Monday, November 30, 2015

The Secret of Obedience by Liv Rancourt Release Blitz

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Book Title: The Secret of Obedience 
Author: Liv Rancourt 
Genre: M/M romance 
Release Date: November 30, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions


Can a jock find love with a hot little hipster? Opposites attract, but secrets divide.

Ronnie Durand is a country boy who transfers to the University of Washington after two years at Central. He'll have to give up playing football, though finishing his education at a major university in Seattle - and being out and proud without having to look over his shoulder - makes the sacrifice worthwhile.

But finding friends at a huge school is tough, especially when the hottest guy Ronnie meets makes him doubt his own sanity.

Sang's been on his own a long time. He's only a couple steps away from living on the street, and he's got dreams so big they don't leave space for a steady boyfriend. Then he meets Ronnie, who just might be strong enough to break through his barriers....as long as Sang lets him in on one big secret.







My bike's parked right in front of the club. "Are we going far?" I ask.

"Four or five blocks."

I hand him the helmet. "Get on."

He slides the helmet on, and I help him tighten the buckles. He chitters a laugh, making the moment silly and a little awkward. I straddle the bike, and when he climbs on behind me it turns me on so bad I almost come again. Damn. I want to be stretched out in a bed with Sang, both of us naked, with a box of condoms and a Costco-sized bottle of lube.

With nudges and hand signals, he guides me to a big brick apartment building about a quarter mile away. I park, and he springs off, leaving me with a sharp shiver at the loss of his heat. By the time I get the bike locked up, he's on the front door phone.

"I need your bed, chica."

"I'm in it." The voice is muffled, most likely female, and laughing rather than annoyed.

"Then your couch."

The phone clicks and goes to dial tone, and the door buzzes. I follow Sang through the lobby, where the dark burgundy carpet could be original to the 1940s. We jog up a couple flights of stairs and down a hall to an open apartment door.

"Go." He hustles me in, then throws the deadbolt and taps on a closed door to our right. "Thanks, baby."

An indistinct bleat answers him, likely from the location of the occupied bed. The rest of the apartment is one room with a kitchenette in the corner. It's dark except for the streetlights outside, but Sang knows where to find candles and a match. We're quiet, wordless, working with borrowed solitude. Compared with the thrash of the nightclub and the sleazy bathroom stall, I'll take it.

I dump my jacket and helmet on the dining table. Sang sets two candles on the tiny bookcase, hauls me over to the couch, and pushes me down. I'm laughing, because for a little guy, he's bossy as hell. Then he straddles me, and I want to kiss him without pissing him off. I drag him close and nuzzle his neck, tasting, testing, planting not-kisses in a hot line down his throat. He sighs, and I take it as permission to keep going.

His pants are stretch leggings, so it doesn't take much to get them worked down over his hips to free his dick. It's so elegant, tapered and smooth. I want to suck on it again, to bring him off and make him sputter in Korean or Chinese or whatever language he babbled in last time. If he wanted me to, I'd fuck him, but he'd have to ask. I'm not really much for butt sex. If a guy's into it, I'll do what he wants, but my own preference is for hands and mouths, everything slick with spit and lube. I like messy sex. And kissing. I really like kissing.

I stroke him, rubbing my thumb over the head of his dick, and he flops against me like I've disconnected his spinal cord. The room smells of smoke and roses, and he's fumbling at my zipper, those delicate hands all trembling and raw, so I reach in and help. My hand's big enough to wrap around both of us, the heat of his thrust enough to drive both of us crazy. His lace shirt is tangling in my fingers and around our shafts, so I undo the buttons and shove it off his shoulders. My black silk is already kinda trashed, but he does the same for me, exposing my chest.

Our thrusting goes from eager to urgent to needy, his heavy-lidded gaze trapping me. His climax hits like a rocket, like fireworks going off in a black July sky. I follow, but it's more of a tease, dragged out, slow and seductive until I can't breathe and I arch off the couch. Sang crawls up my chest, hanging on, laying open-mouthed kisses over my ear, down my jaw.

If I'm lucky, this night will never end.

"We need to go soon."

His whisper hits me like a slap. "I'd bring you back to my dorm," I say, "but I haven't given my roommate the homophobia quiz yet."

He raises up and smirks at me. "I don't like him already."

I run a hand over his shoulder, smoothing his ruffled feathers. My calloused fingertips catch in the lace, and I wonder how something so old fits like it was made for him.

"What are you studying in that big school, anyway?" His question is tentative, cautious.

"Exercise science or maybe business. I haven't chosen a major yet." I pause, giving him a chance to ask a follow-up question. When he doesn't I step up. "What about you? What are you studying at that big school?"

He grimaces and shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm not at your school."

"Oh, it's my school now?"

He pats my cheek. "Yes. Your school."

"I see you every day in World History."

"No one sees me.” His lower lip softens, and he catches it with the tips of his teeth. “They see the clothes.” He reaches for the lace blouse, shaking it out and tossing it over his shoulders. “They see a girl or a scenester or a queer.” He stands, shakes his junk back into his stretchy pants, does a little hootchie dance to organize things. “No one sees me. Not even my family.”

Old pain erodes his effervescence, showing through the cracks like basalt under soil. I'm stretched over the couch, on display, my shirt open and my dick hanging out of my jeans. He covers my eyes with his hand, but I knock it away.

“I think you look real good. I’d like to see a lot more of you.”

Which sounds really kind of lame and try-hard, but this is what I came to Seattle for, too. Adventure. Maybe even romance, the kind I can show off in public.

“I want to,” he says.

For a moment he shows me his profile, private, thoughtful, and I give him some space to go on.

“And if I was going to see someone,” he continues with more laughter in his tone, “he’d be a lot like you.”

“So let’s do it.”

I should probably feel bad when he doesn’t respond, but the back-to-back orgasms catch up with me. I tip my head back and close my eyes, fighting sleep. Sang’s rummaging around the apartment. Haven't a clue why he’s lying about school and why he won’t take me up on my offer, but after two evenings he's an itch I won't be able to scratch on my own, so I let it go. Country boys are known for their determination.



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I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire…or sometimes demon, and I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.

I can be found on-line at all hours of the day and night at my website & blog (www.liv-rancourt.blogspot.com), on Facebook (www.facebook.com/liv.rancourt), or on Twitter (www.twitter.com/LivRancourt). Come find me. We’ll have fun!



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Sunday, November 29, 2015

Pieces of Me by Jacquie Underdown Preorder Blitz #Giveaway




Pieces Of Me

Book Title: Pieces of Me 
Author: Jacquie Underdown 
Genre:New Adult Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: December 8, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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A story about starting fresh, letting go, and risking it all for love …

For Hannah, Mercy Island is a refuge, a new beginning, and a place to find safety in her own skin. Here, in this peaceful, beachside place, she will rediscover all those pieces of herself her abusive ex stole away. For Bear, Mercy Island is a prison, a backwater, a place he can’t wait to escape. Away, in the city, he’ll chase his dreams and lose the bad memories haunting him.

When Hannah's home is damaged in an ugly storm, Bear offers his handyman services to repair it—a last job and a pretty girl to pass the time before he heads out. But Hannah is terrified to lose herself in another relationship, and Bear isn’t in it for the long haul.

However, their simmering sexual attraction refuses to be ignored, and just because love isn’t on the line doesn’t mean sex isn’t on the table. A no-strings-attached brief fling to curb the tension and take the edge off. No ties. No emotions. No pain.

But love has a way of coming in the windows, even when you’ve slammed the door, if only Hannah and Bear can stop looking to the past and find hope in their future.



I watched Bear’s hands as he kneaded the pizza dough, and all I could think about was having those hands on me. All over me. He met my eyes—that something always present. A hunger.

The air was buzzing. His gaze questioned me. Dared me.

I kept on kneading. Silence fell between us, but our desire was so damn loud I couldn’t drown it out. I wanted him so bad, I ached. An ache only his lips against mine would satisfy.

Was I willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it? His leaving be damned. And just kiss him. Cross that item right off the list.

He handed me a dish and I popped the dough inside to leave it to sit for half an hour. He did the same. I covered it with cling film and washed my hands. All distractions from the need unfurling in my body like a flower in bloom.

I met his gorgeous green eyes and grinned sheepishly.

He held my gaze, not looking away, not letting me look away either. How could he do that, lasso me with his stare? He’d done it from the first moment I saw him through the windscreen of his car.

He took a step closer, slowly, as though testing the water. I didn’t back away. Hell, I was so damn ready for this, I felt like grabbing his shirt and yanking him towards me. Another step until he was standing close, his body-heat mingling with my own. Face nearer, his lips met mine, a soft quick touch. A short second of space, then he pressed his lips to mine again, firmer, and lingered this time as we breathed each other in.

I backed away, far enough to peer up at that gorgeous face, into those eyes. Our lips met once more, firmer now. He opened my mouth and his tongue found mine, warm and silky. My stomach tugged and tensed with the sensation. I tilted my head so his mouth slanted over mine as I sought more from him. The quietest mewls sounded in my throat, yet it had the power to explode my yearning like a flame to dynamite. I deepened the kiss, tasting, wanting.

I didn’t want to, I really, really didn’t want to, but I dragged myself away from that mouth and body. I couldn’t look at him for a moment, couldn’t trust myself, and yet couldn’t make distance between us. I wanted to scream. And I wanted him so bad, hard, dirty and endlessly, just like in my dream.

My chest was heaving. I traced my finger over my lips; I could still feel him there and I ached for more. We stared at each other, trying to ignore the crackle in the air, the magnetic pull, the deep crushing desire.

He leant closer. I wasn’t going to stop him. Couldn’t. His hands crawled under my shirt, touched the skin of my stomach. Oh that feels so good. My muscles quivered. I sighed as he gripped my waist and pulled me to him. Chest to chest.

Couldn’t stop.

And we were kissing again with fervent lips, breath and tongue. I couldn’t not kiss him. And editor or not, I didn’t give a rats about that double negative. My hands were on his waist, back, arse, and I was pulling him harder to me.

‘Do you know how good you taste?’ he whispered as he nibbled and sucked at my lips.

That tongue and the sweet salty scent of his hair and skin. I wanted more. Needed more. And he gave it, long warm licks against my tongue until I couldmelt to the floor.

I managed to drag myself away and look up at him.

He smiled so warmly, his eyes bright and cheerful. ‘Hannah,’ he said in his deep, delicious voice.

I grinned and blushed until I had to look away. ‘We better get these pizzas cooking.’

He laughed. ‘Yes.’





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Jacquie resides in rural Victoria, Australia. On permanent hiatus from a profession she doesn't love, she now spends her time wrapped up in her imagination, creating characters and exploring alternative realities.

Jacquie has a business degree, has studied post-graduate Writing, Editing and Publishing at The University of Queensland, and is currently finishing her research dissertation as a student of the Master of Letters program at Central Queensland University. She is an author of a number of digitally published novels, novellas and short stories that are emotionally driven and possess unique themes beyond the constraints of the physical universe.



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Saturday, November 28, 2015

The Warriors of Sir Guy by Saloni Quinby Book Blitz



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Book Title: The Warriors of Sir Guy 
Author: Saloni Quinby 
Genre: M/M Paranormal Romance 
Release Date: November 8, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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In 1205, a faithful knight was excommunicated for using his powers as a warrior witch to battle evil. Joining forces with other witches, he started a fellowship and for ten years led his brothers into battle against demons.

Then he was captured, tortured and killed by the demoness, Cassia. His companions, calling themselves The Warriors of Sir Guy, hunted and destroyed her, but her offspring by Sir Guy fled. For eight hundred years The Warriors of Sir Guy have tracked the half-demon, vowing not to rest until the creature is destroyed.

Born with the powers of a warrior witch, Robin was sent as a boy to train with the fellowship. Now a man, he is on the verge of fulfilling his coven's quest for justice by slaying the half-demon child of their founder. No one realizes that the offspring is his father's son. Only Robin sees the good in him. When he warns Robin that demons have infiltrated the Warriors of Sir Guy, the lovers are thrust into a battle that might destroy them.



Robin threaded his fingers through Guy's and their grip tightened.

"Is this really what you look like, or is the shape change for my benefit?" Robin asked.

"This is what I really look like. And the beast is what I really look like."

Robin nodded in understanding. "Ah."

"You seemed to trust me more as the beast. Maybe I should change back."

"Not yet." Robin dipped his head toward Guy's and covered his mouth with a kiss.

He'd never kissed a demon before.

Half-demon.

No, half warrior witch.



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The child of a painter and a psychic dreamer, Saloni Quinby feels spirituality and storytelling go hand-in-hand. She loves the scent of gardenia, the sound of wind chimes and the taste of honey. By listening to what isn't said, she creates works based on unspoken desires. Saloni prefers blurred gender lines and many varieties of romance. In a world where passion must at times be restrained, she believes erotica is a pleasure to be shared. With her stories she would like to make her fantasies yours and hopes you enjoy the ride. Saloni also writes as Kate Hill.



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