A strong-willed intelligent woman meets an equally strong-willed, successful alpha-male. No wonder the sparks are flying from the moment those two meet in “He’s a Brute” by Chloe Liese. If you like it hot, and steamy, but also love a well-crafted suspenseful story, then…
Tag: new books to read
Title: Lily’s Trust
Author: Lilli Carlisle
Series: Black Ridge Wolf Pack
Publication Date: Feb. 6th, 2019
Genre: Urban Fantasy
LOVE AND SACRIFICE
Omegas choose their mates, and Lily had been certain Jensgar would be happy she had chosen him. Instead, the former general of the king’s army refused her, forcing her to the leave the pack she’d adopted. Humiliated and heartbroken, she returns to the Black Ridge Pack, only to find the pitying glances and hushed comments too much to bear. She has no home, and no one to call her own. Convinced she has no other choice, she flees to the forest to live like a wolf. She is shocked when Jensgar, in wolf form, comes for her, and slowly convinces her to trust him again. But the woods hold secrets and danger. When Jensgar’s life is threatened, Lily gives up everything to save the man she loves, and once again puts her chance for happiness in peril.
Lily had been gone only a few hours before the Black Ridge pack began looking for her. After their initial attempts to convince her to return to the pack house, they’d decided on a wait-and-see kind of approach. Little did they know, Lily did not intend to ever return to her human life.
Her paws swiftly carried her over the uneven ground, as she dodged trees, fallen logs and rocks in her way. The wind ran its warm fingers through her fur as the sun guided her. Her trailing party made noise to alert her that they were a couple yards back pacing her, but never coming any closer. Of course, it wasn’t exactly as if Lily had welcomed their visits, growling whenever someone came too close, but they kept coming back. She wondered when they would finally understand there was no life for her to return to Increasing her speed, she tried to lengthen the distance between them, but to no avail. Why would the alpha bother? Sure, send out a warrior or two. But to come himself and bring Marcus, Jensgar’s son, along was disconcerting. Why wouldn’t the pack leave her alone? It wasn’t as if she were a viable omega anymore. True, she still had her gifts, but she wouldn’t be sharing them with anyone.
The lake gleamed and sparkled in the distance calling her forward and leaving her thoughts where they belonged, behind her.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lilli Carlisle will be awarding a copy of Omega’s Choice + Ceva’s Chance to 2 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
About the Author:
Lilli Carlisle lives outside Toronto, Canada. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapter, Toronto Romance Writers. Lilli is a mother of two wonderful girls, wife to an amazing man and servant to the pets in her life. Lilli writes both contemporary and paranormal romance and believes love should be celebrated and shared. After all, everybody needs a little romance, excitement, intrigue and passion in their lives.
Sometimes a girl just needs to dream – and read a steamy set of novellas with handsome billionaires, and strong-willed women. If you are ready for such an awesome time, then I am happy to introduce you to the new anthology Billionaires Club, featuring 5…
Are you a fan of Young Adult Fantasy Novels? Well then, you should check out Cindy Cipriano’s newest novel Searching today! The Author was kind enough to give some details about this book and her series (The Fading Series), so don’t miss out and read…
Heart-pounding and unexpected – that is the best way to describe the first installment of the new Afton Morrison series by Brent Jones – Go Home, Afton might have a mild, unassuming title, but the suspense within the pages is real and intense. Check out this newly released novel on Amazon right now – if you dare!
Today’s giveaway features your chance to win a free ebook copy of this intriguing thriller!
Title: Go Home, Afton
Author: Brent Jones
(Afton Morrison, #1)
Publication date: June 25th 2018
Genres: Adult, Thriller
We all wear masks, and Afton Morrison is no exception.
A small-town librarian with a dark side, Afton, twenty-six, has suppressed violent impulses her entire adult life. Impulses that demand she commit murder.
Blending her urges with reason, Afton stalks a known sexual predator, intending to kill him. But her plan, inspired by true crime and hatched with meticulous care, is interrupted by a mysterious figure from her past. A dangerous man that lurks in the shadows, watching, threatening to turn the huntress into the hunted.
Go Home, Afton is the first of four parts in a new serial thriller by author Brent Jones. Packed with grit and action, The Afton Morrison Series delves into a world of moral ambiguity, delivering audiences an unlikely heroine in the form of a disturbed vigilante murderess.
Release Dates for the rest of the Afton Morrison Series
Parents—stay-at-home moms, mostly—brought in their toddlers once a week so I could read them a story. And I use the word toddlers loosely. Kids as old as six or seven sometimes attended during the summer. And the stories we would read were made up of fewer than fifty words, for the most part. A lot of the mothers in Wakefield were too lazy to read to their own children, I guess.
Oh, and crafts, too. After reading a story together, we’d break out glitter and colored pencils and paste and other nonsense, but that wasn’t the real reason a dozen women turned out with their little monsters each week. Storytime was an excuse for the mothers to gather and gossip. It always took a little while to get the children to settle down, sure. I’d press my finger to my lips and wait. Five or ten seconds at most, although I would have been happy to wait longer. Their mothers, on the other hand, were so much worse. Getting them to shut their fucking traps was a whole separate exercise in endurance.
But as much as I disliked children, there was something magical about them. It was their inability to see gray, I think. Their entire worlds existed in black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. You could see it in their faces as a story unfolded, rife with nervous energy at every inconsequential turn.
“And she just doesn’t know”—I read to the room, pointing to each gigantic word—“should she stay, should she go?”
I caught a boy’s expression, who sat just inches from me. The hippopotamus in our story was faced with a dilemma, and this boy was transfixed. His eyes were wide, his hands were cupped over his mouth, and he was vibrating with anticipation to see what the hippo would do next.
I flipped to the last page. “But yes the hippopotamus.”
The boy relaxed a little, making a deliberate show of letting his shoulders drop. A talented drama queen in the making. He was new to storytime and looked to be about five or six years old. He had dark hair, a tan complexion, and a missing front tooth. He’d attended just once before and he’d sat close that day, as well. I’d never really been big on learning children’s names, to be honest, but I knew his was Neil only because he’d come to the library alone both times. It sounds strange, I’m sure, but having a parent use the library as a free babysitting service happens more often than most people would guess.
I continued on, reading the final words of the story. “But not the armadillo.”
Neil was stressed all over again, and his tiny hand shot up. “Miss Afton?”
“Yes, ah, Neil? What is it, little man?”
“How come not the arma-darma?”
“Armadillo.” A woman in baggy gray sweatpants corrected him from the back of the room. She was a few years older than me, had bleach-blonde hair in a ponytail, and her voice resembled a seagull getting crushed by a car.
I shut the book and set it on my lap. “That’s a good question, Neil.” I bit my lower lip, deciding how much to share. “Well, let’s see. Ah, no one likes armadillos, for starters. They’re bullet-proof, if you can believe it, and ugly as sin. They carry leprosy, too, but they don’t bite children too often.”
The woman at the back of the room—Sweatpants, let’s call her—looked horrified. Her stained teeth chattered and she blinked in rapid succession. She placed her palms over her daughter’s ears, a girl around three or four in age.
Neil scratched his head. “What’s a lepra-she?”
Sweatpants raised her hand to silence me—not that I minded—and looked to a few of the other mothers in the room for support, most of whom were checked out or occupied with their phones. She looked back at me again, then at her daughter. “It’s when good little boys and girls get ice cream.” That wasn’t how I might have defined the word, however. “You want to stop for ice cream on the way home, Jessi?”
It was hard enough getting these little turds to sit still for all fourteen pages of But Not the Hippopotamus. Why on earth would this woman want to stuff her daughter’s face with sugar before lunch? But the girl jumped up and squealed at the mention of sweets, and soon, other kids joined in, as did their mothers.
I peeked down at Neil to see him cradling his head in his hands, masking a look of disappointment by staring at the floor. It appeared he had forgotten all about armadillos and leprosy and storytime, and now sulked, wishing he had a parent present to take him for ice cream like the other children.
The mothers talked amongst themselves, and their toddlers fed on the elevated energy levels. The room was alive with discourse, and I wondered if the local Dairy Queen might consider paying me a small commission. “Well, that’s it for storytime, boys and girls. Thanks for coming.”
Sweatpants spoke up at the back of the room, the self-elected leader of Wakefield’s fattest and frumpiest. “But it’s only quarter past, Afton. Isn’t storytime supposed to be a full hour?”
“Just figured you were all on your way to get a double-scoop of leprosy.”
I raised my hands in a gesture of mock uncertainty. “We’ve got crafts we can do.” I pointed to three short tables covered in plastic, adorned with supplies that Kim had set up for us. “Should we get to it?”
“That won’t take long. Couldn’t you read them another story first?”
Couldn’t I read them another story? It’d been her idea to squeeze out one of these little nightmares. Why was I being punished for it? “Not this week, I’m afraid. Sorry.”
But she just wouldn’t give up. “Afton, do you know where Jessi’s daddy is right now?”
My first thought was that her husband was probably fucking her sister at some roadside motel with hourly rates, bed bugs, and a one-star rating on Trip Advisor. I couldn’t say that out loud, of course, and so I fought like hell to keep a smirk off my face. It helped to keep my sights trained on Jessi, who had sat back down, cross-legged in a checkered dress. She was drawing on the floor with one small finger.
Sweatpants answered her own question. “He’s at work, Afton. And he works hard, by the way, and we pay more than our share of taxes in this town. Taxes that pay your salary.”
Oh, the salary card. How I loved it when disgruntled parents brought up my salary, as if any one of them wanted to trade places with me. Yes, her taxes paid me a small fortune. That’s why I rented a one-bedroom apartment in a triplex. And it’s the same reason I drove a seven-year-old Corolla. I was so grateful—indebted, even—to Sweatpants and her husband that I just couldn’t wait to read another story.
“Sure thing.” I grabbed a second book off the pile next to me. “One more story, coming right up.”
Sweatpants smiled. It was a flat, fake smile, of course, the kind where the mouth curls tight but the eyes are dormant. It was about the best I could have hoped for, and it seemed to have a calming effect on the other mothers. They quieted down, eager to return to their various text message conversations.
I pointed my finger to more jumbo text on a colorful page. A story about an overweight and diabetic caterpillar with impulse control issues, who was always so very very fucking hungry. “In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf . . .”
And I couldn’t help but lose myself in thought. I was that little egg on a leaf, glimmering in the moonlight, and about to hatch. Soon after, the morning would come. And my hunger would be satiated at last, because Kenneth Pritchard would be dead.
From bad checks to bathroom graffiti, Brent Jones has always been drawn to writing. He won a national creative writing competition at the age of fourteen, although he can’t recall what the story was about. Seventeen years later, he gave up his career to pursue creative writing full-time.
Jones writes from his home in Fort Erie, Canada. He’s happily married a bearded cyclist, a mediocre guitarist, and the proud owner of two dogs with a God complex.
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It’s cold outside, so let’s read something hot! Introducing Bad Wolf by Jo Raven!
Title: Bad Wolf
Author: Jo Raven
Publication date: February 8th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance
This is no fairytale…
Once I fell in love with a gorgeous boy next door.
Years later, he’s back—a total hunk, hot as hell, and bad. So bad.
Rude. Cocky. Hard.
And I’m dying for a taste.
Jarett was our neighbors’ adopted son.
Handsome, strong, quiet, he was my protector, and my friend.
Now he’s back, and he’s still gorgeous.
Tall, dark and sexy. All man.
But he’s a bad guy, moving with a dangerous crowd.
So why do I keep winding up in his arms?
On his lap. In his bed.
I know better than this—I’m better than this. I should stop.
Only my heart tells me there’s good inside Jarett.
That I could save him.
Then again, what happens to gullible girls who climb into bed with the big bad wolf?
Gigi is standing at the open door, the loud rock music spilling out into the alley. She looks left, then right, as if searching for someone. No great leap of the imagination required to know she’s looking for her friend.
And she sees me. Her gaze stops on me.
She steps all the way out and lets the door close behind her. “Rett?”
Fuck. This is fucking bad. I suck on my cigarette and wait. Maybe she’ll take the hint and go away.
But Gigi never cared what I said or did, back then. She stuck by my side through my silences and snarky comments.
Obviously she hasn’t changed.
She heads straight to me, plants herself in front of me and shakes back her white-blond hair. “Rett. What now, you’ll pretend you can’t see me?”
Damn, how could I ever pretend that? She’s wearing a low-cut red sweater over a tiny skirt and those damn knee-length socks that drive me crazy. Girl likes wearing red. And damn if I can tear my eyes away from her cleavage.
I’m so fucking hard I’m about to bust a nut.
“What do you want?” I mutter, flicking ash from my cigarette, a thoughtless gesture, when it becomes clear she isn’t budging.
“Did you see Sydney out here? I’ve lost her again.”
She smells of something sweet, like toffee. My mouth waters. My dick throbs. She smells like home, and like pleasure, and like danger all at once.
“Go away, Gigi,” I whisper. “Go back inside. That’s where your friend is.”
“So you saw her.”
Throwing my cigarette away, I take a step toward her. “Go now.” She’s wearing down all of my self-control. I have to send her back inside, send her away from me. Having her around is risky on a thousand different levels.
She takes a step back. “Not unless you tell me what you saw. Did she buy drugs? Tell me, Jarett.”
“And what will you do if I tell you?” I back her into the club’s fire escape ladder. “What the fuck can you do about it?”
“Not me. She won’t listen to me, or talk to me about this. But you could help me.”
I blink, not sure I heard her well. I’m looking down into her pretty eyes, at her full, red mouth, and shake my head. “What did you say?”
“For old times’ sake, Rett… I need your help.”
Hi! My name is Jo, and I torture pretty boys for a living… 🙂
I am a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, best known for my series Inked Brotherhood and Damage Control. I write edgy New Adult romance with sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines.
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Book Details: Title: The Sheikh’s Unruly Lover Author: Leslie North Series: The Sharjah Sheikhs Book Two Publisher: Relay Publication Publication Date: September 18th, 2017 Genre: Romance, Multi-cultural romance Heat Level 4 out of 5 – graphic details, but not erotica My thoughts: I want…