Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Release Blitz: Reckless A Bad Boyz Anthology






My name is Lloyd Ledbetter and I am the best lawyer New York criminals can
buy. My obsession to detail is their saving grace. I'm focused, determined
and one­track minded. Nursing my broken heart for the last few months,
I've stayed away from anything that could resemble a relationship.

Until Luke Gunner.

My name is Luke Gunner and I'm the best money launderer criminals can
buy. With an IQ reaching the status of genius, I can practically make money
without breaking a sweat. I'm fun, independent and a lover of life. Settling
down was never a priority especially when I had so many options laid out in
front of me.

Until Lloyd Ledbetter.



I am a FBI agent, working undercover within the Petrov Bratva, Russian

Swarm too much and you were killed. Seem too eager and you were also
killed. The Bratva only has use for the best of the best. You must be lethal,
brutal and show no mercy.

For 5 years I've played the part of loyal servant. Never bringing awareness
as to my true identity. I am careful.

But one woman could be the downfall to everything I have worked so hard
to accomplish. Can I walk away from everything if it means saving her life?

KB Teaser


I'm Dillon Warrick.

Ex­Special Forces. I have no memory of what went down on my last
deployment, so when the opportunity came to resign my commission and
sign up for a new gig I jumped on it.

Now I'm the personal bodyguard for the biggest celebrity on the globe and
still living life on the edge.

I'm six feet two inches of blond­haired, blue­eyed Adonis, combat­fit body
and fully loaded weapon.

My best friend, Graham, thinks I'm running too close to the edge and about
to take a fall. And then there's Rachel, my former high school sweetheart
turned fuck­buddy. As incredible as she is, I can't commit until I unravel the
mystery of what happened on my final mission.

S.W Teaser


On the surface, country boy Wade is a reckless partier and a player. The
word relationship is not in his vocabulary. The feeling is mutual for Laney
after being burned by a past relationship. The two meet at a bar, and there
is something neither of them can shake about each other once Laney literally
falls onto Wade's fit, handsome body.

Wade must repossess Laney's car, and she continues to be a thorn in his
side as they set out on an adventure together. Can the two of them see past
the surface and bring out the best in one another, or will Wade's bad habits
send him back home alone?

SW Teaser


Some will call me crazy, but it's simpler than that ­ when you love someone,
walking away is the hardest thing to do.

I've done it ­ twice ­ and I refuse to walk away anymore.
I'm Zane Maverick and its third time's a charm where Amelia Abbiati is

This fight isn't one I'll lose.

KAS Teaser


My alias is Brixton Holt. Using my real name could get me killed. When the
FBI needed a man undercover, I was the perfect candidate. Unattached and
an all­around badass. Two years of infiltrating the largest sex trafficking ring
in the country, I feel as dirty as the monsters I work for. That is, until she
catches my eye. I call her Brandi. Her real name is no longer significant. She
knows the rules. Nobody leaves unless it's in a box­­a shipping crate or a
coffin. My first mistake was following orders. The second? Falling in love.

AMW Teaser


I lived a simple life. I had my own apartment, a successful restaurant I ran
with my sister, and my cat, Prue. I was ignorantly happy.

Until him...

I wasn't looking for anything beyond a place to hide the night I walked into
Jamison's tattoo parlor.

By the time I'd left, he'd made an impression on my body...and my mind.
Jamison wasn't easy to get to know. He wouldn't let me get close enough to
see who he really was. When he finally did, I was introduced to a world I'd
only ever experienced in movies.

It wasn't the life he chose. It's the life he was born into. Leaving it behind
meant there would be causalities...I never realized I'd be one.

LB Teaser


Savannah's life was on automatic as she still resided in the same sleepy
town she grew up in with the same people and the same situations. Then
she ran across Troy Bennet, the outsider, who didn't mess around with any
of the townie women. Ever.

Until that fateful day, when she learned that her bedroom cravings were not
foreign to the brooding man and he was willing to follow­through on his

That was until Savannah found herself in the middle of a shoot­out, only to
learn that the sexy Troy was a hired assassin.

XT Teaser


The Hidradenitis Supprativa Trust


About The Charity

Hidradenitis Suppurativa (HS) is a chronic skin disease, which appears as a boil­like abscess in
the apocrine gland­bearing areas, such as the armpits, breasts and groin. This recurrent
inflammatory, and often painful disease is often overlooked, as not much is known of the actual

The Hidradenitis Suppurativa Trust are the only UK charity dedicated to the raising of
awareness, understanding and support for this chronic, debilitating skin disorder. We aim to
increase public knowledge and educate the medical profession on the symptoms, treatments and
severities of HS. All profits made by us go towards achieving our goals, which we hope will
eventually include the development of a cure.

Buy Links


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Release Blitz: Wings of Vengeance by Cameo Renae

Title: Wings of Vengeance (Hidden Wings Series, Book Five)
Author: Cameo Renae
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Publisher: CHBB
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR

No one knows of Lucian’s long-held secret—a recently transformed Nephilim daughter. Unfortunately for the Gray house, Lilith believes Emma is the one responsible for killing her father, and her deep-rooted hatred has turned into an envious obsession.
Powerful, with wings as dark as night, revenge consumes Lilith’s every thought, only to be fueled by Lucifer’s lies. Her newly transformed gifts have raised the danger level. Her aim is to strip Emma from everyone she loves, and has Lucifer’s Fallen warriors to aid in her task.
Receiving help from Midway, Emma reconnects with friends of old and new, and hopes it will be enough to keep them all alive.

My family is what keeps my heart beating, and my world a happy place to be.

I was born in San Francisco, raised in Maui, Hawaii, and recently moved with my husband and children to Alaska.
I'm a daydreamer, a caffeine and peppermint addict. I love to laugh, love to read, and love to escape reality. One of my greatest joys is creating fantasy worlds filled with adventure and romance, and sharing it with others.
One day I hope to find my own magic wardrobe, and ride away on a magical unicorn. Until then...I'll keep writing!

Favorite quote: "The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge, but imagination." Albert Einstein


Follow me on:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CameoRenaeFanPage
Blog: http://cameorenae.blogspot.com/
Website: http://cameorenae.com 

Twitter: @CameoRenae 

Buy Links: 

Chapter 1

“Emma, wake up.” I blinked several times, trying to focus in the darkness, only to find Kade’s distraught eyes hovering close by. “Another nightmare?” he asked.
I nodded, wiping the beads of sweat from my brow and then cuddled close to him, resting my head on his chest. The beating of his heart had a way of calming my anxiety, soothing my every fear.
“Maybe you should talk to Alaine,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning,” I exhaled.
“You’re shaking.” His hands rubbed down my arms. “Was it about me?”
I could sense a hint of concern in his voice.
“No,” I breathed. “It was about Alaine this time.”
I tried to erase the visions of her scorched and blistered body from my mind, but it was still there. In full color. Terrorizing me. The smell of smoke was still lingering in my nose, and the heat of the flames still felt warm on my skin.
I didn’t want to worry anyone with my troubles, but it was the third time this week I’d woken Kade with these horrifying nightmares. Every night it was a different loved one, and they were getting stronger as they progressed.
What was most unnerving was the shadowy figure with onyx wings present in every one. I could never make out the face but could sense its twisted pleasure as it watched me suffer.
I’d had enough of watching my loved ones endure horrible and painful deaths. Although they were nightmares, the pain was real and lingered for days after. It was something I couldn’t just erase. These dreams ate at my soul, keeping me tight in its cold, indifferent arms, holding on through my waking hours.
I prayed they weren’t premonitions, and I prayed Kade wouldn’t be in any future nightmares. I’d watched him suffer in real life, and it’d shattered my entire being. Now that we were bonded, watching it happen again would kill me.
I glanced over at the clock. It was four in the morning, but I didn’t want to go back to sleep.
“Where are you going?” Kade asked as I slipped from the warmth of his arms.
“To make some coffee and read the book Lia sent me.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay here with me?”
“You know I do, I just don’t want to go back to sleep.”
His hazel eyes swirled with desire. “I didn’t say we had to sleep.”
“Are you seducing me, Mr. Anders?”
A grin played on his lips as he pulled the covers down. “Maybe.”
“Well then,” I exhaled, jumping in next to him. “Coffee can wait.”

Sale Blitz: Give Me Yesterday: K Webster / Elle Christensen

give me yesterday - sale blitz2.jpg


AP - Synopsis.jpg

High powered divorce lawyer, Victoria Larkin, is known as the ice queen. Tough. Emotionless. What they don’t know, is that ten years ago, she lost everything. Including her hope for the future.

Chase Monroe struggles with his own demons. Devastated by guilt and on a mission to correct his past, he uses his skills as a college psychology professor to help others move beyond their grief.

When Victoria is forced to attend grief counselling, she meets Chase, and there is an instant attraction. Chase is determined to help her confront her past and find happiness. Victoria is afraid to relive her pain.

Just as they begin to step forward, tragedy strikes and throws them backwards, and they find themselves, once again, shackled to the past.

Can Chase and Victoria find the path to a happy future together? Or will they forever be wishing for yesterday?

**Recommended 18+ due to language and sexual content.

AP - Buy The Book.jpg

Only 99c for this week!


AP- Excerpt.jpg

Chapter One
           “Now,” I narrow my eyes and pin several of my smart-ass students with a firm stare, “Don’t think by choosing ‘Power and Dominance’ as your topic that I’m going to accept a bunch of BDSM papers.  If you took anything out of this class, you’ll understand that it is much more than floggers and calling someone Daddy.”  An eruption of laughter roars in front of me.  “Anyone that chooses that topic will be graded harder than say one that nobody ever chooses, like ‘Cognitive Biases of Decision Making’ or ‘Parental Investment.’”
           The chuckles die down and several of them groan, clearly they were all headed to Tumblr to begin their research right after class.
           I smirk at their disappointment and continue.  “You have two weeks to complete this assignment as per what the grading rubric specifies.  Wednesday and Friday of this week, we’ll use our class time in the Media Center to begin our research.  All papers are due the week before finals and is twenty percent of your overall grade as you’ll see if you refer back to your syllabus.  Anyone have any questions?”
           Mack, the class idiot, raises his hand.  “Two weeks isn’t very long to do a twenty-five-page research paper, Dr. Monroe.  Especially when finals are around the corner.”
           Several other students groan in agreement.
           I frown and scrunch my eyebrows together as if to contemplate his complaint.  “You know, Mack, you have a point.  Forget the assignment.”
           When they all cheer, I laugh.  “Kidding.  Do the assignment.  Don’t be lazy.  Most of you are U of C seniors and plan on taking internships at psychiatric wards and private practices this summer.  Do you think they want lazy asses?”
           Some of the class chuckles at my cursing while some are grumbling at my not-so-funny joke.
           “I’m here to make it tough,” I regard Mack with a serious look and push my black-rimmed glasses up my nose, “Because those patients out there are going to be one helluva lot tougher than I am.  Suck it up and do the assignment.  See you guys Wednesday and don’t forget to have your topic posted on Blackboard before next class.”
           This class groans and shuffles as they gather their things.  Cort, my teaching assistant, strolls down the steps and drops his bag on my table.  He’s been my assistant for two years now, but I’ll lose him in a few weeks once he graduates.  Then it’ll be a nightmare selecting another to take his place.  The guy’s familiar with the way I like to grade and keeps me organized.  It sucks that I’ll have to start all over in the fall.
           “You even had me going and I know never to believe your goofy ass,” he gripes and rolls his eyes at me as he leans against the table.
           I chuckle as I gather my notes and tuck them into my thick, leather folder.  “It’s twenty-five pages.  They’ll get over it—so will you.”
           “I, for one, could have used two weeks of extra study time,” he pouts.
           Shoving the folder into my messenger bag, I raise an amused brow at him.  “Really, Cort? You typed up the rubric and input my notes into Blackboard.  Did you really think I’d waste all that work done and that you’d get off that easy?”
           He runs a frustrated hand through his overgrown blond hair and frowns.  “Wishful thinking I guess.  I’m stressed and have a lot going on right now with my classes—all of which they are unloading a crap-ton of assignments at the last minute.  But I should have known better with your hard ass.”
           I stand and walk over to him, and then slap him on the shoulder.  “Come on.  I’ll take you to dinner, you big baby.  I’ll tally the topics as they come in today and tomorrow and then add them to the spreadsheet.  You can,” I throw up air quotes and mimic him in a whiny voice, “study.”
           He swats me away as he laughs and shoulders his bag.  “You’re a prick, Chase.  No wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend.”
           I flip him off and grab up my messenger bag.  “I think you deserve an ‘F’ for that smart-ass comment.  Besides,” I tease with a wag of my eyebrows, “They couldn’t hand the Chase.”
           He shoves open the classroom door and I follow out after him.  “Most women,” he mutters as if he’s the professor and I the student, “prefer to catch the one they’re chasing.  You never settle with any of them.”
           I scratch the dark scruff along my jawline as I ponder his words.  “I stayed with Savannah for a while.”
           He scoffs from beside me.  “A while?  Chase, you dated her for three weeks.  The girl had practically planned your wedding and named all your future kids.  And when you got bored of her and broke it off, who do you think she pestered for weeks afterward.”
           Cort may be my teaching assistant and eight years my junior, but we’ve become pretty good friends.  Unfortunately for him, he’s been privy to several hairy breakups.  Including Savvy.
           “She didn’t pester you,” I laugh and hold open the door that leads outside and to the parking lot.
           This time he bellows.  “Fucking asshole! She stalked me on Facebook and sent me like fifty-seven messages asking me to ‘talk’ to you.  I finally had to block her ass.  So yes, she pestered the hell out of me.”
           My thoughts turn to Savvy.  Sweet, petite, pixie of a woman, Savvy.  Her bobbed brunette hair and dimples drew me in.  Her neediness and pressure to define our relationship was what drove me away.  The woman was great in the sack.  It was after we crawled out of bed that things became a problem.
           “Maybe I should call her up.  Invite her to dinner with us,” I poke at him to see if he’ll bite.
           “Do it and I’ll torch your baby,” he threatens, taking my bait.
           As we stride through the parking lot, I search for my baby.  She’s all curves and gloss.  My baby doesn’t whine or complain when I leave the toilet seat up or ask me to call her my girlfriend.  In fact, she purrs when I get her all revved up.
           “Do it and I’ll torch you.”
           He bursts into hysterics as we approach my midnight black with charcoal racing stripes Dodge Challenger.  I bought her new in December—a little present to myself.  Her payment is more than my rent, but she’s worth it.
           “You know,” he muses as we toss our bags into the back and climb in, “Maybe I should become a college professor instead.  Dr. Murdock drives a six-year-old Toyota Camry with hubcaps and wears stained button downs.  You, on the other hand, look like you fell out of a magazine with your model hair and drive a badass car.  I wonder if I could convince Mom to skip on my interning with him and change things up a bit.  Chicago needs better professors. Who better than fresh from the class of 2015?”
           I shake my head ruefully at him and push my key into the ignition.  After I turn her over and rev the engine, I glance over at him before putting it in gear.  “Considering Dr. Murdock is the partnering psychiatrist at your Mom’s private practice, I don’t think that’d be a good idea.  Besides, I like when she invites me to dinner a couple of times a month.  She’d kick my ass if I influenced you to switch careers and my home cooked meals would dry up.”
           Rolling out of the spot, I lean back against the cherry red leather bucket seat and cruise out of the parking lot.  I hang a left onto 59th and head toward our favorite Irish pub, O’Malley’s that sells the best Galway oysters and draft beer.
           “Unfortunately, I don’t think my mom would ever cut you off.  She says I need a good, male role model in my life,” he growls out the last part with a bitter bite.
           I clear my throat and change the subject.  Cort has the corner on deadbeat dads.  But, he doesn’t like talking about it, and I don’t push.  “How’s Blair?”
           Glancing over at him, I’m rewarded with a toothy grin.  “God, man, she’s amazing.  I’m going to marry that girl one day.”
           “Did she finally start giving head?” I laugh.
           His cheeks redden, but he nods.  Lucky prick.  “Like a champ,” he says with a whistle, “But that’s not why.  She’s great and I love her.”
           Such an unfamiliar word in my head.
           No matter how many times I lecture on the topic of love and mating from a psychological perspective, I have a hard time grasping it in my own head.  Aside from mom, I don’t love anyone.  And several girls I dated came close but it was never more than a lovely infatuation.  Never love.  Never the all-encompassing, do anything for the other, blinding type of love.
           I wonder if I’m even capable.
           I wonder if I even deserve it.
           “Blair’s a good apple,” I agree, driving out depressing, self-loathing thoughts as I pull into O’Malley’s parking lot.  “She’s good for you.”
           We climb out and make our way inside the smoky pub.  Claudia owns the place and squeals when she sees me walk inside.  The fifty-something woman with her horrible blond dye job painted on her shoulder length hair bounces over to me, suffocating me with not only her hug but her god awful perfume she no doubt hoarded from the eighties.
           “Missed you, handsome,” she gushes and finally releases me.  Her brown eyes have been dulled from years of drowning her sadness in alcohol.  Tiny wrinkles around her heavily rouge painted lips though indicate she’s spent the past few years finding happiness again.
           I chuckle and flash her a flirtatious grin.  “You saw me Saturday, gorgeous.  It’s not like I don’t come in here at least once between weekends.”
           Her cheeks redden and she waves us over to a booth near a window.  “You’re too young to be flirting with an old lady like me.  Sit your cute butts down over there and I’ll bring you a couple of tall boys.  I’ll have Baxter throw in a batch of fried pickles too.”
           Cort rolls his eyes at me as we slide into the booth.  He’s used to my effect on every woman I encounter.  Claudia’s different than most women, though.  She’s a true friend and we understand the pain we each force below our surface, hidden by jokes and smiles.
           “Maybe you should hook up with her,” he jests after she scurries off, “That is unless you’ve already hit that.  You dirty bastard.”
           “She’s my friend, asshole.  We’re in the same group that meets each Saturday.”  As soon as I blurt out the last bit, I clamp my mouth shut, grinding my teeth into dust and wish I could erase my words.
           He quirks a blond brow in question, the clever guy not missing a beat.  “You ever going to tell me about this group?  What is it? A singles group?  It can’t be AA because you drink more than me and I’m the college, kid.”
           Guilt surges through me at not ever having told Cort about what my group is.  He’s never asked so blatantly before and I’m unsure how to respond.  My group is very near and dear to me.  Each person in there is closer to me than my own mother.  Our pasts are all brittle and broken.  It seems traitorous to share what we are about with someone who could never understand.
           “It’s a support, group.  And Claud’s a great lady but she’s not interested in ever remarrying,” I clip out and cut my eyes over to her.  She’s slicing an orange to garnish our beers with and she’s lost in thought.  When no one’s looking, she drops her playful demeanor.  Loss and heartache plague her features.  But the moment she lifts her chin and her eyes meet mine, she forces a grin.  I smile back.  “Anyway, what’re you doing your topic on?”
           Cort narrows his eyes at me but respects my blatant subject change.  “Personality and Psychopathology.  Thought I might figure out ole’ Daddy,” he grits out.
           His parents divorced when he was a senior in high school when his mother found her best friend in bed with her husband. It was a bitter, nasty divorce that pulled both him and his younger sister into it.
           “Psychopathology isn’t the same as psychopathy, man.  Hate to burst your bubble there.  You’re dad’s just a cheating asshole.  That’s my professional opinion,” I tell him with a shrug.
           He laughs and soon we’re past tense subjects while we devour fried pickles and beer that Claudia’s long since brought to us.
           My laptop sits on the coffee table in front of me open to Blackboard.  Most of my students have already inputted their topics, a few brave souls—Mack included—challenging me by taking on ‘Power and Dominance.’  But my gaze isn’t on my computer but instead on the wall in front of me—a wall I’ve painted countless times.  Clamping my eyes shut, I attempt to conjure up the exact shade I remember.  Everything is sketchy in my memory bank and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it right.
           One thing’s for sure, though.
           It’s the wrong goddamned shade.
           With a huff, I rise to my feet and stalk over to the bookshelf in the corner.  On the top shelf sits a color palette booklet.  Snatching it up, I thumb through the colors of the rainbow until I find the one color that always alludes me yet is perfectly imprinted in my brain.
           I count through the X’s over each wrong color.
           The seventeenth shade gets a big fucking X too.
           Since I only instruct Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of each week, Tuesday’s and Thursday’s are my play days. Tomorrow, it would seem, I’ll be playing in the paint section of the hardware store.
           I carry over the palette to the bar and drop it beside my wallet.  Tomorrow I’ll attempt, once again, to find that color.
           The color that haunts my dreams.
           The color that should bring joy but instead drags out depression from the depths of my soul.
           A color that will always be perfect in my head but no matter how hard I fucking try, I’ll never bring it to life on my living room wall.
           “Life’s not fair,” I mimic Mom’s words.
           I cringe at her harsh words that were meant to mend my heart and push me back into reality.  Back then, despite her unyielding personality, she was there for me.  But, she eventually lost the bite of her hardened heart that my selfish father created, the moment Alzheimer’s started playing tricks on her.  Little by little it stole my strict mother away and in return gave me this confused, lost woman.  The only person I ever truly loved came to a point where she couldn’t remember if she loved me back or not.  Now, I’m all on my own, facing reality, without my mother’s guiding hand and advice.
My head throbs in unison with my broken heart and I run my fingers through my hair.  Gripping at it, I slam my eyes shut.
           Discombobulated shards of my brutal past stab and slice through my head.  I force my eyes back open and with it, the sadness that ever attaches itself to my psyche withdraws into the shadows of my mind.
           Tomorrow, I’ll visit her.
           Tuesday’s they have fresh daffodils at Schrage’s Florist and just like I do each week, I’ll bring them to her.
           She doesn’t have to tell me she likes them because I know.
           Pain once again slices through my chest and I stumble into the kitchen, on a desperate mission to dull it.  Yanking open the cabinet door above the stove, I grab the amber colored whiskey bottle and unscrew the cap.  I bring it to my lips and take a long swig, enjoying the burn as it races down my throat.
           It burns in my chest and chases away the hurt.
           But for how long?
           Another pull of the whiskey.
           Life’s not fucking fair.

AP - about the author.jpg

Elle Christensen
I’m a lover of all things books, a hopeless romantic, and have always had a passion for writing. Between being a sappy romantic, my love of an HEA, my crazy imagination, and ok, let’s be real, my dirty mind, I fell easily into writing romance.
I’m a huge baseball fan and yet, a complete girly, girl. I’m an obsessive reader and have a slight (hahaha! Slight? Yeah, right) addiction to signed books.
I’m married to my very own book boyfriend, an alpha male with a sexy, sweet side. He is the best inspiration, my biggest supporter and the love of my life. He is also incredibly patient and understanding about the fact that he has to fight the voices in my head for my attention.
I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Author Links

K. Webster

K Webster is the author of dozens of romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she's active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Author Links

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