Publication date: April 27th 2015
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Letters to the Lost by Iona Grey
Genres: Historical, Contemporary, Romance
Release Date: 23rd April 2015.
1943, in the ruins of Blitzed London…
Stella Thorne and Dan Rosinski meet by chance and fall in love by accident. Theirs is a reluctant, unstoppable affair in which all the odds are stacked against them: she is newly married, and he is an American bomber pilot whose chance of survival is just one in five.
… He promised to love her forever
Sixty years later Dan makes one final attempt to find the girl he has never forgotten, and sends a letter to the house where they shared a brief yet perfect happiness. But Stella has gone, and the letter is opened by Jess, a young girl hiding from problems of her own. And as Jess reads Dan’s words, she is captivated by the story of a love affair that burned so bright and dimmed too soon. Can she help Dan find Stella before it is too late?
Now forever is finally running out.
Book Review ~ ‘Letters to the Lost’ by Iona Grey ~ 5+ Stars!
I cannot think of any words big enough to describe the pure emotion and adoration I have for this book. Iona Grey has created not only a beautifully crafted dual love story, but has infused it with such tenderness, heartache and inspiration that Stella and Dan’s story will stay with me for years to come.
Stella and Dan are from very different lives, and seeing their relationship develop through the letters that young Jess discovers and the flashbacks to 1943 were simply beautiful to read. I fell for them immediately, and my heart ached to know that their happy ending was out of reach. I was desperate to know what had become of these two people who loved each other so much, and for them to finally reunite. Through her part in trying to reunite Stella and Dan, Jess’ happiness soon became my own, and I fell in love with the broken girl who began to blossom with Dan’s caring emails, and Will’s attentive nature.
Both the present day scenes and those of 1943 were written to perfection. Everything about the period felt real, and I could see, smell and feel every place that Stella visited in war-time London. I felt her love for Dan as if it were my own, and wanted more than anything for her to escape her painful marriage and for Dan to beat the odds and survive his term as a pilot, so they could live their life together.
The outside world tries to pull them apart, but with Jess’ intervention, we see that maybe love can last forever.
A stunningly romantic story that had me in floods of tears, whilst denying it to those witnessing my emotional breakdown….Nope those aren’t tears, nope not crying, I just have an eyelash in my eye…or a hedgehog….
5+ stars ❤
*Review copy was kindly provided by the author through NetGalley*
Available for Pre-Order.
~ Goodreads ~
Withering Hope by Layla Hagen
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance.
Aimee’s wedding is supposed to turn out perfect. Her dress, her fiancé and the location—the idyllic holiday ranch in Brazil—are perfect.
But all Aimee’s plans come crashing down when the private jet that’s taking her from the U.S. to the ranch—where her fiancé awaits her—defects mid-flight and the pilot is forced to perform an emergency landing in the heart of the Amazon rainforest.
With no way to reach civilisation, being rescued is Aimee and Tristan’s—the pilot—only hope. A slim one that slowly withers away, desperation taking its place. Because death wanders in the jungle under many forms: starvation, diseases. Beasts.
As Aimee and Tristan fight to find ways to survive, they grow closer. Together they discover that facing old, inner agonies carved by painful pasts takes just as much courage, if not even more, than facing the rainforest.
Despite her devotion to her fiancé, Aimee can’t hide her feelings for Tristan—the man for whom she’s slowly becoming everything. You can hide many things in the rainforest. But not lies. Or love.
Withering Hope is the story of a man who desperately needs forgiveness and the woman who brings him hope. It is a story in which hope births wings and blooms into a love that is as beautiful and intense as it is forbidden.
Book Review ~ ‘Withering Hope’ by Layla Hagen ~ 5+ Stars!
A gorgeous book from Layla Hagen.
Withering Hope was a stunner of a story. I always know I’m going to get a book that knocks the socks off me emotionally when I read one by Layla Hagen, and ‘Withering Hope’ is no exception.
Aimee and Tristan’s story was an inspiring one. I always enjoy seeing how characters react psychologically to stress and unexpected situations, and seeing the hardships that Aimee and Tristan go through, as well as the positivity they cling to and portray to each other, was in turns sweet and heart-breaking.
Tristan was the perfect book boyfriend. I really admired him for his strength, and his determination to do right by Aimee and his boss, and not to take advantage of the situation. To see him promising Aimee that he’d do anything he could to return her to her fiancé was so bittersweet as we can see just how much that promise may cost him. I loved how their relationship simmered slowly, and came at a gradual and natural pace. I never once felt annoyed at Aimee for her devotion to her fiancé, and it was because of Layla Hagen’s brilliant set up where we becoming introduced to them through Aimee’s memories and you can see just how much they loved each other.
I absolutely adored this story. I cried, laughed and then cried again. Layla Hagen did an outstanding job at developing these characters throughout their traumatic experience, and made me really admire those who are in a fight for their life every day!
Manwhore by Katy Evans
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Contemporary
Release Date: 24th March 2015.
Is it possible to expose Chicago’s hottest player—without getting played?
This is the story I’ve been waiting for all my life, and its name is Malcolm Kyle Preston Logan Saint. Don’t be fooled by that last name though. There’s nothing holy about the man except the hell his parties raise. The hottest entrepreneur Chicago has ever known, he’s a man’s man with too much money to spend and too many women vying for his attention.
Mysterious. Privileged. Legendary. His entire life he’s been surrounded by the press as they dig for tidbits to see if his fairytale life is for real or all mirrors and social media lies. Since he hit the scene, his secrets have been his and his alone to keep. And that’s where I come in.
Assigned to investigate Saint and reveal his elusive personality, I’m determined to make him the story that will change my career.
But I never imagined he would change my life. Bit by bit, I start to wonder if I’m the one discovering him…or if he’s uncovering me.
What happens when the man they call Saint, makes you want to sin?
Book Review ~ ‘Manwhore’ by Katy Evans ~ 6+ Stars!
*sobs* My God, that was just…so damn amazing…cannot think! Speechless! *sobs* And that ending? Are you trying to kill me??!
‘Manwhore’ by Katy Evans has just made its way to my top favourite book of 2015. As a writer myself, I am insanely jealous of how Katy Evans has created such an incredible story, flawlessly mixing emotional and heartfelt scenes with great snippets of humour that made the story fun, real and oh so heartbreaking!
‘Manwhore’ tells the story of a young journalist, Rachel who loves writing more than anything. She is devoted to the failing magazine she works for, and desperately wants to save it from collapsing. In writing, she feels strong, and wants to spread so much good through her pages.
Now Malcolm Saint may ruin you for all other men, real and fictional. Since finishing this book, I have been wandering listlessly around, bemoaning the fact that Malcolm Saint will never walk into my life *sobs*. I loved the transformation he made throughout this book, and it broke my heart to see the hurt he hides behind a strong, sarcastic facade. Him and Rachel just complete each other, and I can’t wait to see how their relationship continues in the next book.
I swear this book has turned me into an addict! Fun, sexy, heart-warming and suspenseful, this is a must read!
6+ stars! ❤
*Review copy kindly provided by The Hot Bed at Simon and Schuster UK*
Silver Bastard by Joanna Wylde.
(Silver Valley #1)
Release Date: 7th April 2015.
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotica.
First in the new Silver Valley series from the New York Timesbestselling author of the Reapers Motorcycle Club Novels
Fourteen months. For fourteen months, Puck Redhouse sat in a cell and kept his mouth shut, protecting the Silver Bastards MC from their enemies. Then he was free and it was time for his reward—full membership in the club, along with a party to celebrate. That’s when he saw Becca Jones for the first time and set everything in motion. Before the night ended he’d violated his parole and stolen her away from everything she knew.
Five years. It was five years ago that Puck destroyed Becca and saved her all in one night. She’s been terrified of him ever since, but she’s even more terrified of the monsters he still protects her from… But Becca refuses to let fear control her. She’s living her life and moving forward, until she gets a phone call from the past she can’t ignore. She has to go back, and there’s only one man she can trust to go with her—the ex-con biker who rescued her once before.
Puck will help her again, but this time it’ll be on his terms. No more lies, no more tears, and no more holding back what he really wants…
Five years ago
Motherfucker that burned.
The shot was a double, and the fact that it’d come cradled between two beautiful, giant tits attached to a stripper with endless legs and a tight ass didn’t hurt one goddamned bit. Tequila hit my stomach, the alcohol shocking my system, and shit finally got real.
Fourteen months since the last time I’d had a decent drink—all but forgotten what it felt like, too. That sweet, harsh pain that comes from losing the surface layer of skin all the way down your throat? Gorgeous. Never felt better in my life, and that’s a fact. Helped that the queen of body shots had sucked me off right after we’d pulled up to the party.
Spent the last year trying to decide what I’d do first when I finally got out. Kept going back and forth between getting laid and getting drunk, but God apparently has a soft spot for assholes because we’d found one hell of a good compromise.
I’d been free nearly four hours now. Still felt like a dream. The California Department of Corrections took its own sweet time with everything, up to and including processing a man out. I’d spent half the wait wondering if the cockwads would change their minds or if the club lawyer had forgotten something. Figured they’d find some way to fuck with my head.
FBI, state cops, even Homeland Security—they all wanted a piece of my club, the Silver Bastards MC, and not a week went by inside that they didn’t try to cut it out of my hide. Guess they figured a prospect made an easy target.
Not fucking likely.
My old man died for the Bastards. If I turned, he’d haunt my ass the rest of my life because that shit does not stand in my family. I’d been born to wear a Bastard cut. And tonight? For the first time I finally had the right to show those colors off.
A hand slapped my shoulder, then a burly man caught me up in a hug so tight it hurt. My fucking ribs creaked.
“That patch feel right on your back, brother?” asked Boonie. He was the president of the Silver Bastards in Callup, Idaho, and I’d heard him call me a hell of a lot of things—but never brother. Felt good. Damned good. Until an hour ago, I’d been a prospect and I’d never gotten any special treatment because of my old man.
That’s how I wanted it.
“Best night of my life,” I admitted. He pulled back, and his face grew serious.
“Proud of you,” he said. “You did what you had to. Protected the club, took care of business. Painter told us how things were inside, how you took his back. You earned this, earned it with your life and your blood. I know you won’t shame this patch, Puck.”
“I won’t,” I replied, his words almost too much. Boonie grinned suddenly, then grabbed my arm and turned me toward the bar again.
“Drink up,” he told me. “Then find yourself some pretty little thing to play with, because tomorrow we’re ridin’ home. Your bike’s in good shape—took care of it for you.”
“Another shot, baby?” the stripper asked. She rolled onto her side, reaching out to catch my neck with her hand, pulling me in for a kiss. That brought me a little too close to her face. She was sweaty, and her mascara had started running. Didn’t smell that great, either.
“More shots,” I said, pulling away. I’d appreciated the blow job, no question. But she wasn’t exactly the fantasy I’d been jacking off to the last year and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t settle once I got out. I wanted someone fresh—someone clean and soft and sweet enough to eat. I’d play with her for a while before letting myself go, punching through all that softness until she screamed and begged for mercy.
Mouth, cunt, ass.
That’d been what got me through those long nights wondering why the fuck I’d let myself get caught.
Ignoring the bitch on the bar, I reached across and grabbed the bottle of tequila, chugging nearly a third of it down. Christ, there went the rest of my throat. Then I turned to look out across room. Four of my new Silver Bastard brothers had come down from Callup—Boonie, Miner, Deep, and Demon. Joining them were four Reapers and two Reaper prospects. They were here to welcome Painter, who’d gone down with me on a weapons charge. This sucked, but such is life. We’d been fighting for our clubs, so no regrets there. Through a combination of luck and well-placed payoffs, we’d managed to stick together for the duration of our time served. The clubs provided the funds and the attorneys—to protect them, we matched that investment with our silence.
Painter caught my eye from across the room, grinning. After so much time together I could almost read his thoughts. I gave him a nod, one of those chin jerks that speaks volumes.
Congrats to you, too, asshole.
“You havin’ fun?” a man asked. I looked down to find a painfully skinny, greasy little man missing half his teeth standing next to me. Tweaker called Teeny. His face was just a little too eager, his eyes a little too bright. Unfortunately, Teeny was our host for the night so I had to be nice to him. We were out in the middle of nowhere, tucked back in a canyon where this douche had somehow acquired a house. The Longnecks MC—one of our “allies,” although their loyalty was questionable—had a warehouse set up in a shop right next to this guy’s house.
This Teeny asshole wasn’t even part of the club . . . Apparently his brother Bax was patched in, though, so they used him as a pit stop. Something didn’t quite add up about the situation, but fuck if I cared. In the morning I’d be riding for home. With luck my future association with the state of California in general and Teeny in particular would be extremely limited.
“See anything you like?” he asked. “That’s my old lady, there. “You want her? She’s real good, welcome you home right.”
I shrugged, glancing over toward his woman. She was probably in her midthirties, I decided. Pretty enough, but she had a hard, tired look around her eyes that didn’t appeal. Not only that, she was wiry and skinny as fuck. Probably smoking meth to block out the fact that she had to live with this dickwad.
“No, she’s great but not my type,” I said, casually taking another drink of tequila. Wasn’t burning so much now, which in retrospect should’ve been a sign to slow down. Maybe things would’ve turned out different.
Shitty thing about time—only runs the one direction.
“What’s your type?” he asked. I shrugged. The day I needed some tweaker to find me pussy, I’d cut off my own cock and get it over with. Swallowing another drink, I glanced across the room, pointedly ignoring him.
That’s when I saw her.
Now, I fuckin’ hate clichés, and shit like this only happens in movies . . . but I swear to fuck, I think I fell for her in that instant. She was small, with long brown hair in one of those knot things on top of her head. Not dressed to show off her figure, either. I could still see she had a tiny waist, though, along with generous tits and the kind of round, healthy curves you just know will cradle your hips perfectly when you’re pounding her.
I had to have her.
Like, needed her. Now.
“Good call,” Teeny said. I ignored him, focusing on the angel I had every intention of owning just as soon as I talked her out of her pants. God, she was pretty. Kind of out of place, too. Not flirting with anyone, and not a ton of makeup. Just wandering around, picking up empties, and avoiding conversation. Fascinating.
“I’ll introduce you.”
Teeny walked across the room toward my Dream Fuck. I started after him, because I didn’t want the asshole speaking on my behalf. Then Boonie caught my arm.
“Heads‑up,” he said, his voice pitched low, difficult to hear through the noise of the party. “We think somethin’s going on with that guy. Don’t be afraid to talk him up, okay? Can always use good information.”
I nodded, wondering why the fuck Teeny had to pick me to buddy up with. Tonight was for relaxing, enjoying myself. Just looking at him made me feel dirty, and considering some of the shit I’ve pulled in my life, that’s an accomplishment. Another hand slapped my back, then Painter caught me by the neck, squeezing me as he laughed.
“Never ends,” he said. “Boonie cock-blocking you?”
I punched him in the gut—not hard. Just enough to make him back off.
“No, right now you have that honor,” I muttered, glaring at him. “Christ, we just spent a year together in a fuckin’ cell. Think we’ve covered everything, so let me get laid? Please?”
He answered by punching me back, and I reeled . . . damn, hadn’t realized how drunk I’d gotten. Still, I wasn’t about to go down easy. I swayed, watching him as our brothers started crowding around us. The wild gleam in his eyes—a mixture of almost manic happiness and pent‑up energy—matched my own.
“Take it outside,” Boonie said. “I got fifty on Puck.”
“Hundred on Painter,” Picnic Hayes, the Reapers’ president, answered and then we were bundled outside for the fight.
I couldn’t wait.
We’d sparred before, of course. Nothing but time to kill in the pen, so I knew Painter’s moves like they were my own— and he knew mine, too. We were a good match, could go either way. Neither of us had much in the way of formal training but we’d both picked up a fair amount along the way. Hell, I’d gotten caught in my first bar fight when I was fourteen years old, seeing as my pop wasn’t exactly Father of the Year material. Still loved the old bastard, though.
The sun was fading as we stepped outside, painting the sky in pinks and oranges shot through with smudged clouds. I paused a moment, struck by the incredible beauty all around me, and smiled, breathing deep. So fucking good to be outside again. Nobody knows what it’s like, trapped in a cell like an animal. Nobody but the guys who’ve heard the sound of those gates closing behind them.
Fortunately for me, I wasn’t exactly the first Silver Bastard to do time for the club, which meant my brothers got me. They knew what this was like.
“Okay, we got a circle here,” Pic was saying. I blinked, starting to process the fact that maybe boxing with Painter while I was drunk might not be such a hot idea. Of course, he was drunk, too, and the booze would numb the pain . . . “Fight goes until one of you is down or taps out. Time to make your bets, brothers.”
Boonie caught my arm, pulling me to the side and looking into my face.
“You ready?” he asked. I nodded sharply, because drunk or not, I wasn’t going to pussy out in front of my president on the same day I got my colors. I glanced across the dusty circle to see Painter, who gave me a friendly sneer. Laughing, I flipped him off, then shook my arms out, loosening up.
That’s when I saw her again. Off to the side, standing next to Teeny, who was talking rapidly and pointing to me. I frowned, because I really didn’t need or want that asshole on my side. Knowing my luck, the fucker would send her running. I nudged my brother, Deep, who was standing next to me.
“See that girl?” I asked, jerking my chin toward her. “Make sure Teeny doesn’t scare her off, okay?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Painter and I stepped into the circle together, and I felt the thrill of adrenaline cut through the haze of alcohol. My blood started pumping, pounding through me until I could all but taste it. Christ, but I loved to fight. Always seemed to clear my head, and I’d gotten good enough over the years that I won more than I lost. Inside, those skills had saved our asses, and I’d picked up my fair share of pointers from the very man I found myself facing.
Painter moved first, coming in with an experimental jab toward my stomach. This wasn’t a real attack, just him testing my limits. I’d had a lot to drink, which would slow my reflexes. So had he. That changed the baseline, something we both needed to feel out.
“Can’t believe they gave you a top rocker,” he said, taunting me.
“Try harder, old man. I know you too well.”
Painter laughed, then came at me again, suddenly. He punched me square in the stomach and I doubled over. Shit. I fell back and almost stumbled out of the ring, catching myself at the last minute. I heard the shouts of my brothers urging me on.
Oh, hell no.
No fucking way I’d lose a fight tonight. Painter could fuck right off, because he’d had his colors for years. This was my night. I owned this bitch and he’d just have to suck it up and deal.
Still staggering, I lurched forward toward him like I was out of control. Then I attacked, and this time I caught him. One hit, two. Three. Right in the gut. Painter gasped and I moved in for the kill.
Somehow he pulled himself together, catching me across the chin. My entire head rattled as I staggered to the side. I felt blood in my mouth, then found a loose tooth with my tongue.
I thought of the pretty girl I’d just seen, which pissed me off. The anger was good. Cleared my head. Didn’t matter if I won or not, she wouldn’t want to suck face with someone bleeding like a stuck pig. This wasn’t a fight—it was a cock-block.
Time to end it.
Painter waited for me, swaying. I’d gotten him pretty good.
He was definitely favoring his left hand, which was great news because he was left-handed. Lucky me. I was ambidextrous.
I launched myself at him, turning that to my advantage.
He tried to block me but his arm was weak. I landed a blow to his gut followed by one that caught the side of his cheek. Pain seared through my hand, parting the fog of alcohol.
“Dick,” he managed to gasp as I danced back, flexing my fingers. That last one had been bad—if I’d been any more off-center, I’d have a fist full of broken bones.
“You got him,” Boonie shouted. I stretched my hand again. Did I want to risk another head blow? I hadn’t even wrapped my knuckles. . .
I caught his chin again and Painter went down, falling hard. Blood dribbled from his nose and for long seconds I wondered if I’d actually hurt him for real.
Then he managed to roll onto his stomach, tapping out and flipping me off, all in one gesture.
“Congrats on getting your colors, Puck,” he groaned. “I’ll give you this one. Enjoy it while you can because next time I’m killing you.”
I staggered back, grinning and raising my hands once I realized he wasn’t seriously hurt. It’d been a lucky shot and we both knew it—we were well matched, could’ve gone either way. As I heard my brothers shouting in victory I didn’t care. This was my night. I had my freedom and my patch.
Still needed that girl, though.
I looked around and spotted her standing next to Deep. Teeny stood on the other side of him, looking all sorry for himself. She was hugging herself with both arms, obviously nervous, and I felt my smile fade. Shit. I hadn’t wanted her scared. I shook my head, wishing things weren’t moving so fast. Waving off the men crowding around me, I headed toward her, half expecting her to run off.
She didn’t, though.
As I came to a stop in front of her, she gave me a wavering smile, then spoke. “Can I help you find another drink?”
I took her arm and pulled her into my side, exchanging a satisfied look with Deep.
“Let me know if you need anything!” Teeny yelled after us, and
I felt the girl shudder.
“Christ, but he’s a nasty little shit, isn’t he?” I asked her conversationally, and she gave a startled snort of laughter. I liked the sound. Sweet and sort of innocent. Made my dick happy, that was for sure. Still, I didn’t want to fuck things up and push her too hard, because the skittish vibes were intense.
“Yeah, he is,” she agreed quietly, and I leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She smelled good—fresh and clean, just like I’d been fantasizing all those months inside. Fresh and clean and perfect.
I wondered what she’d taste like.
“They’re lighting a fire out back,” she told me, her voice soft. “By the kegs. Maybe we should go over there?”
Hmmm . . . I could work with that.
She tried to pull away from me then, but I caught her hand playfully, tugging her back toward me.
“I can’t get you a beer if you don’t let me go,” she pointed out.
Fuck. She was right. Still, I wasn’t about to let her get away that easy—knowing my luck, Painter’d swoop in and take her, just to fuck with my head. If anyone could pull it off, he could. Fucker was pretty in his own weird way—even I could see it. I couldn’t compete, not with the nasty scar on my face.
I’d just have to keep a close eye on her, I decided. Protect what was mine.
Meet Puck & Becca on April 7th!
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.
Congrats & Happy Release to Ella Fox! Strictly Temporary Volume #2 is LIVE! Are you ready for the conclusion to Exton & Arden’s story?
The conclusion to Arden & Exton’s story.
Just a Small Towne girl…
Raised on fairytales and dreams of true love, Arden Winger left for college with a smile on her face and a happy, hopeful heart. Fast-forward seven years and that small town is behind her, but not the baggage she’s been carrying since she left.
Just a city boy…
It’s not that Exton Alexander had anything against relationships—he just never had the desire to try. Not necessarily jaded, Exton considered himself a realist. Little did he know, the one woman that would change everything was about to rock his world. This Alpha male knows the second he lays eyes on her that Arden is special– now he just has to work past her defenses.
Opening the door, I find Dante and Sabrina on the other side. Swinging it wide, I smile broadly as I gesture for them to come it.
“Exton’s been out all day at a production meeting, but—“
“We need to sit down and talk.”
I’m shocked by the serious expression on Dante’s face, but instead of questioning him, I follow as he leads me into Exton’s living room. Dropping down on to a chair, I wait for him to fill me in. As Sabrina takes a seat on the arm of the chair and sets a reassuring hand on my shoulder, my stomach sinks. Something is wrong.
Raking a hand through his hair, Dante lets out a frustrated sigh. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to give it to you straight. Exton’s been arrested for assault. He’s in jail.”
Jumping from my seat I cry out in shock. “What the hell are we doing sitting? We need to go get him out!”
“There’s nothing that we can do until tomorrow,” He answers. “His bail hearing will happen in the morning. I need you to pack so that we can be there.”
Looking over at Sabrina, I try to comprehend what’s going on. “I don’t understand—what? Why would we need to fly?”
“That would be because he’s being held at the Small Towne police department.”
Book Review ~ ‘Strictly Temporary: Volume 2’ by Ella Fox ~ 5 Stars!
What a stunning conclusion to Arden and Exton’s story. What I loved in the first volume of ‘Strictly Temporary’ was how willing Exton was to show that his feelings for Arden were real and true, and he continues to show what a stunner he is in the second volume.
I loved seeing the story of Arden and Exton’s meeting and courtship from his point of view, and I had to laugh at his confusion over being rebuffed by Arden. Just seeing her spark from his eyes was wonderful as it really had me rooting for her even more.
The pain other past was something that I really wanted Arden to feel more comfortable about sharing, and in this book we see her heartbreaking admission to the treatment she received in the past, and I loved seeing the close network of friends that supported her throughout. Sabrina and Dante are the perfect set of secondary characters, and I loved how well developed their story was.
5 Stars for this beautiful conclusion to a wonderful journey with Arden and Exton.
Strictly Temporary (Volume One)
Strictly Temporary (Volume Two)
*$50 Gift Card*
*$25 Gift Card*
When she’s not writing, Ella indulges the gypsy in her blood and travels the country. Ella loves reading, movies, music, buying make-up, reading Tmz, Twitter and pedicures… not necessarily in that order. She has a wild sense of humor and loves to laugh. Her favorite thing in the world is hanging out with her family and watching comedy movies.
Have you met Q Mercer?!
Monsters in The Dark Box Set is ONLY $0.99!
**STRICTLY LIMITED TIME SALE PRICE ON COMPLETE TRILOGY**
From New York Times Bestseller Pepper Winters comes the highly acclaimed USA Today Bestselling Series: Monsters in the Dark.
#1 Erotica, #1 Romantic Suspense, #1 Thriller. Award winner for Best Dark Romance, Best BDSM, Best Dark Hero, and Best Strong Heroine.
This is a story of eroticism, horror, tragedy and ultimately undying and unwavering love.
Included in the following edition are:
TEARS OF TESS #1
“My life was complete. Happy, content, everything neat and perfect.
Then it all changed.
I was sold.”
Kidnapped. Drugged. Stolen. Tess is forced into a world full of darkness and terror.
QUINTESSENTIALLY Q #2
“All my life, I battled with the knowledge I was twisted… fucked up to want something so deliciously dark. But then slave fifty-eight entered my world. “
Q may be a monster, but he’s Tess’s monster.
TWISTED TOGETHER #3
“After battling through hell, I brought my esclave back from the brink of ruin. I sacrificed everything–my heart, my mind, my very desires to bring her back to life.”
Q gave everything to bring Tess back. In return, he expects nothing less.
**Not recommended if you don’t enjoy dark romance, angst-filled plots, and BDSM.**
“Worse than me?” he murmured. His voice held an edge, almost as if his question meant a lot more than what he asked.
Wanting to give him something, after all he did for me last night, I nodded. “A lot worse.”
He shook his head, eyes unfocused. Memories swirled in their depths and I wanted to chase him wherever he went. I wanted to know him. Would he ever let me get close? Was a slave allowed to help her owner, while letting him use her body? I didn’t know the rules.
Q finally released me, presenting the other package. “This is for you.” His jaw clenched as I held my hands out, accepting the large sketchpad and charcoal pencils. I opened it and couldn’t breathe. Inside, architectural graph paper—the exact kind I used in my university course—glowed fresh and new.
My eyes widened. “You remembered what I told you…that first breakfast when you kissed me.”
He sat straighter, tension rippling in his body. “I remember everything, esclave. I remember how you smell, how you taste. I remember how you feel inside and how terrified you were when I found you at Lefebvre’s residence. I also know things you haven’t told me. You secretly like what I do to you. You think you hide it, but I know that darkness in your eyes. It feeds me, calls to me.”
He fisted the covers, throwing them off me, exposing my body. “Why else do you think I can’t leave you alone?”
Signed copy of any of Pepper’s Books (excluding Box Set)
2 swag packs
3 ebooks (Winner’s choice)
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.