Pre-order Launch: Moonlight Seduction by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Moonlight Seduction by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Release date: June 26th, 2018

Cover:

700FA6E1-7FDD-42DE-90A0-794F0BB4756C
Synopsis:

The de Vincent brothers are back—and so is the intrigue that surrounds them—in New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout’s sizzling new novel…

Nicolette Bresson never thought she’d return to the de Vincents’ bayou compound. It’s where her parents work, where Nikki grew up… and where she got her heart broken by Gabriel de Vincent himself. Yet here she is, filling in for her sick mother. Avoiding Gabe should be easy, especially when so much of Nikki’s time is spent trying not to be stabbed in the back by the malicious hangers-on who frequent the mansion. But escaping memories of Gabe, much less his smoking-hot presence, is harder than expected—especially since he seems determined to be in Nikki’s space as much as possible.

Gabriel spent years beating himself up over his last encounter with Nikki. He’d wanted her then, but for reasons that were bad for both of them. Things have now changed. Gabe sees more than a girl he’s known forever; he sees a smart, talented, and heartbreakingly beautiful woman… one who’s being stalked from the shadows. Now, Gabe will do anything to keep Nikki safe—and to stop the de Vincent curse from striking again.

LINKS:

GOODREADS: http://bit.ly/MoonlightSeductionJLA-GR

AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2BycJEF

BARNES & NOBLE: http://bit.ly/MoonlightSeductionJLA-BN

BOOK DEPOSITORY: http://bit.ly/MoonlightSeductionJLA-BookDepository

 

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Six years later . . .

It took every ounce of self-control for Gabriel de Vincent to stand back and do nothing. Just stand there and watch him being led away, but that’s what he had to do, because that’s what he’d promised and Gabe tried to be a man of his word.

Sometimes he failed at that. Failed at that in ways that haunted him late at night, but he wouldn’t go back on this.

He’d promised them three uninterrupted months.
That’s what he was going to give them.
His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it as the Rothchilds walked back into the restaurant. He didn’t take his eyes off them, not until he couldn’t see them anymore. Only then did he look at the slip of paper.

Looking down at the drawing of puppy on a piece of blue construction paper, he felt the worst mix of emotions. Sadness. Pride. Helplessness. Hope. Fury that he’d never tasted before. He had no idea how one person could feel all of that at once, but he did.

A wry smile tugged at his lips. There was definitely talent in the drawing. Real skill. The de Vincent knack for the arts was still kicking around it seemed.

His gaze flickered over what was written in a blockish handwriting. He’d already read in three times, but couldn’t bear to read it a fourth time. Not right now. He didn’t want to fold the paper and created creases in it, so he was careful as he carried it back to where he was parked.

“Gabriel de Vincent.”

Frowning at the vaguely familiar voice, he turned around. A man stepped out from behind a truck. Dark, square sunglasses shielded half the man’s face, but Gabe recognized him.

He sighed. “Ross Haid. To what do I owe the honor of seeing you in Baton Rouge?”

The reporter for the Advocate gave one of what Gabe assumed was a trademark half grin; the kind that probably got him into a places and events he sure as hell didn’t belong in. “Headquarters are here. You know that.”

“Yeah, but you work out of the New Orleans office, Ross.”

He shrugged a shoulder as he neared Gabe. “I had to come up to headquarters. Heard through the grapevine that a de Vincent was in town.”

“Uh-huh.” Not for one second did Gabe believe that. “And you just happen to hear that I was at this restaurant?”

The smile kicked up a notch as he ran a hand over his blond hair. “Nah. Seeing you here was just luck.”

Bullshit. Ross had been sniffing after his family for about two months now, trying to get to one of them when they were out at dinner or at an event, showing up at nearly every damn function one of them was attending. But back home, in New Orleans, Ross had trouble getting near them. Well, he had troubled getting to the one he really wanted to talk to which was Gabe’s older brother.

Didn’t require any leap of logic to figure out what was going on. Somehow Ross had heard that Gabe was here, and that’s why Ross conveniently ended up here. Normally he could tolerate Ross’ incessant questioning. Hell, he sort of liked the guy, appreciated his determination, but not when Ross was here and something he didn’t want a reporter finding out mere feet away.

Lowering his sunglasses, Ross eyed Gabe’s ride. “Nice car. Is it one of the new Porsche 911s?”

Gabe raised his brows.

“Family business must be going well. Then again, the family business is always going strong, isn’t it? The de Vincents are old money. The one percent of the one percent.” Gabe’s family was one of the oldest, linked all the way back to the days the great state of Louisiana was being created. Now they owned the most profitable oil refineries in the Gulf, coveted real estate all around the world, tech firms, and once his older brother married, they’d be in control of the one of the largest shipping industries in the world. So, yeah, the de Vincents were wealthy, but the car and nearly everything Gabe owned, he bought it with the money he worked for. Not the money he was born with.

“Some say that your family has so much money, that the de Vincents are above the law.” Ross straightened his sunglasses. “Seems that way.”

Gabe really didn’t have time for this. “Whatever you want to say, can you stop beating around the damn bush and get to it? I’m planning to head home sometime in the next year.”

The reporter’s smile faded. “Since you’re here and I’m here, and it’s damn hard to talk to you all any other time. I want to chat about your father’s death.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I don’t believe it was a suicide,” Ross continued. “And I find it also convenient that Chief Cobbs, who openly and publicly wanted your father’s death investigated as a homicide ended up dead in a freak car accident.”

“Is that right?”

Frustration hummed off Ross about as loud as the damn locusts. “Is that all you got to say to me about this?”

“Pretty much.” Gabe grinned then. “That and you have an overactive imagination, but I’m sure you’ve heard that before.”

“I don’t think my imagination is nearly vast enough to compete with all the things the de Vincents have had their hands in.”

Probably not.

“Okay, I won’t ask you about your father or the chief.” Ross shifted his weight as Gabe opened his driver’s door. “Also heard some interesting rumors about some of the staff at the de Vincent compound.”

“I’m started to feel like you might be stalking us.” Gabe placed the drawing facedown on the passenger’s seat. “If you want to talk about staffing, then you need to have a chat with Dev.”

“Devlin won’t make time to talk to me.”
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.”
“It seems like it is now.”
Gabe laughed, but the sound was without humor as he reached inside, grabbing his sunglasses off the visor. “Trust me, Ross, this isn’t my problem.”

“You may not think so now, but that’ll change.” A muscle twitched along the man’s jaw. “I plan to blow the roof of every single damn secret the de Vincents have been keeping for years. I’m going to do a story that not even your family can pay to keep quiet.”

Shaking his head, Gabe slipped his sunglasses on. “I like you, Ross. You know I’ve never had a problem with you. So, I just want to get that out of the way. But you have got to come up with some better material, because that was cliché as shit.” He rested his hand on the frame of the car door. “You’ve got to know you’re not the first reporter to come around thinking they’re somehow going to dig some skeletons out of our closets and expose us for whatever the hell you think we are. You’re not going to be the last to fail.”

“I don’t fail,” Ross said. “Not ever.”
“Everyone fails.” Gabe climbed in behind the wheel.
“Except the de Vincents?”
“You said it, not me.” Gabe looked up at the reporter. “Some unasked for advice? I’d find another story to investigate.”
“Is there where you’re going to tell me to be careful?” He sounded oddly gleeful by the prospect. “Warn me off? Because people who mess with the de Vincents end up missing or worse?”

Gabe smirked as he hit the ignition key. “Doesn’t sound like I need to tell you that. Seems like you already know what happens.”

Nikki stood in the center of the quiet and sterile kitchen of the de Vincent mansion, telling herself that she was not the same little idiot that almost drowned herself out in the pool six years ago.

She sure as hell wasn’t the same idiot who had spent years making an utter fool out of herself, chasing after a grown man. An act, which resulted in one of the worst ideas she’d ever had in the history of bad ideas.

And Nikki had a remarkable history of making not the brightest of all decisions. Her dad said she had a bit of wild streak in her, taking after Pappy, but Nikki liked to blame the de Vincents for the recklessness. They had this really bizarre talent of making everyone around them stick one toe into Recklessville.

Her mother claimed that most of Nikki’s bad decisions came from having a good heart.

Nikki had the habit of picking up strays—stray cats, dogs, a lizard here and there, even a snake, and humans, too. She was a bleeding heart, hating to see anyone she cared about in pain and she was oftentimes a bit overly affected by the troubles of strangers.

It was why she avoided the TV around the holidays, because they always played those heart-wrenching videos of freezing animals or children left to starve in war-torn countries. She hated everything about New Year’s Eve because of that and spent the week between Christmas and the first of January moping around.

There was a lot of Nikki that was the same as she was the last time she walked through this house. She still got emotionally invested in animals that didn’t belong to her—that was why she volunteered at the local animal shelter. She still couldn’t turn away from someone who needed help, and she still found herself in weird situations but reckless? Wild?

Not anymore.

Not since the last time she’d been in the house, right before she left for college. That had been four years ago and now she was back, and nothing and everything had changed.

“You okay, hon?” her father asked.

Turning to find her father standing just inside the large kitchen, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and smiled widely for him. Goodness, her dad was starting to look his age, and that scared her—truly terrified her. Her parents had her late in life, but she was only twenty-two, and she wanted another fifty years or so with them.

Nikki knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Especially now.
She forced those thoughts from her head. “Yes. I’m just . . . it’s weird being in here after being gone so long. The kitchen is different.”
“It was remodeled a few years back,” he replied. The mansion was constantly being remodeled it seemed. After all, how many times had this place caught fire since it was built? Nikki had lost count. Her father drew in a deep breath, and the lines around his mouth became more pronounced. He looked so tired. “I don’t know if I’ve said this to you or not, but thank you.”

She waved him off. “You don’t need to thank me, Dad.”

“Yeah, I do.” He walked over to where she stood. “You went away to college to do something better than this—better than cooking dinners and running a household. To become something better.”

Offended on his behalf, she crossed her arms and met his weary gaze. “There’s nothing wrong with cooking dinners and running a household. It’s good, honest work. Wok that put me through college. Right, Dad?”

“We take great pride in our job. Don’t get me wrong, but what your mother and I did all these years was so you could do something else.” He sighed. “So, it means a lot that you would come home to help us out, Nicolette.”

Only her dad and mom called her by her full name. Everyone else called her Nikki. Everyone except a certain de Vincent who shall remained nameless. He and only he called her Nic.

Her parents had worked for the de Vincents, one of the wealthiest families in the States and possibly the world, since long before she was born. It was weird growing up in this house, being privy to a lot of strange stuff—things the public has no idea about and would probably pay a large sum of money to learn. And personally? It was like she had a foot in two different worlds, one absurdly wealthy and the other middle working class.

Her father was basically a butler, except she always had a small suspicion that her father had . . . taken care of things for the de Vincents that no normal butler did. Her mother ran the day-to-day functions of the house and prepared the dinners. Both her parents loved working for the family and she knew both had planned to continue to the day they died, but her mom . . . .

Nikki’s chest squeezed painfully. Her mom was not well and it had happened so fast, coming out of nowhere. The dreaded C word.

“Honestly, this is perfect. I got my degree and this will give me time to figure things out.” In other words, figure out what the hell she wanted to really do with her life. Get to work or go for her master’s? She wasn’t sure yet. “And I want to be here while Mom is going through everything.”

“I know.” His smile wobbled a little as he brushed a strand of blondish-brown hair out of her face.

“We could’ve hired someone else to step in while your mother—”

“No, you couldn’t have.” She laughed at the mere thought of that. “I know how weird the de Vincents are. I know how protective you two are of them. I know how to keep my mouth shut and not see what I’m not supposed to. And you two don’t have to worry about someone new not keeping their mouth shut and not seeing what they’re not supposed to.”

Her dad arched a brow. “A lot of things have changed, honey.”

She snorted as she took in the white marble countertops with gray veining. Mom had filled her in on some of those changes during one of her chemo treatments. After all, what else did they have to talk about while she was being pumped full of poison that would hopefully kill only the cancer cells building in her lung?

Things in the de Vincent mansion that had changed.

For starters, the patriarch of the family, one Lawrence de Vincent, had hung himself a few months back. An act that had shocked her because she figured that man would’ve outlived a nuclear bomb. And Lucian de Vincent apparently had a live-in girlfriend and they were about to move into their own place. That was even more insane, the idea of Lucian settling down.

The Lucian she remembered put the play in player. He’d been an incorrigible flirt, leaving a string of broken hearts across the state of Louisiana and beyond.

She hadn’t met his girlfriend yet since they were away on some kind of trip; the rich rarely seemed to have much of a schedule. She just hoped whoever his girlfriend was, she was nice and nothing like Devlin’s fiancé.

Nikki might not have been around the de Vincents in four years, but she remembered Sabrina Harrington and her brother Parker.

Sabrina had just begun seeing Devlin the year before Nikki had left for college and that had been a year’s worth of snide comments and rather impressive disdainful looks. Nikki could deal with Sabrina though. If she was the same woman as she was before, she could be as mean as a cornered rattlesnake, but Nikki normally didn’t even register on her scale of people to pay attention to.

Parker though?

Nikki suppressed a shudder, not wanting to worry her father who was watching her like a hawk.

Parker had often stared at her the way she’d wanted Gabe to look at her, especially when she had grown brave enough to move from a one-piece bathing suit to a two-piece.

And Parker . . . he had done more than look.

She drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t going to think about Parker. He wasn’t worth a single thought.

What happened to Lawrence, and Lucian’s new romance weren’t the only things her mom had told her. She filled Nikki in on the whole sister reappearing and then disappearing again thing. Something that she knew the general public had no idea had even happened. She didn’t know the details around it, but Nikki knew that in typical de Vincent fashion, it had to the most drama-llama-est thing possible.

And she also knew better than to ask questions about it.
Her father stepped back. “The boys are all out.”
Thank God and baby Jesus.
“Devlin should be back this evening for dinner. He likes dinner to be ready at six. I believe Ms. Harrington will be joining him.”
Well, thanking God and baby Jesus lasted all of five seconds. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and make a gagging sound. “Okay.”
“Gabriel is still in Baton Rouge, or at least, that’s the last I heard,” her father continued, ticking off the brothers’ schedules while she wondered what Gabe was doing in Baton Rouge. Not that she cared. She totally didn’t care whatsoever, but she wondered if it had anything to do with his woodworking business.

The man was talented with his hands.
Really talented.
Her cheeks flushed as an unwanted memory of how his calloused palms felt pierced her straight through the chest. Nope. Not going there. Absolutely not.
There were examples of Gabe’s skill all around the house—the furniture, chair rails, and trim, even in the kitchen. All of the woodwork was designed and created by Gabe. As a little girl, she’d been fascinated with the idea of picking up a piece of wood and turning it into something that was truly a work of art. That fascination had turned into quite the hobby for Nikki.

It had started one long, fall afternoon when she was ten and she’d found Gabe outside, whittling away on a piece of wood. Out of boredom, she’d asked him to show her how he did it. Instead of shooing her off, Gabe had given her small scrapes of wood and showed her how to use a chisel.

She’d gotten pretty good at it, but she hadn’t picked up a chisel in over four years. Nikki refocused on what her dad was telling her.
“We’re a little understaffed right now,” her dad continued. “So there’s a lot of dusting in your near future. Devlin is very much like his father.”

Great.

That was not a compliment in her book.
“Is it the ghosts?” She half joked. “Scaring off the staff?”
Her father shot her a look, but she knew damn well that her parents believed this

house was haunted. Hell, they wouldn’t even come here at night unless it was a dire emergency. None of the staff would and everyone in town knew the legends about the land the de Vincent mansion sat on. And who hadn’t heard about the de Vincent curse more than a time or two?

Being in this house as much as she had been in the past, she had seen some weird things and heard some stuff that couldn’t be explained. Plus she grew up within minutes of New Orleans. She was a believer, but unlike her friend Rosie, whom she met in college, she wasn’t obsessed with all things paranormal. Nikki operated on the whole if- you-don’t-acknowledge-ghosts-they-can’t-bother-you theory and so far it had worked so far wonderfully.

Then again, Nikki had only come here at night once in her life, and that had not turned out well at all. So maybe ignoring ghosts didn’t work, because she liked to think

she was possessed by one of ghosts that supposedly wandered the halls, and that was what provoked her to do what she’d done that night.

Nikki was well aware of how the house was run because she’d spent most of her summer vacations in the house watching her mom, so she got to work pretty quickly once her father left her.

First thing first was tracking down what staff they did have at the house. Understaffed her butt! The only staff they had left was her dad; the landscaper who was constantly mowing grass it seemed or re-mulching; the de Vincent driver; and Mrs. Kneely, an older woman who’d done the laundry services since Nikki was a little girl.

Beverly Kneely actually owed her own laundry business and only came to the house three times a week to take care of the linens and clothing.

According to Bev, whom she found in the large mudroom at the back of the house, packing up clothing that needed to be dry-cleaned, over the last couple of months, nearly everyone had quit.

“So, let me get this straight.” Nikki smoothed back a few strands that had escaped the knot she’d pulled her hair up in. “The waiters are gone, as are the maids?”

Bev’s buxom chest heaved as she nodded. “It’s just been your parents for the last three months. I think all that work was wearing poor Livie down.”

Anger flashed through Nikki. Hadn’t the de Vincents noticed how thin and tired her mom had been getting? How quickly she got out of breath? “Why didn’t the de Vincents hire someone to help?”

“Your father tried, but no one around here wants to come close to this place, not after what happened.”

She frowned. “You’re talking about Lawrence? What he did?”

Bev tied up the bags. “Not like that wasn’t bad enough, but that wasn’t the straw the broke the camel’s back around here.”

Nikki had no idea what she was talking about. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve been updated on all the crazy. What else happened?”

Looking around the room, Bev arched her brows as she headed toward the side door. “Walls got ears. You know that. You want to know what’s been going on here, you ask your father or one of the boys.”

Her lips pursed. She was so not asking the boys.

Bev stopped at the door and looked back. “I don’t think Devlin is going to be happy when he sees what you’re wearing.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” It was jeans and a black tee shirt. No way was she going to dress like her mom or her dad. Her willingness to help her parents did not extend to wearing uniforms.

She looked down at herself and saw the hole just below the knee.
Nikki sighed.
Devlin was probably going to have a problem with the hole, but what Nikki wanted to

know was what the hell had happened in this house to drive almost all the staff away?
It had to be something.
Not just because the de Vincents paid extraordinarily well, but also because her father hadn’t told her.
And that meant it was something really bad.

Moonlight Seduction is out June 26th, 2018!

PREORDER CAMPAIGN:
http://bit.ly/MOONLIGHTSEDUCTIONS-PREORDEROFFER

RULES/INFO:

• Preorder an ebook or print copy of Moonlight Seduction by Jennifer L. Armentrout and get an exclusive de Vincent bonus story sent via email!
• Open Internationally
• You must upload a copy of their preorder receipt of Moonlight Seduction to be eligible.
• The de Vincent bonus story will be emailed after the release Moonlight Seduction (6/26/18)
Jennifer L. Armentrout Author Bio:

2038CED5-8D9E-4751-A350-4044BFA1337A

# 1 New York Times and # 1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. she spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki. In early 2015, Jennifer was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, a group of rare genetic disorders that involve a breakdown and death of cells in the retina, eventually resulting in loss of vision, among other complications. Due to this diagnosis, educating people on the varying degrees of blindness has become of passion of hers, right alongside writing, which she plans to do as long as she can.
Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance.

She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her Wicked Series has been optioned by PassionFlix. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA. Her adult romantic suspense novel TILL DEATH was a Amazon Editor’s Pick and iBook Book of the Month. Her young adult contemporary THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER is a 2017 RITA Award Winner in Young Adult Fiction. She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.

She is the owner of ApollyCon and The Origin Event, the successful annual events that features over a hundred bestselling authors in Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult Fiction, panels, parties, and more. She is also the creator and sole financier of the annual Write Your Way To RT Book Convention, a contest that gives aspiring authors a chance to win a fully paid trip to RT Book Reviews.

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Release Day Blitz: Sweet Revenge by Natalie Wyre

SWEET REVENGE by Natalie Wrye is available now! You can get your hands on this steamy sports romance today – read the prologue below and pick up your copy!

About SWEET REVENGE

Men. Manuscripts. And Manolos…

I was failing at two of the three.

Dating life aside, when you’re an agent for a successful publishing press, climbing the corporate ladder isn’t your biggest problem… Staying there is.

So, when the biggest football star in the world wants to write a tell-all about his life and career, I put my bid in right at the top.

My only issue?

Mr. Playboy Pro is none other than Colton Evans, my CEO’s step-brother.

A walking wet dream with dark features and an even darker past, I find that behind the fan-favorite smile is an arrogant bastard.

The worst part? I think I like it.

But when getting to the truth of Colton’s sordid story takes an unexpected turn to trouble, everything I love will be on the line, including my job… and my heart.

 

Get your hands on SWEET REVENGE: http://amzn.to/2CtJZK6

 

Read the Prologue of SWEET REVENGE

COLTON

There’s only three ways to deal with the world when about half of the English-speaking people in it know your name by heart.

And I’ve failed at all three.

It was the fame. A large part of me fucking hated it.

I couldn’t ignore it. Couldn’t embrace it. And when I tried to dive dick first into it and literally fuck the world, that plan fell stale, a taste that long stopped having any flavor.

That third method of coping with international stardom… is why I’m here right now.

At this event. In this very state. Standing in an overpriced pool house on an overcast grey May day, staring at myself. I meet my own smoky blue eyes in the rain-streaked glass as I try to shake off seven whole nights without sleep.

I can tell one thing: The Florida fucking heat isn’t helping.

But the least helpful part of it all is the woman on her knees gazing up at me, her green eyes pleading, her pink mouth pressed into an “O” as she inches toward me…like a human Eureka vacuum cleaner, ready to suck me into oblivion. I stare at her, feeling the effects of the tequila in my system… and nothing more.

I’d tell her to leave, but old habits die hard. Old obsessions die even harder, and despite my need to have nothing to do with the woman currently crawling to me on the tiled floor, my cock is still half solid, a dull passion stirring in me as I tell myself to get it over with.

My fuck fix. To quit it and head home.

I shouldn’t have come here anyway. I should be getting ready for the season. Not traveling a hundred miles to see a man who wants nothing to do with me, to a wedding I wasn’t even fucking invited to…

Hiding out in the pool house hasn’t worked. Ol’ dustbuster on her knees found me. It’s only a matter of time before others do, including the paparazzi, whose cameras I’ve been trying to avoid for three days in the wake of another rumor about me and some stoned-out starlet—a rumor that, like the recent others, are so wrong it’s laughable.

But I can’t shake the slimy bastards. And I remember when I used to eat this shit up, devour the adoration for breakfast, drink from the well of women, money and notoriety at night.

Such were the “perks” of stardom, the tumbles on the quest for success. A success nobody ever saw for me… including my own father. I was his bastard, his dirty little secret…

My mother was a convenient fuck for him, his mistress by proxy. Nothing more.

The great Victor Foxx barely acknowledged the other son he fathered, and on the few chances he did, this son—the brown-haired, bright-eyed boy I’d been, had worshiped him, wondering where he went every time he stepped out of the door, not knowing for years that it was to his other child—the one that mattered.

Being a family was something we never could be….

Not when one side of the family grew up as trash, and the other as royalty. I could never be a true Foxx like Brendon, Victor’s darling boy. The prince and the pauper story couldn’t have been more true. Only back then… I was the pauper. And in our father’s eyes, Brendon would always be the prince.

We were two sides of a fucked-up coin.

I barely blinked when my publicist first mentioned how the book I’d written might bring down my very distant brother with it because truly, if that was the case, then so be it. It’s not like my “brother” ever gave a fuck. He sneered at our side of the family, and it didn’t take being ignored for years upon years to be reminded of that fact.

The truth?

I was going to get my sweet revenge against my father, Victor Foxx, either way, and if that meant that my step-brother/half-brother/whatever-the-fuck was going to take a tumble with dear old dad, well… That might even make the revenge just that more sweet.

I think of the tell-all I’ve written and find my libido again, my cock finally stirring to stand straight up. I grab the girl as she finally slithers between my legs, pulling her to her feet, knowing I need to make this quick. She yelps as she starts to stand on her two heels, her eyes excited and wide, her exhales breathy as I turn her towards the back of the couch, sliding my body behind hers, trying to will my hard-on to stay up.

Fuck, I’m out of practice…and hoping that the present will live up to my wild past. I rumble in her ear.

“Spread your legs.” And she widens her stance, shivering. Reaching for the hem of her black pencil skirt,

I slide my hands along the outside of her thighs. I’m just skimming her hips when the sound of loud laughing pulls my attention to the door, keeping it.

We’ve got some visitors, unwelcome ones at that. A man in a black tux and bridesmaid in peach. The woman is a fucking knockout. It’s the only thought I allow myself to have as I make a rush for the bathroom door, pinning my little blower girl behind it. I close it softly, listening to the conversation beyond it.

My breathing grows even.

“Shit,” the man curses. “That was a close one.”

“I know,” the woman breathes on a laugh. I hear rustling and couch cushions give way as the couple plops down in the main room where we just were.

“We almost got caught boning by Foxx’s batty step-mom…” The admission makes my breathing stop completely. “But what would have been worse,” the stranger continues, “is if Foxx had caught her there. I don’t care how many years it’s been. If Foxx caught his father’s other family at his wedding, he’d flip his shit.”

“But isn’t she like a mom to him?” the woman asks.

“No,” I hear from the other side. “She was his father’s mistress. Two completely different things. Foxx’s father fucks up in his affair, has a kid. Foxx’s mother leaves his cheating bastard of a dad to head back to Bumfuck, Tennessee—has a total breakdown. I met his mom from time to time, when I was growing up. Fucking meltdown city. The mistress made off with a settlement to keep quiet… and Foxx isn’t an easy one to forgive and forget.” He stops. “I don’t know even know what she was doing here.”

“Invited by the blushing bride, most likely,” she murmurs. “Man, my sister sure knows how to screw up a good time.”

“Tell me about it.” I hear the soft, muffled sound of lips touching. “I didn’t even get to make you come yet…” The voice trails off to the sounds of tittering in return. “But there’s still time before the reception…” The tittering turns to moans, and just when things start to get really interesting, the noises stop, followed by a crescendo of flutes and violins.

The reception is beginning.

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck,” the blonde out there swears. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Dammit, Elena,” the man in the tux grits out. “Five fucking minutes.”

“No,” she laughs.

“Three…” he pauses. “And a half.”

“Come on,” she beckons. The couch cushions groan. “We’ve gotta go before we’re missed.”

The sounds of footsteps echo outwards away from the bathroom. Heavy glass slides across the floor and with my ear to the wood, I finally hear the footsteps go faint as they head down the small hall and out the door. The screen door shuts with a clang, and I listen closer. When at last I hear nothing but the music, I make my way out into the main floor, tugging my Eureka sucker behind me.

When I walk out onto the floor, the door opens once more. And this time, it’s the man of the hour—Foxx, standing there, looking at me. His white collar is undone, his tuxedo cummerbund half-hangs as he stares in my direction, his face unmoving, his jaw twitching as he clenches his elegant black bow tie. A bow tie belonging to a groom.

Looking nothing like a man who’s just been married, I can see the anger in his eyes, his face growing hard and rigid beneath a slick blond mane that grows paler with each ticking second. His eyes flit to the woman behind me, then back at my face. He exhales with a sigh, his shoulders falling.

His voice is gritty. “Hello, Colton.”

I glare back. “Hello… brother.”

 

The first two standalone novels in the Revenge series are on sale now – you can grab them both for .99c each! Find out more below!

 

About RISKE & REVENGE

Love is the strongest emotion in the world…next to hate.

I knew hate. Had known it since I was seventeen. For me, it was love turned on its head, a product of hurt and fear—twisted, tied up…and placed on the sculpted shoulders of Ethan Riske.

***

Dayton, Tennessee.

Home to the best cow-tipping in the world, the biggest hot dogs, and the lousiest sex.

Or so I’d heard…

They were right about the first two. Ethan Riske proved them wrong about the third and at seventeen, he and I spent a summer under the stars, squeezing our way out of trouble, sweating and panting among the haystacks.

Until he left.

Nine years later, when a huge publishing house tries to buy my small press, I storm into the office of the CEO to find him.

Same cocky grin. Different name.

And suddenly all I can think about is exacting revenge on Ethan Riske for breaking his contract…and my heart.

But there’s someone who wants revenge even more than I do. As I begin to fall for the new Ethan, will the sins of the old one come back to haunt us?

Get your hands on RISKE & REVENGE for .99c: http://amzn.to/2EBuxBC

About PERFECT REVENGE

My name is Lukas Griffin, and I put the “cock” in the word “cocky”…amongst other things, of course. The only exception to this rule…is her.

***

I’d simplified my life into a three-part process:
I binged. I screwed. I came…right up until the moments when I would come to.

And I was content with it staying that way.

Until I met her. For the first time. At the engagement party…we both planned.

Mouthy dancer.
Blonde bombshell.
Elena.

My best friend’s soon to be sister-in-law.

Enemies before we’d ever laid eyes on each other, we were a match made in Hell—a cautionary tale of how not to get along.

But when we unwittingly enter a game where enemies are lovers, family can’t be friends and friends become enemies, can we prevent the spark between us from turning into a deadly inferno?

Get your hands on PERFECT REVENGE for .99c: http://amzn.to/2C5tcBh

About Natalie Wrye

Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense.

A Jersey Girl living in the South, when she’s not obsessing over a new Netflix series or yelling at college basketball games on TV, she’s usually crafting sexy stories about hard-bodied men and the strong-willed women who crave them.

She loves it when people get weird with her on Facebook, NatalieWrye.com or NatalieWrites@NatalieWrye.com.

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

 

Cover Reveal: Tap That by Jennifer Blackwood & RC Boldt

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The beer’s not the only thing getting tapped.

Tap That by Jennifer Blackwood and RC Boldt is coming soon on MARCH 6th!

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Amazon: http://amzn.to/2C1ty7w
iBooks: https://goo.gl/vpVrvq
Kobo: https://goo.gl/AEdHtN
Nook: https://goo.gl/kAVbDp

Reid
I have a problem. A doe-eyed brunette in the form of my new co-worker. She’s taken my promotion and I intend to do everything in my power to get it back. To prove I’m the man for the job.

Nobody warned me that one night with her would change everything.

Callie
The rules are simple. Complete two months of training at my new job at On Tap Brewery and I’ll keep my manager position. Fail, and I’ll have to crawl back to my parents and die a slow and painful death at a desk job.

I never would’ve guessed I’d have to choose between this promotion…or love.

Goodreads TBR: https://goo.gl/ztRfzi

TAPTHAT_PROMO1

TapThat_TEASER1

About the Authors:

Jennifer Blackwood is an English teacher and contemporary romance author. She lives in Oregon with her husband, son, and poorly behaved black lab puppy. When she isn’t writing or teaching, she’s binging on Veronica Mars episodes and white cheddar popcorn.

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2E99x0o
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJenniferBlackwood
Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1541291366201625/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jen_blackwood
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jenblackwoodauthor/?hl=en

RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl.

Email: rcboldtbooks@gmail.com
Facebook Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2iNvOqS
Website: http://www.rcboldtbooks.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rcboldtauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RC_Boldt
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2iNCOnF
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http://bit.ly/2iRJVxM

Cover Reveal: Second Chance Charmer by Brighton Walsh

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Second Chance Charmer by Brighton Walsh
Publication Date: March 19th, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Willow Haven’s content. Okay, that’s a lie, but she has tried her damndest. Trouble is, it never sticks. Second oldest in a family her town was named after, she’s always felt the pressure. From the townspeople, from her sisters, but most of all from her daddy—the original Good Old Boy and Havenbrook’s reigning mayor. The only time she didn’t feel that stress had been those blissful months spent in the arms of the resident bad boy. The same one who broke her heart beyond repair when he left without a word.

Life hasn’t come easy for Finn Thomas. He’s had to claw and fight for everything he’s ever had—and truth be told, it hasn’t been much. He spent the first eighteen years of his life living so far from the wrong side of the tracks, he couldn’t even see them through his trailer window. The only thing that ever came easy for him and made his sorry ass happy was the one girl he loved with all his heart. And the one thing he had no choice but to leave behind.

When an opportunity arises to return to his tiny, southern hometown and open the first bar in a formerly dry county, he jumps at the chance. That won’t win him points with the mayor, who’s hell bent on making Finn’s life a nightmare for sullying his namesake. Too bad for Mayor Haven, Finn’s got his sights set on more than just the town, and this time he won’t be scared off quite so easily.

Pre-Order Today!

iBooks exclusive preorder: https://apple.co/2EvS8TZ

If you preorder on iBooks, you will get a special edition with bonus content only available on iBooks.

Second-chance-charmer-customdesign-JayAheer2018--fullcover-complete.jpg


Meet Brighton:

Brighton Walsh spent nearly a decade as a professional photographer before deciding to take her storytelling in a different direction and reconnect with her first love: writing. When she’s not pounding away at the keyboard, she’s probably either reading or shopping—maybe even both at once. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and two children, and, yes, she considers forty degrees to be hoodie weather. Her home is the setting for frequent dance parties, Lego battles, and more laughter than she thought possible.

Connect with Brighton:

Website: http://www.brightonwalsh.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brightonwalshwrites
Twitter: https://twitter.com/writeasrain_
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/brightonwalsh/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2EDxUXV
Newsletter: http://www.brightonwalsh.com/subscribe/

 

Cover Reveal: The Hook-Up Experiment by Emma Hart

 

 

 

1.Hate-screw my high school nemesis.

2.Remember to hate him.

3.Prove my brother wrong.

It should be easy.

It isn’t.

 

As the owner of Pick-A-Dick, New Orleans’ premier hook-up website, my job is simple. Connect two people for a no-strings, no-expectations hook-up. The plus for my clients is that I’m the one who gets to sift through the dick pics—except this time, they’re required.

My problem? My brother, co-owner of Pick-A-Dick’s sister dating site, doesn’t believe it’s possible to hook up with someone three times and not fall in love.

I disagree. I know it’s possible.

And my disagreement is exactly how I end up reconnected with my high school nemesis, Elliott Sloane. The guy who asked me to junior prom and then stood me up. Who egged my car when I rejected him, and convinced my senior homecoming date to ghost me.

It should be easy to hate-screw him. If only he was still that person, instead of a hot-as-hell single dad, working as a builder to make ends’ meet, fighting for custody of his daughter.

Not to mention packing in the pants department…

 

Three hook-ups.

One outcome.

Right?

 

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

FIND OUT MORE: http://www.pick-a-dick-net

 

 

 

 

 

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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Cover Reveal: Push & Pull by Allie York

 

Title: Push & Pull ( The Broadway Series #5) 
Author: Allie York 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 

It’s been a rough two years for Meredith Wallace. Running away from a loving family to live across the country with her boyfriend was a bad idea. She went from bright and full of possibilities to beaten and broken. When her situation gets worse, Meredith knows it’s time to go home, even if her family never forgives her for the hurt she caused. 
Beck Layton is a horrible person. Everyone knows it, especially him. Every day is a challenge to forget the past, to dull the pain. After blacking out and waking up in a seedy hotel with women he doesn’t remember, Beck decides maybe his life isn’t worth it. Just before he makes his decision final, he finds someone who needs him. She needs saving but may end up rescuing him instead.


 
 
 

 

 
 
 
Allie is a mom, wife, and dog groomer by day. At night she is posted on her laptop writing contemporary romance. She has a soft spot for gooey romance, over-creamed coffee, and anything cute and furry.
 
 
 
 

 

 

 
 
 

 

Cover Reveal: Craft by Adriana Locke

 

 

Title: Craft

Series: The Gibson Boys #2

Author: Adriana Locke

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Kari March Designs

Release Date: March 7, 2018
Blurb
They’re not quite enemies. Not really friends.
More like frustrated balls of sexual tension and neither will give in.
               
Lance Gibson drives Mariah Malarkey absolutely
crazy. He uses her office like a phone booth, takes cupcakes from the corner of
her desk like she baked them just for him. She didn’t. Maybe she knew the
history teacher happened to love peanut butter icing, but that was purely a
coincidence. All sixteen times.
Mariah has a way of getting under Lance’s skin
too. She calls him out on his crap, spoils him even if inadvertently, and
seeing the librarian in skirts drives him wild. She won’t give in. It’s for the
best, really, considering there’s no way he could lie to a woman like that and
he’s not about to tell her the truth about himself. Not in a million years.
These two don’t hate each other. They don’t
really like each other. But for this to be a friends-to-lovers story, they have
to start somewhere, right?
Note: This can be read as a standalone novel.
Will be available in Kindle Unlimited.

 

 

 

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Author Bio
USA Today
Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of
slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other
authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides
in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount
of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her
outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her
pocket.
For sneak peeks, giveaways, and more, please
join Adriana’s Facebook Group, Books by Adriana Locke, or her Goodreads group,
All Locked Up.

 

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