Sunday, May 28, 2017


Synopsis
After being rescued from a monster posing as a Master, Mercy O’Connor—known as Symoné at Club Genesis—craves the chance to experience true surrender. The only problem is, she’s set her sights on sexy, commanding Sir Justice, who studies her with his dissecting, arousing stare…but never offers to show her his ropes. Worse, Mercy realizes she not only craves his dominance, she yearns for the notoriously aloof Dom’s affection.
If Kellan Graham let himself believe in love at first sight, Symoné would own his heart. After having his life ripped apart, he’s spent years inventing ways to resist simple lust, but each time this beautiful submissive turns her pleading eyes to him, she ignites a complicated conflagration of desire Kellan can’t fight. He keeps his distance…until it becomes clear he’s not the only Dominant who wants her. Determined to guard his soul, Kellan invites her to kneel for him. But once he does, he realizes that falling in love with Symoné is not only a threat to his well-ordered world, it’s inevitable.
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AboutTheAuthor
USA Today Bestselling Author Jenna Jacob's erotic romance comes from the heart of submission. With over twenty years’ experience in the dynamics of the BDSM lifestyle, Jenna strives to portray Dominance and submission with a passionate and comprehensive voice. Her stories will make you laugh, cry, and may leave you with a better understanding of the fulfillment found in the BDSM power exchange.
A married mom of four grown children, Jenna and her husband lives in Kansas. Her passions include her family, reading, camping, cooking, music, and riding Harleys. She loves to make people laugh with her outgoing and warped sense of humor. If you're looking for hot romance with a kinky twist, pick up one of Jenna's books.
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Saturday, May 27, 2017
























































BECKETT
Lucy Solomon showed up to watch a hockey game in a luxury box wearing jeans and a hoodie, and she didn't give a puck who I was. Now the hotter it gets between us the better my team does on the ice, and I'm getting superstitious. I'm not skating around my feelings--I want to win the playoffs, and I want Lucy. But something's gotta give.

LUCY
After being in a grad school cave for two years, it made sense that I'd be drawn to a caveman. I melted for Beckett Hallstrom's brazen moves and boyish charm when we first met, but things exploded when I found out who he really was. Beck wants me to be his good luck charm, but the press is relentless and now my career is in jeopardy. Every competition has a loser and I'm afraid it's going to be me losing my heart.






















Someone knocked on the door. We froze, breathing heavily and entwined together like a Rodin sculpture. It was too dark for me to see the expression on Beckett’s face when he called out casually, “Yeah?”
“I have that jersey for you, Mister Hallstrom,” a man said quietly. Discreetly.
Awkwardly, Beck removed his hands from every part of my body and turned to the door. He cracked it open, the outside light and sound slicing into the tiny room but thankfully I remained out of sight.
“We’re three up now,” I heard. “End of the second.”
“Shit, three? Okay, thanks.” Beck took a plastic bag from the guy. Then he leaned back against the closed door and reached out with one arm to flick the light back on.
At my position on the counter, the light was bright above my head. I squinted reflexively. And then when I realized how I probably looked, I wanted to turn off the lights and screw my eyes shut again. Oh my god, how embarrassing.
My legs were spread, my jeans gaping open and pushed down on my hips. I was practically sitting in the sink on top of his bespoke suit jacket, but at least my butt hadn’t turned on the water. Yet. My breasts quivered over the shelf bra of my athletic tank top, the tips still wet from his mouth. I was a slutty mess.
But Beck looked at me like I was the Stanley Cup turned into a chocolate fountain.
Without taking his eyes off me, he raised his right hand to his mouth and licked his first two fingers. If he were a metaphor, there would be canary feathers sticking out of his mouth.
“I, uh, just want you to know that this is not normal behavior for me, Beckett Hallstrom,” I said shakily. Understatement of the year.
I couldn’t help it. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t be there. But he was there, all right. I heard the rustle of the plastic and the stretchy snick of him ripping off the price tag. And his rough chuckle.
“It’s not exactly routine for me either, Lucy…” He trailed off as we both realized he didn’t know my last name. My embarrassment graduated to humiliation, and my eyes flew open as he pulled me off the sink. “Careful, there.”
With surprising gentleness he tucked me back in and zipped me back up, before slipping a jersey over my head. The guy he’d sent had actually found one for the opposing team, which I suspected was hard to find in the home team’s store. It was big on me, but so was Beck.
“Solomon. Lucy Solomon.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lucy Solomon.”
His mouth quirked as he pulled my hair out from under the collar of the jersey, like he’d done earlier with his jacket. This time, though, he wound my hair around his wrist and tugged my head back to expose my neck. He pressed his mouth to my thumping pulse, nipping softly.
I sighed. “The pleasure was all mine.”
He stepped back, adjusting his slacks with a wince and shoving half his shirt back into his waistband. “I wish my name was on your back,” he said.
“You used to play?”
He nearly bent in half with mirth. “Oh, Jesus.” He laughed so hard and so long that I wished I knew the punch line. If he didn’t stop soon, he would be the punch line.
“Ahem?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Outside I heard the distinct sounds of another goal for the home team. Not Andy’s team. Not Beck’s team. We both looked to the door. How long had we been in here, anyhow?
I blinked at him. He reached behind me and plucked his wrinkled suit jacket out of the sink. Now that I was extra embarrassed about. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Casualty of war. We should…”
“Yeah, we should. I’m sure people are waiting for you.” I tugged the jersey down over my thighs. It was big enough for me to wear it as a dress. Maybe next time.
He traced my lips with his broad thumb, pressing his own lips together in an obvious effort not to laugh at me. “You’re fucking adorable, Lucy. You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Should I? I already told you I’m not into hockey.”
In fact, I came from the least athletic family on the planet. It was a shock to my computer programming parents that Andy was even tangentially working in sports. Frankly I was proud that I knew hockey was measured in periods and not quarters. With regards to my knowledge of the sport, the bar was pretty low.
“That is the adorable part that I’m looking forward to fucking.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
He smirked. “Let’s say, confident.”
“Cocky.”
“If you want.”
Hmmm. I did want.



































Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.



















Title: Double Coverage
Author: SJ Noble
Genre: Sports Romance
Trailer Designed by: Bibliophile Productions
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb:
Dr. Bexley Vaughn is a genius at the top of her field. When she’s invited to apply her cutting-edge science to help the Memphis Knights football team return to its winning legacy, she jumps at the chance to work with two of the biggest names in the game. What she doesn’t expect is to fall hard and fast for both the veteran quarterback Paxton Davies and Dean Kincade, the eager young rookie looking to replace him. When things spiral out of control both on and off the field, Bexley will have to decide whether to risk it all on an impossible gamble, or to walk away and leave what’s left of her heart on the field.
The only thing she knows for certain is that, sometimes, finding love means re-writing the playbook.




SJ Noble writes sexy, sassy romances with hunky heroes and bad ass ladies.
She is the love child of authors June Stevens Westerfield and Sherry D. Ficklin, who have often lamented that between the two of them they are one amazing writer. Their debut series, The Memphis Knights Football Romance Novels, was born of Sherry’s deep and abiding love for football and June’s deep and abiding patience with her nonsense. They have been friends and partners in crime for most of the 21st century and plan to continue that streak well into their Life Alert years. They live worlds apart because, they suspect, that much awesome in one concentrated area *could* produce some sort of time-altering worm hole. That’s just science, folks.
Author Links:  Website: http://sjnoble.com
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“You know, I wish I had half as much faith in me as you do, Bex.”
He turns his full attention to me, his brown eyes dark and intense. For a moment I stare at him, my heart pounding hard in my chest as if counting the distance between us. When he leans toward me, I rock forward to meet him. There’s a voice in the back of my head screaming, but I stifle the sound. Meeting his lips with my own, I let myself tumble into him, a gentle warmth growing inside me. His hesitance evaporates and he clutches my waist, drawing a soft moan from my lips as my body reacts, taking us both by surprise. His lips are softer than I imagined, his touch gentler. It’s the sort of kiss you never expect, the kind that pulls you in like the tide rolling against the shore.
As soon as he releases me I feel the flush hit my face, my cheeks and ears burning with it. What the hell am I doing? Sliding off the desk I return the can to the fridge, keeping my back to Dean as I fight to steady my breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “If I misread…anything.”
Taking a deep breath, I turn back to him, “No, no you didn’t. I just…can’t…”

Sliding off the table he crosses the room, taking my hands in his, “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispers, sending ripples along my skin. “Someone who takes none of my shit, but somehow seems to understand me better than anyone.” I inhale the scent of him and the room spins, everything becoming foggy, all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening vanish in a puff of smoke. “You can’t blame me for wanting you, for taking my shot.”


I am the thing that goes bump in the night. I am a liar, a protector...a killer...I am Noah Blake.
There is only one light in my darkness, one bright ray in the storm of my life. Lucia DeMarco. And I’ll do anything for her. Anything except show her who I really am...an assassin. Well, former assassin. I don’t really do that anymore...usually.
It would be easier if she didn’t call me names. Asshole, control freak…shameless. It would also be easier if she didn’t look at me with those trusting gray eyes. If I didn’t dream about the perfect curve of her — never mind all that. The point is she’s digging into my world, my secrets, and it’s going to get her killed.
But first, we have another more immediate concern. Lucia is going on a date—With someone else...


Excerpt 1 Brent interjected. "I should probably be going." Lucia gripped his forearm harder. "No. Stay. Noah is going. Aren’t you Noah?" Noah grinned, his devilish smile bringing a mischievous twinkle to his eyes. Looking at the two of them in close proximity, Lucia could see clearly that there was no competition. Noah had dark sooty lashes that framed those intense whiskey-colored eyes, high cheekbones, a straight Roman nose, and full lips that tilted crookedly when he smiled. The man was gorgeous and he knew it. Which was a problem. Because he often used it to get what he wanted. Brent, in comparison, also had dark hair, but not as dark as Noah's. It also didn't fall in disarray where some parts looked styled and other parts unkempt, but mostly looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. Or he'd rolled out of bed with someone. Brent’s eyes were a pale blue. Kind. He was cute in that boy-next-door, All-American kind of way. He didn't look like he belonged in a fashion magazine, not like Noah did. Feeling a little uncharitable comparing Brent so unfavorably with Noah, she had to concede that he was at least tall. Not as tall as Noah, but few men could compare to Noah’s towering height. Besides it wasn’t about looks, or height, or charisma, anyway. Annoyed with herself, Lucia closed her eyes, hoping maybe this was all a bad dream, but when she opened them again Noah was still there. With him in the room, it was hard to breathe. He dominated and sucked up all the air, silently pulling her towards him with his gravitational force alone. It was like poor Brent wasn't even there. "Now, Lucia, I know you'd like to think you're in charge right now. But you're not. You don't know this guy. And you invited him back to your place? I thought I taught you better than that." Brent tried to make an escape again. "Lucia, why don’t you deal with this guy? And we’ll try this again later." "No. You're not going anywhere." Noah pushed himself to a seated position. "Oh yes he is. Because, you and I need to discuss what the hell this is for." He held up the party gift from the bachelorette party. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. In that moment, Lucia prayed to every saint her grandmother had ever forced her to pray to. Prayed to the Virgin Mary then to Jesus. Heck, for good measure, she added Buddha in there too. Just in case. But nothing happened. The ground did not open and swallow her. Instead, she stood with her hand on Brent's arm, staring at Noah as he held up the largest purple dildo she'd ever seen in her life. Brent’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. As mortified as she was, Lucia couldn’t really blame him. The stupid thing was over a foot long, and thick. Really, really thick. Like thicker than a cucumber. She'd certainly never used the thing. It was a gag gift. "How dare you go through my things!" she squeaked. Noah shrugged. "I didn't go through your things. The drawer was open. The thing was practically sticking out of it. Making its escape." Next to her, Brent shifted his gaze to her. "That's not mine," she whispered. "I m-mean it is but I've never used it. It’s a gag gift from a bachelorette party." She swung her gaze to Noah. "Put that down." "Not a chance. I mean, this thing is fascinating. I'm no stranger to toys myself. As far as I'm concerned, they can always enhance the situation. I'm not one of those guys that feel jealous or threatened. Matter of fact, I'm all for a little solo play. But this thing." He held it up and shook it around. "Even I've never seen anything like it. And I've had a lot of practice." He turned his attention to Brent. "No disrespect to you, but I don't think you can live up to this. It vibrates and rotates! Even I feel a little frightened by this thing." Screw the ground opening up and swallowing her whole. Just shoot her now. That would end this quickly. Shoot her. Send her little behind to heaven. Because she was done. Noah was bending the dildo around as it wiggled in his hands. He pushed the button, and the damn thing rotated on its own, making a whirring sound. Oh God. Could this get any worse? Brent fixed his gaze on her. "I'm going to go." “No, please don’t go.” She lunged and grabbed at the dildo, tugging when Noah refused to release it. The silicone material bent in ways Lucia was sure it wasn’t intended to as they fought over it. This was easily one of the most undignified moments of her life but she just couldn’t take it anymore. Noah’s smug face as he watched her struggling to get a better grip on the wiggling, gyrating piece of plastic only made it worse. “Ugh, let go!” In a fit of sudden anger, Lucia kicked him in the shin. And in his surprise, Noah let go of his end of the toy. The next few seconds would forever play in her mind in slow motion as she watched the toy fly end over end and hit Brent directly in the face. “Ouch!” Lucia covered her mouth in horror as the toy fell to his feet. The silence that followed was only broken by the sounds of the still-running toy, wiggling over the carpet. Noah guffawed. “My bad. Did I get it in your mouth? Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean anything. What’s a little dick in the mouth between friends, am I right?”

M. Malone
NYT & USA Today Bestselling author M. Malone lives in the Washington, DC metro area with her three favorite guys, her husband and their two sons. She holds a Master's degree in Business from a prestigious college that would no doubt be scandalized at how she's using her expensive education.
Independently published, she has sold more than 1/2 million ebooks in her two series THE ALEXANDERS and BLUE-COLLAR BILLIONAIRES. Since starting her indie journey in 2011 with the runaway bestselling novella "Teasing Trent", her work has appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than a dozen times.
She's now a full-time writer and spends 99.8% of her time in her pajamas.
Nana Malone
USA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she "borrowed" from her cousin.
It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
M. Malone
Nana Malone