Systematic Siege by N. Isabelle Blanco
Title: Systematic Siege
Series: Siege #1
Author: N. Isabelle Blanco
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: October 31, 2018
Blurb
Life separated us.
Destiny tied me to her.
Obsession drove me mad.
I knew they all hurt her. What I didn’t understand is
how deep . . .
Seven years ago, they ripped her from me—my father. The friends I made
at school. Jealousy drove all of those bastards into conspiring against us.
And they won.
I almost killed myself after losing her.
Now I live for only three things:
I will destroy everyone who hurt her.
I will find her.
I’ll become the biggest monster ever known to
accomplish those things.
I’m at the head of my father’s empire now. A corporate king. I’m ready
to finally put in place the plan I’ve been working on for years.
I’m ready to find my Lexi.
What I didn’t realize is that she had already found me.
Warning: this series is not for everyone. As the story progresses, dark themes are explored that might be a trigger for some. Please read at your own discretion. Definitely 18+.
N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the
Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I. Lynn, and many others. At the age of
three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she
began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an
extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every
aspect of her life.
That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything
else.
Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New
York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the
hopes of one day getting them under control.
Author Links
Tuning It Put by Riley Long
Title: Tuning It Out
Series: Young Spades #3
Author: Riley Long
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: October 31, 2018
Trick Thomas has it all: a great family, a tight-knit group of friends, and a promising future. Tired of the go-nowhere music scene in Boulder, Colorado, Trick and his up-and-coming indie rock band Young Spades are headed to California with dreams of making it big in L.A. and nothing is going to get in his way.
Noah Reed is inches from finishing graduate school, married to his high-school sweetheart, and gay. Even though they’ve both known for years, Noah’s wife Haley can’t let go of their marriage as she tries to protect her ailing father. Convinced that he will never be able to live the life he knows he wants, a chance encounter at an art gallery leaves him with no choice but to try.
Trick showed up at Noah’s house a few minutes after seven. He’d taken the world’s fastest shower, and had gone through at least fifteen shirts before he’d settled on the right one. He went with the light blue sweater his mom had gotten him a couple of years ago. It was snug, and looked great with tight black jeans.
He stood on the front porch and rubbed his palms on his hips. He was already nervous, had been for hours, but the nerves intensified with each passing minute. He wasn’t sure why he was so worried, exactly. He had totally been doing the hookup thing for years. He’d had a few brief relationships with guys, friends-with-benefits, that kind of thing. Somehow, this felt different.
No. He had to keep reminding himself, he was moving soon, and Noah would be staying put. He wasn’t going to get too caught up in this one.
It was at that moment that Trick realized he’d been standing on the stoop for an inappropriately long time without knocking. He raised his fist. Before he could make contact, Noah’s shape appeared through the decorative pane of glass in the door.
It swung open. Noah was smiling wide, showing off his straight, white teeth. He was wearing a tan, form-fitting thermal shirt that accentuated off his strong body, and his hair was damp.
“Sorry, just got out of the shower.”
He moved aside and Trick stepped into the house, trying like hell not to think of Noah in the shower.
Trick looked around as Noah shut the door behind them. The house was small, the living room barely big enough for the oversized, well-worn couch and battered coffee table. The dated kitchen was just off of the living room, and beyond that, a narrow hallway with several closed doors. One of those had to be the bedroom.
Focus. Trick couldn’t just obsess about sleeping with this guy. At least, not while they were on a date. The beginning of the date.
“I was going to cook, but my last session ran long. I hope takeout’s okay?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever’s fine. I’m easy.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Noah said, winking, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Trick exhaled with relief. His entire face was flooded with heat. He wasn’t sure why he was so self-conscious and shy around this one. Get a grip.
“With Colby around, my mom has it hard enough planning meals, so I’ve learned not to be picky.” Trick followed Noah into the kitchen. “You need a hand or anything?”
Noah looked up from his work plating big servings of pasta with tomato sauce. “No, I’m good. How old is Colby, anyway?”
“He’s eight.”
Noah added what seemed like a half a loaf of bread to each plate. “Wow. That’s a lot younger.”
“Thirteen years.”
“Must’ve been weird, being a teenager and suddenly having a baby brother around.”
Trick shrugged. “Guess so. Honestly, my parents let me move into the basement right before he was born, so it’s not like he was keeping me up at night or anything.”
“Nice. You want anything to drink?” Noah opened the fridge. “I’ve got water, lemonade, cheap beer.”
“Uh, lemonade, actually. Thanks.” No need to get drunk on a first date.
Noah poured two glasses, then handed one to Trick along with an overloaded plate. “Let’s eat in the living room. I don’t really have a ‘dining room’ exactly, so I just eat at that little table.”
Trick nodded and led the way.
“So that basement has been all yours for a long time, then.”
“I’m kind of a hermit, so I like it.”
“Well, you’re in a rock band. How much of a hermit can you be?”
Trick settled onto the couch, lowering his plate and glass to the table. “Indie rock.”
Noah gave him a look, dark eyebrows raised, head tilted to the side. Trick was momentarily distracted by Noah’s hair, which tumbled onto his forehead.
“There’s a difference.”
“Fair enough. The question stands.”
“I don’t know. It’s fun.” He took a bite of his pasta. The sauce was garlicky and sweet at the same time, and while it was delicious, he couldn’t help but wonder if garlic was the best choice for a date-night meal.
“That’s it, just because it’s fun? Then why move to L.A.? Why pursue stardom?”
Trick put his fork down. “I’m an artist. It’s who I am. I like to create. Part of creating things for me is sharing them with people. Music has gotten me through a lot of shit. If I can do that for someone else, y’know, it’s worth it.” He knew the answer wasn’t the standard one everyone handed out, but it was the truth.
Noah was quiet. Trick noticed his hands again, broad and strong, but tonight, they had a little tremble when Noah moved.
“What?”
“Nothing. That was just really honest.”
“You expected me to lie?”
“No, not at all. That’s not what I meant. I just figured you’d say something easy like, ‘money and fame.’ Not that you wanted to help people.”
Trick felt self conscious, and shifted in his seat. Unsure of what to do next, he shrugged, and scooped a forkful of noodles into his mouth.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things so serious.”
Trick shook his head. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, eyes on his plate, his mouth partially full. He swallowed and looked at Noah. “What about you? Working with kids with autism?”
“Same basic idea, really. I want to help kids who can’t always help themselves.”
“Cool.”
They both went back to their food, which was almost gone anyway. When they finished eating, Noah took the plates to the kitchen while Trick browsed through streaming services to find a movie. Noah returned with two small bowls.
“What’s that?”
“Ice cream. Hope vanilla’s okay.”
Trick grinned. “It’s a good starting point.”
It was Noah’s turn to blush a little, and he cleared his throat. “Any good movies?”
“Action okay?”
“Always.” Noah laughed.
Trick pressed play, and the movie began. Noah turned off the overhead light. Only the glow from the kitchen and TV remained. They watched and ate ice cream, but Trick wasn’t really paying attention. He was focused on Noah, throwing sideways glances at him as often as he could get away with it. He caught Noah doing the same.
Trick took one last bite and placed his bowl on the table, then turned to Noah, one leg tucked underneath himself. Hesitating, he studied Noah for a moment, waiting for a cue. Noah swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and broke their eye contact, looking at his ice cream. Trick took Noah’s dish from his hands and sat it next to his own, then shifted a little closer to the other man. Noah ran his hands along the tops of his thighs, then reached toward Trick. Once again, Trick caught sight of the tremor in Noah’s hands.
That was all the encouragement Trick needed. He moved forward, planting one foot on the ground between Noah’s, and kneeling on the couch with the other leg. Noah’s hand slid up Trick’s thigh and onto his ass. Trick leaned in and pressed his mouth to Noah’s, lips parted, hands on his face, pulling Noah close.
Noah tasted cool and sweet—the kiss was anything but. The scrape of Noah’s unshaven stubble on Trick’s face set a fire inside him, and he pressed forward. One of Noah’s hands clutched Trick’s ass, and the free one moved up to the waistband of Trick’s jeans fingers curling around the fabric, nails scratching Trick’s hip.
Trick’s cock strained against his jeans as they kissed, and when Noah’s hands loosened their grip, it was all Trick could do not to guide one of them to his groin. Almost as if Noah could read his mind, Noah’s hand rubbed over the erection as his deft fingers worked to free Trick.
Trick slid a hand up, into Noah’s hair, and tightened into a fist, tugging gently. Noah’s hands stilled, making Trick want to stop in protest, but he could wait a few more seconds. He released Noah’s mouth, and Noah gasped as Trick pulled his hair. It didn’t sound like a protest, and in any case, Trick wasn’t pulling hard enough to hurt, not really. He bent down and moved his lips and tongue from Noah’s earlobe to the soft spot under his jaw.
Noah gasped again, and he really didn’t sound like he minded, so Trick scraped his teeth along the skin there. A little cry escaped Noah.
“You okay?” Trick whispered against Noah’s damp jaw.
“God, never better.” Noah’s hands began working again, until Trick’s jeans were unfastened, and Noah was shoving the denim down Trick’s hips.
Trick pulled back slightly. “As much as I’d like to do this right here—”
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving.” Noah wrapped a hand around Trick’s erection and it was all Trick could do not to gasp in relief.
Trick laughed once. “I just don’t want to be naked in front of your door is all. Wouldn’t want to scandalize the neighbors if they peeked in.”
“Fuck ‘em.” Noah stroked his fist along Trick’s length.
“I’d rather fuck you.”
“If you insist.”
Trick took a step back and reluctantly pulled up his jeans. “Now, show me where the bedroom is.”
Riley Long is a wife and mother living a quiet life in Virginia, with her husband, son, and very silly Pit Bull puppy. She passes her evenings writing, reading, and watching bad television (or not so bad television). For fun, Riley participates in NaNoWriMo, GISH, and reads with her book club, the BAMFs. She likes things with silly acronyms. The craziest thing Riley has ever done involves lots of butter and a time lapsed video.
HOSTED BY:
Accidentally Yours by Ilsa Ames
Title: Accidentally Yours
Author: Ilsa Ames
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Coverlüv Cover Designs
Cover Design: Coverlüv Cover Designs
Release Date: November 5, 2018
Blurb
Possessive, dominant, undeniable.
She and I are strangers,
But there’s a billion-dollar inheritance at stake.
It’s simple: get fake-married, get the money.
But I don’t want her for a little while. I want her
for always.
It’s all supposed to
be pretend. Get fake married, have a kid, prove I can have a family, and I get
a billion-dollar inheritance from the father I always hated.
It’s all pretend,
until I say “I do”. And suddenly, I don’t want sweet, innocent, sassy little
June “just for now”. I want her forever.
We’re supposed to
play the part for the cameras and the lawyers. I’m not supposed to fall for
her. I’m not supposed to want her like this. I’m not supposed
to totally fucking lose myself in claiming her body, and possessing her, and
just wanting more of her.
We faked it at the
altar. But there’s no faking it in the bedroom. It’s all supposed to be
pretend. But once I get my hands on her, she’ll know I’m playing for keeps.
I’m her first. Oh,
and she’ll be my last. She’ll be my everything, forever, even if she doesn’t
know it yet.
This was all about
the money at first. Now, it’s all about her.
Accidentally
Yours is a full-length contemporary arranged-marriage romance. Hot, steamy, and
all the feels, with one extra-hot obsessed alpha hero. Safe, no cliffhanger,
and a guaranteed happy ever after!
Author Bio
Ilsa Ames
is two die-hard romance readers-turned-authors. Best friends, moms, secret (and
sometimes not so secret…) smut lovers, and crappy reality television
junkies.
Smokin' hot, dominant alphas, smart, sassy heroines, & contemporary romance stories to make you say "yes please!".
Smokin' hot, dominant alphas, smart, sassy heroines, & contemporary romance stories to make you say "yes please!".
We hope you
enjoy!
Author Links
Jackal’s Pride by Michelle Gross
Title: Jackal's Pride
Series: Seven Deadly Series: Book Two
Author: Michelle Gross
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: December 31, 2018
Despite a near catastrophe, there’s time for a fateful encounter.
Maureen Reaper, eldest daughter of the revered Grim Reaper, avoided an apocalyptic vortex which threatened humanity, but she still has time for bets. She can’t help it thanks to her curse—the sin of pride. Her latest one brings her face-to-face with an entity no one has seen or heard from for thousands of years.
Jackal, an entity created by the Devil himself, has never known the comprehension of emotions until the day a witch cursed him to feel for everything he has killed. Unable to bear the new burden of a heavy heart, he sleeps with no intention of ever waking until someone finds him.
There’s nothing beautiful in their meeting. Enemies by birth, only more so when Maureen straps a collar around his neck all for a bet. She awakens a beast whose every first—every new glare, new craving, and touch has landed upon her.
Then she learns that the one she sought out in a game controlled by pride could be the very one that helps turn the tide back in the Reapers’ favor.
But that’s the thing…
Pride is a bitch, and Maureen is her.
PAST
For me, I was nothing and then I was something.
What could I possibly mean by that phrase? I wasn’t born. I was formed by the darkest creature to walk three worlds. Once an angel, now he was far from it.
He created me and my brethren in seconds from the void. The first was Fear. This entity was a feeder on emotions—more like a terror than anything. The second was Harvest. He was true to his name—a player of faces and a creator of havoc, just like the one who fathered him.
We were alike in many ways. The Devil gave us pieces of who he was to create us. Fear fed on emotions and killed because it was what he was made to do. Harvest was a little different. He could appear to be anyone depending upon the circumstances. Not only that, he collected people, demons and things and made them different.
Then there was me.
Jackal. Shapeshifter. Plague dropper. Wherever I walked, I left behind the most destruction. My body was a channel of deadly diseases. Although, I couldn’t change into any human form, I could shift into any animal or demon. My touch brought upon the very demons the Underworld knew as shapeshifters. A single bite placed upon one demon many moons ago plagued him with my gene. The disease spread like wildfire just like any other damage I caused.
The three of us were feared throughout the Underworld for very different reasons, but those reasons were what the Devil wanted. He succeeded in us. At least, for a while.
My tale began where I thought it ended. Just like any other time I stepped into the human world that one was no different. I set out to create a monstrosity to place upon the humans—famine, disease, death. I was a conqueror from the Underworld. A deliverer of destruction who no one knew existed, but everyone had felt in one way or another.
The worst part was, I didn’t have to do anything. I just had to walk through a poor village and what I carried, stuck. The result was often instant. One person fell with a disease, and then another while I set back and watched, seemingly without an expression. This was all I knew. All I served and followed—everything I was made for.
There were no emotions for me. I didn’t feel anything although I saw and witnessed every emotion. The dreadful feelings were to be witnessed every time I watched humans.
Only I wasn’t invisible to that village. Someone that wasn’t a human at all had recognized my touch, its destruction since she had lived there. Those she had loved and cherished had been there with her. They had been human. The witch had gotten the sickness as well. She had been tiny and frail, but she was the last of her village to take my plague. She knew I watched and waited for days—I know that now because once every heartbeat in the village stopped but hers; she ventured outside of their tents and approached me. I was in a wolf form, and she leaned on my tail as she could barely walk. Her eyes were sunken in and blisters covered her flesh. My plague was mere minutes from taking her heartbeat as well and she used it to get to me.
“You must be the infamous Jackal.” She coughed several times, never bothering to cover her mouth. “Death bringer that the Devil has created. A mutiny, you are…” When I was unmoved by her words, she tilted her head at me. She saw something then, recognition dawned over her sunken features. “You don’t even know. Your eyes may let you see but you miss everything. You know nothing, nor do you feel it. Today that changes.”
I never moved from my spot. I never knew to be wary of what was to come. In my eyes, the witch was at death door and I stood by waiting for it to claim her.
“There are 137 people you have killed from this village. I went ahead and counted my own.” She swayed but righted herself as she rubbed the blood she coughed up over her chest. “That is 137 hearts. Your time of ignorance is gone, Jackal. If you shall kill, you shall feel it from now on. For every life you’ve stolen and every pain you’ve caused, you will know it—you will live it. I give to you a curse that may one day become a blessing. Live with 137 hearts, feel pain 137 times over, feel fear and regret and heartbreak for every one of my people.”
Just as the witch uttered those words, she slumped forward and landed on top of me. Her weight became the significant turning point she had burned into my soul. My wolf form slumped forward, and I whimpered as I scooted myself out from underneath her lifeless body.
Something raw, so untamed and intense, caused a fever deep in my lungs. I couldn’t breathe through it. It was unbearable. I was in pain—I knew what pain looked like. I saw the agony it brought to people, but it was never known to me before. Even with bleeding wounds, I felt nothing. And although there was nothing physically wrong with me, I could feel the agonizing fever crawling through me. Their pain. I could hear them. One hundred thirty-seven hearts beating furiously out of sync with each other. Blinding rage, sadness, agony, and death take over me.
For an entity who felt nothing, I suddenly felt everything, and it was too much. The overload shifted my form into a whimpering pup.
Make it stop.
I can’t handle this. To feel. I don’t want to. I’ve never wanted to. Never been curious.
But I did feel. One hundred thirty-seven fates flashed before my eyes. One by one their memories shifted through mine. I saw the moment they became sick, and witnessed their loved ones die. I heard and lived their final thoughts before their ragged breaths ceased. I felt their loss like it was mine. Then came the torment from the survivors. I experienced every agonizing plea and desperate thought before death stole each life. Over and over to the point where I couldn’t decipher between my thoughts and theirs, and then I remembered my emotions were a rarity at best before.
None of them were mine.
Their anger was directed at me because of what I did. Foreign emotions tormented me. I tried to walk away but stumbled. Beat down by nothing but feelings.
I didn’t know how to appease them or ease my newfound guilty conscience. I could only port back to the Underworld where I passed out. While I slept, I realized that emotions could no longer reach me, so I found a cave hidden far from roaming demons and put myself to sleep with no intention of waking.
For thousands of years I slept while the Underworld and the human world shifted and changed while I forever remained unaffected.
Until someone finally awakened me.
Michelle is from a small town in Eastern Kentucky where opossums try to blend in with the cats on the porch and bears are likely to chase your pets—this is very true, it happened with her sister’s dog. Despite the extra needed protection for your pets, she loves the mountains she calls home. She has a man and twin girls who are the light of her life and the reason she’s slightly crazy.
As a kid, she was that cousin, that friend, that sister and daughter, the talker who could spin a tale and make-believe into any little thing so it was no surprise when she found love in reading, and figured all these characters inside her head needed an outlet. They wanted to be heard, so she wrote.
The voices keep growing faster than she gets the time to write.
The stories are never going to end. That’s perfectly okay, though. We never want to stop an adventure.
She writes and loves many different genres so sign up to her mailing list to keep updated on her releases!
HOSTED BY:
Langgan:
Ulasan
(
Atom
)