Friday, 31 July 2015

Book Blitz:THE SIREN'S TOUCH by Amber Belldene


The Siren's Touch
by Amber Belldene
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington/Lyrical
Release Date: July 21, 2015



One touch can change everything…

Hitman Dmitri Lisko is determined to avenge his father. Once he takes out the man he believes is responsible for his family’s tragedies, he’s done killing for good. But a mysterious woman may tempt Dmitri to change his plan.

Sonya Truss was murdered in a Ukrainian village in 1968. Now she’s reappeared in San Francisco as a rusalka—the ghost of a wronged woman. And she’s thirsty for the blood of her killer. But she has to make things right before she’s trapped between worlds forever.

Sonya's enigmatic siren powers stir Dmitri's long-buried chivalry, and he finds himself compelled to help her. He also can’t resist giving her a taste of the pleasures she never experienced while she was alive. Soon they discover that touch has surprising consequences. Yet when their shared mission comes to cross-purposes, they must choose between deadly sacrifice—or surrendering to the one act that can save them both.



The teapot jostled like there was a frog inside.

He had to be hallucinating. Holy hell, he’d never been this hungover. Then again, he’d never been on a thirty-day bender either. Quitting cold turkey after a vodka-soaked month was bound to be rough on the system. The teapot was definitely not jittering, only his sanity. Caffeine might help.

He lifted the little round thing by the handle. A gust of steam poured out as deep-brown liquid trickled from its spout into his mug—an antique glass cup wrapped in silver filigree. In his hand, the teapot shook, jostling his arm.

Damn it. That was no hallucination.

A sudden puff of steam collided with his face. He set the teapot down and wiped his moist eyes. When he opened them again, he was certain he’d lost his mind.

Hovering over Elena’s postcard-perfect traditional Ukrainian table setting was a shimmering tea-colored woman. No, not a woman.

He reached for his weapon, knocking his chair to the floor. Scrambling across the room, he got as far as he could get from that...thing.

Back pressed to the wall, his heart drummed against his sternum. What the hell was she?

She dripped brown droplets of smoky Russian Caravan onto the table and gasped for air with her gossamer hands clasped at her neck. Her brown eyes stretched wide in her heart-shaped face.

Had he completely lost his mind? “Fuck.”

The thing yelped, flying away and leaving a sprinkling of tea droplets in her wake. As they fell to the ground, she grew whiter, becoming the soft, shiny color of a perfect pearl.

A ghost. Holy hell.

All his skin rose up in goose bumps. Could you shoot a ghost? Or a hallucination? He was damn sure going to try. He took aim.

She coughed and coughed and coughed some more, making a horrible wet retching sound. Then she darted to a spot near the window, bending her spectral shape over to hack, as if she could clear her throat. Only it didn’t seem to be working.

Without thinking, he lowered his weapon. “Breathe, girl. Be calm.”

Slowly, she straightened, and her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of breath. The sun shone through her translucent form, highlighting a smoking hot set of curves under a long, wet nightgown. Large brown nipples poked through the ghostly, damp fabric, and a dark vee between her legs drew his gaze.

Hell.

This wet dream of a sexy, drowned ghost was proof he’d jumped into the deep end.






Amber Belldene is always reading racy books at the most inappropriate times, and has been observed ogling her Kindle in the church parking lot. Even as a kid, she hid novels inside the service bulletin to read during sermons, an irony that is not lost on her when she preaches these days. Amber is a romance writer and Episcopal priest who believes sexuality is vital to spirituality, love is beautifully messy, and stories are the best way to explore human truths. Evidence of these convictions can be found in Amber's steamy paranormals and quirky, hot contemporaries, which have been published by Omnific, Entangled, and Lyrical/Kensington. She lives with her husband and two children in San Francisco and can be found at amberbelldene.com.







RELEASE BOOST The Truth of Tristan Lyons by L.B. Dunbar




Title: The Truth of Tristan Lyons
Series: Legendary Rock Stars #4
Author: L.B. Dunbar
Genre: Rock Star Romance
 Release Date: July 27, 2015



Blurb

Heartbreaker.

I understand why I have the nickname. Hey, what can I say? I like women. All women. It doesn’t matter what shape, size, or color. I’m even into sharing. I’ve done it all, seen it all, but I’m at an all-time low. Who wouldn’t be? My best friend is missing. My uncle’s an asshole. I don’t know who I am without The Nights. We are a band of brothers, soldiering through the world with our music. Only, our faithful leader is gone, and everyone else in the band is falling for the oldest trap: love. Love is a lie. It is painful. It is hurtful.

I need a break. I want to be alone. I'm not prepared to share the exclusive home on the Island. I'm not prepared for her. I don’t know who she is or why she's here. She tells me to call her Ireland. I tell her my first name only. Originally, I don’t want to believe she doesn’t recognize me. Bass guitarist for The Nights, come on? After a while we both play the game. Secrets are another form of lies, aren't they?

Our fantasy will crash to reality too soon. Secrets catch up to you. The truth has to be told. It confirms what I already know: love is a lie.

Until her.







Links to Buy

AMAZON US / UK







Also Available


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AMAZON US / UK








Excerpt

The Truth of Tristan Lyons excerpt © L.B. Dunbar

I wanted to know who she was. Scratch that, I didn’t care who she was. I wanted to know how she got in the house. Damn these fangirls, sometimes.  They knew no shame. 
“Hey,” I said grabbing her upper arm. “How did you get in here?”
She seemed caught unaware of my approach and screamed loudly, pushing at my chest hard enough, the sheer surprise forced me to let go of her.
With her hand on her chest and her breasts rising and falling in great agitation, I was able to see her big blue eyes and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Her chin length blonde hair fell forward as she bent to clasp her knees and catch her breath.
Standing up almost as quickly as she bent over, she spoke to me through delicious looking pink lips.
“Who the fuck are you?” she growled.
“Who the fuck, are you?” I returned.
“I’m…”
“You know what, never mind. You need to go,” I said, cutting her off and reaching for her upper arm again. “I don’t know how you got in here, where you came from, or how you found me, but you need to go.”
I began to tug her toward the front entry, her feet sliding in her flip-flops across the tile flooring. She pulled back, and the force made her skid on an angle across the slippery surface as I dragged her. She continued to glare at me quizzically, leaning away from me.
“I don’t know what you are talking about?”
“Did you follow me, is that it? See me in the airport?”
“What?”
“Okay, I love you too, now you need to go. Okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am?”
“I don’t.”
I stopped, still holding firmly to her arm. Something in her voice sounded like she was being serious.
“I’m Tristan.”
She blinked, confusion clearly on her face. I was thoughtful for a moment. It was the innocence in her blue eyes, and the fact she looked like she might cry. Something wasn’t right with this scenario.
“Trist – an,” I said slowly, as if she had some type of hearing impairment.
“Who?”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Country,” she answered so quickly, she didn’t even blink an eye or stop for thought. On top of that, she said it in such a way that showed she was thoroughly confused, and almost disgusted with me, for even asking such a ridiculous question. She wrinkled her nose.
“Look, I know the owner, and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know the owner,” I repeated, “and you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said, pulling at her own arm again and sticking out a hand to press against my chest as leverage. I had tugged my shirt off at some point while I was passed out, and her warm hand felt good on my air-conditioned cool skin. Her hand was tiny, I noticed. All of her was thin.
“I’m supposed to be here. Alone,” I emphasized again.
She didn’t respond, so I added, “I think I’ll just call the owner myself, to see where the mix up is.”
“No,” she blurted, stopping in her physical struggle against me. Her eyes opened even wider, if that was possible, and her face was suddenly full of something I couldn’t read. Her blue eyes brightened in a frightening sort of way. Was that fear? Good, she should be afraid.
“Please. I swear. I’m allowed to be here. You don’t need to call Isa.” 
She had me. I didn’t really know who Isa was, and the girl sounded confident enough that I let her call my bluff.
“If there is a mistake, and you were scheduled to stay as well, I won’t complain. As a matter of fact, I won’t even be in your way. You won’t even know I’m here. I plan to keep to myself.”  Her eyes were glassy, and again I worried she was about to cry.
I released her arm and she pulled it back quickly. She fisted the hand of that arm, holding it against her chest. She began rubbing her upper arm with the opposite hand. I noticed again that she was thin, as were her breasts. I didn’t care for small chested girls. I didn’t care for her.
“Well, I’m Tristan, whom you claim to not know, and you are?”
“I’m…Ireland.”
“Ireland what?”
“Just…Ireland.”
I shook my head.
“So this is how we’re going to play it? Fine, my Irish Isle. What are you doing in the Caymans?”
She looked at me for a moment, then leaned toward me and sniffed. She held the disgusted expression on her face and wrinkled her nose as she pulled back.
“Probably the same thing as you.”
“Drinking myself into oblivion?” I laughed, crossing my arms over my bare chest defensively.
“Hiding,” she replied.







Author Bio


L.B. Dunbar loves to read to the point it might be classified as an addiction. The past few years especially she has relished the many fabulous YA authors, the new genre of New Adult, traditional romances, and historical romances. A romantic at heart, she’s been accused of having an overactive imagination, as if that was a bad thing. Author of the Sensations Collection, Sound Advice, Taste Test, Fragrance Free, Touch Screen, and Sight Words, she is also author of the Legendary Rock Star series, beginning with The Legend of Arturo King. She grew up in Michigan, but has lived in Chicago for longer, calling it home with her husband and four children.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I’d like to say I was always a writer. I’d also like to say that I wrote every day of my life since a child. That I took the teaching advice I give my former students because writing every day improves your writing. I’d like to say I have my ten-thousand hours that makes me a proficient writer. But I can’t say any of those things. I did dream of writing the “Great American Novel” until one day a friend said: Why does it have to be great? Why can’t it just be good and tell a story?

As a teenager, I wrote your typical love-angst poetry that did occasionally win me an award and honor me with addressing my senior high school class at our Baccalaureate Mass. I didn’t keep a journal because I was too afraid my mom would find it in the mattress where I kept my copy of Judy Blume’s Forever that I wasn’t allowed to read as a twelve year old.

I can say that books have been my life. I’m a reader. I loved to read the day I discovered “The Three Bears” as a first grader, and ever since then, the written word has been my friend. Books were an escape for me. An adventure to the unknown. A love affair I’d never know. I could be lost for hours in a book.

So why writing now? I had a story to tell. It haunted me from the moment I decided if I just wrote it down it would go away. But it didn’t. Three years after writing the first draft, a sign (yes, I believe in them) told me to fix up that draft and work the process to have it published. That’s what I did. But one story let to another, and another, and another. Then a new idea came into my head and a new storyline was created.

I was accused (that’s the correct word) of having an overactive imagination as a child, as if that was a bad thing. I’ve also been accused of having the personality of a Jack Russell terrier, full of energy, unable to relax, and always one step ahead. What can I say other than I have stories to tell and I think you’ll like them. If you don’t, that’s okay. We all have our book boyfriends. We all have our favorites. Whatever you do, though, take time for yourself and read a book.
 

L.B. Dunbar






Author Links

SALE BLITZ Gloria’s Secret: The Trilogy by Nelle L’Amour




Title: Gloria's Secret: The Trilogy
Series: Gloria's Secret #1-3
Author: Nelle L'Amour
Genre: Erotic Romance
 Release Date: April 19, 2015



Blurb

The New York Times bestselling series from the author of THAT MAN! Over 700 pages of steamy romance!

Gloria Long is the beautiful, self-made CEO of Gloria's Secret, the world's largest retailer of lingerie. While her global emporium is famed for selling erotic fantasies, Gloria's emotional scars inhibit her own sexual desires. Her powerful defenses melt when she meets Jaime Zander, the devastatingly gorgeous advertising guru, who is determined to win not only her account but also her heart by awakening her sexuality—in the boardroom and the bedroom.

A man who has never heard the word "no," Jaime takes his creativity to the limit to make Gloria fall apart and fall for him. But major obstacles stand in the way—Gloria's Secret's ruthless Chairman, who covets Gloria and is out to destroy Jaime, as well as his manipulative sexpot daughter, who wants both Gloria's job and her hot, new love. Complicating matters further, Gloria harbors a dark, horrific secret, that when exposed, will shatter both her empire and her life. Will she be able to have it all or will the walls come tumbling down?






Links to Buy

AMAZON US / UK
NOOK US / UK
iBOOKS US / UK






Excerpt

I jolted. Under the table, I felt something slide under my dress and snake up my thigh-high silk stocking past my garters to my middle. Holy fuck! It was his bare foot, and it was running circles over my mound.

“Ah, Gloria, your pussy feels so hot and wet beneath those lace panties of yours.” He paused. “They are powder blue, right?” he asked with a roguish grin.

“Yes,” I gasped. His foot was now rubbing hard against my clit. I was getting more feverish by the second as he pushed me toward the edge. My fingers clutched the corners of the white-linen covered table.

“I think you should stop,” I said between clenched teeth.

“There’s a difference between I think and I want. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes,” I said breathily.

“Your mouth says ‘yes,’ but your pussy screams ‘no.’”

Oh, God! This man got me. He continued massaging, adding vertical strokes up and down my soaking wet cleft. The pleasure and pressure were so intense I thought I would yelp. I dug my fingernails into the table and chewed my lip, trying hard not to scream. Jesus, how would I look if I broke loose?

Jaime shot me a cocky, confident smile. I wanted to rip it off his face with my teeth.

“Gloria, you want to lose control. Do it!” he commanded as he jabbed his big toe into my pussy.

I exploded. Ripples of ecstasy swept through me. It took all my willpower not to scream out. “Oh, God!” I moaned under my breath.

His satisfied eyes bore into me. “Now, it’s time to move onto the steamy artichoke, another natural aphrodisiac.”

Barely recovered from my mind-blowing orgasm, I eyed the thistle-leafed delicacy sitting in the middle of the table and jolted again. Beneath the table, a hand clutched my calf. Fuck! My turn to play footsy? My already rapid heartbeat accelerated as he maneuvered off my silver sandal and placed my foot on the mound between his legs. His steamy delicacy. The warmth of his swell beneath my sole intensified the throbbing between my inner thighs.

He began rubbing my foot up and down his arousal. I could feel it harden and swell beneath my arch. He hissed. There was nothing I could do with him holding my foot prisoner but wait anxiously for him to come.

And then the movements below ceased. My foot rested on his erection. The sole of my foot was burning.

His glimmering eyes burned a hole in mine. “I’m not going to force you make me come. That would be too much for me here. Too embarrassing. I just want to remind you what you do to me, my beautiful angel.”

Oh my God. He called me “angel.” His beautiful angel. My heart was melting like the candle on the table. How could one man, one word, do this to me?

Still holding my foot on his length, he peeled off an outer leaf of the large artichoke with his spare hand and dipped the tender edge into the side of melted butter. He raised the leaf, dripping with butter, to my lips. My breath hitched.

“Suck!” he ordered.

I clenched my teeth around the soft buttery artichoke meat and sucked it off the leaf. He discarded the remains onto his plate. With his index finger, he gently wiped off the little bit of butter that had fallen onto my lower lip. He inserted his butter-coated finger into his mouth and moaned.

“Now, you feed me a buttery leaf.”

I peeled off a large outer leaf and repeated his action.

“Mmmm. Perfection,” purred Jaime, rolling his tongue over his lush upper lip.

We continued this back and forth consumption of the artichoke until we were down to the heart.

“The heart is the very best part,” he proclaimed, his eyes now hooded.

I simply nodded, my foot still resting upon his hard, hot cock. I was in a trance. My head was spinning, and my blood was looping through my body like a rollercoaster. Hold on, Gloria

“Did you know that a woman’s heart is her real G-spot? You hit that and everything comes apart.”

Trembling, I watched as he stabbed his fork into the fuzzy artichoke center.

“Gloria, I want to win your account. Your cunt. And your heart.”

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t say a word even if I knew what to say.

“And I’m going to win each. One by one, starting with your account.”

I impulsively withdrew my foot from his erection. Business. It was time to talk business. That’s what this dinner was all about. I reinforced myself with a deep breath.

“Mr. Zander, if you are planning on doing business with me—that is, if you indeed have the good fortune of winning the Gloria’s Secret account—then I suggest we keep our relationship purely professional.”

He burst into laughter, totally unnerving me once again.

“Come on, Gloria. Can you can seriously sit here and say you don’t want me?”

I was speechless. Flushed and speechless.

“Doesn’t the thought of your pussy submitting to me anywhere make you wet with want?”

Steeling myself, I said, “Go to hell, you arrogant egotistical asshole.”

He laughed even harder and then looked straight into my eyes.

“Gloria, I’ve wanted you from the moment I set on eyes on you.”

“I’m not your type.”
He snorted. “You’re right. I usually prefer brunettes and like my women to be petite and totally submissive. But that’s why you intrigue me, Ms. Long. I never have to pursue woman; they pursue me. You’re a challenge. On the outside, you wear armor; underneath you wear lace. Your outerwear says don’t touch; your underwear says touch me everywhere. You may be a powerful woman, but the challenge is to unleash the power inside you.








Author Bio


Nelle L'Amour is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she's Hollywood royalty. She writes juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.

In addition to the Gloria’s Secret Trilogy, she is the author of the bestselling THAT MAN series, the Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire boxed set, and the highly rated Amazon bestseller, Undying Love. Unforgettable, her latest series, will be published in Fall 2015.

Nelle loves to hear from her readers. Connect to her at:


Author Links