Promo Tour: This Devil is Crazy by Pauline Hornsby

THIS DEVIL IS CRAZY
The Devil’s Prophets, book 1

by Pauline Hornsby

Genre: Romance Suspense. (high heat levels)

When Jenna Mitchell enters the world of the Devil’s Prophets Motorcycle Club, unlike most women before her, she is not there to land herself a biker. After the late president of the MC, kidnapped their baby and murdered her sister, Jenna could only look on from the sidelines as another woman raised Jack. Now is her chance to finally reunite with her son, and nothing will stand in her way.

Try telling that to Ali, the club’s enforcer. The stunning, quiet bookkeeper is like the start of his favourite sex fantasy, the part just before the secretary whips off her glasses, and shakes down her hair. One short meeting, and she’s all he can think about.

First love at thirty two, seems unlikely, yet Jenna can’t help falling for the sexy, dirty mouthed biker. But it’s not all MC parties and off the chain hot sex for this interloper. When the man that wants you, demands your secrets too, it’s only a matter of time before he will them find out.

Ali
I let myself into the office the moment Chrissie left to do the banking. “You settling in?” I said, picking one of the pens out of the stupid penguin holder that Chrissie must have bought.
“I have a lot to do,” Jenna said and swallowed. “Can I help you?”
She appeared skittish and I had no plans to alleviate that. “Maybe.” I slid the pen back into the container. “Funny place for someone like you to work. Did you know it was an MC?”
I waited for her to say no, to tell me that she had no idea that the garage had a link to an outlaw motorcycle club. “I worked it out from the address, so yes,” she said.
“You’ve lived here, what, a month?”
“Six weeks. Is there anything else? I’m kind of swamped.”
I reached across and closed the laptop, her perfume hitting me sharply. Roses, unusual when most women around the place smelled of spices and sex. I liked it, though, the aroma lighter, more subtle than I was used to. “Take a break.”
Her eyes went to my mouth like she lip-read me. “I could make coffee,” she said, her hands shaking before she closed them into fists.
“So, where’s Mr. Mitchell?” I asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
“I thought you checked all that out?” Her mouth lifted at one side.
“We did, just wondering if you have one hidden away somewhere.” I leaned closer. “You don’t look single.”
“I don’t? What does single look like?” She appeared interested, her head tilting.
“Not beautiful like you.” I cocked my head to the side. “But you don’t look very content, so you’re either not being fucked properly, or you are on your own.”
Her breath hissed in. “I don’t appreciate that.”
“Being fucked properly?” I didn’t back away, leaning down a little more.
“Being spoken to like that. It’s disrespectful and unprofessional. I’m here to work, not have you come in here and harass me like this.” She rolled her chair back and I held down the chuckle that started making its way up my throat. “I think you should leave.”
“Babe, you don’t get to tell me shit.” I straightened up. Fuck, my dick had been getting hard the entire time I had been talking to her. I had been caught up in the discussion, but still, how the hell had I not noticed?
“I’m just making conversation. Besides, it’s you that’s harassing me.”
“What?” Her eyes grew rounder. Had she noticed? I really hoped so. “I’ve said nothing to you.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been checking me out. I saw you watching me. I’m not an object, you know.” I smiled, softening my words. I’d liked her watching me. Of course, she’d checked out my brothers too. We were probably like animals in a zoo to the pretty little citizen.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she said, her voice wavering. I’d caught her, she couldn’t really deny that.
“It’s okay. I think I like you harassing me.” I scratched my chin. “Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, you can harass me as much as you want.”
Pauline lives in a quaint country town where she writes, reads, and is lucky enough to, live romance. Having found the love of her life early, she has no issue with her friends reading her stories, and being unable to make eye contact with her for weeks after. It’s all about love, and the trials of finding a happy ever after in her world.

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Promo Tour: Not a Gentleman by Loreen Augeri

NOT A GENTLEMAN

by Loreen Augeri

Genre: Historical Romance

When Juliana Stevenson’s father dies under suspicious circumstances, her greedy uncle betroths her and her sister to vile men for his profit. They refuse to be part of his plan and flee, but her uncle hires an arrogant, demanding man to bring them back.

Needing money to care for his brother and sister and repair a manor in disrepair, Nicholas Blackstone agrees to find the women. He captures Juliana but not her sister and imprisons her in his manor until he can discover the whereabouts of her sibling.

Juliana’s body calls to Nicholas, but she can never be his — her life is already mapped out. Can they fight the passion pulling them together while her father’s killer stalks them?

The small, warm form lay still below him. Had he killed her? No. Her ragged gasps penetrated his fear. Nicholas hadn’t meant to land so hard, but the aggravating chit deserved it. She held a gun on him and threatened to shoot!

But she was a woman, and a small one at that. He jumped off her, grabbed her arm, and hauled her to her feet.

“Let go…of…me.” She panted as she fought to catch her breath.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t…know. Probably. You pounced on me.” She fought to free herself.

He released her. “You had a gun.”

Miss Stevenson brushed the dirt from her bodice and skirt. “You tried to kidnap us.”

“I wasn’t kidnapping you. I was returning you and your sister to your uncle. He is worried about you.” He strode to one side of the cave and scooped up the gun lying beside the wall.

“He doesn’t care for us. His concern is how much money our marriages will bring him.” She examined her palm and winced. “We won’t go back.”

“He is your guardian.” He peered at her hands. “You cut yourself.”

She glared at him. “It’s your fault, and he’s not my guardian. I am of age.”

“Well, Miss Emily isn’t, and he wants you both. Where will your sister hide?”

“I have no idea.”

She walked away. This female who didn’t reach his shoulder actually walked away. He thought this job would be quick and easy, and he would soon be with his brother and sister with money to start repairing the crumbling estate he inherited, so he could return to the army where he belonged. Where exasperating women didn’t question his orders and answered when asked for information. He ran to catch up and grabbed her elbow. “Where are you going?”

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I have always liked to read and write. As a child, I created stories featuring a young girl and her horse.

I started reading historical romances when my children were babies. When my youngest daughter started school, I decided I wanted to write one. At first, to see if I could, later as a hobby, and then seeking publication. Becoming a member of the Romance Writers of America, Hearts Through History, and my local chapter, New England Chapter helped in the process.

I live in the Northeast with my husband and two adult daughters and work in my local library. When I am not reading or writing, I enjoy walking, dancing, and spending time at the beach. I am the one under the umbrella, wearing a hat, sunglasses, and tee shirt over my bathing suit. I have my English and Irish ancestry to thank for my white skin that burns easily.

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Promo Tour: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Shayne Ford

 

A BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

Night of the Kings series

by Shayne Ford

Genre: New Adult Erotic Romance

 LUST. POWER. BAD BOYS. LOVE. BETRAYAL.
This is a story about love, taming hearts, growing up and changing. It is about a good girl corrupting a bad boy, who turns her into a bad girl. And then, it’s about a bad girl, who brings the bad boy to his knees.
Rain meets James for the first time, fresh out of high school. Fascinated by him, she wants him to be her first man, someone she can never forget. At twenty-five, James is a ruthless, powerful, wealthy man, who’s never had feelings for a woman and wants to keep things that way.
He has two handsome best friends who are also his business partners.
This is NOT a conventional, linear romance. Expect a bit of a mess, dirty bits, other people, cliffhangers and twists of situations. 



Chapter ONE


RAIN

Nobody knows where they come from.
Some people say they travel from the other side of the hills, where the wealthiest estates of the county share the beautiful scenery of Aspen and the well-guarded privacy of big money, but they could drive from farther away.
They come with the first whispers of the fall when the days are still warm, and the light looks like golden honey pouring slowly in a jar of glass. When the nights grow cold, and the leaves flutter in the wind under the vault of the cerulean sky. When homes like mine and Eve’s smell like cinnamon and apple pies, and smoke drifts from the piles of leaves burning outside.
They drive through town like ghosts while we spend our evenings tucked under the blankets, sipping tea and eating cookies, spinning stories like this.
But some people swear they see them all year round. Mostly at night, and almost never during the day, and that’s why it’s so hard to believe.
As they sweep through town, the whispers become murmurs before they turn into gossip, the stories, old and new, resurfacing, revived, spurring restlessness amongst the youngsters and skepticism amongst the older.
Men brush the idea off, huffing and puffing and grumping, turning a deaf ear to the women’s ramblings.
People spot their cars or bikes, but not that many get the chance to see them. Certainly not us, who are barely out of high school.
Women are the ones who spread the rumors, but their stories should be taken with a grain of salt.
Regardless, the tales and mysteries abound.
Eve and I love the legend.
Unlike her, I’m not willing to admit.
Some say they head west–– right outside of town, where an old estate sprawls on a big piece of land, guarded by the majestic forest in the background.
That’s where the road comes to an end, and the Dark House rises on the shore of a large, shimmering lake, the mansion shrouded in a lot of mystery just like them.
Surrounded by old trees, alleys with wrought iron benches, flowering shrubs and a brick wall covered with wild roses, the property–– if we are to believe the story, belongs to them.
Footpaths crisscross the land, an old tale saying there’s an abandoned tunnel hidden in the thick woods stretching behind the house.
Other people have spotted them downtown at Red’s–– the building with charcoal gray walls, red painted stairs, and black tinted windows. The playground of the most powerful and wealthiest men in town, perhaps the county. The favorite place for wheeling and dealing and indulging in guilty pleasures away from their spouses’ eyes.
Throughout the years the space we grew up in has become a portal between old and new, truth and secret, pure and sin, stories like this making the town feel so alive.
“Wait for me,” Eve shouts as I dart away from her, the wind blowing in my hair, the sun kissing my cheeks.
“I’ll meet you down there,” I say, pointing at the bottom of the slope.

Chapter ONE


Rain

One week till Christmas~New York

There’s no stronger force than love. It makes you crawl and cry and curse. It tortures you and poisons you before it shows you bliss to hook you even more, and then it makes you bleed. It brings the toughest man to his knees and turns a woman’s heart into a pile of ashes.
“She doesn’t pay you to read… you know,” a terse voice rings out behind me, scratching my ears.
I stifle a retort.
She who pays me is not the owner of the store, and she who speaks is not my boss, but that’s useless to convey as well.
Clinging to my last ounce of dignity, I slowly fold the piece of paper, place it in my pocket and start stacking books on the shelf.
The more I sense her stare on my back, the more nervous I become. Suddenly, my lips are dry, and my hands turn sweaty as my dress begins to itch.
Pacing myself, I run trembling fingers over my skirt. I wish she’d go away. No fucking chance.
I have no other choice but turn around and face her.
Angel, my co-worker, a petite woman in her mid-twenties, who looks more mature than her age, straightens her back and creases her lips into a disdainful smile.
Her orange sweater makes the pearls around her neck look yellow and her skin translucent. A tangerine ribbon holds her curly hair in place as her beaded eyes follow me intently from behind thick-rimmed glasses.
How many times have we been through this?
She harassing me while I pretend I’m an idiot.
“I thought you’re leaving,” I say dryly.
“I am,” she says, throwing me a disgusted look, her fingers flipping a freshly sharpened pencil.
My eyes drop to the wedding band gracing her ring finger.
Who can love a woman like this?
Pure hatred runs in her blood.
“I just want to remind you that until you close the store, you have to make sure the customers’ calls don’t end up in the voicemail. She doesn’t like that,” Angel says, acting as a surrogate for Candy, our new boss.
I clench my teeth to push back another retort.
I’d gladly give her a piece of my mind, but more than anything else I need this job and the meager paycheck that helps me to survive or rather doesn’t let me die.
“Okay,” I say, looking at her blankly.
For the life of me, I can’t figure out what possesses her to pick on me, day in and day out?
It was like that from the very beginning.
Before I even had the chance to open my mouth and introduce myself or say a thing or two about my life, her mind was already made up.
She’s not much older than me, and she’s not my boss, but somehow she thinks she is. She started working a couple of weeks before me, and yet she behaves as if she owns the store

 


RAIN

The ocean breeze sweeps my feet.
Soft as a feather, the wind rolls onto my legs and my back before it trails my backside. It takes me only a mere second to realize I’m naked.
Caught between sleep and awareness, I stretch my arm and tap the mattress behind me, looking for the sheet.
I slide it over my body and let myself fall back to sleep, hoping to steal another hour. The seagulls have a different plan and start a riot on the beach.
I give up on the idea and just lie on the bed with my eyes closed, and my nostrils filled with the ocean scent.
A smell of coffee drifts from nearby. More awareness settles in, a nagging thought coming along with it.
He didn’t sleep in bed with me.
In fact, he hasn’t touched me since that night.
None of them have.
That must be him, and his instructions.
There’s no other explanation. The Night of the Kings, and my brief encounter with Lex wouldn’t have happened either, had he not given them the green light.
Another thought surfaces in my head.
Today is our last day on the island.
My stomach shrinks and my chest tightens with tension. Forget about sleeping. I crack my eyes open.
The wide stretch of glimmering blue water and the silver sand come into view. It’s a windy morning with the sky mostly clear, only a few fluffy clouds chased away by the wind here and there.
I could live and write in a place like this. I wouldn’t need a big house. Nothing like this for sure. A room or two will do. As long as I’d have the beach, the ocean and the crying seagulls my life would be like a dream.
I can envision myself sitting in a wicker chair, sipping margaritas, and plotting away. Knitting stories.
Hmm. That’s a nice thought. I smile for a few moments before I I shake off the fantasy and look around.
The house is eerily quiet. I crawl across the bed, snatch my phone from the nightstand and flip it over.
It’s almost ten.
Propped on my elbows, I scan the beach, looking for them. The shore is empty.
I slide off the bed, wrap the sheet around my body, take a few stairs down and glance around. The water ripples in the pool while the palmetto leaves sway in the wind.
I take a few more steps, the warm sand brushing my feet. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I look up and down the beach.
There’s no sign of them.
Intrigued, I spin around and make the trip back, entering the house.
Chamber after chamber, I get the same feeling. There’s no one else in here but me. In perfect order, the rooms bear no signs of them. The bedroom doors are wide open, the beds untouched as if no one slept in them last night.
I check the closets. They’re empty as well. I dash back to my bedroom, toss the sheet on the bed, pick up my underwear, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and get dressed in a hurry.
SECRETS. LIES. DECEIT. A GAME OF LUST AND BURNING PASSION.
Dahlia is a girl who just started building her own path in life. Lex is the man who has it all, except for one thing.
His heart is full of secrets, and his blood is filled with lust, yet no one can tame his fire.
Fate brings them together in more ways than one. He has a taste for mysteries. She has a heart made for love.
Falling for him is the hardest thing she’s ever done.
Satisfying her is the most pleasurable thing he’s ever done.
Will this be the everlasting love?
This is NOT a conventional, linear romance. Expect a bit of a mess, dirty bits, cliffhangers and twists of situations.
This is a New Adult Erotic Romance. 18+ Only.
PLEASE NOTE: Although a standalone, Lex’s story includes spoilers of James’ story since it unfolds in the same world at a later date. If you wish to know the backstory of the Kings, reading James’ story (book 1-3) is highly recommended
Shayne Ford writes NEW ADULT, Erotic Romance, the love stories involving hot-blooded men and adventurous, soulful women. The male cast includes Rock Stars, Billionaires, Bad Boys, Alphas with a heart, and the sweet, strong man you may find next door. The stories are emotional and deliciously hot. Sometimes they’re unconventional, and sometimes they’re a bit dark.Her Series are epic, layered, character-driven, and have a lot of depth. They are not the typical romance, nor are they formulaic or follow a mold.

Promo Tour: Scandal’s Child by Pamela Gibson

SCANDAL’S CHILD

by Pamela Gibson

Genre: Regency Romance

Miranda Comstock, widowed and impoverished, accepts a position in London caring for a child who was blinded in a fire. When she discovers the child’s mysterious guardian is the lover who seduced and abandoned her five years earlier, her first thought is to flee. But nine-year-old Phoebe depends on her and is blossoming under her care.

Jeremy Montague returns from Jamaica to take up his duties as the new Earl of Longley and is shocked to find his former lover is his ward’s nurse. Believing she played him for a fool, he vows to remove her from his household, especially when his traitorous body begins to remember the passion they shared.

But there is a mystery afoot involving a long-ago disappearance, Miranda’s resemblance to a society debutante, and the child’s suppressed memories of the fire, which are starting to emerge. As Phoebe’s memories become sharper, Jeremy begins to suspect that he and Miranda were pawns in a twisted game. And both must learn to trust again, if they are to find their way back into each other’s hearts.

A glass of brandy awaited her when Miranda reached the parlor. Jeremy handed it to her without asking, and she accepted it gratefully. The fiery liquid brought her back to reality.

As she sat in the chair in her room, watching Phoebe go to sleep, a languid feeling had overtaken her. Her fight and energy had dissolved once she knew the girl was safe. All she wanted was to sink back into sleep. Now she was wide awake again, although her arms and legs still threatened to buckle under her.

Jeremy leaned against the mantle. She hadn’t noticed in the flurry of activity he’d lost his cravat and he was not wearing a waistcoat. Her only thoughts had been for Phoebe. Now every nerve ending was on edge as she studied his tall frame, his tight pantaloons, and the dark curls peeking from the top of his unfastened shirt. She remembered how soft they had felt against her bare breasts, how they tickled her nose when she lowered her lips to coax his nipples into hard buds. Warmth seeped between her thighs, making her squirm in the hard chair she had chosen. Shaking her head, she took a deep swig of the amber liquid and swallowed, making herself choke.

“Are you all right?” He came over and patted her back as she leaned forward.

“I am not accustomed to strong spirits,” she said between coughs.

“I’m sure you are not, but we all needed some tonight. Or is it morning?”

As if in response, the clock on a nearby table chimed twice.

Miranda blinked and gritted her teeth. Remember, this is the man who deceived you, who already had a mistress and a child when he was promising to marry you. This is the man who sailed away without a word, who never sent a letter, who left you enceinte and alone.

Be fair, he didn’t know you were increasing.

She stilled her inner voice and answered the question.

“It is morning as you heard. Shall we get on with this discussion, so we can all get some sleep?”

He sauntered over to the chair opposite hers and sat down. His lips were drawn in a straight line, and his eyes were cold.

“Now then, tell me exactly how this happened.” He lifted the crystal glass to his lips and drank deeply. Candlelight sparkled from its beveled surface. Miranda watched in fascination as points of light seemed to blur in front of her eyes.

“Miranda? Did you hear me?” He gave her arm a gentle shake. “Are you awake?”

He’d called her Miranda. She blinked and refocused on his lips. That was a mistake. All she could think about was how she longed to taste them, how she burned for the feel of them on her neck and breasts and thighs.

God, she must be exhausted to be having these thoughts.

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Award-winning author Pamela Gibson grew up loving books, history, and small towns. Her first career was a newspaper reporter, but when she returned to college to get a master’s degree, it was in public administration which eventually led to jobs running cities…not as an elected official, but as a city manager, the chief appointed one.

Writing was still her passion and when not busy—with the activities of two children and a lot of volunteer work—she was contracted to write several books on local history. Taking an early retirement at the urging of her very supportive husband, she turned to fiction and began writing the happy ending novels she loves to read.

Sign up for her quarterly newsletter on her website. New followers are eligible for a random drawing for two $5 Amazon gift cards prior to each edition. Author of six small-town contemporary novels, Scandal’s Child is her first historical novel.

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