Spotlight: Liberation Origins by Wendy Lynn Clark

An empress who must marry for duty. A race pilot who breaks all the rules. Their forbidden passion could cost everything.

Emprezia is betrothed to one of the most powerful men in the Antiata conglomerate. Marrying him will bring her one step closer to the coveted Star Chamber seat -- and power over the deadly rivals threatening her family. Despite how close she is to securing their future, she can't deny the tug of her heart for the ones she had to leave behind.

Then she meets Kaolin.

As a no-name shuttle pilot and close friend of her fiance, he should be off limits. But the passion he evokes with his steady dark gaze and skillful hands cannot be denied. When her rivals strike, Kaolin is the one who protects her. Now she has to make a choice.

Choosing Kaolin will destroy her family. But not choosing him will destroy her very soul.

Buy Liberation Origins and read the thrilling origin story today!

Warning: Strong heat and language for mature readers only!

About the Author

Wendy Lynn Clark is from the vibrant green Pacific Northwest. She writes contemporary and science fiction romance with sexy heroes and undefeatable heroines, as well as sweeping epic fantasy and creative nonfiction. Her words are infused with wonders from her travels—teaching in Japan for three years, earning her MA in Brighton, and studying abroad in Greece. When she’s not hiking in the Cascade mountain range, she’s writing on her couch with a steaming cup of tea and her two snuggly calico cats.

Her books are a mix of soaring imagination, blockbuster action, and thrilling romance. They are recommended for anyone who enjoys a well-told story with a happy ending guaranteed.

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Spotlight: The Sexy One by Lauren Blakely

From NYT Bestselling author Lauren Blakely, comes a swoony new standalone romance… THE SEXY ONE!

Let me count the ways why falling into forbidden love is not my wisest move...
1. She works with me every single day.
Did I mention she's gorgeous, sweet, kind and smart?
2. She works in my home.
Playing with my five-year-old daughter. Teaching my little girl. Cooking for my princess. Which means...
3. She's the nanny.
And that makes her completely off-limits...But it doesn't stop me from wanting her. All of her.

The other nannies in this city don't call him the Sexy One for nothing. My boss, the amazingly wonderful single father to the girl I take care of every day is ridiculously hot, like movie star levels with those arms, and those eyes, and that body. Not to mention, the way he dotes on his little girl melts me all over. But what really makes my knees weak are the times when his gaze lingers on me. In secret. When no one else is around. 

I can't risk my job for a chance at something more...can I? But I don't know how to resist him much longer either...

With all the heat, heart and humor readers have come to expect, this newest standalone will make you laugh, swoon and feel like you're falling in love!

Excerpt

“I want to talk to you about the other day.” He sounds so serious.

All of a sudden, the weight of my mistake crashes down. “Are you firing me?” I blurt out.

His jaw drops. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and the wild anxieties consume me once more. “I love this job, and I love working with Hayden, and I didn’t mean to jeopardize it by . . .”

By making out with you? By touching you? By murmuring your name when you kissed me senseless in the cab, and would you please just do it again?

He steps closer. My stomach makes like a skydiver.

“You did not jeopardize a thing. I’m not firing you. I promise.” His blue eyes are locked to mine. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. And I hope I didn’t lose you, either. You’re so good at what you do, and I value your skills so much. You’re great with Hayden, and I don’t want to mess that up. I’m sorry for crossing the line.”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I crossed it, too.”

He licks his lips. “And I really appreciated you inviting me out with your friends. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to mess up your night. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

A grin threatens to take over my face because my heart soars. I thought he was turning me down. Instead, he was thinking of me. “You wouldn’t have messed it up.”

“I wouldn’t have?”

“No.” I latch onto Harper’s advice. Talk to him. “I wanted you there.”

My breath comes fast, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. We’re so near to each other—our words, our voices, our bodies. Everything in me reaches for him.

“I’m glad,” he whispers.

“And you don’t make me uncomfortable. I promise.”

He doesn’t say anything in response. Just nods. I press my teeth into my lips. My back is against the sink, and he’s standing so close I can smell him. The faint scent of his soap intoxicates me. He must have gone to the gym after work and taken a shower, and oh God, now I’m imagining him naked in the shower, soaping up his strong body. I go up in flames.

“What happened in the cab was”—he pauses, as if he’s searching for the right word—“crazy.” But the way he says it in a voice full of longing doesn’t sound like crazy-bad. It sounds like . . .

“Crazy-good,” I supply.

He nods. “So good,” he whispers, and inches closer.

“It was so good,” I echo, my voice breathy, full of this potent need for him.

He stares at me, his eyes brimming with heat. I exhale, and my lips part slightly. He’s looking at my mouth now, and I’m burning all over.

We collide.

His hands are in my hair, and his lips crush mine. My fingers race up his shirt and around his neck. I pull him against me, his strong, hard body aligned with mine. His erection presses against my belly, and the realization that he’s already hard thrills me. Sparks fly through me as I register how hard he is, and my God, I want him. I want to feel him slide into me, I want to take him deep into my body. I want him to know what he does to me, too—that I’m as turned on as he is, and I can’t stop kissing him.

His big hands curl around my head, and I moan into his mouth. I love how much bigger he is than I am—taller, broader, stronger. He meets every primal desire I have to be taken. I want this man to consume me. I want to be under him, I want to be pinned by him—I want the full weight of him moving over me.

His lips are demanding, coaxing out more and more kisses from me. More murmurs, more sighs. As I arch into him, he groans, rough and husky.

Then, he breaks the kiss.

“This is bad,” he says firmly, his breath coming heavily. But then, he’s not so certain at all. “Is this bad?”

“Yes,” I answer quickly. “It’s bad. But it’s so good.”

About the Author

Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that's full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With eleven New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than sixty times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire as well as standalone romantic comedies like BIG ROCK, MISTER O and WELL HUNG, which were instant New York Times Bestsellers. In the fall she'll release THE SEXY ONE, a swoony contemporary romance. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter at laurenblakely.com/newsletter.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter | Goodreads

Excerpt: The Right Kind of Guy by Kerri-Leigh Grady

Romance novelist Kelsey Spencer doesn’t believe in love, and she's tired of faking her way through happily ever afters. Determined to change things up, she heads to the Las Vegas Romance Lovers Convention. But somewhere between half-naked cover models and hot Navy SEALs, Kelsey’s plans derail...

Especially once she meets über-fan Jasmine Grant...and Jasmine’s über-hot alphahole brother, Aaron.

Buttoned-up Aaron Grant never thought he’d find himself at a romance convention, but here he is, trying to convince his impulsive sister not to marry a beefcake cover model. His only hope is to enlist the aid of the cynical (and sexy) romance writer his sister worships.

After a sweltering jaunt around Vegas, some strange conference hijinks, and one outrageous proposal, Kelsey and Aaron are left questioning everything they know about romance and love...and if falling in love might just be worth the gamble.

Excerpt

“Romance writers. You have a reputation for being into salacious details of others’ love lives. Another stereotype?”

“Yes!” She poked his arm. “You’ve been watching too much TV. Too much bad TV, at that.”

He cocked his head and studied her. “What else is wrong about the stereotype?”

The way his eyes swept over her, she knew exactly what he meant, and the flush racing up her neck decided to head south and warm the rest of her body. She grabbed another sip of her drink. “So tell me the salacious details of your love life, then.”

A very slow smile stretched his gorgeous lips. “A sad series of one-night stands.”

“You say that like the lack of commitment doesn’t appeal to you. But aren’t all rich boys players and scoundrels? You should be right in your element.”

“I hear romance authors know some new tricks, and I’ve been considering expanding into two- and three-night stands. Maybe I should find someone at this conference willing to teach a world-weary scoundrel.”

His voice melted over her, but she couldn’t make her tongue work to answer him. Her head swam, and she realized she might have overdone the drinks considering she hadn’t eaten much at lunch. She needed to slow down. Or maybe hydrate. She cleared her throat. “Do you have a tattoo?” she asked, signaling the bartender for water.

His eyebrows lifted. “Maybe. Do you?”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Aaron laughed, and Kelsey tried to turn away in protest, but she had to grab the bar through a wave of dizziness.

Aaron caught her by the shoulders, spun her to face him, and she rested her hands on his arms. The muscles under her palms were rock-hard and reassuring, not too big, but definitely not small. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I don’t know how I ended up feeling this way about your poor sister when I only met her like two hours ago, but…Jas seems like a really good person, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

“She is,” Aaron said.

“And maybe it doesn’t hurt that you have nice biceps.”

About the Author

Kerri-Leigh Grady loves to sink into happily-ever-after tales and blow-up-all-the-things tales, especially when her testosterone-loaded house has hit its monthly limit of athletic socks and slapstick. She holds an MFA from Seton Hill University and a BS in computer science, so she’s a kind of half-artsy, half-nerd ball of nervous twitching. She has an unnatural love of dark humor, gadgets, chickpeas, BJJ, terrible acrylic landscapes, half-assed jewelry, and planners (Hobonichi and TN, natch). When the zombie apocalypse happens, she’s likely to be patient zero. If you see her bite someone, grab your water and head for your bunker.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Excerpt: Mâtowak Woman Who Cries by Joylene Nowell Butler

A murder enveloped in pain and mystery...

When Canada's retired Minister of National Defense, Leland Warner, is murdered in his home, the case is handed to Corporal Danny Killian, an aboriginal man tortured by his wife's unsolved murder.

The suspect, 60-year-old Sally Warner, still grieves for the loss of her two sons, dead in a suicide/murder eighteen months earlier. Confused and damaged, she sees in Corporal Killian a friend sympathetic to her grief and suffering and wants more than anything to trust him.

Danny finds himself with a difficult choice—indict his prime suspect, the dead minister's horribly abused wife or find a way to protect her and risk demotion. Or worse, transfer away from the scene of his wife’s murder and the guilt that haunts him.

Excerpt

Chapter 3

Ryan leads the way down a long hallway to a large, high ceilinged room at the back of the house, directly across the courtyard from the kitchen. Two brown leather sofas face each other in front of the ceiling-high fireplace. The leather coffee table between them is four feet square. I hadn't seen Mrs. Warner sitting on the sofa from the kitchen because it was out of view of where I'd been standing. A blind spot. Ryan returns to the kitchen while I pause at the entrance into the room.

Mrs. Sally Warner is dressed in an expensive two-tone linen pantsuit of dark brown, the jacket trimmed at collar, waist, cuffs with satin stitch embroidery. Her matching slacks have the same trimming at the bottom of the legs. I don't normally care, but it's the type of suit Angie would have admired. She might even have carried it at the boutique shop she'd managed. She once asked me how much I thought a suit similar to this one would cost. I said, “Two hundred?” She smiled. “It retails for over two grand. Not too many men would have guessed correctly.”

I'd seen enough shoes in Angie's shop to recognize Mrs. Warner's as Italian, probably costing fifteen hundred. Angie called them pumps. When I asked why, she shrugged. Their colour matches the suit.

Mrs. Warner is intent on her fingers being fingerprinted. She sits with her back straight, ankles crossed. Her complexion's softly wrinkled. This isn't a woman who indulges with Botox. Her skin is fair with no heavy makeup. Her light blonde hair is styled nicely, and not in the usual granny-cut from the fifties. She looks like a proper politician's wife. Actually, she could pass for one herself. Composed, in control, privileged.

Sitting to her right is an Ident member. Pinscher, the first constable on the scene, stands at the front entrance to the room. He's watching me. Some of the colour has returned to his face. I cross the room towards him.

“When Mrs. Warner is ready, I want you to drive her to a hotel room downtown. Guard her door and make sure no one enters unless she recognizes them.”

He nods.

“You'll make sure she's safe?”

He stands at attention. He probably hopes this gesture is seen as a sign of respect, a way of fixing his earlier purse-mistake. “Yessir.”

I cross the room towards the vic's widow. “Pardon me, Mrs. Warner. My name is Corporal Danny Killian.”

The Ident member has a small fingerprint tablet open and is printing the fingers of Mrs. Warner's left hand. Mrs. Warner turns her gaze from what he's doing and looks up at me. She blinks infrequently, her gaze unfocused. Her right hand lies limp in her lap. No wedding rings. No earrings. No sweating around her hairline. Up close her complexion is grey, her breathing shallow.

About the Author

When Joylene's father died in 1983, she wrote her first full–length manuscript to channel her grief. The seven-year process left her hooked and she began Dead Witness within a few weeks of finishing Always Father's Child. Today Joylene is the author of three suspense novels: Dead Witness, Broken But Not Dead, and the steam-punk collaboration Break Time. While she'll admit being published didn't fix all the wrongs in her life, she wishes her parents had lived to see her success. Dead Witness was a finalist in the 2012 Global eBook Awards. Broken But Not Dead won the 2012 IPPY Silver Medal, and its sequel Mâtowak Woman Who Cries is due for release November 1, 2016.

Joylene lives with her husband and their two cats Marbles and Shasta on beautiful Cluculz Lake in central British Columbia. They spend their winters in Bucerias, Nayarit, Mexico.

For more on Joylene and her writing, visit her website and blog then connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and her Amazon Author Page.

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Excerpt: Where the Wind Whispers from Bethany-Kris & London Miller

There is death where the wind whispers.Left for dead by his own father on a snowy sidewalk, Kazimir Markovic finally understands what true betrayal really means, and just how far one will go to keep a secret. He only needs to survive, to make it home alive to his wife, and then everyone else will know what it means, too.

It will all come to an end …

Right back where it first started …

New York’s streets are bloodier than ever. 
No souls are safe in this war. 
The games are over.

From authors Bethany-Kris (Donati Bloodlines Trilogy) and London Miller(Den of Mercenaries) comes the final installment of Kaz and Violet’s journey in the Seasons of Betrayal series.

Excerpt

There was fear.

And then there was terror.

The two might have seemed similar, but they couldn’t have been more different.

Fear was the extra beats of a racing heart, the anxiety simmering below the surface, and the trembling hands hidden from view.

The terror was all-consuming. Debilitating. It wasn’t just a fast heartbeat, but the belief a heart would stop altogether. It wasn’t just anxiety thrumming through the nerves, but the inability to even speak through the emotion.

Terror was vomit in the throat.

White-knuckles.

Dry mouth.

Aching sobs.

Fear and terror were not the same.

Violet Gallucci had never considered the differences between the two until terror was staring her straight in the face and laughing.

First, it came as a phone call. A simple call that silenced the men milling around her house who her husband had left behind to watch her. Then it came as a hand grabbing her wrist hard enough to leave bruises as she was shoved into a car with a gruff, “We gotta go.”

Go where?

Why?

Violet’s questions, asked quietly from the backseat of someone’s SUV, had gone unanswered. She listened as more phone calls were made, and sharp, angry Russian was spewed between men.

She heard his name said.

A few times.

Kazimir.

Terror was being shuffled from one car to another without an explanation. It was someone’s coat being thrown over her head as she was pushed into another backseat with a quiet, “Keep her face hidden.”

She didn’t bother to ask questions after that, knowing good and damn well they wouldn’t be answered anyway.

Terror was streets whipping by in a blur and worried eyes watching her in a rearview mirror after she’d yanked the coat off her head. It was streetlights that seemed too bright in the middle of the night with the snow falling down in heavy flakes. It was pulling into the emergency parking lot and seeing cars already waiting.

A fleet of them.

Men leaning against the driver’s doors.

Gazes trained on their car as it slowed to a stop.

Like they knew …

Like they were already waiting.

But she didn’t know.

But above all else, more than all that had come before, terror was seeing Ruslan Markovic sitting on the floor of a trauma triage room, bloodstained and silent.

Violet just … stared.

At the blood on the man’s hands and his clothes. At the bloody shoe prints smeared across the tiled floor that spoke of rushed chaos. At the handprint on the curtain where someone had flung it open.

And the wheel marks …

Violet’s gaze followed those to where a janitor was just starting to clean them, the heady scent of bleach filling the hallway.

Someone said something—a question, she was sure—but she didn’t really hear it. She couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in her ears or the tightening of her lungs with every breath that seemed to be a little more painful than the last.

Ruslan finally looked up, but he stared past her to someone else. Bloody fingers lifted high to his throat, slashing back and forth without even saying a word.

It took a while, more questions and silence, before sound began to bleed through Violet’s overworked senses.

Throat.

Cut.

Bled out.

Touch and go.

But worst of all was the I don’t know’s.

She’d heard the question that came before that answer, but she really didn’t want to.

Is Kaz alive?

“I don’t know.”

About the Authors

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

Connect: Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest 

With a degree in Creative Writing, London Miller has turned pen to paper, creating riveting fictional worlds where the bad guys are sometimes the good guys. Her debut novel, In the Beginning, is the first in the Volkov Bratva Series. She currently resides in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and two puppies, where she drinks far too much Sprite, and spends her nights writing.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads 

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Spotlight: Tell Me Again by Michelle Major

As a teenager, Samantha Carlton used a career in modeling to break free from her painful childhood—walking away from her reckless twin sister, an alcoholic mother, and the boy she loved. Yet she never outran the guilt of abandoning her family. When the past shows up on her doorstep in the form of her late sister’s daughter, Sam opens her home and her heart to the girl she never knew existed. But it’s not so easy to face the man she left behind…

Sam had shattered Trevor Kincaid’s heart, and he’d sought comfort in her sister’s arms. But he’d pledged to shield his daughter, Grace, from the drama that followed the Carlton women. Now Grace has tracked down Sam, and Trevor is forced to deal with the one woman he wanted to forget.

History has a way of repeating itself, and the sparks between Sam and Trevor reignite an old flame. But as much as Sam wants a new future, is walking away again easier than risking her heart for a second chance at love?

Excerpt

"I need to help you. I need to make it better so we're even."

"Even?"

She nodded. "I can't owe you."

"You don't owe me."

"We have a working relationship I can handle," she said, dropping the towel to her desk and pressing the ice pack between her fingers. She welcomed the burn of the cold against her fingertips. "Then you go and play the hero."

He laughed again. "I'm not a hero."

"That's not how I remember it," she murmured, focusing her gaze on his shirt collar when it became too difficult to meet his eyes.

"What sort of working relationship do we have when you pretend I don't exist any time I'm here without Grace?"

"The kind that doesn't make me crazy."

"Is that how you treat a hero?"

She laughed despite herself. "It is when I'm pretending you don't exist because I want to rip off all your clothes and plaster myself to you every time we're together."

He raised one brow. "That doesn't sound quite right to me."

Embarrassment washed through her, but Trevor stepped into her space, crowding her, when she would have turned away.

"A better idea would be if we both had our clothes off." He traced one finger along the skin above the collar of her baggy t-shirt. "What's fair is fair."

She bit down on her lip and ignored the sparks of desire that skimmed along every single one of her nerve endings. "It was actually a bad idea. Forget I said anything."

"Fat chance," he whispered and brushed his lips across hers.

It only took a second for the kiss to ignite into something hot and hungry. Even though it was the worst idea in the world, Sam lost herself in the feel of him. He tugged her closer, lifting her into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his lean hips. He tasted the same as he had years ago, like mint and memories. He was the innocence she'd lost and everything she once longed for.

He kissed her like she was his whole world. It had been forever since she'd felt anything so perfect. His fingers tugged on the hair tie holding her bun in place and then his hands sifted through her hair. His mouth felt like it was everywhere at once--on her lips, her jaw, the sensitive spot just behind her ear that no other man had taken the time to discover.

About Michelle Major

Michelle Major grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in Journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com.

Connect with Michelle: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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