Sunday, February 25, 2018

Release Day Blitz: Loner Book#4 in the Nomad Series by Janine Infante Bosco




IT’S A LONELY RIDE TO HELL!
Are you ready for Linc and Kelly?
Happy RELEASE Day to Janine Infante Bosco! 




¸.•´✶LONER¸.•´✶ 
Nomad #4


By Janine Infante Bosco
Publication Date: February 25, 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense
Grab your copy now!


 


#AVAILABLE #KU #JANINEINFANTEBOSCO #THENOMADSERIES

¸.•´✶#GIVEAWAY¸.•´✶
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COVER CREDITS:

Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design
Model: LANCE JONES
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography

Synopsis:

Linc

A man who can’t visualize his future will always revert to his past.
To where he came from and all the ways he failed.
The murder and mayhem that changed his life and darkened his soul.
The legacy of who he is will burn through his veins and ominously guide him to hell.
A place where he pays not only for his sins but the sins of his father as well.
A hustler by nature, a loner by choice, I am the spawn of Satan.
I am Lincoln Brandt and I am the son of Cain.

Kelly

Reckless and rebellious, I’ve spent most of my life running away from one mistake only to chase another.
At the end of my rope with nowhere left to turn, I’m about to make the biggest one of all.
Face to face with the bastard who broke me, I lay it all on the line for him.
My heart and my life.
Heaven is overrated and the ride to Hell doesn’t have to be lonely.
The stakes are high.
The risk great.
It’s do or die.
Together we’ll ride.
Forever we’ll burn.

#Loner #TheRideToHell #TheNomadSeriesFinale #JanineInfanteBosco







¸.•´✶#EXCERPT¸.•´✶
LONER © Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

Standing off to the side, surrounded by Shady and Sin I finally spot him and watch as the three of them raise their shot glasses. Through the fog of smoke, I can still see him flinch as the liquor slides down his throat and the smile that appears as Sin drapes his arm around his shoulders.
My stomach twists with need as I continue to stare at him. Wishing I could be next to him, craving the feel of his arms around me and his hot breath against my ear as he whispers all his filthy promises.
“What’re you doing out here?” My uncle’s deep voice calls from behind, startling me.
Tearing my eyes away from Linc, I turn to face him and lift my water bottle.
“I was thirsty,” I lie.
Lifting a glass to his lips, he narrows his eyes. My shoulders slump under his intense scrutiny and I know he sees right through me.
“Get the stars out of your eyes, Kelly,” he growls, lowering the glass to his side.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I argue. With his free hand, he grabs me by the shoulder and spins me around so I’m facing the party again.
“Look at him,” he demands. Stretching an arm over my shoulder, still holding the glass, he points to Linc. “You see what I see?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I know there is no way he can possibly see Linc the way I do. He doesn’t see the parts of him that belong only to me.
“He belongs to his brothers, to his club, to the reaper on his back and that’s all he’ll ever belong to,” he says. “Men like us don’t stick and the sooner you realize that the safer that young heart of yours will be.”
Men like my uncle are stubborn old mules who believe everyone is cut from the same cloth and has the same beliefs. Explaining that Linc and I share a special bond would be a wasted effort and the objection sitting on my tongue fades away as Linc tries to hide his smile by swiping a hand down his face. He’s not like my uncle. He’s not like any of these guys.
“Do yourself a favor and forget about him because I promise you if you don’t he will break you. It won’t be his intention and you won’t see it coming but, it will happen and the both of you will be helpless against it.”
Having had enough of his brutal warning, I spin around and glare at him.
“Thanks for the advice,” I mutter.
Without another word, I brush past him and hurry back to my room. Once inside, I chuck the bottle of water against the wall and crawl into my bed. My head hits the pillow and I stare up at the ceiling, digesting Uncle Al’s words.
As the hours pass it becomes harder for me not to believe he was right. Things are going to change for us. He will get pulled deeper into the club and the year we spent getting to this day will be a memory. A stepping stone on the path to hell.
Deciding I should quit while I’m ahead, I turn on my side and reach for the light on my nightstand. As I switch it off my door opens. I smell him before I see him. Leather and whiskey mixed with the musk of his cologne. The lock slides into place and when I roll over I find Linc leaning against my door. The smile he was trying to hide earlier, shines unabashedly back at me, making him look younger.
“There you are,” he says, kicking off the door. “Why are you in here?” he questions, stepping further into my room. Pushing the comforter down, I sit up and lean against the headboard.
“Where else would I be?”
“My room,” he replies, shrugging off his leather vest. Carefully, he drapes it over the chair in front of my desk and I watch as his eyes linger over it a moment before he turns back to me. “Our room,” he amends.
The declaration that his room suddenly has become ours causes my stomach to flip as he walks around my bed.
“I didn’t want to impose,” I tell him as he sinks down onto my mattress. Spreading his legs, he bends over and pulls at the laces of his moto boots. My mouth grows dry and I forget only seconds ago I was declaring him part of my past or that I spent half the night picturing him with other girls.
“I saw you,” he rasps. “Standing in the hallway, I saw you.”
“I went to get a drink,” I murmur. Kicking off his boots, he twists his frame to face me and rolls up his sleeves.
“I saw you and all I could think of was how badly I wanted to taste your pussy again,” he says.  Pulling the comforter down to my knees, his large hand grabs the inside of my thigh. “I want to eat you, feel you come on my tongue and then I want to fuck you harder than you ever imagined you could be fucked. You think you can handle that, Pinky? Can you handle me and everything I plan to do to you?”
Heat pools between my legs as his hand slides further up my thigh. His thumb strokes over the soaked scrap of lace covering me and he smirks.
“Thanks for leaving your panties on my lamp this morning,” he says. “You’re never getting them back.”


¸.•´✶ABOUT AUTHOR JANINE INFANTE BOSCO¸.•´✶






Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong-willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

¸.•´✶CONNECT WITH JANINE¸.•´✶
Website: http://www.janineinfantebosco.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineboscoauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanineBosco
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/grassking205/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1FJa8S3
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/29Dfru4
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Book Bub Author Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/janine-infante-bosco  




DON'T MISS THE REST OF THE NOMAD SERIES. 
 #JanineInfanteBosco #TheNomadSeries 


***NOTE: ALL BOOKS IN THE NOMAD SERIES can be read as STANDALONE novels. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***


πŸ’œhttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f76/1/16/1f48b.pngπŸ’‹https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/fcc/1/16/1f3bc.png🎼https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/ffd/1/16/1f52b.pngπŸ”«https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f96/1/16/1f49c.pngπŸ’œ
DRIFTER BOOK #1
Amazon:
Add to your TBR:


πŸ’œhttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f76/1/16/1f48b.pnghttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f96/1/16/1f49c.pngπŸ’‹https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/fcc/1/16/1f3bc.png🎼https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/ffd/1/16/1f52b.pngπŸ”«https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f96/1/16/1f49c.pngπŸ’œ
WANDERER BOOK #2
Amazon:



πŸ’œhttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f76/1/16/1f48b.pnghttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f96/1/16/1f49c.pngπŸ’‹https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/fcc/1/16/1f3bc.png🎼https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/ffd/1/16/1f52b.pngπŸ”«https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v8/f96/1/16/1f49c.pngπŸ’œ


Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Cover Reveal: Farewell to Beantown by P. Marie







Title: Farewell to Beantown

Series: Boston Belles #3
Author: P. Marie
Genre: YA/NA Romance

Cover Design: Nativesons Design

 Release Date: March 7, 2018





Blurb


The truth will set your free.
While Lexi Cole’s physical wounds have faded
her emotional scars still linger.
Determined to be stronger than the fragile
little girl she once was, she rises up to take on her past. For the first time
in her short life, she’s able to taste the independence she’s always longed
for, ready for the future with Frankie. However, when tragedy strikes, will
their new found love be enough to keep them together? Or will she be forced to
face the harsh truth. That not all love stories even those with your best
friends promise a happy ending?
Laughter, tears, unforgettable moments, and
family await you in this emotional farewell.










Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU






Author Bio


P. Marie lives in a small town outside of Boston where she
was born and raised. She resides in the house she grew up in with her husband
of 34 years and her two fur babies, Tek and Tessie. She is the proud mother of
two adult children. While she is a corporate girl during the day, she has
become both a writer and blogger by night. P. Marie says she owes her success
to her mother who taught her that if you believe in yourself, you can achieve
anything.


Author Links





Sale Alert Roamer Book Three in the Nomad Series by Janine Infante Bosco

✮ ✮ ✮ SALE ALERT! ✮ ✮ ✮




The third book #Roamer in the Nomad Series is on sale just 99¢ for a limited time only!

Grab your copy today!

#RideorDieLove #BonnieandClyde #Roamer




= Buy Now #KU =


= Add to Goodreads TBR =


= Blurb =


Cobra


I’ve lived two lives.
One full of innocence and one full of sin.
I mourned the perfect life I was born into and made it my duty to chase the phantom who stole it from me.
Revenge, mayhem and loss are all I know.
I am the lone man—I am the wanderer.
The former nomad—now, Satan’s deadliest soldier.
The two worlds were never supposed to collide. Innocence and sin aren’t made to coexist yet somehow my past bleeds into the present and I find myself facing my biggest regret…I find myself face to face with her—the girl who got away.
The girl I let go.
The woman I’ll ruin if I stay.


Celeste


Our young love was marred by violence.
Our guilt destroyed us, fate tempted us but, it was he who broke us.
They say time heals all, but all time did was dull the ache of his abandonment.
Now, dressed in leather, covered in ink the boy I mourned is now a man—a man tormented by his demons.
In another life we were everything to one another.
In this life we’re strangers.


***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***





= Excerpt =
 Red lipstick at Target - Copyright 2017 Janine Infante Bosco
POV – Deuce

There are two fucking things I despise in this world. The first is admitting when I’m wrong and the second is shopping. I really fucking hate shopping. So tell me, why the fuck am I pushing a red wagon into Target? Better yet, tell me why this was my idea? Actually, I’ll give you a gold star if you can explain why I’m not bothered by it so much either?
“I thought you said we were getting food,” Ally says as we step inside a shopaholic’s mothership.
Yeah, so did I.
That was the fucking plan.
I should probably stop planning anything considering none of them seem to go accordingly. Making a note of it, I try to place where I went wrong. Sitting in my room and staring at the wall that separated Ally and I was probably it. I thought putting her in Cobra’s room was a no-brainer. She had her own space, and I had mine. There was a connecting door in case she needed anything, but other than that we could go about our business.
Yeah, not so much.
The truth was, before the fucking world flipped on its axis I was rarely ever at the motel. Other than sleeping and showering, I didn’t do much there. When I wasn’t riding or fucking my way through life, I was playing the Satan’s Knights prodigal cowboy, shooting shit and digging graves. Not one to be confined, I was climbing the four fucking walls of that room.
After Ally’s moment outside the hospital, I listened as she relived another traumatic experience. It’s one thing to assume what she’s been through but hearing her say it—shit, that left me reeling. I spent half the night wondering if she was okay or if she was reliving more agony. I could have checked in on her during the night but I was too chicken shit. Sure, I was experienced in post-traumatic stress but not Ally’s kind. I knew Stryker had suffered after the war and there were certain triggers that left it impossible to obtain peace. I feared handing that helmet to Ally had opened the door to a night full of terror and that bothered me. I didn’t want to be the one who enticed her demons to come out and play.  I wanted to be the guy who gave her a reprieve from all that shit, the guy who could maybe show her there was a great big world out there waiting for her.
Like it or not, she was my responsibility now. Her well-being and her peace of mind was my newfound commitment.
That’s why I opened that door today.
That’s the fucking reason I sat on her bed and counted her freckles.
After realizing she was okay, that she was just bored, I should have left her alone and gone back to my room, but then we started to talk. Talking to Ally was an experience. Hell, you couldn’t go a moment without wondering what she was going to say next. One minute she was an ordinary woman making it easy to forget her story. The next minute she was the wounded warrior, holding onto a book of matches, fighting for the strength to overcome her past. I was getting whiplash trying to keep up.
What broke me though was when she willingly gave me more of her story. Trust isn’t something I imagine comes easy for her and knowing she trusted me enough to confide in me did something to me. It fucked with me in more ways than one. It made me want to rewrite her past. Knowing that was impossible, I did the stupidest thing I could have ever done.
I kissed her.
I fucking kissed her.
And Jesus Christ, her lips were plump and pliable—fucking perfect.
And her taste—fuck me.
Someone needs to create a word for how fucked I am.
Motherfucked isn’t cutting it anymore.
The torture didn’t stop there though.
Nope, it continued when Ally pulled out her ace.
She smiled and I folded.
Game over.
No fucking sane man could compete with that smile let alone one who had lost all his fucking logic. It was breathtaking and intoxicating all the same. Fucking captivating was what it was.
And like a fool, I wanted to see more of it.
“You need stuff, don’t you?” I ask, pushing the cart like a total jackass. Grinding my teeth, I make a turn and nearly take down the display of Goldfish crackers. Give me two wheels and I’ll make that baby purr, give me a horse and I’ll make her gallop, give me a red wagon with a bull’s-eye and I’m an imbecile.
Frustrated, I park the cart in the center of the aisle and turn to Ally.
“Take this fucking thing, please,” I grind out, taking both her hands and placing them on the handlebar. There, that’s better. Stepping away from the offensive death trap, I pull my shit together and focus.
“Coconuts,” I say finally.
“You want to buy me coconuts?” she asks, looking at me like I’ve got a third eye.
“Your hair smelled like coconuts the other night,” I clarify. “I don’t have any of that fancy shit back at the motel and I’m pretty sure your brother doesn’t either.”
“Oh,” she replies thoughtfully. “That was Reina’s.”
“Well, time to get you some of your own,” I tell her, scratching the scruff lining my jaw. Looking away, I take in the products on the shelf and pick up a toothbrush. Chucking it into the wagon, I glance back at her. “You see something you need you throw it in the wagon.”
“I’ve been shopping before, Deuce,” she says, taking the toothbrush out of the wagon. I’m about to argue with her when she grabs a green one instead. “I like this one better,” she adds, reaching for the toothpaste. She grabs two different types and studies them with deep concentration.
“What’s the difference?” she asks.
“Get both,” I reply automatically. She turns to me and I shrug my shoulders. Waiting for her to argue with me, she fools me and dumps them both in the cart. Her eyes travel the length of the aisle and she adds mouthwash, floss and some sort of whitening kit to the growing list of dental products. Once she finishes scoping out the aisle, she grabs the cart and pushes it down the next.
Following her down the aisles, I watch as she lifts things off the shelves and decides what she likes. A half hour goes by and we’re barely out of the toiletry section, not to mention the wagon is half-full.
Turning down the next aisle, she turns to me. A crease works the center of her forehead as she glances at the shelves.
“I never understood the difference,” she says, waving her hand at the condom selection. “Do you have a favorite?”
Unlike the toothpaste, I can’t tell her to grab every variety and give them a whirl, so I say nothing as she grabs a pack.
“Ribbed,” she mutters.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“You don’t like ribbed?” she questions, lifting her gaze back to me.
“Ally,” I warn. Quickly, she glances around the store, over her shoulder and back to me.
“What? Are people looking at me? I sort of feel like they are. You know, like I’m a fish out of water?”
“They’re not looking at you,” I grind out.
“So I blend in?”
Doesn’t every girl comparing condoms fit in with the crowd at Target? Fuck my life. Man, you can’t make this shit up.
“Totally,” I say, taking the condoms out of her hand. Chucking them into the wagon, her eyes widen and she pokes a finger against my chest.
“You do like ribbed!”
Gripping the wagon with one hand, I grab her arm and lead her out of the aisle.
“I thought you said you’ve been shopping before,” I mutter.
“I have, but this is the first time ever I get to pick anything out,” she says, pushing me aside to take control of the wagon. “Rush would pick everything out, getting me stuff he liked best. I had no idea there were this many choices.”
Christ.
“This store has everything, huh?” she adds as we head down the make-up aisle. I don’t say anything as she mulls over eighty-seven tubes of lipstick. Fuck, I’d buy every single one if she decided she liked them all. Then I’d kiss her like I really want to and smear those colors all over her pretty lips.
“What do you think about make-up?”
“I think it looks awful on me.”
Again, she smiles and I lean against the wagon taking it all in.
“I bet,” she replies as she dumps a few things into the wagon. “I never learned how to put it on properly. I always felt like I put so much on that at times I resembled a clown or one of those guys from that band Kiss.”
Unable to stop myself, I let out a laugh.
“What else do you need?” I ask, watching as she throws a tube of red lipstick in the wagon. My eyes dart to her lips and I imagine what they might look like painted that shade. She might not know her favorite color yet but I know now mine is undoubtedly red.






= Stay Connected with the Author =
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Book Bub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1

= Cover Design Credit =
Cover Designer: JB's Cover Obsession Design

Model: Jonny James http://bit.ly/2EGkxag

Photographer: Wander Pedro Aguiar http://bit.ly/2kC7aKa



Other books in the series:


Drifter book One:
US:  http://amzn.to/2diAbdl




Wanderer Book Two
US: http://amzn.to/2pWdIql


Preorder Loner book four: