






Ambere is a transplant from Arizona to Fort Worth Texas where she currently lives raising her three munchkins. She is an avid reader of all things Paranormal and Romance. Ambere enjoys music and tries to get to as many concerts as she can. Cessy is her debut novel, and she is currently working on the second book in The Silent Sons MC series. 




I slap my thigh where a mosquito just bit me. I wipe at another one that lands on my arm, and pretty soon the buzzing is loud around my head, and I’m frantically waving my hand around my face. A blood-sucking army is out tonight, and I scramble to my feet, snatch up the now empty bottle, and hustle toward the sanctuary of my house.
My heart lodges in my throat when I see a figure detach itself from the shadows of the porch.
“Was wondering how long it would fucking take before you came running.”
I bend over, gasping to get air in my lungs, when I hear the voice.
“I swear, Riordan Doyle…one day you’ll be the death of me.”
“Not what I had in mind,” he chuckles easily, as he grabs my arm, drags me inside, and out of the way of the charging mosquitoes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, as he takes the bottle from my hand, sets it on the counter, and pulls me into my living room. There he drops down on the threadbare couch and tugs me down beside him. “I thought you went home?”
“I did,” he confirms, throwing his arm over my shoulder and tugging me to his chest. “And I was just putting my feet up on the coffee table when I realized I didn’t want to be there.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeats. “Couldn’t relax. Started thinking about this…thing…between us. And you know what? Waiting for the right time is for the fucking birds.”
“It is?”
“It absolutely fucking is,” he says with conviction, curving his free hand along my jaw and turning my face toward him.
His hazel eyes are almost black in the scarce light of my living room, his heavy-lidded gaze roaming my features before settling on my lips.
“I’m thinking right now sounds like the right time.”
I can feel the deep rumble of his voice down to my toes, and my own drops a few octaves lower as well.
“You do?” I mutter breathlessly as his head bends down.
It’s clear from my distinctly unimaginative responses that my brain cells have signed off for the day. I’m starting to sound like a goddamn parrot, but Roar doesn’t give me time to linger on that thought. His mouth is already on mine and his tongue is demanding entry.
One moment I’m tucked beside him on the couch, and the next I’m on my back, Roar’s heavy frame covering me, his lips still firmly fused to mine. Good God the man can kiss.





Natalie Bennett is the creator of erotic stories that always come with a warning label. She writes about depraved alpha a**holes and women that love to hate them. Her books don’t follow any specific tropes, have no set word counts, and tend to deviate from traditional HEA’s.


From the New York Times bestselling author, K. Bromberg, comes a new series about three brothers, the job that calls them, and the women who challenge them.
“I hate you. I never want to see you again.”
Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville—at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade, ring in my ears every time a townsperson brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again.
Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons—sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer. But Grant is off limits because he knows too much about my past.
But I’m drawn to him. That damn uniform of his doesn’t hurt either. It’ll be my downfall. I know it.
What’s one night of sex going to hurt . . . right?
***
I’ve always loved Emmy Reeves.
That’s why I’m shocked to see her all these years later. The shy girl I once knew is all grown up.
Adventurous and full of life, she owns my heart now, just as much as she did back then. Convincing her of that is a whole different story.
I’ll give her the one night she asks for—like that’s a hardship—but when it comes to letting her walk away after, she has another thing coming. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go this time without a fight.
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New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.
A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.
Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times.
In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written.
She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales HERE
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About P.S. I Love You: First love is always better the second time around.
Basil Manning is happy with his life now that he’s given up on love. He has everything he needs…the houses he’s building, the mansion he’s renovating, and his Bernese Mountain Dog, Crash. In spite of his mother’s insistent attempts to see him married, Basil plans on staying a bachelor. That is, until he finds himself face-to-face with the woman who once broke his heart.
Healing from a long-term relationship that turned abusive, Meg Cooper has flung herself into running her eclectic shop, The Pink Moose. She can’t afford complications, and the too-hot-for-his-own-good Basil Manning, her one time almost fiancé, is definitely a complication. But that irresistible pull between them isn’t over…not by a long shot. If she’s not careful, she’ll break both their hearts…again.
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I stood, touching my lips as I watched from the back door of my apartment as Basil’s truck pulled out of the parking lot. He kissed me! He told me he was going to, and my God, he kissed me with enough passion for ten men.
But I spooked or something. It didn’t feel like it was the right thing to do and I asked him to stop, knowing where things would have ended up. The feelings were still there, but somehow different. We were both adults now. We’d both experienced sex on our own and were no longer the two naïve teenagers we once were. Something from that kiss told me once I let him in, he’d be there for me always. Was this what I wanted?
The familiar ping of my phone beckoned me back to reality. I pulled it out of my purse and stared at the screen.
Dinner tomorrow? It’s Saturday. You can meet Crash, and I have something of interest to show you at the old house.
R U texting and driving, young man? I grinned at my comeback as I hit Send.
Not to worry. I pulled over.
You have me curious, and I would love to meet Crash.
I’ll call you after I pick up dog and get him settled at home.
I tapped my nail against the phone, pondering my reply. I’ll be waiting.
Hearts and happy-face images followed.
I wandered deeper into my apartment, setting my purse down on the kitchen table. I still had the bottle of water he’d given me at his place. I took it along with my phone into the living room and sank into the comfy couch.
It suddenly dawned on me—someone had been in the apartment. The lid to my laptop was open, something I never did. But who? Worst yet, were they still here? I grabbed the baseball bat I kept by the back door and tiptoed through the apartment. I opened every closet, peered under the bed and behind doors until I was satisfied I was alone.
My nerves were rattled by the idea of someone being brazen enough to trespass into my private domain. But who? Time to get the locks changed. Better still, time to perhaps consider installing a security system both in the apartment and the shop.

This was a good story but I wanted it to go more in-depth. It almost glossed over thoughts and feelings and I just didn’t get dragged in to the story.
Meg has moved back home after breaking up with her fiance. Moved back home to stay with her sister and brothers and regroup. Her childhood ex-boyfriend, Basil, is a contractor and volunteers to help Meg’s store get off the ground.
Basil and Meg almost fall immediately back into a relationship. They’re adults now and they’ve lived some and know what they want.
I really loved Crash – but I’m a dog lover.
4 stars!

Writing romance stories with passion and sass, Jamie Salisbury has seen several of her books soar to #1 on Amazon. Her books are self published. Music, traveling the globe and history are among her passions when not writing. Her previous career in public relations in and around the entertainment field has afforded her with a treasure trove of endless story ideas.

The Biggest Season of her Career…
America’s sweetheart Tabitha Turner is on track to win figure-skating gold in the Winter Games. Her family has sacrificed everything for her career, but the pressure is taking its toll. Burned out and living a lie, can Tabitha let off a little steam without melting the ice?
The Last Chance of His…
Russia’s bad boy of skating Daniil Andreev is determined to prove the toughest thing about him is his competitive fight. When Tabitha tempts him to help her take a secret walk on the wild side, he gives her a taste of the freedom she craves, never expecting that one unforgettable night could turn into something more.
Two Hearts on Thin Ice…
Chicago, Vancouver, Paris… the international figure skating season unfolds. Tabitha and Daniil compete and fall in love, but as the pressure mounts in a make-or-break season, can they set aside their painful pasts and spiral into a shining future together… or will their dreams shatter like thin ice?
Amazon → http://amzn.to/2vHDP9o
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B&N → http://bit.ly/2vgs7QL
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2ujBxh8
Google → http://bit.ly/2vHFhbW


Elizabeth Harmon loves to read and write romances with a dash of different.
A graduate of the University of Illinois, she has worked in advertising, community journalism and as a freelance magazine writer. She feels incredibly blessed to have a career that allows her to spend her days imagining “what if?” and a loving family that keeps her grounded in the real world. Her debut novel, Pairing Off is a 2016 RITA Award Finalist.
An adventurous cook, vintage home enthusiast, occasional actress, and entry-level figure skater, Elizabeth makes her home in the Midwest, where life is good, but the sports teams aren’t. She loves to hang out on her front porch, or at her favorite local establishments, enjoy good food and wine, and talk writing with anyone who will listen.
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Treasured by a Tiger (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 14)
Felicity Heaton
Despised by his tiger shifter pride as an abomination, Grey has ventured far from home, deep into the bowels of Hell in search of answers about the machinations of Archangel, the mortal hunter organisation who held his twin captive. With no knowledge of the realm, and little skill with the local languages, he quickly finds himself at a dead end—until he crosses paths with a beautiful hellcat female who rouses his darkest most dangerous instincts.
Lyra has been a fool, falling for the charms of a male whose only desire was to make a fast buck by selling her. Shackled and collared, her strength muted by magic, she awaits her time on the stage at a black-market auction, but before it can come, all hell breaks loose and she seizes a chance to escape—and runs straight into a majestic warrior who steals her breath away and tempts her like no other as he battles alone to free everyone.
When Lyra offers her services as a translator to repay Grey for saving her, will he be strong enough to resist the needs she awakens in him and spare himself the pain of her inevitable rejection when she discovers the truth about him? And when the powerful male in charge of the slave ring starts a bloody hunt for Lyra, can she escape another collar and find the courage to trust the tiger who is capturing her heart?

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The special sneak preview for Treasured by a Tiger begins on September 3rd, exclusive to Felicity’s mailing list. Every subscriber is entered into the giveaway to win a signed personalised paperback copy of Treasured by a Tiger, with a chance to win a copy in each of the three exclusive sneak peek chapters being sent out on September 3rd, 5th and 7th.
Not only will joining her mailing list ensure you’re in with a chance of winning one of the signed copies of Treasured by a Tiger, it means you’ll start receiving her newsletters, where she gives away 2 x $25 Amazon Gift Cards in each issue, and rewards subscribers with exclusive excerpts, teasers, flash fiction and cover reveals, and plenty of fun! Plus, you’ll receive FOUR FREE EBOOKS in her Series Starter Library just for signing up!
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Someone peered over his shoulder.
A black clawed finger landed on the piece of paper in front of him, close to his. “Here.”
Grey jumped and growled at the male beside him. The warlock. Wizard. Whatever the hell he wanted to be called. He reeked of magic and death.
Even the succubus backed off, her usual bright smile and sultry air turning cold and dark. She said something, and the male said something back at her, a bite in his tone.
“You speak English?” Grey didn’t want to talk to the male, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere speaking with the bartender or anyone else in the joint.
The male didn’t nod.
Not a good sign.
“This is here?” He pointed to the name on the piece of paper again.
The male nodded and looked around. “Here.”
It was a start.
“You speak her tongue?” Grey pointed towards the bartender. “Speak. Her.”
The male frowned, his icy green eyes darkening a shade, and looked at the female, and then back at him. “Yes.”
Getting there.
But the male didn’t really understand him. He couldn’t ask complicated questions and have him relay them to the bartender for her to answer, and the male wouldn’t know the answer to them himself since he was clearly just passing through and using the village as a rest stop.
He needed to boil it down into something the male might understand.
“Mortals. Humans.” It was worth a shot. He pointed to himself. “I’m looking for mortals.”
The male’s eyes lit up. He pointed east. “Mortals.”
Grey looked in that direction. East. The dragon realm and the Devil’s lands were east of here. He slid his blue gaze back to the male, his hackles rising and his animal side growing restless, prowling beneath his skin.
Was the male telling him the truth?
“Mortals?” Grey pointed east, along the length of the bar.
The male nodded and attempted a smile. It came off twisted and disturbing rather than reassuring.
“Definitely?” Because he was starting to get the feeling that the male was trying to get him killed. “Because dragons are that way.”
The male shook his head. “No dragons. Mortals.”
Grey pulled the map out of his trouser pocket, spread it across the bar top and jammed a finger against the area Sable had labelled as ‘here be dragons’ and had drawn what he imagined was meant to be a dragon, but it looked more like a snake fighting a spider.
“Dragons.” He tapped the paper.
The warlock shook his head again, his eyes darkening another shade and his thin lips flattening. He jabbed a black claw against a spot west of the dragons, and east of their current location.
“Mortals. There.”
So close?
Was it possible?
“Here?” Grey pointed to the map.
The male looked as if he was going to kill him if he asked again, an inky sort of darkness growing around his pupils to devour the pale green of his irises.
“Okay. Here it is. Got it. Thanks.” Grey bundled up his papers and his backpack in his arms and left before the male could even think about muttering a spell to flay his fur off his body.
He breathed deep as he hit the village square again, shaking off his nerves and the sensation that the male was trying to get him killed. He just smelled of death, that was all it was. It had put Grey on edge.
He looked back at the tavern. Even the succubi had avoided the male. He turned away from the village and headed east, glancing at the male’s tent as he passed it. It was set up a good distance from the rest of the tents and from the huts, placed right against the perimeter wall of the village.
That struck a chord in him.
The warlock had come to the village, but had separated himself from them, was keeping his distance even though he obviously wanted to be around others.
The male had been helpful, but because he had looked different to the others, Grey had found it difficult to trust him. He had judged him on his appearance, and had believed he wanted to kill him because of that. He was no better than the others.
He should have been.
Experience should have taught him something, should have made him react differently to the male, but he had treated him with suspicion, just like the rest.
Just like his pride had treated him.
All because he was different to them.
Gods, he was no better than them.
He hated that.
It weighed him down as he trekked east, following the lead the male had given him.
It took him across the valley basin to the foot of a low mountain range.
He looked along it in both directions, and then at his map. By his calculations, the quickest route would be over the mountains, because the range stretched in both directions for miles. If he tried to go around, it would take him at least another day to reach the destination the warlock had marked for him.
By then, Archangel might have moved on.
He adjusted his pack on his shoulders, huffed and started forwards, picking a path up the gently sloping side of the mountain. He crossed a trail around two hundred metres up and followed it as it wound through the sharp towering rocks and up through tall crevasses that sliced into the black mountain. The trail grew narrow near the top, heading towards a sweeping curve between two peaks.
He brought his pack around to his front and pressed his back against the black rock as he edged sideways along the path, his eyes on the steep drop to jagged rocks below and his heart hammering against his ribs. No damn way he was going to fall. He breathed through the fear, refusing to let it get to him, and looked to his right, focusing on the path instead.
It opened up a short distance ahead.
Relief was quick to sweep through him when his boots hit the wider path and the trail led away from the edge, over the ridge.
Gods, he was tired.
He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow, and ran his other hand over his silver hair. He would rest on the other side. This high up the mountain, he was unlikely to run into any wild beasts. He could spare a few minutes to catch his breath and rest his legs. He unhooked the canteen from his pack, took a swig of the tepid water, and capped it and put it back again. He was getting low.
Thorne had warned him not to trust the water in Hell.
Apparently, some of it wasn’t water at all.
Grey didn’t want to know what that meant.
He figured it wouldn’t end well for him and that was enough to have him steering clear of hitting any stream he saw for a refill of his canteen.
He reached the top of the mountain.
His breath caught.
Good gods.
It was as if he could see the entire world.
Or at least all of Hell.
Beyond the valley far below him, steeper mountains rose, forming ridge after ridge into the distance, where the sky glowed bright gold. The Devil’s domain.
Hell was bleak, grim, but had a strange sort of beauty to it from up here.
He started down the mountain, his eyes leaping back to the view whenever they could, drinking it in. It was incredible. How big was Hell? He should have looked back in the other direction at the ridge to see if he could figure it out. Maybe he would stop there and drink it all in if he came back this way.
He picked out a spot to rest as he scouted the route ahead of him, a nice flat space just a little over halfway down the mountain and only accessible from one side, giving him some protection.
He was close to it when lights in the valley caught his eye.
He slowed his steps and tracked them as they flickered and danced, a row of flaming gold spots crossing the darkness, heading to his left, deeper into the valley.
Archangel?
He looked in the direction they were heading, and frowned. More lights glowed there. Another village? Or a base of operations for a mortal hunter organisation up to no good?
Thoughts of resting scattered and he marched down the mountain, intent on reaching the valley floor before the people walking towards the settlement reached it. He needed to find out if they were Archangel soldiers, and he needed to do it before they joined up with the others. He could handle a few hunters, but not an entire base of operations.
His boots skidded on the loose black shale as he hurried down the mountain, and he fought for balance more than once, attempting a controlled slide that would get him down into the valley quicker than using the paths.
When he hit the valley floor, he paused for breath, his eyes scanning the dimly lit world around him. He spotted the torches off to his left, about five hundred metres out from his current position. He drew down a deep breath, held it in his lungs to steady his heart and centre himself and exhaled slowly. His senses sharpened, his animal side rising to the fore, allowing him to see into the darkness ahead of him.
Allowing him to see the people crossing the valley.
Every inch of him stilled.
And then a slow burn started in his blood.
It wasn’t Archangel.
He growled low in his throat at the sight of the large male figures, at the thick chains they gripped, and the captives they dragged along behind them.
It was slave traders.
He caught a flash of the two tiger shifter females he had found huddled naked and terrified in their cages, held against their will by Pyotr, the male Maya had been promised to as a cub.
That burn grew hotter, fiercer, blazing white hot, and he curled his hands into fists, his emerging claws digging into his palms as his tiger side raged, battered his control and pushed him to react, to obey his instincts.
To protect.
No one deserved to be treated that way. No one deserved to be abused, mistreated, held captive and condemned to a life of fear.
He snarled through his fangs.
Dumped his backpack and stripped off his t-shirt.
These bastards were going to pay for what they were doing.

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Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince (Only 99c at all retailers!)
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger


Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.
If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:
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