Cover Reveal – FIGHTING SOLITUDE by Aly Martinez

fighting solitude cover

Fighting Solitude is Book Three in the On The Ropes Series by Aly Martinez and is Quarry’s highly anticipated story!

Now Available for Pre-order

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**Special Pre-order Pricing!**

**Each book in the series can be read as a standalone**

fighting solitude

Blurb

I was born a fighter. Abandoned by my parents, I spent my life forging my own path—one guided by my fists and paved with pain.

Untouchable in the ring, I destroyed everyone who faced me, but that’s where my victories ended. Outside the ropes, I repeatedly failed the few people who loved me. Including my best friend, Liv James—the one person I’d die to protect.

Even though I didn’t deserve her, Liv never stopped believing in me. Never gave up. Never let go. After all, she understood what I’d lost, because she’d lost it too.

Liv was everything to me, but she was never truly mine.

That was going to change.

I lost my first love, but I refused to lose my soulmate.

Now, I’m on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.

Fighting to be the man she deserves.

Fighting the solitude of our pasts.

Fighting for her.

beautiful young  woman in an elegant dress studio shot

 

Fighting Solitude

Prologue

“Mia!” I shouted.

It was worthless. She’d been deaf since the day I met her.

She’d never once heard my voice.

She’d never heard the deep rumble of my laugh when she was excited, signing so fast I could barely keep up.

She’d never heard my content sigh when she barged into the locker room after a fight—just her presence soothed the lingering madness brewing within me.

She’d never heard me whispering my deepest fears into her ear as she fell asleep on top of me.

She’d never heard the reverence in which I cried her name each and every time I took her body.

And she’d never once heard the ease in which the words I love you tumbled from my lips as I stared into her deep, jade green eyes.

But as I screamed her name while watching her petite body seizing in the passenger seat beside me, I’d never needed her to hear me more.

“Mia. Oh God. I’ve got you, baby.”

She was still thrashing violently as I made my way around to her door, yanking it open while pleading with whatever god was willing to help.

When she stilled, a whole new level of silence filled the air around us. It wasn’t the absence of sound.

It was the absence of life.

“Mia, breathe!” I roared as her chest remained agonizingly still. “Help me!” I screamed at the closed emergency room doors, but no medical savior rushed out with the miracle I so desperately needed.

My hands shook wildly as I released her lifeless body from the seatbelt.

“I’ve got you, just hang on. Please just hang on, Mia,” I whispered lifting her into my arms and sprinting through the sliding doors. “I need a doctor! She’s not breathing!”

Nurses rushed towards me in slow motion as the seconds without air in her lungs passed at a terrifying speed.

Breathe.

A doctor appeared with a gurney and quickly took her from my arms.

The immediate loss was staggering.

Hope became my only solace.

She needed help that I wasn’t capable of giving her, but that didn’t stop me from following close behind as they rolled her away. I was on the verge of self-destructing; letting her out of my sight wasn’t an option.

I stood motionless in the doorway while doctors and nurses swarmed around her. Their mouths moved frantically, but without my hearing aids I was worthless to make out the words their faint voices carried.

I never wore my hearing aids when I was with Mia. There was no point. She rarely spoke with her voice.

We’d spent four years building a relationship with our hands.

Those hands had told me animated stories that made me laugh until my face hurt from smiling.

They’d fought with me relentlessly, but always ended the night raking down my back in silent ecstasy.

Her fingers had fluidly signed I love you more times than I could ever count—or forget.

But as I felt the nurse attempting to physically remove me from the room, my eyes became fixated on her limp hand dangling off the side of the bed. It was the only sight more frightening than watching her flail mid-seizure.

It ripped the heart straight from my chest.

That hand was supposed to be full of life.

It was the very essence of Mia.

Pale.

White.

Still.

Oh God.

Sucking in a deep breath, I held it until the room began to spin.

It provided me no relief even as it forced me to my knees.

There would be no distraction from this.

I was going to lose her.

Yet another woman I couldn’t save.

 

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Fighting Silence (Book One) On the Ropes

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Fighting Shadows (Book Two) On The Ropes

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About the Author:

Aly Martinez

aly martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Excerpt Reveal – FIRST TOUCH by Laurelin Paige

first touch december 10th

first touch pre-order

Now available for Pre-order!

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REEVE IS COMING! 

Meet Reeve & Emily in First Touch releasing December 29th!

first touch cover

Blurb

When Emily Wayborn goes home to visit her mom while on hiatus from her hit TV show, she receives a voicemail from her former best friend, Amber. Though the two were once notorious party girls, they haven’t spoken in years. Although the message might sound benign to anyone else, Amber uses a safe word that Emily recognizes, a word they always used to get out of sticky situations during their wild days. And what’s more chilling than the voicemail: it turns out that Amber has gone missing.

Determined to track down her friend, Emily follows a chain of clues that lead her to the enigmatic billionaire Reeve Sallis, a hotelier known for his shady dealings and play boy reputation. Now, in order to find Amber, Emily must seduce Reeve to learn his secrets and discover the whereabouts of her friend. But as she finds herself more entangled with him, she finds she’s drawn to Reeve for more than just his connection to Amber, despite her growing fear that he may be the enemy. When she’s forced to choose where her loyalty lies, how will she decide between saving Amber and saving her heart?

first touch teaser 3

Excerpt

The first time I shared a man with Amber had been on my seventeenth birthday.

She’d been hanging around the neighborhood for the better part of the six months before that, and we’d become friends. We had the same taste in food and music and movies and, unlike the other girls we knew, we both preferred a line of coke to a bowl of weed. “Champagne taste,” Amber would say. “That’s us.”

Though we were both the same age, our lives had been very different. I’d go to school during the day, trying to pretend that my grades were salvageable as she’d watched The Home Shopping Network and ate Cheetos on the neighbor’s couch. Amber had dropped out of high school, and since she’d also runaway from home, no one was pushing her to go while graduation was the one thing my mother demanded of me.

I’d hated everything back then. School. My mother. My neighborhood. My body. Everything but Amber. She’d been fun. Sassy. Sexy. She was electric and electrifying and everything I wanted to be. And she cared for me. Maybe even loved me. If I had gone to a shrink they probably would have said that was why I latched onto her—that I thought of her as the mother mine had never been. I knew how screwed up everything seemed. But who could ever know why a person fell for another? I only knew that I had been dull and dim and that Amber made me less so.

She’d also had things I didn’t. Things that money bought. The clothes she wore were designer, her nails were always done. She’d lowered her panties once to show me her Brazilian. Whenever I’d asked how she paid for things, she’d always answered simply, “My uncle.” Even as we’d grown closer to each other that was all she’d tell me about the mysterious relative.

“For your birthday,” she’d said two days before, “I’ve got a surprise. Plan to spend the weekend with me.”

So that Friday, I slipped out of school early and met Amber at the bus station where she purchased two tickets to Santa Monica. Though I couldn’t get her to give me even a hint as to where we were going or what we were doing, I spent the two-hour bus ride buzzing with excitement. Whatever Amber had in mind, I knew without a doubt that this trip would be the beginning of the next phase of my life. I was ready. I was so ready.

Outside the station in Santa Monica, Amber bummed a smoke off a street musician and I scanned the street, taking in the sights of a place I’d never been. A red convertible parked nearby caught my attention, more specifically, the man leaning against it. He was older, maybe as old as my mother, but attractive. Not because he was all that good looking, exactly—though his body was definitely fit and trim—but because of what he exuded. Confidence. Assurance. Money. He drew my attention, and in the way that a restless, sexually charged young girl often did, I found myself wondering about him. What it would be like to kiss a man like him. What it would feel like to be beneath him. I’d had plenty of sex before. With boys from school. I’d yet to meet one who knew what he was doing, and though I would never have admitted it out loud, I was dying for it, thoughts of it never far from my mind.

When Amber followed the line of my sight, she dropped her cigarette with a squeal and exclaimed, “There he is, Em! Come on.”

“There who is?” I asked as she tugged me toward the very man I’d been staring at.

“My uncle!” After throwing her duffle bag into the back seat, she jumped into the man’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Then she proceeded to make out with him like I’d done on more than one occasion with the boys under the bleachers at school. Never out on a public street. Never with a man who had to shave everyday.

When they had finished their display and Amber was back on her feet again, she made introductions. “Rob this is Emily. Em, Rob.”

He may have said something to me. I didn’t really know because I’d been too busy staring at her, my jaw gaping.

“Oh, Emily, he’s not really my uncle,” she told me as she jumped into the passenger seat. “Get in.”

She’d misread the cause of my surprise. I grinned—only one of the many times I’d grin that day—and climbed in the backseat. If Amber hadn’t been the coolest person I’d ever met before that moment, she’d certainly proven herself now.

first touch teaser 2

About the Author:

laurelin paigeLaurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

Blog Tour – CORRUPT by Penelope Douglas

TB - Corrupt

Title: Corrupt

Author: Penelope Douglas

Genre: Dark | Erotica | Contemporary Romance

Release Date: November 17, 2015

Tour Hosted by: As the Pages Turn

Corrupt 500x777

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abouthebook

Erika

I was told that dreams were our heart’s desires. My nightmares, however, became my obsession.

His name is Michael Crist.

My boyfriend’s older brother is like that scary movie that you peek through your hand to watch. He is handsome, strong, and completely terrifying. The star of his college’s basketball team and now gone pro, he’s more concerned with the dirt on his shoe than me.

But I noticed him.
I saw him. I heard him. The things that he did, and the deeds that he hid…For years, I bit my nails, unable to look away.

Now, I’ve graduated high school and moved on to college, but I haven’t stopped watching Michael. He’s bad, and the dirt I’ve seen isn’t content to stay in my head anymore. Because he’s finally noticed me.

Michael

Her name is Erika Fane, but everyone calls her Rika.

My brother’s girlfriend grew up hanging around my house and is always at ourdinner table. She looks down when I enter a room and stills when I am close. I can always feel the fear rolling off of her, and while I haven’t had her body, I know that I have her mind. That’s all I really want anyway.

Until my brother leaves for the military, and I find Rika alone at college.

In my city.

Unprotected.

The opportunity is too good to be true as well as the timing. Because you see, three years ago she put a few of my high school friends in prison, and now they’re out.

We’ve waited. We’ve been patient. And now every last one of her nightmares will come true.

 

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Michael

 excerpt

 

I fell back to my feet and crept through my apartment as I listened to the pounding that had now become a steady attack. My feet followed the sound, stepping absently closer to it, and I finally pressed my ear against the wall leading to my hallway, my heart racing as the vibrations touched my skin.
Resting my cheek against the surface, I swallowed the tight lump in my throat as the thumping against the wall grew faster and faster.
There was someone over there. In the empty apartment.
Holding up my phone, I dialed the office downstairs but got no answer.  I knew there was a night manager named Simon Something-Or-Other, but I didn’t think many people were on duty at night. He must be away from his desk.
I continued listening, wondering if I could ignore it and just wait until morning to ask the manager about it, but the further down the hall I travelled, the louder it got until I was standing next to the rear entrance.
Opening up the door, I peeked my head into the hallway, holding the heavy steel exit open just enough to inspect.
Glancing to my right, I saw a door just like mine. And then I hear d a woman’s high-pitched cry ring out around me, and I started breathing harder.
And then there was another cry. And another, and another, and…
Was she having sex?
My mouth fell open as I tried not to laugh.
Oh, my God.
But I thought the place was supposed to be empty.
I stepped out, knife in hand—just in case—and walked quietly down to the other door, glancing up and seeing small security cameras along the wall, probably installed when the apartments were built.
Pressing my ear to the door, I listened, still hearing the thump, thump, thump of something hitting the wall, and the girl’s breathy cries over and over again.
I folded my lips between my teeth, covering my smile with my free hand.
But then the woman cried out. “No! Ah, oh, God! Please!”
And my face fell, hearing the fear in her voice. The short, shrill screams were now different. Panicked and scared, and her cries sounded struggled. My mouth suddenly went dry as I stood there listening.
“Ah!” she cried out again. “No, please stop!”
I backed away from the door, not finding it funny anymore.
But then something hit the door from the other side, making a loud thud, and I scurried backward.
“Oh, shit,” I gritted out under my breath.
I shot my head up to the cameras, now wondering if they fed to Security downstairs or to whoever was inside the apartment. Did they know I was out here?
I spun around and dashed for my door, grabbing the handle and trying to twist it.
But it was locked. “Dammit!” I mouthed. Fucking thing must lock automatically.
Another thud hit the door, mere feet away from me—so close—and I darted my eyes over to it, my breathing turning fast and painful.
I pulled on the door handle again, twisting and yanking, but it didn’t budge.
Another thud hit the door, and I jerked upright, dropping the knife.
“Shit.”
I dived down to pick it up, but just then I heard the other door swing open, so I bolted down the stairwell, hiding behind the wall and forgetting about the knife.
Fuck!
Screw this. Whoever was coming out of the vacant apartment was definitely someone I didn’t want to meet. I dashed down flight after flight, a cry lodged in my throat as fear gripped my chest.
A pounding echoed above me, and I spared a quick glance upward, seeing a hand sliding down the railings as whoever it was jumped flights of stairs.
Oh, my God. I raced down, one flight after the other, a drop of sweat gliding down my neck. The pounding was getting closer and closer, my legs about to give out as my exhausted muscles worked as fast as they could. I gasped, seeing the door labeled LOBBY. I yanked it open and burst through, looking behind me once again to see if he—or she—was behind me.
But then I slammed into a wall, and I let out a small cry as hands gripped my upper arms.
I looked up and exhaled a breath, seeing Michael Crist towering over me, his eyes narrowed.
“Michael?” I breathed out, frozen in confusion.
“What the hell are you doing?” He arched a brow and set me back, away from him, and let go of my arm.
“It’s after one a.m.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Why was he here?
He stood in front of an elevator, a different one than I had taken this morning, dressed in a black suit, looking like he’d just been at a club or something. A young brunette stood next to him, beautiful in a tight, navy-blue cocktail dress that fell mid-thigh.
I suddenly felt exposed, dressed in my silk sleep shorts and black tank top, my hair hanging about, probably in tangles.
“I…” I looked over my shoulder again, noticing that whoever had followed me down the stairs hadn’t come out the door yet.
I twisted my head back, looking up at Michael. “I heard something up on my floor,” I told him.
And then I shook my head, still confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” he shot back, and I immediately recognized that ever-present intolerant tone that he always used with me.
“Live here?” I questioned. “I thought you lived in your family’s building.”
He slid a hand into his pocket and cocked his head, looking at me point-blank like I was stupid.
I closed my eyes, expelling a sigh. “Of course, ” I breathed out, realization hitting. “Of course. You’re the one who lives on the twenty-second floor.”

aboutheauthor

Penelope D

Penelope Douglas is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Fall Away series. She dresses for autumn year round, loves anything lemon flavored, and believes there is too much blood in her Coca Cola stream. Or too much Coca Cola in her blood stream. Or… You know what? It doesn’t matter. She loves Coke. Now you know. She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and daughter.

Website + Facebook + Twitter + Pinterest + Instagram + Goodreads

giveaways

The following goodies are up for grabs!

  • (1) Signed copy of Corrupt + $100 Amazon orB&N gift card, winner’s choice (Intl)
  • (2) $20 Amazon or B&N gift card, winner’s choice (Intl)

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Virtual Tour – FORGED IN FIRE by Lindsay McKenna

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FORGED IN FIRE
DELOS #3
Lindsay McKenna
Releasing Dec 3rd, 2015
Blue Turtle Publishing
Pediatrician Dara McKinley loves her job. So how could she say no when her sister asks her to come to Kabul for a few weeks to offer medical assistance at a local orphanage? Terrified of the dangers surrounding her, Dara finds unexpected solace in the protective arms of Sergeant Matt Culver. Transfixed by the warrior with the exotic gold eyes, can Dara overcome her fears?
Matt, a Delta Force operator, has always listened to his instincts, and they have yet to steer him wrong. So when he sees the alluring blond belly dancer at Bagram’s annual holiday show, he knows without a doubt that she’s “the one.” Now he just has to convince her to take a chance on him…and love. If they survive…
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Exclusive Excerpt

“HEY, CULVER, COME on. There’s a Thanksgiving show over at the main chow hall,” Beau Gardner drawled, grabbing his best friend by the upper arm. “Get your sorry ass up and let’s go.”

Matt gave him a cranky look. He sat on a bench in the locker room of CAG/Delta Force HQ at Bagram, pulling his scarred, dusty boots off his aching feet. “You go,” he muttered, “I’m not up for it.”

They’d just come off a bitch of a three-day mission chasing down Taliban near the Af-Pak border. The rest of Matt’s five-man team was now cleaning their weapons, then storing them in their lockers in the building’s cramped quarters.

“All I want is a hot shower, food, and a bunk,” Matt groaned. “I’m wiped.”

Beau, who was naked and getting ready to shower, said, “It’s three days to Thanksgiving here at Bagram, and none of us are goin’ home for the holiday, bro. The charity girls are joining the USO folks and are putting on a talent show over at the chow hall for all of us.” He punched Matt in the arm. “Hey, it’s women! At least we can sit and slobber, even if we can’t touch ’em.”

Matt pushed his dark brown hair streaked with gold off his brow and grumpily looked up at his tall, lanky buddy. He and Beau had been in Delta Force now for five years and had forged a solid friendship. “I’m done in,” he said. “All I want is to shower and get about three days’ worth of sleep.”

But Beau wasn’t about to give up. “Hey, I’ve heard there’s a lot of good-lookin’ women over there. Come on, grab a shower and let’s go to the chow hall, eat, and take in the show.”

Growling, Matt shoved off his boot and tipped it over, sand spilling out onto the concrete floor. “Jesus, Beau. You are a total pain in the ass. Now get off my back, damn it, so I can take my shower.”

Chuckling, Beau said, “Hey, you’re our team leader. You gotta be there to represent us.”

Like hell, Matt thought. His back was stiff from a twenty-foot fall he’d taken off a cliff in the middle of the night. He’d been wearing NVGs, night-vision goggles, but was running after a fleeing Taliban group and hadn’t seen that the hill they were on suddenly dropped off. He wasn’t alone in taking a tumble, either. But right now, his hips, knee joints, and elbows were so stiff that all he wanted was to feel some steaming shower water massage the pain away.

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Lindsay McKenna lives her life as a risk taker, and it shines through the books she loves to write:
romance, adventure and suspense. She started writing at age thirteen and continues to hone her writing skills to this day. She sold her first romance novel in 1981. The rest is history.
Because she went into the military, this experience became the backbone of her writing—she is credited with writing the first military romance novel (Captive of Fate, 1983, Silhouette Special Edition) and has created a thriving sub-genre within the romance field! As a New York Times Best Selling author, she has sold 23 million books and in 32 foreign languages in her career thus far. Her many experiences in the U.S. Navy are backdrop for her understanding of the military in general, and also her very successful Morgan’s Mercenaries, which is an ongoing series in Silhouette to this day! Forty-five books strong!
Lindsay has gone Indie in 2015 and has created a new family saga on par with Morgan’s Mercenaries It is known as the DELOS SERIES. There will be paperback and eBooks created under Blue Turtle
Publishing, her company for her fans. Readers who love Morgan and his family are bound to fall in love with the Culver family. Delos is romantic suspense, which Lindsay is well known for. It took her five years to create and bring DELOS to her readers. It was worth the wait, but we’ll let you decide that.
Lindsay loves to hear from her readers and loves to know what they’d like to see her write next. Stay up with the latest on the Delos Series here. Please visit her Web site at www.lindsaymckenna.com. And be sure to sign up for her free quarterly newsletter. It contains exclusive content found nowhere else on the Net. Plus, giveaways and other surprises, to her loyal and faithful subscribers!
 
 
Grab a FREE Ebook copy of 
LAST CHANCE
The Prequel Novella to NOWHERE TO HIDE
 

Don’t miss DELOS Series Books 1 & 2, 
NOWHERE TO HIDE & TANGLED PURSUIT
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