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Stories and Swag!

Wednesday, August 20, 2014


With the release of On the Record in a few short days, Kyla would like to share the cover for the final book in The Record Series - FOR THE RECORD, scheduled for release on November 18, 2014. Isn't it gorgeous?! Who's excited about this series - we want to hear from you! Blurb to come after the release of On the Record so stay tuned for more to come!!!

for the record



USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde has written the Avoiding series and the Record series as well as the new adult novels Following Me and Take Me for Granted. She grew up as a military brat traveling the United States and Australia. While studying political science and philosophy at the University of Georgia, she founded the Georgia Dance Team, which she still coaches. Post-graduation, she served as the campus campaign director for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. lives in Athens, Georgia, with her fiancé and two puppies, Riker and Lucy.

Book 1 - Off the Record
Book 2 - On the Record
Pre-Order Book 3 - For the Record

Cover Creds should be given to Regina Wamba at Mae I Design
Tuesday, August 19, 2014


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Debt Inheritance (Book One) Indebted Series

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Join the Thunderclap campaign here:

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“I own you. I have the piece of paper to prove it. It’s undeniable and unbreakable. You belong to me until you’ve paid off your debts.”
Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Being the first born daughter, her life is forfeit to the first born son of the Hawks to pay for sins of ancestors past. The dark ages might have come and gone, but debts never leave. She has no choice in the matter.
She is no longer free.

Jethro Hawk receives Nila as an inheritance present on his twenty-ninth birthday. Her life is his until she’s paid off a debt that’s centuries old. He can do what he likes with her—nothing is out of bounds—she has to obey.
There are no rules. Only payments.
A modern day Dark Erotic Romance

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Excerpt: Debt Inheritance:  Meet Jethro & Nila

ONE - Nina's POV

Huge disappointment, Ms. Weaver.” His cold glare sent a snowstorm wiping away the bonfire in my belly. “I’m done playing games, so cut the bullshit. Time to begin the day.” His voice gave no room for interpretation. A cold draft shot down my back.
My brief reprieve from debts and horrible Hawks was over. I’d been shown something I desperately wanted, but denied it because I failed to please him.
“You could teach me…show me how…” I couldn’t make eye contact with him. Mortification painted my cheeks for both admitting I was clueless and asking a monster to coach me.
Jethro laughed. “You think that will save you from what’s coming? Was that your little plan? To make me fuck you in the hopes I might feel something for you?”

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TWO - Jethro's POV

I stood up slowly, clicking my tongue. “Ah, ah, ah, Ms. Weaver. Don’t take that tone with me. You’re the failure. You’re the prisoner. You take what I give you. You do not assume to have any say or authority. That includes listening to everything I deem important to tell you.” Ghosting to a stop in front of her, I murmured, “Is that quite understood?”
I flexed my muscles, welcoming back the soothing chillness of control. I hadn’t liked stepping outside my confines of civility. Things got messy when silence was disrupted. Things got rushed when tempers rose and curses flowed.
And I didn’t want to rush her undoing. I wanted to savour it. Devour it.

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Author Information
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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

Signed Swag Pack (2 Winners)

Monday, August 18, 2014

Release Day: Filthy Beautiful Lies by Kendall Ryan

 **Warning: this
book contains an addictively filthy alpha male who will dampen your panties and
own your days and nights. Proceed at your own risk.**

Meet Colton Drake...

I have no idea why she auctioned off her
virginity for a cool mill. Regardless, I’m now the proud new owner of a
perfectly intact hymen. A lot of good that will do me. I have certain tastes,
certain sexual proclivities. My cock is a bit more discriminatory than most.
And training a virgin takes finesse and patience – both of which I lack.

Sophie Evans has been backed into a corner. With her sister’s life
hanging in the balance, the only choice is to claw her way out, even if that
means selling her virginity to the highest bidder at an exclusive erotic club.
When Colton Drake takes her home, she quickly learns nothing is as it seems
with this beautifully troubled man. Being with him poses challenges she never
expected, and pushes her to want things she never anticipated. 

A sinfully seductive erotic
romance where everything has a price and the cost of love is the highest of all
from New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Kendall Ryan.


 Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling
author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me,
Resisting Her and When I Break.

She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of
books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her
adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and
Visit her at: for the latest book news, and fun extras


Sunday, August 17, 2014


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The Internet is full of naked pictures of pretty girls. Curvy girls splayed on beds. Busty girls gripping their breasts in ecstasy. Blondes getting pounded, pistoned, defiled. Brunettes taking the money shot, the deep throat, the back door.

Any Google search will find you these images. And one of them might be me.

I’m the redhead. The one with her back arched, her eyes wide, her mouth open with desire. The one with her legs spread and her arms tied tight above her head.

I’m the one shot with her own camera and uploaded for the world to see.

And now I’m the one with the secret.


Violet can’t imagine anything worse than having her very private, very naked photos strewn across the Internet.

Until they multiply like a virus. 
With her name, address, and phone number attached.
And her boss finds out. 
And a stalker finds her.

Violet’s refuge is a rock star known for going through groupies faster than guitar picks. But letting Jayce get close enough to protect her exposes her secrets—and her heart—to a man whose celebrity could ruin her.

That’s because being a nobody is the one thing that keeps Violet’s photos from making headlines. And it’s the reason she can never fall for a rock star.

Secrets spread like wildfire when a celebrity fans the flames.


Kindle | BN | iBooks | Kobo


Violet returns to New York City from a trip to her parents’ home in Ithaca. She told Jayce that she’d deal with the naked pictures her ex-boyfriend Brady posted online by herself, but Jayce finds Violet at her apartment.

“Why did you come here, Justin?”
His real name makes his eyes spark. “I came for you.”
“For me, or because of the stalker?”
“Fuck the stalker. For you.”
“I don’t like you cursing.”
His mouth opens and closes in surprise, like I’ve just told him I don’t like sex. “Sorry. I mean, forget the stalker.”
I smile to acknowledge his effort. He looks shy, more unsure of himself now. “But that’s not why I had to see you. I mean, it’s a little part of it, I might have found a way to help, but mostly, I just wanted to talk to you. To be with you.”
It’s clumsy, but it’s real. A thrill rushes through me like I’ve just been picked at a junior high snowball dance.
“I want—” the words I’d practiced on the bus ride scramble in my brain, and I can’t talk to him about needing to be something more than a fling, or needing him to accept my dark urges that I don’t even really understand. He’s already seen my pictures, but he doesn’t know what’s behind them.
He doesn’t know what I really wanted. What I’d asked Brady to give me. And if I tell him, I’m afraid it will send him running the other way in disgust.
“Tell me.”
I shake my head. I can’t get the words past my lips.
Jayce takes another step toward me, now close enough that he reaches for my jaw and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I want to know all about what you want, Violet.” His voice is low, vibrating from his chest. “So if you won’t tell me that, let’s start with something simple. Do you trust me?”
I nod.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Jayce drops his hand from my cheek and steps back. “Give me your shirt.”
I watch him to be sure of his meaning, then cross my arms and lift the hem of my shirt up over my stomach, my eyes locked on his until I pull the shirt over my head. I hand it to him.
His eyes sweep my neck, my freckled chest, my peach lace bra, and my stomach.
“Your bra.” It’s a quiet command, and my blood heats. I feel a flush of color rise from my décolletage to my cheeks, and my breasts are taut when I release them from the lace and wire.
I place the bra in his waiting hand.
“Sandals. Shorts.” His voice is gravelly and I watch his pupils dilate as I flick open the button at my waist, draw down the zipper and let the navy cotton slide down my hips. I hand them to him as well.
With the exception of some tiny panties that don’t even cover my whole butt, I’m totally exposed to him. This is not normal, my inner voice chides me. This strip-on-command isn’t what normal couples do.
I force the thought aside. I’m not terrified. I’m thrilled.
Maybe because this time, I’m going willingly. This time, I’ve handed over control and I’m not afraid of how he’ll use it. Or if he’ll use it against me.
Jayce drops my clothes on a chair and comes close but doesn’t touch me. I feel the heat radiating off his body as he moves to my shoulder, the smell of his sweat like salt and leather. He breathes on my shoulder and instantly my nipples tighten, then his lips move down my arm, still an inch from my skin, and I feel his hot breath all the way to my fingertips.
“I love how you smell,” he whispers, and continues moving around me. My body sparks with contradictions—frozen in place but on fire inside, wanting him to grab me, yet savoring how he restrains himself.
I feel his warmth across my back, near my bottom, by my shoulder. He does another slow survey of my skin with his lips just an inch away, across my collarbone, down the valley between my breasts, stopping just above the lacy top of my panties.
His breath fans across my lower belly and the flesh between my thighs throbs with need. I’m afraid he can see the moisture spreading in my panties, smell my sex heating with just the touch of his breath to my skin.
Suddenly, he straightens. His hand reaches for my hair but it freezes before he touches me.
“You don’t have to do this.” His face is pinched, like a deep muscle’s painful twinge.
“I want to.”
“You don’t have to do anything I ask. You can say no. You can walk away right now.” Jayce’s eyes are pleading with me. Is he asking me to walk away?
“I won’t.” I drop my eyes, embarrassed but needing to say the next words. “Unless you tell me to.”
A rough hand fists in my hair and Jayce drags my eyes back to him. “What do you want? Tell me what you want, Violet.”
“Not good enough. That’s a cop out. Tell me what you want from me. What makes your blood sing? Tell me what you dreamed about last night, because I sure as hell dreamed about you.”
Jayce captures my mouth with a rough kiss, a punishing force that steals my breath and most of my words. I know he just told me to do something, but … he dreamed of me?
“I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t? This is not a question. This is a command. Tell me what you dreamed about last night. Or—”
“Or what?” I whisper, current shooting up my spine with the hint of a threat. Will he force me away if I can’t describe the twisted madness of my dream? How he bent me to his will and I loved him for it?
“Or show me.”


Heidi Joy Trethway Bio:
Heidi Joy lives in Happy Valley off Sunnyside Road. She swears she did not make that up.
Displaying Heidi.jpgHeidi’s obsessed with storytelling. Her career includes marketing, journalism, and a delicious few years as a food columnist. Media passes took her backstage with several rock bands, where she learned that sometimes a wardrobe malfunction is exactly what the rock star intends.
You’ll most often find Heidi Joy with her husband and two small kids cooking, fishing, exploring the Northwest, and building epic forts in their living room.
She loves to hear from readers via messages at


Friday, August 15, 2014

Promo: Smoldering by Tiffany Aleman

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Smoldering by Tiffany Aleman

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Money ~ power ~ fame


Growing up in the arms of one of the wealthiest families in America, I lived a champagne lifestyle and never wanted for anything.

That life came with stipulations…
1.            Marry the man I don’t love.
2.            Make my parents proud.


I left my Manolos and fancy apartment behind and fled that life to find out who I really was.

Someone unexpected bulldozed my life.

Riley Jackson

He was the man everyone, including me, wanted, but his future was one I wasn’t sure I wanted to thrust myself back into. And when he chose a career over the family business, his family supported him instead of pushing him away.

My past collided with my future.
I didn’t see it coming. If I had, I would’ve ran far, far away.

Now I’m stuck in the same position I started in two years ago, except this time, it’s not my decision to make.

Loyalty to your family? Loyalty to your own happiness?

Which would you choose?

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The past week has been pure hell. After I left his parents’ house, something shifted in our relationship, and it wasn’t for the better. I knew the moment Todd called me his ex-fiancé in front of everyone, things between Riley and I would never be the same. I could feel it deep within my soul. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room and I couldn’t breathe. Now, I’m suffocating.

That was seven days ago.

Seven days that my calls and texts have gone unanswered.

Seven days since I’ve seen him.

I’d like to chalk it up to he’s just busy but I know differently. Sleep has evaded me. My appetite is no longer existent. I stay holed up in my room, only leaving for work. I’m living like a hermit. I’ve become a shell of the person I was a week ago. Jen has exhausted all her efforts to make me feel better, but it’s no use. In a million pieces, I left my heart in a driveway in Alabama and, for the first time in my life, I don’t know how to cope.

After deciding that I’m finished trying to get him to come to me, I make the decision to go to him. In a pair of sweat pants and a ratted T-shirt, I pull myself out of bed, not giving a damn how I look. He needs to see what his avoidance has done to me. I go into the bathroom and what I see in the mirror doesn’t surprise me at all. Bloodshot eyes, the tip of my nose and lips red and swollen, and my hair a mess, at least I look how I feel, like shit. For the first time in days, I brush my teeth and even the fresh feeling doesn’t improve my mood. I pull my hair back in a messy bun and decide that’s as good as it’s going to get.

“Where are you going?” Jen asks cautiously as I pick up my purse off the bookshelf by the couch.

“Out,” I answer in a monotone voice, the same voice she’s heard all week.

“Kelsey, I don’t think that’s a good ide—,” she states, but I don’t let her finish as I walk out the door, promptly shutting it on her response.

As I walk out into the humid summer air that the end of July brings, I make my way to my car. It’s pouring out, which causes me to laugh out sardonically. The irony of the storm brewing above matches the tidal wave of emotions happening within me. Realistically, I know, in the state I’m in, I probably shouldn’t be driving, but I’m to the point that I just don’t give a shit anymore.

I’m not sure how I make it to Riley’s house in one piece. On a normal day, the drive would have taken me thirty minutes without traffic, but in a storm, it should have taken me longer. Magically, I make it there in fifteen. And here I sit, probably looking like a stalker, in the driveway parked behind his car. A silver Mercedes occupies the spot where I normally park. Thunder and lightning collide in the night sky, rattling the windows in my car. Rain pours down in sheets, soaking me to the bone as soon as I step out of my car to make my way up the walkway and stairs until I’m standing at the front entrance.

On the other side of this door is the one person that can make all the hurt I’ve been feeling this past week disappear. Pain pierces straight through my heart at the thought of not seeing him again. I sniffle back the tears that I’ve been crying for days. My hands brace my weight against the doorframe as memories of us assault me. The night at City Market when we danced in the middle of Ellis Square, our first technical date, the Blackhawk, the first time we made love, the first time he told me he loved me. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly willing the memories, the happiest memories I’ve ever known, to stop. Tears mix in with the rain as they both flow down my face. Heaving a deep breath, I push myself upright, square my shoulders, and hold my head up high. If this is it, if what we have is really over, then he better be man enough to tell me to my face. The unknown of what is about to come out of this whole situation scares the shit out of me, but I need to know. Slowly, I raise my fist to knock on the door when it suddenly flies open and what I see makes me want to vomit all over again.

A tall, blonde pulls at the hem of her shirt as she rights herself. My eyes feel like they are about to pop out as my mouth opens and shuts as if I’m about to say something. Smeared lipstick stains her cheeks and I’m not sure who’s more shocked, her or me. When my wide eyes meet hers, it literally feels as if a knife has stabbed me in the stomach. If I thought for one second that this past week showed me what actual pain was, I was dead wrong. My knees feel as if they’re about to give way beneath my weight as I stare at the woman in front of me. She smiles at me and her eyes rake over my body, clearly deciding that I’m no competition for her. I look past her to see Riley sitting on the couch in just his jeans, his head in his hands. A tumbler filled with amber liquid rests in front of him on the coffee table.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” I ask through a sob.

The woman looks back at him over her shoulder before turning to look at me. She shrugs her shoulders and says, “Maybe you’ll do the trick. He couldn’t even get it up because he’s so drunk.”

I storm past her, shoving her out of the way, as I make my way to stand directly in front of Riley.

“Hey, bitch, watch it,” she shouts.

When I look at her, she must realize that I’m about to release the hounds of hell in this house because she slowly begins her retreat out the door.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” The menacing tone of my voice scares even me.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, I turn all my anger, hurt, and rage on the only man deserving of my wrath.

“You have something you want to tell me?” I ask. Tears flow freely down my face. There’s no use in trying to conceal them. They just continue to race down my face on their own accord.

He shakes his head from side to side, groaning.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

When he looks up at me, I literally drop to my knees. His eyes are just as bloodshot as mine. The scent of whiskey seeps out of his pores. The evidence of lipstick runs down his neck, across his jaw, and on his lips. My hand flies to my mouth as bile rises in my throat.

“I am so fucking sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head and his eyes holding a vacant stare.


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