Saturday, January 30, 2016


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Under Covers Final Cover

Halfway through her first year on the job, Melissa Montclair decides the best part of teaching is winter break.
And the best part of break is the Perfect Ten she meets in a bar on New Year’s Eve. Why not celebrate a semester under her belt with a Perfect Ten in her pants? The one night affair is all she hoped for, until she walks into school a week later and sees Mr. Ten is Student Twenty-nine on her roll call.
She should be mortified—and she is—but that doesn’t stop her from banging him again. And again.
And again.
So much for job security.
Posing as an exchange student at Hamilton High is finally the assignment Officer Spence Vega has been hoping for. Now he has a shot at getting to the bottom of the town’s recent molly epidemic. There’s only a couple of problems: first, history is taught by the curvy bombshell he banged on New Year’s. Second, his growing suspicion is that she’s the dealer he’s looking for.
The job was supposed to be an easy in-and-out, not the teacher.
If only they could stop getting under the covers, staying undercover would be so much easier.

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I run my hands across the small of her back softly, swaying against her as she arches into me. We are dancing without music, a sexy tango of clothes and lips. (See what I did there? Tango. Oh wait, that’s Argentina. Never mind.) And soon she is standing in nothing but lace. I run my hands over the swells of her breasts and relish in her gasps and moans. She's wound tight, and I plan to play her like a violin. (That one works much better.) Her bra drops to the floor, and she stands flushed and unashamed before me.
My teacher. Goddamn. I am going to go home and sponsor two more orphans.
"Take off your panties," I order.
She hooks her thumbs into the elastic and spins in a slow circle, leading with her ass. Slowly, she slides them down, her shapely ass still in the air, and lifts one leg at a time, my own private strip show. All we’re missing are the glasses and the chaste updo. Although, truly, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything. She's totally bare, always a treat, and already I can remember her sweet taste on my tongue. I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist, giggling as I spin her around. I set her on the island and kiss her cheeks, her neck, across her collarbone, and down to those tits I’ve been longing for.
Each nipple pebbles under the warmth of my tongue, like they were waiting for this very moment.
Like they were waiting for me. The two new orphans I promised to care for. She drops her head backwards and moans, encircling her arms around my neck. I secure her to me with my right arm and use my left hand to cup each breast as I adore it with my tongue. I can't stop thinking of what sheer perfection her body is. She smells like a honeycomb, tastes the same, and her skin is as soft as silk. Our bodies move together like they were made for one another, calibrated to the other exactly.
It's the most intimate moment I’ve ever shared with someone, and we haven’t even gotten to the sexing yet. I said I was riding a unicorn before, but this girl is a unicorn.
My cock begins to ache in anticipation, rising again to the challenge. I lay her down gently across the island, my own personal feast, and bend over her. I can’t stop my hips from moving as I kiss her again, and work my way back down her body. Past the delicious swells of her breasts, down the tight curves of her stomach, past her cunt smelling incredibly of her sex. I love on her legs and her calves, paying special attention to the tender skin behind her knees and on her upper thighs.
She growls playfully, wriggling her body each time my lips cross over the spot she wants me most, but I don't give in. Instead I give her a single long, slow lick down her blissfully pink pussy and return to her stomach, then back up to her breasts. Her nipples are tight nubs and I gently bite down on each.
"Tease," she breathes.
I only grin wickedly at her. After all, she’s the one who suggested that this last all evening.
"Lick me." She’s (impossibly) even sexier when she commands me.
"Only when you beg me." She might be my teacher, but I can show her a thing or two myself.
She shudders a little. "I never beg."
"Tonight you will."

About Kayti McGee

Kayti McGee is a former Kansas Citian who now follows the Royals from Colorado. Besides writing, her hobbies include travel, cooking, and all thing Whovian. She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make her bio more interesting.



"Some say the past is in the past. That vengeance will hurt both innocent and guilty. I never believed those lies. Once my lust for revenge is sated, I'll say goodbye to hatred. I'll find a new beginning."

She came from a past Arthur "Kill" Killian never forgot. She made him sin and made him suffer. She tugged him from the shadows and showed him he wasn't as dead as he thought. And with her resurrection came betrayal, deceit, and war.

But then they took her. Stole her. Imprisoned her.

Now Kill's carefully laid plans for vengeance are complete. He craves action, retribution-the blood of his enemies. War has begun. War is all they'll know until they've paid their penance. He will get her back-and rewrite their destiny . . .

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There hadn’t been a single moment in the past eight years when I’d awoken and wished I could forget.
Every morning had been a struggle to remember.
Every night a battle between needing to know and needing to forget.
I’d tried to trick my mind into remembering, but either I was too stubborn or too afraid, because it never worked. And . . . as the days turned from hell to heaven and Arthur fell back in love with me, I didn’t really mind that a chunk of my life was missing.
I had him back. Larger than life and even more perfect than any recollection could do justice.
I was content with that.
But living in the silver haze of amnesia, with no past or present, came with its own burdens and trials. It meant I couldn’t find my true self, but it also granted unusual freedom. Freedom because I couldn’t find my true self. I had the latitude to be stronger, braver—all because
I had no notion of who I’d been or what I was risking by choosing
certain paths.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that indulgent laxity . . . that power.
It’d granted me silent strength to chase Arthur even when he seemed unchasable. And it’d helped me find the truth that I’d been missing all these years.
But now, pinned to a table with men gawking at my half-naked form, I wished I could disappear into the void where my mind had vacationed for so long.
I wished I could delete whatever was about to happen.
I struggled against the fingers around my wrists, unable to look up at the men holding me down. My cheek squashed against the table; my toes ached as I dug into the tiled floor, trying to stop myself from sliding and becoming completely helpless.
Rubix stood behind me. The heat of his thighs against my Tshirt and the roughness of his fingers sent my heart spiraling.
Please, don’t let this happen.
Rubix was many things, but a rapist? Would he stoop that low?
The unequivocal answer reverberated through my head.
Especially if such a thing would hurt the one person he hated above all. Arthur would never be able to forgive himself if I was violated so terribly.
It will kill him.
My heart shattered into kaleidoscopic pieces at the thought of destroying Arthur in such a way. Me? I could brave it. I could heal. But him? He’d never be able to look at me again without suffering such awful guilt.
“Why do you hate your son so much?” I whispered, fearing his answer.
Rubix chuckled. “You never guessed?”
Never guessed? “No.” How would I ever guess something so wrong?
“He was supposed to be like me. Instead, he was like her.”
“What?” My forehead furrowed. “Like her . . . your wife?”
“Yes,” he snarled. “So fucking soft. She was always so meek—riddled with indecision and then later with disease. Arthur was supposed to make me proud—but all he did was make me a laughing stock.”
“All because he preferred to use his brain over his fists? Because he chose to go to school instead of smoking crack with the rest of the lowlife prospects?”
Rubix tucked my hair behind my ears. “No, pretty Buttercup, because he chose your family over his own.”
My stomach ruptured. “He didn’t choose us over you. You gave him no choice. Arthur wanted to be good rather than follow morals he didn’t believe in. That doesn’t make him soft. That makes him strong.”
Stronger than you’ll ever be

Excerpted from SIN & SUFFER by Pepper Winters.
Copyright © 2016 by Pepper Winters. Used with permission of Grand Central Publishing. All rights reserved. 

About Pepper Winters
Pepper Winters is a New York Times and USA Todayinternational bestseller. She loves dark romance, star-crossed lovers, as well as the forbidden and taboo. She strives to write a story that makes readers crave what they shouldn't, and delivers complex plots and unforgettable characters that keep readers talking long after the last page is turned.

On a personal note she loves to travel, has an addiction to creme brulee, and is married to an incredible Canadian who puts up with her endless work hours and accompanies her on signings. She's also a firm believer that the impossible can become possible.

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Friday, January 29, 2016


Title: Heated Ride

Series: The Hellions Ride #7

Author: Chelsea Camaron

Genre: MC Romance

Release: January 24, 2016

Cover Designer: Cover Me Darling
The Hellions motorcycle club is a commitment for life, one Ruben ‘Ruby’ Castillo believes in. 

His wife Jenna ‘Vida’ Natera de Castillo has given her life to being his ol’ lady and the mother to their three children. She takes her commitment to her man seriously. 

People change, and over time, passion can fizzle. Life for Jenna falls apart the day Ruby no long-er says I do. 

Keeping the fires burning in a marriage is hard. Will the chaos of the club bring them back to-gether, or is it what pulls them further apart? Will these two find the flame again? Will their love find a new spark on their heated ride through life?

“Oh the FEELS!! This books is a killer on the heart and Tummy! I got teary eyes, a lump in my throat and lots of butterflies.” ~ 5 Star Review Twinsie Talks
“Camaron did an amazing job on portraying feelings, the progression of this story, and I love her thought process for her characters.” ~ 5 Star Review Author Kristin Campbell
“I can’t even begin to tell you how close to home this book hit me!!!....5 heated stars!!! Obsessed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about this book/series!!!" ~ Alpha Book Club

USA Today Bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She is a wife and mom chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond, she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.

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