Title: Sergio: A Dark Mafia Romance
Author: Natasha Knight
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: April 23, 2018
Blurb
Iâm the first-born son of the mafia king. The favorite. Destined to rule, Iâm a dangerous man, a ruthless one. But in my world, you have to be.
Then Natalie stumbles into my life. Wrong place. Wrong time.
Twice, fate put her in my path.
Twice, fate placed the innocent lamb at the mercy of the monster.
I gave her a chance to walk away. Told her it would be better for her if she did.
But she didnât listen.
And now itâs too late.
Because Iâm not good. I never wanted to be. And I wonât let her go anymore. See, Iâm not the hero. When I touch her, itâs with dirty hands.
I know my reckoning is coming though. I know Iâll burn for the things Iâve done, the sins Iâve committed. And I donât deny hell is where I belong, but I want my time first. I want my time with her.
Sheâs mine.
Forever.
No matter what.
Authorâs Note: Sergio: a Dark Mafia Romance is an intensely emotional, steamy and dark standalone romance set in the Benedetti Brothers Mafia world. Be prepared: this is not a traditional romance.
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Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance, Natasha Knight specializes in dark, tortured heroes. Happily-Ever-Afters are almost always guaranteed, but she likes to put her characters through hell to get them there. Sheâs evil like that.
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Title: Flesh into Fire
Series: Original Sin #3
Authors: JA Huss & Johnathan McClain
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: April 17, 2018
Blurb
Payback is owed.
And Maddie Clayton is going to collect. This time Carlos and Logan have gone too far. People are dead, lives have been changed, and sheâs had enough. Plus, sheâs got the Devil on her side, so when an enemy turns into a friend with an idea of how to take Carlos down, sheâs in.
Tyler Morgan has been fighting back his whole adult life. Heâs ready for anything when it comes to payback. But endangering Maddie canât be part of the deal. Unfortunately for him, once Maddie gets an idea in her head, thereâs no stopping her.
Her debt has been paid in blood and she wants revenge.
His fight is still there, but now heâs got more at stake than himself.
The end is coming.
But even if they win against Carlos, they can still lose each other.
TYLER
I roll our interlaced fingers over so that I can see the back of her hand. Itâs strong, but delicate. Long fingers and white skin. Veins that tense with the clench of her grip. Freckles. Just a few light, faint, perfect freckles.
I have the same thought I had the other day. That I want to learn her. Her body. Every millimeter of her. I want it burned into my brain. I want to imprint her into my memory before she goes. I want to study her. I want to have a PhD in Maddie Clayton.
I let go of her hand and stand up, turn to face her and then kneel down.
âWhat are you doing?â she asks.
I donât say anything. Sheâs not wearing shoes, so I start tugging at the toes of her socks and she giggles as I work them off her legs and then hold her precious feet in my hands, examining them. I stroke the bones that run along the top, ending at the tips of her toes, and I kiss each toe one by one.
I turn them over to inspect the scar I found the other day, and I give it a kiss. Then I spread her legs and slide in between them, popping my head up to give her a kiss on the lips, before I unbutton her jeans and draw down the zipper. She leans back, propping herself on her elbows, and shimmies her hips as I pull her pants down. Theyâre so tight on her, so fitted, that they draw her underwear along with them as I pull, and then the pants are off her body and on the floor, and her bare calves, and knees, and thighs, and pussy are there for me to explore.
Still leaning back on her elbows, she tilts her head to the side, presses her lips together in a tight smile, and raises her eyebrows at me.
I lift one of her legs and place my face right next to it. Like an archaeologist exploring the contours of a priceless, ancient artifact.
Her smell. Her smell will be the thing that I know I will hold onto most. Itâs always been that way for me. Smell is the most potent sense I have when it comes to triggering memories. When I smell cinnamon, I remember my mom. Because she was baking when she collapsed that last time after chemo. And so thatâs the smell I choose to associate with my final memory of her, as opposed to the antiseptic smell of the hospital. Because that wasnât her anymore anyway. Mom stayed in the kitchen. Only the shell of her stuck around for a couple weeks more in the hospital bed.
Anyway.
Right now, Maddie smells like freshly cut grass. Sheâs been packing and getting ready to leave all day, and itâs been weirdly warm of late, so sheâs a little sweaty. And that smellâthat pungent, dense, round smell of sweat on her skin that fills my nostrilsâreminds me of summer. Which I love. Because I suppose that means that for the rest of my life, thereâll be an entire season where every day all Iâll be able to think about is her. Even though I donât imagine needing a lot of prompts to steer my thoughts in her direction.
As I stroke my fingers along her leg, kissing as I go, and drinking in her scent with every breath, she drops down from her elbows, letting herself lie flat on her back, her legs dangling off the side of the bed. She traces her fingers up and down the line of her stomach, pushing her t-shirt up to the curve of her breasts as I continue my survey of her flesh.
Iâm discovering things. Things that no one else on earth besides me will know.
Her right calf appears just infinitesimally stronger than her left. Her left knee is the teeniest bit knobbier than her right. And when I kiss her behind either of her knees, she shudders through her stomach, causing her toes to crinkle.
As I pass the bend in her knee, I draw my nose along the inside of her thigh. She wriggles a teeny bit as my beard moves along her soft skin. And then my mouth is right at the brink of her entrance. I take my thumb and run it along the pink folds and she lets out a âmmmmm.â I tilt my head, studying my fingers as they massage her tender skin, and take note of what sound each gesture evokes from her.
Kissing tenderly on her opening causes her to growl from somewhere deep inside her throat. So I do. I kiss, and I let my warm breath signal my presence, but I donât want to penetrate her. Not this way. If she wants me to be inside her, I will happily oblige, but for now I just want to be here with her and hold her close.
And I will.
And I will hold her close in my thoughts every second that sheâs gone.
But more importantly...
I will hold her in my heart.
MADDIE
Some people search their whole life looking for that one place they belong. For that one person who gets them. Who brings them into their world, lets them fall easily into the pull of their gravity, and lets them just⦠be. Just exist. Quietly. Naturally. Freely. This is Tyler for me. The center of my universe. The man around whom I now orbit.
Not like a satellite, either. But like⦠like two things meant to be one. Like long ago something crashed into us, broke us into little pieces, and left us adrift. Floating in directionless space. Spinning wildly with no tether. And now weâve been pulled back together. And we circle each other, still spinning, but with the purpose of joining. Of becoming one thing again. Not because of tragedy, the way Iâd imagined when I sent that letter. Itâs not a lifeline of salvation connecting us now, but some force of nature we canât explain, or control, or bend to our will. Some law of the universe that dictates the fate of things.
We are connected by something more powerful than shared sorrow. And every moment weâve spent apart has been valuable. Necessary. Critical.
His mouth between my legs feels wonderful. I could close my eyes and enjoy it. Let myself reach the heights of pleasure.
But alone?
No. Iâm done doing things alone. Weâre connected now. And everything we do will be together.
So I whisper, âTyler,â as I caress his head. Run my fingers through his hair. Touch his shoulders. Slide my fingertips up and down the hills and valleys of his muscular arms.
He looks up at me, his eyes smiling even though theyâre half closed, even though his mouth is still working. His tongue still flicking against my pussy.
âCome up here,â I say. âAnd kiss my mouth.â
Now he smiles with his whole face. His hands plant on either side of my hips and he draws himself up to standing. He lifts his t-shirt over his head and undoes his jeans, letting them fall to the floor, and his nakedness reminds me that he has lived every single day of his time on this earth.
He leans onto the bed and eases forward. My legs open wider for him, welcome him between them as his cockâhard, and long, and readyârests against my clit, making me want him.
If we stopped right now, if he just rested his chest on top of my breasts, became nothing more than heavy weight as he closed his eyes, relaxed, and fell asleep⦠Iâd be content, happy, and satisfied.
And not because thereâd be more chances to do this later. But because itâs him I want. Not the sex.
He leans down, his hands on either side of my head now. Bending the mattress the way spacetime bends around a sun. And when his lips reach mine, my eyes are closed.
And I fall again.
I fall far, and long, and easily. The same way I drifted towards him. And as I drift, weightless, we kiss. But Iâm still connected to him. Always next to him. Because this is what it feels like to fall into someone, not away.
This is not me slipping down the mountain.
This is not me losing my footing.
This is me finding myself. In him. In us.
So when I reach my hand between my legs and place him right where he needs to be, he enters me. And all those broken, spinning pieces come together to once again create the thing we were always meant to become.
Our bodies move together. Perfectly synchronized. Like the dance of stars in space. His body is hot, and my body is hot, and the heat we create between us doesnât burn like fire but rearranges us. Like the molecules of two metals mixing to form the strongest sword made of the very best steel.
Our lovemaking is slow. And perfect.
We reach the heights of pleasure together. As one. And itâs the kind of climax that only happens once in a lifetime. The kind of release that means more than the way it makes you feel. It tells you who you are, and who youâre with, and exactly where you fit in the grand scheme of things.
He says, âI love you, Madison.â
And I say it back. âI love you, Tyler.â
We mold ourselves into each other as we relax and grow sleepy. Our bodies back together. His arms around me. My back pressed against his chest.
Our hearts beating. Keeping time.
Becoming what we were always meant to be.
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Releasing May 8, 2018
About the Authors
Two accomplished writers come together to create unforgettable sexy romance. JA Huss is the New York Times bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today bestsellers list eighteen times. Johnathan McClain is a veteran actor and writer whose work, either performed or written, is probably airing on at least one of the channels on your television right now. You can contact them on their website www.hussmcclain.com or find them at their social links below.
Title: On The Line
Author: Keyanna Butler
Genre: Young Adult Romance
Release Date: April 23, 2018
Blurb
On one ordinary day in Philadelphia, Mila and Kaleb meet on a train ride to school. One day turns into more, and their friendship evolves to first love.
When they realize not everyone is OK with this budding relationship, their love is shadowed, and their bond is threatened. Unaware of the impossible predicaments they each face in their lives, too many secrets threaten to tear their young lives apart.
With their hearts on the line and their worlds changing too quickly for them to catch up, Mila and Kaleb must decide who and what is most important. And they learn they'll need more than just love to survive.
On The Line is a young adult novel with mature themes. It is recommended for readers 16 and up.
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Author Bio
Keyanna is a simple girl living in mostly fantasy worlds. She's been writing since she was 13 years old, jotting down full length stories on construction paper and reading them to her childhood friends for entertainment. Sheâs a self-proclaimed dork extraordinaire and a library card carrying book nerd taking mental residence in the Wizarding World, coffee in an IV, collecting movie stubs like memories, and constantly contemplating what life would be like if she were one of the Avengers. Her hobbies include TV, sushi, Facebook, and incorporating movie quotes into everyday conversation.
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Title: The Invisible Thread
Series: The Unbreakable Thread #2
Author: Lisa Suzanne
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 23, 2018
Blurb
Itâs love against revenge in the highly anticipated conclusion of Lisa Suzanneâs #1 bestselling rock star romance series.
One decision was all it took for Ethan Fullerâs life to be flipped upside down and for Maci Daneâs twenty-year plan to fall off the rails.
Ethan tells Maci about the invisible thread that links two people destined to be together. The road isnât always smooth, but eventually the two people holding the thread will find their way to each other.
They found their way together, yet they keep finding themselves apart. Mistake after mistake, lie after lie, grudge after grudge...it may be too much for two people to overcome.
Are Maci and Ethan tied by the invisible thread, or will their thread break before they can find their way to happiness?
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Free in Kindle Unlimited
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Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Lisa Suzanne is a romance author who resides in Arizona with her husband and baby boy. Sheâs a former high school English teacher and college composition instructor. When she's not cuddling baby Mason, she can be found working on her latest book or watching reruns of Friends.
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Title: When With Rome
Series: Perfect Gentlemen #1Author: Natalie Gayle Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: April 23, 2018
Blurb
Iâve fallen in love in love with an escort.
I want him in my life.
But a future with him is just not possible.
Heâs opened my eyes and my heart to so many things.
I never knew a life with passion until I met Rome.
I never knew a man could do such wicked things to me.
And I certainly never knew love like I feel now.
Two weeks with Rome, and Iâm ruined for all other men.
Heâs worldly. Handsome. Passionate.
Heâs the perfect gentleman.
My eyes are wide open to a life with all its brilliant colors.
And I want that life with him.
But hereâs the thingâ¦
Rome is an escort and love isnât an option in his world.
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99c for a limited time
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Author Bio
Iâm a confessed readaholic and romantic junkie. In between staring at a computer screen and wrangling rambunctious character, I enjoy living the Gold Coast life with my very tolerant husband and two school aged children. (Iâm often in trouble for spending way too much time at my computer!).
I love nothing more than spending time with family and friends, all water sports, cooking, working out and curling up with a good book. I donât even mind a round of golf with the girls! My pet hates are cleaning and anything else that can be considered âdomestic dullnessâ. If I could have one wish it would be to be able to fit 48 hours into 24.
I tend to write what I like to read, books that have the following characteristics:
Above all, I like to be immersed in the story. Therefore, I want my books to give you the same feeling, when you read them. I want you to experience the rollercoaster emotions but end up feeling better and entertained for reading the book. I want you to be happy!
I love connecting with my readers. Please sign up to my newsletter and follow me on social media.
Happy Reading
Nat XX
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The Same Time How much of the past do you need to change to keep everyone you love alive? Twenty-one-year-old Stella, faces some tough life battles, and in her moments of need, she is visited and aided by a stranger, David. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll meet him again and again—always when her life is in danger—until one day, she meets him as a much younger man and this time, he doesn’t disappear. He doesn’t remember her or the many times he’s saved her life, but when Stella learns that his life is in danger, can she do what she must to return the favour? Can she keep secrets from the man she loves in her own timeline, knowing it might destroy their relationship? Or change the biggest mistake in her life she has yet to make? What good is having a time traveller as your best friend, if nothing ever really changes? Are you a book blogger? -- EXCERPT: This time travel dilemma means that Stella meets David a long time before she ever tells anyone in book one! Let’s take a look here! Chapter 1 Twenty-two years ago Pain runs through my core, and I grab my stomach. ‘This insurance card has expired,’ the receptionist says. I steady my breathing and nod. ‘My new employer, Cici’s Boutique, picked up the payments. Maternity is on it. Call and check.’ She studies the card and smiles like she feels sorry for me. ‘Take a seat, and I’ll get you when the paperwork is sorted.’ Hell, even I feel sorry for me. I thought I’d be resting in a private hospital with nurses to pass me crushed ice and a husband to hold my hand. The man attempts to make eye contact with me, so I keep my gaze on the swirly-yellow linoleum floor and fiddle with my T-shirt. ‘You in labour?’ His British accent instantly makes him sound trustworthy. Ha, a trustworthy man. I bite back a smile and nod but don’t raise my head. He leans toward me. He’s older than me, well over the age of thirty, perhaps approaching forty. Heck, everyone in a labour and delivery ward feels older than me, but lots of people have kids at twenty-one. I just hope he won’t look down on me. I would have judged me. People with money hide their age well. His brown chequered shirt and jeans are designer. They might even be next season, but I don’t recognise who. I’ve fallen behind on keeping up with the European designers these past few months. An expensive watch catches the light as he rests his arms on his knees. I check out his shoes. Must be next season’s. Despite being a little ragged around the eyes and sporting a few days of stubble—which of course he manages to make attractive—he’s totally hot for an older man. He’s the type to have a hot wife who only gained ten pounds during her pregnancy and is probably off labouring in a glamorous way. ‘You alone?’ he asks. One loud sob bursts from my throat, and the tears follow. I throw my hand over my mouth to stop any more weeping from escaping and calm my breathing before the next contraction comes. The man rises from his seat and timidly sits next to me. It takes two attempts for him to one-handedly pull a stubborn tissue free from the box on the magazine table. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. I meant while you waited on someone. Not alone in the bigger-world sense of things.’ He hands me the tissue and leans back. ‘I can’t reach my mom,’ I confess. ‘Someone’s trying to find her for me. She’s probably been thrown out of her favourite martini bar.’ I check my watch and tuck the faded leather strap back under the clasp. ‘Pamela should be en route to a much cheaper and more tolerant-of-drunk-people place by now.’ He nods. There’s not much you can say to that. I twist in the plastic, screwed down seat and give him my full attention. How is it people who have everything in life seem to have a sparkle in their eyes? I used to have that shine, until Nathan knocked it out of me. Literally. ‘Sorry for the tears. Must be the hormones.’ Or fear of the enormous task ahead of me. Another contraction rips through me. I bite my tongue and hold my breath to stop from screaming. I throw my hand out and he catches it, allowing me to squeeze his fingers until they turn white. ‘Don’t hold your breath. You’ll pass out.’ Author Bio: Brona Mills has defied the odds of overcoming dyslexia and failing High School English to become an author. Her first book, A Time for Everything, has been met with great reviews from both the romance readers and the sci-fi time travel lovers, that Brona kept the series going. Book two in the connected series, The Same Time is out 23rd April, and Brona's not stopping there. She is currently working on two other projects, a novella in the connected Time Series, and a new stand alone time travel novel with a dystopian element. GIVEAWAY! All The Right Moves A new standalone novel in the world of Love Me, I’m Famous series A reformed party girl on a mission. A broody, sexy as hell pub owner with a chip on his shoulders. A road trip through Ireland. Zero chances of them falling in love. Yeah, right. My name is Emma Hart and I like to date, a lot. My friends call me maneater, the men I dump call me slut. The double standard kills me, but relationships are not my thing. They never last, so why bother with the heartache? When my father suffers a major heart attack and confesses from his hospital bed that he’s terrified of dying and leaving me all alone, I decide to change my ways. There’s only one guy who stands a chance of melting my cold heart, a stranger who saved my life a year ago. I just have to find him. Help comes from the person I least expect. Rori O’Shea, the sexiest Irishman I’ve ever met (and also the grumpiest), offers to be my guide in Ireland. The catch? I have to be his date at his sister’s wedding. It should be easy enough as long as I don’t fall back into my old ways. Meaning, I have to keep my hands to myself and stay out of his bed. Never mind that the man is Adonis on Earth. Never mind that he can make me hot and bothered with one heated glance in my direction. I can and I will resist him or I’m not called Emma Hart. -- MEET THE CHARACTERS!
Author Bio: USA Today bestselling author M. H. Soars always knew creative arts were her calling but not in a million years did she think she would become a novelist. With a background in fashion design, she thought she would follow that path. But one day, out of the blue, she had an idea for a book. One page turned into ten pages, ten pages turned into a hundred, and before she knew, her first novel, The Prophecy of Arcadia, was born. M. H. Soars resides in The Netherlands with her husband and daughter. She is currently working on the Love Me, I’m Famous series. M. H. Soars also writes Sci-Fantasy under the pen name Michelle Hercules. Sign up for her newsletter and receive a free ebook, plus info on new releases, giveaways, book recommendations, and more: http://www.subscribepage.com/mhsoars_newsletter_signup_v2 Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY! The Devil’s Standoff Welcome to the birthplace of the Devil’s Revolver, where untold danger lurks for Hettie Alabama and her companions… The second book in the epic, magic-clad Devil’s Revolver series follows Hettie and her sister south of the Wall into Mexico, where they must unmake Hettie’s infernal mage gun while confronting a magic- and land-hungry army and a monster from hell drawn to the powers of the weapon. Hettie wants nothing more than to break her bond to the cursed Devil’s Revolver and find a way to keep her sister safe — but Abby’s indigo powers are growing stronger, and in the gated, walled village where they take refuge, nothing is exactly as it seems. Pursued by the Pinkertons, left without allies or guardians, Hettie has to rely on her own grit and determination to do the right thing, no matter the cost. This second installment of V. S. McGrath’s sweeping and high-stakes saga draws its truly unforgettable gunslinger heroine to her limits and ends with a satisfying bang. Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- Grab book 1 – The Devil’s Revolver – for only $1.99! -- EXCERPT: By midafternoon the following day, they were in sight of the Wall’s base. The monolith stretched over the landscape like a great black viper rippling over the sand. Hettie got a strange chill just looking at it. “The shoring crews are farther west,” Walker said, scanning the length of the Wall with narrowed eyes. “No border patrols in sight.” “Why are they shoring up the Wall?” Hettie asked. “Magic needs bolstering now and again,” Uncle explained. “The bigger the spell, the more magic and maintenance it needs. Nothing lasts forever.” “Yes, but why are we fixing it from this side if it was built to keep Americans out of Mexico?” “Walls work both ways. The folks on the losing side of the war don’t like a big old monument reminding them of their failures, so they make up their own story, make it look like we’re the ones in charge. They send out men and crews and make it seem like we’re doing something important, like we’re the ones keeping invaders out.” Uncle spat on the red earth. “Men in Washington gotta justify their wages somehow.” “Politics aside, there’s no way for us to get through,” Walker said. “The Division and the Pinkertons will probably be looking for us at the gates.” “So how do we get through?” “With help.” He picked up a stick and drew several runes on the ground, whispering an incantation. Then he broke the stick in half and tossed the pieces away. A sound like a muffled crack of thunder rolled across the land. Walker lifted his nose in the air like a hound scenting its prey. “He’s coming.” The wind picked up, whipping dust all around them. Abby cried out and shielded her eyes, and Cymon huddled close to her, growling a warning. Hettie put herself between her family and the rust-colored dust devil skating toward them. Walker and Uncle held their ground, unafraid even as the wind tore at their clothes and sand scoured their exposed skin. The wind died abruptly, and the swirling sand settled. From the tiny cyclone a thin man emerged, his skin dark and leathery, his face young but lined. He wore only battered leather trousers and a small vest. His neck was hung with so many charms and talismans on leather thongs, they formed a kind of shield on his chest. His hair was a matted, tangled mess festooned with bits of leaves and twigs. His eyes, the strangest shade of sulfur-yellow, glinted with devilry. “So, the prodigal son returns.” He said it with the precise enunciation of an Englishman, surprising Hettie. “I was beginning to wonder whether you’d ever come back, Woodroffe.” He raised his eyebrow at Uncle, who stood with one hand casually resting on the grip of his holstered sidearm. “You’ve grown your family, I see.” His roving eyes landed on Abby and widened. Hettie stepped in front of her sister, propping her hands on her hips and glaring. “We need safe passage into Mexico,” Walker said. “Heading home, hmm? You think your people will appreciate the new additions?” He gestured at the group. Walker growled, “What’s your price, Coyote?” The man scratched his head and paced in a tight circle. His movements went from smooth to jerky intermittently, as if a fisherman had his limbs on a line and was trying to lure trout as he reeled the bait in. “Last time, it was just you. This lot will cost you.” “How much?” Walker repeated tightly. The man Walker called Coyote picked at his nails. “Six months.” “That’s highway robbery,” the bounty hunter growled. “I don’t have the juice to carry all of you through safely. Half of that six will probably be sapped away just moving you through the Wall.” “You know it’s not my juice to give. Six months is impossible.” “Then how about him?” He tipped his chin toward Uncle. “Seems you’ve got plenty to go around.” Walker’s jaw firmed. “He’s not paying.” “Well, if not him, the little one will do.” He smiled, his teeth surprisingly large and white. “She’s bursting with juice. I can almost taste her from here.” Hettie had Diablo pointed at Coyote’s head before her fury registered. The derelict sorcerer stumbled back with a yelp as though he’d been smacked. “Come anywhere near my sister and I’ll blow that tongue out the back of your skull.” “Mother of— Walker, what have you unleashed?” He looked between the bounty hunter and Hettie, hands raised. “Who is she?” “Someone who doesn’t like you.” Walker’s lips twitched. “I’d listen to her, Coyote. She’s got an itchy trigger finger.” “It’s not her finger I’m worried about.” His gaze stayed locked on Diablo. “Three months of juice, Walker. And only because you’re a friend.” “Two weeks, you soul-leech.” “Twenty days, straight from you. That’s my final offer.” “Deal.” Walker spat in his palm and held it out. Coyote did the same, then took one of the many leather thongs from around his neck and wrapped it around his dust-covered wrist. He clasped Walker’s hand tightly, chanting in a language Hettie didn’t recognize, looping the strip of material around the bounty hunter’s forearm. “What’s going on?” Hettie asked Uncle. “They struck a bargain. That Coyote’s borrowing magic from Walker.” She frowned. “But . . . what keeps him from just taking all his magic?” Her hand twitched over the ghostly form of Diablo, readying to defend the bounty hunter. “It doesn’t work that way. Borrowing magic requires consent on both sides.” He notched his chin toward the men. “They can exchange no more, no less than what they bargained for.” The air shifted as if the wind had momentarily changed direction. Walker gave a grunt. Coyote breathed deep. His eyes dilated, and he threw his head back, mouth slightly open. Hettie could’ve sworn she saw him inhaling a wisp of bluish smoke. He held it and then released, shoulders sagging. His spine loosened, and he smiled as his eyes went back to normal. “Ohhh.” He reached for Walker and made to embrace him, but the much taller, much broader man pushed him away and hastily untangled the thong from around his arm. Dark bags hung beneath Walker’s eyes. Coyote laughed. “Gonna be a shame to give up all that lovely juice. Such a delicacy . . . ” “Just get us across the Wall,” the bounty hunter grumbled. “And do it before I let the girl shoot you.” “Of course, of course, a bargain is a bargain.” He scooped the ropes of talismans off his neck and laid them on the ground. They weren’t individual necklaces, but one long rope looped multiple times around him. He arranged the hoops on the ground. “Bigger,” Walker instructed. “The horses and the dog are coming with us.” Coyote looked like he was about to protest, but glanced once more at Hettie and reworked the rope pattern. Soon he had a wide circle of leather on the ground. “I’ve never encountered a mage gun like that,” he said without looking at her. “Metals have an odd effect on my spells. Unless you want to get stuck in the Wall and become a permanent part of the masonry, you ought to leave it behind.” “She’s not leaving it behind for you to put your grubby hands on,” Walker snapped. A lump formed in Hettie’s stomach. “Is that a risk? Can we get stuck?” “Stuck?” Coyote’s yellow eyes flashed, and he bared his teeth in a rictus of a grin. “It’s worse than that. If anything disturbs the spell on either side of the tunnel, matter will resolve around you, in you, turning you slowly and excruciatingly into part of it. I know men who’ve screamed for days as they turned to stone. Sometimes the patrol captures people trying to cross the border and melds them into the Wall halfway, leaving their limbs sticking out, wiggling to warn away others.” Abby squeaked. Coyote chuckled lowly. “That won’t happen, little one. Your uncle Coyote will not fail you.” “Where’s the exit point?” Uncle asked. He’d been silent up to now, which was odd for him. He usually tried to take charge wherever possible. “A day’s ride from Villa del Punta. You know, for the very low cost of three months, I could drop you right in the center of the village. I have an aperture hidden away there. Not even Raúl can find it.” Walker glared at him, and Coyote laughed. “I’m kidding. I thought you would appreciate the joke.” “So . . . is this like a Zoom tunnel?” Hettie asked. “It’s nothing like the Zooms,” Coyote said, irritated. “Zooms can’t go through the Wall. This is a spell I made all by myself. It’s the only way to get through the Wall around here, unless you’d rather go through one of the gates.” He eyed them speculatively. “Which I very much doubt. Only the most desperate of fugitives summon the Coyote.” “Are you sure this is safe?” Hettie asked Uncle quietly. She glanced at Abby, who’d been watching the strange man as intently as a jackrabbit sensing a nearby predator. “As safe as walking through solid matter is for anyone, I reckon.” Jeremiah scratched his nose. “Is this a drop and swim?” “Ah, you’ve done this before.” Coyote peered at him, then blinked. “Do I know you?” “Doubt it.” He looked away and kicked his toe in the dust. “Well, what’re we waiting for?” “Hettie, stay close to Abby, but don’t hold hands.” Walker pushed them together. “You’re going to jump in after me—Abby first, then Hettie, the horses and Cymon, and then JB. Whatever you do, keep moving. It’ll feel strange at first, but don’t stop, or you might get stuck.” Abby stared at the loop, her gaze blank. Hettie tapped her shoulder, and her sister blinked slowly up at her. “Like swimming,” she said dreamily. Author Bio: Vicki So, writing as V. S. McGrath, is a published romance author (as Vicki Essex) and has six books with Harlequin Superromance: Her Son’s Hero (July 2011); Back to the Good Fortune Diner (January 2013), which was picked for the Smart Bitches Trashy Books Sizzling Book Club; In Her Corner (March 2014); A Recipe for Reunion (March 2015); Red Carpet Arrangement (January 2016); and Matinees with Miriam (November 2016). She lives in Toronto, Canada. Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY! Evolved In 2068, androids are an integrated part of human life. Big Brother no longer just watches from the shadows. It’s in every household. Lloyd Salter has OCD issues with noise, mess, and he’s uncomfortable with human interaction. When his ex claimed the only thing perfect enough to live up to his standards was an android, Lloyd dismissed it. But two years later, after much self-assessment, Lloyd thinks he may have been right. SATinc is the largest manufacturer of androids in Australia, including the Fully Compatible Units known as an A-Class 10. Their latest design is the Synthetic Human Android UNit, otherwise known as SHAUN. Shaun is compatible with Lloyd’s every need; the perfect fit on an intellectual and physical basis. But Lloyd soon realises Shaun’s not like other A-Class androids. He learns. He adapts. Sure that SATinc is aware Shaun functions outside of his programmed parameters, Lloyd must find a way to keep Shaun safe. No one can know how special Shaun is. No one can know he’s evolved. -- EXCERPT: By the time my intercom sounded at nine fifteen the next morning, the butterflies in my belly felt more like stomping elephants. I buzzed the delivery team through and waited for the elevator to ping down the hall. Breathe, Lloyd, I reminded myself. My apartment was a spacious two-bedroom luxury unit on the top floor of the complex. Polished concrete floors, high ceilings, a bookcase as one entire wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the north-east facing wall. I liked the clean lines, minimalistic furniture. Well, I didn’t just like it. I needed it. Clutter and closed spaces made me anxious. My ex-boyfriend had found my apartment cold and clinical, but I found the whites and greys soothing, peaceful. Then again, he’d found a lot of things about me clinical… The knock on my door startled me, even though I’d been expecting it. I opened it to find two men and a rather large crate. The first man smiled. He was wearing grey suit pants and a navy sweater. He showed me his ID. “Mr Salter, my name is Myles Dewegger. We have a special delivery.” “Yes, yes, please come in,” I said, standing aside in invitation. The second man wheeled through the crate. He was dressed all in black with a military style haircut, and he looked as though he belonged in a SWAT team. He was a rather large man, with bulging muscles and perfect skin, and I had to study him for a second. No, he was human. “Nice place,” Myles said, looking around the large, open living room. “Are we all right to do this here?” I closed the door and took a breath to steady myself. I wasn’t accustomed to having strange people in my house. “Yes, of course.” I followed him and stood next to the couch. “I thought Mr Kingsley might have attended the delivery. I assumed incorrectly, it seems.” “Sasha’s a busy man,” Myles said with a smile. “Though if you’d prefer, I can call him and you can speak to him.” “No, it’s fine,” I said. I was now staring at the crate. Oh boy. It was well over six feet tall, three feet wide. Shaun was inside. He was right there. I swallowed hard. Myles read me. “Let’s introduce you, shall we?” I nodded. “Yes, please.” Myles and his helper, whose name I didn’t know, undid the crate and removed the front panel. My heart almost stopped. Inside, Shaun stood, packaged-in perfectly so as not to be damaged in any way. He was dressed in a dinner suit. A charming navy piece with a light blue shirt underneath his blazer, top button undone. His black hair was exactly as I’d ordered; short sides, longer on top, professional. His skin was warm ivory with a subtle hint of blush on his cheeks; his lips were pink and a perfect cupid’s bow. His eyes were closed, his lashes long. He took my breath away. The big delivery guy stepped in and unstrapped Shaun, then lifted him out. Right, that explained the need for muscle. Then he quickly wheeled the crate back to the front door, making the room neat again, leaving Shaun standing perfectly still in my living room. Myles glanced at me. “Everything look okay?” I nodded and had to focus on speaking so I could make actual sound. “So far, yes.” Myles smiled as he took out a small hand-held screen I recognised from the SATinc office. It was a control panel. He tapped on both screens, I entered in a personal code, and Shaun was officially added to my Wi-Fi. It was becoming so very real. Myles seemed completely unfazed and oblivious to the fact that I was in the middle of a monumental life event. He went on a spiel of specifications and diagnostics, developmental robotics, neural networks, artificial consciousness, proprioceptive sensors, and spatial cognizance, but all I could do was stare at Shaun. Breathe, Lloyd. Myles stopped speaking when he realised I wasn’t paying attention, and his pause made me look at him instead. He continued, “I’ll activate him, then we’ll require him to study your face for a few seconds. He has facial recognition, so once he recognises you as his custodian, he’ll be able to identify you anywhere.” “Okay.” “So if you’re out in public and you become separated, he will be able to find you.” For the strangest reason, I found that comforting. “And your voice. He’ll recognise that anywhere.” I smiled at Shaun, though he still had his eyes closed. “Are you ready?” Myles asked. I nodded. Myles held the small black screen toward me. He entered in a code and spoke clear and loud. “Please re-enter in your Wi-Fi code,” he said, averting his eyes while I entered my security code for Shaun’s wireless access. Then Myles added something else, and watching Shaun, he said, “Activate.” Shaun opened his eyes. They were the exact shade of blue I’d asked for. But he just stared blankly. Myles entered in more codes, then spoke to me. “Please stand in front of him until I tell you to move.” I did as I was instructed. Shaun was approximately an inch shorter than me, and he was even better close up. Being this close to him sent a curl of anticipation through me. I could hear Myles tapping on the screen and then Shaun’s eyes focused on me. He was scanning my face, and then he looked down to my feet and up my body. It set my blood on fire. Then Myles handed me the small screen and said, “Please read this out loud to him.” I let out a breath and looked Shaun right in the eye. “My name is Lloyd Salter. I am your custodian, and this is your home.” Myles took the control again and clicked on the screen a few more times, and something in Shaun changed. I saw it, the very moment it happened. He became aware. His gaze fell on me. “Hello, Lloyd,” Shaun said. His voice was a deep baritone, with a tenor that curled in my belly. “Hello Shaun,” I replied. My voice was barely a whisper. And then, throwing my world completely off its axis, he smiled. Not a perfect smile, but slightly lopsided in a very human way. If a simple smile could complete my existence, it was done. He was stunningly perfect. “It is very nice to meet you,” Shaun said. “Likewise,” I replied. I couldn’t stop staring at his eyes, and I swore the corner of Shaun’s lip twitched in an almost smile. “Is that normal?” I asked Myles. “He’s so… human.” Myles grinned. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How real they are?” I nodded, staring back at Shaun. So very real. “As I was saying before, he has the spatial awareness and object manipulation skills of a surgeon. He can lift heavy objects with ease, but he can also hold the finest, most delicate glass object with precision. He has social intelligence; he can recognise and interpret, process and simulate human affects and empathy. He is, without doubt, the most advanced A-Class synthetic android in the world.” Shaun tilted his head a little while he studied me, and I stared right back at him. So remarkable. “He’s been uploaded with extensive knowledge of all requested data,” Myles said, holding the screen out for me to see. I glanced at it but couldn’t take my eyes off Shaun for long. Myles continued anyway. “Literary histories, world current affairs, everything you asked for has been preloaded, but he can access any information you require. If it’s on the web, he can find it, and he can discuss, converse, debate whatever you want.” Wow. “Now, as for the personal companion aspect,” Myles went on. Personal companion aspect was synthetic speak for sex. “All lubricants must be silicone based, not oil based, though I’m sure you’re aware. He can self-clean but he might like it if you help him.” I looked at Myles and he winked. “Yes, he has likes and dislikes. Though he’s been pre-dispositioned to your psych evaluation so there are no conflicts. He enjoys conversation, attention, praise…, touch. Sex.” My heart rate took off. Breathe, Lloyd. Author Bio: N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn't have it any other way. She is many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don't let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words. She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things...but likes it even more when they fall in love. She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal. She's been writing ever since... Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY! ISAN THE WORLD HAS CHANGED. SCIENTISTS WARNED IT WOULD HAPPEN. Meteors devastated the Earth. World Governments developed plans to help surviving citizens. The United States disbanded and salvageable land was divided into our quadrants—North, South, East, and West—governed by The Remnant Council. Struggling to survive, seventeen-year-old Ava ends up in juvenile detention, until she is selected for a new life—with a catch. She must be injected with an experimental serum. The results will be life changing. The serum will make her “better.” To receive the serum, Ava agrees to join a program controlled by ISAN, the International Sensory Assassin Network. While on a mission, she is abducted by a rebel group led by Rhett and told that not only does she have a history with him, but her entire past is a lie perpetuated by ISAN to ensure her compliance. Unsure of who to trust, Ava must decide if her strangely familiar and handsome captor is her enemy or her savior—and time is running out. Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: When the bodyguard with the gun directed the weapon at Roxy, something dangerous ignited in me knowing my team would be next. This foreign existence in my core wanted blood. It wanted death. It wanted destruction. I became a monster. Helix transformed me into a shallow shell to servitude—a perfect model of ISAN assassin. I pulled my gun from the side of my boot and took aim. The bodyguard who had shot Roxy’s team went down first, followed by the others. Don’t look at their faces. Don’t make eye contact. But I did look at their faces, and I did make eye contact. Each guard held my foster father’s cruel face, his steel malevolent eyes. I saw the man who ripped the happiness out of my soul, who towered over me into submission, and molded me into a terrified little girl. For a heartbeat I froze, knees buckling, heart palpitating with trepidation and regret. I became that little girl. A rat, he had called me, and beat me until I stopped crying from missing my mother. No more. No more. I am no longer that petrified girl. Then, one after the other, as hunger for revenge drove me, as if each of the men was him, I shot them until they were all down. Author Bio: International Bestselling Author Mary Ting/M. Clarke resides in Southern California with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads Saga, happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother, and inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It was the reason she had to write one-Something Great. Why the pen name, M Clarke? She tours with Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book-No Bullies Allowed. Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter GIVEAWAY! |