06 October 2015

Tuesday Teaser: EMERALDS, K.A. Linde

#Emeralds is coming #Nov16th #TrihnsStory  #AStormIsBrewing  #IsWalkingAwayEasy #AllThatGlitters @authorkalinde

Author KA Linde is also giving away a $10 gift card on her Facebook page! Go there to enter!

Also, don't forget to add EMERALDS to your Goodreads account!

05 October 2015

Cover Reveal: EMERALDS, K.A. Linde

Check out the GORGEOUS cover for K.A. Linde's next book in the All that Glitters Series - EMERALDS! This is Trihn's book releasing on November 16th. You can pre-order below and there is also a chance to win an eARC copy of this book below! And don't forget to check out a sneak peek too! Enjoy!!!!

emeralds ebook


Walking away from him was easy.

The first time at least.

Then he shows up late one night at Trihn’s ballet company, and all bets are off. Trihn knows that she should be careful. But when it comes to Preston Whitehall, she throws all her carefully constructed reasons for not dating out the window.

He’s cunning, charming, and hot as sin. And he knows exactly how to use those qualities to get what he wants. Soon, Trihn is dragged deeper and deeper into his rapidly intensifying whirlwind.

But where a storm is brewing…destruction and devastation follow.

Find out how Trihn goes from prodigy to party girl in this sexy full-length prequel to Platinum in the USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde's All That Glitters series.

Release Date: November 16, 2015

Cover designed by: Okay Creations


Trihn sighed and sank back into her seat just as the first ballerina floated on stage. As she reveled in the performance, Preston ran his hand up her arm and to her shoulder, sending shivers down her spine. She glanced over and him and he had this dirty smirk on his face. He wasn’t even watching the ballet. His eyes were solely trained on her.

She swallowed and stared back at the ballet in front of her, but her attention was torn. His fingers brushed her long tresses off her neck. The palm of his hand pushed flat against her skin and up into hair. He pulled it gently, and as her head dipped backward, her eyes closed of their own accord.

With his other hand, he laced their fingers together, bringing her hand to his lips. He tenderly kissed each knuckle before drawing her thumb gently between his teeth. She inhaled deeply.

He seemed to be enjoying himself as he kneaded the muscles in her neck. He leaned forward toward her and planted a soft kiss on the sensitive skin.

“Keep your eyes open. You don’t want to miss a second of this,” he breathed softly.

Dear God! He was teasing her. This was sweet blissful torture.

She could hardly concentrate. Keeping up with two things at once, when one was tempting her with everything she wanted, was harder than it seemed. She was glad that as the ballet drew to a close that she had seen it before or else she would have been entirely lost to what was happening much of the performance.

His touch was captivating, and she found she was a lost cause when it came to this man. She hadn’t just forgotten the ballet that was in front of her face; the world had disappeared all around her. In a sea of people, there was just him.

The curtain dropped unexpectedly, bright lights flooded the auditorium, and Trihn jolted upright. Preston sat up straight as if he hadn’t just been working her into a frenzy with the lightest touches imaginable. The smirk on his face was the only indication that anything was amiss.

As the curtain was raised and the dancers began to take their bows, Trihn rose on shaky legs to give the ballet that she couldn’t remember a standing ovation. Preston stood by her side, applauding. They clapped until everyone left the stage and people started filing out.

She exited into the aisle, and Preston grabbed her hand again.

“Hey, we’re not done,” he said. The words were suggestive and were accented by his hand squeezing around her waist.

“Oh?” she managed to get out.

“Come on. I think you’ll like this surprise better.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Because I like to finish the things that I start.”


USA Today bestselling author K.A. Linde has written the Avoiding series and the Record series as well as the new adult novels Following Me and Take Me for Granted. She grew up as a military brat traveling the United States and Australia. While studying political science and philosophy at the University of Georgia, she founded the Georgia Dance Team, which she still coaches. Post-graduation, she served as the campus campaign director for the 2012 presidential campaign at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. lives in Athens, Georgia, with her husband and two puppies, Riker and Lucy.

*Gold is on SALE for a week for $.99!*
Pre-Order Emeralds

emeralds jacket


Name:  The Ground Rules Rewritten

Author;  Roya Carmen

Publication Date:  October 20, 2015

Genre: Erotic Romantic Contemporary

Series:  This is book two of a series



Five simple rules. And it was very simple…until it wasn’t.

It could have been much worse. We weren’t thinking straight and had put everything on the line – risking our marriages. So when Weston ended the arrangement, it was for the best – for all of us. But I was still heartbroken. I thought I’d shatter into a million pieces. I didn’t, I survived. Not only did I survive, I came out stronger and ready to move on with my life.

But then…

Weston reaches out to me. With a few soft words, a gentle touch and a lingering gaze, he crumbles all my efforts.

Neither Gabe nor I want to start this again, and we are determined to fight the temptation. But Weston and Bridget are not taking no for an answer, and the pull between all of us is still so strong.

I tell myself I can handle it this time. This time, I am in the driver’s seat. This time, I am rewriting the ground rules.


“The things I would do to you,” he whispers.
My breath hitches. Butterflies skitter across my belly, so swiftly it stuns me.
Damn you, Weston.
I turn to him. Suddenly there’s just the two of us. “Tell me.”
He smiles a wicked smile. “I’ll tell you,” he starts, his words impossibly slow, “the PG version. I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re surrounded by children,” he adds with a wink.
I smile up at him. “Sure. Tell me.” I want him to tell me all the exquisite details. If I can’t live it, I want to at least imagine it.
“Well,” he starts, a wicked grin plastered on his face. “First, I would take you to my room.”
I am all ears, glued to him.
“My room is quite nice. There’s a very charming old washroom.”
“Me too. Me too,” I blurt out. “It’s so cute.’
“Yes, well, as I was saying, I would take you to my room and draw you a bath. There’s a tempting claw-footed tub you would appreciate.” I close my eyes, imagining it. “I would pour in some of that nice bubble bath,” he goes on.
“Oh, it smells so good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does,” he says with a smile. “You keep interrupting me, Mirella.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Go on. I really want to know what you’d do to me,” I add in hushed tones.
“I would pull you to me, sweep my hands across your torso, peel your t-shirt off.”
I listen intently, no more interruptions.
He buries his hands in his pockets, a playful smile plastered on his face. He’s having fun. “I would twirl you around and kiss the back of your neck softly as I undid your bra. I would bring my mouth to the inside of your wrist and lick the soft skin there.”
I smile and close my eyes for a second, anticipating more.
“Then I would slide my hands down your hips and peel your jeans off,” he adds, his words soft. He’s not touching me, but his words do things to me.
“I’m naked now, aren’t I?”
“Yes. And in the bath you go.”
“Do you join me?” I ask playfully.
“No. I can’t. This is PG, remember?”
He grins. His smile is deliciously huge and wicked. And for a second, I hope no one is watching us. And I decide I don’t really care if they are.
“Once you got out of the bath, I would wrap you in one of those big fluffy bathrobes. And kiss you. My tongue would tease yours, but just for just a split second. You’d want more, of course, but I couldn’t give you more, because, like I said, this is PG.”
I laugh, completely caught up in him.
God, I am so into him.
“Then you would close your eyes, and I would kiss each one of your eyelids softly. Then I would kiss the freckle in the middle of your nose. The one I love.”
The butterflies in my stomach are flying in a frenzy now. “Then what?”
He smiles again. “Then I would tuck you into bed, nice and cozy, and put on a movie for you.”
“Ugh, but I don’t want a movie,” I almost scream. “You know what I want,” I tell him, a sly grin on my face.
He laughs. “Sorry. Like I said…PG.”
I smile up at him again. “I really want to punch you right now.”
He laughs again, that contagious laugh.
I take a deep breath.
And I know I’m getting too caught up in him again.
But I just can’t help myself.



Romance writer, mom, book junkie. I have been writing for over ten years, finding my passion for romance in 2008. When I'm not spending time with my family, I enjoy reading, painting, and of course, writing - there is nothing I enjoy more than sitting down at my laptop and making up my own stories - and if those stories should include beautiful men, a little romance, and a few steamy scenes, all the better!

04 August 2015

Blog Tour: Ruthless, Michelle St. James

It’s release day for Ruthless by Michelle St. James. We’re so excited for this sexy mafia romance! Michelle is sharing an excerpt and a fantastic giveaway so be sure to check out all the festivities! 

(My Review will be up soon! So come back! Make sure you read to bottom, awesome giveaway!!!-Laura)

About Ruthless:

front_6ix9i_RGB_300dpiTwo years out of college, Angelica Bondesan spends her time working as a barista, keeping in touch with her prodigal brother, and trying to figure out how to bridge the gap with her father, a wealthy real estate developer.

But all of that changes the night she’s kidnapped. Thrown into a windowless room, Angelica is positive there’s been some kind of mistake —until she meets Nico Vitale.

Gorgeous and frightening, Nico became the boss of New York City’s Vitale crime family after the execution style murder of his parents two years earlier. Since then he’s turned the old-school mob into a sleek, modern army of ruthless men who understand that physical violence —while always an option —isn’t the only way to get what you want.

Now Angel is forced to face the truth;

Her father is not the man she believed him to be.

Nico Vitale is dangerous, possibly lethal.

She is falling in love with Nico Vitale.


"From page one you're hooked and sucked into this corrupt thrilling world. A masterful romance of deep dark suspense, complicated emotions, and exciting action." - New York Times bestseller, M.J. Rose


Barnes and Noble

Exclusive Excerpt

Nico Vitale was kneeling in one of the pews at St. Monica’s, praying for his mother and father. They’d been gone two years, but the pain of losing them still lingered. He had only been twenty-eight when they’d been killed, and he’d expected to have them for many more years, to give them the daughter-in-law and grandchildren they had wanted.

Their future had been stolen. From all of them.

He forced down the fury that had become all too familiar. Anger was good. Productive. It’s what drove him to seek justice, to right the wrong perpetrated against his family, against the honor code that had survived decades under the rule of some of history’s most violent men.

But this wasn’t the place for anger. This was the place for peace. Repentance. He took a deep breath and tired to calm himself.

His mother had always gone to St. Patrick’s, but Nico made a point of moving around the city, sitting in any church with an open door. He liked the anonymity of it. Liked knowing that no one would know him or remember his parents.

His faith was only a shadow of the belief that had sustained them. Nico didn’t believe in the edicts of the Church. It had been organized by man to benefit man. He worshipped his own god, and his god didn’t turn the other cheek. He might forgive, but that forgiveness didn’t preclude a punishment justly earned. Still, he liked to sit in silence and remember, to send love to his parents, wherever they were, and to stand on the side of any god who believed in vengeance.

He was reciting the Lord’s Prayer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He instinctively shook off the hand. When he turned to see who had interrupted him, he was even less pleased.

“What is it, Dante?”He forced his voice even as he took in the leather jacket and jeans worn by the man in front of him. A dress code was part of Nico’s organizational reboot, but keeping cool was a point of pride, part of his mission to remake his father’s business for the twenty-first century. And having a reputation for being calm only made him more formidable when the situation called for his wrath.

Dante shifted in his seat, his face flushed, eyes feverish with excitement. “We got her,”he said. “We got the girl.”

Nico looked around before tipping his head at the church’s massive double doors. “Not here.”

Dante stood, hurrying down the aisle. Nico followed slowly, letting the peace of the church wash over him as he made his way out the door.

He took his time following Dante down the steps of the church. When they reached the sidewalk, they stepped back to stand near an adjacent building.

“Any trouble?”Nico asked.

Dante shook his head. “She didn’t see it coming.”

Nico didn’t like the note of excitement in Dante’s voice. Nico’s father had ingrained old-fashioned chivalry in his bones, and Nico never sanctioned hurting women. These kinds of things were a necessary part of doing business, not something he enjoyed.

“You didn’t hurt her.”It wasn’t a question.

Dante sighed, and Nico caught a hint of annoyance in the other man’s face before he could hide it. “We did it just like you said. Knocked her out, put her in the van, took her to the basement. She’s fine.”

Nico nodded. “Good. Make sure she’s comfortable.”

“Comfortable?”Dante’s laugh was bitter. “Why do we care if that bitch is comfortable?”

Nico clamped a hand on Dante’s shoulder and squeezed until he flinched. “We don’t call women bitches in this organization. Ever. Understand?”

Dante nodded, his eyes lit with the fire of indignation.

“Good.”Nico released his grip. “Now go make the pick-up.”

“Will do.”Dante rolled his shoulders, like doing so would free him of Nico’s grip when they both knew only death or dishonor would do that. “Want a ride back to the office?”

“No.”He didn’t owe Dante an explanation.

Dante nodded and headed for the car double parked at the curb. Nico watched him get in and drive away. He waited for the car to disappear into traffic before he started walking.

Dante was a problem. Nico understood it, but he was still trying to settle on a strategy for dealing with it. He knew Dante resented him. That Dante believed his father, Gabriel Santoro, should have been Underboss to Nico’s father before his death. If that had been the case, Dante’s father would be Boss now, and Dante himself would be the crown prince of the New York territory.

Instead, a year before his death Nico’s father had inexplicably turned to Nico, pleading with him to step in as Underboss. Only twenty-seven at the time, Nico wasn’t ready to take on the mantel of responsibility held by his father. He didn’t even believe in the mob. Not the way it was then; stealing and killing and raping in the name of money. In the name of power.

But his father had been unsettled. Even Nico, as young and wrapped up in himself as he’d been at the time, could see that. And his father -- his family -- meant everything to him. So he’d gotten his act together and joined the business, learning it from the inside out. He was just beginning to feel like he had a handle on the basic operations when his parents were murdered, execution style, outside the restaurant where they’d met over three decades ago. They had been celebrating their thirty-second anniversary.

Nico had spent the two years since remaking his father’s legacy. Raneiro Donati, head of the Syndicate that acted as governing body to criminal organizations all over the world, had stepped in as a mentor and father figure, guiding Nico through the early stages of grief and the rage that threatened to undo him. Gradually, Nico had found a focus for his fury, and he’d poured every ounce of his energy into targeting that focus and reimagining his father’s legacy.

Some of Nico’s soldiers embraced the change. Others, like Dante, clung to the old ways. Nico understood, but the reorganization wasn’t optional. They would comply or they would be gone.

Nico didn’t like taking the girl. A decade ago, something like that would be off the table, a blatant breaking of rules that had been in place since before the Syndicate formally existed. But nothing could be rebuilt without first dismantling the rotting foundation of what had come before.

And unfortunately, the girl was part of that foundation.

He checked for traffic on 2nd Avenue and crossed just before a taxi barreled through the intersection. He felt liberated by his time at the church. Lighter on his feet. Maybe he would call one of the women who acted as a physical companion when he felt the urge.

After all, he wasn’t a saint.

Michelle St. James Bio:

Michelle Zink
Michelle St. James aka Michelle Zink is the author of seven published books and six novellas. Her first series, Prophecy of the Sisters (YA), was one of Booklist's Top Ten Debut novels. Her work has also been an Indie Next selection and has appeared on prestigious lists such as the Lonestar List, New York Public Library's Stuff for the Teen Age, and Chicago Public Library's Best of the Best. Her character, Alice, won the Teen Read Awards for Best Villain against Harry Potter's Lord Voldemort.

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