COVER REVEAL, CHAPTER & GIVEAWAY - Man of Mystery by Lorelei Moone

Man of Mystery

Lorelei Moone 

Publication Date: July 6, 2016 

Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, BBW

BOOK BLITZ, CHAPTER & GIVEAWAY - Shameless by Gina L. Maxwell

SHAMELESS

Playboys in Love #1

Gina L. Maxwell

Releasing May 30th, 2016

Entangled: Scorched

BOOK BLITZ, CHAPTER, GIVEAWAY - Let Me by Cecy Robson

Let Me

(An O’Brien Family Novel)

Cecy Robson

Publication date: April 19th 2016

Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

BOOK BLITZ, CHAPTER 1 & GIVEAWAY - Chasing Eva by Camellia Hart

Chasing Eva 

(In Light of Shadows #1)

Camellia Hart

Publication date: April 5th 2016

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

BOOK BLITZ, CHAPTER 1 & GIVEAWAY - Call Forth the Waves by L.J. Hatton

Call Forth the Waves

(The Celestine Series #2)

L.J. Hatton

Published by: Skyscape

Publication date: March 22nd 2016

Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult

PURCHASE NOW:

Amazon

Earth, not so very long from now: the silent, inscrutable alien visitors who bathed the planet in transforming rains have moved on, leaving behind a world much changed.

Penn Roma, age sixteen, is blessed—or cursed—with supernatural talents she has always concealed. Her sisters, likewise afflicted, are prisoners of the Commission, the government agency tasked with controlling these strange children. Penn’s determination to save them only gains urgency when she learns of the horrifying plans the twisted Warden Dodge has for the peculiar charges.

But Penn herself must remain hidden, navigating a series of fantastical havens with her embattled allies, similarly enhanced teens also in the Commission’s crosshairs. Worse, her vast, half-understood powers have become unpredictable, failing at critical moments and activating outside of her control.

Can Penn trust a rogue warden, supposedly opposed to Dodge’s schemes, to help free her family…or has the Commission set its most nefarious trap yet?

READ CHAPTER 1

I dreamed I was on The Show’s train. I don’t know if I actually heard a sound while I slept or if it was pure, fearful imagination and regret, but I felt the uneven glide of wheels along the track and heard the steady rhythm of the rail mechanism as it laid new planks down and picked the old ones up. My father, Magnus Roma, had designed our circus’s train so that it could roll anywhere, even through my mind in the middle of the night.

In the dream, I was a ghost haunting a reflection of the life I’d lived for sixteen years. There were no alien jellyfish slowly altering Earth’s children. My sisters were free, rather than captured by the Wardens’ Commission. Jermay was practicing magic tricks with his father, Zavel, who had been returned to life, and Birdie was still walking the high wire with her adoptive family, the Jeseks. The only thing out of place was the fact that Winnie was no longer mute—I was.

I was mute and invisible, and when I tried to warn the people I loved that they needed to run, they couldn’t hear me. I watched, screaming silently, as Wardens Nye and Arcineaux laid waste to them all and left the train a smoking heap of slag. There were no survivors— human, metal, or Klok, who was a little bit of both. He died at my feet, glassy eyes frozen open so that I couldn’t get away from them. It was exactly how I’d watched the mechanical re-creation of my mother fall, but my father had built Klok with my eyes, which made it worse. A piece of me died with him.
The train rose up in a monstrous, deformed amalgam of my father’s other creations: a cluster of horns from our unicorns and Scorpius’s tail whipping over the back of the Constrictus’s snakelike body. It had Bijou’s jeweled dragon wings and Xerxes’ gryphon claws and head. A peculiar spark in its eyes glowed red hot with the fury of Magnus Roma’s ghost. My robotic mother rode on its back, several times larger than she had been in life.

My father had created her to protect me, and now she was trying to kill me.

I ran, and the train pursued over water and air and land. There was no escape, so I did the only thing I could: I turned around, stood my ground, and called destruction down to save myself. I unleashed the full power of the Celestine without restraint, until the train and my mother were battered to dust and stopped trying to come back.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, but the words stuck in my throat, held there by a paste of tears and ash while the remains sifted through my fingers. “I’m sorry!”

I screamed so loud and hard the words could have cut themselves free from my throat, but they never made it to my mouth. My hands began to glow, and I felt the impossible heat of a fire that had never before burned me.

Hotter and brighter. Hotter and brighter, until my skin flaked off in twinkling bits.

I was a star swirling to life in the ruins of a universe beyond my control. Uncontainable energy that had been held in check for too long.
Skin and bone and muscle and tissue were unable to tether the reality of the Celestine awakened.

I became heaven’s fire. And in the final moment of my mortal existence, I screamed again. Unheard again. One last, horrible second of incineration before I woke up, still screaming, but far from silent.

Doors slammed up and down the halls inside the Hollow, the sup- posed haven my father had promised would protect us all, and I knew what came next. The monsters. That’s what I’d called the sounds as a child, before I knew the monsters were me. Bad dreams always caused my abilities—my touch—to flare. Groaning metal and creaking and shrieking from power lines. The chiming of chimes and the straining of gears. Every square inch of the Hollow was rushing to my defense, ripping itself apart to do so. The room’s rug caught fire. Pipes burst from the walls, flooding what had once been my nursery and dousing the flames. Next came a sour wind blowing havoc through the room. I never should have slept there, but I was obsessed with the nursery and everything in it, just for the hope that I could force a real memory of it to surface.

In my old life, when the train wasn’t a nightmare, this was where my father would have appeared in my door. But I’d lost him, too. Now silencing the chaos was up to me. I had to get control over myself before the call I hadn’t intended to send out reached the stars and brought them down, the same way I had called to them the night I was born— when I murdered my twin brother.

I threw my hands over my ears to stop the sounds, but all that did was dredge up walls of rock from under the Hollow’s foundation. They blocked me in on all sides, creating a cell that would isolate me from everyone else.

Alone and in the dark, I was able to get a handle on myself. I couldn’t hear the monsters anymore. I laid my palms flat to the cool slate, inhaled the earthy scent of soil with all its microscopic life, and my panic calmed. It would have been easy to leave the walls up, or even to command them to crush me so I couldn’t be a danger to anyone ever again. The wardens wouldn’t chase my friends without me. But that was the kind of stray thought a half-sleeping mind considers. I’d never really do it; I still had three sisters left to save.

My stone prison began to crack, letting fresh air and light through. Anise. She was terrakinetic, someone who could move earth by will alone, and she had a lot more practice at it than I did. She and my other sisters had been on display as part of our circus, but I’d had to hide myself, claiming the identity of my dead brother. I’d been a hunter wearing the pelt of her kill for a disguise so I could walk among the flock of so-called normal humans undetected.

“Are you coming out, or should I get the bear?” Anise asked through the crack in my defenses.

Each of my sisters had a particular skill for creating creatures from the element they wielded, the same way my father made golems out of metal and gears. Anise’s took the form of a Kodiak bear. Like a grizzly, only bigger and more aggressive.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just give me a minute.” The stone cracked wider—that was a “no.” Not only was Anise in the room, but Jermay was there, looking
worried. His unnaturally blue eyes had dulled with sleep. He bent his pinkie at me, using our secret sign language to ask if I was really all right. I didn’t return the gesture, because he was the one person I refused to lie to. Winnie and Birch peeked in from the doorway, staying close but out of range in case I went off again. It’s always a good idea to stay out of the blast radius when you’re dealing with things that can explode in your face.

“I said I was fine,” I snapped, climbing out of the cell. If Birdie was there, she was hiding, making her the only one with any sense.

Once I’d threaded my arms through the gap, Jermay took my hands and pulled. My sister had made me an exit, but not a wide one. I had to work for it.
“This is not fine.” Anise’s short hair had frizzed into a rat’s nest that stood up around her ears; paired with the tattered shirt she’d been sleep- ing in, she didn’t look very threatening, even if she sounded it.

The room was a wreck of broken furniture and sloshing water. Anise dismantled my hiding spot, bidding the stones return to the ground, but she couldn’t do anything about the rest. Baby clothes that had once sat neatly stacked on shelves were now a muddy mess. The water was quickly soaking a wooden crate of books in the corner so that the pages turned translucent and stuck together. One book floated past, with a yellow duckling peeking out from the warped body of a brown dog.

“I’ll fix it,” I told her.

“Fixing things isn’t enough. You’ve got to stop breaking them in the first place. You’re getting stronger, Chey-chey. You’ve got to get control of yourself.”

This was humiliating. She was scolding me like a child, and the others were all watching.

“What if Jermay had been in here with you?”

Ever since our escape from Warden Nye and his Center in the sky, sleeping had been a problem. We all had our nightmares and our shared fear that the dream would overtake reality to prove we were all still prisoners. At some point in the night, there was an inevitable migration. I’d wake up to find Jermay had snuck in and was now sleeping beside me, or I’d wake up alone and creep down the hall to the room that was his. Winnie and Birch did the same thing, and on the occasions that we passed each other in the halls, no one said anything. No one looked anyone else in the eye. Our fears came with an unacknowledged shame, especially on the night everyone but Klok had ended up on the floor of Anise’s room, just close enough to touch so no one could get lost.

“What if Birdie had curled up to sleep in your chair instead of mine tonight?” Anise asked. “You could have hurt her, or worse!”

Didn’t she understand? It wasn’t me—it was the Hollow. Every inch was a reminder of why our house had never been my home. There wasn’t a single room I could use as a refuge from the guilt I carried for what I’d cost her and everyone else. She’d tried to convince me that my brother’s death wasn’t my fault, but that had been a fleeting comfort. I knew the truth. I’d lived it for sixteen years, and now it was choking the life out of me in retribution.

Absolute truth was so terrifying an idea that I still hadn’t found the nerve to access the memory chip my father left me for my birthday. I knew it had to be important, but I wasn’t ready for my world to twist again. I kept the chip with me always, tucked into a pants pocket when I was awake or a shirt pocket when I slept, but I absolutely could not open it. I hadn’t even told anyone else it existed for fear that whatever secrets it held would be worse than those shared by the walls around me.

“I have to get out of here,” I said. It felt like an admission of weakness, me begging for my big sister to protect me from the unseen things that gathered in the dark to scare me. “How long until Klok has the golems ready to go?”

My father’s metal son was the only one with enough foresight to leave me alone. He’d been in Magnus’s basement workshop for days, putting the final touches on repairs to Xerxes and Bijou so we could use them as transportation to reach whatever secret place Winnie knew. Not safe, she said, but free of the Commission, and that was free enough to let me breathe. Klok had been working nonstop, but I still wished he was faster. I had been ready to leave the day we arrived.

“Any time now,” Anise said. She seemed to notice the edge in her own voice, because she softened it to ask: “Honestly this time—are you okay?”

“Am I ever?”

The rocks were gone and the fire doused, but we were still ankle- deep in rising water. I placed my left hand against an exposed pipe and held the right out toward my floor. The leak stopped and reversed, flowing back into the pipe with everything that had drenched my room.

Once the rug was dry, I covered the break in the pipe with my palm and willed the metal to melt into a new seam.

“See?” I said to Anise. “It’s under control.”

“For now.” She scowled at me. “I’m making breakfast, if you want any. Do not leave this house.” Then she let me be. Winnie and Birch left my door, so only Jermay and I remained. I could almost hear Birdie’s ghostly steps running away unseen.

Or it could have been my mind playing another trick on me.

“So what was it this time?” Jermay asked me. “The Center falling out of the sky? Accidentally summoning an army of Medusae golems that dragged you into space?”

Nightmares were so common that we knew each other’s by name.

I shook my head and said, “The train,” so quietly I almost didn’t hear it myself.

“Mine was a man-eating clock tracking me through a poisonous jungle.” He grinned, so I couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not. One of his more frustrating traits.

“I left her,” I said. “Who?” “Iva. She was shot, and she died, and all I did was step over her body and save myself.” “You mean the robot?” “Don’t say it like that. You wouldn’t talk about Klok like that.” “Klok’s different,” Jermay said. “Why?” “He just is.” Jermay gave me the lopsided grin that used to be my greatest weakness, but he was trying old tricks on a new girl. I wasn’t that Penn any- more, and I wasn’t really Penelope, either. I was something new, hard and sharp because my edges hadn’t worn down yet. No matter what I said or did, I cut him.

“You didn’t know her,” I told him bluntly.

I wondered if I could have saved her. I had rewired Warden Nye’s mechanical hands without a manual or tools, using a few stern words and stubborn looks. That had been years’ worth of damage. Maybe even decades. Iva’s wound was fresh. Her systems were mostly intact. Surely I could have routed the rest around the burnouts. I could have done something—anything. But I left her there, and I didn’t think about try- ing to fix her until we were out of reach.

I forgot her, and now I knew what it was like to watch my mother die.

“Iva fulfilled her purpose,” Jermay said. “She helped save us. If it’s possible for a machine to feel satisfaction, then she died happy.”

“But she still died.” I started picking up the mess, one infant-sized toy at a time. Jermay sat down on the end of the bed I’d begged Klok to move in here for me. He surveyed the room.

“What d’ya say I snap my fingers and clean this place up my way?” His way meaning magic. Illusion. Deception. I’d blink my eyes, and he’d have everything hidden in the closet and under the bed before I opened them again. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.” I needed to ground myself in reality. Using my hands felt normal, and I’d nearly forgotten what that word meant. Sleight of hand wouldn’t help me remember.

“I’m sorry I can’t make it better,” he said. “So am I.” He flinched as if I meant that I blamed him for not being able to fix things, but I was only returning his apology. I was sorry, too. I wanted to make things better for him, but didn’t know how.

We were both orphans, most likely. I couldn’t say for certain that my father was dead, but he wasn’t there, and every new day withered my hope of finding him a little more. And yet, I still had that scrap of hope—Jermay didn’t. His father’s grave was right outside the door to the Hollow, and he was the one trying to make me feel better, when I should have been showing him the same compassion.

What was wrong with me?

“Anise is right. You are getting stronger,” he said when I sat down beside him on the bed.

“Not strong enough, and I can’t stay cooped up like this. I need air.”

The Show’s train had never stayed in one place longer than a week; we were always on the go. What I hadn’t realized was that we couldn’t afford to stop. The only time I’d ever been still longer than that was inside the Center. It took me a while to figure out the timeline, but between fleeing with Jermay and the others, being unconscious after we lost the train, and the days I spent imprisoned with Birch in the clouds, I lost six weeks. It felt like six lifetimes—one each for me, my sisters, and my missing father. Being inside the Hollow felt like six times more than that. There weren’t even any windows.

“I need to see the sky,” I said.

Something else Anise should have understood. She’d been weakened by having her access to the ground cut off inside the Center. I needed to see the sun and moon and stars, not have them reduced to the tingling agony of a ghost limb I could feel but not see or touch.

Time had lost all meaning in the Hollow. We slept because we were always exhausted and unable to relax enough to rest. No one knew if it was day or night outside. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there.

“You can’t go out,” Jermay told me. “Anise said—” “I don’t care!” A small tremor shook the room. “Sorry,” I said. “But that’s going to keep happening unless I get out of here.” “They’re looking for you.” “Nye was looking for me. The rest of them are licking their wounds.

We’re under a tree. What are the chances that someone from the Commission will wander through these woods at the exact moment I step outside?”

“About the same chance as you being possible,” Jermay said, more serious. “If you have a flare out in the open, someone could see it.”

“Fine—compromise. I won’t go out, but I’m opening the door before I suffocate. If I don’t, I’m liable to literally blow the roof off of this place, and that would be a lot easier to see from a distance than one girl in a random stretch of trees.”

“I don’t know, Penn . . .” “I’m going.” I was already getting up to leave. An alarm sounded. My room was suddenly awash in lights and noise. “Wha—” Jermay started to ask, but I shrugged. Unless Anise had wired me with motion sensors in my sleep, the alert had nothing to do with us.

We hurried into the hall. Anise ran past us toward the main room and the entrance we’d used to access the Hollow when we first arrived.

“Did either of you touch the outer door?” she asked. “Why?” “Did you touch the door?” she shouted. I’d never seen Anise lose her temper or composure. She was the one who kept the rest of us grounded. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. “We didn’t touch anything,” Jermay said as Birch and Winnie joined us from the back. Klok stomped up the stairs from my father’s workroom. The trapdoor slammed open against the hall rug. “Check the sensors,” Anise ordered him. “Code Blackout. Turn everything off in case they’re skimming for energy signatures.” With entire cities going dark at night out of fear that the Medusae or another otherworldly race might see us, the Commission had devel- oped ways to scan for illegal tech in areas where it was forbidden. All of my father’s work was cutting edge, specifically because it was made for the Commission to buy freedom for our family. Their equipment could pick it up, easy.

Klok nodded and disappeared back into the floor. Two seconds later, the room dimmed to a candlelit glow.

“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” “The alert on the outer door. Someone’s coming in.” I reached for Jermay’s arm at the same time he reached for mine.

We twined them together with our pinkies interlocked for luck. Maybe some of the old Penn was still in there, after all.

A tiny invisible mass latched onto my other side so hard that I almost toppled over.

“Birdie!” Anise shouted. “I need to see you, baby.” “I think I’ve got her,” I said. Birdie slipped her hand into mine, slowly bleeding into view without a sound. Her eyes were wide and staring, her whole body shaking. She was barefoot and in a pair of red-checkered pajamas she’d rummaged from one of my sisters’ closets.

“Into the basement with Klok,” Anise ordered her. Birdie sprinted for the trapdoor, disappearing again as she went. Someone pounded on the outer door. The tunnel lights went out completely, robbing us of our view, and I backed up with Jermay, farther into the main room. There was only the one exit. We ran into Winnie and Birch so that the four of us formed a line. Standing together had given us an advantage before. Hopefully, there was still safety in numbers.

“What if it’s someone from The Show?” Jermay asked. “It could be . . . couldn’t it?”

The look Anise gave him over her shoulder wasn’t promising.

“Whoever it is, I’ll tell them to leave and forget how they got here,” Winnie offered. She was The Show’s siren in more than appearance, and if she told someone to do something, they did it.

“I doubt they’re alone,” Anise said. “They’re not going to give you the chance to speak to each one of them. All of you get into the workroom.”

“But—” She wouldn’t let me argue. “Do it, Penn!” she commanded. “If I don’t know the person on the other side of that door, I’m collapsing the tunnel, and then I’m bringing the rest of this place down behind me. You’ll have to make them a new way out.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

That was how I lost my sisters the first time. They guarded our escape from the train, and in return, they were taken by the Commission.

Anise growled, but she didn’t waste time arguing with me.

“Winnie, Birch, grab whatever’s worth taking downstairs and tell Klok to be ready to run. We can’t wait for perfection anymore.”

“Got it,” Winnie said.

She and Birch descended the workroom stairs as the seal on the main door broke with a creak. A new light appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. Something moving. As it came closer, it behaved strangely like a living thing, but it was definitely on fire. It ran the last several yards on padded feet.

“Samson!” I cried, relieved. There was no mistaking my sister Evie’s flame-dog once he was close enough to have a shape. I’d seen her summon him nightly for The Show for as long as I could remember. “Evie’s made it! She escaped!”

“Penn, wait!” Jermay pulled on my arm, though I could see Evie in the tunnel now. “Look at him.”

I turned my attention back to Samson. The usually playful pup stood with his legs braced, twisting his neck against an unseen leash, being forced to go where he didn’t want to be led.

“Evie?” Anise called. She kept her hands down, but I could feel her power rooting itself into the ground beneath our feet. She was preparing for an attack. Provoked, she could have a rampaging Kodiak between us and the door in a heartbeat. “If that’s you, say something.”

“This is wrong,” Jermay said, shaking his head. “We should—”

He lost his voice as Evie stepped into the main room with a hound’s collar around her throat and manacles on her wrists and ankles. She’d lost the glow that had always made her seem to shine.

“Run!” she said. Then the ball of flame in her hand leapt from her fingers.

L.J. Hatton is a Texan, born and raised. She sometimes refers to the towns she’s lived in by the movies filmed in them, and if she wasn’t working as a professional pretender, she’d likely be holed up in a lab somewhere doing genetics research. She is also the author of Sing Down the Stars, the first volume in her Celestine series.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter

Skyscape is giving away 3 eBook copies of Sing Down the Stars – Book 1 in the Celestine series!
ENTER HERE for your chance to win!

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EXCERPT REVEAL - Mister Org@sm & SECRET COVER REVEAL - Well Hung by Lauren Blakely

We are absolutely thrilled to bring you the Excerpt Reveal for Lauren Blakely’s MISTER ORG@SM! A standalone sexy romantic comedy, MISTER ORG@SM takes everything you love about a Lauren Blakely novel –witty dialogue, smoking hot sex scenes, and heartfelt moments –and kicks it into overdrive! MISTER ORG@SM is set to release Wednesday, May 4th! MISTER ORG@SM is a standalone, sexy romantic comedy, including a forbidden romance, told from the male POV. You met Nick in Lauren’s BIG ROCK, and he’ll keep you up long into the night as you turn the pages of MISTER ORG@SM.

     

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ABOUT MISTER ORG@SM:

Just call me Mister Orgasm. No, really, I insist. Orgasms are my specialty. Delivering them, administering them, giving them in multiples. Then doing it again for an encore. I'm like the superhero of pleasure, and my mission is to dole out countless toe-curling, mind-blowing climaxes.

But, hey, I'm not just a man with only one superpower. Step right up, and you'll also find a hot exterior, a razor-sharp wit, and a heart of gold. And I don't take a damn thing for granted. Back in the day, I was the quiet guy bent over his notebook drawing cartoons. Now I'm creator of the hottest animated TV show in the world --The Adventures of Mister Orgasm -- and I'm living the good life as the once-upon-a-time-geek-turned-stud. That means I always put the lady first, and her satisfaction is guaranteed.

Then I'm thrown for a loop when a certain woman asks me to teach her everything about how to win a man. Sounds like my kind of mission. The only problem? She's my best friend's sister, but she's far too tempting to resist--especially when I learn that sweet, sexy, witty Harper has a dirty mind too. What could possibly go wrong as I give her some no-strings-attached lessons in seduction?

No one will know, even if we send a few dirty sexts. Okay, a few hundred. Or if the zipper on her dress gets stuck. Not on that! Or if she gives me those sex eyes on the train in front of her whole family.

The trouble is the more nights I spend with her in bed, the more days I want to spend with her out of bed. And for the first time ever, I'm not only thinking about how to make a woman cry out in pleasure --I'm thinking about how to keep her in my arms for a long time to come.

Looks like the real Adventures of Mister Orgasm have only just begun....

**MISTER ORG@SM is a standalone romantic comedy and it follows supporting characters first introduced in BIG ROCK**

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Ask me my three favorite things and the answers are so easy they roll off my tongue. Hitting a homerun for my softball league, drawing a killer cartoon panel, and, oh yeah, making a woman come so hard she sees stars.

Not gonna lie. That last one is my favorite, by about a mile. Giving a woman a sheet-grabbing, toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasm is pretty much the Best Thing Ever.

A woman’s climax is like summer break, Christmas morning, and a vacation in Fiji all rolled together in one fantastic package of window-shattering bliss.

Hell, if we could harness the beauty and energy from women coming, we could probably power cities, solve global warming, fix every problem known to man. The female orgasm is basically the manifestation of everything good in the world.

Especially when I deliver them, and I’ve given thousands upon thousands. I’m like a superhero of pleasure, a good-deed doer, the once-upon-a-geek-now-a-stud, and my mission is to dispense as many climaxes to my lovers as possible.

How have I managed to achieve this amazing feat? Simple. I’m both a student and a master of the art of giving Os. I consider myself an expert because — in the interest of full disclosure here — I’m completely, 100% obsessed with a woman’s enjoyment between the sheets. Getting her off is the name of the game, and if you can’t get that job done, you should get the hell out of the bedroom.

But, hey, I’m also humble enough to admit I’m still a learner.

Since there is always something new to discover with a woman.

Does she want it soft, hard, fast, light, rough? Does she like it with teeth, toys, my cock, my tongue, my fingers? Would she want a little something extra, like a feather, a vibrator, or some sort of fantastic combination of all of the above? Every woman is different and every path to her pleasure is its own erotic journey with so many fantastic stops to make along the way.

I take mental notes, study her cues, and always get out and do the field work.

I suppose that makes me the Magellan of the female orgasm. A true explorer, venturing forth, fearless and ready at any moment, to map the terrain of her pleasure until she cries out in rapture.

Fine, some might say I have an addiction.

But really, is it a bad thing that I love to make the woman I’m with feel good? If that makes me a guy with a one-track mind, then I’m guilty as fucking charged. I’ll freely admit that when I meet a woman I’m into, I’m picturing in seconds what she looks like coming, how she sounds, how I want to send her soaring.

The trouble is, there’s one woman I just can’t go there with, even though lately my brain desperately wants to figure out how to drive her wild. It’s been an epic battle, and I’ve had to keep her in a special drawer, locked, sealed and key thrown away because she is the definition of hands off.

Which sucks royally because she’s about to make things even harder with the words that come out of her mouth.

SIGN UP FOR NEWSLETTER TO RECEIVE AN EMAIL WHEN MISTER ORG@SM IS LIVE ON AMAZON

   

And that’s not all! Lauren Blakely has a surprise for you!

✮✮✮WELL HUNG is coming soon! ✮✮✮

That’s right! Lauren has a third standalone romantic comedy headed your way in Late Summer 2016!Check out the fantastic cover for WELL HUNG designed by Helen Williams!

    

Pre-Order today: iBooks exclusive preorder

 About WELL HUNG:

Here’s what you need to know about me — I’m well-off, well-hung and quick with a joke. Yup. Women like a guy who makes them laugh—and I don’t mean at the size of his d*ck. No, they want their funny with a side of huge… not to mention loyal. I’m the complete package—and I do mean package. I’ve got all that plus a big bank account, thanks to my booming construction business.

Enter Natalie. Hot, sexy, smart, and my new assistant. Which makes her totally off limits...

Hey, I’m a good guy. Really. I do my best to stay far away from the kind of temptation she brings to work. Until one night in Vegas…

Yeah, you’ve heard this one before. Bad news on the business front, drowning our sorrows in a few too many Harvey Wallbangers, and then I’m banging her. In my hotel room. In her hotel room. Behind the Titanic slot machine at the Flamingo (don’t ask). And before I can make her say “Oh God right there YES!” one more time, we’re both saying yes—the big yes—at a roadside chapel in front of a guy in press-on sideburns and a shiny gold leisure suit.

The annulment was supposed to be a piece of cake. But it turns out what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas. And now, my dick doesn’t stay in my pants when she’s around. Why would it? Natalie’s hot, witty, and horny as hell—especially when we fight. And thanks to a snag with the annulment, she’s still my wife. Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt Hammer and Natalie Rhodes.

I try to resist. Honest. But the more we try to keep our hands to ourselves, the more we end up naked again -- on the desk in my office, in the cab of my truck, on the ladder -- and the more time I want to spend with her fully clothed, too.

Sure, we both know a legit divorce is for the best, but my dick is the most loyal prick I know. Especially now that my heart is in the game too. The question now is…do I take this woman to be my ex-wife?

       

  About Lauren Blakely: Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that’s full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With nine New York Times bestsellers,her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller List more than three dozen times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love and Fighting Fire. She recently released BIG ROCK, a sexy standalone romantic comedy that became an instant New York Times Bestseller. In the late spring, she’ll release MISTER ORG@SM, another standalone romantic comedy.  

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CHAPTER REVEAL - Bennett by Brenda Rothert

Today we are sharing chapter one from BENNETT (On the Line, #2) by Brenda Rothert. This book is currently up for pre-order and will be released on March 15th! KILLIAN, the first book in the On the Line series, is on sale now!

 

Bennett (On the Line, #2)

Releasing: March 15

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Bennett Morse devotes his time to chasing two things: an NHL career and women. He’s the easygoing member of his three-man line on the Fenway Flyers, content to play the game he loves and soak up the female attention it brings – as long as it’s from a different woman each time. He learned the hard way that choosing only one leads to heartache.

Newly single attorney Charlotte Holloway finds just what she needs in Bennett – a sweet, sexy man to ease the burn of her recent breakup. One night is all she wants from the left winger who seems to have all the right moves. Soon circumstance draws her back to Bennett, and the sparks between them become a fiery blaze. But with the stakes high, will they risk it all and put their hearts on the line?

Chapter One

Charlotte 

It was raining. Not that my closet of an office had any windows through which I could see that. No, the drip-drip-drip of raindrops falling from the ceiling into the bucket I kept on my desk for days like this was all the indication I needed.

I pressed a button on my phone to ask Sara, the secretary in the state’s attorney’s office where I worked, to page Maintenance and put in my monthly request to get the leak fixed. I’d been asking every month for the thirteen months I’d worked here. So far the only response I’d gotten was the bucket.

I got her voicemail and glanced at the clock. 6:45? She had left for the day.

Where had the afternoon gone? I’d been holed up doing research for a case and hadn’t even realized how late it was.

Just another reason I was looking forward to getting a new office—a window. A window and no bucket on my desk would make me feel like I’d arrived.

The work of an assistant state’s attorney wasn’t glamorous by any means. But I was happy here and grateful to have landed the job fresh out of law school. And once I got promoted to the vacant first assistant position, I’d be doing the work I’d always dreamed of.

Prosecuting crimes against children was why I’d gone to law school. When the former juvenile prosecutor had left for another job, I’d put in for her spot immediately. My boss Wren had told me it had to be left open for two weeks so internal applications could be accepted, but that my chances were very good.

My chances were great. The only other assistant state’s attorneys were Carlton, who would be retiring soon, and Riley, who was my boyfriend. He had no interest in the job, so it was mine for the taking.

Two weeks had passed since the job opened up, and I was planning to stay late tonight in hopes that Wren would come give me the good news. She worked late every night.

A light knock sounded at my door, and my heart thudded with hopeful anticipation.

“Charlotte?” It was Riley, his wavy, beach-blond hair falling over his forehead. He brushed it back and grinned at me.

“Hi.” I smiled back. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Yeah, the traffic docket was a bitch this afternoon. You feel like getting some dinner?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I need to get this research done for a case tomorrow. Rain check?”

“Sure. Or…I could work some more and wait? I was kind of hoping to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up? We can talk now.”

Riley drew his brows together, looking serious.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, my concern mounting.

“Not…wrong, per se.” He took a step inside and closed the door behind him. “I just wanted to talk to you outside of the office.”

“Well, now I’m worried. Sit down and spill your guts.”

I pushed the bowl of peanut M&M’s I kept on my desk over his way as he sat down in the chair on the other side of my desk. The chair groaned despite Riley’s lean frame. I’d had two chairs in front of the desk before, but one had broken while a sheriff’s deputy was sitting on it last month. He’d asked me if a splinter in the ass was enough to get him out of testifying in traffic court that day and I’d told him no way.

Riley and I had spent many late evenings in this office, eating M&M’s and discussing cases. We didn’t necessarily have a passionate love affair, but something based on friendship and mutual respect. And the sex wasn’t bad, either.

“You know I love you, Charlotte,” he said.

“And I love you. So what’s up?”

He sighed and looked down, his elbows resting on his knees. “I wanted to be the one to tell you that…uh, Wren offered me the first assistant job and I accepted.”

The drip-drip-drip of rain into the bucket was the only sound in the room for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, what?” I finally said. “How is that even possible? You didn’t apply.”

“I actually did. A couple days ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

He grimaced and met my eyes across my desk. “I knew you’d be upset.”

My cheeks warmed and my heart thundered in my chest. “You think that’s a good enough reason to hide it from me?”

“Keep it down, Charlotte.”

I stood up, my palms on my desk. “I will not keep it down! How could you do this to me? After all those times you told me I was meant for that job and I’d be amazing at it?”

“You would have been.” He looked down again. “But, Charlotte, I have aspirations, you know? If Wren doesn’t run for state’s attorney next time around, I might. And I need this experience.”

I pulled the bowl of M&M’s back over to my side of the desk. He didn’t deserve them anymore.

“You went behind my back and applied for the job you knew I wanted.” I gave him an icy glare.

He gave a half shrug. “Look, Wren chose the best candidate, and it was me. If I run for her job and win, you know I’ll give you the juvenile spot then. If you play your cards right.”

I possessed a bad temper at times, and it took over as Riley gave me a smug half smile.

“You asshole. We are done.”

I grabbed the rim of the half-full rain bucket, hauled it off the desk, and threw the collected water at him. Then I put it back in place, because I didn’t want a wet desk in the morning.

Wet ex-boyfriend? Hell yes. And he was dripping, his mouth open in shock, when I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.

“Charlotte,” he said, standing up. “I can’t believe you—”

I cut him off. “Yeah, well, I can’t believe you, either. Get out, Riley.”

“You’re crazy,” he muttered as he left my office.

I got out of there as fast I could because I was in no state to run into my boss right now. Beneath my shock was deep disappointment. Over Riley and over the job.

When I reached my car and started it, I headed for the place I always went when I was too angry to even think. The shooting range. And there was no doubt who I’d be picturing when I aimed at the faceless target tonight.

Killian, the first book in the On the Line series, is on sale now for just .99¢!

Killian (On the Line, #1)

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Brenda Rothert is an Illinois native who was a print journalist for nine years. She made the jump from fact to fiction in 2013 and never looked back. From new adult to steamy contemporary romance, Brenda creates fresh characters in every story she tells. She’s a lover of Diet Coke, chocolate, lazy weekends and happily ever afters.

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