A.K.A. by TL Alexander

Title: A.K.A
Author: TL Alexander
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: July 31, 2017
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

Vote Today!

A.K.A a romantic suspense from the author of the smexy Layers Series, TL Alexander.

A.K.A. has been chosen by Kindle Scout. Yahoo!

What is Kindle Scout? It’s a place where readers help decide if a book gets published. Selected books will be published by Kindle Press and receive a 5-year contract.

So dear readers, I’m asking for your help. Go to https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/1KRK9HLHAD43Q.

Read the book introduction and the excerpt. If you like what you see, please nominate A.K.A.

After you nominate, don’t forget to add your name to my newsletter http://www.tlalexanderauthor.com/newsletter for a chance at winning a signed copy of A.K.A. and a $25 Amazon gift card.

Hurry campaign ends July 10 2017.

Thanks for your support! TL Alexander

VOTE FOR A.K.A. TODAY!

 

A false reality of murder and love.

Morgan Steel is a rising-star ADA from LA. When her half sister is brutally murdered her world spins off course, tilts off its axis. Seeking justice, she commits the unthinkable and finds herself no longer living in a world of right or wrong, black or white. She finds herself living in a reality within a false reality of love, lust, betrayal and murder.

 

 

 

Hey, girlfriends and guyfriends…

So…what about me? Well…I live in the good old USA, the Pacific Northwest, to be more specific. Everything here is green and soggy, but it’s grown on me like…moss and slugs.

I love to read and write. I read mostly romance, but I love a good mystery or biography. I love to laugh myself to pee-my-pants, and do so whenever possible ( own lots of undies). I possess a very imaginative way with words (potty-mouth), and I can’t get enough of DIY words…linguistatard, gaywadest…the list is never ending.

When not writing or reading, I’m driving my family friggin’ ass-crazy. And when not doing that…I garden, do projects (got to have a project) and travel—whenever possible (never enough).

Layers, is my first self-published romance series—but far from my last. I’ve got lots more to write about when Alexia, Jaxson, Jules and the gaywads, are written off into the sunset. I’m excited about my next series—Girlfriends Goddesses and Barflies—it’s going to be fun!

A special shout-out to my fans…I love you! I love your—“you go girlfriends,” your DIY words, and your potty mouths. Potty mouths unite! Potty-mouths rule! Potty-mouths take over the world! Damn fucking straight! Thank you for taking a chance on a new author and for all your wonderful (colorful) words of encouragement and wisdom.

Make sure to check out my site often for updates and other fun stuff. Leave me a hey you, or even a review…what the hell! I’d love to hear from you. ( that friggin’ rhymes) Contact me on my contact page tlalexanderauthor.com
Potty-mouths…rule the universe—and beyond!!

Vote Today!!

Heart of Knives by L.V. Lewis

 
Title: Heart of Knives
Author: L.V. Lewis 
Genre: ScFi/ Fantasy Romance
Release Date: June 27, 2017
 
 
The Complex Book Series.
A Lone Planet. One Complex.
Unlimited Chaos.
When an elf princess is threatened for her activism, who will come to her rescue—her fairy prince fiance’ or the handsome human bodyguard she adores?
Princess Amarie Vanyarin has a reputation for doing what’s right, no matter the cost. When she volunteers to act as Elf ambassador at the Complex—a domed community of Humans and Metas on the planet Lorn—a faceless assassin threatens her life. Soon, the civil rights activist is torn between thwarting another war and concentrating on her betrothal to Fairy Prince Erihstall Habbernock. Their plan to strengthen their mystical bond with a love spell goes awry when the magic inadvertently enchants the wrong person.
Or does it?
Amarie soon discovers that her fiancé and Gary Locke, the human bodyguard who’s captured her heart, both have ulterior motives—neither of which bodes well for her.
With the future ahead uncertain, will the headstrong princess continue to fight for Human-Meta peace, or will she choose to confront the emerging threat targeting the men she loves?
 
 
The blinders are already beginning their slow descent when Gary reaches Princess Amarie’s apartment. The moving shadows make him nervous and more alert. His boss’ voice slices through the paranoia already building up inside his mind. She’s going to need you, Sergeant. Right. I’ve got a job to do. Time to get to work.
Until a kit shows up, the only weapons Gary has are the Ama Seldova-issued segif on his gun belt and a pocket knife. The gun only temporarily knocks out an individual, and the knife won’t be useful against most Nighters. Against a single opponent, this won’t prove to be an issue. Two attackers, and Gary will have to take some chances. More than that, and the only real option for guaranteed survival is running. Hoping the attack doesn’t come tonight, or has happened already, Gary runs for the elevators leading to the top floor.
During the day, the Complex is filled with Humans and Metas moving about, each doing their job or living as best they can in what amounts to a giant tube. The same is true at night. The Human population gives way to Nighters, who are inherently quiet, which makes the atmosphere far more stifling to Gary as he passes them in the apartment’s lobby. The stares are worse. In Gary’s mind, each one of them looks hungry and thinks he is a stupid, easy meal.
Safely upon reaching the elevator, Gary smacks the ‘Up’ button hard enough to echo back towards the awakened civilians. Snickers echo around him as he turns with a silly look on his face. Hey fella, we’re all here to be peaceful. Chill out. Those words are etched on every face that turned at the sound. Fuck, Gary thinks. Why do I have to be so damned human?
An eternity of stares and seconds later, the elevator doors open. Gary forces himself to step inside with some semblance of dignity. Not too fast, not so slow as to be cartoonish. Now alone, he heaves a sigh. The doors begin to close, and he thinks, Okay, get your bearings back. Relax. You’re a goddamn soldier. Act like one.  Before the doors can fuse shut, pale blue fingers slip between them, automatically reversing open. A tall, lean man with the pallor of undeath smiles at him.
“I assume you’re going up,” the man asks.
“Yep. Straight to the top,” Gary replies.
“Perfect.”
The man pushes the button for the floor below Princess Amarie’s, then steps back and to the side so he’s flush with Gary. Side by side for the full ride, neither looks at the other. Gary decided early on this was the most uncomfortable elevator ride in man’s history that didn’t lead to someone’s death or dismemberment. So far. They reach the man’s (vampire, Gary) floor and the doors slide open. Before exiting, he looks Gary straight in the eye.
“Come and see me sometime, when being a monster hunter isn’t such a new smell on you. We’ll have more fun then,” the man says.
“Don’t do anything I need to come and see you for. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen,” Gary replies, meaning every word.
“Everybody knows that is not how this experiment will go down, Locke. You don’t have enough to lose yet, so it’s no fun to play with you. And please, feel free to visit me any time.”
The man vanishes into shadow as the doors close. Gary stares at the ceiling of the elevator, wondering why vampires were gifted with mind-reading. Willing the car to move up faster than programmed, he thinks, Just one more floor, dude, and we’ve finished the hard part.
The elevator doors open, and immediately Gary knows he’d been wrong. The hard part wasn’t over at all. A piercing scream is sounding through the thick walls of the princess’ suite on his left. What the fuck is happening to her? No time, gotta move. Gary pulls his segif from its holster and finds the nearest door leading left.
With one swift kick, he splinters the solid oak door. With a second kick, he smashes enough to duck in without his vision being impaired. From the corners of his eyes, he sees a flashing light but has no idea what it might be. To his right, however, is the princess. Naked. Her dark olive skin on display. Her arms and face are tilted up and what looks like purple smoke is weaving its way into her nostrils. Another scream escapes her mouth. Bolting from his crouched position, Gary harpoons himself into the princess in a desperate plea to stop this attempted possession.
With a heaving gasp, she falls underneath him, and the smell of her sweet perspiration invades his nostrils, saturating every pore of his being. Gary barely has time to realize he recognizes this scent before he loses all awareness in the emerald green mirrors of the princess’ eyes.
The vision before him is perfection personified. Her skin is so soft to the touch he could caress it forever. The vulnerability in her eyes slays him, and he feels himself reacting to her in a way that is not very professional, but he can’t help himself.
Perhaps it’s the fact that he hasn’t been with a woman in a while. His job keeps him busy, and fuck paying for sex. He’s old school and would rather hook up the old fashioned way. Princess Vanyarin certainly is his type—exotic brunette. Maybe it’s her Meta powers that’s got him under her spell, but it can’t be that. The device he’s wearing should protect him from that.
The fruity-looking fairy boy says something in a language Gary doesn’t understand, and his body’s reaction to the Princess goes into overdrive.
“What in the absolute fuck!”
Gary tries to turn away from the sleek, lithe body beneath him, away from the enchanting eyes, but he can’t. Within seconds, blackness covers him, the world goes cold, then nothing.

 

 

Growing up, L.V. Lewis wanted to be an internationally known rock star, but unfortunately, lived in the wrong part of the country to pursue that career (and neither American Idol nor The Voice were available then). An early love for the written word gave her the plan B she sought. Now she pens romance novels that let her live vicariously through rock stars and other fascinating archetypes.
 
 

Book Tour: Wolf by Crimson Syn

Scarlett Chase is every man’s wet dream.

As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew she’d be mine.

That is, until I found out she was untouchable.

One kiss, one forbidden touch, will have me out on the streets and stripped of who I am.

Yet I want her. I need her. And I’m done following all these damn rules.

Wolf Stone is my obsession.

Ever since he pulled over on that empty road, I’ve been tormented by the man.

His possessive words and heated looks have me tightly wound.

One touch, and he lights me on fire.

But I want more.

I not only want him in my bed, I want to keep him for myself.

But he won’t budge, and now it’s up to me to entice his sleeping wolf.

BUY LINKS

Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XKJV5PM

B&N Link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wolf-crimson-syn/1126041880

Itunes Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/711822

KOBO link: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wolf-a-hell-s-lovers-mc-romance

TEASER

“Wolf.” I breathed, dragging my hands along his tussled hair.

I felt the hot slickness of his tongue lick me from the base of my shoulder up along the curve of my neck. He stopped briefly before nipping my earlobe and I nearly came, right then and there.

“You taste so goddamn good.” He whispered.

I gripped his hair and whimpered. “Don’t stop, Wolf. Please, don’t stop.”

My words seemed to snap him out of his trance and he stepped away from me. I glided down the wall and a feeling of emptiness surrounded me as he moved away.

My hands reached for him, but he turned away. I could tell his breathing was labored, and he was just as, or even more affected by this, than I was. I reached out and touched his back and I suddenly found myself pressed once more against the wall. My body arched like a cat in heat, trying to bring every inch of him against me. The movement was futile as he gripped me by the shoulders and half shook me awake from my lust filled moment.

“Stop it. Stop, Scarlett. I won’t be able to do this if you don’t stop.” He pressed his forehead against mine and ran his hands down my arms, gripping my hips. His mouth said one thing, but his hands wouldn’t stop touching me. “Stop. Please.”

My body stilled at his request, but it remained thrumming alongside his.

“Don’t stop, Wolf. Please. Please, don’t do this.”

He dragged his rough jaw against my cheek and breathed in. “I can’t. I just can’t.” He squeezed his eyes shut, almost as if it hurt. He waited a few minutes, his body vibrated against mine, and his hands continued to hold me. “I won’t have you wandering down here. You need to leave.”

“What?” I whispered.

He gripped my waist tightly. “I want you to leave, Scarlett. You don’t belong here!”

I rubbed my hands across the muscles of his chest and his breath hitched. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. With you.”

He growled and leaned his body into mine. “Me too, gorgeous. Oh God, me too.”

He practically pried himself away from me and met my eyes. “But I can’t. I can’t do this to you. I’m not worth it, Scarlett. None of this is.”

“You can’t do what?” I shook my head as he stepped away, but this time I stayed with him, gripping onto his jacket. “Don’t! Don’t pull away. I want this. I want you.”

He looked down at me and smiled sadly. “I want you too.”

He didn’t elaborate on it, he just grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. He waited until I grabbed my purse and then he led me out to my car.

Closing the door, he leaned in. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

His question sounded more like a plea and my heart softened even more for this man.

“Yes.” I whispered, and leaned over pressing my lips to his cheek. I watched as he closed his eyes and then stepped away.

“Go.”

AUTHOR BIO

Crimson Syn is a new erotica author. She delves into those hot and heavy stories where her characters are pushed to their sexual limits. Her wicked pen dips into every little niche, even if it’s wrong and kinky. Vanilla, BDSM, BBW and that twisted taboo is what she wants to make you crave.

Her Hell’s Lovers MC series is her first attempt at a bad boy biker series. If you’re looking for sweet and innocent, you’ll find it, but not in that wholesome way you’re used to. No. Miss Syn delivers sex at its dirtiest, and the more innocent you are, the more her alpha males will attempt to defile you.

Miss Syn is passionate about her family, her friends and her writing. She cherishes her moments where she gets to travel, and her inspiration comes from all those wicked fantasies many of you ladies love to daydream about. She writes her alpha males tough, rough, and exciting, and she expects for her female leads to be independent, bright women with lots of sexy curves that can handle anything that gets thrown at them.

Author Web & Social Media links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CrimsonSyn82

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/crimson.crimson.7982

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/crimsonsyn82/?hl=en

tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorcr

Synful Newsletter : eepurl.com/cFxRu9

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Book Blitz: Wicked Revenge by Zoey Derrick

Title: Wicked Revenge
A Wicked Angels MC Novel
Author: Zoey Derrick
Genre: MC Erotic Romance
Release Date: April 24, 2017

 

Blurb

 

“Hot and
sexy biker plus a female lead who was no wallflower made for a page turner that
hooked me and wouldn’t let me go. If you adore MC books like I do, grab this
one.” – USA Today Bestselling Author, Terri E. Laine
He was my protector when the world failed me.
He hid me away to keep me safe.
Protected me from those who would destroy me after they destroyed my family.
He wasn’t innocent, he was going to be the president of the Wicked Angels MC.
I knew he had secrets, we all do.
But then, he was gone. And I was alone.

Six years after his death, I see the world with new eyes, but those eyes still
want revenge on those who took my safe haven, my family, away from me.

I find myself with two choices. Let it go and move on, or what I’m going to do
– get revenge.

Knowing what I have to do, what I need to do, Logan ‘Loki’ Williams stands in
my way, loyal to the man who protected me all my life.

I have loved him since I was three. He was my brother’s best friend.

But right now, he isn’t my priority.
I’m so close to getting my revenge.
He may figure out my secrets, but I can’t escape him.
I won’t give up my plans for him.
No matter how much he worships my body and calls to my heart.
I will get my wicked revenge. Even if it kills me.

From Bestselling Author, Zoey Derrick, comes a BRAND NEW Standalone novel
about getting back at the ones who’ve hurt you the most. This story is filled
with bikers, biker antics, an Alpha Hero and sassy, feisty, get it done
yourself, Heroine. Wicked Revenge is the First in a Brand New Standalone Series
about the Wicked Angels MC, and clocks in at over 100,000 words!

Cover Model: Jeff Hoffman

Cover Design: Designs by Dana 

**** CONTENT WARNING ****
Contains sexy times between a man and woman, drugs, alcohol, bikers, and
violence.
Be prepared for a ride you’ll never see coming.

 

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Book Trailer
Author Bio
Zoey Derrick is a Best Selling Author of Contemporary, Erotic, Erotic Romance and Paranormal Romance from Glendale Arizona. She was once a mortgage underwriter and she now writes full time.
She writes stories as hot as the desert sun itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.
Not only does she aim to take her readers on an erotic dance that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish were true.
 Her stories are hopeful yet true to life, skillfully avoiding melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the heart of those that dare dipping into it.The intimacy of her fantasies that she shares with her readers is thrilling and encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.

 

Author Links

Book Blitz: Tainted by Love by Gillian Jones

 
Presents
 
Book Blitz: Tainted By Love 
by Gillian Jones 
 
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: Feb. 13, 2017
 


Add to your TBR
 
Available Now & FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
 
 
My name is Hendrix Hills.
When I was twenty-nine, I fell in love with a girl.
We loved fast. We loved hard.
But our love was tainted.
 
My name is Trinity Adams.
When I was twenty-seven, I fell in love with a boy.
We loved fast. We loved hard.
It’s too bad my blood was tainted.
 
 
Warning: Not your traditional HEA. May contain emotional triggers for some. There will be things that you won’t like and some you will, but I hope that you have fun finding out!
 
 






 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 
Wife, mother, proud Canadian. Shoe addict, red wine connoisseur, lover of laughter and the friendships that cause it. I’m a sucker for those epic romances that steal my breath and leave me always wanting more.
 
FOLLOW THE AUTHOR
 
 
Join the author’s group GILLY’S GEMS
Talk books, eye candy and everything in between.
 
 
 
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Only the Pretty Ones by Karen M. Bryson

Title: Only The Pretty Ones
Author: Karen M. Bryson
Genre: Romantic Crime Fiction

Release Date: June 9, 2017
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

She was the pretty one. She was the one who was taken.

Maxie Ford’s sister, Ella, has vanished.

When the police refuse to investigate, Maxie decides to take the law into her own hands.

With the help of a drug dealer, “Mickey Finn” Donovan, Maxie dives into the seedy underworld of the city in search of Ella.

What she discovers is a trafficking ring that abducts college girls for wealthy and high-powered men, and a legal system that is so corrupt no one is willing to stop them.

One

It’s the first time I’ve been out of my apartment in nearly a month and a drunk frat boy is engaged in a rambling conversation with my breasts.

I’m twenty-six. I’m getting too old for this shit.

I wonder if he’s even noticed that my knockers haven’t responded to any of his questions. The guy reeks of booze and cigarettes. All I want to do is escape, but he has me trapped between the end of the old wooden bar and the wall.

When he finally makes an effort to glance up at my face I feel like he’s focused on my chin. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

He wobbles like a newbie surfer trying to ride his first wave. When he attempts to perch on one of the bar stools, he ends up falling on his ass.

My sister, Ella, talked me into accompanying her tonight. Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead at a sports bar frequented by the overprivileged college crowd. But Ella pleaded, and I didn’t want her to go alone.

I’m a poster child for the bad things that can happen to women when they’re left alone with drunk college guys. That’s why I prefer to limit my face-to-face social interactions to my sister, my best friend, and the mail carrier.

“I know you said you didn’t want to drink, but I brought you one anyway.” She hands me a glass filled with cheap beer.

How do I know it’s cheap? It’s the color of piss and smells worse than a portable potty on a hot summer day.

I place the glass on the edge of the bar. “Thanks anyway.”

“You could at least try to fit in.”

The problem with her request is that I’ve never fit in anywhere.

My sister is a freshman at my alma mater: Big State University. I graduated five years ago. My parents wanted me to attend one of those prestigious private universities that line the northern East Coast. I had the grades to get in, but lacked the social savvy to succeed in the Ivy League. I chose to attend a less prestigious institution where the only criteria for admission is a pulse. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. The school isn’t second rate, but it’s also not the Harvard of the Florida Gulf Coast as some of the administration would like prospective students to believe. I thought I’d blend in better at someplace like Big State University. I was wrong. I was just as much of a misfit there as anywhere else.

The bar is packed with Big State University students. It may be a different decade than when I was a student, but the social stratification is still the same.

And I’m still a misfit.

“Fitting in is overrated.” I glance down at the drunk frat boy who took the tumble. He’s fallen asleep on the filthy, beer-soaked floor in front of me. At least I think he’s asleep. I kick him in the ribs just to be sure he’s still alive. He moans in response. “This is not my idea of fun.”

Ella ignores my disparaging remarks. She glances around the bar. “I don’t see Sean anywhere.”

Sean Harrison is the guy who invited Ella to meet him at the bar tonight. He’s the guy she’s been talking about nonstop for over a week. The way she’s built him up I expect nothing less than a Prince Charming who is going to sweep her off her feet.

Of course romantic gestures like that only happen to girls in fairytales. They don’t happen to girls who hang out in grungy sports bars frequented by Big State students. We’re lucky if the guys we go home with remember our names the next morning.

Ella bites her perfectly-pink bottom lip as her bright blue eyes scan the bar. “He said he’d find us.”

“Find you. He said he’d find you.”

My younger sister has always been the pretty one. Long blonde hair. Sparking sapphire eyes. Perfect features. Being pretty is the reason she’s holding a beer in her hand when she’s only eighteen. When she wants something, men rarely tell her no.

“Why are you always so down on yourself?”

Because when people can’t think of anything else to say about me, their go-to line is at least she’s smart. As if that’s a compliment. That’s what people say to parents when they have a kid who is awkward and unattractive.

“I’m a realist.”

“No, you’re a cynic.”

“Enough about me. I thought we were talking about your Prince Charming.”

“I think I see him.”

She grabs my elbow and pulls me through the crowd as she heads towards Sean.

I place my hand over my mouth to avoid gasping when I lay eyes on him. No one would accuse me of being a great catch, but this guy isn’t even in my league. He’s got a round toddler face on a squishy dad bod making it difficult to tell if he’s old or young. His hairline is receding, which doesn’t help his attractiveness quotient. He might be able to make a case for being a solid four on the attractiveness scale, if his clothes didn’t look like they were from his father’s closet.

“Ella.” He gives my sister a peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Her pale cheeks redden in response. “I’m glad we found you in this crowd. This is my sister, Maxie.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say as convincingly as possible. As I look the dweeb up and down I wonder what kind of spell he’s put my sister under.

He points to my empty hands. “You don’t have a beer.”

“I don’t like to drink and stride.” My attempt at humor fails miserably. Sean stares at me blankly. “It’s a play on words. Drink and drive. Drink and stride.”

Is there any greater torture than having to explain a joke?

He laughs politely. “I get it now.”

“Sean and I met at a coffee shop near campus,” Ella explains. “He loaned me a pen.”

“I always carry extras, just in case.”

“Sean’s a Sigma Psi.” Ella gives me a sly smile.

The pieces of the puzzle are slowing coming together. My sister has always had a fascination with the rich and powerful. Maybe because our parents always struggled financially.

Only the best of the best is chosen for Sigma Psi. For generations the fraternity has been the college home to the offspring of the wealthy and elite of the country.

Sigma Psi guys generally mate with girls in their own social class. Usually that means Delta Sigma sorority sisters. But the guys have been known to slum around with girls outside of their tax bracket when they want to get laid and don’t want to bother learning the girls’ names.

That doesn’t appear to be Sean’s motive though. He seems to be genuinely enamored with my sister. As if there’s a straight guy on the planet who has ever laid eyes on Ella who hasn’t fallen madly in love with her.

What’s strange is that Ella seems to be just as taken with Sean.

Just when I think things couldn’t get any more awkward a liquored-up blonde staggers up to us. “Don’t listen to a thing that comes out of this guy’s mouth.” She gestures in Sean’s general direction. “He’s a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

“Don’t you mean a wolf in sheep’s clothing?” I correct.

She tries to put a finger to her nose, but completely misses her beak. “I must be drunk,” she declares then laughs uncontrollably.

“Maybe you’d better lie down, Tiffany.” Sean’s tone is clipped.

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to miss all the fun.”

“You look a little green,” Ella says.

Tiffany smacks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I’m not feeling very good.”

She’s not looking too hot either. All the color has drained from her face. When her eyes go wide, I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that she might hurl. Instead she lets out a loud burp that smells like stale beer.

“Oops.” She laughs again.

Just as I’m about to let out a small sigh of relief she turns and pukes all over me.

It’s not a little bile barf either. It was an epic, head-spinning Linda Blair Exorcist spew. The entire contents of her stomach cover every inch of my dark clothing. I’ve even got chunks of half-digested hamburger in my auburn hair.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and stares at me blankly. “What happened? Did I get sick?”

“All over me.” I do my best to control the anger burning inside.

“Bummer.”

Before I have a chance to say anything else she stumbles away.

“The least she could have done was take her puke with her.” Even though I’m trying to make light of the awful situation, Ella and Sean stare at me in horror like I’ve been doused in gasoline and set on fire.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure them.

“Maybe you’d better go to the bathroom and get cleaned up,” Ella suggests.

Even though he seems harmless I don’t want to leave her alone with Sean. My job here is to be the overprotective big sister. “Would you come with me?”

She glances over at Sean then she looks at me. Then she bites her bottom lip. She seems conflicted.

“It’ll only be a minute,” I tell her.

As soon as she takes a step toward me Sean places a hand on her wrist. “Where are you going? You just got here.”

“I was going to help my sister in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“She’s a big girl,” he says. “I’m sure she’ll be okay by herself.”

Her brow furrows. “Will you be okay?”

“Ella’s in good hands,” Sean gives me a crooked smile. “I promise.”

“Stay right here, okay?” The place is packed and I’m not sure I’d be able to find them if they wander someplace else.

“We will,” Ella promises.

I notice that Sean takes her hand in his. The guy may be a dweeb, but he works fast.

As much as I don’t want to leave Ella alone with him the vomit is starting to dry and crust onto my clothing.

I carefully snake through the crowd as I make my way to the back of the bar where the restrooms are located. There’s a line to get into the ladies’ room. When I glance at the entrance to the men’s room it looks deserted by comparison. I opt not to wait. It’s not like I’m planning to use the toilet. The men have sinks just like the women do.

A sharp dressed guy is standing in front of a urinal doing his thing. He gives me a dirty look as I walk by.

“Are you lost, little girl?” There’s a hint of indignation in his voice.

“I’m not a little girl, and I’m not lost.” Admittedly I am short, but I haven’t been a girl in over a decade.

The grimy sinks look like they’re rarely cleaned. At least the water is clear when I turn on the faucet. I grab what’s left of the paper towels out of the dispenser on the wall and go to work on the vomit down the front of my black shirt.

Just as I start to clean the puke from my dark jeans Mr. Obnoxious from the urinal marches right up to me, invading my personal space. He gets so close I catch a whiff of his spicy cologne.

I don’t like anyone getting so close to me, especially guys I don’t know.

He glares down at me with dark angry eyes. I’m only five foot four. The guy looks like he’s nearly a foot taller than me. And he must outweigh me by a hundred pounds.

“What are you doing in the men’s room?”

I glare right back at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

The realization that we’re the only two people in the bathroom hits me hard. The guy obviously has some anger management issues. Maybe some girl he was hoping to score with rejected him. I just hope he doesn’t plan on taking his anger out on me.

“I’m looking for some action.” His eyes scan the length of my body. “You look like a fun ride.”

My chest tightens and my heart begins to thump wildly. I was a victim once and I swore I’d never be a victim again.

In one swift motion I remove a .22 Magnum from my handbag and point it right at the guy’s face. “I’m not interested in any action, asshole. Now get the fuck out of the bathroom before I blow your head off.”

His eyes go wide and he stares at me, dumbfounded for several long moments. “You wouldn’t really shoot me, would you?”

“I’d tell the police it was self-defense. That you tried to rape me. Just think how much money I’d save the tax payers. No trial. No he-said-she-said because you’d already be dead.”

He slowly raises his hands in a defensive gesture. “Okay, I get it. You’re one of those angry girls out to emasculate every guy on the planet.”

“Do you really think that’s a smart thing to say to someone who has a gun pointed at you?”

A moment of clarity seems to overtake him. “I’m sorry, okay. Will you just let me go?”

I nod.

He slowly backs away from me. When he realizes I’m not going to shoot him if he keeps his promise he darts out of the bathroom.

I put my handgun back in my bag. Then I scrub the rest of the caked vomit from the jeans. I do my best to wipe the half-digested chunks of burger out of my hair without throwing up.

For several moments I glance at myself in the hazy mirror. Maybe Mr. Obnoxious was right. Maybe I am an angry girl. And maybe I have been for a really long time.

The smell of sweat and stale beer overpowers me as I step out of the men’s room. Every inch of the place is now packed with drunk college students. It’s so loud I can barely think straight. And it’s sweltering hot. My first instinct is to bolt from the bar into the relatively cooler night air. Well, as cool as you can get in a subtropical climate anyway. I can’t leave without my sister though. I made a promise that I intend to keep.

I’m never going to let what happened to me happen to her.

 

Karen M. Bryson is known for writing new adult, love in midlife, contemporary romance and romantic crime fiction with a little spice and lots of heart. She is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry.

Karen is also an award-winning/optioned screenwriter.

When she’s not at her computer creating spicy stories Karen likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds. Karen has previously written under the pen names REN MONTERREY, SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and USA TODAY Bestselling author DAKOTA MADISON.

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Eight Days in the Sun by MK Schiller

Title: Eight Days In The Sun
Author: MK Schiller
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 2, 2017
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

Love needs only one chance to shine . . .

He followed in his family’s footsteps and just graduated Marine boot camp. Now Mason Cutler’s personal mission is to get plenty of sun, surf, and no-strings romance in his favorite laid-back Florida beach town before shipping out. But a chance encounter with reserved Kiran Shenoy becomes a golden day of conversation, connection—and an intense attraction Mason can’t walk away from. They make an agreement—eight sensuous days together without regrets or promises. Yet soon Mason is longing to convince the spirited woman behind Kiran’s sad beautiful eyes to take a chance on even more . . .

All Kiran dared hope for was a chance to heal after a tragic accident and a devastating loss. Mason’s freewheeling energy and head-on courage warms her scarred body and soul—and ignites her heart. But with their lives going in different directions, the only commitment they can make is a pact to meet again. Can what they feel survive Mason’s military duty, and Kiran’s second chance to restart her life? And can a desire sparked one summer night be enough for forever?

Mason takes a step toward me. I follow suit. Only a sliver of air is between us. The wind picks up and causes an annoying strand of hair to brush against my face. I think he’s going to tuck it behind my ear. Instead, he unclips my barrette. With a hand on each side of my face, he kisses my forehead. The kiss is tender and pure. His hands slide lower until his fingers fiddle with the bottom button of my shirt. Seeking permission, he gives me an assessing look. I nod.

He undoes the button. Then a second, and then a third. His fingers shake, or maybe that’s my body reacting. I never imagined being comfortable enough with anyone to expose myself. I can count the days I’ve known Mason Cutler on one hand. Yet there is a freedom between us I’ve never experienced with anyone else.

He gently pushes the fabric off my shoulders. It flutters away. My breasts heave in the simple white bra I’m wearing. He gazes at my body.

“You’re beautiful, Kiran.”

His fingers ghost over my skin. They slide along the biggest and ugliest of all my scars. A long, straight line that runs down my stomach.

“This is surgical?” he asks, not taking his eyes off it.

“Yes. They filleted me like a fish.”

He falls to his knees before me. He kisses that spot. Once. Twice. Three times. My legs shake, but not from any kind of pain. He grips the button on my jeans. Before he undoes it, he looks up, seeking permission once again.

“Take them off, Mason.”

They fall to the ground. Besides my panties and bra, I’m naked. Naked and not afraid for once. He stands. He places a finger under my chin and tilts my face until our eyes meet.

“Ready for that swim?”

“Yes.”

He takes my hand and leads me into the water. It’s chillier than I thought. But it could have been arctic, and I wouldn’t mind. The waves crash against us, threatening to push me to the ground. Mason holds me tight. The water comes over my waist. It’s dark and cool. Maybe it even breaks my self-imposed shackles. The moon is vibrant against the water as if the two are kissing.

When the water reaches just below my chest, we stop. I turn to him. He smiles softly. This time, he does tuck the strand of hair behind my ear.

I place a hand on each of his hips.

“One day we’ll go surfing together,” he whispers.

“I’d like that.”

“One day I’ll take you to the revolving restaurant on top of the Wilshire, and we’ll have ourselves a nice dance.”

“I’d like that too.”

“And one day, I’m going to kiss you under a full moon.”

“Make that day today, Mason.”

MK Schiller is a hopeless romantic in a hopelessly pragmatic world. In the dark of night, she sits by the warm glow of her computer monitor, reading or writing, usually with some tasty Italian…the food that is! She started imagining stories in her head at a very young age. In fact, she got so good at it that friends asked her to create plots featuring them as the heroine and the object of their affection as the hero. She hopes you enjoy her stories and find The Happily Ever After in every endeavor. M.K. Schiller loves hearing from readers. Find her on Facebook, follow her on Twitter @MKSchiller, and visit her website at mkschillerauthor.com.

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