Book Title: Prince Charming Author: S. Celi Genre: Mature Young Adult/New Adult Release Date: January 28, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
School. Tests. Scholarships. Goals. Senior class overachiever Geoff Miller thought he had it all figured out. All he needed to do was make it through the next six months, graduate, and get on with his life. College at the University of Virginia beckoned him-- and he just wanted to put the last horrible four years at Heritage High School in the "done" folder. Geoff just didn't count on two things: Laine Phillips, and sex. At first, his passing crush on the school princess seemed to Geoff like a distraction from a boring life in a snobby Greater Cincinnati suburb. Then one day, it turned into something more... Six months. Not that long, right? “Sure.” She bit her cherry-red lip, and watching her do it almost made me fall out of the chair. Still, she made no move to take a seat. “I wasn’t going to come over and talk to you—but, well, I just wanted to say that—well,” she broke off. “Never mind.” “Seriously, do you want to sit down?” I asked again. “Yeah.” She looked over her shoulder. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.” As I hurried to move my school stuff out of the way, she slid into the metal chair and tossed her own book bag on the floor. Then I just stared at her, because I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t figure out why she’d sat down next to me. It just didn’t make much sense. The library had plenty of open tables, and even more computer desks. Hell, she could have had a whole section to herself if she wanted it. So why me? Why me? WHY ME? “Have you started the paper?” I asked when the awkwardness became too much for me to bear. She nodded. “Yeah, last week. I’m about three quarters of the way done with the outline.” “Really?” “Yeah. I like English literature a lot, especially that time period.” I sat back, surprised. No one liked Langston’s class. No one. Right? And she didn’t seem like the English type, since she never talked much in that class. I had assumed she got in just because of who she was in school and the magic spell she seemed to have over everyone—even the teachers. “So, you’re telling me you like AP English?” She gave me a blank look, as if I shouldn’t be surprised about this. “Well, that’s awesome. I can’t get into it. At least, not that stuff we’re learning right now.” “It’s not that bad, Geoff. Some of it is kinda romantic.” She disappeared underneath the table and came back a few seconds later with a thick green binder, a blue pen, and her own iPad. She opened up the binder and pulled the iPad out of the case as a small smirk danced on her face. “Wait. Are you going to study here?” I paused. “With me?” “Sure I am. This is a library.” Laine winked. “You do know how these work, right?” “But I mean—” “And you look so—I don’t know—lonely sitting here all alone.” “So you just thought you’d plop down and study with me?” “What? Don’t you want me to?” She tilted her head and frowned, as if she didn’t understand why I’d asked the question. “That’s what people do in a library. They study. Sometimes together. Of course, I could always go study with one of the freshmen.” But even as she said this, she made no move to get up from the table we shared. Meanwhile, all the attention in the room had turned to her. Everyone in the library stared, transfixed. She was like that ring from The Lord of the Rings. My precious. Good fucking grief. Of course I would make that kind of lame analogy. New Orleans born Sara Celi has lived all over the United States. She calls the Greater Cincinnati area and the Queen City home. She has spent more than a decade working in journalism and broadcasting, with jobs both on-air and off-air at TV stations in Louisiana, Ohio, and Oklahoma. Her work has appeared in numerous online publications, magazines and newspapers, and she is a contributing author to Chicken Soup For The Soul: The Power of Positive. Sara graduated cum laude from Western Kentucky University in 2004. In her spare time, she likes to read, shop, write, travel, run long distances, volunteer with the Junior League, and fund raise for Cooperative for Education, a non-profit providing educational opportunities for Guatemalan kids. a Rafflecopter giveaway COVER REVEAL HTML Indulging Irelyn Shelf it on GOODREADS NFL quarterback, Zolt Hamil was America’s heartthrob until a career ending injury changed his life. Years later, he’s picked up the pieces and carved out a new path for himself. But the mental and physical scars of that day have left him moody and reclusive, and his only relief is indulging in pleasure and pain with his many one night stands. Though many of women have tried, Zolt refuses to care about any of them. Only one woman has his heart; a hallucination of a young, sable-eyed, blonde beauty whom he conjured that painful day on the football field. On the first day at his new job at a law firm in Scottsdale, Arizona, Zolt comes face to face with his hallucination, Irelyn Wilkes. Their fateful connection, and explosive passion for each other pulls them together, and this time, Zolt refuses to let her slip from his life. But Irelyn has her own demons to fight, and her controlling boyfriend is one of them. He doesn't take kindly to other people playing with his toys, and he’ll stop at nothing to keep her by his side. Can Irelyn and Zolt defy the odds and find a way to be together? Or, will the events set in motion years ago keep them apart forever? New Adult. Recommended for eighteen and above due to adult content, language, and sexual situations. Dawna Raver didn't always want to be a writer, but the voices in her head keep sending her stories, ranging from new adult, romantic fantasy and contemporary romance. When she's not spending time in her fantasy world, Dawna loves football, reading, and pretending she's a top chef in the kitchen. Oh, and fawning over her dogs and husband, sometimes in that order. Never Been Ready Book Blurb Leah Morgan was done with men. After barely surviving a horrendous childhood, and a boyfriend who bailed when things got rough, Leah had given up on love. Then she met him, Hollywood’s new golden boy who suddenly had eyes only for her. She tried to convince herself that one night couldn’t hurt, but after six months, the memories of his mesmerizing gaze and searing touch still invaded her every thought. Declan James had just one rule when it came to women. Keep it simple, and never linger. That all changed the moment he met Leah. Even across a crowded bar, he could tell she was different. Sweet, with just the right amount of sass, she made him break his golden rule and now he couldn’t walk away. When casual becomes anything but, and emotions run deep, will Leah and Declan fight their fears, or let old insecurities tear them apart? When Declan’s past comes roaring back in a way neither of them could have expected, will they stand united or be torn apart by the challenges that lie ahead? It was only supposed to be one night, but only forever will do. Teaser "So, when exactly do I get my striptease?" I asked. "Well, that's up to you, Hotshot." "Hotshot?" "Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition, and sexy as fuck--it's a good nickname." "All right, so what are your terms, Leah?" I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself from just saying, Fuck it, and pinning her against the wall before she could lay down any terms or requirements. Because whatever she was about to say, I was going to agree. She didn't know it, but she had my balls in her perfect little hands, and I was at her fucking mercy. I both hated and wanted her at the same time. She made me feel out of control and weak with need. I couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk away. "I will not be an easy fuck whenever you get too lazy to find a new bimbo for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed, wondering where you've been and what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting," she declared. Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to hear. "I want to be exclusive with you--for however long we decide to do this. I don't care about labels or dates. You don't have to take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The only thing I ask is that, for the time we are together, you are mine." "Yes," I answered immediately, surprising us both. "Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out or temper tantrum, Declan?" "No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one request." I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers, and I heard her breath falter. "And what's that, Hotshot?" "Make it two," I amended. "First, the same rules apply to you. While we're together, for however long, you're mine, Leah," I purred against her ear. Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged, giving me a quick sense of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and collected exterior. "And second?" she asked timidly. "Don't fucking call me Hotshot." She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before saying, "So not happening, Hotshot." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55-xeRZkmL8 Author Bio
J.L. Berg is a California native living in the South. She’s married to her high school sweetheart and they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she’s not writing, you will most likely find her curled up with her iPad reading, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. Book Title: End of the Innocence Author: Alessandra Torre Genre: Erotic Romance Release Date: March 25, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions He thought I owned him. He thought he loved me, that I was enough. But this animal, this sex god who could drive me crazy and steal my heart in the same breath, he would never be fully mine. It was impossible. No one ever owns a God. When it all comes down to it, there’s only one thing to get a man like Brad for his birthday. A man that has everything, can buy anything, and wants for nothing. Either a) something he has been deprived of, or b) something he could never have too much of. I doubt Brad has been deprived of much of anything his entire life. Love. He hasn’t had enough love. It is something I see at odd times, times when he cradles my face in his hand and a flicker of worry goes through his eyes. He, at those moments, reveals how terrified he is of losing me. I don’t know how to package love, how to giftwrap that emotion and hand it to Brad. I tell him often, as often as I can. But I know that the more in love he falls, the more afraid he is that I will leave. That I will turn into his mother and choose another reality over this one. I have committed to him. That should be enough of a reassurance. Hmm… So b) something he could never have too much of. Sex. Brad has always been in control of our sexual adventures. It is part of the turn-on for me, the willing handover of my body, unknowing of what he has in store for it. But I wanted something more for his birthday, something other than me, naked and willing, waiting for his command. My mind flickered back to deprivement. He has been deprived of something, for eight months now. Another woman. We had ventured into the water, spending one hot night with a blonde, Brad bringing her hours of pleasure without actually fucking her. He had to miss it, had to miss the domination of another woman with his cock, seeing the look in her eyes when he thrust it in, the shock and incredulity as it turned from too much to too perfect. It was time. Since that night, I had waffled and wishy-washied my way back and forth over the line of indecision until my head spun like a drunk coed. But the thought always made me hot, always pushed me over the edge when Brad’s head was between my legs or he was buried deep in me. The pleasure he gave me, the incredible heights and depths he brought me to, were too incredible for me not to share – it seemed unfair for me to keep this wealth of sexual knowledge contained solely for my pleasure. When I was with Brad and the Russian - I had loved every minute of the experience, as limited as it was. But to see him inside a woman, to see his thrusts and her moans, his hands gripping her skin, his mouth on hers – the thought was almost too intense to process. During sex, I would get snapshot images, entering uninvited, into my mind, and my back would involuntarily arch, my orgasm no longer containable, and my world would turn black in a moment of exquisite perfection. How would I react in that actual situation? When he spread her legs, touched her body? When I saw that look on his face, the look of lust and ownership, the same look that sent me over the edge, the look I strove for, fucked for, and did anything and everything to provoke? How would I take it, and what if he needed more of it? Would I really be giving him a birthday present? Or was this just one, big, sex-filled test of our relationship? Alessandra Torre is a new author who focuses on contemporary erotica. Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, was published in July 2012, and was an Erotica #1 Bestseller for two weeks. The sequel to Blindfolded, Masked Innocence, will be released in February 2014. Alessandra lives in the Southern United States and is married, with one young child. She enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and playing with her dogs. Her favorite authors include Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn, and Jennifer Crusie. Learn more about Alessandra on her website at www.alessandratorre.com, or you can find her on Twitter (@ReadAlessandra) or her Facebook fanpage. a Rafflecopter giveaway |