Release Blast: Dishonorable by Natasha Knight

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Dishonorable by Natasha Knight is NOW LIVE!

“Riveting, suspenseful, emotional– Dishonorable is an unforgettable symphony of words that will have you glued to your kindle, closed off to the world, to devour every last drop.” ~ Hilary, The Read Report

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Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2naHeGX
Amazon Universal: myBook.to/dishonorable
iBooks: http://apple.co/2niaw5A
B&N: http://bit.ly/2n5wcmj
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2mF44ZO

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Blurb:

Sofia
I knew little of Raphael Amado’s history with my family, but when he turned up on our doorstep demanding restitution, my grandfather quickly conceded. That restitution? Me.
Six months later, on my eighteenth birthday, Raphael came for me. He stole me from my home, taking me to his Tuscan estate, where from the crumbling chapel to the burnt-down vineyard, to the cellar that haunted him, the past stalked him like a shadow. It waited for him, hid behind corners for him and trapped him at every turn.
As much as Raphael’s cruelty terrified me, his darkness seduced me. But in the end, it was his tenderness that devastated me.
Raphael
Sofia came to me like an offering. Like a virgin to be sacrificed at the altar. But truth was, her grandfather betrayed her. I guess we had that in common. He’d screwed me too.
I knew hate. I’d vowed vengeance. This was never supposed to be about anything else. But in the end, her innocence broke me. The very thing I would destroy, destroyed me.

Review:

 Riveting, suspenseful, emotional– Dishonorable is an unforgettable symphony of words that will have you glued to your kindle, closed off to the world, to devour every last drop.

I simply could not pull myself away from this book. The sexual tension was palpable and so damn hot! The senses of betrayal, hurt, fear, lust rolled together to pull the words off the page and took hold of me. I knew and loved these characters, and I am so sad that it is over. There is a real feeling of loss.

Raphael was sex on legs. Demanding. Controlling. A dark-haired, dark-eyed seducer. This complex character was multidimensional and had you loving and hating him in the span of a page.

Sofia. This girl! You watched as she went from girl to woman, by little choice of her own. And in the end, I had a sense of pride in her. The true light to his darkness.

5 Five-Alarm, blazing stars for Dishonorable. I truly hope this isn’t the last we see of these characters. I would love to have a peek inside Damon and Lina.

* I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Reviewed on behalf of The Read Report. *

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EXCERPT:

After the evening in Civitella in Val di Chiana, I doubted Sofia would appreciate that we’d be married in the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence, alongside the resting places of Michelangelo, Galileo and Machiavelli, before the eyes of God and a handful of witnesses and fucking throngs of tourists. Tourists were unavoidable this time of year. I could almost tolerate them.

It had taken an exorbitant contribution to book the basilica, but it only concretized my thinking. Money was what everything came down to and that included the church. But I had to admit, this was a magnificent display of devotion and art, even if it was wasted.

I stood at the altar, waiting for my bride. The rope did little to keep curious visitors at bay. Beside me stood Eric as witness and another man arranged by my attorney. I didn’t know who he was. In the front pew sat Sofia’s grandfather, the great Marcus Guardia, his expression unreadable. At his side sat Lina. Smaller than Sofia but not by much. As pretty as her. The old man had kept his end of the bargain after I’d signed the amended contract. Across the aisle sat Maria. I hadn’t invited anyone else to the wedding.

About two dozen strangers, worshippers who most likely were not expecting a wedding, dotted the other pews, giving the appearance of being guests. The priest cleared his throat and made a show of checking his watch.

It took another five minutes before the doors were opened, and someone stepped in to signal the music. The organist began to play the wedding march, and I took a moment to straighten my tie. I’d worn black on black. It was fitting.

Two men secured the large doors of the worshippers’ entrance. From the waning sunlight outside, I could make out the two forms, the white of the dress casting a sort of halo around Sofia. Beside her stood my brother. My fucking brother. Tall and proud in his suit, Sofia’s arm tucked into his. I could almost see him patting it, telling her it would be all right. Reassuring her when he had no business to.

I didn’t know when she’d asked him to walk her down the aisle. I understood she didn’t want her grandfather. That made perfect sense. But this? It pissed me off, actually.

The organist started the march again, and they took their first steps. Once they stepped fully into the church, I could make out their faces. My brother, for all his support of a few nights ago, now condemned me with his gaze. I wondered how much he knew. How much she’d told him.

Sofia gazed at the floor. Her veil shielded her from me until she was about a third of the way down the aisle. That was when she hesitated. Damon paused too, then whispered something to her. She seemed to take a full minute to compose herself, and before my very eyes, she straightened, standing taller, her spine straighter. She looked directly at me.

I met her gaze, felt the unnatural chill inside her eyes, accepted the accusations she threw like grenades. But she had never looked more beautiful to me than in that moment.

The dress fit as if it were made for her, hugging her delicate curves, the antique veil with yellowing edges not quite concealing her but adding an almost ethereal air to her, to her beauty. Her hair had been intricately braided, only a few soft strands falling around her face, over her shoulder, and her golden eyes shone as if covered over by a layer of ice crystals.

She never shifted her gaze. Never faltered again as Damon walked her toward me. As he faced her, the look they exchanged made me fist my hands at my sides. It wasn’t attraction or affection, not more than that of friendship, but it seemed as though a bond had been formed between them, and I knew in the way he looked at me, the way he looked at her, that he knew what had happened between us. What would happen still.

I hated him for it in that moment. I hated him for having something of her that I did not. That I never would.

My brother lifted her veil and gave her a gentle smile, a kiss on the cheek. A whispered word. I’d fucking kill him for it.

He then turned her to me.

Tears didn’t shine in her eyes. Her lip didn’t tremble. When she looked up at me, all I saw was hate. A hate that came from betrayal. From a budding trust destroyed.

And in spite of it, or perhaps because of it, she took my breath away.

I turned her toward the altar and stood quietly by her side, listening to her breathe, listening to the priest but not hearing his words. Hearing her quiet “I do.” Speaking my own. Catching the slight tremble of her hand as she handed her bouquet of blackest lilies—appropriate if not dramatic—to my brother, who remained by her side. She then faced me again, and I took her hand. From my pocket I retrieved her wedding band. A ring of thorns made of iron, black and rounded to slide onto her finger, jagged to remind her of her place.

She looked down at it once it was fully seated on her delicate finger, and I wondered what thoughts circled her mind.

The priest cleared his throat, and I wanted to slap him. To tell him to give her time. To let us be.

Sofia met my gaze. I handed her my ring. She took it, and I held out my left hand. As she slid the serrated ring onto my finger, she gasped, hesitating at the sudden sight of blood, faltering.

Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide when she met mine.

“Do it,” I said.

She shifted her gaze back to my hand and dragged the spiked band upward, her eyes now fixated on the lines of red that appeared along my finger. The first dark droplet fell, soiling the snow-white of her dress, and when she pulled her stained fingers away, she looked up at me again, the ice in her eyes different, less cold. Confused now. Lost.

Lost again.

I gripped the back of her neck and forced her attention back to the priest who had gone a little pale at the blood.

“Finish it,” I spat.

He met my gaze, swallowed, fumbled with his Bible—fucking idiot—and then pronounced us husband and wife.

I kissed my bride with a hunger that would devour her. A warning to her. A promise of what would come.

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About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author Natasha Knight writes dark romance as well as spanking romance in a variety of genres including contemporary, paranormal, post-apocalyptic, science-fiction and fantasy. She is a #1 Amazon Bestseller in multiple categories forever searching in every story for that single most important element of love. All of her stories contain at least one kinky Alpha male, lots of dirty talk and a well deserved happily ever after.

Connect with Natasha:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Natasha-Knight-Author-Page-386742471394951/?ref=hl
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Website: http://www.natasha-knight.com/
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6478732.Natasha_Knight

Release Blitz: Take Me Back by Meghan March

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TakeMeBack_FrontCoverWe fell in love on a beach, got married in paradise, and I carried her off into the sunset. It should have been perfect, but saying “I do” doesn’t guarantee a happily-ever-after.

Two years later, I barely recognize either of us behind the walls we’ve built.

It’s time to bring it full circle. Back to a tropical paradise. Back to find out if we can still make this work.

I’m not willing to give her up, but to save us, I have to risk everything.

Two damaged people.

Countless secrets.

The fight of our lives.

We might be broken, but we’re not done.

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Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

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Release Blitz: We Said Forever by Marie James

 

 

Title: We Said Forever
Author: Marie James
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 15, 2017
Blurb

Rock bottom.They say the only way to go from there is up, but what is “up” when you’re born into someone else’s rock bottom?

At ten, football became my first love. It’s what got me out of the house away from my self-destructive family. My love for football landed me at Las Vegas University with a full ride scholarship, and the orange on my jersey was my favorite color…until my eyes landed on the red dress Fallyn wore the night we met.

At twenty-one, I jumped off the cliff into the unknown the second Fallyn McIntyre danced in my arms at a party. I had the greatest girl in the world and the opportunity to play college ball every Saturday. My rock bottom was looking up, thanks to my two first loves.

Parties, sex, and football—life was perfect. But one drink too many, and my world came crashing down. When I chose pills over my second love, my head told me it was the best decision I ever made. The pills keep me warm and protect me from the distance Fallyn created. Percs don’t judge me. They make me feel alive. 

Threes.


They say the best things come in threes, but one leads to a stable future, one is my salvation, and the other drags me to hell—a hell I’d willingly burn in for eternity…if it weren’t for my second love.

 

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Excerpt

Turning to face the guy who is either too stupid or too drunk to take a hint, my eyes land on the handsome face of a tall blond with the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.The smirk on his face clearly indicates he believes I should be impressed. And I am. There’s no doubt about it. I’m completely fascinated by the ego this douchebag emits with one simple look. Without a word, I let my eyes trail from the top of his purposely mussed hair that probably took longer to fix than mine to the orange chucks adorning his big feet.

He allows the perusal, awaiting my approval. Cocking an eyebrow at his blatant, pompous attitude, I push his hands off my hips.

“Not a chance, buddy,” I say before turning back toward the kitchen.

My legs tremble, wobbling on my already unsteady heels. I release a long, slow breath, hoping he disappeared into the crowd. The last thing I need is for him to notice the way my eyes lingered on his stubbled jaw and the muscles of his chest even his clothes can’t hide. I’m almost certain he could sense my quick, unmasked arousal. One look was all it took for this man to creep his way under my skin and throb in my core. He’s got self-entitled, bad boy, asshole written all over him—character traits I would have dropped anything for a few years ago. Not today, though. Those are flaws I left in Utah when I graduated high school.

The same firm grip reaches for me again, wrapping all the way around my body and pulling my back against an incredibly strong chest.

I close my eyes for a moment, allowing only a second of contact before turning around and readying my hand to slap him across the face for taking such liberties without my permission—just another alpha asshole attribute that used to make me swoon.

“You need to get your—”

His finger covers my lips, preventing me from getting my words out. My attempt at what I’m sure was going to be a very eloquent threat against his manhood falters as he pulls me closer to his body. His leg somehow finds its way between mine as he squats a couple inches to decrease the differences in our height.

The strong hand that has reached for me twice tonight is around my back, fingers splayed against the thin red fabric. The finger that halted my words trails down the column of my damp neck before gripping around at my nape. Gooseflesh follows the trail, racing over my fevered skin. He holds me against him, guiding me to the rhythm I hated until this very second. Like the traitorous slut she is, my body molds against him, every soft inch against his hardness.

“I don’t,” I begin again, only to have his hand leave my neck to push another finger against my parted lips.

I watch, enthralled and utterly stupid, as his bottom lip rolls between his teeth at the same time his thumb sweeps over mine.

I cave, wholeheartedly capitulating to the moment. Ignoring the warning bells going off in my head, screaming at me to bolt through the front door and not look back, I grip the silky athletic fabric of his jersey and pull him closer. A knowing grin lights his face and sparkles in the crystal blue of his eyes.

One song blends into another as our bodies close every millimeter of distance. No words are spoken as the countdown begins. No promises are made when the clock strikes midnight. No way I’ll survive this man when his breath becomes mine. No chance I’ll see him again when swaying all night turns into dancing tongues. No possibility of keeping my promise of no bad boys when one hand grips my nape and the other squeezes my ass.

Alcohol has never really been my thing. The memory of the first time I drank heavy liquor in high school is enough to make my stomach sour, but the bourbon on this guy’s lips is the perfect mix of sweet and spicy. It’s, hands down, the most satisfying thing I’ve tasted since the ice cream I had after getting my tonsils removed when I was seven. I savor every fraction of a second, every slow glide of his tongue against mine, each time his lips pull back a fraction and turn up to smile against mine.

Without so much as one spoken word, this man has managed to master my body, persuading it to beg for more, coaxing whimpers from my mouth when he pulls away, only to ensure it pants a seductive moan when those skilled lips find my neck.

 

Author Bio
Marie James is a full-time working mother of two amazing little boys and wife of almost 13 years. She enjoys reading in her spare time, and diet coke is always near. Central Texas is where Marie calls home and has lived most of her life. With 13 published books under her belt, she has no desire to stop writing anytime soon and has dozens of book ideas to keep her busy.
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Excerpt Reveal: His to Seduce by Stacey Lynn

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His to Seduce by Stacey Lynn
Publication Date: March 21st, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Loveswept

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Synopsis:

An honorable man who’s lost his way . . . A career woman who hides behind her button-up suits . . . Unexpected romance is the specialty at the Fireside Grill as Stacey Lynn’s captivating series comes full circle.

Becoming an ER doctor had been David McGregor’s mission ever since he could remember. But after tragedy strikes at his hospital in Chicago, David runs away from the guilt—all the way back to Latham Hills, Michigan, where he takes a job tending bar at his childhood friend’s restaurant. That’s how he meets Camden Reed, and the way Camden refuses to give him the time of day should be a turnoff. Instead, he’s drawn to her tough, tightly wound exterior, and soon David realizes that he has a new mission: to see her tightly wound beneath him.

Camden’s fighting tooth and nail to resist the desire she feels for David. Growing up dirt-poor, raised by a single mother, she worked twice as hard to get where she is today, and she doesn’t have any patience for the kind of guy who’d give up a decent paycheck to sling drinks. But when the sexual tension finally combusts between the sheets, Camden discovers that people aren’t always what they seem. As David pushes her past her limits, Camden begins to loosen up—and to trust that, when she falls, there will be someone waiting to catch her.

Excerpt:

“Please,” I whispered, and leaned into his palm now cupping my cheek. His hands were strong. Long, tanned fingers that had made me think of naughty things like this for months.

In the darkness, I saw a flash of his white teeth. “I like it when you beg. When you need me.”

Tonight’s need was selfish. A moment to forget the loneliness. A moment to take what I’d been too chicken to go after for months even though it was right in front of me.

He’d been right before my eyes, flirting relentlessly and trying to break me down. Tonight, I was tired of fighting the pull I’d felt for him despite how wrong I knew he was for me. This was one night. A moment of wildness I didn’t usually indulge in, but who didn’t enjoy getting laid at a friend’s wedding? It was almost a requirement.

His hands dropped to my knees, spreading them wide so he could step in between them.

His fingers teased my thighs, running up and down my bare flesh until I shivered from the softness of his touch.

My eyes were half-lidded when I forced myself to look at him. I saw only his lust for me, and my heart rioted against my rib cage.

Damn . . . he wanted me. It was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

One of his hands left my leg and cupped the back of my neck. He pulled me to him until our foreheads touched.

“I want this,” he said, his voice thick and gruff. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want it.”

“Tell me you want me.”

I couldn’t. A long time ago I swore to myself I’d never be vulnerable again. I certainly wasn’t about to make that admission when all I currently wanted was a night of pretending and forgetting.

“Camden, I want you to know that when I sink into you, when I push your panties to the side and run my fingers through your wetness, this isn’t a one-time thing for us. This is the beginning.”

I shivered again. From his words, his promise—something I so desperately craved but was too terrified to take hold of.

I shifted my hips, pulling him to me until his erection brushed against my center.

“Tonight.” I gasped as he rubbed against me in the perfect spot. “It’s all I can promise.”

He chuckled, moving his mouth against my cheek, down to my jaw and my throat. “We’ll see about that.”

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Check out the other books in the series:

His to Cherish, Book 3:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ebU5mL
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2f88Ivz
iBooks: http://apple.co/2ffw4Me
Nook: http://bit.ly/2fbYRD6
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His to Protect, Book 2:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fb8n9i
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His to Love, Book 1:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2e0wSse
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2eSK4Pi
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Google Play: http://bit.ly/2fbbRIH
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About the Author

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Stacey Lynn currently lives in Minnesota with her husband and four children. When she’s not conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or on the boat with her family enjoying Minnesota’s beautiful, yet too short, summer.

She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.

If you would like to know more about Stacey Lynn, follow her here:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/staceylynnbooks
Twitter: @staceylynnbooks
Website: http://www.staceylynnbooks.com
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2g3Wiqp

Cover Reveal: Heph by Elda Lore

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Series: Modern Descendants 
Author: L.B. Dunbar writing as Elda Lore
Release Date: April 3rd, 2017
 

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Phyre has a haunting past. The girl without a last name and fire in her hands burns with a history of destruction to save herself. Solace is finally found in the cozy comfort of Hestia’s Home, a place for women who need hiding. Just like her five surrogate sisters-in-solitude, Phyre yearns to extinguish memories and rekindle her spirit. Her plan blazes forward until he arrives. 

Hephaestus Cronus considers himself an ugly man. A near-death accident left him disabled but not without heart. His gratitude lies with the protection of his foster mother, Hestia. Running from a failed relationship, Heph only desires the familiar fires of the hearth at her home. Burned from the heartache, Heph never expected to spark a new flame in the rose-bud-cherry-haired girl missing a name. 

This modern tale of Hephaestus, the metal working god, rights the wrong of a crippled man failed at love. Here the flaming passion he deserved as an under-recognized god is written in a new fashion with the fiery spirit of a woman who ignites true love between these twin flames.
 
 
 

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A writer of mythical worlds in modern times, I’m the alter ego of contemporary romance author, L.B. Dunbar. Learn more about me at: www.facebook.com/eldaloreauthor

 

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Release Blitz: Immure Diaries (part 1) by H.Q. Frost

Title: Immure Diaries – Part I
Author: H.Q. Frost
Genre: Romantic Suspense
A chance encounter puts Akela Dietz in a stupor for the first time in years. When the encounter happens again and again, she becomes leery of the attractive Brit that puts a beat back into her heart.

Malcolm Corpseknot III is peculiar, too good looking to be true, and a trained killer. When his scope is set on Akela, he’s not sure if he wants to hit or miss. 
She’s a force to be reckoned with, already having given up on life, and she’s going to be the death of him. If she doesn’t end up dead first.

“Who are you?” she demanded answers, not realizing he was pulling her between two buildings.

“I told you, I’m Malcolm Corpseknot the third.”

Realizing she was being led to a shaded alley, Akela opened her lips to scream and he slapped his hand over her mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the promise was breathed softly into her ear. “Listen to me.” His lips were against her earlobe and his hand sat firmly clamped over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to lower my hand. Do not scream.” His eyes met hers, waiting for a grunt, or nod, or some indication of an agreement, but she didn’t comply. “I want to lower my hand, Akela,” he slowly spoke, staring her in the eyes. “Are you going to scream?”
Akela shook her head yes and he chuckled, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

H.Q. Frost is a fiction dictator that resides in Northeast Michigan with her busy family. She’s been writing since her teenage years as a hobby, but she decided to share her love with the world a few years ago! The exhilarating journey of the indie world is one she quickly fell in love with and she fan-girls when someone reads the fiction she’s created.

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