Sin & Covet (Beautiful Sinners Series) by Elena M. Reyes

Titles: Sin & Covet

Series: Beautiful Sinners Series

Author: Elena M. Reyes

Genre: New Adult/Romantic Suspense

Cover Design: T.E. Black

I am both heaven and hell. Sin and pleasure.

The Devil she never sees coming…

Everyone knows that Malcolm Asher owns Chicago. Nothing—not a single move is made in my city without my authorization. I’m ruthless. Conniving. Worshipped by those around me, and yet, it means nothing the moment my eyes meet hers…

Clear blue and innocent, the delicate doll on this stage holds me captive against my will. She’s decadence personified—a corruptible angel I want to own.

I’m hard for her.

Starving for a taste.

Eager for her to feel me.

This little girl has no idea of the danger she’s in within my presence. How I will make her crave the darkness I control.

How I will make her…Mine.

I'm a sinner. A criminal.

The beast that will never let her go...

Everyone in England knows the name Casper Jameson. They know that I'm a cruel bastard with no regrets when it comes to dealing with those that cross me. They fear me; a man with no morals. Someone cold—without a weakness.

Until I see her...

She's beautiful; a delicious temptation standing across the room from me without a care. Unaware of the danger that lurks—that this man wants to consume her.

I’m going to own her every sigh.

Taste her every moan.

Drown in her pleasure.

Let the bloody chase begin.

(The Beautiful Sinner Series are all interconnected standalones full of suspense and romance and an OTT alpha willing to burn the world to the ground for the woman he loves! It's sexy and has an edge of darkness that will leave you breathless!⁣)

Elena M. Reyes is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would.

As a small child, she was always intrigued by all forms of art: whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure, but it wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She's a short and sassy Latina with an adorable pup, a kiddo that keeps her on her toes, and a husband who claims she'll cause him to go bald prematurely. Lol

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Acts of Salvation (Men of Wrath, #2) by Eleanor Aldrick

Acts of Salvation
Eleanor Aldrick
(Men of WRATH, #2)
Publication date: September 22nd 2020
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Ren Moretti

I’ve lived my entire life to the beat of one simple motto.

Work hard to play hard.

A no brainer, really.

As one of five partners to a nationwide security firm, I do whatever it takes to get the job done, making sure to reward myself with whatever the hell I want.

Sure, the job comes with its own set of dangers—but none of the bullets or knives come close to the peril of one alluring young woman.

Casandra Martinez—my little angel—is a risk all on her own.

Turning my world from black and white to vibrant; she’s a sensory overload and far from simple.

But the biggest problem is far worse than just a kink in my routine.

No. She’s off limits. Forbidden.

Unwilling to heed the warning, I’m drawn to her light.

And like a moth to the flame, I fall.

Only one question remains…

Will her love be my salvation or my demise?

Dear reader,

Acts of Salvation is book two in the Men of WRATH series but could be read as a Standalone. WARNING (OR INVITATION): AOS contains mature language and gasp-worthy scenes.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

Author Bio:

Writing about yourself is hard. Writing about yourself in the third person is even harder.

Instead of giving myself all kinds of accolades and touting my writing prowess (or lack thereof), I’ll just share some of the bits that make me who I am. Sound good? Good.

Reading has always been a big part of my life. Growing up, my mother would walk into my room well into the wee hours of the morning only to have to tell me to put my books away and sleep.

If you're a bibliophile like me, I’m sure you can relate.

I never stopped reading nor did my love for it diminish. As time passed, my reading tastes evolved and I found myself devouring romance novels left and right (find me on Goodreads). So naturally, when I found myself unfulfilled with my learned profession, I turned to writing the books I loved to read.

It started as a hobby but with my husband's encouragement, it grew into what it is today, the start of my new, and very much loved career.

I hope that my story serves as an inspiration and that regardless of where you are in life, you are able to follow your dreams and give yourself your very own happily ever after.

With Love,
Eleanor Aldrick

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Rogue (Deadliest Lies, #1) by Michele Mannon

Title: Rogue

Series: Deadliest Lies #1

Author: Michele Mannon

Genre: New Adult Romantic Suspense

 Release Date: August 6, 2020

Blurb

When I first laid eyes on him, I should have run the other way.

Trouble was written all over him, from the confident swagger in his stride and seductive curl of his lips, to his smug, knowing looks. Jaxson was irresistible . . .and I fell hard. 

Then he was killed. 

Now the ruthless, unforgiving boss of an underworld organization thinks I did it.  

I’ve gone rogue, hell-bent on both revenge and redemption. Whatever it takes, I'm going to finish a job that began nine months ago. An unauthorized assignment that turned horribly, devastatingly wrong. My miscalculation. My fault. My heart left shattered into incomplete pieces which will never wholly fit back together again. 

But first I have to outsmart the hired killer they've sent after me; a killer who knows my every move, who’s been inside my head, who owns my heart. 

I'm the traitor, Kylie. The rogue mercenary. His newest assignment.  

And this is our love story. 

*Rogue was previously released by St. Martin's Press. This edition has been updated and revised.*

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Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

Kylie - Shelby, Oklahoma

I hit the roadway, running hard and headed toward the far side of town.

Clouds roll in. Figures I left our house filled with determination only to trek back home wet and weary. Beyond weary. Tired. So bleeding tired of fighting battles no twenty-three-year-old should ever face. But these are the cards I’ve been dealt.

I’m so preoccupied with the downpour of troubles that seem to accompany the downpour of rain, I ignore the black sedan and the gravel it’s kicked up as it passes by me. Dismiss the red glare of its taillights, faintly visible through the rain. Pay no heed to how the sedan is backing up as quickly as it’d sped by me.

Too late, I stop and gesture wildly at them to continue on.

Then everything but the rain seems to pause. 

The blond hairs on my arms stand at attention. It’s like being swept into a cloud of darkness, where for a split second everything is calm before all hell breaks loose. But I’m a native Oklahoman, where tornados crop up like spring daffodils. Where quick thinking and survival know-how are the name of the game.

I take off running back toward town, then pivoting on my heels, burst into a withering wheat field bordering the road.

Stalks swat my face. Mud covers my sneakers and splashes up my legs. My mind spurs on my tired body. “Faster. Go faster.” I slip and slide but am abruptly grabbed by the waistline and hauled up off my feet. 

Gritting my teeth, I send my right elbow and left heel backward. Both connect hard, into my captor’s jaw and junk trunk. 

He drops me. “You goddamn bitch,” I hear, but faintly. My legs are already in motion.

A different man grasps onto my arm. I turn and, using the momentum from my spin, aim the heel of my palm up into the tender flesh beneath his nose. 

Blood spurts out of it like a lawn sprinkler. I’ve broken the second guy’s nose and ruined his faded white T-shirt. Before he can grab me, I dash into the thickest, healthiest crop of stalks, which better conceals me. 

But it slows my progress. My sense of direction is distorted. If it’d been a clear night, the stars would guide me to safety. Today’s nothing except another miserable Shelby day. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I become. Really? After the day I’ve had? It’s barely past seven a.m. and two Shelby goons decide I’m their next source of amusement.

The only victim I am is one of circumstance.

In the morning before classes—every morning except Tuesdays, that is—I catch the bus to Dayton’s Boxing and Mixed Martial Arts Club. Sticking my nose in a book used to be my thing. But I can’t concentrate; I’ve lost the simple pleasures in life. Now I get my kicks by kicking ass. I’m a natural, or so my trainers tell me. Comes in handy when dealing with the Shelbian riffraff. Still, the odds are against me. Two men to my one woman.

I pick up the pace, ignoring the sting as the stalks smack my face, arms, legs. It’s difficult to hear anything besides the rain. Have they given up? Has my perfectly aimed cock-kick and a broken nose discouraged them? Caused them to move on to a less-pissed-off victim?

The answer comes in the form of a solid wall of muscle, which I realize too late that I’ve run right into it. On contact, the man’s chest flexes beneath my breasts. I jerk back, but instead of glaring up at him, my eyes are drawn to the little green horse embroidered onto his pale pink polo shirt. A jockeyless pony situated on the upper swell of what is the tightest, brawniest, most muscular display of pecs around, the tight pull of his shirt across his chest leaving nothing to the imagination.

I want to press my thumb against that pony, make sure my girls got it right. Except this man isn’t one of Dayton’s gym jockeys . . .

I bring my knee up, aiming for his privates. He laughs and neatly sidesteps me, so my knee connects with his hard, chino-clad thigh. Pain jolts through my leg and up my spine. I grit my teeth, pissed off and slightly unnerved. I send an elbow up toward his jaw. This move’s brought many a man to his knees, but he swats my elbow away. I feel his control, his power. And I know I’m in trouble.

“What are you going to pull next, fireball? Hit me over the head with that loaf of bread?” he asks, his tone deep, rich like chocolate, smooth like truffles. His voice is amused. His words grate on my nerves. 

Run, common sense tells me. Stay, a recklessly rogue thought pops into my head. 

I reluctantly drop my loaf of Texas toast. He’s folded his arms across his chest, obscuring the little pony beneath his muscular arms. I stare at the spot, wondering why a preppy like him is after me. “What do you want?” My eyes skim upward and I’m greeted by smug, self-assured tilt of his lips. You, his smile seems to say. I want you.

I’m tall at five feet nine, lithe and long-legged. This man’s chin can rest on my head. A perfectly shaped chin, accompanied by high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, and as my gaze flickers across his face, deliciously full, kissable lips. He’s fair, like me. Except he’s sporting a fine line of five-o’clock shadow.

His jaw-dropping good looks snag my attention. But it’s the energy between us that knocks the wind out of me. Sexual magnetism. It’s like the air’s supercharged, undergoing some kind of chemical reaction, hot and bubbly and ready to explode. And, as that lazy smile of his broadens,

I feel my body physically responding . . . what the hell? “What do you want?” I repeat, in a hoarse tone. Far too affected by him than I care to admit. He makes a sound deep within his throat and I swear the crotch of my shorts are instantly wet.“

"To see if what your T-shirt says is true.

I glance down.

CAN'T CATCH ME. Oh shit.

Author Bio

Michele Mannon has been writing romance since her first publication in 2012. A multiple recipient of Romantic Times Magazine’s prestigious TOP PICKS distinction, Michele’s books always pack a punch, leaving readers laughing out loud, or swooning and biting their fingernails at all the appropriate times.  

To date, she’s written contemporary sports and spicy, enemies-to-lovers romances with a heavy dose of suspense. Her books have been sold in print, digitally, and on Audible.  

Michele lives on a mountain overlooking the Delaware River, where she can be found with a glass of Riesling in her hand and a laptop on her lap. Find her online at: http://www.michelemannon.com

Author Links

NEWSLETTER
BOOKBUB
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GOODREADS
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Rogue (Deadliest Lies, #1) by Michele Mannon

Title: Rogue

Series: Deadliest Lies #1

Author: Michele Mannon

Genre: New Adult Romantic Suspense

Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

 Release Date: August 6, 2020

Blurb

When I first laid eyes on him, I should have run the other way.

Trouble was written all over him, from the confident swagger in his stride and seductive curl of his lips, to his smug, knowing looks. Jaxson was irresistible . . .and I fell hard. 

Then he was killed. 

Now the ruthless, unforgiving boss of an underworld organization thinks I did it.  

I’ve gone rogue, hell-bent on both revenge and redemption. Whatever it takes, I'm going to finish a job that began nine months ago. An unauthorized assignment that turned horribly, devastatingly wrong. My miscalculation. My fault. My heart left shattered into incomplete pieces which will never wholly fit back together again. 

But first I have to outsmart the hired killer they've sent after me; a killer who knows my every move, who’s been inside my head, who owns my heart. 

I'm the traitor, Kylie. The rogue mercenary. His newest assignment.  

And this is our love story. 

*Rogue was previously released by St. Martin's Press. This edition has been updated and revised.*

ADD TO GOODREADS

Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Excerpt

Kylie - Shelby, Oklahoma

I hit the roadway, running hard and headed toward the far side of town.

Clouds roll in. Figures I left our house filled with determination only to trek back home wet and weary. Beyond weary. Tired. So bleeding tired of fighting battles no twenty-three-year-old should ever face. But these are the cards I’ve been dealt.

I’m so preoccupied with the downpour of troubles that seem to accompany the downpour of rain, I ignore the black sedan and the gravel it’s kicked up as it passes by me. Dismiss the red glare of its taillights, faintly visible through the rain. Pay no heed to how the sedan is backing up as quickly as it’d sped by me.

Too late, I stop and gesture wildly at them to continue on.

Then everything but the rain seems to pause. 

The blond hairs on my arms stand at attention. It’s like being swept into a cloud of darkness, where for a split second everything is calm before all hell breaks loose. But I’m a native Oklahoman, where tornados crop up like spring daffodils. Where quick thinking and survival know-how are the name of the game.

I take off running back toward town, then pivoting on my heels, burst into a withering wheat field bordering the road.

Stalks swat my face. Mud covers my sneakers and splashes up my legs. My mind spurs on my tired body. “Faster. Go faster.” I slip and slide but am abruptly grabbed by the waistline and hauled up off my feet. 

Gritting my teeth, I send my right elbow and left heel backward. Both connect hard, into my captor’s jaw and junk trunk. 

He drops me. “You goddamn bitch,” I hear, but faintly. My legs are already in motion.

A different man grasps onto my arm. I turn and, using the momentum from my spin, aim the heel of my palm up into the tender flesh beneath his nose. 

Blood spurts out of it like a lawn sprinkler. I’ve broken the second guy’s nose and ruined his faded white T-shirt. Before he can grab me, I dash into the thickest, healthiest crop of stalks, which better conceals me. 

But it slows my progress. My sense of direction is distorted. If it’d been a clear night, the stars would guide me to safety. Today’s nothing except another miserable Shelby day. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I become. Really? After the day I’ve had? It’s barely past seven a.m. and two Shelby goons decide I’m their next source of amusement.

The only victim I am is one of circumstance.

In the morning before classes—every morning except Tuesdays, that is—I catch the bus to Dayton’s Boxing and Mixed Martial Arts Club. Sticking my nose in a book used to be my thing. But I can’t concentrate; I’ve lost the simple pleasures in life. Now I get my kicks by kicking ass. I’m a natural, or so my trainers tell me. Comes in handy when dealing with the Shelbian riffraff. Still, the odds are against me. Two men to my one woman.

I pick up the pace, ignoring the sting as the stalks smack my face, arms, legs. It’s difficult to hear anything besides the rain. Have they given up? Has my perfectly aimed cock-kick and a broken nose discouraged them? Caused them to move on to a less-pissed-off victim?

The answer comes in the form of a solid wall of muscle, which I realize too late that I’ve run right into it. On contact, the man’s chest flexes beneath my breasts. I jerk back, but instead of glaring up at him, my eyes are drawn to the little green horse embroidered onto his pale pink polo shirt. A jockeyless pony situated on the upper swell of what is the tightest, brawniest, most muscular display of pecs around, the tight pull of his shirt across his chest leaving nothing to the imagination.

I want to press my thumb against that pony, make sure my girls got it right. Except this man isn’t one of Dayton’s gym jockeys . . .

I bring my knee up, aiming for his privates. He laughs and neatly sidesteps me, so my knee connects with his hard, chino-clad thigh. Pain jolts through my leg and up my spine. I grit my teeth, pissed off and slightly unnerved. I send an elbow up toward his jaw. This move’s brought many a man to his knees, but he swats my elbow away. I feel his control, his power. And I know I’m in trouble.

“What are you going to pull next, fireball? Hit me over the head with that loaf of bread?” he asks, his tone deep, rich like chocolate, smooth like truffles. His voice is amused. His words grate on my nerves. 

Run, common sense tells me. Stay, a recklessly rogue thought pops into my head. 

I reluctantly drop my loaf of Texas toast. He’s folded his arms across his chest, obscuring the little pony beneath his muscular arms. I stare at the spot, wondering why a preppy like him is after me. “What do you want?” My eyes skim upward and I’m greeted by smug, self-assured tilt of his lips. You, his smile seems to say. I want you.

I’m tall at five feet nine, lithe and long-legged. This man’s chin can rest on my head. A perfectly shaped chin, accompanied by high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, and as my gaze flickers across his face, deliciously full, kissable lips. He’s fair, like me. Except he’s sporting a fine line of five-o’clock shadow.

His jaw-dropping good looks snag my attention. But it’s the energy between us that knocks the wind out of me. Sexual magnetism. It’s like the air’s supercharged, undergoing some kind of chemical reaction, hot and bubbly and ready to explode. And, as that lazy smile of his broadens,

I feel my body physically responding . . . what the hell? “What do you want?” I repeat, in a hoarse tone. Far too affected by him than I care to admit. He makes a sound deep within his throat and I swear the crotch of my shorts are instantly wet.“

"To see if what your T-shirt says is true.

I glance down.

CAN'T CATCH ME. Oh shit.

Author Bio

Michele Mannon has been writing romance since her first publication in 2012. A multiple recipient of Romantic Times Magazine’s prestigious TOP PICKS distinction, Michele’s books always pack a punch, leaving readers laughing out loud, or swooning and biting their fingernails at all the appropriate times.  

To date, she’s written contemporary sports and spicy, enemies-to-lovers romances with a heavy dose of suspense. Her books have been sold in print, digitally, and on Audible.  

Michele lives on a mountain overlooking the Delaware River, where she can be found with a glass of Riesling in her hand and a laptop on her lap. Find her online at: http://www.michelemannon.com

Author Links

NEWSLETTER
BOOKBUB
INSTAGRAM
FACEBOOK
GOODREADS
AMAZON
WEBSITE

The Russian Unleashed by Red Phoenix

Title: The Russian Unleashed

Author: Red Phoenix

Genre: New Adult/Romantic Suspense

Release Date: July 14, 2020

Blurb

I am a simple man. I love fine vodka, whips, and beautiful women.

And I have a secret.

At twenty-one, I’ve just inherited my family's entire fortune.

Young, rich, and powerful, I am a force to be reckoned with -

in and out of the bedroom.

But the streets of Russia are dangerous.

When innocence is threatened, I risk my life to save a girl.

Now the Bratva have their sights set on me.

I did not ask to be a hero, but I refuse to back down.

I will fight to the end to protect the honor of the woman I love.

I am Rytsar Durov.

And they have no idea what they have unleashed!

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Purchase Links

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B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS

Excerpt

I start back down the hill, my soul heavy with loss. I enter the train in a daze, unaware of the people around me. My heart aches with the same intensity as the day I lost her, and I put my hand to my chest, finding it difficult to breathe.

I get off at the next stop so I can collect myself before the tears start to fall.

As I stand there, taking deep breaths, I look across the tracks to the train stop on the other side. I see a young woman sitting alone, reading a book.

A train thunders by between us, shaking the platform as the air fills with the loud clickety-clack of the wheels on the track.

After it passes, the silence returns. I take several deep, calming breaths trying to ease the ache in my heart.

I look to see the girl is still there, completely lost in her book.

I walk over to study the train schedule and realize I’m going to be stuck here for a while. I groan as I take a seat on the bench.

Eventually, an old couple joins me.

Not wanting to cry in front of them, I use the girl across the train tracks as a distraction by making up a story about who she is and where she is headed.

I imagine she is the daughter of a high-ranking general. No doubt, her father is overly protective and rarely lets her out of his sight. Not one to stay caged, she sneaks out whenever she can and rides the train for hours. Although she knows that she’ll be punished for it when she returns, it’s worth the price to be free—if only for a little while.

I see two men join her on the platform. She is oblivious of them, too caught up in her reading.

I watch the men speak to each other as they look at her. After several minutes pass, they look around to see if anyone is watching.

I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I stand up to let them know that I see them.

Off in the distance, I hear another train racing down the tracks toward us.

They look in the direction of it and start talking animatedly to each other. I call out to the girl, trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t look up from her book.

The men look at me as the speeding train approaches.

When they start walking toward the girl, I shout to warn her, but the whistle of the train drowns out my voice. I know she will be gone once the train passes.

It’s like watching what happened to Tatianna play out in front of me.

Glancing at the train barreling down the tracks, my instincts kick in…

Author Bio

Over Two Million readers have enjoyed Red’s stories.

USA Today Bestselling Author Red Phoenix is an award-winning romance author who gained popularity with her series, Brie's Submission.

She also happens to be a submissive in real life and began writing Brie’s story so people everywhere could find out just how fun BDSM can be.

Author Links

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