Hot Addiction by Lynn Raye Harris

Search the Blog

His Hand-Me-Down Countess by Sorcha Mowbray

Wednesday, September 20, 2017 0 comments

Today we are celebrating the release of HIS HAND-ME-DOWN COUNTESS, the first book in the Lustful Lords series by Sorcha Mowbray. This book is a historical romance title from Jack's House Publishing. Check out the links for the book below.

His Hand-Me-Down Countess (Lustful Lords, #1) by Sorcha Mowbray

NOW LIVE! 

PURCHASE IT NOW!

Kindle US | iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google

  Book Blurb:

His brother's untimely death leaves him with an Earldom and a fiancée. Too bad he wants neither of them... Theodora Lawton has no need of a husband. As an independent woman, she wants to own property, make investments and be the master of her destiny. Unfortunately, her father signed her life away in a marriage contract to the future Earl of Stonemere. But then the cad upped and died, leaving her fate in the hands of his brother, one of the renowned Lustful Lords. Achilles Denton, the Earl of Stonemere, is far more prepared to be a soldier than a peer. Deeply scarred by his last tour of duty, he knows he will never be a proper, upstanding pillar of the empire. Balanced on the edge of madness, he finds respite by keeping a tight rein on his life, both in and out of the bedroom. His brother’s death has left him with responsibilities he never wanted and isn’t prepared to handle in the respectable manner expected of a peer. Further complicating his new life is an unwanted fiancée who comes with his equally unwanted title. Saddled with a hand-me-down countess, he soon discovers the woman is a force unto herself. As he grapples with the burden of his new responsibilities, he discovers someone wants him dead. The question is, can he stay alive long enough to figure out who’s trying to kill him while he tries to tame his headstrong wife?    


EXCERPT:  

London, May 1860
Stone heard the butler intone his name and title loudly enough for all of London to hear, let alone the population of the Devonses’ ballroom. Had anyone suggested three years ago he would bear the family title, Earl of Stonemere, never mind be contemplating his future nuptials, he would certainly have laughed. True, he never actually laughed anymore, but he certainly would have found such a claim incredulous.
It was no longer an amusing matter.
Having survived the receiving line, he eased through the crowded ballroom. Every few feet, he stopped to speak with one acquaintance or another. Not so long ago, these same people would have been running for the hills and hiding their daughters. But fate, a fickle mistress to say the least, had other plans.
Moving with a quickness born of desperation, he barely acknowledged the next three men as the heat from the crowd paired with the stench of perfumes and body odor to choke him. After his service in India, crowded entertainments such as a ball had grown difficult to endure. The press of bodies and the loud murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional shrill laugh smothered him, too similar to the roar of battle and the cries of the dying.
Moving past a swarm of silk skirts, he spotted a dark, hidden alcove, an oasis from the overwhelming onslaught, both real and imagined. If he could shut it down quickly enough, he wouldn’t embarrass himself. If he failed, all of London would learn just how broken he was.
He was an earl. Not a soldier. Never again a soldier.
Once the cool darkness enveloped him, he opened his mouth and drew a breath. His pounding pulse eased as the vise around his chest released and his damp skin dried. After another quarter hour spent tucked away, he believed he could manage the crowd long enough to find his betrothed.
As any good officer would, he had a strategy. Find her, claim his dances, and then await each one either on the balcony or on the dance floor, if required. Even the cardrooms at these soirees bordered on disabling.
He reached for the drapes to his hideaway, but hesitated as two women tittered in the immediate vicinity.
“Why, Gladys, I heard his name announced earlier. I’m certain Matilda invited Stonemere despite all the gossip.”
“I simply cannot imagine what she was thinking,” the one called Gladys said.
“Can’t you? Having one of the Lustful Lords in attendance at your ball? I daresay everyone who is anyone will wish to be able to say they were here. It’s all so deliciously scandalous and yet possible now the unmitigated rake is off the market.” Gladys’s friend sighed with a bit more drama than anyone in their right mind or otherwise would deem necessary.
“Well, one should hope that man can contain himself what with all these poor young virgins parading around. It would serve Matilda right if he debauched each and every one of them while here under her auspices.”
“Oh, do be sensible, Gladys. He could perhaps ruin four or five in one night, but all of them?”
Past ready to find his fiancée and escape his hidey-hole, he stepped out next to the ladies in question, turned to them, and bowed over each of their hands. The shock on their faces far outweighed any notion of good manners on his part. “Why, ladies, you both give me far more credit than I deserve. Even in my heyday of debauchery, I could only service three ladies in a single evening.”
As the two ladies sputtered, he departed their corner. The temptation to turn and wink at the gossipers won out, which caused another round of tittering and sputtering from behind him. Of course, he was well aware of what proper Society called himself and his friends. But the Marquess of Flintshire, Earl of Brougham, Baron Lincolnshire, and Viscount Wolfington—as well as himself—held little regard for polite society. Each of them had learned the hard way that they had no place amongst their peers.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Sorcha Mowbray is a mild mannered office worker by day…okay, so she is actually a mouthy, opinionated, take charge kind of gal who bosses everyone around; but she definitely works in an office. At night she writes romance so hot she sets the sheets on fire! Just ask her slightly singed husband.
She is a longtime lover of historical romance, having grown up reading Johanna Lindsey and Judith McNaught. Then she discovered Thea Devine and Susan Johnson. Holy cow! Heroes and heroines could do THAT? From there, things devolved into trying her hand at writing a little smexy. Needless to say, she liked it and she hopes you do too!
For more information about Sorcha, please visit her website, “Like” Sorcha on Facebook and follow her on TwitterInstagram and Goodreads. Join Sorcha’s newsletter to be the first to hear about upcoming releases. She loves hearing from her readers. Email her directly at sorcha@sorchamowbray.com

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter | Goodreads

InkSlinger Blogger Final

The Queen by Skye Warren

Tuesday, September 19, 2017 0 comments

Title: The Queen
Series: The Masterpiece Duet #2
Author: Skye Warren
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 19, 2017



Blurb

I have one chance at a new life. A college education. A future outside of Tanglewood's dark walls. For a breathless moment it seems like I might actually escape.

Then I get a phone call from home.

Damon Scott is my own personal dragon, the fight I've always lost, the secret hope of my heart. And he needs my help right now. Only my mind can solve the puzzle. Only my presence can keep him sane as the city fights against him.

Only my heart can unlock a man with such a tragic past.

This is my final gamble, with everything at stake. One last game to win a future for both of us.

And a love strong enough to break the city apart.

THE QUEEN is the final novel in the bestselling Masterpiece duet, about a game of lies and loyalty, of betrayal and power, and ascension to the city's throne.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS





Trailer



Excerpt

I flinch, glad he can’t see me across two thousand miles. Even working in the kitchens most nights only covers my food, my textbooks. Not the tuition bill. “You’re the one who wanted him to work for you. You’re the one who made him the stake in our last game.”

“And you’re the one who lost,” he says lightly.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Of course. Like you said, he works for me. I would be a careless employer if I let my men go wandering off, gambling and racking up debt and questioning their loyalty to me.”

A shiver runs through me. “Then where is he?”

“He’s a grown-up, Penny. Like you are now. He’s responsible for himself. You only need to worry about your studies. I’m sure Algebraic Topology is taking up plenty of your focus.”

It’s one of my courses this semester. How does he know that?

“Stop playing with me.”

“Why should I?” he says with a soft laugh. “It’s so much fun.”

Frustration stings my eyes, hot and damp. I look up at the wide-open sky, willing myself not to cry. There are a million stars visible here, most of the land owned by Smith College or one of the other campuses. So much land, so much pride. There aren’t buildings climbing on top of other buildings, as if they might sink into the concrete ground if they don’t. There aren’t glass towers reaching to an endless black sky.

“I’m never coming back,” I say abruptly.

His laugh falls silent. “I know.”

“I hate it there. I hate Tanglewood and being powerless. And most of all I hate you.”

The last part is a lie, because I don’t hate him. I’m drawn to him; I’m repelled by him. It’s far too complex a relationship, an equation I’ve never been able to write. It makes me wonder if I’m lying about the other parts—if maybe some twisted part of me misses home.

If some twisted part of me misses being powerless, too.

“Ah, Penny,” he says, sounding infinitely weary. “I hate you too.”

The words shock me, but the hurt inside shocks me more. He shouldn’t be able to wound me. Three years away from home, growing up, growing strong. It should have been enough armor to protect against anything he could say to me. But the arrow sinks deep, proving that I’ll never be able to escape him.

“What did I do to you?” I ask, quiet, in a voice like I’m six years old again. Like I’m speaking to the wild boy I found by the lake, one I lured into my trailer like a wolf.

He answers the same way, a surly teenage boy, fierce and vulnerable at once. “You made me care. You made me want, when I needed to leave. You made me feel, when I would have preferred to die. You brought me back to life.”

And I condemned him to torture. That’s what happened when he sacrificed himself so that I could stay safe. Two children with so few choices. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t worry. I got my revenge, after all.”

My blood runs cold, almost subzero at the words. There’s only one person left in my sad little family. One person he could hurt. “Did you hurt him?”

“By giving him a job when he couldn’t hold one down? By paying him enough that his daughter could escape the city, could go to a fancy college instead of becoming a corner-store whore? Yes, I’ve been horrible to him. A monster.”

“Then why isn’t he answering his phone?”

In the pause I can picture him in a three-piece suit, reclining in one of his ridiculously expensive leather chairs. Some amber liquid in a crystal-cut glass. “Don’t come back,” he says, his voice grim. “You made it out of here. Let that be enough.”

A soft click ends the connection, leaving me bereft.

And more worried than before.


Something is happening in Tanglewood, something bad enough for my father not to call, something horrible enough that even Damon Scott has warned me away. I look up at the infinite stars, but they’re dimmer than before. The whole world muted. It wasn’t a new life that I found so far from home. It was a long dream, and now I’m painfully awake.




Also Available


FREE prequel novella!!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS



The Endgame Series


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS




 Author Bio

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat. 



 Author Links

Penthouse Player by Tara Leigh

Monday, September 18, 2017 0 comments
Title: Penthouse Player
Author: Tara Leigh
Release Date: September 5, 2017
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press, SWERVE
Series: Billionaire Bosses #1
Genres: Romance
Word Count: 80K
Format: Digital
ISBN: 9781250138507

Synopsis: 
Abandoned by her mother and spurned by her father, Reina St. James is tired of being treated like a dirty little secret. It wasn’t easy making her way into the high-risk, high-reward Wall Street world ruled by financial kings and trust fund tyrants. But now that she’s got a
stiletto-clad toe into one of the swankiest firms in Manhattan, Reina is determined to prove she’s more than just a pretty face hiding an ugly past.

For Tristan Xavier Bettencourt IV, escaping the shadow cast by generations of family fortune has been difficult, and success hasn’t come without sacrifice. Tristan has always put business before pleasure… Until Reina’s curved lips prove an invitation he can’t resist.

Walking away from their explosive night together won’t be easy, even if the heat between them might consume both of their careers. Will Reina and Tristan risk everything by betting on each other?

Buy Now:  Amazon US | B&N | Google | Kobo | eBooks.com

eBooks.com → http://bit.ly/2uiJwHI

PENTHOUSE PLAYER Excerpts
Copyright © 2017 Tara Leigh
Excerpt #1

My eyes skipped over a blonde in a red dress, and then quickly returned. I hadn’t realized I’d started walking towards her until a waiter nearly spilled my drink. She was gorgeous. And when she tipped her head back to laugh at something the man beside her said, I decided that word was entirely inadequate. Stunning was much more apt. Exquisitely stunning, actually. Her creamy skin was flawless. And she was tall. I looked down, or at least she appeared tall with the five-inch stilettos on her feet. When her open-mouthed laugh faded into a generous smile, her wide eyes met mine. If she’d been an investment, she would have been labeled high risk, high reward, with a warning—Don’t buy if you can’t afford to lose.

Her lips closed around the edge of the glass in her hands, our stare unbroken. Her eyes were the bright shade of freshly cut, well-tended grass. And after she took a sip, white wine by the looks of it, she didn’t look away. Her open appraisal was a lure, and I took the bait. She could have been a model on a billboard in Times Square, or in the GQ magazine I subscribed to but never had the time to read. I know I should’ve turned away. This girl was clearly trouble with capital T, something I needed as much as a hole in my head.

After doing well with the first fifty million I’d been able to raise, I was just about to open my fund up to new investors. I didn’t have any official commitments yet, but I had no doubt my fund was about to grow to at least $500 million. I had a lot to consider, and a ton of work to do. This was the most important time in my career and I couldn’t afford to fuck it up by becoming a lovesick fool over some girl, exquisitely stunning or not.

I stopped in my tracks, maybe ten feet away, although I couldn’t tear my eyes from her face. She was young. Maybe too young? But then she smiled again. And not just any smile. This one wasn’t polite, or friendly, or casual in any way. No, her smile was so bright it heated the drink in my hands and blinded me from seeing anyone else in the room. Her curved lips were an invitation I couldn’t resist. Even though I knew I should.

Excerpt #2
“Obviously, something needs to happen between us. Soon. Preferably tonight, actually.”
Endorphins ping-ponged through my body like the ball in an old-fashioned arcade game. I’d tried to deny the chemistry between us, then suggested we ignore it. But to hell with that. It just wasn’t possible. I found my voice. “Someplace with a bed, or a couch.” I shrugged. “At least a rug, maybe a table.”
Tristan chuckled, attempting to finger-comb his hair into place. “Last time I checked, my apartment had all four.”
“Good. We can’t be seen in public together. At least not outside of the office.”
“About that. Bettencourt has more than one hedge fund you can work on. I’ll set you up with another portfolio manager or have you assigned to marketing or research, whatever you want.”
I shook my head. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. “No. Please don’t. Your strategy is the one I feel most closely aligned with. I applied to Bettencourt, hoping I’d have the opportunity to work on the Millennial Fund. This doesn’t have to be an either/or situation.” Taking a breath, I debated whether or not I should even verbalize the thoughts racing through my mind. Spit it out, already. I forced words through my mouth in a rush. “Let’s just have sex tonight and get it out of our system. Then we can pretend it never happened and focus on work.”
An aristocratic eyebrow arched upwards. “You think that’s all going to take? One fuck and we won’t ever need to do it again?”
I grinned at Tristan’s outraged expression. He even wore indignation well. “Okay, fine. Maybe we’ll have to do it more than once. But I just started here, and I intend to come out on the other side of this internship with a job offer. And I want it because I’ve proved myself on the Bettencourt trading floor, not in you bedroom. No one can know about us.”
Tristan scowled. “Is there someone else? Maybe not a boyfriend, just a friends-with-benefits kind of thing? You seem pretty eager to keep us in the dark.”
It’s what I know. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Tristan tucked in his shirt, adjusted his sleeves. Skepticism darkened his eyes. “Casual sex, no strings attached. That’s what you want?”
“I’m not exactly the next Mrs. Bettencourt, Tristan. I highly doubt your socialite stepmother would approve of me.”
“Why?” Tristan seemed less than eager to take my words at face value. “Because you want to do more with your life than plan overpriced parties with bad food and watered-down drinks?”
I looked down, a blush coloring my cheeks. If he knew that even my own mother wouldn’t be seen in public with me, he would feel differently. “Something like that.”


Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card
About Tara Leigh:

Tara Leigh attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children and fur-baby, Pixie. 

Connect with Tara: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads 


Copyright © 2014 These Curves Talk
Template by These Paper Hearts