Release Tour – Page 5 – TBR Book Blog

Release Tour ~ Perfect Match ~ by ~ Alexis Alvarez

Title: Perfect Match

Author: Alexis Alvarez

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: November 6, 2017

Cover Artist: Jessica Hildreth

Cover Photographer: Wander Aguiar

Cover Model: Jacob Cooley

She’s the matchmaker…he’s her sexy client. What could go wrong?

Fia Martin has a tough job: Find the perfect woman for arrogant, handsome Dylan Chambers, before her rival can do it––on national television. If Dylan declares her the winner, Fia’s match-making business will skyrocket.

Dylan is picky. He’s smug. He reminds Fia that he doesn’t believe in true love. The dates she sets up for him end in complete disaster. And every time she tells him to behave, he flirts with her shamelessly.

A stolen kiss turns to a night of unbelievable passion and the best sex of her life…but Fia knows that Dylan’s not interested in more than a fling, because he’s still going on dates for the challenge like nothing happened.

When Dylan chooses her competitor’s company for his final dream date in Hawaii, to a woman who looks perfect on paper, Fia figures she can kiss the trophy goodbye. The problem is that she’s about to lose her heart, too…to the one man who’s completely unavailable.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “So—why don’t you see what I wanted to show you.”

“Okay.” She felt a sudden anxiety. “Um, where is it?”

“Around the wall. Behind that partition. Go past the metal sculptures, and turn right.” He gestured, then stepped in behind her and flipped on the light. It took a while for the overhead fixtures to flash into life, as if the electrons were asleep, dusty, rusty like the sculptures. She could almost hear them sighing and complaining as they warmed up. Something hummed.

Confronted with the fact that she was about to see something dear to him, she felt unaccountably shy, and tried to hide it. “Is a clown going to pop out? Is it that kind of weird performance art? There better not be a clown.”

“There aren’t any clowns.” His voice was taut. He crossed his arms. “Go ahead, then, if you’re so eager.”

“Okay. I’m going.” She looked back at him once, then walked ahead.

She walked forward past the rusted metal amalgamations, meldings of gears and beam shards that did nothing for her but raise questions and disappointment.

When she turned the corner, she sucked in her breath, confronted with things so magnificent that she, at first, didn’t think they were real. A low metal table held a collection of orbs, some of glass, shining, other metal. Different sizes and shapes, some oblong, some spherical, they glowed with a presence, calling her forward. They were otherworldly, gorgeous, strange, and hypnotic. The colors! Such swirls and whorls, like each one was an entire planet, but also maybe something like a seed, a flower, an ocean.

“These—are yours?” They were like the things in his house, the ones she’d admired.

He came up behind her. “Yes.”

“Can I touch?” She felt the raw need to come closer. “God. These are amazing.”

“Every sculpture in here can be touched.”

She reached out to the closest orb. “Can I pick it up?”

“If you can lift it.” His voice held amusement.

She struggled in vain to pick up a large sphere, moved to a smaller, fist-sized one. It was surprisingly heavy, a bowling ball in her palm. “What’s this made of?”

“What’s it made of?” His voice held a smile. “My heart.” But despite the expression, his eyes were ferocious, serious, rapt, as he watched her touch.

She held the small one in both hands, pressed to her chest. “I want it. I want to own this. It’s beautiful.” She looked at it, moved it around to examine all the parts of it. “I don’t want to stop looking at it. I want to eat it. Absorb it. Have it in my house, so I can see it all the time.”

He gave a short laugh, and she could swear that her praise made some tension drain out of him. He looked looser, lighter, like a weight was lifted from him. “Don’t overdo it. Maybe you just like them because you hated Anthony’s stuff so much.”

She shook her head. “No. I could have walked past the Sistine Chapel and I’d still love these.” She put it down and stroked it. “It feels warm! Alive. Smooth. Tingly, sort of. How did you do that? And how do you make it shine?” She tilted her head. “I love the way they catch the light.”

“Secret of the trade,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll never tell.”

“I love them.” The words came all at once, in a rush, and it was true, and she knew it was true. These things, these spheres, they were singing to her, all of them, a wordless tune that hit her in her soul. She looked up and met his eyes. “I love them.” Her voice was hushed.

He smiled, and it lit up the harsh planes of his face, made his eyes glow. “So do I.”

He stepped in and she felt the warmth of his body as he intruded into her personal space, and she leaned in just slightly, as if to encourage him to come further, to keep coming until they were only atoms apart. She smelled his faded cologne and his own masculine scent, mixed with the odor of paint and wood in the warehouse. She could see his tendons when he swallowed. His eyes were gorgeous.

“So we have something in common.” Her voice came out breathy and low.

“A miracle.” He smiled, and his dimple showed. She nearly melted. His face was so close! “Although I think we have more than a few things in common at this point, Fia.”

“I guess we do.” When he reached for her, she didn’t resist, and when he stood her in front of him and undressed her with his eyes first, before unzipping her dress and silently pulling it down the curves of her body, she acquiesced.

The only thing she said was, “Here?” glancing around the vast space, the corners dark and foreboding, as if strange things, colorful magical things might be hiding there, alert and untrustworthy. But the light in the center shone down like a spotlight, accentuating his features and making his eyes shine.

He nodded. “Right here.” He pointed to a chaise lounge under the lights, blue, velvety.

“It’s like we’re on a stage.” She felt as if they were in a strange theater.

“Nobody will watch. It’s just us.” His voice was low. He stripped off his shirt, took off his jeans and boxers. Nude, with the lighting creating highlights and shadows on his body, he looked mysterious, chiseled, a perfect Greek sculpture, each muscle just so, his face gorgeous and powerful.

She slid off her lacy thong and tossed it aside, and faced him, naked. The look in his eyes almost scared her; he was so fierce, so raw.

“You want to play by my rules again?” he murmured, walking around her. He picked up her hair and fisted it, then kissed her neck.

She shuddered at the touch of his lips. “Yes,” she whispered. She stood still, like a statue herself. She wondered if the lights flickered and gleamed on her skin like on his, whether he saw her like a living piece of art, too.

“You want me to be your master again, right here, right now?” His grip tightened on her hair, not painful, but she was definitely aware of his strength.

“Yes.”

At that, he snaked one arm around her flat stomach and pulled her against him. She sucked in a breath when she felt his hard cock pressing into the seam of her ass. With his other hand, he dropped her hair, letting it flow back over her shoulders, and gripped her neck, firmly but not too tightly, and pulled her into his head that way, too. They stood that way for a minute, just breathing, his hands hot on her throat and belly. His cock twitched and she pushed her buttocks back into his body, wanting more.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was low.

“Yes.”

“Completely?”

“Yes.” It was true.

“Good.” He released his grip. “Please go over to the chaise and lie down on your back. Close your eyes.”

She started to vibrate with excitement and felt moisture seep down her thighs. Just imagining what he was going to do, how he might tease her in terrible and delightful ways, made her body hum with eager anticipation.

She walked over, swaying her hips, and arranged herself as gracefully as possible. She shot one look at him before letting her lids shut: He was stalking toward her, that feral look, his body so strong and sexy—that was the last image she captured before she closed her eyes, and that picture stayed floating behind her eyelids, flickering in and out.

Her pulse accelerated as she heard him approach, and she flinched slightly when he touched her hair.

“Relax.” His voice held humor. “I’m not going to hurt you…yet.”

“Dylan?” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“And when I do, it will only be the way you like it.”

Alexis Alvarez is an author, photographer, and digital designer who loves writing steamy romances. Her female heroines are always strong, intelligent women who fall for the sexiest guy around…and get the happy-ever-after ending of their dreams.

Alexis is a wife and mom, a former chemical engineer, a dachshund-whisperer—wait, that’s a lie. The dachshund usually does the exact opposite of what he’s told.

Do you like contemporary romance with steam and humor? Darker BDSM/erotica novels with fascinating psychological insights? Alexis has you covered. She writes in both genres.

You can usually find Alexis hanging out with her sisters, who are also romance writers, in their Facebook Group, Graffiti Fiction. The three of them love to drink wine together and laugh like hyenas while making dirty jokes and really inappropriate comments. They have a website which is not always updated here: www.graffitifiction.com

Release Tour ~ Stryke First ~ by ~ Sandrine Gasq-Dion

Title: Stryke First

Series: Rock Series #5

Author: Sandrine Gasq-Dion

Genre: M/M Romance

Release Date: October 15, 2017

Rebel Stryker has had to fight to survive from the moment he was born to a heroin-addicted mother. Raised by his grandparents, his only mission in life was to succeed where his mother had failed. Now, he and his childhood best friends tour the world as a famous heavy metal band. Like any rags-to-riches young man, Rebel definitely enjoys the perks of being in the limelight.

But now something has changed.

Rebel never wanted to fall in love, shying away from relationships and relishing his ‘no worries’ rock-star persona. But there’s something about the band’s new manager that catches Rebel’s eye. Despite fighting it with everything he has, Rebel finds himself succumbing to man’s quiet ways. It doesn’t hurt that the guy loves Rebel’s grandpa — the one relationship that means the world to him.

Staying true to his name, Rebel fights against the tide of attraction drawing him in. But it’s only a matter of time before love finally strikes.

Stan Jackson is hiding a secret. A Very Big Secret. One he prays will never come to light, especially since life is pretty good now. He finally has a good job, and he considers the people around him friends — even if they don’t see him the same way. All he’s ever wanted in life is to blend in, not make waves, and move on through. Now, as the manager of the internationally famous Skull Blasters rock band, he is put squarely into bassist Rebel Stryker’s orbit. He spends a lot of time with Rebel’s grandfather, which is not only fun, but rewarding. Another big benefit is that Stan gets to see Rebel all the time. When his past catches up to him, Stan learns that he isn’t just the Skull Blasters’ manager.

He’s a part of their family.

I glanced up from my laptop as Rebel’s grandfather sauntered by me naked as the day he was born. He was scratching at his ass and mumbling and I cocked my head to the side.

“Grandpa? You forgot to put on underwear.”

I got a snort as he continued towards the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time—nor would it be the last time—that Augustus Stryker would be without clothing. I was told within five minutes of meeting the man that I had to call him grandpa or Auggie, and then I was told to call him grandpa. I placed my laptop on the table next to the couch and stood up, cracking my back and neck.

I sighed and walked around the coffee table to the kitchen. Grandpa was watching the coffee pot and I stood next to him.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Waiting for it to brew.”

“Grandpa, you need water and coffee grounds for that to happen. Go put some pants on and I’ll make coffee, okay?”

“You’re such a good boy, Stan. Taking care of me. When are you going to find yourself a man with a big dick?”

“Grandpa!” I blushed furiously and ducked my head.

“You know my Rebel is pretty well hung, just like his old man and me.”

“Okay, that’s wonderful. Could you please put some clothes on?”

“I don’t like em’! They itch!”

“All right, I’ll make sure the nurse adds fabric softener this time, okay?”

“She left.” Grandpa stared at the ceiling and squinted.

“What do you mean she left?”

“I don’t know. She just walked out.”

“Grandpa.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “What did you do?”

“I did nothing!”

“Why don’t I believe you?” I sighed as he continued to look at the ceiling. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for that spider to rappel down.”

“What?!” I jerked away and looked up. Sure enough, a huge spider was dangling above us. Call me a pussy, but I hate spiders. I mean I really hate them.

Best selling author, Sandrine (Sandy) was born in Inglewood, California. Raised by “Old School” French parents, she later moved to Tucson, AZ. It was there that writing became a hobby. Always told she had a great imagination, Sandy wrote short stories for her friends in High School. In college, she took more writing classes while working on her Criminal Justice degree, but it wasn’t until a soap opera caught her eye that she got involved in male on male romances. On the advice of a friend, Sandy dipped her toes into the world of M/M Romance. Sandy takes the writing seriously and has had countless conversations with gay men as well as hours of research.She’s been involved with the military in one way or another for over twenty years, and has a great deal of respect for our men in uniform. She’s traveled the world, but has finally returned to Arizona.

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Release Tour ~ The Longing ~ by ~ Piper Davenport

Title: The Longing

Series: Dogs of Wolfpack #2

Author: Piper Davenport

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: October 10, 2017

She wants only him…

For as long as she can remember, Poppy has loved only one man. Devon Wallace has been her knight in shining leather ever since he rescued her from a date gone wrong. She can’t envision a future without him, but she’s convinced he still thinks of her as the pesky twelve-year-old who used to follow him around.

He can have anyone but her…

Devon “Sparky” Wallace has spent the better part of a decade trying to keep his hands off his uncle’s step-daughter, Poppy, and living by the code of the brotherhood. He’s not about to break the rules, no matter how much he fantasizes about the sexiest woman on the planet.

But when her connection to him puts her life in jeopardy, he must figure out a way to save her without breaking the club’s code, even if that means losing her forever.

18+ for language and sexual situations…

Piper Davenport is the alter-ego of New York Times Bestselling Author, Tracey Jane Jackson. She writes from a place of passion and intrigue, combining elements of romance and suspense with strong modern-day heroes and heroines.

She currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two kids.

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Review Tour ~ The Learning Hours ~ by ~ Sara Ney

He’s not a douchebag;

but that doesn’t stop his friends from

turning him into one.

MY FRIENDS WANT ME TO GET LAID.

So much so that they plastered my ugly mug all over campus, in bold printed letters:

Are you the lucky lady who’s going to break our roommate’s cherry?

Him: socially awkward man with average-sized penis looking for willing sexual partner. You: must have pulse. Text him at: 555-254-5551

The morons can’t even spell. And the texts I’ve been receiving are what wet dreams are made of. But I’m not like these douchebags, no matter how hard they try to turn me into one.

THIS ISN’T THE KIND OF ATTENTION I WANT.

One text stands out from hundreds. One number I can’t bring myself to block. She seems different. Hotter, even in black and white.

However, after seeing her in person, I know she’s not the girl for me. But my friends won’t let up—they just don’t get it. Douchebags or not, there’s one thing they’ll never understand: GIRLS DON’T WANT ME.

Especially her.

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He’s seated at a table in the far corner when I spot him from the door. He’s not hard to miss—not with his purple t-shirt in a sea of black and yellow, and wavy mussed hair.

He’s slouching, hunched over his table.

Defeated. Tired.

My stomach rolls with nerves, nerves that have me rooted to the spot in the doorway, watching him.
Just watching.

For the entire four minutes I stand here, he sits immobile, studying his laptop, eyes moving along the screen, completely transfixed by whatever he’s reading.

Learning.

“Just go over there,” I whisper to myself, blowing out a puff of pent-up air.

I put one foot in front of the other and begin toward him, spine ramrod straight, steeling myself, prepared for another argument.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen.

Eight.

Two.

“Hi.”

No reply.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I lay my hand on the back of the wooden chair across from him, intending to pull it out.

He stiffens but doesn’t lift his head. “Yes I mind.”

“Would you mind if I sat at the table next to you?” I’m pushing his buttons, looking for a reaction, but he only spares me a brief glance.

Shrugs. “Free country.”

I bite my lip to hide a smile, glad he didn’t tell me to take a hike…

I haven’t read any of the other Douchebag series but they came highly recommended. And I see why after reading this one! And so I’ve bought the other 2 books but you don’t need to read those in order to understand this one.

This “douchebag” is learning how to be one because he’s anything but! He’s a country boy who just wants to do his thing. But his roommates think he’s no getting out there and getting laid enough. So they take it upon themselves to get him out there.

The girl is more popular but notices the douchebag. And is intrigued by him. So what started as a joke could turn into something more.

A great, sweet read that I truly enjoyed!

5 Stars!

Sara Ney is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the How to Date a Douchebag series, and is best known for her sexy, laugh-out-loud New Adult romances. Among her favorite vices, she includes: iced latte’s, historical architecture and well-placed sarcasm. She lives colorfully, collects vintage books, art, loves flea markets, and fancies herself British.

She lives with her husband, children, and her ridiculously large dog.

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Release Tour ~ Of Flame and Fate ~ by ~ Cecy Robson

Title: Of Flame and Fate

Author: Cecy Robson

Release Date: September 26, 2017

Publisher: Cecy Robson, LLC

Series: Weird Girls Flame #2

Genres: Urban Fantasy

Taran Wird, who commands the power to wield fire and lightning, is an oddity in the supernatural world. But neither Taran nor her unique sisters compare to the bizarre entity known as Destiny. And Taran is assigned to protect her.

Born of two witches, Destiny is revered among the supernatural elite for her acute ability to predict the future. Her biggest prophecy involves Taran’s sister, Celia, whom Destiny decreed will bear children strong enough to take on the evil that’s rising. Yet Destiny is not alone in her predictions, or individuality.

When Johnny Fate, a rock star among humans and a male version of Destiny is discovered, his powers and Destiny’s clash, triggering the start of Destiny’s demise and altering the fate of Celia’s unborn children.

Taran, her werewolf lover Gemini, and their allies must determine if it’s Fate who will decide what will become of Celia’s children, or if their lives and the world will perish with Destiny.

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The doors crash open as a pack of weres in human form stomp in, the exception being an immense, midnight-black wolf with a white left paw who leads them. His lips peel back, exposing a row of pointy fangs as he growls at the vampires surrounding me. But it’s the man storming forward with dark almond eyes and a six-inch dagger in his hand that gives me pause.

“Hi, honey,” I say, giving him a little wave.

Funny thing, he doesn’t wave back. His gaze swoops over my naked body. “Hold her,” he snarls, ramming the knife into my thigh.

Reality shoves aside the shock of having the man I love stab me in the leg. Like a heated blade through butter, he slices through the skin and muscle, creating a diagonal line and spraying blood across the glass shower walls. I expect pain, scorching white-hot pain, and to lose my blood supply in large volumes. But like the creepy crawly beneath my skin, I just feel that wretched pulling and grabbing.

My bleeding trickles to a stop just as Gemini’s hand plunges deep into the incision. The image is so graphic and brutal my stomach lurches. I’m seconds from passing out. The vamps on either side of me are the only thing keeping me vertical. But when my focus latches onto the hilt of the dagger, and I realize it’s a femur—a freaking femur!— my body immediately slumps.

Of course, that’s not the worst part.

The tangle of bodies, limbs, and faces, carved around the hilt twitch, as if seizing, breaking free of what’s holding them to slither. Oh, and it gets better. The mouths open, singing one messed up version of O Fortuna.

“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, my body trembling violently as their slowly amplifying voices echo across the room.

Agnes grips my jaw, yanking my face toward her. “Taran, get it together before you set this whole place on fire.”

I wrench my head free. “Don’t you think I’m trying?!”

I bite back a curse, and a few more, when something scampers toward my right butt cheek.

It doesn’t get far. Gemini thrusts his hand deep, wrenching a large, screeching lump from my leg, exciting the minute faces continuing to sing and slide along the hilt. Their voices crescendo and their bodies writhe with glee. I don’t get a good look at the demon impaled by the dagger, and I don’t want to. I only see enough to realize I was right about the spindly legs and pinchers.

Gemini carries the shrieking demon to the sink, ignoring the way the long cluster of centipede legs kick out and clutch blindly at the air. I wish I could ignore it. But those things you can’t unsee? I’ve seen plenty in my twisted, messed up life and this is one more to add to my list.

Gemini holds out his free hand. Without asking, a vamp drops an opened bottle of vodka into his palm. Gemini pours the vodka over the demon, stunning it and causing the legs to fall open like petals—nasty petals covered with blood, pointy grippy ends, and little bits of me.

With a turn of his wrist, he drops the demon into the sink. It falls with a sick plop.

Agnes’s weight abruptly pulls off me when she stands and hurries to the sink. She flicks a lighter another vamp tosses her and drops it on top of the demon. “Ad infernum,” she tells it, sending it back to hell.

The vamps step away from me as the flames spray up to lick the ceiling. The exception is Edith who remains on her knees, clutching my leg between her breasts and sealing my wound with several fast and enthusiastic strokes of her tongue.

“Get away from her,” Gemini demands. His voice is more beast than human, setting off an orchestra of snarls from the rest of the pack.

Like a very hungry dog with a bone, Edith doesn’t want to let go. Gemini doesn’t give her a choice. From one breath to the next, he rips me from her, wrapping me in a blanket someone hands him and carrying me away.

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CECY ROBSON is an author of contemporary romance, young adult adventure, and award-winning urban fantasy. A double RITA® 2016 finalist for Once Pure and Once Kissed, and a published author of more than eighteen titles, you can typically find her on her laptop writing her stories or stumbling blindly in search of caffeine.

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Release Tour ~ Bounce ~ by ~ Kailee Reese Samuels

Title: Bounce

Author: Kailee Reese Samuels

Genre: Dark Romance/BDSM

Release Date: September 12, 2017

She escaped into his arms.

AMBER

I have everything I could want – the man of my dreams, his baby girl, a great career, and a beautiful home. I should be happy and having the time of my life. But I just can’t…

The past I left behind haunts me, threatening to destroy everything. I worked so hard to escape, yet the hooks are piercing into my soul, pulling me to the past and forcing me into a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I know this time, he may not be able to save me.

His heart brought her freedom.

DALE

Every day I wake up thankful my beautiful angel is back in my life. I have it all now. But something is missing—the darkness I crave. I know I can’t exist without it. I need the tears in her ache and the fears in her sobs.

The closer she is to me, the less my grip becomes. I am losing control of her, of us, and worst of all—myself. And I cannot imagine the monster I will become when I let go… all to get her back.

The hunt is on in the love affair of Mae East & Cyclone Blonde.

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Embracing diversity. Coffee addict. Mango lover. Blueberry fetishist. Sweet peach tea crazy. Red wine devout. Whiskey deviant. Tattooed & pierced. Loves shoes. Collects rosaries. Fanatical organizer/cleaner/list-maker. Never sleeps. Hermit and recluse.

Storyteller.

KAILEE REESE SAMUELS has been spinning tales since she can remember. Her books are contemporary fiction with a no-holds-barred attitude. She adores listening to her character’s ramble and putting them into situations that push the boundaries.

Creativity is the way to change.

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Release Tour ~ The SOS Series ~ by ~ Kailee Reese Samuels

Series: SOS Series Boxset

Author: Kailee Reese Samuels

Genre: NA/Coming of Age/Dark Romance

Release Date: August 20, 2017

All four books of The SOS Series – The Initiation, Tea for Two, Grunt, and Hopechest – bound together in the backstory of Sal Raniero.

Uncover the reasons behind his pain, learn his hidden secrets, and delve into his lucrative web of associations. Ride alongside as he grows from the submissive golden boy of Juliet into a Dominant to behold.

Starting with The Initiation, Sal explores his need for pain, entertaining thirteen Masters. Charming his way through the weekend, he is left to decide between two and chooses both. In Tea for Two, he discovers that not every trinity is holy when confronted with an unimaginable loss. The betrayal and lies collapse his world as he discovers not everything is what it seems. Taken hostage in Grunt, he is forced to determine who he truly is. With his body broken, his mind and heart follow in this paralyzing round of redemption. Returning home to an uncertain future in Hopechest, Sal challenges the real meaning of love. The Pixie holds his heart in her hands as she lures, “No more excuses. No time to fight. Just love me.”

Hot.

Wild.

And dangerous.

Sal Raniero finds trouble at every twist and turn.

Hold on tight and get ready to ride with one tough bastard and an unforgettable man.

Creativity is the way to change.

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Release Tour ~ When We Swing ~ by ~ Kyla Ross

Title: When We Swing

Author: Kyla Ross

Genre: Erotic Thriller

Release Date: August 15, 2017

Friends have a way of breaking a person out of their comfort zone . . .

Mark has always felt like an outsider. Growing up, being bullied and teased, he doubted his life would ever get better. Then he meets his new college roommate, Blain Prazzel.

Blain is the opposite of Mark, popular and oozing a sex appeal women can’t resist. Mark would kill to live in Blain’s world and gets his chance when Blain invites him and their roommate, John Motley, to a party.

After college, they go into business together and quickly become an overnight success. But when they each find their mates; their friendship is put to the test.

Will these women interfere with their bond or will they find a new adventure awaits each of them? Where darkness and light sing their own forbidden melody of taboo? Where words, when spoken, have the power to change their lives forever?

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Chapter 1- Mark

The after-work sun crept between the mountain peaks coating the road in a golden glaze. Aching for a stretch, Mark shifted his shoulders. The hour-and-a-half drive sure needed to end soon.

Casey leaned forward, dabbing her lips in fire-red lipstick with the help of the sun visor’s mirror. With steady hands and a still face, she was like an artist sculpting a masterpiece on an airplane experiencing life-threatening turbulence. Mark didn’t even have to look at her to know. He’d spent most of the last ten years staring.

Mark, or Mr. Introvert as they called him in college, preferred staying in the background. Growing up, he seldom had friends, but his parents were never around much to notice. Mrs. Lane was a pediatric nurse and Mr. Lane was a traveling photographer. With no siblings, very few acquaintances, and more bullies than he could count, Mark was a loner and preferred it that way. But when he hung out with Blain Prazzel and John Motley, his perception of sociality twisted.

It was Fall 2004, Mark faltered over his suitcases through the door of the dorm room. Oak framed twin beds lined three walls. Next to each was a personal walk-in closet. Oak desks stood in the center, propped against each other, back to back with two on either side. Wooden seats were pushed up against each desk and a bulky TV sat atop one of the desks.

Mark’s brow drooped at the whooshing of running water booming behind a closed door to the right. He sighed. The bed propped against the window had a leather duffel bag stretched across it and an open laptop propped on a plump pillow. Royal blue sports sandals sat beneath the footboard.

Mark inched over to the bed diagonal of the taken one and dumped his backpack, laptop case, and a suitcase. Pressing his palm against the mattress, he frowned. Even a mattress pad wouldn’t grant him a good night’s sleep. Cutting his eyes away, a ball of frustration clogged his throat. Sharing his space, an uncomfortable one at that, demolished the worth of the full ride provided by his scholarship.

The bathroom door slung open and out came a tall, olive toned, gray-eyed preppy dude. His collared polo and khaki shorts reminded Mark of the things he’d brought along.

Great, and this asshole may take my clothes. He’d been sure he was done with bullies as he strolled across the stage, kissing grade school and its sour memories goodbye.

“Hi, I’m Blain.” Blain’s husky tone shook as he patted his hands dry on the front of his shorts and extended one to Mark.

Mark dropped a brow and stared.

“Shy, huh?” Blain chuckled and flopped down on his bed, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “So, where you from?”

“Here,” Mark replied.

“Me too!” Blain said. His baritone timbre and flashy smile took Mark back to the jocks and pretty boys: the ones he wished he could be. But he was too shy to give it a go and always found himself doing their homework or eating their fists when they were in a bad mood. God. And I have to share a room with this guy?

With the faintest smile, Mark said, “Cool.”

“Hey.” Blain dug his elbows into his knees as he moved up to the edge of his bed. “There’s a party going on tonight at one of the frat houses. I heard there was gonna be some nice ass there. Coming with?”

Mark sat tongue-tied for a few seconds. Was this guy inviting him to a party? To hang out with fraternity guys? And girls? Pretty college girls? Mark shook his head.

“Oh, come on. Why not?”

“Because I have to study.” It was bogus rolling off his tongue. Mark was more than prepared for classes that didn’t start for another day or so. Some courses he could pass with his eyes closed.

“What’s your major?”

“Accounting.”

Slapping his chest, Blain spread a toothy grin and said, “Me too! Wow. I didn’t take you for the nerdy type. A baseball player, but not a nerd.”

Mark smirked. “Yeah? Me either.” A baseball player? Though he’d hiked and jogged religiously, no one had ever taken Mark for a baseball player.

“Yeah, well, my dad owns an accounting firm, so I don’t have a choice but to prepare to take over when he retires. He’s been preaching about networking and building a team. Ya’ know, bull shit.”

Mark raised a brow and cocked his head at the guy. “Really?”

“Yeah, man. If you want or if you’re still around this summer, I can get you in there for an internship.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. “Um, sure.”

“But only if you come to this party with me.”

Shit. Mark frowned. He hated being cornered or manipulated. But if this kook was telling the truth, he’d benefit. And if Blain was lying, Mark knew where to find him. Huffing and clearing his throat, he said, “Fine.”

After several hours of unpacking and listening to Blain chatter on about the different races and smells of women he’d had or wanted, Mark was relieved when it was time to head out. But another guy, this one tanned with a brawny chest and tall with sky blue eyes, barged in with a sack across his back while they were checking for wallets and phones. Though his luggage reminded Mark of someone homeless, his baseball cap, jeans and t- shirt were fresh and crispy.

“Hey man, I’m Blain.” Blain extended a hand.

The tall guy groped it with his open palm and nodded. Gravelly, he said, “John.”

“Me and Mark, over here, are going to a party. Wanna come? Supposed to be more than enough to look at.”

“I’ll come, sure. As long as there are drinks.” His deep voice cracked a little. “What time you guys leaving?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Blain flopped down on his bed and Mark did the same.

After tossing his sack on the bare mattress across from Mark’s, John peered in the body mirror, turned his face cheek to cheek, then said, “Alright, let’s go.”

Bits and pieces of that night still made Mark blush. Flashes of bong smoke, bare tits, and the stench of alcoholic vomit stuck with him. Bulbous street lights flashed from either side of the stony pathway. Evergreen canopies and morning dew clung to the air. The bitterness of vodka and pale ale swirled around Mark’s tongue. Stomping on, with the help of his new-found buddies, Mark was overwhelmed with joy, a rolling gut, and slurred words.

“We got you,” Blain grunted, hoisting one of Mark’s arms up as it tried sliding off his shoulder.

“No. Ugh. I love you guys. I never―” Snatching his arms from Blain and John’s shoulders, Mark bent at the waist and fell to his knees. Heaving, liquid spewed up his throat, dousing the ground and coating the backs of his hands.

“Are you sure you’re a drinker, dude?” John asked through breaks of his explosive laughter.

“Come on, we gotcha,” Blain said, grasping Mark’s shoulder. John did the same. They dragged Mark to his bed, caring enough to flip his sandals off, and pull a sheet over his limp body.

Though he’d sworn off alcohol and parties after that night, Mark continually found himself a part of Blain’s escapades. He and John dragged Mark to parties and clubs on and off campus. One party just so happened to be a rush they’d tricked him into, leading to the trio’s pledging. They’d study names, mottos, and missions. They were bruised and battered with holey, wooden paddles, tossed around like rag dolls, and caught open-handed slaps and thumping fists to the chest. Aches, bruises and sleepless nights were the norm for a few months. Mark had never cried so much in his life. But Blain and John pulled him through, forcing him into the clutches of the big brothers night after night, with them at his side. Of the ten guys they started with, only four, the trio and Kyle, made it through. But things only got wilder from there.

Especially when they went up to the cabin.

Blain had always had the keys, leading Mark, and everyone else on campus, to believe he had owned it before he officially inherited it. There were many parties and hazing events that took place in that private piece of wilderness. Back then, it offered the typical fraternity guys a chance to live the social dream. They’d party all day, winning praise from their peers and, in some cases, professors.

As they’d gotten older, cabin visits adopted a twist in agenda. It was more about just going fishing and spending time with your closest friends and, in Blain’s case especially, kids. Still, Mark didn’t mind driving up. There was something about the wilderness that relaxed his muscles and banished day to day migraines. He loved the sound of the birds playing around in the tree canopies as his boots crushed the gravel and greenery on his lone hiking ventures. Taking in the view of the surrounding mountain ranges and sucking in the breeze that lingered along Lake Tahoe was refreshing. But mostly, he loved the solidarity.

After Mr. Prazzel’s fatal heart attack, the certified public accounting firm and cabin was left to Blain. This came as no surprise. Mark, Blain, and John interned there every summer during college, as promised. After the massive restructuring, Blain became managing partner, John became partner, and Mark was financial comptroller.

Mark couldn’t be happier with the arrangement. He was comfortable with silently laughing in the background, egging the guys on and tolerating their antics. He was much better at calming John’s explosive temper or covering for Blain when whoever he was dating became curious about his infidelity. They made Mark into the man he was, and he owed them everything, with loyalty being at the top of the list.

“I’m so excited we’re doing this,” Casey said, continuing with her eyeliner.

Mark cringed as he glared at the alpine curvature that played with the horizon, protecting them from the sun. His heart thumped at his chest as the night he’d met her played over in his mind, burning his heart for the fiftieth time.

That night, the frat house was crawling with wannabes and drunken girls. Alternative rock blasted, vibrating the walls, threatening to bring the colonial down on its foundation. Mark turned a beer can up, barreling through it and crushing it on the pale wall. Straightening his back and puffing his chest out, he smiled. The dim living room was crowded. They’d moved the furniture so there was nothing but the waist high stereo and the creaky oak floor. And praise from peers. Lots and lots of praise.

“Ah! Mark, Mark, Mark! We made it!” Blain screamed over the jeers of Kyle and John. His bald head glimmered in the dim lights.

John cuffed Mark’s peach-fuzzed crown, reminding him of what they’d lost for social acceptance. “Mark, we fucking did it!” Teary eyed, he cuffed Mark’s neck and shook him. “We fucking did it!”

“God damn right!” Kyle agreed. Though he had shed about fifty pounds over the last two months, his cheeks still jiggled as much as his gut. His tinted head shone from the laser lights that bounced off table-dancing girls. Mark smirked. Screaming old heads cheered the girls on as they hoped to get lucky while they were back in town. It must’ve taken a lot to convince their wives to let them come back to town to beat the shit out of their new little brothers.

Mark shook himself loose of the huddle. He shuddered. The fresh welts from the beating were raw on his rump. But pride and elation made the bruises a minor hindrance. Feeling the cool beer trickle through him, he said, “I gotta hit the head.”

“Hurry back, dude,” John slurred. “We gotta do more shots and Lilian brought us a cake.”

Mark nodded and squeezed through the crowd and a freshman tripped over his shoe. “Shit, dude! I’m so sorry!” the guy said, his eyes wide and tone shaken.

Mark smiled, clasped the guy’s shoulder and yelled, “Blain, John, Kyle, this asshole scoffed my shoe! What should I do?”

The brothers at once replied, “Upside down kegger!” Girls screamed and laughed as John and Blain pushed through the crowd, took the freshman by his legs and arms, and carried him over to the corner. Mark laughed and headed for the only bathroom, but he was stopped by a line that swallowed the staircase.

Scoffing, he pushed through a group of stumbling girls, making his way to the whining screen door. Outside, he burrowed through smokers. Some were preaching about a government conspiracy and how college was a rip-off. Others were whistling and yelling at a group of girls coming up the walkway. The old Mark would’ve waited for them to the clear the stairs before proceeding. But his knees were starting to shake and his stomach felt tight. So, he pushed forward.

Most of the girls cleared his way, but one grazed his side with her shoulder.

“Oh!” She chuckled while catching her footing, “I’m sorry.”

“God, Casey! Come on. We’re already late,” a blonde whined, before slamming the screen shut.

“You’re fine,” Mark said. He stared, trapped in her sapphire gaze. For a second, he thought he’d pissed himself as his belly loosen and knees seized. His cheeks burned.

“Wait, this is your party, right? Congratulations.” She smiled, flicking her shoulder-length, dark curls, and batting long eyelashes that just barely shielded her glimmering baby blues.

He’d never been so stuck on someone’s beauty and sultry voice. He didn’t want this to pass. He couldn’t let her pass. Of the many girls Blain and John tried setting Mark up with to lose his virginity, this was it. She was it. He wanted to suck her plump lips and kiss the mole on her left cheek. How would Blain handle this? he thought.

“I’m Mark,” he said, wanting to kick himself for having a tremoring throat. He’d just endured the ass whipping of a lifetime. His dark, egg-yolk-stained, sweaty, long sleeved shirt, holey jeans, and raw rump were proof of a job well done. The celebration that went on behind him solidified it, too. But he couldn’t bring himself to be smooth enough to get a girl. Have you learned nothing? He yelled to himself.

Before he could turn around and run off, she said, “I’m Casey. Well, some of the people here call me Marilyn but I resent that.” She giggled. “I’ve seen you around. You’re a tutor, right? And on the dean’s list? You’re pretty smart.” It tickled him inside, making him ache the way he did when Blain made he and John watch lesbian porn. Casey was the first girl to compliment his brains, not his newfound status or his friendship with the guys.

“Thanks.” He cursed himself for lacking the cleverness to woo her back.

“Are you leaving?” she asked.

“Uh, no. I’m going for a walk. This is a little overwhelming,” he said, trying his best to smile through a lie.

“Can I come?”

He winced at her. What? With me? No way this is real, he thought. “Isn’t your friend―”

“She’ll be OK. Honestly, I didn’t want to stay here long. She wanted me to come with her so she wouldn’t feel like a Blain groupie. Whoever that is.” She rolled her eyes.

Mark snickered. Blain had probably fucked half the freshman class by now. “He’s my buddy and brother. This is our party.” She smiled and shrugged. Which was strange. Mark hadn’t met a girl on, or off, campus who resisted Blain’s charm. So, he went on. “Sure, you can come with me,” he said. But his bladder was ready to burst, along with other things. Quickly, he decided to use his perks of belonging to a house now by pushing through to the front of the line to pee. “Do you want me to grab you a drink and meet here in about five minutes?”

“Sure. I’ll go tell Shelly that I’m leaving.”

“OK.” He smiled as his heart thudded.

All the noise around him fell on empty ears. He was deafened by her glow, her sweet perfume, and her smiling eyes. And she wanted to walk with him. She wanted to talk to him. And soon after, he found out she wanted to be with him. And he wanted nothing more than to have her.

Day in and day out, they’d spent every night together. Between classes, they discussed number theory and conspiracies, law, and sports. Casey was an intelligent, outgoing soul, and as charismatic as Blain. Well, she had to be. Being a pre-law then law school graduate granted such an attitude. But most of all, she allowed Mark to be himself. Not the sarcastic frat boy who tortured freshman, but the dorky, shy kid that grew up as a loner.

“Mark?” Casey asked, returning the makeup back to her purse and him back to their current reality.

Though her eyes burned the side of his face, Mark didn’t answer. Instead, he concentrated on the asphalt that disappeared underneath the SUV. Oak trees along the foot of the range provided a persistent evergreen stain in his left peripheral.

Casey’s stare, voice, and presence were too much for him–still. His chest got tight and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Every day for the last couple months, he’d wake on the couch alone with tears in his eyes, rage in heart, and that evening replaying in his mind.

That evening, he’d found her sobbing in their dim bedroom. After comforting her (sort of), she revealed the thing that weighed on her shoulders.

“I slept with Sean,” she blubbered. Time froze and Mark’s heart skipped a few beats as his body went numb. He couldn’t speak or cry. Not even faint. He only stared as she begged for forgiveness through glassy red eyes.

Mark knew Sean from the corporate Christmas parties Casey had been dragging him to for years. They’d talk about professional football before Mark excused himself and disappeared at the open bar. Sean wasn’t a half-bad looking guy either. Taut, tan, with dark hair and eyes. Opposite of Mark’s pale, lanky figure, short, platinum-blond hair, and blue eyes.

Sean. What a fucking douche bag.

Though Casey claimed it happened once, Mark couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that she was lying. She worked with Sean. He was her paralegal for God’s sake.

Since her confession, Casey had been more attentive than ever. The way her eyes shimmered with hope and optimism made Mark grimace. He wasn’t sure if it was her attempt at getting sex from him or if she genuinely felt sorry for what she’d done.

But it didn’t matter. He’d been too repulsed to touch or even look her in the eye. There was no telling what they’d say about him–or worse, her.

“Mark, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.” Her voice became stern.

Instead of replying, he read the jade sign off to the right: Carnelian Bay, California. Their destination.

“Mark?” When he didn’t respond, she slapped her thighs. Huffing, she said, “I thought we agreed we would at least pretend to be in a good place with our marriage while we try this.”

Casey was frowning. He didn’t have to look at her to know.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” He began, cracking a half, cynical smile. “The way I see it, if we are in a good place, we wouldn’t have to come up here for such a disgusting, ugh, thing.”

“People who are in healthy relationships do this. We agreed we were going to at least try it.” She smiled, now rubbing the back of Mark’s neck.

Once again, those lasers peered through his flesh down into his soul, but he bit his tongue, gulping down an insult that would’ve sent her over the edge.

“Look, Mark,” she went on, “I thought we were trying to get past that by doing new things. We both agreed that swinging may help our sex life. I mean you rarely―” She stopped. Casey hated complaints. She only liked solutions; a motto that she preached daily to Mark who, himself, was a realist. “You know what? No. This’ll be fun and you’ll enjoy yourself. Besides, you brought it up to me so. . .”

She was right. One night, a few weeks ago, she’d invited him out to dinner. After four bottles of red, he’d brought it up to her as a joke he shared with Blain and John. Then the swing, spearheaded by Blain, was being planned.

I’m making a two-hour drive into the mountains with you. Obviously, we’re doing this.

“Mark, let’s just stick to our plan–do this for the month and go from there. OK?” She ran her fingertips over his shoulder and down his polo sleeve.

The tautness of her glare made Mark want to flinch. How could something so sexy nauseate him? Finally, he flashed Casey a smile, a weak attempt at being reassuring.

Casey was so sure their perverted misadventures would tame the heap of garbage known as their marriage. He chuckled inside, anticipating it all blowing up in her face.

To keep the peace at home, Mark often pretended to be kind when he couldn’t avoid her or when they weren’t fighting. He did have his moments of doubt, when a piece of him wanted to leave the couch and cuddle in bed. But a bigger piece wanted to be a million miles away from her. He resented his bleeding heart as much as the sleepless nights.

But his buddies were so sure this would work, so sure that this would save him from despair and anger. That things would go back to the way they were, only better. So, he stretched his half-smile full and said, “I know.”

Casey planted her lips on Mark’s cheek, stealing a kiss. The warmth from her aura sent chills up his spine.

Mark slowed to turn left onto a single lane road as they continued up the mountainside. They passed several vacation homes in a variety of styles before approaching a hidden driveway off to the right side of the road.

He pulled into the narrow asphalt driveway that was paved with bull pine, buckwheat, and large shrubs for a mile on either side. Blain’s father was keen on privacy, so it didn’t surprise Mark that he bought a massive piece of mountainside land only for a mile of it to be woodlands and a tar driveway.

There were beds of pink and purple Musk flowers and purple columbine along the last few feet of the driveway, breaking the dreary brown and green foliage that made up the scenery from the road. The end of the asphalt wrapped around the cabin and merged back into itself, leading back to the road. It was a nightmare getting out whenever there were parties going on. But it birthed a love of 4X4 off-road antics for the guys.

The two-story Bavarian chalet sat ahead, nuzzled up against a wall of oak trees that broke around the back, offering a serene view of the crystal blue lake and the mountain range that towered over it in the distance. Thick chunks of gray stone made up the outer walls and each window was hidden under honey wood awnings that matched the door and porch. It looked like it belonged in an eighteenth-century English town.

The pine and oak trees that led the way up the driveway riddled most of the land, making it nearly impossible for the sun’s rays to make their way in to destroy the shade. Only nearly. Shimmering sunlight danced on the brown shingles and wherever it could sneak through. Small animals scurried about, veering in and out of the flower beds, darting back into the dimness of the woods.

At the front of the house, on the dirt yard, sat a black jeep.

“Oh, it looks like Roxie and uh…” Casey snapped her fingers, as if trying desperately to remember who Mark’s best friend was. “Blain,” she blurted, “…are already here.”

Mark flicked his eyes. He hated when she acted petty over Blain. She always complained about how his arrogance made her want to slap the spit out of his mouth. But Mark thought Blain’s pompous attitude was entertaining. Mark tried to get her to see that too. But he gave up when he decided he didn’t care about what she thought about anything anymore.

They climbed the wooden steps and the arched Victorian door flung open. Roxie appeared, wielding a bottle of white wine and a big smile.

Kyla Ross is a horror, thriller, and dark fiction writer from Detroit, Michigan. She posts suspense and horror flash fiction on her blog at kyrobooks.com and is the author of a gruesome, suspenseful short story series titled A Trinity of Wicked Tales and an erotic thriller novel titled When We Swing—An Erotic Thriller. Kyla’s extreme horror novel, Hotel Holly, will be released fall 2017.

Release Tour ~ Acceptance ~ by ~ Trish Beninato

Title: Acceptance

Series: The Jewel Trilogy #1

Author: Trish Beninato

Genre: YA Fantasy Romance

Release Date: August 15, 2017

When destiny and desire collide…

In a community full of supernatural powers, eighteen-year-old Jewel longs for a life of normalcy. But nothing in her life is ordinary. And suddenly she discover she’s more abnormal than she ever realized–complete with a past she never knew existed. Once a goddess from ancient Greece, Jewel is the main reason everyone has their special abilities.

As she struggles with her newfound knowledge, Jewel encounters the mysterious god of Egypt, Anubis. With a past she has no recollection of, she tries to deny the pull she has for the sexy god. But, destiny has other plans. As she uncovers more secrets about who she really is, Jewel is pulled into a dangerous world surrounded by a prophecy–a prophecy that both terrifies and intrigues her. Will Jewel accept who she once was for a chance to become who she’s meant to be?

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Trish Beninato is a young adult fantasy/scifi indie author, who has an unhealthy love for Marvel comics and Star Wars. She is desperately trying to make thirty the new twenty and lives in Colorado with her husband, three children and her adorable rescue pup. She was born in Indiana and raised around the world, spending most of her youth in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. She has a love for traveling and moving to new places thanks to being a child of the military and now spouse to a military soldier. In her spare time she works with young children, paints and hikes around the Rocky Mountains.

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Release Tour & Review ~ Eternally London ~ by ~ Ellie Wade

Title: Eternally London

Series: The Flawed Heart Series #4

Author: Ellie Wade

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Published: July 29, 2017

Forever.

I’ve found mine.

With Loïc.

Our life together is perfect.

Until it’s not.

Darkness invades, and my heart shatters.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

I can’t find such happiness just to lose it.

I want it back.

I just don’t know how.

Forever.

I’ve found mine.

With London.

Our days are full of love and meaning.

I’ve found what I was waiting for my whole life.

And then the light is gone.

Her eyes are vacant, and her soul is weary.

My chest aches because I can’t fix it.

She’s my happily ever after, and I’ll fight every day to show her what that means.

***This is book 4 of 4 in the Flawed Heart Series. Books 1-3 should be read prior.

***This book is intended for readers 18+ due to mature content.

“Eternally London was an unexpected addition to the Flawed Hearts series and it was every bit as memorable as the first three books.” ~Adventures of a Bookworm

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“You are the person I fell in love with.”

“I’m not the same version of her.”

I pull London in tight, kissing her forehead. “I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll love you always. I love every single version of you.”

This was the perfect ending for London and Loïc! I’ve been with London and Loïc since the beginning, from when London was shamelessly flirting with Loïc in her bikini at a car wash. London and Loïc have had their ups and downs, that’s for sure! And while this story wasn’t smooth sailing for them, it was the perfect send off. Although part of me is sad to see this extraordinary couple go about their way.

This story needs to be read after the other books in the Flawed Hearts series! This story, just like the others, takes place after the one preceding it and builds upon the events. So in order for maximum enjoyment, read the whole series, in order, in one sitting.

This is definitely a series/couple I will be coming back to. So much happens in the book and the whole series, that it’s heart-lifting to see what their love can surpass.

5 stars!

Ellie Wade resides in southwest Michigan with her husband, three young children, and two dogs. She has a Master’s degree in education from Eastern Michigan University and is a huge University of Michigan sports fan. She loves the beauty of her home state, especially the lakes and the gorgeous autumn weather. When she is not writing, you will find her reading, snuggled up with her kids, or spending time with family and friends. She loves traveling and exploring new places with her family.

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