Tuesday 31 January 2017

CIRQUE ACT 2 (Cirque #2) by Ashleigh Giannoccaro **RELEASE BLITZ**

Cirque Act 2 (Cirque #2)
by Ashleigh Giannoccaro
Genre: Dark Erotic Thriller



Without my box I can’t be me Kidnapped by a clown close to the sea He’s torn inside where one equals two One I hate, the other I love true
Secrets and lies become alibis Sivan is damaged, it’s in his eyes Riddles unravel when you know who masters Now Imogene’s only home is Masters An eye playing spy held me together When I broke, he broke, two ends of frayed tether We’re joined by the past like twin souls in hell Innocent angels molested, and fell I escaped it, but need to go back. To love the man with his face painted black. The circus is known for its eternal magic Our tent of freedom is simply tragic. Once a little girl fell, then she fell for me I’m a fool, and she’s a fool for me There’s a clown inside us all; a purpose But this life, it’s all just a circus.

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I squash the costumes, and bits I bought, into my car as best I can. The back window is completely blocked and I cannot see out of it at all. The clothing smells old and has that musty, almost stale smell, as if the sweat of the original owners is still in the fabric.
The pictures from his office have my mind spinning. He was part of my circus; he was there. That was his family’s circus. When I asked he just got upset and dismissed me, hurrying me to leave. I struck a nerve with him. I desperately want to know more, to ask him more, but risk losing him as a supplier.
My last task is shopping. We need food, toilet paper, and the other shit required to live on the fringes. I stop at the small coastal town nearest my new home and make my way around the few stores there. All I require are the basics, and a somewhat decent coffee. The folks in the stores eye me like the stranger I am, looking me up and down.
In a small grocer I gather fresh produce to cook with. A friendly girl behind the counter smiles and greets me; she doesn’t look at me like the older people have.
“Do you know where I can get a haircut in town?” I ask, while she bags my purchases into green plastic bags. She snickers and looks at me with a sweet smile.
“Two blocks up turn left, there’s a barber, but I think he’d shave it bald if you let him at that.” She eyes my messy long hair. “I wouldn’t cut it if I were you. Here.” She rolls a hair tie off her skinny wrist and hands it to me. “Just pull it back. The man-bun is all the rage nowadays.”
Giving a nod of thanks I pull my hair up into her pink elastic band and pay for the groceries. The final item on my list is done and I am relieved, ready to return to my own world and leave this charade of normal behind me.
“Thank you.” I smile as I grab the bags from the end of her counter.
“Pleasure, new guy in town.” She giggles and turns to help the purple haired old lady who has now ambled up to her cash register.
I leave the store feeling better. This day wasn’t what I hoped it to be, and the answers I wanted are now more questions. My heart is heavy with my mother’s confessions and Gavin’s betrayal. I am human and I feel just like they do.
Fuck me, this is all hurting me more than it should.
The short drive back home isn’t long and the hot afternoon sun is relentless on the car. Even with the AC on the sun burns me through the window.
Bouncing on the rutted dirt track I make my way to the tent, uneasiness making me check my mirrors and scan the surrounds. I feel as if I have been outed; that someone knows I am here now.
When I get out into the searing heat I look at the trailer where she is, and she is standing at my window staring out at me. She looks tired and dirty, broken and defeated. I hardly recognise my beautiful aerial dancer, but I recognise something else. Her eyes are as dead as the ones I watched through the window that summer, glassed over and devoid of emotion, as if the soul in them has perished and floated away with the wind.

About The Author

Bestselling Author Ashleigh Giannoccaro writes edgy dark romance and erotic horror, self published by choice she writes the stories others don’t dare. Currently residing in Johannesburg South Africa with her husband and two daughters Ashleigh enjoys writing stories that make you fall in love with the unlovable and leave you asking questions. When not writing she can be found with her kindle in a sunny spot reading or traveling with her family.
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Tuesday 24 January 2017


**Release Spotlight**
+ Giveaway

A Flaw So Beautiful
By Alora Kate


Lincoln: Catching sight of my neighbor’s ass in the hallway the day I moved in more than piqued my interest. It's not just the body that has my attention. 

She's mysterious, hiding behind sunglasses that cover most of her face. 

I ask her name and try to get her to talk on the rare occasions I see her in the hallway, but every time she ignores me and turns away. 

I need to know more about this woman, I can't get her out of my head. 

Do I keep trying? 

Do I keep asking her name?

Ashton: I’m barely holding on. I’m always on the edge, even after all these years. 

I live every day the same and I can’t change who I am no matter how much I try. 

My new neighbor won't give up asking my name and trying to make conversation with me. 

If he knew me he wouldn't keep trying. I'm a lost cause. 

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Reviews from Goodreads

"If you only read one book this year, then this is the book you NEED to read!" ~ Abigail (GR)

"A Flaw so Beautiful blew me away with how much of an incredible read that it was." ~ Gemma, 2OCC (GR)

"A Flaw So Beautiful is about far more than your standard boy meets girl, girl rejects boy but eventually likes the boy. A Flaw So Beautiful is a story about going through an intense trauma in life but coming out on the other side a survivor." ~ GrnEyed (GR)

"A Flaw So Beautiful is both heartbreaking and uplifting, and Alora Kate has done an amazing job capturing all the emotions and the struggles that Ashton faces on a daily basis." ~ Helen, HelCees Bangin' Books

"How can you describe a book that you loved so much? A Flaw So Beautiful brings light into the darkness of the world. It's real, raw, and heartbreakingly beautiful. I was addicted the first page and couldn't put it down until the last." ~ Reading Momma (GR)

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Head on over here for a chance to win... 

XANDER by Anne Mercier **COVER REVEAL**

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Title: Xander
Series: Rockstar Series #9
Author: Anne Mercier
Models: Nick Bennett & Stef Lambert
Photographer: Sara Eirew
Designer: Sara Eirew
Genre: Rockstar Romance
Release Date: February 19

We met at the age of eight. That day on the playground was a turning point in my life. Her life wasn't easy. Mine was a cake walk. She was a good girl. I was a troublemaker. She was everything and without her I was nothing. I knew it the first time I saw her, and I still know it now.

She wanted me to live my dreams, and I wanted the same for her. Ten years later, we're still living separate lives—seeing one another when we can, which wasn't often with her living in New York City and me in LA. I know my lifestyle has never been one she can handle—the fans, the media, there is no privacy or peace—but I can't be without her anymore.
I need her.

She's the love of my life and when I asked her to come to me last Christmas, she said yes. I've been waiting for her, and now she's here. My heart is finally whole.
But not everything is about me. She's giving up her life there to merge it with mine here. She's giving up her privacy. She's giving up her anonymity. She's giving me everything.
I'm going to give her everything of me in return. But will our love be enough? Can the good in our lives overshadow the bad? Or will all the obstacles we've so carefully avoided break us completely?

Young beautiful couple having romantic fun on the beach

The Series
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Rockstar 2.5 _smash

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About the Author
I was born and raised in Wisconsin and still live here today.
I’m an avid reader who gets inspired by reading the stories from my favorite authors as well as listening to various types of music. I am a huge fan of music, chocolate, fruit, desserts, autumn, M. Shadows, Avenged Sevenfold, and Milo Ventimiglia. Through my books, I am proudly creating new Avenged Sevenfold and Milo Ventimiglia fans one reader at a time.

“The best part of being an author, to me, is being able to take the reader to that one place they long to go when they need to escape reality. Knowing I can do that, for even one reader, makes what I do worthwhile.” ~ Anne Mercier

Hugs and love,
Anne xoxo

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Title: Saving Grace
Series: Loving Meadows #1
Author: Mignon Mykel
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 19, 2016


He calms me. 

An unexpected long-distance friendship showed Gracelyn Dewey the ease of some relationships. Very few people could get past her walls and even then, fewer had the ability to see through her anxieties.

With him, she finds more—but circumstances wouldn’t allow them to keep it. Instead, they find an easy friendship with one another.

Until it wasn’t easy any more. 

She grounds me. 

In his line of work, Sawyer Meadows sees some gut wrenching things. He sees broken people, wounded people, fearful people. He loves his job, yet is losing a piece of himself in the mix.

But there was always her. Drawn to her quiet smile, he has always known she was meant to be something special to him.

A fact that became painfully evident when she found someone else to hold her. 

Somewhere along the way, we lost it. 

They are given one weekend together to fix their friendship.

The days can’t go off without any hitches though. When her recent past and his career collide, they’ll have to decide—is the distance enough to keep them apart? Or are they through letting everything else dictate their happiness? 

She may be my saving grace, but I plan on saving her.

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Also Available

The Loving Meadows Series is a spinoff of the Prescott Family Series. The main characters in Interference have appearances in Saving Grace, just as Sawyer and Grace have appearances in Interference.


Author Bio

Mignon Mykel is the author of the Prescott Family series, as well as the short-novella erotic romance series, O'Gallagher Nights. When not sitting at Starbucks writing whatever her characters tell her to, you can find her hiking in the mountains of her new home in Arizona.

Author Links

Sunday 22 January 2017


Coming February 13th

For three years, I've belonged to Julius King.

Some people would think being stuck on a private island is heaven, but this is my hell.  

Because I'm not here as a guest. Not even close. I'm a prisoner. I'm his.

Julius King. Powerful. Wealthy. Dangerous.

There are parts of me he wants that I can't give him. When he looks at me, there are times I swear he sees someone else. And the scary part is that sometimes, when he touches me, I think he may be someone else, too.

Though my body might be tempted, and he might control everything else, I can't let him have any piece of my heart. I won't. But every day, the fight gets harder, and Julius manages to slip past my defenses in the most unexpected ways.  

I have to find out the truth about Julius King. Even if it destroys me.  

This book is approximately 81,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you're looking for with an HEA/HFN. It's a promise! Find out more at CarinaPress.com/RomancePromise

Chapter One

He’s coming.
A twig creaks. I jerk upright in the swing seat, where that day has been rolling through my mind like a snippet of a movie reel that’s been hacked to pieces, then glued back together.
Him—the reason I’ve spent the last three years in this tropical Caribbean prison.
Leaves crunch. He wants me to hear him coming. Julius enjoys anticipation.
I brush my dress over my knees. Pale blue chiffon picks up with the breeze. “Hello, Julius.”
“Good morning, baby.” He reaches my side and bends down and plants his lips on my cheek.
My eyes close for an instant. His kiss is deceptively warm, but then, hell is warm, no surprise the devil should be too.
“I’ve brought you something.”
The bitterness of his cologne coats my breaths. Like everything about him it’s a bit too much.
“Thank you.”
He leans closer, his watch right by my face.
Tick, tick, tick.
One tick to every two of my heartbeats.
He lays a rolled-up newspaper in my lap. I don’t open the paper.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Not a question, but then, nothing he says ever is.
My gaze collides with his. It’s like looking into the wind, makes me want to blink and look away.
“We’re having guests.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle. “I’m trusting you’ll be polite company.”
“Have I ever been anything else?”
He smiles his serpent smile and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “No, you’re perfect.”
I’d bite him, but he has a nice firm grip on my lady-balls, and he knows it.
Leverage. He has it—I don’t.
It’s the reason why, even if I could escape, even if he didn’t control all transport on and off the island, I’d still stay.
Everything here is in his control, even me.
Except for one thing.
I smile back at him, a real smile. There’s something I have that he doesn’t. Something that makes me want to gloat. Captivity has made me petty.
“Thanks.” I keep that satisfaction inside.
There’s a reason visitors make me giddy. There’s one thing I know that Julius doesn’t. There’s something that gives me hope.
“Dinner’s at five.” He releases my chin.
His sharp gaze disappears under the aviator sunglasses he slides over the bridge of his nose. I watch him leave, and wait until he’s rounded the corner to the house.
Only when he’s completely out of sight, I unwind the newspaper. He gives me many gifts, and on Fridays it’s always this. A weekly recap of a world moving along without me. It’s been rolled for too long and tries to curl back in on itself. I scan the headlines, flicking through the features and articles. Royals got married. A celebrity named their baby something that’ll plague the poor kid for the rest of eternity. Politicians broke election promises and sports happened. I circle back through the paper, trying to suck in this one taste of the outside world I ever get.
I scan one more time, pausing over my horoscope. “Do you really require the messages your forecast reveals? You have all the answers the cosmos can provide. Connect with your intuitive—”
I sigh and turn the page. What happened to the days when I could rely on the little strip in the back of the paper to tell me something useful, or at least hopeful—like to expect a tall dark stranger to sweep me off my feet? Please bring back that astrologer now. As much as I like my feet rooted in the dirt, I’ve spent the last three years praying for the stranger.
For anything.
Some small clue.
Now not even my fortune can be bothered pretending to reveal a sign. I close the paper, and fold it in half. Run my finger over the date.
The date...
My finger stills. I can’t move it from the number. I don’t want to see. Math was never my subject but I get this math right away.
I drag my finger aside.
One month.
I have exactly one month left until the first of October. The ticking in my head clicks louder than his watch had.
I’m almost out of time.
* * *

For a man with a fully staffed private island, it’s surprising the things Julius insists on doing himself. He likes to cook. More specifically, he likes to barbecue. Fat hisses on the grill. My tongue moistens despite myself. The empty plate in front of me seems bigger, somehow more empty. No one does meat like Julius.
He’s a master of flesh.
I’ve seen him butcher a calf himself. Make his own sausage, hang and cure charcuterie. I’ve watched him massage salt into a whole pig with his hands—impale lambs for the spit.
Today his table is full. So the barbecue will be too.
Unfortunately, I know all the faces crowding the twelve-seat outdoor setting. None of them are ones I care to see. Next to me, Dan pops the lid on a beer. His third. Don’t know why he bothers, it’s nonalcoholic. Not that Dan doesn’t enjoy his drink. I’ve seen the man stumble back to the table with piss on his jeans when he’s “off duty,” which isn’t often. Even off duty, Julius’s Men are always Julius’s Men.
And Julius likes his men and his muscle sober.
That’s Dan—muscle.
I glance at him briefly. He’s so big it’s heinous. Yet, for a guy who occasionally pisses on himself, I’ve seen those thick arms move quick enough to shoot a glass out of a person’s hands as they’re drinking. Unlike Julius, this snake doesn’t cover its scales. He wears jeans, and T-shirts that leave enough skin bare to let everyone know exactly how much time he’s done. Some days, if he’s had to stay over unexpectedly, when he lifts his arm to take a swig of his nonalcoholic beer, the odor alone is enough to knock a person dead.
No disguises, he’s a thug.
Julius lifts a T-bone with the prongs of his meat fork, then drops it onto the grill. A wave of smoke drifts over us. I wave my hand in front of my face, then reach for a glass of orange juice. The tang cleanses my palate. Sweet, and full of pulp I have to chew. Fresh-squeezed by Pa, the elderly man sitting two seats from me on the left. The seat between Pa and me remains empty. I set the juice next to the glass of wine beside my plate, untouched as always.
“Potato?” Dan hands me the stainless-steel bowl filled to the brim with potato salad. I take the bowl but pass it past Pa, who I know full well doesn’t believe in mayonnaise, to Leo.
Leo, Julian’s younger muscle, takes the potato salad without looking. He knows his eyes don’t belong on me. All of them do.
Almost all of them.
Julius joins us at the table with a platter full of meat. He serves his guests first. Jack Connelly and his five “brothers.” Then me. He lays a steak on my plate. Rib eye. Meat of the day is T-bone, but I have rib eye. My favorite, cooked medium how I like it. He’s never asked me to choose a cut, never asked me how well I prefer meat cooked, but he knows.
He had my tastes figured out in the first month. I can’t begin to think what he’s learned about me in three years.
“Thank you,” I say.
I give him only detached politeness. Formality. While he figures out my personal tastes, I figure out how little I can give him before he feels the need to reel me closer.
It’s a game—push-pull-push.
Julius always being the pusher.
He dishes up meat to his men, Dan, Leo, Pa and the new guy. I don’t look at the new guy. He hasn’t learned the rules yet and frankly I’ve got no desire to watch him bleed, despite the fact that if he’s working for Julius, he most likely has it coming.
The table’s split six to six.
Julius prefers things that way—even.
Even or in his favor.
He places a dripping steak on his own plate, then puts the meat tray in the center of the table with the mountains of other food.
My spine creaks more than his chair when he sits.
Dan used to sit where I’m sitting. Before I “came along.” Now I sit here, on Julius’s right. Yep, I’m his right-hand girl. I’ve brought nothing to this table, contributed nothing, but here I sit at his right.
I stretch for the garlic butter, and fork a large knob on top of the rib eye. You can bet your sweet ass I don’t hold back on that stuff. Never know when a girl might need a little garlic breath on her side. Male voices laugh and boom across the table, joining a chorus of scraping knives and clinking glasses.
They don’t speak to me, so I don’t speak either.
One of them, the stupid new one, watches me, though. He’s careful. Only glancing at me for a heartbeat or two before moving on.
But I don’t miss that throbbing pause. If he’s not careful, neither will Julius. He’s too stupid to live, that one. I make new guy a black spot in my vision. Don’t see him. Don’t hear him. When I look around the table, it’s like that chair is vacant.
“Something wrong with your steak, baby?”
The voices around us dull. Everything grows quieter when Julius speaks.
I set down my fork, one untouched morsel on the tines. “It’s a little overdone.”
It’s not, it’s perfect. No steak would ever suffer overcooking in Julius’s care. I don’t smirk. By some divine miracle the satisfaction stays under wraps.
“You should have said something.” He leans closer, leans right over me. “You know I’ll always take care of you.” His voice is low, dropped down to some husky key that seems to be reserved solely for me. My breath hiccups. Yes, he takes care of me. Every single moment of every single day. It’s Julius who feeds me. He who clothes me. He who keeps me safe.
He who can take all away.
He drags the steak off my plate with his fork, and tosses it onto the grass with a sharp swing of his arm. Not on a plate or in the bin, onto the lawn that looks as though it’s been trimmed by a thousand leprechauns with nail clippers, not a blade out of place.
Julius did that. Julius, who likes everything just so.
My pulse pounds in my ears like it’s trying to tell me something. I’ve heard this same thudding warning for years.
Watch out, watch out, watch out.
My heart doesn’t seem to realize I never stopped doing just that.
He cuts his T-bone, then scoops half up. Blood drips in the space between us. He drops the cut on my plate. So rare it’s almost blue.
I stare at his arm.
His shirtsleeves are rolled up, his right arm exposed to the elbow. That’s the benefit of sitting on his right. I get his clean side. Don’t have to stare at the evil thing on his neck. Dark hairs run down his forearm to his wrist, growing finer as they bridge the top of his hand. I wonder how far I’d get if I rammed my fork in that arm—right in his wrist joint—if I just lodged it right in there...
How long would it take for him to reach for the gun at his side?
How far could I get?
To the dock, maybe, with the help of a little adrenaline? Before Danny boy got to me. Before I remembered that every way off this island is Julius’s.
Before I remembered the other things keeping me here.
“Happy?” There’s that soft personal tone again, and it’s impossible not to hear. Impossible not to catch the switch when he speaks to me.
I look at him, something like a smile biting the corners of my lips. “Thank you, Julius.”
He turns back to his guests. The Connellys all sit together on the other side of the table. Jack Connelly in the middle. If Jack is here, it means one thing—today’s business is guns.
The kind Julius carries around tucked in the back of his pants.
Until I met him, I’d never seen a handgun.
I’d seen plenty of shotguns. At home even our gardener walked around with one on his back. Growing up, I thought everyone who worked on acreage carried a shotgun. Dad told me they were for snakes. Yet, in all my years, I never saw a single snake.
Not one.
But then, there were a lot of men with a lot of guns on our ranch to keep them at bay.
Now I know they were always waiting for a different kind of snake.

After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fuelled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

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