Excerpt Reveal – Lovesick – T.L. Smith


Author: TL Smith

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: February 1



I couldn’t do broken.

Broken is what he was.

Broken is what I will always be.

To his eyes, that held so much despair, I couldn’t look for long.

To his fist, that clenched so tightly, like he was locking away the sorrow.

To his lips, that never uttered a word, from the years of heartbreak.

And despite it all, I couldn’t stay away from him.

It was like he was drowning in an ocean, and I wanted to grab his face, and whisper to his lips, “Don’t forget to breathe.”

This was how I fell for a man. A man who was so lovesick, I was afraid he would drown me in that same ocean he was lost in.


Lovesick Teaser 2


I used to believe I was a strong woman, a good woman, a faithful woman. I had dreams, things I wanted to accomplish, places I wanted to visit. Things I wanted to do and see.

My hands rubbed softly on my upper thigh. I tried to stop the wince that accompanied that action, but escaped me anyway. My hand lifted slowly, I looked at my nails, they were chewed right down to the skin. I used to love my nails, now I looked at them and despised them as much as I despised my weaknesses—the pitiful looks that I got from others, my hair that hadn’t been colored for over a year, my dry and broken skin that felt like sandpaper, my gaunt and haggard eyes.

My mind—well, that’s beyond repair. Questions like ‘would I ever be pretty enough or smart enough’ for his love ran rampant through my mind. Instead, all I got was his fists. They loved me, he told me so.

I listened hard as his footsteps came closer. I hadn’t cooked dinner because I’d lost track of time, sitting in that bathroom, listening to my own heartbeat, reminding me that I was still alive. Reminding me I could still breathe, still function, but only barely.

His fists crashed down hard on the door rocking it on the hinges, my body pulled itself in tighter, gripping harder onto the very foundations of my sanity. It didn’t want me to move, it wanted me to stay safe, to heal.

My mind knew otherwise. It knew that if I didn’t move within the next sixty seconds, more would follow, his patience would run thin, very thin. The second wave of his fists came down on the door, this time the ferocity of the jolts moved the door back and forth. I could hear the sounds of wood cracking and splintering slightly with every impact. My arms pull tighter, my body went rigid.

I internally screamed at myself to shift—just to get up and move.

You can do it I told myself. But my body had had enough, knowing that it couldn’t take any more punishment. It plain and simply didn’t want to accept any more.

I loved him so fiercely, so blindly that I gave him my all, and in return he gave me fractions of himself then his fists. His punishments hurt, but then he would kiss me with scolding passion, telling me I was the only one for him. I wanted to believe what he told me, I wanted to believe that our love could overcome his evil actions. I wanted to believe that five years ago when he first struck me—believing it was my fault—that it would only be that one time, and that he loved me so much he would never dare hurt me on purpose again.

Pushing thirty seconds, the time had clicked away in my head slowly. Those thirty seconds felt more like a lifetime. Again I attempted to force my body to move, screaming that there was only a mere thirty seconds at the most remaining. Yet again, it chose to ignore me. It was like we had been separated, something I knew I should have done with Jamie the first time five long years ago. Love is blind.

There was three more sets of pounding and counting, his cold hard voice started to permeate through the bathroom door. He told me to open it, to get out there. I didn’t reply, afraid of how my voice would deceive me.

I tried wiggling my toes, using all my concentration to work on that tiny action. It worked, I closed my eyes and willed my legs to move.

I just need to stand, I prayed to them.

The pounding had gotten harder, the banging louder as he frantically went about his fourth attempt. His temper was now raging. If I didn’t open that door in the next ten seconds, it would be torn from its hinges, I knew it would.

My hands clenched into fists, my eyes closed, a single tear escaped my eye. I wondered why, as my hand went up to touch it. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried or the last tear I’d shed. It all stayed inside, eating and chewing away at me. A war within my body raged that I knew I couldn’t win, but chose to try.

I looked down at my wet finger, while my other eye remained dry.

How odd. A single tear? Just the one escaping and running for its freedom. I wiped it across my shirt so it couldn’t escape. If I couldn’t, it couldn’t. It was only fair.

My hand landed on the door handle just as his hammering came again, and I managed to turn and open it. He stood there, tall and expansive. Stunningly gorgeous. He’d come straight from the gym, his shirt was off, his shoulders broad. His skin glistened with sweat.

How could someone so evil look like that? His mouth was tight, his hands were opening and closing at his sides. With all the pounding he’d done on the door, there were tiny blotches of blood on his knuckles. He was attempting to release the anger he had for me through his tight-clenched fists. I didn’t even know why. His hazel eyes closed, just for a brief second, enough time for me to take a deep breath before he stepped closer and I instinctively shuffled back the smallest of steps hoping he wouldn’t notice.

His hand came up, my insides screamed, my body wanted to bolt. But it was a gentle hand that touched my face, deceiving me again. I never closed my eyes to him anymore, I wanted to see the look on his face, store it in my memory for safe keeping every time he was angry. At first, it was to collect clues, to consider what it was I was doing to make him angry, and now it was just a habit. I couldn’t close them, even when I was choking I couldn’t close them. I needed to see that demonic fire in his eyes, remember it, preserve it, use it.

“Baby,” he whispered, stepping even closer. His touch on my skin was hot, scalding, burning me with an intensity that could melt steel, while his other hand grabbed at my hip. He leaned in, his lips touched mine, just softly.

I loved him, I hated him. I couldn’t figure out between the two feelings which were worse.

“I’ve missed you.” His hands came around my hips, circling, until they reached my ass and he squeezed hard. He breathed me in when his mouth left mine. Slow and soft kisses touched my shoulders. This was the part I hated myself the most for. That no matter how much I hated him, he was the only man who knew how to touch me. To make me only see him, to only want him. I. Hated. That.

He pushed himself into the bathroom fully, shutting the door that I struggled so hard to open. Closing it like there was no effort at all involved, while I fought with every ounce of strength I could muster within me to open it. He lifted my tender body, placing me in the shower, stripping my dress, and kissed every mark that he’d marked on me. I didn’t move, and soon he was as naked as me, the cold water running down my breasts. His hands ran up and down not so tenderly this time as he lifted and slammed me against the bathroom wall. My breath hitched. My breathing became hard for two reasons, one it hurt and two he was about to make me come. Even when I knew it was wrong, even when he whispered his love in my ear, I screamed internally my body shaking.

He carried me to our room, a room that was full of everything that was his. A single drawer to my name. I didn’t have much, he didn’t allow me the pleasure of my own things.

He laid me on the bed then got on top of me, his eyes shone brightly.

“I’m leaving you.” I rush the words out.

It was my body, my mind, and it seemed to have gained some control. My insides screamed, why must you do this? His eyes went wide, my hands started to sweat. Those beautiful lips became hard to mine. His hands moved from my side, snaked up around my neck, and I took one last breath as I watched the love of my life, the only man I’d ever loved, squeeze the life right out of me.

Like it was nothing.

PreOrder Now

Lovesick Coming Soon




About the Author


T.L Smith Lover of chocolate, books, but mostly words.

T.L Smith loves to travel, loves to shop for books, sometimes shoes 😉

Don’t be shy about contacting T.L Smith, she doesn’t bite, hard!

Website * Facebook * Twitter

Hosted By:

Logo PNG (1)

Excerpt Reveal – Forbidden Love (South Coast Brothers MC #4) – Kacey Hamford



Title: Forbidden Love
Series: South Coast Brothers MC #4
Author: Kacey Hamford
Cover Designer: SP Cover Design
Release Date: November 30th


for just 99c!
When Ashlyn escaped the hell she was dragged into, she
thought her life was over, damaged. Then came along the one man she couldn’t
have. Never mind that he was the only person she had ever felt such a
connection to, the only man she felt that she could trust. So what did she do?
She denied those feelings, fought them. Because what use is a Forbidden Love to
a broken girl?
Everything that had happened in Drake’s life had led to that exact
moment and things were finally on track, being a prospect for the club that
saved him made him more thankful than he could ever explain. The brothers, his
family gave him the chance that no one else would. And as soon as he saw her he
was willing to throw that all away. So decisions had to be made… His loyalty to
his family or his love for the girl who he would give his life to protect. Even
though it was Forbidden, Drake had never felt anything more real…
Excerpt 1
 “Do we really have to leave?” Ashlyn asked as
she ran her hands through her blonde, wavy hair. I was leant against the
communal bathroom door watching her as she got ready for the party. She was
wearing a white summer dress that hit her knees, strappy sandals and a white
short cardigan that covered up her scars on the top of her back. Those ones
weren’t very noticeable, you wouldn’t see them unless you knew about them.
 “Yes, Prez’s orders,” she looked down at her
hands. “What is it?” I stalked into the room until I was pressed against her
back and looking at her through the bathroom mirror.
 “We’ve been safe here, no drama and no
danger. I just feel like that’s going to change once we leave.” Her eyes connected
with mine and I saw unshed tears forming.
 “I’m not going to lie to you, it might. But
we’ve out stayed our welcome.” She took a deep breath and plastered on a fake
Excerpt 2
I was now pacing the bar area, worrying my bottom
lip between my teeth and clenching and unclenching my hands. That woman Belinda
said a gift would arrive in two hours and it was now almost eleven in the
morning. I had a bad feeling and didn’t know what I should do.
My head snapped up when the Prez left his office
and headed for the main doors, Rooster, Wiz, Henry and Drake all followed him
and it took me a moment to get my feet moving again, I hurried after them only
to be stopped by Denise.
 “No, you can’t go out there.” I was stunned
by what she was telling me and it took a moment to register.
 “I need to see what it is.” I went to step
past her and she blocked my path. “Denise.”
 “I’m sorry, no.” I went to dodge her again
when large hands clapped around my waist and lifted me off my feet. I looked
over my shoulder to see that Drum had picked me up and was carrying me into the
bar. He placed me on the sofa and Denise sat beside me.
 “Please just wait for Drake to come back in,
ok?” I nodded, not taking my eyes off the door.
 “It’s another woman, isn’t it?” I asked, taking
my eyes off the door to look at Denise and the answer was clear as day on her
face. Her face full of make-up couldn’t hide it from me.


About the
Kacey Hamford is a pen name for me (Kelly). I am in my
thirties and started this journey in 2014, I love to read romance books about
rockstars, so thought I would have a go at writing one myself. I really enjoyed
it and got a boost of confidence once my books started selling.
I have gone on to write a young adult series, set in a college.
The series is still on going.
I also have an MC series, it was something different for me to
write and I enjoyed it so much, especially when I got readers telling me they
would love to read books about the sub characters.
I work full time as a dog groomer, I love to read and my friends
and family are very important to me. They are all so supportive of my writing
career and encourage me to carry on.


Excerpt Reveal – Inarticulate – Eden Summers

Excerpt Reveal


Title: Inarticulate

Author: Eden Summers

Release Date: September 12, 2016


Could you handle his silence?


The next novel from bestselling author, Eden Summers,

is set to catch your breath. Inarticulate is a contemporary, standalone romance

novel and a read you won’t want to miss.


Add to Goodreads





He’s silent––but his

touch speaks louder than words.


At first sight, Savannah is drawn to the

harsh appeal of a man who refuses to talk to her. Keenan’s hard stare is

arrogant and unapologetic. The quirk of his sensuous lips is cocky and in



But there’s more. There’s something deeper

he’s trying to hide behind those steely grey eyes––a slight hint of

vulnerability which captures her intrigue.


She’d been warned, told that his silence

hides a myriad of lies capable of affecting her career and relationships with

loved ones. Only she can’t help herself. Testing Keenan’s defenses is an

addiction she can’t deny.


Falling in lust is easy. Learning his secrets

comes with a price. The cost? Her broken heart.





This is an excerpt

from Inarticulate (a standalone contemporary romance) when the two protagonists

first meet.


swung around to the house to hide her smile and bounced up the three stairs

toward the front door. Movement nudged her periphery and she slowed, taking in

the sight of a man standing in the shadows at the far end of the porch. His hip

was cocked against the bannister, his eyes hooded.


concentration latched on to him, unmoving as the world around her dulled to a

faint hum in her mind. She wasn’t sure what intrigued her. It could be his

narrowed stare, the way he didn’t greet her with warmth or kindness. Only

sterile appraisal. Or maybe it was the package his arrogance came in—the tense

expression, stubbled jaw, and lush lips pressed in a tight line.


tongue tingled. Mouth salivated. She would’ve liked to think it was due to the

heavenly aroma of her aunt’s cooking drifting in the air. Would’ve liked to…but

that was a load of bull.


She gave him a friendly finger wave as Dominic came up behind her.


man continued to stare, his face still unwelcoming in the shadows.


don’t be a prick.” Dominic tugged on her arm, stealing her attention. “Come on.

I’ll introduce you later.”


kept her focus on the stranger, their gazes entwined, hers soft and

inquisitive, his harsh and fierce, as her cousin dragged her inside, the door

slamming shut behind them. “Who was—”


my sweet Savannah!” Aunt Michelle hustled up the hall, wiping her hands on an

old apron tied around her waist. “It’s so good to see you.”


familiar face held more wrinkles than Savannah remembered, her aunt’s long

blonde hair now gray and thinning. But the beautiful blue eyes were still the

same—loving and gentle.


good to see you, too.” She ignored the strangers poking their heads into the

hall from different doorways and fell into a comforting embrace. “Thank you for

the dinner invitation.”


please,” her aunt chastised. “You don’t need an invitation. Come around any



was a whirlwind of introductions. Her aunt took position on her right, gushing

with affection and compliments, while Dominic remained on her left, muttering

snide comments that threatened to make her laugh.


timer dinged from the kitchen, a welcome reprieve as her aunt excused herself

and left Savannah to take a breath. There had to be twenty people crammed into

the small house. All of them smiling and friendly, unlike the man outside who

still lingered in her thoughts.


want a drink?” Dominic nudged her elbow.

Hell yes. “Please.”

She followed him to the back of the house, into the laundry, and toward a

fridge stocked full of beer, wine, and pre-mixed drinks.




held the door open while she grabbed a small bottle of something red and no

doubt comatosingly sweet. “Thanks.”


gonna hit the bathroom.” He closed the fridge door and looked at her in

concern. “Can you survive for a few minutes without me?”


guess I’ll have to. I’m not going to follow you to the toilet.”


he drawled. “You gave up that opportunity when we were eight.”



He chuckled and walked from the room, leaving her alone with the hovering

threat of chatter from the other end of the house.


was time to go incognito. She didn’t have the energy to smile at strangers.

Alcohol would help, but for now, she needed cool fresh air…and maybe another

glimpse at the menacing eyes of the man she’d met on the porch.


shoved the bottle into her coat pocket and sauntered down the hall, measuring

her steps to lessen the clap of her heels. She reached the front door without

notice and pulled it open, slipping into the darkness of twilight without a



man was still at the end of the porch, a beer bottle now visible in his hand as

he leaned over, resting his elbows on the bannister. He didn’t acknowledge her

presence. She supposed a man with arrogance ebbing off him in waves didn’t have

to. His dismissal gave her the opportunity to appreciate his ass stretched in

well-worn jeans and the perfection of how his black jacket rested at his hips

to give her an unhindered view.


she offered for a second time.


didn’t move, didn’t even spare her a glance as she approached the bannister. He

continued staring straight ahead as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and

took a long pull.


a lovely night for a family dinner.” Was he a distant relative? God, she hoped

not, otherwise Dominic’s inbred tendencies were rubbing off on her.


replied with a jut of his chin. A jut of his God. Damn. Chin.


an asshole. And wasn’t she just the stupidest set of ovaries to walk the earth,

because it only made her itch to push his blatant need for solitude, to poke at

him with questions until he acknowledged her with the respect she deserved. The

respect any human deserved.


you like beer…” she drawled, glib as hell.


corner of his mouth twitched as he continued to focus on the street. But still,

no answer.


could smell him, could practically taste his delicious aftershave on her tongue

with each inhalation. He was a taunt to all her senses…well, except her ears

because the pretentious ass wouldn’t say a word.


took another swig from his bottle and straightened to face her. She could see

his eyes now, the steely silver, almost blue, that made her shiver with their

ferocity. He was tall, too. At least an inch above her even with her heels.


pulled the pre-mix bottle from her jacket pocket and twisted the lid to keep

her hands busy. She could see two outcomes eventuating. Either he would smile,

knocking her off her feet with the brilliance of his appeal. Or he was going to

pull a gun from the inside of his jacket and blow her brains out.


or gangster. He could totally pull off both.


usually a wine drinker myself.” She raised the bottle of bubbly red liquid in

her hand, slowly tilting it to her mouth. She took a sip, licked the alcohol

from her lips in a deliberately seductive provocation, then lowered the bottle



he gave her nothing. Noth-ing. He was the most accomplished jerk she’d ever come

across, and yet she still couldn’t ditch the intrigue and walk away. Without a

word, he had her tied around his little finger, begging for attention.


like your jeans.” She ogled his crotch, wanting to return the discomfort of how

humiliating this one-sided conversation was becoming. “They’re snug.”


lips quirked, giving her a glimpse of straight white teeth. Asshole. Asshole.

Ass-hole! He was gorgeous, the faintest hint of humor turning his dangerous

eyes playful. She lifted the bottle to her mouth again, this time ignoring any

pretense of seduction as she gulped at the liquid.


you always this charm—”


front door creaked open and she turned to find Dominic eying them both

skeptically. “What’s going on?”


smiled, the biggest, fakest smile she had in her arsenal. “I’m having an

in-depth conversation with this lovely gentleman.”


Dominic frowned, his brows pulling deeper with every passing second.


There was gushing amounts of sarcasm in her tone. “First we conversed about our

drinking habits, then fashion. I was about to bring up the topic of politics

and world peace when you rudely interrupted.”


glanced at the man in the corner, an arrogant smirk now curving those sensuous

lips. He wasn’t the only one capable of being a jerk.


that’s strange…” Dominic came closer. “Because Keenan doesn’t talk.”



Sign Up for Eden Summers Monthly Newsletter and you’ll also receive a FREE copy of the first book in her

bestselling Reckless Beat series – Blind Attraction, for subscribing.




About the Author



 Eden Summers is a true blue Aussie,

living in regional New South Wales with her two energetic young boys and a

quick witted husband.


In late 2010, Eden’s romance obsession could no longer be sated by reading

alone, so she decided to give voice to the sexy men and sassy women in her



Eden can’t resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional

heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also

serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.


Stalk Eden



Excerpt Reveal – Dark Mafia Prince – Annika Martin


We are thrilled to share an excerpt of Dark Mafia Prince by New York Times bestselling author, Annika Martin! Releases on June 28th!




Don’t look at me like that. So trusting.

Like you think I’m not a monster.

Like I won’t wrap your hair in my fist and bend you to my will.

Like I won’t sacrifice you, piece by piece, to save my brother.

I’m the most dangerous enemy you’ll ever have because every time you look at me, you see somebody good. That friend who died.

And when you look at me like that, I die again.


I spent years making myself invisible.

A good girl, apart from the noise.
Then you came back, beautiful and deadly in your Armani suit.

Don’t look at me like you still know me, you say.

But I remember your smile and those sunny days.

Before they lowered your small casket into the ground.

Before they told us the prince was dead.


Exclusive iBooks Pre-Order

Kindle, Kobo, Nook, or google play: Sign up for an alert when Dark Mafia Prince is available: http://eepurl.com/b45Hsn



The way he uses me is violent. Primitive. Demeaning. And all I can think is, don’t stop.

He warned me he was going to be rough. He warned me I’d feel alarmed when he shoved his cock all the way down my throat. I was ready for that.

I wasn’t ready for the names he would call me.

Or to be so wildly turned on by it all.

It’s as if we crossed over to the right side of wrong, and everything is too hot, and his cock is too huge, and I have too many clothes. I want him to lay me out and use me. I want him to do anything to me. Everything to me.

I pull back, knowing he’ll shove my head back onto his cock, and he does, fingers digging into my scalp.

My nipples rub on his legs, heating—from the friction, maybe—and I nearly get off. It’s pure madness. Usually I need a lot of help.

But this is Aleksio being Aleksio. He always went too far, and I always loved him for it.

I feel when he’s going to come.

“No teeth. Don’t you fucking…” He jerks into my throat. The orgasm goes on forever. He holds my head firmly in his grip, panting.

I move my tongue a tiny bit and he clutches my hair. “God! Don’t move.”

I feel dazed. Heart pounding. This was the wildest and most powerful sexual experience of my life and I didn’t even come.

“Okay,” he whispers after a while, gently extracting himself from me. I sit on the coffee table, wiping my mouth and striking the tears from my cheeks.

His eyes shine, and I know he felt power of what just happened. The mad connection. Deep down, I know that neither of us have been here before. He reaches out and brushes my hair from my forehead.

That’s when I see the gun in his other hand, dark and cold and black.

He was holding a gun? Why? Why would he need a gun?

“Don’t worry, the safety was on.” He puts it aside, eyes averted, and then he swipes his phone off the floor. He presses something. A red light goes off.

My mouth falls open. “What the hell? What did you do?”

“Saved your finger.”

Red. A record light.

He tucks himself in, zips himself up.

He recorded us? Why record us like that? With him holding a gun? Why would he want to make it look like he was being a violent asshole, forcing me to do that?

Suddenly everything in the room gets too bright, too real. “No!” I go for the phone.

He grabs my wrist, hauling me up off the couch with him. “Leave it.”

“You’re going to show that recording to him? No!” I try to twist free. “You can’t!”

He can and he will.

I’m flooded with shame for how much I enjoyed it. And Aleksio made a movie out of it! To frighten Dad!

“Fuck!” I jerk and twist, trying to get at the phone. “You can’t! Please.”


“Oh my God!”

That’s when Viktor comes in. He regards us calmly, like it’s no big deal Aleksio is manhandling me. Aleksio tosses the phone to his brother. “Play it.”

“No! Don’t!”

Viktor taps the screen.

“Don’t watch it!” I go for Viktor now, but Aleksio has me.

“You can’t send Dad that clip.”

“We’re not sending him your bloody finger, isn’t that what you wanted?”

Aleksio. So cool, so smooth. Like it meant nothing to him. And me like an idiot, getting off on his rough treatment. Making myself vulnerable to him. Showing him something I never even showed myself. I want to die.

Viktor pockets the phone. “Her severed finger would be more extreme. More urgency. But this is more pain for the old man.”

“You guys are animals!”

Aleksio tightens hold on me. “You need to be done going crazy or we’ll handcuff and gag you.”

“You have to erase it!”

“You prefer the finger? That’s what you’re saying here?”

I trusted Aleksio. I followed him somewhere extreme, and he ripped my heart open. Cutting off my finger seems tame in comparison.

“You’re thinking about it? Fuck! No. Fuck that.” He turns to Viktor. “Call and see if the sack of shit’s awake.”



About the Author:

Annika Martin is a NYT bestselling author who enjoys writing dirty stories about dangerous criminals! She loves helping animals and kicking snow clumps off the bottom of cars around the streets of Minneapolis, and in her spare time she writes as the RITA award-winning author Carolyn Crane.

Connect with Annika:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Dirty quote newsletter

Excerpt Reveal – DoomsDay Love By Shanora Williams

Doomsday ER.jpg




Coming  June 16th


PRE-ORDER EXCLUSIVELY ON Itunes-: apple.co/1qfggib


Add to your Goodreads shelf now






AP new - synopsis.jpg


When we were ten, he treated me like a friend.

When we were eighteen, he wanted nothing to do with me.

And now that we are twenty-four, he longs to claim every single inch of me.


He was wild—untamed.

And I, a reckless girl, who loved too hard.

But, what we had was special.

I was his serenity and he my protector.


Drake was consumed by my love…

but he also took advantage of it…

He’d broken my heart—left me hanging for years.

He ruined us.


And, now, he’s back.

He wants me.

And I want to hate him, I really do.


But, who am I kidding?

No one can deny Drake Davenport.

You can’t hide from the almighty DOOMSDAY.


Because he is a fighter.

And, just like me, he loves hard.

He never loses and he will fight as hard is he can if it means winning me back.


AP new - excerpt.jpg


I rushed for my car, unlocking it with the key fob on the way. Before I could pull the door handle and get inside, I heard the crunching of gravel and then a hand came down on the window, slamming my door closed.

I gasped as the same hand wrapped round my arm and squeezed it with slight pressure. He whirled me around and pressed my back against the cold door.

Bold green eyes focused on mine, pink lips so close I felt my belly swirling with heat. His hands went outside my head, pressing on the car.

He smelled good, so good, sweet pine, sweet earth. His jaw was locked, hair on his forehead, breathing deeply through his nostrils.

“I’m trying to fucking save you from me, Jenny.”

“I don’t need you to save me from you.” My breathing accelerated with his.

“Why the hell do you need to be friends with a guy like me anyway?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t have to. I just… want to.”

Sighing, he brought one hand down, roughly running it over his face. He was aggravated with me, frustrated, but like me, he couldn’t let go. He hated being away.

“What is it that you want, huh?” he bit through clenched teeth. “What is it, Jenny? You want me to talk sweet to you? Is that it? You want me to tell you some bullshit about how I’m actually a good guy deep down, how I secretly wish to be with you too, but my life won’t allow it—our lives, wont allow it?”

His questions were rhetorical, but they spoke to me. There was truth behind them. He was opening up and he didn’t even realize it.

Suddenly, his face straightened, and he moved in closer, pressing his crotch into my belly. I stilled when his hands came to my face and he clasped it, keeping my eyes on his.

Breath shallow, I watched as his eyes narrowed. He studied me like a piece of artwork, like I was some intricate masterpiece that no one could figure out. The kind of masterpiece that is too beautiful to replicate—too unique to pass by without a thorough glance.

That same torment and confliction from the previous week ran deep in his eyes again. He hated this, but liked it just a tad bit more.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, Jenny.”

“What?” I finally spoke, my voice hardly a whisper.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? All of that shit I just said is exactly what you want.” He shook his head with a small huff. He still had my face in his large, rough hands. “    


Doomsday Love Teaser 2.jpg


AP new -about the author.jpg


Shanora Williams is a twenty-something that creates authentic romantic stories that, may or may not, make you question what a “Happily Ever After” truly is. After hitting the New York Times and USA Today bestsellers list at the mere age of nineteen, Shanora ventured further into the creative writing world, working even harder to create unique and memorable romances for all to enjoy.

She currently resides in Waxhaw, North Carolina and is the mother of one amazing boy, in love with her devoted man, and a sister to eleven.

When she isn’t writing, she’s spending time with her family, binge reading, or running marathons on Netflix while scarfing down anything sweet and salty. She also writes under the pen name S. Q. Williams.

Author Links

Web  Twitter  Facebook  Instagram Amazon Page Goodreads




Excerpt Reveal – My Sweet Isabella by Mia Villano

My Sweet Isabella by Mia Villano
Releases 3/29/16
My Sweet Isabella
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. My world was getting on the plane and leaving me alone. I loved her more than I loved anything. Words couldn’t express what I truly felt for her. She was beauty, passion, and indescribable love. My sweet Isabella made my life complete. 
    Watching her take the steps up to the jet tore at my heart. I wouldn’t see her again for fourteen days. Two weeks before I could make love to her. Two weeks before I could smell her, taste her, and look at her. She turned around and waved at me. I couldn’t describe what went through my body at that moment. I caught a glimpse of her ring I put on her finger the day before. The Cartier diamond that promised me she would be my wife and love me forever. Her wild hair I loved to feel against my body blew around her angelic face. Her bare, tanned legs that brought me to my knees, were flexed sending me to thoughts of them wrapped around my waist. I was tempted to run up the steps and go with her, back to the United States. I couldn’t do that because I still had work to do in Paris. 
    The night before she asked me about the threats on my life. A painful shot of guilt tore through me as I remembered that for the first time, I lied to her. I couldn’t tell her how bad the threats were. I didn’t want her to worry about me. She just dealt with Avery’s illness, the death of her ex-boyfriend, and making a career change; I couldn’t put her through more. When I looked into her eyes, they showed so much concern, so much hurt. I couldn’t add to the pain. No, I told her I was fine and everything was under control. I told her I was safe. I lied. I wasn’t safe. The threats were direct, and they were ominous. The terrorist group that I unraveled by killing their leader in a hostage rescue, was still vowing revenge. The threats had been ongoing for the past ten years. I didn’t think anything of it until I became the Ambassador, and that’s when the threats became more intimidating. Once I was in the public eye, this group made a point to single me out. The latest threat that came in was a video sent to my Paris office. They vowed revenge on me and anyone else that may have been with me that day when we rescued the hostages. They threatened to kill as many people as they could for what I had done. Was I afraid? This time, yes. This time, I felt something different. This time I feared the threats were real.and the action would be coming soon. I couldn’t tell Isabella. I let her go back home without knowing how much danger I could be in. 
    After I watched the plane takeoff, I turned around and headed back to my office. I had a lot of work ahead of me. I powered through the day with meetings and conference calls to the United States. There was a briefing on the threats against me,and there was a new recorded message that came in I needed to watch
     The last message was by someone in their group standing outside a barrack somewhere in a desert. All of the messages were verbal or emails, until I received this last one. This was the first actual video sent to the Paris Embassy.  Watching the recorded message on my phone with earbuds, I didn’t notice Gustan standing in the doorway of my office. Gustan was our Embassy speaker, the office manager, my sometimes bodyguard, and most importantly, my friend. We served together in the Special Ops, and he was with me the night we rescued the hostages. He was with me when the helicopter exploded and set my body ablaze. He didn’t leave me that night until we made it safely to a hospital. I won’t ever forget that he was there for me. I took my earbuds out and stood up to greet him. 
    He stretched out his arms. “So, did she say yes?” I had told Gustan I planned on asking Isabella to marry me when she came to Paris. I showed him the ring and told him what I planned on doing, having her entire family involved. 
    I smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. 
    I laughed as we embraced.  “Of course, she did. How could she refuse me?” 
     “I’m so happy for you both. Let’s celebrate. I’ll take you down to Le Chocolatier Coffee Shop. My treat.” 
     Gustan stood about six-foot five with a lot more muscle mass than me. He was big, burly, and quite intimidating. I felt safer with him around. He’d had my back several times in difficult situations, and I hope having him with me in Paris would be the same. I told him about the threats, and since then he has been with me as much as possible.
     “Sounds perfect, but you will buy me a chocolate croissant,” I laughed.
    “Only if you give me details on how she thanked you that night.”
    “Gustan, you know I won’t do that. A man never kisses and tells. However, you will still buy me that croissant.” I laughed at him as we headed down the hall to the elevators. I thought about how she thanked me. She thanked me all night and the next morning. Thinking about what we did made miss her all over again. 
    Le Chocolatier was one block away from our offices. The streets in Paris were busy with people going about their day, to lunch, shopping, and enjoying the beautiful weather. Not a cloud in the sky that afternoon and the temperature was perfect for a walk to my favorite place. Getting a coffee there every day was becoming a bad habit while I was in Paris. Sometimes, like today, I would sneak in a pastry. They made the best chocolate croissants in France. 
   Before we walked in, I looked inside and noticed the shop was busier than usual. For one in the afternoon, the place was full of people. I remembered that day was an out-of-school day, and Le Chocolatier was full of children and moms taking a break from shopping, or just in there for a coffee and some good conversation. Gustan held the door for me, and I walked in front of him and took a place in line. Every day, like clockwork, we headed to Le Chocolatier for an afternoon cup and some conversation about work. 
    I heard gun shots immediately after we walked in as I stood behind a mom and her small boy. My training told me to look for blood, and empty cartridges. I heard screaming and sawpeople fall to the floor. I noticed blood splattered everywhere. I spotted one of the gunmen out of the corner of my eye. He was firing at random people so quickly I didn’t have time to react. He wore a black mask and was shooting nonstop. Gustan was already on the other one. I lunged when a gunmen pointed the gun at the child’s head in front of me. In broken English he yelled, “This is because of you, Ambassador.”  Isabella crossed my mind at that moment as I instinctively lunged toward him. I felt an unbearable burning shoot through me. I heard her voice in my head. Flashes of Isabella raced through my mind. I was falling. My head hit something hard. There was screaming. More popping. The smell of blood was now strong in the air. Tears stung my eyes. Blackness enveloped me. 

Excerpt Reveal – Aced – K. Bromberg



Rylee and Colton’s ride continues…

One moment. Six years ago.

The night she made the world around me so much more than just a blur. Now it’s the catalyst that threatens to tear us apart.

Our happily was supposed to be ever after. So why do I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers?

How can one moment, when our world seemed so right, resurface and cause our perfect life to spiral out of control?

I can’t lose her.

She’s my checkered flag.


“Smoldering! Rylee and Colton’s romance continues burning up the pages in this steamy and exhilarating addition to the beloved Driven series!” – Katy Evans, Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author

Colton Donavan is back in ACED, January 11, 2016!

Aced - PreOrder

Now available for Pre-order!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1mIdFvf

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1J7I4gi

iBooks: http://apple.co/1hML059

B&N: http://bit.ly/1NqDlFf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1EkCboq

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1NX9mb5

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1OVtIjs



Just wanted to check and make sure you and Rylee were okay.Thank fuck he finally speaks, pulling me from the temptation to drown my problems away. I swivel so my back faces the kitchenand the bottlewhile I wait for him to say more, ask the questions I know are on his tongue. Yet Im

met with silence. Rolling my shoulders, I blow out a breath as I try to let in the one person who matters most when all I want to do is shut people out right now.

Im worried about her,I confess as I look out the window. Shes still curled up on the chaise lounge where shes been since Haddie left. The food next to her untouched. Its fucking killing me to not go out there and talk to her, but Im the reason shes hurting.

Im not going to let her pull away. Dont think she will. But she asked for space, and Im giving it to her. For now.

It takes a lot to catch me off guard, Dad,I say finally as my mind runs faster than I can say the thoughts, and this . . . fuck . . . this just blindsided us.

I dont want an explanation, son. Ive lived this life too long to know how people twist and manipulate things to hurt others. Im just calling to let you know were behind you. Im here if you need to talk and to make sure you take care of her.

She told me she trusted me to handle this, and now? Now, I dont even know what the fuck to say to her.

How about you start by using her name.

My knee-jerk reaction is to yell at him for the comment, but it dies on my lips when I click another link with the mouse and comments fill the screen.

Im sure my dad can hear the sound of my fist hitting the desk through the connection and yet he says nothing. The drywall calls to me. Its so much more tempting to hitsatisfyingbecause the destruction is there, visible, and yet helps fucking nothing.

Her name? Easier said than done, Dad. I brought her into my public world, pushed her, and now this is what she gets for loving me?

I bet she gets a whole lot more than that, Colton, or she wouldnt be with you.His words hang on the connection as I struggle whether or not to believe him. Is the more worth enough for her to stick with me through all of this?

His words repeat in my head.

I sure as fuck hope hes right. Everythings been too perfect as of late. Is this the other shoe dropping to put me back in my place and remind me how cruel fate can be?

Remember, son, marriage isnt about how madly

in love you are through the good times, but how committed you are to each other in the bad times.

And as cheesy as my dads advice sounds, I hear it. Hold on to it. And hope to fucking God its the truth because the shit has most definitely hit the fan.

She wont even speak to me.I chuckle in frustration and force myself to turn off the computer. If I see one more image I have a feeling the drywall will be too tempting to resist. Unclench your fists, Donavan. Shove down the urge to hit something.

I probably wouldnt want to speak to you right now either,he says.

About the Author:


New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

Shes a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, Aced (a new Rylee and Colton novel releasing 1/11/16), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Connect With Kristy