Friday, December 27, 2013


The Viscount’s Vow - Synopsis

Amidst murder and betrayal, destiny and hearts collide when scandal forces a
viscount and a gypsy noblewoman to marry in this Regency romance, sprinkled with suspense, humor, and inspiration.

Half Romani, half English noblewoman, Evangeline Caruthers is the last woman in England Ian Hamilton, the Viscount Warrick, could ever love—an immoral wanton responsible for his brother’s and father’s deaths. She thinks he’s a foul-tempered blackguard, who after setting out to cause her downfall, finds himself forced to marry her—snared in the trap of his own making.

When Vangie learns the marriage ceremony itself may have been a ruse, she flees to her gypsy relatives, declaring herself divorced from Ian under Romani law. He pursues her to the gypsy encampment, and when the handsome gypsy king offers to take Ian’s place in Vangie’s bed, jealousy stirs hot and dangerous.

At last, under a balmy starlit sky, Ian and Vangie breech the chasm separating them. Peril lurks though. Ian’s the last in his line, and his stepmother intends to dispose of the newlyweds so her daughter can inherit his estate. Only by trusting each other can they overcome scandal and murderous betrayal.

“A brilliant tale combining Regency romance with exotic Romani culture.”

Goodreads Book Link -


Multi-published historical romance author Collette Cameron has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master's in Teaching. She only teaches part-time so she has time for her greatest passion: writing. Collette’s been married for 30 years, has 3 amazing adult children, and 5 dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You'll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list. 

Collette would love hearing from you.
You can also connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Goodreads, & Google+.

Why had Vangie hit him so hard? A welt, red and raw like a fresh branding, was clearly visible on his angled face. Standing before him, the intense, provocative glimmer in his eye sent a fresh dash of color across her cheeks.

“Ian. . .”

No, she would not apologize. He deserved it, the brute. 

Faith, why is he grinning? Was her new husband dicked in the nob? She frowned at him, inching her way backward. Perhaps he’s mad. Mayhap it wasn’t bad temperament plaguing the man at all, but lunacy. She sent a sidelong glance to the open wardrobe.

Where was her blasted dagger?

Clasping her hands before her, she warily watched him. A muscle flexed in his jaw. She gasped when he stole closer, his gait purely predatory. She sucked in another wheezing lungful of air. 

It was most difficult to breathe, or think, when one was being stalked.

Ian crept onward, step-by-step.

For every step he took forward, Vangie retreated until she was brought up short by the small bench she’d just vacated. She tried to skirt around it, not daring to take her eyes from him. Her hip grazed the dressing table, rattling the contents on top. Reaching beside her, her gaze fixated on him, she grasped wildly. Her hand closed on the handle of the silver hairbrush.

She sent it sailing at his head. He ducked, then laughed, a deep resounding echo in his chest. He was enjoying this, the cretin. She began tossing objects at him as fast as she could grab them.

Crystal perfume bottle. Engraved hand mirror. Jar of face cream. Jewel encrusted comb. Her wedding wreath. They all went careening past him.

He dodged each item, stealthy edging nearer. The floor was littered with broken glass, petals and leaves, globs of cream, and a puddle of perfume, which bathed the room with its citrusy scent.

In desperation, she tossed the last item, a filmy lace-edged handkerchief. A feral grin on his lips, he watched it flutter onto the rug, then raised mocking eyes to her.

The damned cur. He still laughed at her.

She frantically sought something else to throw at him. Ah, there it was. The jeweled dagger had been beneath the handkerchief the entire time. She snatched the blade, wielding it before her. He would gloat no more.

Ian’s gaze dipped to the knife. The lines of laughter on his face shifted into irritation. “Put down the blade.”


“Vangie, give me the knife.”

She shook her head, daring to take a step forward, the blade tilted at a dangerous angle. 

The metal glinted in the candlelight. She knew how to use it. Puri Daj insisted upon it.

He retreated a cautious step, his dark gaze narrowed and trained on the knife.

“I won’t be called a l√≥overni.”

Emboldened, she took another step his direction. No man, not even her husband, had the right to call her a whore.

His eyes slowly rose to meet hers, his expression unreadable. “Give it to me.”

His lips thinned, and he extended his hand, palm upward. “I won’t ask you again.”

A shaky laugh escaped her. “Not likely, my lord.” She angled the dagger in the direction of the adjoining door. “Now get out.”


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Thursday, December 19, 2013


Book Info:
Genre: Erotic Romance
Categories: M/F with HEA ending
Release Date: December 4, 2013
Publisher: MyLit Publishing
Format: eBook (paperback TBA)
Length: Novel, 57000 words

Buy Links:
Goodreads Link –

Giveaway Information – 3 ebooks of the prequel to Layers Deep titled Dazzled by Silver.
 a Rafflecopter giveaway

He needs her to save a friend.
She needs him to plan her revenge.
Their pasts scar them Layers Deep.
Their passion distracts them...
..and distractions can be fatal.

Tristan Cross is battling emotional demons from the past. He lives in a world where trust is earned, loyalties are tested, and love is impossible. That is, until he meets Allie Green. She’s the only woman who can help him find a kidnapped friend and to top it off, she captivates him. All he has to do now is persuade her to work for Cross Enterprises, his top investigations firm.

Allie Green is a rookie cop seeking revenge and she’s willing to sell her soul to get it. With an opportunity to use Tristan Cross's resources Allie calculates her time for payback. As vengeance boils her blood she can’t keep her mind off her new boss and Allie finds it difficult to keep her employment professional. With the mouth watering Tristan Cross distracting her, she struggles to prioritize an undercover job she’s been assigned and her hunger for revenge.

And when you’re ready to give up your life to save someone else, distractions can be fatal.

Note: This book is the first part of a Trilogy that is designed to be read in order. Tristan and Allie will get their happy ending but not until book 2. This book contains a cliff hanger ending you will not expect. A prequel to the series which can be read alone is Dazzled by Silver.

Warning: This title contains erotic situations, and graphic language. Intended for adult audience 18+.


My feet pressed to the floor as the elevator lifted against gravity. Tristan turned, facing me. His sultry stare bore through my body, and I felt my back press against the mirrored wall.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hold power over me; no man ever had. I was a cop. A strong cop who wasn’t swayed by crying mothers, cute puppies, or gorgeous hunks speeding in their Ferraris, offering everything they owned and more. But I was also a woman – and to Tristan, my body responded of its own accord. I felt my breasts swell and I wished I’d worn a dress with a larger top: one that could hold the twins in better. Tristan didn’t seem to mind.

“So, what will two thousand dollars buy me, sweetheart?”

Even if we were playing, I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of an interview—one of the best ones I’d ever had.

“Whatever you want.” I wondered how far he’d go, and how far I’d allow him to go. I already knew what he wanted. My instincts were solid, especially the hormonal ones. My body had secretly ached for his touch since he’d walked into the auditorium. And that one deep kiss we’d shared in his car was like a teasing spoonful of chocolate cake. I craved chocolate cake; and not just a bite.

And before I could say another word, Tristan crushed his mouth to mine, possessing it like he owned me, spreading my lips apart with his needy tongue. The hint of scotch still lingered in his mouth. And at this moment, he did own me. Every. Single. Piece of me.

His grip on my wrists above my head would have normally enraged me. But tonight I wasn’t a cop, and his strong and demanding fingers wrapped around my hands like cuffs, burning me with a long-forgotten yearning.

The force of his lips devoured mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. The few moans that escaped me, Tristan swallowed. I had no room to breathe and found hardly enough strength to stand on my legs.

He let go of my mouth and trailed his lips along my jaw to my cheek and ear before lowering down my neck, pinning me against the wall. Oh, God, he felt so good against my body. Everything inside me twisted and tightened and released in unbearable pulses between my thighs. I breathed him in, the oak smell of his scotch imprinted in his skin and in his hair.

The elevator halted and Tristan jolted up as if he’d just realized what he’d done. He searched my eyes with his as if asking permission to go on. And for the first time tonight, doubt crept in. He leaned his forehead against mine.

“We can’t do this. I’m your employee,” I whispered into his mouth. But inside, I laughed at my own unconvincing words, feeling the heat between my legs penetrate my dampened panties.

The open elevator door chimed the second time.

“Your body says we can.” He cupped my engorged breasts, one in each hand, squeezing them in slow motion, feeling their full weight. I held my breath, pushing my chest into his palms, filling them.

He looked straight into my eyes. “And you’re not hired until the morning.”

This time, his mouth took my lips slowly. The forceful tongue softened, teasing my gums, and I couldn’t get enough of his taste as he guided me into his apartment. We never broke our kiss and I couldn’t remember when my arms wrapped around his neck and fingers weaved through his silky hair. Tristan’s hands slid down my body and under my skirt, scrunching it up to my waist, and I felt him smile against my mouth.

“You’re prepared.” His palm covered the hand gun in a holster strapped to my thigh.

“You never know what weirdo you’ll run into on the street.”

He laughed, pulling the buckle open. Tristan set my piece aside on the table.

“What else are you hiding there?” He drew his finger along my brow, looking deep into my eyes. And for a moment I thought he could see everything, including my soul.

“Things I can never forget.” Did I just say that?

“I want to help you forget, for tonight at least.” The comfort and understanding in his eyes struck me deep inside. But behind those deep amber-like gems there was also pain. I wasn’t the only one hurting. Whatever had happened to Tristan must have been bad. Perhaps he was scarred as deep as I was? Had he ever allowed anyone to see what was hidden, layers deep inside his heart? I wondered what secrets he held and whether he’d share them.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” His voice thickened with lust as his fingers gripped the lace panties on my ass. The way he’d said this so nonchalantly comforted me. Like it was something we both needed and wanted.

A fuck to forget.

“If that’s what two thousand dollars buys, fuck away.” When I looked into his eyes, Tristan understood completely.

Tightening his grip, he lifted me up and seized my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms holding onto his upper body. Tristan carried me across his apartment, but I couldn’t remember a single detail about the place, except the faint smell of scotch, manly musk, and Tristan.

I loved smelling him.

His lips felt so good and natural against my mouth, just as it had when he’d kissed me that first time in the car. I’d dreamed about that luscious kiss every night. But this was much better than a dream, because his lips were warm and real. His bulging arms and flexing muscles as he carried me so effortlessly pulsed under my body. I wasn’t sure when he’d laid me down on the bed, or removed my skirt, panties, or even the top, because the next time he pulled away from my mouth and I looked up, I was naked, in a faintly lit bedroom, propped on my elbows, watching Tristan remove his jeans and shirt.

Author Bio:

Lacey is an Author of Erotic Romance. Her stories come from her life, dreams and fantasies. She’s a happily married wife with two kids. Lacey likes to make her readers blush and experience the story as if they were the characters. Drawing on the reader’s most sensitive emotions through realistic stories satisfies her more than… …ok not really, but you get the point;) She likes a pinkish shade on a woman’s cheeks, men with
large feet and sexy lingerie-especially when it’s torn off the body. Her favorite piece of clothing is a ‘birthday suit’.

Find Lacey Silks online:

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon

Link to Blitz -

Tuesday, December 17, 2013


Title: Men Can do Romance
Author: Michael Holloway Perronne
Genres: Fiction/Gay, Romance/Gay
Publisher- Chances Press, LLC,

Despite living in free-spirited New Orleans, Elliot finds that his career as an insurance actuary has him constantly weighing the risks of every move he makes in his life. When Troy, his teenage crush, returns home to the Big Easy after a stint with the Marines and unexpectedly announces he’s gay, Elliot must decide if he’s willing to take a chance and find out if men really can do romance.

Professional that quantifies risk.

That’s how I describe my job when someone asks, “Elliot, what the hell is an actuary anyway?” Sure, I could go into all the nitty gritty details about health care laws I have to memorize and complex mathematical equations I have to solve. But those four words really summarize it. I tell a health insurance company how much they should charge you and if you’re even worth the risk. All day long I decide if whatever is worth taking a chance. I have to look at things within a black and white world. There can be no gray. So how could that not bleed over into my personal life?

Is that low season trip to Thailand during monsoon season worth the risk?

Is the depreciation of the car I like versus the slower depreciation of a car that I’m not so crazy about worth the possible loss in trade-in value?

Is moving to another apartment in a neighborhood that I may like more worth the risk of maybe ending up with shitty neighbors when I like the ones I have now?

Is the man sitting in front of me on a date worth the risk based on what he’s telling me? For example, he recently broke up with his boyfriend. Or worse, he still lives with the “ex” boyfriend.

On dates, when I get around to them that is, I find myself unable to stop running the guys against some mental check list to figure out if they…you guessed it…are worth the risk.

Does he seem hung up on an ex?

How long has he been out compared to me, and does he still have wild oats that need attention?

Does he live within ten miles to me? Because let’s face it, I hate driving long distances on a regular basis.

Will his lack of always chewing with his mouth closed drive me so nuts I may want to scream at the top of my lungs one day in the middle of a meal at Antoine’s?

Is he cuter than me? And if so, can I risk my somewhat jealous tendencies?

So many questions running through my mind. All the time. No wonder I can’t sleep. No wonder I’m on Prozac for anxiety. Each day is one long careful thought about is it, this, that, him worth the risk.

It’s a Tuesday evening. I’m being wild, for me, by being out on a work night. It’s actually a nice June night in New Orleans. The humidity isn’t too oppressive. The stars twinkle above. I have a nice glass of Merlot I’m sipping while sitting across from a reasonably cute guy. I’ve actually managed to snag a date. Okay, a friend
set me up, but still. We met up at a cute outdoor wine bar in the Bywater I’ve been meaning to check out. Sounds good, no?

The guy’s name is Bailey, and he’s a paralegal. Check the box off next to the line item that reads “Sustainable Career.” He has wavy dark hair and blue eyes. A lethal combination to make my heart skip a beat. Check off the box next to the line item “Feel at least an inkling of sexual attraction.”

He actually asks some questions about me. Woohoo! Check off line item “Seems interested in getting to know me as a person.”

I tell him about growing up in the Garden District and my time spent backpacking across Europe and trying to find myself right after college. And then…

“You know my ex went backpacking across Europe,” Bailey says, his gaze suddenly appearing to be focusing on some point far, far in the distance. “He said it was the best time of his life.”

Uh, oh. Please don’t make me check off a line item in the column for “Run as fast as possible.”

“Have you ever been to Europe?” I ask, trying to bring the conversation back to…you know…us!

“No. But, Tim, my ex, said that he loved Sweden most of all. He always had a thing for blondes. Maybe that’s why…” Bailey says, his voice trailing off.

Please. No.

I’m not even half-way through my glass of wine, and this guy is making a mad dash for my personal “move on” line-up.

“Hmmm. I’ve never been to Sweden. But I’ve always had a thing for guys with dark hair,” I say not so subtly dropping what I would think would be a huge ass hint.

“We lived in New York for a while. Before we broke up, and I moved back here,” Bailey says, swirling the Merlot in his glass around and around.

“I still haven’t been to New York,” I say. “I was thinking maybe of taking a trip there next fall. Any recommendations?”

Come on, Bailey. You can do it! You can move back into the “maybe” column. For the love of God! Come on!

“Everything is amazing there. Everything,” he says still looking off into the distance. “I remember when I was flying back here after we broke up. I thought to myself how can you leave this city and this man that you love so much?”

Shit. I know it’s happened now. We’ve moved into the so not worth the risk because he’s hung up on his ex-boyfriend to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s told you more about his ex than himself.

I lean back in the wicker chair I’m sitting in, sip my Merlot, and look up at the twinkling lights in the sky. I start to tune out Bailey as he starts in on how he met the ex.

Oh, well. Maybe the next guy. Maybe.

Goodreads link:
Amazon buy link:

Author Bio:
Michael Holloway Perronne is the author of five novels and one novella: "A Time Before Me", "Starstruck: A Hollywood Saga", "Falling Into Me", "A Time Before Us" "Embrace the Rain" and "Men Can Do Romance." His debut novel, "A Time BeforeMe" won the Bronze Award, Foreword Magazine's 2006 Book of the Year Award in the Gay/Lesbian fiction category. In addition, Michael recently released his first travel guide, "The Quickie Gay Guide to Cape Town, South Africa."

Michael was born and raised in Mississippi. He received a BA in Film from the University of Southern Mississippi and a MFA in Drama and Communications from the University of New Orleans. Author website:
Goodreads Author Page:

Giveaway: One free ebook of Men Can do Romance at each tour stop
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Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Honor Guard Series - Resolutions
by Teri Riggs

DEA agent Eve Taylor has had her fill of alpha males. When Resolutions’ operative and former lover, Dillon
“Mac” McKenna, threatened her hard-earned independence, she ran. On a mission to gather evidence against a Colombian drug-lord, Eve discovers the drug-lord is helping terrorists plan an attack on American soil. Before she can escape with the vital information, she’s captured and comes face to face with her mortality…

As a teen, Mac watched his family fall apart after his mother died doing dangerous U.N. work. The possibility of losing Eve to a mission ignited an overwhelming need to protect her. When he forced her to choose him or her job, she walked away. Two years later, it seems all his nightmares have come true and he’s tasked with rescuing her from a Colombian prison. Mac has never stopped loving Eve, but does he dare risk his heart when he’s so terrified of losing…

On the run, Mac and Eve must learn to trust each other again in order to stay alive.

Note: Resolutions is a private black ops agency specializing in the near-impossible extractions of kidnap victims, hostages, and all forms of intelligence other agencies have failed to retrieve.

Goodreads Link -

Romantic Suspense
Honor Guard Series
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | All Romance eBooks | Decadent
Price: 2.99
***Resolutions was a finalist in the prestigious Daphne Du Maurier contest

What Readers are saying:
"I love the sexual tension between Eve and Mac. The hot, steamy Colombian jungle makes a great backdrop for a love story that begins with two ex-lovers on the run."
-K. Kishpaugh, Amazon

"The action and suspense were nonstop. Eve was believable as a tough and persistent female protagonist. And I liked how she and Mac's characters developed throughout the story.”
-Marie, Amazon

“Nonstop action and plenty of sexual tension between the lead characters. A quick, suspenseful read. I would recommend this to my friends.”
-Lady A, Amazon

“A good read with plenty of action. I liked the gun battle scenes. They were well paced and for fairly accurate. Mendoza was played well and I enjoyed Mac and Eve's determination to stop him.”
-Cooper, Amazon

About the Author:
Teri Riggs was destined to be a writer. As a small girl she didn’t read bedtime stories, she made up her own. Who needed Little Red Riding Hood or The Three Little Pigs when there were so many great tales bouncing around in her head? When she grew up and became a mother to three little girls, she continued the tradition of making up bedtime stories. On the occasions she chose to tell conventional fairytales, Teri usually gave them a bit of tweaking here and there or added a new ending. Her girls loved it.

After her daughters had the nerve to actually grow up and leave home, Teri discovered she had a passion for writing and jumped right in. It came as no surprise she chose to write mysteries and happily-ever-after’s since that’s the genres she loves to read.

Teri lives in Marietta, Georgia with her husband, one of her daughters and two dogs that seem to think they rule the world. And some days Teri thinks maybe they do.

Contact Details:
Twitter: @TeriLRiggs (

Enjoy the following excerpt for Resolutions:

He looked at Eve. She’d blended into the shadows. Vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind, her breathing not even loud enough to give her away. Heavy steps paused outside the door. He went on alert, his body shooting high-octane adrenaline to all parts. The doorknob jiggled, but the door didn’t open and the footsteps continued on their journey. Mac let out the breath he held and let his shoulders go slack. His blood began to circulate at normal speed again and his trigger finger relaxed.

Eve slipped from her hiding place and sauntered back to the desk. She picked the laptop up and sat it back on the desk, her movements guarded. The glow from the screen lit her face once more. She radiated determination and confidence. Lips, barely moving, formed silent words while she skimmed the monitor’s display. Her right hand floated to her injured shoulder and rubbed gently.

Mac lightly stroked her hair. “You want to finish our talk?”

Her hand dropped to her side and she straightened. “Not now. Let’s get this finished. The download’s complete.” She removed the flash drive and put it in her pocket. “Give me a sec to download the wipe drive program.”

Mac said, “He’s going to be all levels of pissed.”

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” A grin tweaked her lips, exactly what Mac needed to see. He really did like the way the woman worked. Not to mention the way she looked. The way she smelled and tasted. The way her body fit beneath his. But he needed to focus on the business at hand.

“I’m doing a seven-level wipe of the computer, a wipe so deep nobody will ever be able to reconstruct data from this puppy. I helped build this program while I was still in tech support. It’s bad-ass.” She sounded happier than she had in a long time.

“Mendoza’s going to find a business is hard to run without proper files.”

Eve worked a few more minutes before shutting down the laptop. She closed the lid, wiped her hands together in an exaggerated gesture. “Done. Now all we gotta do is pray the arrogant ass hasn’t backed his files up.”

Mac said, “Not his style.”

“I’m banking on it. Let’s get out of here.”

“Copy that.”

Eve entered the code to unlock the door and Mac cracked it open. The foyer remained empty. They made their way to the stairway and hurried down, keeping their footsteps quick and silent. Halfway through the underground hallway, Mac spotted a group of three, maybe four men running full-throttle toward them. He fought the need to push Eve behind him.

He offered her a swaggering smile. “Okay, Eve. Let’s kick some ass.”

Eve darted to the right, Mac to the left. A shot pinged past her, ricocheting off the concrete wall, showering her with pulverized gravel that stung her skin like a son of a bitch. Aiming the AK-47, she pulled the trigger, waited for the recoil and blast. Nothing happened. Damn. The gun jammed. She tossed it and dodged the next spray of bullets.

She reached the shooter before he had a chance to fire another round. Eve took a deep breath, grunted, and swept her leg in a graceful arc, snagging him behind the knees. He twisted in midair and hit the ground facedown with a loud thud. His handgun skittered across the floor.

Using her weight, Eve dropped on both knees and landed solid on the man’s turned neck. Vertebra snapped and crunched beneath her, and the garbled hiss of his last breath signaled she’d won this round. He went lax.

One down. Two to go.

Eve tried to steal a glance at Mac and the man he grappled with. A hit to her back knocked her off balance. The air rushed from her lungs. Her face met the floor, then her body, and jarred her injured shoulder. Pain screamed in two-part harmony and her vision tunneled. White spots danced before her.

“You bastard.” She tried to get control of her breathing again, and refocus on the target at hand. “You are so about to die.”

She rolled to her side first, onto her knees, and up. Once standing, Eve landed a forceful blow to the man’s gonads. He doubled over and clutched himself. Using all the strength in her good arm, she gripped his greasy hair and jerked down while kneeing his face. A warm flow of blood from his nose soaked her knee. The man sobbed, but managed to get in a gut punch. He latched on to her waist. Eve shook off the hit and tried to break free. She curled around him and saw the M9 Beretta tucked in his waistband.

“Fuck this.” She reached over his back, pulled the gun, planted the muzzle against the side of his head and squeezed the trigger. He wobbled like a Weeble for a couple seconds, then dropped like a bag of marbles.

Two down.

Acutely aware of the sound of fists hitting skin, she found Mac fighting another guard. Locked in battle near another stairwell, the man held Mac and delivered repeated blows to his right side. Eve raced toward them, ready to help. Instead, she got an up-close view of Mac head butting the man. The guard staggered back, wiping blood from his face. When he charged, Mac side stepped and grabbed the guard’s throat. With a snap of his opposite hand, he broke the man’s neck, and he toppled into a pile at Mac’s feet.

He stepped over the carcass and took Eve into his arms.

His warmth soothed, but there wasn’t time for comfort. Using all the willpower she could muster, she jerked away from him and took a step back.

“Don’t, Eve. Don’t turn away from me.” He reached for her.

“I’m not. I just think we need to clear the compound and San Carlos Lucas while we still can.” She eyed the mini Uzi Mac had taken from Carlos laying near the corpse of the man he’d just taken down. “Grab your weapon and let’s go. Unless we come across Mendoza, we’re finished here. There’s no time—”

Shots rang out. Eve and Mac hit the ground and crawled to a sheltered area behind an arched beam. She ran her hand over herself. She hadn’t been hit. Her focus turned to Mac.

Mac, are you okay?”

“Depends on your definition of okay.”

“Oh, God.” Eve heard his heavy breathing and panic rose up her throat. “Please, tell me you’re not hit.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Don’t worry though, it’s just a graze. I’ve suffered worse cuts shaving. We need to be more concerned about finding the shooter right now.”

Shit. The beam wasn’t big enough to protect them. Eve steadied her weapon in front of her, then around the beam. She peeked out and back again. She inched her way into a standing position and helped Mac pull himself up.

“Where are you hit?”

“My side.”

“Damn, Mac. You’re supposed to avoid those bullets when they come at you. Avoid them like a two dollar hooker with a bottle of cheap wine.”

“And you know all about two dollar hookers?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Eve couldn’t tell if he was grunting in pain or laughing.

“I’ll try to do better next time.”

“You do that.”

“Miss Taylor, surely you’re not leaving the compound without saying a proper goodbye.”

She stilled. Mendoza’s cold, menacing voice cut right through her. Her fingers caressed the Beretta. She had to think. Needed a new plan.

Mac moved closer and gripped her arm, his touch solid and reassuring. She turned her head and whispered, “Getting away from this place is turning into a real pain in the ass.”

Mac said, “Got any ideas?”

Eve heard the tremor in Mac’s voice, hoped she wouldn’t have to make the decision to leave him behind to ensure the intel reached IDEA in one piece. “We did say we wanted the bastard. Now, I guess we get our chance at his ugly ass.” She wanted Mendoza dead.

“I assume we’re about to go in guns-ablazin’.” He shifted, looked uncomfortable in spite of his joking.

“Hopefully, the onslaught of wake-the-dead shots that’ve been fired will bring Cade running.”

“That’d make three, instead of two, against Mendoza and how many?” Assuming Cade wasn’t already dead, but she wouldn’t share that suspicion with Mac.

“I’m sure Mendoza’s got a shit load of back up with him.” Mac sounded winded. “How many rounds you got?”

She popped the 9mm’s magazine, took a quick look, and slapped the ammo back in. “Thirteen. You?”

He jerked his head toward the mini Uzi he’d dropped. “You’re on your own, baby.” He paused and then added, “Unless of course you’d consider giving me the Beretta? I’ll lay down some cover while you make your way out of this place with the flash drive. Who cares which one of us carries the package out?”

“Don’t even go there, Mac. How about I lay—”

“Forget it. We stay together,” Mac said firmly.

“Agreed. We stay together. For now.” Eve would re-evaluate if Mac’s injury began to slow them down, although she had a feeling she’d not be leaving him behind.

“Then fire when you’re ready. I’ll go for the Uzi.”

Mac shifted away from her, the space behind her going from warm to cold. He settled into position, ready to hustle when she fired. Eve peered around the beam and drew a steady bead on Mendoza’s heart.

“Put the gun down, doll face.”

“Seriously?” Eve weighed her options.

“I said drop the gun, Eve. If you fire, I’ll kill McKenna.”

“Danny,” she whispered. Damn him. Her fist tightened on the Beretta, and her mind waged an internal war before she reluctantly lowered her arm, but didn’t drop the gun.

Mac filled the space to her side, his warmth instantly returning. He leaned forward and the side of his face touched hers. Heat radiated from him. His lips brushed against her ear.

“Got any other ideas, baby?”

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Wednesday, December 4, 2013


Title: Betting It All
Author: Cate Masters
Genres: Historical Romance
Publisher: Decadent Publishing

Can the daughter of a well-known prostitute start a new life where no one knows her family history?
Norah Hawkins is sure going to try. When a letter arrives deeding her property in San Francisco, she packs her bags.

Irishman Gerard MacKenzie likes his life free and easy, but is tired of the snobbish East Coast folk. San Francisco has enough vice and folly to suit his needs. Meeting Norah gives him the opportunity to bartend in her saloon. Maybe he can convince her to let him play the piano. She’s a shrewd businesswoman, and negotiating with her makes his blood boil. Damn if she doesn’t make his blood boil in other ways, too.

The morning of April 18, 1906, a terrible earthquake buries their dreams beneath the city’s ruins. Can Norah and Mac rebuild their lives? Will rebuilding their dreams bond them forever, or tear them apart?

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Lord, she must have left her common sense in New Jersey. A man like Mac would prove to be nothing but trouble. Mischief twinkled in his eyes. Back in her hotel room to repack her scant belongings, Norah felt it in her bones. Deeper than your bones, a small voice told her. She felt it in a way unfamiliar to her. It rattled her nerves. It turned her thoughts to him at the most inconvenient times, wondering what sort of man Gerard McKenzie truly was beneath his sharp tongue and wily ways. It robbed her of common sense and self-control, inventing ways to stay near him. When he’d practically insisted she hire him, the thrill running through her both startled and intrigued her. No man had so much as laid a finger on her, not with her permission anyway. Yet she found herself imagining what Mac’s touch might feel like.

In the hallway, he whistled Melody of Love. She imagined him singing the lyrics:

Hold me in your arms, dear
Dream with me
Cradled by your kisses, tenderly
While a choir of angels from above
Sings our melody of love.

What must it be like, to know such a deep love? To trust a man with her heart?

A small laugh burst forth. If she’d learned anything in her twenty-five years, it was that men couldn’t be trusted. Especially not with a woman’s heart. The only time she’d given in to curiosity and let her heart rule over her head left her burning with shame. The thrill of Floyd Enders’s attentions turned to surprise when his fluttering kiss grew forceful, his groping desperate as he pinned her to the ground. Another attempt to prove her cut from the same cloth as Estelle, another whore to be used at his whim and tossed aside.

A bitter chuckle escaped. She’d done the tossing instead, and her kick to his hard groin left him writhing in agony. Too bad it wasn’t the lasting kind of pain, like he’d inflicted on her, claiming she’d begged for it. His lie followed her for years on the whispering lips of other boys who wanted what Floyd supposedly had.

Would Mac treat her so poorly? Of course not. She’d provide him with wages. If she wasn’t careful, he’d woo more from her, and soon she’d have less than nothing. No money, no saloon and worst, a ruined reputation. No man would rob her of that.

She lifted her bag, then thought better of it. Let Mac learn right away to take orders from her. After setting it on the bed, she put on her hat and opened the door.

Mac leaned his shoulder against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, aimlessly twirling his tweed cap in his hands. Glancing up, he straightened and scrunched the cap.

At least he pretended seriousness. “Please get my bags.”

He flashed a smile and winked. “Yes ma’am.”

A more fragile female might be devastated by his charms. Oh, she hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a terrible mistake.

Hoisting one bag under his arm, he grabbed the handle of the remaining one. “All set.”

“Excellent.” She led the way downstairs, stopping at the front desk to check out and settle her account. Outside, she found Mac wearing his cap and a smile.

The bustle of the busy street made her hurry in excitement. “I wish I had time to explore the city.”

“It’s something, isn’t it? Makes me feel more alive.”

Slowing her pace, she glanced over. “Yes. Exactly.” She couldn’t hide her surprise at sharing that feeling. “Once I make my success, I’ll indulge my curiosity. Until then, I have too much work ahead.” She hurried on.

He fell into easy step with her. “There’s always time for work. My mama always said it’s more important to take time to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Life.” He said it as if she should have known the answer.

Funny, she’d never shared that inclination. Life presented too many challenges, too many obstacles she had to scrabble over.

Author Bio:

Multipublished, award-winning author Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

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Monday, November 25, 2013


~Book details
Title: Her Wicked Sin (A Sins of Salem Novel)
Author: Sarah Ballance
Genres: Historical Romance
Categories: NONE
Erotic Elements: NONE
Publisher: Entangled Publishing (Scandalous Line)
Release Date: September 9, 2013
Heat Level: Steamy
Word Count/Length: Approx 55,000 words

Salem, MA 1692
On a moonless night, he rides into the winter forest on his beast as black as midnight...

Dashing stranger, Henry Dunham, comes to Salem on a mysterious errand, but is thrown from his horse in the dead of night and rescued by the local Puritan midwife, Lydia Colson.

Haunted by her past, Lydia is running from her own dark secrets, avoiding intrusive questions by pretending her dead husband is simply... away. But when she and Henry are caught in a compromising situation, one punishable by Puritan law, he saves her from scandal by claiming to be her errant spouse... and claiming her bed.

Forced to fake a marriage, Lydia and Henry find their passion overwhelming and their vows a little too real. As their lies become truths, a witch hunt closes in on Lydia, threatening not only their burgeoning love, but her life.

She seemed nowhere as flustered as he as she extracted his shirt from his breeches, but the very act of this woman undressing him sent desire coursing astray. Though new to her acquaintance, he found her innately appealing. Never before had he been so taken with a woman, even as he’d entertained a long parade of those pushed to claim access to his fortune through the transaction of marriage.

None had been like Lydia.

When her hands fell to his bare abdomen, the air crackled like the fire upon the hearth. Even she seemed startled as she drew breath and froze, save for her eyes seeking his, but she quickly pushed aside her hesitation and worked her soft ministrations against his skin. Her innocence only increased her appeal, though she was no untried girl. She was a widow who had surely known the pleasures of the marital bed.

His thoughts in cooperation with her touch roused his manhood, and his breeches did little to hide the evidence. For perhaps the first time in his twenty-four years, he cursed his need. He would do nothing willingly to alienate himself from the lovely physician’s company, but he could not stop that for which he ached. 

She had dismissed her hesitance, no longer seeking permission to explore him. He sought in her a trace of the desire he cultivated, but she did not meet his eye. Not until she found his flustered groin did she speak. “You are not yet incapacitated, are you now?”

He blinked his surprise. Oh, how her quick tongue captured him! “Forgive me. You must know how you provoke desire.”

~Author Bio:

Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). Though she adores romantic suspense, she writes in many genres. Her ever-growing roster of releases may be found at

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