Blood Drenched Conquest by N. Isabelle Blanco

Blood Drenched Conquest

Series: Ryze #3

by: N. Isabelle Blanco

Genre: Paranormal Romance/Erotica
Cover Design: Booming Covers

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Blurb

Soleria

When a human male breaks your heart, it can feel like your life is ending.

When an immortal god does it . . . well, I learned the hard way that can lead to actual death.

The last few years I’ve been isolated except for my two best friends Ismini and Evesse.

Until they both went missing.

Until I started searching for them and connected with the last thing I expected.

A pair of white eyes.

He ruined me. All because I was stupid enough to give in.

Too weak to fight him.

His scent.

His taste.

Everything about that god possessed me. I knew he’d be the end of me. I knew it.

I couldn’t stay away regardless . . .

And he drove me to suicide.

Now I’m back.

I’m different.

A monster I cannot recognize.

A monster thirsting for blood . . .

Ianthen

The end of the last war is a day I’ll never forget.

How could I? It’s the day my best friend prophesied I would one day die.

I, the primal God of the Hunt, the first of his kind, dead. Gone.

All because of a female.

I lived nearly fourteen millenia waiting.

No, running.

Until she barreled into my dream and turned everything upside down.

I ran again.

I hurt her.

I tore out the very heart I would die for.

Because of my actions, I had to watch her die.

Now she’s back.

She’s more different than any of us could have ever predicted.

Lost to the obsession for Conquest that has awakened in her veins.

A female I’m determined to save before death finishes consuming me.

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Author Bio

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.

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Specter by Lacey Dailey **Blogger promo**

Title: Specter
Series: Circuit #1

by: Lacey Dailey

Genre: New Adult Romance
Cover Design: T.L. Shimmons

Release Date: October 3, 2018

Blurb

Two years ago, I joined an organization that was so top secret not even the FBI could locate us.

As a hacker, I teetered on the edge of right and wrong every single day, breaking the law to make the world around me a better place.

I knew how dangerous my work at Circuit was. I knew I could get caught one day and wind up behind bars for the rest of my life.

I didn’t care.

And then the packages started to show up on my doorstep. One after another. Never the same gift twice. Never the same day.

I warned my team, tried to get them to prepare for a takedown. They didn't seem as concerned as I was to learn my identity as Specter had been compromised.

I prepared for everything. 

And then Sage Maddison appeared with one of the packages, snow-white hair and eyes filled with fear.

I was not prepared for her.

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99c pre-order only price!

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Author Bio

The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book. She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning. When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can find her in the dance studio embowering young dancers and giving out tons of stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza.

When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather.

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BOSS by Quinn **RELEASE BLITZ PROMO**

Boss

by Quinn

Genre: Erotic Romance/Romantic Comedy

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Blurb

The BOSS duology contains the first two books in the Run the World Series, and a bonus novella (for a limited time) 

Like a F*cking Boss

-TALIA NEWMAN-

He’s the boss. I'm the booty call…

I gave my last relationship everything I had and got shafted in return. Now I'm all about proving I have what it takes to work amongst talented designers and architects of ARC Industries, and building a better future for myself.

Then my new boss arrives, and I just know trouble will follow.

How will I prove I'm more than a smart mouth and sexy curves when I'm distracted by daydreams of the company's sexy CEO, Theo Solomon?

To make matters worse, my daydreams turn into reality, and I become Theo's booty call.

Due to my past, I'm hesitant to accept that I want more than secret rendezvous. But is Theo worth the risk? 

Like a F*cking Lady

-THEO SOLOMON-

Talia Newman is a goddess who has curves any man would go crazy for. She's sassy, sexy and smart. She's also a pain my ass...

I want her to warm my bed and share my life forever—but the minx is too stubborn to bend to my will.

When my past comes back to haunt me, my integrity and our relationship are sorely tested. For once in my life, I fear that I may lose the most important thing to me.

I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine and punish those who threaten it…

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Excerpt

From Book 1: Like a F*cking Boss

*For readers 18+ due to Mature content*

The universe has colluded to get me angry and possibly fired today. Not only am I late returning from lunch, there’s taco sauce on my new, still-has-the-tag-on skirt. And like a sour cherry on top, as I try to rush back to the office in my too-tight skirt, a car nearly runs me down, screeching to a stop inches away from my legs. I slam a palm on the hood and scream profanities at the careless driver hiding behind the heavily-tinted windows. And because I’m having such a wonderful moment, I flip him the bird before stepping onto the sidewalk and racing back into my office building.

People who don’t seem to be in any rush line the elevator banks. To make matters worse, I have to fight my way inside one of them since one car is out of order.

Huffing and puffing and sweaty as hell, I finally sneak into the conference room stuffed with every single ARC employee. I slide next to Bryde. Her eyes widen and she mouths, “What the hell happened?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. Some fucker almost ran me over, and look what happened to my skirt! Oh, great.” I groan. “Now it looks like a Rorschach test.” I point at the spot on my lap. After a quick lick on my thumb, I rub at the stain. Absently, I continue yapping, “Did the boss man show up yet? Is he bald, fat and ugly like we thought?”

It takes a few synapses firing in my brain for me to realize the entire room has gone silent, and is slowly filling with a combination of murmurs, throat-clearings, and snickers. I let go of the bright fabric and glance around. Bet your ass all eyes are on me, including the unimpressed gaze of one hot-as-hell man in an impeccable navy blue suit that shouts ‘I own this shit.’ The intensity in those eyes causes me to step back, hitting the floor-to-ceiling glass wall behind me.

For once in my adult life, I am speechless. Theodore Solomon, although bald, is neither fat nor ugly. He’s a piece of six-foot-five goodness that I’m willing to climb any damn time. For a minute or so, he holds my gaze. I keep my back flat against the wall, which effectively pushes out my tatas. Any warm-blooded man would be mesmerized by my tits, but not this one. His jaw tenses, and I swear he’s about to ask me to walk to the front of the room, pull my skirt up, and spank me in front of the entire staff. If I’m being honest, I wouldn’t object. The thought wets the tiny piece of fabric covering my pussy. Then he pulls his gaze away from me and continues to address the room.

I relax, sagging against the wall, and look sideways at Bryde, who appears even more scared than me, and then across the large table to Lyra, who looks like she’s about to lose her shit. Mr. Theodore Solomon talks about what his restructuring plans mean for all of us, but he doesn’t mention cutting jobs. We’re safe, for now. Well, not me. I’m pretty sure I’ll get a pink slip before this day ends. I better figure out how to get the stain out of my skirt so I can wear it for job interviews before I can get a refund.

As mesmerizing as Mr. Solomon’s subtly-accented voice is, I couldn’t concentrate any longer. I calculate the amount left in my depleting savings account and how I can make it last until I land another temp position. I highly doubt Lyra will give me a glowing reference, but Ingrid might. I’m in deep shit. It wasn’t easy finding this job. If push comes to shove, the taco place is hiring. My stomach gurgles at the thought of getting paid in tacos and wearing that god-awful forest green apron their underpaid staff wears. Oh God, they all wear hairnets! I absently fiddle with my dark brown curls while I swallow this information.

A nudge to my ribs brings my attention back to the room. Bryde subtly nods her chin and pushes me toward the door. I guess the meeting is over. I’ll have to text her later for any important info I’ve missed—not that it’s going to matter after I get my ass booted out of here. My aforementioned ass is almost out the door when someone calls my name. Bryde and I turn and see Lyra’s devilish smirk.

“Mr. Solomon would like a word with you,” Lyra says. Her pointy chin lifts. Smug bitch.

My eyes widening, I send an SOS signal to Bryde, even though I know she can’t do a thing. “Pray for me,” I ask her as I pivot back and stop at the end of the conference table. Luckily, Lyra isn’t the only one who stays behind. Mr. Yum and Ingrid talk amicably with the dapper CEO. There’s a weird pinch in my belly as I watch Ingrid touch Mr. Solomon’s upper arm, and I recall our earlier conversation about Teddy. Her hand stays on his biceps, and she leans in and whispers something in his ear. His impressive broad shoulders relax, and one corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile, a secret smile only meant for Ingrid. Yeah, if they’re not banging yet, they will be soon. The pinch intensifies in my gut.

Henrik extends his hand to Mr. Solomon. “Anything else you need, just ask.”

“Have the blueprints ready for the new shopping centre. I intend to check in with each designer and architect before the week ends,” Mr. Solomon tells him, and the men shake hands. He reaches for Ingrid, placing a large hand on her tiny waist, and quickly kisses her cheek. “See you in a bit.”

“Be nice.” She pats his shoulder, and then smiles over at me. Henrik and Ingrid walk past me, and she touches my arm. I don’t care for it. It’s meant to soothe me because she knows I’m getting fired. “Good luck, Talia,” Ingrid mumbles.

I am so fucked.

I nod and glance down on my pretty shoes. Hell, there’s taco sauce on them too.

“You may leave now too, Lyra.” Mr. Solomon’s booming voice takes my attention away from my shoes and I stare at Lyra. She pops her mouth open to protest, but she shuts it just as quickly, but the smirk returns on her sour face. “Have all current bids and proposals at my desk before the day’s done.”

“Yes, Theo.” Head held high, she click-clacks her way out of the conference room.

Struggling not to fiddle with my skirt or my hair, I wait for the shitstorm that's about to rain down on me. While I think of reasons why I shouldn’t be fired, my heart is jack-hammering in my chest, and I’m starting to sweat. Not a pretty sight.

Mr. Solomon closes the door behind Lyra, then takes a seat at the head of the Philippe Starck rectangular table. The chair groans underneath his weight, and its wide back barely matches the broadness of his shoulders. With one hand, he unbuttons his suit jacket, and the panels slide back, exposing a crisp white shirt and a plain, dark blue, skinny tie. His impeccable manner, the way he carries himself—relaxed, yet powerful and authoritative—and the fact that he’s wearing what could be a real diamond tiepin should impress me, but something else, something totally unexpected catches my attention.

Underneath his sleek navy trousers is one hell of an impressive boner.

What’s more shocking though is he doesn’t seem to be hiding it. Mr. Solomon is proud of not-so-little Solomon straining at his zipper. I catch a moan between my teeth, and tamp down any notion that his hard-on is meant for me. After all, he and Ingrid were all over each other just moments ago.

“Sit.” Even though his voice is low, barely audible, it has a commanding tone that’s hard to ignore.

On your lap? I want to ask, but I shake my head instead. “I’d rather stand.” If he’s going to fire me, I’d prefer staying on my feet, with hopes of escaping quickly after he’s done with whatever he wants to say.

I hold my chin high, defiant, proud, and our gazes lock once more. There’s a twitch in his jaw, and somehow, seeing it calms my nerves. Maybe he’s as uncomfortable as I am.

“I don’t tolerate tardiness, Miss—”

“Talia. Talia Newman,” I supply.

“Well, Miss Talia Newman, I’m a busy man, and I still manage to make it to all my meetings on time.” He crosses an ankle over a thick thigh and my eyes are drawn back to the bugle in his crotch.

I clear my throat, and look up. “I didn’t mean to be late. I had an incident at the tac—at lunch and well, this—” I wave my hand at the dildo-shaped taco stain. “And some guy tried to run me over.”

“He didn’t try to run you over. You were jay-walking.”

What the friggin’ hell? “How did you—” My hands fly to my hips, but I check my attitude and drop them down again.

Theodore Solomon glances at the windows over his shoulder. “I saw the whole thing.”

“You could see me from all the way up here?” It’s possible. We’re only twenty floors up. Plus, it’s not hard to spot my fuchsia skirt from afar. People on Mars could see it.

He returns his gaze to me and rubs his angular jaw. “I see all.”

Whatever the fuck that means. I roll my shoulders back, trying to shake off the effect of his stare. He looks like he could swallow me whole. His tongue, darting out between his lips, catches my attention. That simple action’s effect on me is instantaneous. I might as well take off my panties as they’ve become soaked and uncomfortable. His words take on a whole different meaning. Can he see me tremble under his gaze? Can he see me squirm? Can he see my heart beating hard enough to rip through my ribcage?

I swallow to push down the lump in my throat and find my voice again. “Is there anything else, Mr. Solomon?” A lap dance? Some head? I mentally roll my eyes at myself. He’s with Ingrid. Daddy issues or not, they make a better couple than he and I ever would.

“That’s all, Miss Newman. And call me Theo. If you'd been on time, you would know I prefer an informal greeting.” We stare each other down until I falter under the heat of his fiery gaze. Powerful. I can’t help but be drawn to it. Then my eyes drop to his hand, which blatantly adjusts his erection. Fuck..me. Turning away, I quietly release a ragged breath, and show him my second-best assets before walking toward the door.

I add an extra sway to my hips. He may be unavailable, but my second name is Flirt, and I’m not always afforded a chance to do this to a hunky boss. Our last CEO was sweet but he resembled a crypt-keeper. Theo will have to get used to me ogling him every now and then. The chair creaks behind me, and in no time at all, he’s standing beside me, his large hand on the door’s handle, on top of mine. This close, I see the gold flecks in his light brown eyes and get a whiff of the mint on his breath. This close, the warmth of his body sharpens his irresistible manly scent.

Author Bio

Quinn is a writer of romance bestsellers, according to her parents. However, they’ve never read her dirty books. Her stories are full of humor, sass, drama or angst. But guaranteed, they are filled with steamy scenes with hot Alpha heroes.

She has a healthy obsession with reading and writing romance, and an unhealthy addiction to red wine, bourbon, and dark chocolate with sea salt. She doesn't people until after coffee. When Quinn is not scribbling Erotic Romances, she loves to curl up with her puppy and watch foreign films. 

Quinn lives in a house that never stays clean, no matter how much she wishes it would. She also writes sweet, contemporary romance, romantic comedy, and chick lit under a different pen name.

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WICKED REVENGE by Zoey Derrick **Blog Tour**

Wicked Revenge

by Zoey Derrick

Genre: MC Romance

OUT NOW

He was my protector when the world failed me. He hid me away to keep me safe. Protected me from those who would destroy me after they destroyed my family. He wasn’t innocent, he was going to be the president of the Wicked Angels MC. I knew he had secrets, we all do. But then, he was gone. And I was alone.

Six years after his death, I see the world with new eyes, but those eyes still want revenge on those who took my safe haven, my family, away from me.

I find myself with two choices. Let it go and move on, or what I'm going to do - get revenge.

Knowing what I have to do, what I need to do, Logan ‘Loki’ Williams stands in my way, loyal to the man who protected me all my life.

I have loved him since I was three. He was my brother’s best friend.

But right now, he isn’t my priority. I’m so close to getting my revenge. He may figure out my secrets, but I can’t escape him. I won’t give up my plans for him. No matter how much he worships my body and calls to my heart. I will get my wicked revenge. Even if it kills me.

“Get on,” he says over the engine.

I shake my head.

“Get the fuck on,” he growls.

“Good night, Loki,” I smirk before turning toward my house.

I hear the bike roar down to neutral. I speed up, but I don’t get far before Loki wraps his arms around me from behind. “Run from me again, sugar tits, and I’ll make you regret it,” he growls in my ear. “Your daughter is in there and I want to fuck your goddamn cunt dry, so you have two choices.”

I should kick and scream at him, fight him, but I can’t. My body is alive with the promise of more things Loki and I’m having a hard time responding any other way.

“We can do this here, with your daughter in the next room, or you can get over your self-absorbed ass and get the fuck on my bike, where you fucking belong,” he growls in my ear and I melt further. His claim of my belonging on his bike has my heart doing flutters in my chest. My stomach roars with butterflies and I give in to my body’s desire for the man who’s acting like a caveman.

“Yours,” I tell him with a whisper and he releases me. He turns toward his bike and I follow behind him. He kicks over; holding the bike steady and I step up, flinging my leg over and wrapping my arms around him. I press my cheek to his back. His heartbeat hammers in my ear. Unlike with Rack, I let my hands roam lower and my fingers tickle his hard cock through his jeans.

He growls through his teeth, the vibration tickling my ear. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

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Best Selling Erotic, Paranormal and Contemporary Romance author Zoey Derrick comes from Glendale, Arizona. Zoey, was a mortgage underwriter by day and is now a romance and erotica novelist full-time. She writes stories as hot as the desert sun itself. It is this passion that drips off of her work, bringing excitement to anyone who enjoys a good and sensual love story.

Not only does she aim to take her readers on an erotic dance that lasts the night, it allows her to empty her mind of stories we all wish were true.
 Her stories are hopeful yet true to life, skillfully avoiding melodrama and the unrealistic, bringing her gripping Erotica only closer to the heart of those that dare dipping into it.

The intimacy of her fantasies that she shares with her readers is thrilling and encouraging, climactic yet full of suspense. She is a loving mistress, up for anything, of which any reader is doomed to return to again and again.

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TROPHY WIFE by Alessandra Torre **PROMO**

 

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Everyone in Nashville knows Nathan Dumont. 

That's what happens when you develop half a town and sleep with the rest. Four years ago, his fiancee disappeared.  

Last night, he proposed to me.
 

I'd wanted to escape my life, the seedy strip club and the mountain of bills. I had seized the opportunity to live in a mansion, fill my days with country clubs and caviar, my nights with romance and sex.  

Maybe I should have done my homework first.
 

The Trophy Wife is a standalone erotic romance. It is approximately 70,000 words. An earlier edition of this book was previously released in 2013 under the name The Dumont Diaries, this is an expanded and rewritten edition of that novel, with over 50 pages of new content.

 

#Free on Kindle Unlimited

 

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Alessandra Torre is an award-winning New York Times bestselling author of fourteen novels. Her books focus on romance and suspense, all with a strong undercurrent of sexuality. Torre has been featured in such publications as Elle and Elle UK, co-hosted Dirty Sexy Funny with Jenny McCarthy, as well as guest blogged for the Huffington Post and RT Book Reviews. She has also served as the Bedroom Blogger for Cosmopolitan.com.

You can learn more about Alessandra on her website at www.alessandratorre.com, or you can find her on Twitter (@ReadAlessandra) or Facebook.

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