Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Cover Reveal and Giveaway: Very Twisted Things


Series: Briarcrest Academy #3 (all novels are standalones)
Release Date: February 2015
Cover Model: Drew Leighty
Genre: Hot New Adult for 18+

~ Synopsis ~
A sassy violinist who lives next door. An obsessed rock star who watches her through binoculars. And one night when she bares it all. Life will never be the same in Tinseltown.

Description: Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned. But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems. After being cheated on, his only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people. Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who's lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future. He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is. When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s. Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.  

Heart Compact

VTT Prologue 

 ~ Prologue ~

 “Then he came along, and like a twisted piece of metal that’s burned beyond recognition, I emerged from the fire. Different. Changed.” –from the journal of Violet St. Lyons   This wasn’t happening. Clad in a pair of red lacy bikini underwear—his favorite—I sipped on tequila—not my favorite—and glared at Sebastian Tate, sexy rock star and billboard model. Wearing low-slung jeans and nothing else, he paced around my chair in tight circles, his tall frame blocking most of my vision, the lion tattoo on his back heaving as he took deep breaths. Blonde and sporting faint stubble on his chiseled jawline, he looked like the heartbreaker the tabloids said he was. Bad, bad boy. But, oh, so good. He sent me a hard look. Pissed. From my living room in the Hollywood Hills, I gazed out the window at the Santa Monica Mountains, my eyes everywhere except on the glossy nude photos he clutched in his hand. Of me. Of him. Of us. He swiveled his ice-blue eyes at me. Earlier today they’d burned with another kind of fire, but things change fast in Tinseltown. “These will be in the papers. Get ready,” he said, tossing down the pictures on the table, making me cringe. I gazed down at them, my eyes lingering over one of us on my patio, him on his knees with his mouth between my legs as my body arched in ecstasy. My skin burned at the memory, echoes of the passion we’d shared—and now everyone in the world would see. My family. The society people in New York. The board of directors for the orphanage. My stomach heaved at the thought, bile threatening to rise up. Another caught my eye, this one a full color close-up of me crying black mascara tears as I played my violin. Nude. It looked depressing as hell although in truth it had been love that made me emotional. “Remind me to pass on the make-up next time. And to not have sex outdoors. Obviously,” I said, forcing my shoulders to move in a nonchalant shrug like I didn’t care, but he knew the truth. I was devastated by these. And so was he. Because we weren’t supposed to be together. He said my name in that husky voice of his, the one that made me crazy, the one that made me want to rip his clothes off. “Violet—” “Stop,” I said, clenching my fists. Because whatever he had to say didn’t matter. These pictures ruined us, ensuring that he’d leave me for her, the beautiful Bubble named Blair. Bubble, bubble, bubble. I wanted to pop her. Why did I always come last with him? I stood and faced him, tossing back the last of my shot. “First off, I wish we’d never met.” I held my hand up. “No. Wait. I don’t wish that because then I wouldn’t know Spider or Mila. I—I wish I’d never fallen in love with you. Loving means losing. Always. And I was stupid to forget it. I may have to sell this house and move to another freaking country to get away from you, but I’ll do it. I’ve done it before.” I sucked in a breath. “I’ll be fine without you.” Lie. I would likely end up drunk on Mexican tequila, nursing what was left of my heart. He closed his eyes, a dazed expression on his face as if my words crushed him. “We were doomed from the very start,” I reminded him. “You want to be a star, and all I want is you.” He stopped his pacing, a muscle jerking in his cheek as he leaned down until his nose was level with mine. “Then this is goodbye, Violet? You’re giving up on us already?” Did I hear a break in his voice? Impossible. “If I don’t say goodbye first, then someone else will.” Truth. He’d never be mine, simply because he didn’t belong with me. I was a washed-up freak who had nothing but a mansion and a Maserati; he belonged on the silver screen with a pretty starlet on his arm. We were over. Kaput. I smiled, a bitter thing, and sashayed past him, enjoying the hiss of breath when I let my hand drift over his crotch. “This moment is begging for a soundtrack, don’t you think?” I said, coming to stop by the stereo system and cranking up Kurt Kobain’s Smells Like Teen Spirit. Holding my hands up in the horns rocking out signal, I bobbed my head to the beat while he watched, anger flickering across his face. I danced and twirled around, closing my eyes, the music vibrating through my body, my fingers itching for my violin. Bam! My eyes flew open. He’d strode over to me and clicked the stereo off, chest still heaving. He shoved his hands in my hair and dragged my face to his, and I groaned at the fire that blazed in my body. I felt the warm heat of his skin and pressed closer and inhaled. He smelled like bourbon and sex—a rock star’s diet—and I panted, cursing myself at the same time. How would I ever get over him? He pressed his thumbs across my mouth. Gentle. But his voice was cold. “You can’t wait to high-tail it back to Manhattan to your lawyer boyfriend, can you?” “I plead the fifth,” I said, staring at his full lips. I licked my own. “But you can kiss me goodbye if you want. I don’t mind.” We stared at each other until he exhaled heavily and put his back to me, his muscles as taut as the guitar strings he played. He verged on breaking. Yeah, well, welcome to my world. Yet at the same time, I reached my hand out to him. Stupid hand. But of course, he didn’t see it. “So long, V,” he said soft as a whisper, staring at the ground as if I was breaking his heart, when all along it was the other way around. He took a step from me, then another, then another, until finally, he was nothing but a speck. I clutched my chest and wanted to fall to the ground and rail on it. Alone. Again. But tough girls like me didn’t cry over black-hearted boys. Although in his defense, I owed him a thank you for saving me. To show you, I’d have to start at the beginning, the day I lost everything.   © Ilsa Madden-Mills, NYT and USA Today bestselling author --Unedited and may change before publication 

Available Now on Amazon Very Bad Things Very Wicked Beginnings Very Wicked Things

~ Author Bio ~

 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.   She spends her days with two small kids, one neurotic cat, and one husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.   When she's not crafting a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.   She loves to hear from readers and fellow authors.  

★ Sign up for her newsletter★  

 Receive a FREE Briarcrest Academy novella ($2.99 value) plus get insider info and exclusive giveaways!   Want to join her BA Street Team on Facebook? Click here to message Ilsa Madden-Mills


 Win $100 in Amazon gift cards! VERY TWISTED GIVEAWAY a Rafflecopter giveaway Hosted by SBR

Release Day Blitz and Giveaway: Easy Virtue by Mia Asher

~ Synopsis ~

Love is selfish...

My name is Blaire.
I'm the bad girl.
The other woman.
The one who never gets the guy in the end.

I'm the gold digger.
The bitch.
The one no one roots for.
The one you love to hate.

I hate myself too...

Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine? 

~ Excerpt ~
Part I

What is love?
I don’t know.
I’ve never had it.
Is it even real?
No, I don’t think so. I mean, how can I believe in love when I’ve never witnessed it? When it seems to only exist in books and films, or in the lives of more fortunate people than me? Trust me, I know.
Love is my personal chimera.
I am gazing at brown eyes, admiring the richness of the color, the beauty of the man to whom they belong to.
“You’re so beautiful, Blaire … so wet,” he murmurs, his hand going between my legs as he begins to rub me. His fingers spread me open to their soft invasion, tuning my body to his wants and needs, preparing me to be taken as the hot friction of his touch lights a wild fire within my body. It’s not the first time he has touched me like this, but each time feels better and better—the sensations all-consuming and heady.
One finger.
Two fingers.
One finger.
Two fingers.
Over and over again.
His invasion is fast and slow, deep and shallow. His touch is soiled heaven.
As I open my legs wider for him, I wonder if it feels this good because of him or because I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me and making it mine.
“Oh God … I love you, Blaire. I love you … I love you …” he pants in my ear.
“Don’t stop … it feels so good,” I breathe.
Okay, maybe it’s because at this moment in time this man thinks he loves me and no one else but me, however false his proclamation may be.
I close my eyes as his lips land on mine. He kisses me softly as if I’m made out of gold, kissing me with that familiar mouth I’ve seen smile tenderly at me so many times before. The assault of his tongue debilitates me but doesn’t incapacitate me.

“It’s four dollars, gorgeous,” the cute barista says, smiling at me.
I’m about to pay for my cappuccino when I hear a deep, manly voice say, “Let me get that for you.”
A man wearing a beige suit comes forward, standing next to me as he hands the barista some bills. “I’ve seen you around … you’re Paige’s friend.”
I smile, licking my suddenly dry lips. “Thank you, and yes … I know Paige.”
The smile on his handsome face seems to freeze as his gaze follows the tip of my tongue, the spark of hunger brightening his eyes. Inwardly, I smile because who knew it was so easy to make men desire me, particularly when I went without attention for so long.
“My pleasure. Are you,” he coughs, “here with someone else?”
I shake my head and look at him through fluttering eyelashes. “No, I’m here all by myself.” I pause, touching his arm invitingly, and smile. “Would you like to join me?”
He looks around the coffee shop, probably considering if he should, if it’s proper to do so, but less than five seconds later, he’s staring at me once again. “Sure.”
Yes, just like that.

The beige walls are spinning.
The clock is ticking.
The bedsprings creak as the moon cries outside the motel window.
And the man above me kisses me while he fingers me, preparing me for him. Gotta love such a thoughtful man.
I can taste his sweet saliva mixing with mine, and I love it.
“Please,” I beg against his lips, reaching for his hard cock and wrapping my fingers around it. “I’m ready.”
I feel his mouth leave mine as he begins to make his way down my partially dressed body. “Are you sure, Blaire? Are you sure you want to do this with me?”
I open my eyes to witness what I think I want him to do. No, what I’m sure I want him to do. I can’t help the smile I feel playing on my lips as I see him struggling with his conscience. He asks me if I’m sure when he has already fucked my mouth with his cock countless number of times, when his fingers have filled every orifice of my body. Should I laugh? No … I decide to take pity instead.
“I’m sure, so sure,” I say, letting my arms land like dead weight on the bed, the cheap fabric rough against my skin.
“All right.”
When I feel the bed dip between my legs, I instinctively open them for him and watch as he brings a condom package to his mouth. As he rips it open with his teeth, I admire his perfect full lips that emphasize how masculine he is.
I feel pleased with myself.
So fucking pleased because he wants me.
Mr. Callahan wants me. Me. Can you believe it? Chubby Blaire. Ugly and awkward Blaire.
Unlovable Blaire.
I guess I’m not that ugly anymore. My body? What was considered fat as a child is now called boobs and ass. Guys want it. They want me. They want to touch me, grope me, feel me … they want to screw me. And it feels good to be wanted … so good. It makes me feel powerful, and like a potent drug spreading inside your bloodstream, I want more.
I need more.
“Hurry up,” I say, not bothering to be shy or coy about it. I mean, he brought me here to have sex, right?
“Fuck, give me a second, Blaire. Trying to get the damn condom on my dick.”
As he rolls the rubber on his stiff dick, his eyes wonder over my bare chest, my face, my spread legs. Shaking his head as if trying to clear his mind, he mutters, “You’re so beautiful. I want you so much.”
That’s not the first time I have heard those words come out of a man’s mouth. Josh tells me all the time how beautiful I am, how perfect I am, how much he wants me, how much he loves me. But he’s my friend with benefits. The words kind of lose their meaning when it’s the same person saying them to you over and over again. 
“Show me.”
Those two words are all it takes for him to spread my legs wider with his hands and finally enter me with his throbbing dick. Pain shoots through my body, and a groan escapes my mouth when he covers my body with his. I feel his whole length inside me in one deep thrust.
“Christ, you’re so tight.”
He lifts both my legs, wrapping them around his lean waist and starts to thrust. Hard. It hurts. But I like the pain. It sobers me.
And that’s when reality comes crashing down on me. It hits me with the speed and blinding power of a torpedo, making me realize what I’m doing. What I’m giving away and the man doesn’t even know it.
What the hell am I doing?
Proving that you are your mother’s daughter.
Making her proud.
The room is filled with the noises of the man grunting his pleasure and the wet slapping of our skin; it makes me want to gag.  I want to throw up. Maybe it’s the alcohol I drank.
Maybe it’s self-disgust.
The initial pain is gone and now I just feel sore. And strange.
His beautiful face lowers, his lips about to connect with mine, and I feel the bile rise inside my throat. I turn my face to the side, his kiss landing on my cheek. My eyes watch the way the lights in the bathroom illuminate all its used and dirty ugliness.
“Oh God, I’m going to come … I’m going to come … I’m going to come,” he continues to pant in my ear, pumping in and out of my body. Before I know what’s happening, he half-screams and half groans, his body going tense on top of mine.
And just like that it’s over. In less than five minutes I’ve managed to kill a part of me.
Our breathing evens and he pulls out, moving to stand up. I push myself up on my elbows to see him inspect his condom. It still glistens. By the time he lifts his eyes, connecting with mine, I’ve already wrapped my body with the duvet cover.
Confusion, shock, and pleasure reflect in those brown eyes. “I-I didn’t know … I …” His hands go to his hair as we stare at each other. “I didn’t know you were a virgin.”
I shrug my shoulder carelessly, causing the duvet to slide down, exposing my bare breasts to him. His eyes immediately flare with lust. “It doesn’t matter … I wanted it to be you.”
And that’s the truth.
“But nothing. If it bothers you, then forget it happened. I already did,” I say, ending the conversation.
This is my body. I will have the last word. Not him. Not anyone. This is my life. This is my decision.
Without giving myself a chance to doubt my next words, I turn to look at him in all his naked beauty, the gold wedding ring on his finger catching my attention. “Don’t worry, Mr. Callahan … I won’t tell your daughter that you fucked her classmate.”
And with that, I seal my destiny.

~ Author Bio ~
Mia Asher
My name is Mia Asher.
I'm a writer, a hopeless romantic, a wanderer, a dreamer, a cynic, and a believer. And, oh yes…I might be a bit crazy - but who isn't?

~ Social Media Links ~

~ Giveaway ~

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, December 1, 2014

Release Day Blitz and Giveaway: Any Way We Want by Grey Cole

~ Blurb ~

I couldn’t have picked two men more opposing than they. One dark-headed, slightly controlling, but intuitive. The other all unruly copper curls, somewhat bashful, but sensual. Yet, my fall for them felt the same—hard and fast.

I never slept around or cheated, but when you're the girl who got dumped for being too kinky--you realize and accept you are different. Somehow, some way, they had to be mine. My mind spun with what could be, and I set out to entice them with my fantasy.

Only, my plot had a twist…Royce and Shea were already lovers. Luckily for me, they liked to share.

Warning: Contains a headstrong daughter of nudist, hippy parents, an Alpha with seriously protective instincts, positive representations of Asperger's Syndrome and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and oh yeah, M/M, M/M/M, M/M/F, and M/F/M.

~ Excerpt ~
Any Way We Want (Excerpt #1) All rights reserved. © 2014 Grey Cole

Champagne always made her giggly and warm and tingly.  Especially tingly. If she’d had a man, you better believe she would be fucked six ways from Sunday right about now. Instead, Luna found herself finishing off a few reports after saying goodnight to the guys. It had been a stellar day. Phase Two—by far the largest coup in their plan—had been firmly achieved. Royce had broken out the champagne, and Luna managed to consume copious amounts before promising the men she would call a cab when she was ready to head out for the night. They were reluctant to leave her behind, but their desire to do a little personal celebrating of their own was palpable. Far be it for her to stand in the way of the double dose of the pure male need and testosterone that engulfed the room.
Since she and Shea had become fast friends, he had divulged more than his share of their passionate tale to her over the last six months, even though she felt sure that he’d kept it toned down for her benefit. Still, she felt like she could read them. When she noticed little things, like the way Royce’s fingertips would curl possessively around Shea’s bicep at the end of even the briefest touch or when Shea’s eyes would suddenly shine brighter while Royce presented the most boring of facts and figures, Luna would glance to the others present in the room to see if they, too, were aware of exactly how sexual … how sensual … their bosses were. But, it seemed she alone picked up on these things. No raised eyebrows. No gossip around the water cooler.
That made her wonder if she was actually picking up on things, or if she was just perving on the gorgeous duo. Her subconscious picked that moment to send X-rated images flitting across her brain, involuntarily making her squeeze her crossed legs tighter. In an effort to halt her mind’s deviant trajectory, she grasped at the water bottle to her right, only to send it spinning across the desk until it toppled over the edge and skittered across the floor to come to a halt by the door.
Deciding she had probably done enough damage for the night, she saved all her documents and logged out of the computer before jotting herself a note. Sticking it to the computer, she laughed out loud at the message. You were drunk and horny last night, double check your files before sending.  A little unsteady, she made her way to the abused water bottle, figuring she should refill it to stay hydrated. She’d call for a cab and head home to finish off the night with some Pinot and some porn. This time she actually giggled out loud. Pinot and porn. God, if only to have the third P present. Oh well, she thought, wiggling her fingers in front of her face, you’ll have to do.
She ended up tiptoeing down the hall, cringing at how dark and still it was when no one was around. Just when she seemed to become accustomed to the difference, she heard them. Moans and groans and curses and near shouts. Luna froze for a moment before understanding hit her with her blunt force. Where her body tingled before—now it sang. Where she’d been warm—she blazed. Her eyes flew to the partially closed door of Royce and Shea’s office, only daring to listen for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and darted back to her own office.
Her water bottle hit the floor with a clang as she slammed the door behind her. Wincing at the loud noise, she waited a moment to see if she would be discovered before rushing over to her desk. Only a security light from the hall cast a dull ray of light into her office. She eased herself into her chair and spun it so that she faced the windows. Luna’s face burned anew as she recalled the frantic words exchanged between Royce and Shea. Even her wicked imagination had not done them justice.
She could make out her own expression in the glass—pupils blown, hair disheveled, clothes askew. Taking a few calming breaths, Luna closed her eyes tightly, but as soon as she did, images of the two men locked in a passionate embrace flooded her brain.
Fuck me, Royce.
Take every inch of me. You like that don’t you? When I pull your hair, you nearly come undone.
Fuck yeah. Please, Royce.
Luna would do anything to have those words lavished upon her, to be able to say those very things to them. So, she pretended they included her. That she was the object of their desire and they were hers. The little app on her iPad filled with the gay porn blogs she’d become addicted to after meeting the men had nothing on the heat those two created within her. She couldn’t have stopped her hands if she’d tried. The things had a mind of their own when they bunched her loosely flowing skirt around her waist and dove into her panties. Her fingers circled her clit for a moment before dipping into the searing wetness. She fingered herself hard for a moment, even throwing her own hand over her mouth to muffle the obscene noises threatening to bubble from her throat.
When her clit throbbed with need, she pushed her thumb to it.
Repeated the pattern again and again.
When she felt herself on the verge of coming, Luna shoved both fingers in her vagina again.
Rotated them.
Spread them.
She liked it rough. Fuck, did she like it rough. She held her breath, knowing that would make her orgasm all the more intense. Her head slammed back against the chair. Her hips circled to ride her fingers to the finish.
Then her fingers were replaced by Royce’s. Fuck, but they were thick and demanding.
She needed Shea too. She pinched her lips together so that she could remove her hand. That hand flew down to squeeze one nipple. Hard. It was Shea thumbing the bud and then twisting so hard, asking if she liked that. Yes, Shea. Just like that, Luna moaned.
Royce told her to fuck his hand like she meant it, so she did. He needed to know she meant it. She cried out his name.
She bent and bucked and writhed. Then she came.
Harder than she’d ever come before.
Her men smiled at each other. Then at her. Then they kissed, almost chastely, counteracting the wild moment. They kissed her. She tasted them on each other. Royce pressed his fingers into her mouth, and Luna licked them clean before he removed them and sucked her tongue into his mouth.
Luna’s body seemed to melt into the chair. Time was suspended. Her breaths were shallow and hot. Once she opened her eyes, she knew they would disappear, taking their sweet kisses and their panty-combusting commands with them. She almost couldn’t bear it. Right now, their presence was so strong she could almost feel it.
With a deep sigh, she let her fingers fall from her mouth and her breast.  Both hands dropped to the chair with a thud. She giggled again at how deeply sated she was.
Only, her giggle seemed to echo. But it was deeper. Richer. More masculine.
She was drunker than she thought.
Luna’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Open and closed. She finally fixed her stare on the glass where twin gazes of amusement shone back at her. One an intense blue. The other a mesmerizing hazel.
Too late to pretend embarrassment, Luna swallowed her nerves and met their eyes with her own.
“Luna, dear girl,” Royce tsked, “if only we’d known.”
Shea dipped his head and bit Royce’s shoulder. “God, if we’d known,” he groaned.
Luna chose to believe that the champagne made her bold when she brazened, “And if you’d known?”
“That’s simple, darling. We could have celebrated. The three of us. Together,” Royce declared.
Inside, she gasped, even though she hoped she remained steadfast in appearance. But you’re both gay. Why would you want me? Her naïveté won in the end when she whispered, “But how would that even work?”
Royce spun her chair around to face them as they sat perched on her desk. “Any way we want.”

~ Author Bio and Links ~

Grey Cole always dreamt of a book that featured hot male-on-male action that grew to encompass one lucky woman. Okay … maybe Grey really dreamt of this scenario playing out in real life and then decided to purge all those dirty thoughts onto the page.

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~ Giveaway ~

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Sunday, November 30, 2014

Blog Tour: Ryley's Revenge by LP Dover

~ Synopsis ~

UFC Middleweight fighter, Ryley Jameson, swore it would never happen again. He was done with his ex, and over the pain she’d inflicted when she left him. At least, that’s what he tells people. Maybe if he says it enough, he’ll begin to believe it himself.

Regretting her decision to let Ryley go, Ashleigh Warren comes back into town and confronts him. Holding only one secret back, she puts the rest on the line and asks for a second chance. Too bad he’s not going to let her off easy.

Camden Jameson loves his twin brother, but his jealousy runs deep. They may be identical in looks, but that’s where the similarities end. When Ashleigh comes back into Ryley’s life, Camden has the perfect opportunity for revenge. Two birds, one stone.

A journey to the Dark Side affects them all, but only one feels the true sting of revenge.

~ Book Links ~

~ Review ~
5 Stars 

 Omg this book is amazing.  It will leave you speechless. I need to know more about Gabby, Pax and Camden.  I felt so many emotions reading this book. 

Ashleigh knows she made the worst decision of her life leaving Ryley.  She doesn't know how to get him back. But she knows she has to try.  She needs to fight for what she wants.  But can she handle Ryley and his hate?  Can she get over how he instantly went back to his manwhore ways?

Ryley is miserable and doesn't know how to get over Ashleigh.  She broke him, but he can't let people see it.  So he goes through life like he did before he met her.  He doesn't want to take her back, but he loves her still.  He fights it.  But can he stay away?

This book will have you on the edge of your seat wondering what's going to happen next.  This is definitely one of my top reads of the year!!  I love all LP Dover books and cannot wait for more in this series and her second chances series.  She is one of my go to authors when I'm in a book slump. Cannot wait to read Gabby and Paxton's book next!!!

~ Excerpt ~

Smile fading, Camden whipped off his sunglasses and stood, glaring straight at me. For years, it was like looking at a mirror when my brother was around. Now, I could barely tell who he was.

“You want to talk about heading down the wrong path? Okay, let’s do this. What about you? The last thing you need to do is get caught up with that bitch again. Did you forget that she left you for someone else? I’m trying to help you, brother.” His arms flew out to the sides. “You fucked her, she fucked you over . . . now move on.”

“Where’s my phone?” I asked, stressing each word.

Camden huffed and pointed toward the house. “It’s in your room. I’m warning you, don’t get involved with her.”

At first, I thought maybe he was trying to protect me, but looking into his calculating blue eyes, that wasn’t it at all. He had seriously turned into someone else. “And I’m warning you,” I snarled, standing nose to nose with him. He didn’t back down and I sure as hell wasn’t going to either. “Stay out of my life and leave Ashleigh alone. I don’t want to see or hear about you being anywhere near her. You got that?”

“So that’s it. You’re taking her back?” he asked, sounding disgusted.

“That’s none of your business.” Turning around, I stormed toward the house and yelled over my shoulder. “Just stay away from her!”

~ Author Bio ~

USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can’t forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.

Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over nine novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.

~ Social Media Links ~

~ Paxton's Promise Synopsis Releasing DEC 29 ~

She hates him, yet she can’t get him out of her mind.

Female Bantamweight fighter, Gabriella Reynolds, has a bad habit of falling for forbidden fighters. Enter Paxton Emerson. He’s tall, tattooed, and the current UFC Light Heavyweight Champion. Everyone wants a piece of him, and he only has eyes for her. Through no choice of her own, she’s fallen in his debt and he’s now demanding payment. Too bad it doesn’t involve currency. Gabby’s decision to fulfill her promise to him ultimately brings out her true feelings, but also spurs the unwanted attention of another.

Rage’s fixation on his newest obsession reaches dangerous levels. Unfortunately, Paxton Emerson has become a roadblock to his end goal and needs to be removed from the equation—by any means necessary.

Gabby will do anything to save Pax, but what happens when she’s the one who needs saving?