COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY: Stone by Rie Warren

Welcome to the cover reveal for STONE: AT YOUR SERVICE an erotic romance by Rie Warren, coming September 25th to a book retailer near you! This post is part of a tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Rie will award a Carolina Bad Boys swag pack including an ARC of Stone to a randomly drawn winner during the tour via the rafflecopter at the end of this post (International winner).

Check out this gorgeous cover and find out more about the upcoming release:

And here's what the story is about!

One bad boy mechanic, one sexy romance writer, and an impossible situation. Hell on wheels? More like hell in high heels.

Bad boy mechanic Josh Stone likes to get his hands dirty any way he can—the filthier, the better. Ever since his wife walked out on him and their young son, he’s only had room in his heart for two loves: the kid and cars.

Roped into playing his best buddy’s gay boyfriend during a romance writers convention, the player meets the girl who’s gonna rock his world. Leelee Songchild. Shy, bashful, beautiful Leelee who blushes at the drop of a hat yet writes hardcore smut to rival Josh’s backlist of Penthouse Forum.

The only problem is his hands are tied. Josh can’t stab his old friend/fake lover in the back even though all he wants to do is take luscious Leelee to bed, and maybe, love her. When the truth comes out, all hell breaks loose. Too bad romance is just for books.

WARNING: Uncompromisingly hot sex, hilarious hijinks, and heartfelt romance—STONE is a triple threat.

How about a sneak peek to whet your appetite?

Ramada’s valet parking sucked balls and cost a mint. The hotel was lit up like a fairytale palace—or a whorehouse, depending how you looked at it--with people coming and going. It was busier than Stone's before a holiday weekend, when everyone in the tri-counties seemed to get a flat tire. Bellhops wearing pained grins pushed wheeled-carts toppling over with boxes from the convention attendees through the carousel doors.

I wielded our cart into the lobby, following Nicky as he strolled up to the check-in desk. His demeanor changed the second we walked through the doors. Gone was the scrappy South Cackalackee bruiser who knew how to take a hit and knock a fucker to the ground. He rolled up the sleeves on his oxford twice, neatened his hair back into a slick knot, and greeted people with effortless charm.

While we stood in line and he made small talk here and there, a commotion at the back of the queue drew my attention. A gal wrangled with her cart and then watched—eyes and mouth open wide—as four boxes crashed to the floor. Books, dresses, shoes, wigs . . . lingerie swam onto the polished marble floor.

I noticed her cock-up with the cart first.

Her legs second.

Her tits third.

Her face last.

Holy fuck.

“Who the hell is that?” I whispered, pointing at the babe surrounded by ten tons of shit spilling all over the floor.

Nicky glanced over my shoulder. “No idea. New kid on the block, I guess.”

“I’m gonna go help her.” I shouldered through the crowd and squatted down before her. “Need a hand?” Because one thing Ma had taught me was always help out a woman in need.

She blew a tendril of the lightest red hair from her brow. “I’d sure appreciate it.”

And I was a goner.

I packed her stuff back up under her guidance and stacked it smartly onto the cart, willing myself not to look at her as I stepped back. Definitely not remembering the lace, the frills, the full-on feminine lingerie I’d handled.

“My knight in shinin’ armor?”

Shaking my head, I backed away. I saw Nicky at the elevators, waiting for me. “Not really, miss.”

Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.

You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html

https://www.facebook.com/RieWarrenRomancehttps://twitter.com/RieWrites
http://www.riewarrenerotica.tumblr.com
http://www.pinterest.com/riewarrenwrites
https://www.goodreads.com/Rie_Warren

 STONE LINKS

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22336924-stone-at-your-service
http://www.riewarren.com/series/carolina-bad-boys/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MRPKWAY

Rie will award a Carolina Bad Boys swag pack including an ARC of Stone to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour and another Carolina Bad Boys swag pack including an ARC of Stone to a randomly drawn host. (International winners)

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Follow the Tour to increase your chances!

COVER REVEAL: Black Lies by Alessandra Torre

Title: Black Lies

Author: Alessandra Torre

Genre: Erotic Romance

Releasing: August 25th

Cover Photo: Lauren Watson-Perry, Perrywinkle Photography

This Book is a STAND ALONE

((( Books will Release at $2.99 for the first week, then price will increase to $3.99 )))

*** See Teasers, Excerpts & Giveaway at blackliesbook.com ***

Synopsis:

Brant: Became a tech billionaire by his twentieth birthday. Has been in a relationship with me for 3 years. Has proposed 4 times. Been rejected 4 times.

Lee: Cuts grass when he’s not banging housewives. Good with his hands, his mouth, and his cock. Has been pursued relentlessly by me for almost 2 years, whether he knows it or not. I love 2 men. I want 2 men. If you think you’ve heard this story before, trust me – you haven’t

Teaser:

About The Author:

Alessandra Torre is a USA Today Bestselling author who focuses on contemporary erotica. Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, was published in July 2012, and was an Erotica #1 Bestseller for two weeks.

Alessandra lives in the gulf coast of Florida and is married, with one young child. She enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and playing with her dogs. Her favorite authors include Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn, and Jennifer Crusie.

 

::: Connect with the Author :::

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon Author Page

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COVER REVEAL: Into the Flames by S.M. Lynn

  You can’t outrun your past.  The flames will hunt you until you’re found.  You must embrace it, learn from it, and allow it to help you grow into who you are meant to be.

Celeste knows that she cannot leave the past behind.  It has scorched a dark path through her present and her future.  As she tries to deal with the demons that haunt her and come to terms with who she really is, she realizes what true fear is.  And it’s not Dean Marcus.  The fear that consumes her thoughts is for Ian, for their love and for his life.

You know your past has shaped you but you refuse to bend to its will.  That is when the flames of the past will find you and take their revenge.

Ian knows the truth and his love remains strong.  He wants nothing more than to protect his future and his love at all costs.  He has the woman he loves in his arms.  His greatest desire is to make her his wife.  When more betrayal strikes at his heart, will he be able to overcome those that seek to harm him and the woman he loves?

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      Gavin has been my rock and my refuge in all of this.  He took me back in or rather helped have all my things moved from the house I shared with Ian back to the apartment.  I broke down several times as boxes were carried in and was in no shape to actually go over to the house to help pack my things.  I spent the day on my bed, soaking my pillow in tears.  I don’t know what I would have done without Gavin.  He rarely left my side at the hospital.  He has been home caring for me almost night and day since I returned.  I hate to think about the toll I’m taking on his work and his social life.  I know it’s selfish of me but I can’t function without him right now.  I need someone to lean on and for me; Gavin is the only one.  Ian would have been the only one but…  Well, I don’t want to think about that right now.  Dr. Somers was adamant that I rest my brain.  No excessive reading or watching tv; nothing that would really stress my brain, just rest, is what he told me.  I’ve tried to follow orders as best I can. 

I’d thought about getting a place of my own when I left the hospital but Gavin would not hear of it.  “Gav, I’m so sorry that you have to deal with all this.  It can’t be easy for you.  I don’t blame you with the media circus and everything if you don’t want me to come back and live with you.”

“Stop it.  I won’t listen to another word of that dribble.  You will come home to our apartment and we will eat bad chinese, get drunk and go dancing.  Once you’re feeling better that is.  And there’s nothing you can say to stop that.”  Gavin’s so great to try to cheer me up.  He knows I need someone to lean on and without Ian, well, I don’t know what I would do without Gavin.

My schedule has consisted of wake, run, lay in bed, go for an evening run on the days I don’t meet with Dr. Reeves and then home to shower and go to bed for the night.  It wouldn’t have been too much of a stretch to say I was depressed.  I knew I needed to talk with someone, a professional.  Dr. Somers insisted upon it when I was in the hospital and introduced me to Dr. Reeves.  When I first met with him, I didn’t think I would ever be comfortable enough to share my story with him.  Hell, I couldn’t share it with the people that were closest to me, how would I share it with a complete stranger?  But I guess that is what makes him the professional.  From day one I shared my life with him and he helped me walk through what it all meant for my future.

I’ve tried to contact Ian.  The 100s of voicemails that probably went un-listened to, the texts that are too numerous for me to even fathom, daily emails and calls to his office and the house attest to the fact that I wanted to talk with him.  Everything went unanswered.  I still remember the pain in his voice from that brief time in the hospital.  He was broken.  I’d done that to him.  I wanted to wrap him my arms but couldn’t even manage to open my eyes.  I wanted to plead with him, to explain everything, to tell him it was the only way to protect him, to let him know that I planned to tell him everything that night before Dean came to the door.  I just wanted to stop him from leaving.  I remember hearing the door close and the knowledge that there was no going back hit me full force.  Ian’s gone and I’m left here.  Alone.

Nightmares have plagued me nightly since the attack.  I’m hopeful that therapy will help alleviate them if not stop them all together.  I know they are a manifestation of my fear but I really don’t want to be afraid anymore.  Most nights Gavin has either had to calm me after the nightmare or sleep in my room because I can’t bear to be alone afterward.

Only once do we talk about Dean being at the hospital.  Gavin said he looked like he was studying me.  He didn’t make any move to touch me but kept mumbling about coming back to him, being with him, loving him.  It’s hard to come to grips with the fact that Dean is essentially two people, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde if you will.  There’s the one side that actually seems to care for me but it’s more the kind of care that a master has for his pet.  Then there’s the sadistic side, the side the reveled in my pain; the side that only wants to take, take from me, take from my father, take everything and that would kill me in the process.  That Dean was the one I had come to know so well after our engagement.  I tried so many times to break things off with him; either he would convince me to come back or force me to with threats, eventually I thought my fate was sealed. I had no idea anyone could be so cruel, evil.  But Dean showed me time and again that I had no idea what real evil was until him. 

S.M. Lynn has a Bachelor's Degree in Secondary Education with an English specialization.  She resides in small town Nebraska with her husband and two children.  She writes contemporary romance leaning toward the erotic but enjoys mixing in elements of suspense.

When her family can pry her away from writing and reading, she works in her husband's financial services firm.  Between kids and work there is not much time left over but when she has some, she enjoys traveling, watching Vampire Diaries and scouring Facebook for book deals.

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COVER REVEAL: Anniversary Killer by Alexandra Allred

PRESENTS. . .

Cover Reveal

for

Anniversary Killer

by Alexandra Allred

Release Date: August 14, 2014

Published by The Writers Coffee Shop

Summary:

Allie is back! When a kidnapping, house fire, and murder occur around the corner from Allie Lindell’s house, it’s too much for her to resist. Despite promises to stay away from murder and mayhem, a missing Irish setter named Chester puts Allie on the hunt. Almost a year to the day, Mickey Callahan’s business partner was found dead from a single gunshot wound to the head and nothing but questions surround his murder. Now, Mickey is convinced that the same people are out to get him. After a sloppy kidnapping attempt, no one takes him seriously until the body count starts to grow. The Allie Lindell saga returns with the third book in the series and more drama than ever as Allie continues the struggle to hold on to herself without giving up on her partner and love, maintaining a relationship with her police officer sister and best friend, and keeping up with her caper-loving neighbor who insists on going along on every stakeout.

 

About the Author:

  Alexandra Allred is a former national and professional athlete turned adventure writer turned humorist and novelist. She’s often been called the next Erma Bombeck with a grudge. Her annual Christmas letters, which have frequently made the news, could make the Grinch weep with joy. For a taste of holiday glee, see http://www.allredgreetings.blogspot.com Allred is a writer of fiction and nonfiction alike, but is most proud of the Allie Lindell series. Several close friends from her sports background and personal life have been the source of inspiration for the books. And just like Allie Lindell, Allred grew up with a father who taught her the love of reading a good obituary column. Allred writes for Waxahachie Daily Light newspaper, continues to testify in Washington D.C. on behalf of children with asthma and our need for clean air, and she’s never too far from her gym in Midlothian, Texas. You can always drop her a note at www.alexandratheauthor.com.

Connect with Alexandra Allred on:

Twitter

Facebook

Goodreads

Blog

________________________________ PRESENTS. . . Cover Reveal for Anniversary Killer by Alexandra Allred Release Date: August 14, 2014 Published by The Writers Coffee Shop Summary: Allie is back! When a kidnapping, house fire, and murder occur around the corner from Allie Lindell’s house, it’s too much for her to resist. Despite promises to stay away from murder and mayhem, a missing Irish setter named Chester puts Allie on the hunt. Almost a year to the day, Mickey Callahan’s business partner was found dead from a single gunshot wound to the head and nothing but questions surround his murder. Now, Mickey is convinced that the same people are out to get him. After a sloppy kidnapping attempt, no one takes him seriously until the body count starts to grow. The Allie Lindell saga returns with the third book in the series and more drama than ever as Allie continues the struggle to hold on to herself without giving up on her partner and love, maintaining a relationship with her police officer sister and best friend, and keeping up with her caper-loving neighbor who insists on going along on every stakeout. About the Author: Alexandra Allred is a former national and professional athlete turned adventure writer turned humorist and novelist. She’s often been called the next Erma Bombeck with a grudge. Her annual Christmas letters, which have frequently made the news, could make the Grinch weep with joy. For a taste of holiday glee, see http://www.allredgreetings.blogspot.com Allred is a writer of fiction and nonfiction alike, but is most proud of the Allie Lindell series. Several close friends from her sports background and personal life have been the source of inspiration for the books. And just like Allie Lindell, Allred grew up with a father who taught her the love of reading a good obituary column. Allred writes for Waxahachie Daily Light newspaper, continues to testify in Washington D.C. on behalf of children with asthma and our need for clean air, and she’s never too far from her gym in Midlothian, Texas. You can always drop her a note at www.alexandratheauthor.com. Connect with Alexandra Allred on: Twitter Facebook Goodreads Blog

COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY: How To Reprimand Your Rock Star by Mina Vaughn

How To Reprimand Your Rock Star

By Mina Vaughn

Summary:

In this fun and saucy romance novel, all-star college basketball player Thea dominates on the courts—and off—with a rock star who is determined to win her over.

Thea is a star basketball player at UConn on track to be Rookie of the Year. That is, if she can stay focused on the game. Lately that hasn’t been going so well, as her knee has been bothering her. But that’s not the only thing on her mind…

Ever since rock star Keaton Lowe surprised her in the girl’s locker room, Thea can’t stop thinking about him. On top of his status and enticing ways, he seems to know everything about her. But some of his actions cross the line, and Keaton needs to be punished. Will Thea keep her head in the game, or get distracted by her other favorite pastime—reprimanding her rock star? 

Excerpt:

Set up: College basketball star Thea is surprised in her locker room after a shower.

The tall, gorgeous man stared at me with a smirk. Some fucking punk, sitting under my name and number and pulling a cigarette out of his thick leather jacket. He looked bad, dangerous, and delicious and my body reacted to seeing him with a jolt of fear and euphoria. I skittered back and covered my nakedness, hoping he hadn’t seen me fully naked. I peeked around the corner to get another look at him. I couldn’t help myself.

His blue eyes twinkled at me and he grinned. A lopsided, roguish grin that begged you to join him in sharing the mirth. But I wasn’t about to smile at this fool who was taking up residence in front of my locker. Especially while I was naked. He didn’t look like a student—a few years too old and a few drinks too seasoned, and from the rebellious appearance of his black-polished fingers and calloused hands. His hair, a mess of black roots and blue spikes arranged into a halo of sharp peaks, didn’t look very UConn at all. He looked as if he belonged in a tattoo parlor, not here in my locker room. For a moment, I imagined shoving him against the tile wall and punishing him for transgressing into my domain.

“It’s all right, love, I have your towel right here,” I heard him tease in a smoky, tempting voice.

My heart raced. All I had to do was scream loud enough and Matt would be down here in a flash. I didn’t want to, but it was an option. Just keep it together.

Keeping my nude form out of his sight, I shouted to the intruder. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

A white towel sailed my way and I stuck my wet arm out to grab it. I wiped myself off and discreetly examined the very bad boy who was about to stink up my precious domain.

“I needed a butt,” he said, placing a cigarette between his mocking lips. His sexy, curvy lips that went so well with his stubbly jaw and sharp features. Shit, what was wrong with me? He was invading my turf. He was also unashamedly checking me out from head to toe.

“Take your butt and get out of my locker room,” I growled.

With a flick of his fingers, the unlit cigarette disappeared. I assumed up his leather jacket’s sleeve, but I couldn’t be sure. His leather pants were far too tight to hide a cigarette, and I caught myself staring. Under his leather jacket was a threadbare tee that hugged his lean muscles tightly. I wanted him to take the jacket off. Hell, all of it.

“Whatever you say, Goddess,” he replied. I noted a slight accent, but couldn’t place it. Possibly British. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, looking behind him at the name on the nameplate and the name embroidered on my jacket.

I emerged, pretending to be unfettered by the whole bizarre situation, and nodded. “That’s my locker.”

“Is it now?” he asked, British accent coming through clearly now.

“Thea Papastathopoulos, future Rookie of the Year, and I need my clothes. And my lucky tape.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Tape, eh? What’s a nice girl like you need something like that for?”

I hugged the towel closer to me and tried not to join in his contagious grin. He was such a scamp, this carefree weirdo sitting in the women’s locker room, about to light up. “What’s wrong with tape?”

I didn’t notice his hand reaching around to my supply, but within seconds he was holding my lucky roll in his right hand. “This stuff is far too naughty for a good girl like you. A goddess of war and wisdom.”

I felt my mouth dry up at the oddly accurate yet strange observation. I am a classics major, and Thea is short for Athena. “I need it for my knee,” I said, holding out my hand, keeping my towel pinned with my armpit. “I have some big games coming up. We made it to the tournament.” I nearly clutched my head with embarrassment. How would a punk like this know what the tournament was, or the significance of it? I was making myself out to be an idiot, but I didn’t care. I didn’t go for his type, the gothic, pierced, tattooed kind of guy.

Normally.

“I like games,” he said, tossing the roll into the air and catching it behind him with a flourish.

“And yet you clearly don’t respect rules, given that you were about to smoke in our locker room.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You going to show me how you use this tape, Goddess? Although I admit I’d rather see it binding my wrists rather than wrapped around your pretty knee.”

I reached forward and attempted to take the roll, but he just tossed it in the air again and caught it in his other hand before I could take a swipe. He shrugged off his leather jacket and exposed his muscular arms, which were ensleeved in tattoos. Not wanting to stare, but unable to stop myself, I admired the artwork. Swirling waves up his left arm, words spiraling his right.

I had no idea what to make of him, other than the fact that he annoyed me with his don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and absurd hotness I wanted so badly to ignore. Maybe it was just my nakedness that was making my body think this way. And by that I meant slamming him against the tiles under the water’s spray and relieving him of his leather. I felt my heart pound and I rejected the fantasy. He was an intruder. How did this guy get past security if they stopped me?

I leaned toward him. “My friend upstairs, Matt, is a security guard. All I have to do is call up to him and he’ll be hauling your punk ass out of here. But I won’t do that if you just give me my goddamn tape so I can fix my bum knee and get home to watch the game.” I wasn’t about to ask him about my clothes, so I pretended I was totally cool with being in a towel and waited for his response.

He studied me for a moment, all sexy grin and naughty blue eyes. Baby blue, like the color of clothes you buy a newborn. Powder blue, impossibly clear. Ringed with a smudge of black liner, the color popped even more. And his face, despite being in his twenties or maybe even thirties, had a youthful, almost kiddish quality when he smiled that softened the harsh angles of his nose, cheeks, and jaw. He tossed me the tape.

“What’s your name?” I asked, curiosity overtaking my anger.

“Keaton Lowe,” he said, dipping his voice an octave as he said his last name.

He looked at me expectantly.

I stared back, hot breath flooding in and out of my nostrils.

“Well,” he said, stretching his toned arms and lacing them behind his head, “this tape isn’t going to bind itself.”

I wanted to wring his neck but kiss the smile off his mouth. “What are you talking about?!”

“I might as well do it myself,” he said, and turned away from me. He spun and showed me his handiwork—his wrists were taped together behind his head. My body reacted with a flood of tingles from my hairline down to my panty line. Had I been wearing any, that is.

I looked down. My tape was no longer in my hands. My body took over my mind and I stood over him, looking down at him through a cascade of damp brown curls.

“Have a seat,” he rasped.

Some primal part of me wanted to sit my bare legs down on his lanky, leather-clad body. I wanted to get rough with him, pin him down, and have my way with him. Another part of me didn’t want him bossing me around. It should be the other way.

“No, you stand,” I replied.

His blue eyes sparked and he met my request with a smile that left me dazed and breathless. I felt the towel slide incrementally down.

“I’m glad you want to call the shots, darling.”

I placed my hand on his chest. “Don’t call me darling.”

“Goddess, then.”

Bio:

Kink with a wink! Mina Vaughn is an international woman of mystery and a shoe whore with a heart of gold. When she's not writing her unique brand of fun smut, she's plundering Sephora for any pin up girl makeup she can find. Mina's debut novel, an erotic comedy entitled How to Discipline Your Vampire is about a punishment-seeking vampire who meets a quirky Domme with a serious role play fetish, available now from Simon and Schuster's Pocket Star. How to Reprimand Your Rock Star, a sexy New Adult contemporary romance about a basketball phenom and a world-famous rocker, arrives Summer 2014.  How to Punish Your Playboy arrives Spring 2015.

                                                                                                            

@minavaughn

www.minavaughn.com

Pre-order How to Reprimand Your Rock Star:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/19541oN

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