Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Title: Sabato: The Cross (Ties of Steel, #4)
Author: M.J. Fields
Release Date: March 31, 2015
Blurbla fame.... Sabato Efisto is a cursed man. Born from sin, raised in revenge, he’s made a name for himself doling out pleasure and punishment in the lush Italian Riviera. io brucio.... When the sins of his father come to rest on his shoulders, Sabato trades his privileged—but dangerous—life as the son of a mafia kingpin for the untested—but willing—shores of New Jersey. Acquiring a sex club called Steelettos is only the first phase in his plan to seduce and tame his new American landscape. Phase two involves finding a woman who can meet his...very singular, and definitely less-than-legal needs. io conquisto.... Enter Melyssa Chance, a sassy southern law student who is as untested as they come. From the first glance, Melyssa knows that the sexy Italian is going to leave a mark on her reputation...and maybe a few other parts of her, while he’s at it. But what she doesn’t know is why she somehow caught his eye in return, what he really wants from her, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. che consumo…
May 27thI prowl around the club in Florence. I need a release. Something warm to tease, taunt, titillate, tame, and tear up. It is not only the lifestyle I portray, it is truly who I am. It has never been my MO to waste time chatting up some romance novel junkie, saying all the things I know she wants to hear to get laid. That is why I came here. It’s not one of my places. I won’t lose the respect of my girls, or my clients. Tonight, I seek strange. I’ve come to exactly the right kind of place. I know this because I planned it. I plan everything. I take in the leather clad wait staff with piercings and tattoos—some of whom are holding whips—this is a no-last-name kind of scene. All fetishes are welcome here. My eye catches on a tall redhead with a nose ring that’s chained to her nipple ring—totally exposed, for all to see. Make that welcome, wet, and waiting. Nothing good happens on today’s date. Hell, nothing good ever happens these days, aside from orgasms and creating desire. If not for causing the slow buildup to release, and the inevitable double-edged climax, I would feel nothing. But then, usually I like feeling nothing. For too many years, I felt too much. Rage, sadness, jealousy, obsession, more rage...it was fucking exhausting, caring that much. Nowadays, I am a shark, coldly calculating without allowing anything to touch me on a personal level. Ironically, this seems to make me irresistible to the opposite sex. It also makes me notice things that most people are too nervous, too excited, too full of desire, or scared to notice. In one corner of the club, there’s a man whose facial expression gives him away as a first-timer to the BDSM scene—eyebrows raised, wide shoulders cocked back defensively, and a scowl on his face that will likely keep any subs from approaching him. The way his eyes flit from side to side, it’s as if he’s trying to figure out how he got here, and what the hell is going on. I follow his gaze, more slowly and casually, expecting someone who works here to greet him, at least help the poor bastard feel welcome. But no one does. As a businessman, it bothers me. But as an anonymous club patron—which I am tonight, I remind myself—I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I saunter over to the bar, sit down, and order a drink. Manhattan, with rye whiskey—the only kind of Manhattan that counts. When my drink is in my hand, I turn and continue scouting the crowd for talent. The majority have not picked their poison yet, and the ones who have are clearly all about being dominated. It seems like the place is crawling with prey, but not so many hunters. Good, I like those odds. The ‘out of his scene’ guy comes up to the bar and sits right next to me. He orders a glass of wine, cheap wine. I almost snort into my drink. Rookie move. Feeling generous, I turn to him and offer my hand. “I’m Sabato, how are you?” Immediately, his shoulders go up. “Dude, I like pussy. Okay? I’m not sure what the fuck about me screams I’m willing to swing that way, but—” “It’s definitely the clothes.” “Excuse me?” His attitude is one I am not accustomed to. But then, after all, this is not one of my usual haunts. I decide to cut the guy a break, since he’s obviously clueless. “Look around the room.” I gesture vaguely with my drink. “Tell me, what do you see?” He shakes his head, looking confused. “Pussy.” He snorts, shooting me a glare. “And a bunch of guys who want to tag my ass.” My patience is very quickly running out. “And, what else?” He shakes his head again, more loosely this time. The wine must be getting to him already. What a light weight. “Honestly, man, I feel like any second, half of these guys are gonna bust out doing the fucking YMCA. I mean....” He gestures agitatedly around the room. “You got the cowboys, the cops, the gay bikers—fuck, we’re just missing the Indians in here.” I almost want to laugh, because he is right. “And if they see you checking them out, wearing...what you’re wearing...how do you think they will approach you?” He shrugs, looking offended again. I signal the bartender to bring him another wine, before he really gets his skirt in a twist. “What the hell is wrong with my clothes?” “Nothing,” I tell him. “If you’re going to a different kind of club.” I gesture to his shiny, black silk shirt. “I mean, you have your dancing shoes,” I can’t hold back a mocking smirk, “that match your cute little dancing shirt.” “Fuck you, dude.” His eyebrows push together, and he stares at me for a few seconds like he’s seriously thinking about kicking my ass. Then, slowly, he smiles. Shakes his head. Holds his hand out for me to shake. “Zandor Steel.” I take his hand and shake it. I like a man who doesn’t take himself too seriously. “So, what brings you here tonight, Zandor?” He shrugs. “Just thought I’d wander in. I’m not from around here, so....” My eyes widen in mock surprise. “Really?” “Fuck you twice,” he laughs. “Yeah, see,” I make a tsk-ing noise. “You can’t say that kind of thing in here, or one of these guys will take you up on it.” “Oh,” he nods. “Good point. I meant ‘Go fuck yourself, twice.” I find myself laughing, too, in spite of what day it is. It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how refreshing it is to have people tell you to fuck off to your face. Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, I take out my phone and send a quick, subtle text to have this Zandor Steel looked into. When I look up, I see him staring at me, appraising me with a certain shark-like look to him. My shoulders straighten. I shouldn’t have let my guard down so easily. “I don’t know if I should be taking your advice, bro,” he says. “Doesn’t look like you’re any closer to slaying poon tonight than I am.” I like the ease of this conversation, but I don’t like the innuendo. I nod to a petite platinum blonde woman who sits across the room, waiting for notice. In a blink, she is at my side. I nod toward the floor, and she drops to her knees in front of me, ready to service my every wish—in the middle of the club—if I ask. “Well, fuck,” Zandor says, eyes wide. “My bad. You want to be my Yoda man, I will be your Padawan. Gladly. Just show me how to use the Force like that.” I have no idea what he’s talking about, but he looks like he expects me to. I shrug. Shake my head. The look on his face is incredulous. “Star Wars?” “Let me guess,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “It’s an American thing.” “Actually, it’s kind of the most epic movie series of all...you know what, nevermind.” He nods “Carry on, oh wise one.” I gesture down to the petite blonde. “What is your flavor?” “My thing is pussy,” he repeats, like that is helpful. “Warm, willing pussy, in all varieties.” I sigh with impatience. “No, Zandor. You’re in a bondage club. I mean, what is your scene? What fetish are you into? Are you a top, a bottom, a group player? Dominance is not for everyone, no matter how....” I gesture vaguely at his physique. “Physically suited for it they may appear to be. Perhaps you yearn to submit. If that is the case, I can recommend some very talented dommes in the area.” Zandor Steel looks at me like I am deranged in some way—even though he is the one with the porn star name, who is wearing a ‘fuck me, daddy’ shirt. “Bro, I just like to fuck and not have the bitch so enchanted or fucking needy that she pulls out the old sexual harassment card, trying to teach me some fucking lesson. I’m not into really fucked up. I’ll spank an ass and play with some toys.”” “So, no blood play? Animal transformation? Figging?” “Fuck no.” He looks vaguely nauseated at the thought—even though, I would bet good money he doesn’t know what any of those things mean. “That’s sick.” “It’s not about mental health or sickness,” I tell him, more patiently than I should. “It’s about control. Losing it, and feeling free. Or maybe taking it, for the first time in your life. Every day, in all aspects of our lives, control is what we seek. Yet most people have no idea how to control themselves, and they don’t try. They are slaves to their urges, instead of the other way around.” A feeling prods me then, something similar to guilt. What right do I have to be preaching to this stranger about self-control? After all, what am I doing here tonight? But Zandor seems to consider—genuinely consider—what I’ve told him. “Not sure if you’re being a dick, or sincere, but as I said before.” He points to the blonde at my feet, who is still silently, patiently waiting. “I want something simple. Meat and potatoes. I want ass that goes away satisfied when I’m done and doesn’t sit outside my door banging on it, begging for cock.” I can’t help but laugh at the visual image he’s created. “Begging is also a very big part of this scene, my friend. I wonder if you wouldn’t be more comfortable at a nice trucker bar. I hear there is one down by the gas station, near the freeway.” “Don’t tempt me,” he says, rolling his eyes. “At least there, no one would have a chance at knowing who I was. Ever since my family came into some money, that shit has seriously fucked up my game. There’s no such thing as ‘anonymous’ or ‘no strings attached’ anymore. Now, they’re telling me I need to ‘lay low?’ That ain’t gonna happen. So, like I said, teach away.” I’m intrigued by his story, and want to know more. New money is like blood in the water for a shark like me. But I’m also starting to like this guy, in spite of myself. So I indulge him, for the moment, and play mentor. “You have to keep feelings out of it,” I look down at the blonde, finally giving her the attention she craves. She is a textbook sub, willing to wait as long as it takes—because waiting for approval only makes her wetter. I point her to Zandor, and she crawls over, instantly transferring her attention—and adoration—on him. “The only thing you ask of her is obedience, until the game is done. Sexual obedience. Release must be earned, and given like a gift. It cannot be taken.” Zandor slowly smiles, staring at the blonde’s tits. “I definitely like control.” I nod to the redhead with the nose-to-nipple piercings, and she walks over to stand before me. “Is Cindy to your liking, Sir?” “She’s hot,” Zandor says. “So, yeah. I’d like to show her a good time.” “No,” I correct him. “You want to take pleasure from her. In return, if she does exactly as you instruct, she will be rewarded.” I look down at the girl. “Present yourself.” She does as I say, without question. Whether they know my name or not at this place, it doesn’t matter. They obviously know enough to tell a Dom when they see one. Leaning back on her heels, Cindy widens her legs slightly, clasping her hands behind her back. The position causes her breasts to jut out, pressing her nipples out against the sheer fabric of her costume. “You see how she is dressed?” I ask Zandor. “She is wearing lace, not leather. She will be a good partner for your first time. But make sure you agree to the rules, between the two of you, before anything happens. Her presentation shows her desires. She wants to be treated like a lady, but she needs for you to be in control. Like you, she is not so very experienced.” “What?” Zandor looks at me skeptically. “What do you mean? How can you possibly know that?” I gesture for the blonde to leave us. “Go over there and wait for your master to claim you, Cindy.” Immediately, she goes back to where she was sitting before, across the room. “Everything is in the rules,” I tell him. “It’s part of the world we live in, part of the scene. That is the kind of woman who wants a stranger to spank her and fuck her, but still wants the illusion of romance. She needs someone who wants to dominate her full time, and take care of her. If she asked for my opinion, I would have told her to go somewhere else. This is a place for temporary engagements. Whereas this one,” I point to the redhead, who is smiling at me with open invitation. “Is a submissive of opportunity. She wants to lose control, for an hour...a weekend. But she is experienced enough to be comfortable in the scene, which tells me that she will be looking for something...special. A singular experience she can tuck away and revisit later, in her private moments.” My eyes burn into hers, and my explanation takes a turn into something else. Something meant only for her and I. “She is looking for an eye-opening, stinging slap that will drive her over the edge at exactly the right moment. She wants a man who will fuck her, mind and body, like pleasure is her only purpose in the world. And when she’s screaming and begging for release, I will pull it out of her reach, at the last possible second. Because, more than anything, she wants the exhilarating feeling of being wildly...totally...helplessly...out of control.” By the time I am finished with my description, the redhead is almost panting with desire. I have no doubt that underneath her leather harness, she is dripping with need, ready and waiting for my cock to penetrate her. For my body to conquer hers, completely. I glance over my shoulder, toward the entrance to the private lounge area. I raise an eyebrow. She nods, eagerly. I turn toward him with a start. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “So...can I go fuck Cindy now?” I nod, because I am done mentoring for the evening. I have my target now, and nothing else matters but the slow burn, the build, and the eventual quench. “Of course. Just remember that control is a responsibility, not a right. It can be taken away, just as easily as it is given.” “Understood.” Satisfied that I have done my part for my fellow man, I turn my attention back to the redhead. “Go to the cross and wait for me.” I get up and slowly remove my jacket, folding it neatly over one arm. “It was nice meeting you, Zandor Steel.” With a nod, I leave him to his fun. I circle the bar and go into one of the side rooms, where a Saint Andrew’s cross waits in the center of a dimly lit room. The redhead is there, on her knees, already assuming ‘the Position.’ “Get undressed.” I close the door behind me—but not all the way, in case there are any voyeurs who would like to peek in—and hang up my jacket. By the time I turn around, the redhead has taken off her scant leather thong, and is kneeling naked in front of the cross. She is shaved bare, of course, and I can see for myself what my words have done to her. She is glistening already, and I have yet to touch her. Behind me, I can hear whispers, and I don’t have to turn to know a small crowd of watchers has gathered outside. It’s not unusual for me, because they know who I am, I have a reputation, one I am proud of. Her chest is heaving, her nipples are hard and she waits in her pool of desire. I unbutton the cuffs on my shirt as I look to my left and see Zandor, my new prodigy talking entirely too much to the girl wearing lace. I want to correct him but now is not the time. Now is show time, now is the time for me to release the anger of the date, to bring down sheets of glass and chaos on the lucky woman in front of me.
Title: Eroe: St. Andrews: A Sabato Origin Story (Ties of Steel Book 3)
Author: M.J. Fields
Release Date: March 15, 2015
BlurbSabato Efisto was born from an unholy union, the bastard son of a martyred saint and the Devil. At least, that's what he's believed, for most of his life. His father is an Italian crime lord, a man so dangerous that Sabato's mother died trying to get away from him. For that tragedy, which happened on his seventh birthday, Sabato blames himself. Every year, he practices the ritual of self-punishment, flirting with death the way most boys his age flirt with girls. Until ten years later, when he meets a sweet girl named Luciana, at St. Andrews of the Holy Cross. For the first time in his life, Sabato doesn't want to end it. The darkness in his soul is replaced by hope. But, as the priests will tell you, the sins of the father are not easily escaped. And those who are born into darkness must carry that cross forever....
Purchase Eroe today for only 99¢!
Ties of Steel Series Order
Abe: Four In Hand (Ties of Steel, #1)
Dominic: The Prince (Ties of Steel, #2)
About the AuthorMJ Fields love of writing was in full swing by age eight. Together with her cousins, she wrote a newsletter for family members. The newsletter was put back into 'publication' in September of 2001 for the entertainment of her cousin on a Navy aircraft carrier in the gulf, (Her cousin is a female Navy officer and helicopter pilot). She self-published her first New Adult romance in January 18, 2013. Today, she has completed four self-published series, The Love series, The Wrapped series, The Burning Souls series, and The Men of Steel series. Ties of Steel, (the first series spun off of some the Men of Steel series) book 1 ABE and Book 2 Dominic are now available. The Norfolk series, has two titles available now, Irons 1 and Irons 2. MJ is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling author. She lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she would have it no other way.
******This book is intended for mature audiences, over 18 years of age This book is a sequel, Book 2 in the Chianti Kisses series. Everybody expects something of Dom, they have his entire life. His family expects HIM to lead, provide, and support them. His company and employees expect him to keep their business successful, intact. His wife, V, expects him to be the beST man he can be. And then there are the expectations of his father and his "associates." Dom's father, although long past, had left unfulfilled expectations of his own. Everything he built, bled for, killed for... died for, was left in Dom's hands. Dom tried to change things, set things straight, atone for the sins of his father and father-in-law. But, it hasn't been easy. Many others benefitted from his business dealings, and aren't willing to loose them so easily. Emilio Rizzo has vowed to keep things the way they were. He's waged a war to take full control from Dom, with no concern for the toll it will take on everyone involved. Innocents will be harmed, lives will will be taken, and hard-earned progress will be lost unless Dom steps in and fights the way he was born to. Someone will be disappointed. Will it be his family, his employees, his father, or his beloved V, when he becomes... BOSS. If you'd like to purchase Boss, feel free to grab your copy here:Amazon US
LEARN MORE ABOUT TARATara is a thirty something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing.
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Curveball Series #2
by Teresa Michaels
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Breanne Sullivan never expected to find love again. Allowing herself to move on wasn’t easy, and now it may be too late. Determined to give herself a second chance, she will go to any lengths to prove her love to Drew. If only she could find him. Desperate to numb his heartache in the wake of Breanne’s rejection, with something other than women and booze, Drew Scott packs his bags for the West Coast. Distance and a fresh start are just what he needs to heal the wounds caused by the only woman to ever captivate his heart. But when the past and present collide in an unexpected way, Breanne and Drew quickly learn that things aren’t always what they seem. Caught between solving the mysteries that haunt them and getting the happily ever after they deserve, the two once again find themselves at the center of a deadly conspiracy that could destroy them both. Answers come at a dangerous price. Sacrifices must be made in order to protect the ones they love. Can Breanne prove her love to Drew before its too late? Or will opposing forces interfere and destroy any chance of them having a future together?
Meet the Author
Teresa Michaels lives in the New England area with her husband and children. Curveball is her debut novel.
Monday, March 30, 2015
Title: The Promises We Keep (Made For Love, #1)
Author: R.C. Martin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 14, 2015
The promises you keep reveal who you are and define who you want to be...With senior year of college just a breath away, Beckham and Grayson, brothers by fate, battle against their fears and surrender to their hearts' bidding—consequences be damned; while Addison and Avery, sisters by blood, learn that in romance, all you need is love—except for when life is way more complicated than that. Written in each of their perspectives, The Promises We Keep tells the story of a couple joined together and another split apart. As they make plans in preparation for life after college in the “real world,” they are each challenged with the reality that love can conquer all; but only if they choose to let it, which is never as easy as it sounds.
ExcerptGrayson She slays me. When she opens the door, the effect she has on me is comparable to being sacked on the football field—no joke. Every time I see her, whether the time lapse is a day, a week, or five minutes, it’s the same. She’s just so freaking beautiful. She’s identical to my best friend’s girl. They’ve got some crazy attractive combination of ethnicities happening, making them both unique and worthy of a double take. I think their dad is a mix between African American and some sort of French Canadian background, while their mom is of Pacific Islander decent. Avery always says that their mother is to thank for her long black hair. I do her one better and thank God for their mother, their grandmother and their grandfather, too. For a while, I couldn’t tell the difference between Avery and Addison. I’d always found them attractive, but because I couldn’t tell them apart, I never thought to pursue anything, from fear that I’d end up hitting on Beck’s girl. Then I got to know them—and while they are a lot alike, they are also incredibly different. Not that my ability to tell them apart mattered at that point. By the time I realized that I liked her as more than a friend, it was quite clear that she deserves far better than the likes of me... But that doesn’t mean that I can’t look. She’s more than a foot shorter than me; and even though I know she’s got her own little bit of strength, evident in her toned muscles gained from years of running and carrying that cello of hers, she’s so petite and delicate. Sometimes I wonder how her personality fits inside of her small frame. She’s incredibly talented, with a focus and determination that seems to be a reflection of my own. She can also be really shy, which I find to be just downright adorable. Then she’ll get really passionate about something and you can’t shut her up. But she’s always kind and genuine.
When she looks up at me with those big brown eyes, like she is now, and smiles at me with her full heart-shaped lips, she owns me. She doesn’t know it—but she does. What I want to do is scoop her up into my arms and tell her how pretty I think she is, only I won’t. Instead I simple say, “Good Morning.”
About The Author
R.C. Martin is a born and bred Coloradan. While she now resides in Virginia, her home will always be in the land of the Rocky Mountains, where she’s left a piece of her heart and where her characters come to life. As a woman in love with love and filled with compassion for young women on a journey to find themselves in today’s society, she aspires to inspire her readers to do more than settle. She hopes that her writing will remind, or perhaps teach women that they are valuable and worthy of the best kind of love—the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves them breathless.
Claddagh & Chaos
Shamrocks & Secrets Series #2
by Cayce Poponea
Publication Date: April 11, 2015
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
SynopsisShamrocks left us with Patrick posing an intriguing question. What exactly happened during those twenty five years? We know that they got their happily ever after, but how did Patrick and Christi get there? Could love have a shelf life?
Meet the AuthorCayce Poponea currently resides in Southern Georgia, with her three dogs and wonderful husband. A true romantic at heart, she writes the type of fiction that she loves to read. When she isn't setting behind her computer screen, creating yet another heart stopping, page turning novel. You can find her enjoying down time with her family.
Between Dreams by Cynthia Austin The Pendant Series #1 Publication Date: April 28, 2015 Genres: Fiction, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult
Synopsis:Sidney Sinclair was living the dream of any eighteen year-old girl... A handsome rock star boyfriend, a closet full of designer clothes, a limousine service at her beck and call, and a mansion in the hills of Los Angeles. Even will all of that glamour and excitement at her fingertips, she still feels as if she's been missing something in her life so she decides to leave. While trying her best to put her dysfunctional romantic relationship aside and tend to her beloved Granny, Sidney unexpectedly stumbles upon an intriguing emerald pendant boxed away in her grandmother's closet. Soon she learns it once belonged to her long-lost mother who committed suicide when she was just a baby. Suddenly feeling emotionally connected to the woman who had birthed her, Sidney begins to wear the necklace. This sends her on a whirlwind journey that alternates between fantasy and reality... Almost immediately, she starts having dreams linked to the mysterious pendant. As danger begins to seep into her life, Sidney refuses to remove the necklace and instead documents each dream to help her further understand them. However, she soon begins to wonder if they are dreams meant to bond her to a mother who she never knew? Or a subconscious warning that threatens her very life?
About Cynthia Austin
Cynthia Austin lives in Northern California with her husband, two boys, and Olde English Bulldogge named Count Dogula. They love all things horror, gothic, and Victorian which prompts her friends to dub them as “The Adams Family.”
She is an avid reader who may be slightly obsessed with music. She hears music in a way that she believes the artist intended it to be heard: visually, with a storyline that follows. Listening to the songs by her favorite artists, she was inspired to write her first series titled “The Pendant.”
Cynthia has been published twice in The Writer’s Monthly Magazine as well as the online news site, Yahoo! Voices. She currently attends Diablo Valley College, in Pleasant Hill, California, where she is working to achieve her degree in English.
Protecting Shaylee by Elle Christensen Fae Guard #1 Publication Date: April 24, 2015 Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance
SHAYLEE As a child, I believed in the fairytales my father told me. Until he was gone and with him, that belief. As a girl, I believed in the friendship and protection of Aden. He made me begin to believe again. As a woman, I believed in the possibility of love and passion between myself and Aden. Until he was gone and with him, my belief in magic and happy endings. ADEN When she was a child, I was tasked with her protection. As a girl, I became her friend. As a woman, I could no longer see the child I knew and was forced to fight a growing attraction. Unable to lie and unable to tell the truth, I left. Now I’ve returned to give the knowledge I couldn’t before, that she is half Fae. The darkness is stalking her and I am desperate to teach her what she needs to know to protect herself. And determined to make her mine.