Sep 30, 2015

Blog Tour-- Last Hope by Jessica Clare & Jen Frederick









Meet Mendoza & Ava in the explosive new Hitman novel from the bestselling authors of Last Kiss and Last Hit a jungle mercenary
and a female target find love on the run...

  LAST HOPE IS NOW LIVE!

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Jpkd7x






Blurb

Mendoza: I grew up in the slums and lost everything I loved to poverty, illness, and death. I had only one skill to leverage myself out of my circumstances—violence. Being hired out as a mercenary hitman brought me money and built an empire. But all that I've fought for is in jeopardy. My next job: Steal secret information that could bring down world governments. Find my target. Destroy it. But then, I meet her.

 Ava: Karma hates me. When my best friend Rose is kidnapped, I have no choice but to take a job as a mule for a pair of criminals intent on selling top-secret information to the highest bidder. I should have known that bad luck tends to cling, because the plane I'm on goes down. That I survived a crash-landing was a miracle. And so was being rescued by Rafe Mendoza—hot, sexy, dangerous. The thing is, he wants the information that I need to free Rose. I can't let him have it, but I need his help. And I need to fight this crazy attraction for this mercenary with hungry eyes. Rose is depending on me, and I won't let her down, no matter how appealing Rafe is.





LAST HOPE EXCERPT 


The ricochet of the bullet has swollen my eye shut. I might be slightly concussed from the free fall from six thousand feet into the jungle. I’ve no clue where we are and we have no supplies, but I’ve never been happier than when Ava stuck her tits into my face. Those babies felt like the softest pillows ever created and I would’ve been happy to suffocate in damp valley of cleavage. Maybe I’d even get the chance to lick her sweat away.

I might have groaned and pretended my injury was worse to lengthen the moment. Her delicate hands smoothed over my forehead and, it may have been my imagination, but it seemed liked she might’ve lingered over my hair. Dig in, I want to grunt.

“What the heck is that sound?” Ava clutches me to her.

If I don’t answer, does that mean I can stay in this position forever? Because I want to. Actually, no, I’d like to move over and suck one fat tit into my mouth until it’s hard as a diamond. Then I’d like to slide down until my mouth is level with her pussy and see how salty sweet she tastes between her legs. The beast between my legs roars to life and it’s a good thing that the monkeys above us scream again, causing her to jump and strike my good eye with her elbow. The pain serves as a reminder of where we are, who I am, and what the fuck I should be paying attention to.

“It’s the howler monkey. They sound like humans screaming or sometimes like the jaguar. They’re kind of dumb and if we found Afonso’s gun, we’d be able to kill one and have meat every night for a week.”

She shudders. “I don’t want to eat monkey.”

The jungle is hot and wet during the day and cold at night. If the mosquitos don’t eat you alive, the jaguars and anacondas might. Not very many people can crash-land into the middle of the Amazon and make it out alive, but I’m upping our odds from around 20 percent to 50 percent based on Ava’s positive attitude. Unless my eye heals up, I’m not giving us more than that. If we could find the Boy Scout bag, though, we could bring our odds up significantly.

“There’s plenty of food in the Amazon from plantains to fish, so if you don’t like monkey, we won’t eat it.”

She shudders again. “Thank you.”

“You a vegetarian?”

No, that couldn’t be right. Didn’t she eat some prosciutto at the café? But I want to hear it from her. I want to know everything about her.

“No, but for some reason eating something that screams like a human freaks me out.”

“Monkey is off the menu,” I say, making no attempt to move away from her rack. “I have a knife in my belt.”

“Do you have anything else besides the knife?” she asks. Her tone is accusatory like I’m holding out on her.

“No,” I say slowly. “Just the knife.”

She narrows her eyes and then reaches out with her good hand and pokes my waistline. “What about that?”

“My pants? I don’t think that they’d fit you or they’d be a good weapon. Besides, I’d rather my legs didn’t get eaten by mosquitos.”

“Look, if you just plan on leaving me behind, then do it now. Don’t string me along.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Just my luck to perv on a crazy woman.

“That!” she spits out, and this time her finger jabs lower, right into the meat of my dick. I flinch back. “I can tell you’re packing something. What’s that thing in your pocket?”

“None of your fucking business,” I growl out, my happy feeling sucked away. I can feel the heat rising in my face that has nothing to do with the humidity. I will my erection to subside but as she stares at it, it does nothing but grow.

“Oh my god. Is that a . . . that’s not a gun, is it?” Her lips part in shock.

“No.” The erection isn’t going to go down anytime soon. Not with her eyes wide with wonder. She raises her gaze to me and then drops back down again, and hell if she doesn’t lick her fucking lips. I turn away, unzip, and then pull the shaft straight up behind the waistband of my cargo pants. I fasten the zipper, carefully, and then pull my T-shirt down over the top. It hides most of the problem. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

I surge to my feet, catching her off guard. She stumbles back and thankfully stops staring at my junk. “Enough,” I growl more roughly than I intend. “We have important things to concentrate on, like where are we going to sleep for the night.”

She looks stricken and nods in agreement. “Sorry, I just was taken by surprise. You don’t have to tell me what’s in your pocket if you don’t want to. But I need to remind you that we’re in this together.”

I feel like an ass. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that she thinks my dick is fake. That’s a new one. 





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





Hitman Series Reading Order

Last Hit (bk 1)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1IUePI1

Last Breath (bk 2)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/15ab84J


Last Hit: Reloaded (bk 2.5)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Gdj5GH

Last Kiss (bk 3)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1yvLD9e

Last Hope (bk 4)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1Jpkd7x


Meet Jen & Jessica



Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog.  She's been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.




Author Jessica Claire
This is a pen name for Jill Myles.
Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the 'naughty parts' of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.
After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own - stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.





GIVEAWAY
$100 Visa Gift Card












Sep 29, 2015

Teaser Blast-- Wicked Restless by Ginger Scott



WICKED RESTLESS

Very Mature YA Contemporary Romance
Scheduled to release: October 20, 2015


Amazon:

Google:







BLURB:

Andrew Harper grew up in a house marked by tragedy. His older brother Owen did his best to shelter him, but you can only be protected from life’s pain for so long. Eventually, you end up just feeling numb…and isolated.

Loneliness was the one constant in Andrew’s life. Until one girl, met by chance in a high school hallway, changed everything. Emma Burke was a mystery and all that was beautiful in this world, the only air Andrew ever wanted to breathe. She took the lonely away, and filled it with hope and color, and Andrew would do anything to keep her safe, happy and whole.

But sometimes, what feels good and right is what ends up hurting us the most. And when Andrew and Emma are faced with an impossible decision, Andrew is tested to see just how far he’s willing to go for the girl who owns his heart.

Cuts are deep.

Scars are left behind.

And revenge beckons.

When Andrew finally gets his chance, in college, five years after his first love broke him completely, he finds out old feelings don’t really disappear just because you say you hate someone. The more he tries to avenge all that he believes he lost, the more he uncovers the real story of what happened years before.


Love is wicked. But a restless heart is never satisfied beating on its own. Can Andrew and Emma make it right before it's too late, or will the ties that bind them now destroy their only chance at a future?






About the Author:





Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling author of eight young and new adult
romances, including Waiting on the Sidelines, Going Long, Blindness, How
We Deal With Gravity, This Is Falling, You and Everything After, Wild
Reckless and The Girl I Was Before.

A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she
often blends the two in her stories. (She’s also a sucker for a hot
quarterback, catcher, pitcher, point guard…the list goes on.) Ginger has
been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than
15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors,
scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns. For more on her and her work,
visit her website at http://www.littlemisswrite.com.

When she's not writing, the odds are high that she's somewhere near a
baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce
Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona
Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college
sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork 'em, Devils).

Social Media Links:
Twitter: @TheGingerScott






Blitz Tour-- Our Little Secret by Ashelyn Drake







OUR LITTLE SECRET by Ashelyn Drake

- SYNOPSIS -

Becca Daniels needs a passing math grade…but what she wants is to spend more time with Toby Michaels. 

The only problem is Toby is her best friend’s twin, and Tori has a very firm “no dating the brother” policy. 

But Becca’s grade has hit rock bottom and she needs a tutor. It just so happens that Toby is a math genius and more than happy to help—lucky her! Working so closely with the handsome, popular Toby, Becca can’t hide her attraction, and it soon becomes obvious he feels the same way. 

Becca doesn’t want to lose her best friend, but she isn’t willing to give up Toby either. 

At first, sneaking around is fun, stealing kisses right under Tori’s nose. But things take an ugly turn when Toby’s ex-girlfriend Meredith catches them together. Meredith demands Toby take her back and restore her reputation, or she’ll tell Tori their secret. Do they dare tell Tori the truth? Or would that just make things worse? 

Surrounded by secrets and knee-deep in deception, something has to give… 

How far is Meredith willing to go to keep Toby and Becca apart? 

And how much is Becca willing to risk to keep… 
Our Little Secret?




- PURCHASE - 

Available for FREE on Kindle Unlimited!














- ABOUT THE AUTHOR -
ASHELYN DRAKE


Ashelyn Drake is a New Adult and Young Adult contemporary romance author. While it’s rare for her not to have either a book in hand or her fingers flying across a laptop, she also enjoys spending time with her family. She believes you are never too old to enjoy a good swing set and there’s never a bad time for some dark chocolate. She also writes speculative fiction under the name Kelly Hashway. She is represented by Sarah Negovetich of Corvisiero Literary Agency.




This tour is brought to you by:






Excerpt Reveal-- Fatal Beauty by Nazarea Andrews

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Today we are revealing chapter 1 from FATAL BEAUTY by author Nazarea Andrews. This book will be released October 13th and it is an Adult Thriller.



Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00033]




Click here to ADD THE BOOK TO GOODREADS




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FATAL BEAUTY BOOK BLURB:



Charlotte was a good girl. 

Sweet and innocent, a debutante with her Daddy’s credit card and a fiancée who doted on her. 

She was destined for a perfect picture life in Charleston. 

Until everything goes wrong. 


EJ grew up with everything she could ever want, and bored as hell. 

Nothing surprises her and nothing ever changes, and she wants out—whatever it takes. 

Getting involved with Anthony Jacobs is probably the worst idea she’s ever had—and that makes it irresistible. 

Until Charlie needs her.


 New Orleans. Los Angles. Vegas. 

Beautiful girls who know just how to get exactly what they want. 

It’s all fun and games, sexy nights and wild parties. 

But you can only manipulate your way out of so much, and when their past catches up, not even a pretty fucking smile will get them out of trouble this time.



FB_2WEEKS


EXCERPT:

Las Vegas Police Department, Interrogation Room B. 


Detective Blackmon: State your name for the record. 
Charlotte Brooks: (clears throat) Charlie Brooks. 
Detective Blackmon: Your legal name, ma’am. 
Brooks: Charlotte Suzanne Brooks. 
Detective Blackmon: Have you been advised of your rights, ma’am? 
Brooks: (soft laugh) you advised me of them. So yes. 
Detective Blackmon: Do you want to tell us how you came to know Ms Ella Jane Munro?
Brooks: Where is she? 
Detective Blackmon: Ma’am, I need you to calm down and give your statement. 
Brooks: Where the fuck is EJ? 
Detective Blackmon: At night fifty pm the LVPD were called to a hotel room secured with a credit card in your name. Upon searching it, we found drugs, weapons and almost two hundred in cash. Do you want to say anything about that? 
Brooks: I wasn’t in that room, and neither were my belongings. You verified that. My wallet was stolen. And I want EJ. 
Brooks: Why the hell are you looking at me like that? 
Detective Blackmon: Ma’am… 
Brooks: (screaming) where the hell is EJ? 


Chapter 1 

If she could look at it, with the hindsight of everything that had happened, she would say that it all began six months before Wallace Bryce Talbert went missing. The day Ella Jane Munro sold Llewellyn Koonts a hit of blow in the locker room of her father's country club.

Of course, if she had the luxury of hindsight, she might have changed everything by simply going to lunch at the Greenhouse instead of tennis at the club. 

Then again. Charlotte had never had much use for hindsight and even less for regrets.

 *

Charlie Brooks was an institution at the Buringtree Country Club. She had grown up in the halls, played tennis early and well, swam in the summer and pranced around the greens in tiny shorts, her blonde hair bobbing in her signature braid.

She was a perfect debutant. Sweet as sugar when it suited her, and an utter bitch when it didn't. The staff at the club lived in fear of her temper. HR had to step in when she was in high school and they couldn't keep a staff--Charlie either terrorized them into quitting or demanded they were fired over minor infractions. 

And because she was Travis Brooks only daughter, she usually got her way. 

Ella Jane Munro was different from Charlie. Just as bitchy, just as demanding. Filthy fucking rich. But Charlie revealed in who and what she was born to. She never wanted anything but to be the queen bee at her private school, at the club, and Vanderbilt. Everything she did was carefully calculated for how it would reflect on her and how people viewed her.

It’s why she and Ella Jane had never gotten along, despite being in the same circles.

From the outside, they would have made the perfect frenemies. Self-destructive, the kind of too close back-stabbing that would fuel the wet dreams of high school boys with visions of love hate sexcapdes.

Ella Jane and Charlie didn't cooperate. Ella was bored to death with country club life and everything expected of a deb. And she might be an it girl, in her blasé way, but she never aspired to steal Charlie's crown.

They existed for most of their life, in a kind of live and let live détente.

No one could explain why that changed. It was whispered about, of course. Two of Charleston's favorite daughters, suddenly inseparable? Everyone had a theory. No one knew the truth, though.

No one would have ever believed the truth. 

 * 

The door to her office opened and closed again, in the kind of way that was an announcement. She swallowed a smirk and layered another coat of pale pink on her nails.

Most girls would pay for a manicure, but she had always found the ritual of her nail care to be soothing. 

The cash slapped down on her desk and she blinked at it slowly before letting her gaze slide lazily up to the woman across from her.

Sharp green eyes, long jet black hair with a single streak of magenta in bangs cut across her forehead. A pair of designer skinny jeans and a loose, sheer black tank top scattered with polka dot skull and cross bones, lace edged cami under it showing off her amazing tits.

Only Ella Jane could stalk into her office in designer jeans and a Walmart clearance top and look perfect instead of ridiculous.

“Your half.” She says.

Charlie finishes her last finger, admiring it briefly before screwing the lid on her nail polish and giving the other woman her attention. 

When are you meeting with Jacobs?”

“Tomorrow. Don’t be impatient, greedy girl.”

She bites down on the acidic response that wants to rise, and arches an eyebrow silently. EJ stares at her for a long moment, before she huffs a sigh and drops into the high back leather chair across from her.

“You can’t do anything until Monday anyway. Isn’t your engagement thing tonight.”

It’s posed as a question, but she knows damn well when it is. Charlie goes still and her gaze clouds for a heartbeat.

“Do you want me to come?” EJ asks, quietly.

The offer startles a laugh from Charlie and she grins, a dry, mocking thing. “And how the hell would I explain that? No. Stay on your side of the club, and I’ll stay on mine. I’ll be fine.”

There’ a tense moment, as they stare at each other, and Charlie wonders just how much EJ suspects. 

They weren’t supposed to become friends—it was a business arrangement. One that benefited them both and made EJ’s supplier happy. But it had evolved.

It made her nervous, and nothing made her nervous. She didn’t like it.

“Don’t be a bitch, Charlie,” EJ says coldly.

“Then don’t fucking hover.” Charlie snaps. 

Anger flares in EJ’s eyes, for a moment, and then it vanished, and she stands. “Fine. Have fun with your boy.”

Her tone is mocking and knowing and it stings a little as she watches EJ leave.

For a moment, it occurs to her that she should apologize. She dismisses it just as quickly and grabs the stack of cash, standing and moving to the wall where her safe is.

It’s crammed with cash and a small black revolver. As she adds the new stack to the others, she touches the gun.

It’s soothing, and her unease and nerves settle at the touch of the cool metal.

It’ a standard black Glock. Most of her girlfriends carry a tiny pink pistols they can tuck into their Coach bags with equally ridiculous sized dogs. But Travis Brooks always said that if she wanted to be man enough to carry a gun, she’d damn well carry a man’s gun. 

"Charlotte? We have a meeting with the partners.”

She snaps the safe shut, keying the lock and spins to smile at her fiancée. 

Wallace Bryce Talbert the Third. Tre to his friends and enemies alike. A golden boy in her father’s law firm, and the man she had promised to spend her entire life with.

He’s grinning at her, holding a hand out and she swallows her nerves and fear as she places her hand in his and follows him out of the office.

 * 

EJ pads out of her bedroom, her naked body wrapped in moonlight. A bottle of spumante sits discarded in a silver wine chiller, and she grabs it as she moves to her purse and pull out a pack of cigarettes. She smokes almost pensively, staring out the window. Behind her, she can hear him moving and she keeps her gaze trained on the window as smoke curls around her, dissipating slowly.

“You should come back to bed,” he says, and she can hear the tease in his tone. She barely manages to keep from rolling her eyes as she wraps her lips around the cigarette again, pulling one last time before dropping it into a forgotten champagne flute.

“You should go. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

Surprise and anger chase across his face, and she waits to see if he’ll follow through.

Clayton Poole was the heir of an ancient oil tycoon, and would be much more interesting if he would lose his temper every once in a while.

He was a fun fuck, always took care to get her off, and he opened doors even she couldn’t walk though. But he was boring as fuck when they weren’t naked.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, lamely, and she flick a look at him as she pours a glass of spumante.

“Don’t. I’ll call you soon.” She gives him a smile and kisses his cheek before returning to her bedroom. 

She lets out a sigh when the door shuts behind him, and settles on her bed. It smells of sex still, but she’s too drunk and lazy just now to strip the sheets.

Besides, she likes the smell of sex, even if Clayton isn’t her favorite fuck buddy.

There is a joint in her bedside table and she fishes it out and lights it, pulling on it deeply as she thumbs through her social media.

The entire newsfeed is abuzz with the engagement party of the year, and she grits her teeth. She should have been there. Clayton had been invited—Charlie will be pissed he didn’t show, a thought that strings a smirk across her lips—and she could have crashed it. Nothing to be done once she was there. 

Once upon a time, it would have been amusing just to get a rise from Charlie. 

When the fuck had that changed? When she realized that Charlie was just as unhappy in their fucking perfect life as she was? 

Or was it when Charlie blackmailed EJ into sharing her distribution, earning her respect as more than another empty headed social climber.

She huffs, and takes another pull on the joint. The smell of weed fill the bedroom, covering the scent of sex. Her muscles are loose and relaxed against the bed and she let’s her phone drop beside her, drifting on her high, drunk and post-orgasmic relaxation combining to pull her down into sleep. 

The room is pitch black, her body hot and sweating against the rough duvet when she wakes. Her mouth is dry and for a disorienting moment, she wonders where the hell she is, and what happened.

Her phone buzzes against her thigh again, and she fumbles for it. 

"Charlie?” she croaks, and swallows. Reaches for the spumante on the bedside table.

“I need you.” 

The whisper from the other end of the line chills her, and she shudders, rubbing away the goosebumps that trace along her arms.

That’s it—those three words and nothing more. 

Sleep is forgotten completely as she sits up and nods. “I’ll be right there.”   



       ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  

NazareaAndrews



Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

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