Friday, February 3, 2017

Romance Between The Pages Podcast: Mandy M Roth


Ever wondered about the personalities behind your favorite books? Victoria Danann's new podcast with Riley J. Ford has an incredible lineup of authors booked through January. No question is out of bounds. Check it out!

THIS WEEK'S BEST SELLING AUTHOR...
MANDY M. ROTH!

NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Mandy M. Roth is a self-proclaimed Goonie, loves 80s music and movies and wishes leg warmers would come back into fashion. She also thinks the movie The Breakfast Club should be mandatory viewing for…okay, everyone. When she’s not dancing around her office to the sounds of the 80s, she’s busy writing sexy paranormal operatives. Mandy lives in Oxford, Mississippi with her husband and three boys. She has sold well over 1 million ebooks.


Chapter Reveal: Mastering Her Senses by Laura Kaye

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Decadent… Sensual… Forbidden…

12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life. Meet the Masters of Blasphemy…

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About MASTERING HER SENSES (Blasphemy #2, 2/21/17):

12 Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…

He wants to dominate her senses—and her heart…

Quinton Ross has always been a thrill-seeker—so it’s no surprise that he’s drawn to extremes in the bedroom and at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, where he creates sense-depriving scenarios that blow submissives’ minds. Now if he could just find one who needs the rush as much as him…

When an accident leaves Cassia Locke with a paralyzing fear of the dark, she’ll try anything to get help. Ready to fight, she knows just who to ask for help—the hard-bodied, funny-as-hell Dom she’d always crushed on—and once stood up.

Quinton is shocked and a little leery to see Cassia, but he can’t pass up the chance to dominate the alluring little sub this time. Introducing her to sensory deprivation becomes his new favorite obsession, and watching her fight fear is its own thrill. But when doubt threatens to send her running again, Quinton must find a way to master her senses—and her heart.

Pre-order now!

Amazon: Coming 2/21/2017 | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

Add to your Goodreads

Dear Readers, I’m having so much fun writing in the sexy, sensual world of Blasphemy that I couldn’t wait until release day to share a chapter from my next story in this series, Mastering Her Senses. Quinton is funny and sexy and smart as hell, but he also has that intense, dominant side that I just can’t get enough of! The Blasphemy series are stand-alone erotic romances all set in an exclusive play club located in the ruins of an abandoned church in downtown Baltimore. That means you can read them in any order and enjoy them all! Now, read on to meet the next Master of Blasphemy! And don’t forget to preorder – now available everywhere! Thanks for reading! Laura Kaye
MASTERING HER SENSES (A BLASPHEMY BOOK)
BY LAURA KAYE
CHAPTER ONE
Quinton Ross was in his happy place.
Standing behind the bar at Blasphemy, the club he co-owned with eleven of the coolest assholes he’d ever known, he surveyed the roomful of wonderfully kinky people wearing a whole lotta nothing. Totally his jam.
And the fact that he’d get to play with one of them later? Seriously, a man’s life didn’t get any better.
Well, having a submissive of his own…that could be better. Theoretically.
Except the one and only time he’d attempted that, the woman had screwed him over so royally he’d almost needed lube. Heh.
But, whatever. Quinton tried really frickin’ hard to let things roll off his shoulders. People had much worse shit in their lives than him. Most of the time, he considered himself lucky and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Besides, he never lacked for company or partners around the club, and no submissive ever left him anything but fully satisfied. He made damn sure of it.
“Hi, Master Quinton,” came a feminine voice from further down the counter.
He turned to find a blond-haired woman with a sleek, silver prosthetic arm leaning against the marble of the ornate bar. Kenna Sloane. And right behind her stood her big mountain of a Dom and one of Quinton’s best friends, Griffin Hudson. “Aren’t you looking lovely tonight, Kenna,” Quinton said with a smile as he made his way to where Griffin was sliding into a seat and pulling Kenna’s slim hips between his legs. “And am I wrong or is this some snazzy new hardware?” He nodded at her arm. She’d lost everything below her right elbow while serving with the Marines in Afghanistan. If she and Griffin hadn’t been fuckin’ fated, Kenna might’ve been Quinton’s kind of woman.
Adventurous. Brave. Willing to push life to the extremes.
But they were fated, something the diamond on her finger and the platinum collar with its unique interwoven knot sitting at the hollow of her throat both indicated. Loud and clear.
Kenna smiled, so much more comfortable here at the club—and seemingly in her own skin—than she’d been when she and Griffin had first reconnected a few months back. “I have a couple different sockets. And a girl has to coordinate,” she said, holding it up to the almost sheer sparkling silver halter top she wore.
Chuckling, Quinton nodded and clasped hands with Kenna’s Dom. “Master Griffin, how the hell are ya?” Their wrists bore matching leather cuffs with embroidered Gothic M’s. Every Blasphemy Master—the experienced Dominants who owned the club and took turns running and monitoring it—wore one like it.
“Never better, my friend. Never better.” The skin crinkled around Griffin’s dark eyes as he spoke, his smile coming a million times easier than it ever had before. Quinton guessed that was what happened when you were not only able to correct one of the biggest mistakes of your life, but find a submissive who was also your soul mate in the process.
Lucky fucker.
“I know that’s true,” Quinton said, winking at Kenna. She ducked her chin but was smiling bright enough to light up the whole room. And that was saying something given the size of Blasphemy. Located in the renovated remains of an old abandoned church, the massive rectangular nave formed the central part of the club. Filled with lots of seating and play areas, it had a soaring ceiling, massive stained-glass windows all around, and a performance and demonstration stage where the altar had once been. Themed rooms and other private spaces stretched off from the main floor. In addition to the very private and exclusive Blasphemy, the public front of their business—Club Diablo, a three-story dance club in a renovated warehouse—stood across a courtyard.
And Quinton provided hands-on management over it all.
He’d been with the clubs from the beginning, and had used his savings and the money he’d made selling a small but successful bar of his own to purchase his ownership stake in Blasphemy, a deal that got even sweeter when his partners had offered him the job of managing the bars and all the food service at both clubs. Food, drink, and sex all tantalized the senses and therefore were equally high up on the list of things he loved, and always had been. Given his prior experience, he pretty much had full control of the operation. Just like he liked.
Griffin placed an order for him and Kenna, then asked, “You have a scene set up tonight?”
Quinton got busy making their drinks and shook his head. “No,” he said with a grin. “But I’m looking forward to the thrill of the hunt.”
Griffin chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
The quip on Quinton’s tongue died when a flashing red light under the bar’s edge caught his eye. An emergency in one of the rooms. He glanced at the tag over the light to determine which one, then slammed the drinks down in front of his friends harder than he’d intended. “Shit, G, sorry. Emergency in the dark room. Get someone to cover?” he said, moving without waiting for an answer. He knew Griffin would have his back.
Quinton moved as fast as he could without calling undue attention. Their members knew that the Masters and a team of other Doms who worked as monitors responded to all sorts of problems around the club, some as mundane as an equipment malfunction and others more delicate situations involving disputes between players in a scene. Hell, a few months ago, Quinton had responded when Kenna broke down during a bondage scene, and Griffin had called for help extricating her from his intricate ropework. Sex at the extremes was bound to run into a few issues, which was why consent and safety were hallmarks of BDSM and Blasphemy itself. But none of that meant any of them wished to distract players from their pleasures with worry or curiosity, either.
Off the main floor, Quinton picked up his pace as he moved down the long hallway off of which most of the themed play rooms were located. The dark room was at the far end. Master Wolf came up beside him. “Hey, man,” he said.
Quinton gave him a nod. “Didn’t know you were on tonight, Wolf. Good to see you.”
A little taller than Quinton, the guy had dark blond hair, the brightest green eyes you’d ever seen, and a chiseled Scandinavian face that turned heads all over the club. “Running the security control room. Relieving Isaac because the baby’s sick,” he said, referring to Isaac Marten, their head of security operations, who had a two-month-old son.
“Damn. Sorry to hear that,” Quinton said as they closed in on their destination. The dark room was actually a series of three interconnected rooms. In the center was a pitch-black bedroom, accessed only through two changing/waiting rooms on either side of it—one of which let out into this hallway, and the other of which let out into a different hallway so that the players couldn’t run into each other before or after the anonymous scene. The dark room was very popular, and given Quinton’s interest in sensory deprivation, it was one he’d used many times.
He heard someone in distress before they even got inside.
Quinton and Wolf burst through the door to find one of the monitors trying to calm a woman curled on the floor, gasping like she couldn’t breathe. She wore a slinky bronze dress that bared most of her legs.
“What happened?” Quinton asked, grabbing a blanket from a shelf and going to his knees beside her. He tucked the soft fleece around her.
“I don’t know,” the monitor said. I sounded the alarm but she told me not to call an ambulance when I asked.
“She just freaked out. I swear. Nothing hardly happened between us,” a shirtless man said from the doorway to the dark bedroom.
Quinton hadn’t even noticed him there, but Wolf was already questioning him. He nodded to the monitor, a Dom in his forties, and then peered up at Master Wolf. “You all clear out. Debrief him and get his information.”
“You got it, Q,” Wolf said, motioning the other men out into the hall. “Call if you need help.”
As they left, Quinton brushed the woman’s shoulder-length hair back off her splotchy face. “We need to get your breathing under control or I have to call an ambulance.”
“No…no…I…it’s…” Clenching her eyes, she shook her head and growled as if in frustration.
Damnit, he needed to do something for her. The part of him that needed to care and soothe decided, and he scooped her off the floor and carried her to the couch. Everywhere they touched, her pulse hammered against her skin. If this was a panic attack, it was one of the worst he’d ever seen.
He sat with her in his lap, the blanket still wrapped around her, and cradled her so that they were facing each other. “Breathe with me, little one. Do you hear me? Look at me and breathe with me.” Striking hazel eyes with flecks of gold cut to his. Almost familiar…
Focusing, he exaggerated one breath, than another, and another, until she struggled to match her rhythm to his.
Griffin appeared in the doorway, questions clear on his face. Quinton spared him the smallest of glances and gave a single shake of his head. Griffin nodded and closed the door. Quinton had this. The others would be there in a heartbeat if he was wrong, but he didn’t think he was.
Because the woman’s body was calming. Her breathing was evening out. Her pulse was slowing. Her muscles were losing their tension.
“That’s it. That’s good. Just watch me and breathe with me. Don’t stop. We’ll kick this thing, don’t you worry.” He stroked his hand over her hair, wanting to soothe her. The color was so rich it almost matched the bronze of her dress. Her hair was beautiful and soft. As was the rest of her, all golden skin and pretty curves. Her weight felt good in his arms. She turned her face into his hand, just the littlest bit, and he stroked her hair again. A jagged scar ran along her forehead and into her hairline over one eye.
The scar triggered the oddest thought: That wasn’t there before.
His gaze cut back to those eyes. Hazel with the gold. And he suddenly knew he’d seen them before. Years ago. Right here at Blasphemy. A name clicked into place.
“Cassia?” he asked. Cassia. As in Cassia Locke, a submissive he’d flirted with quite a few times and was once supposed to play with…but she’d stood him up the night of their scene.
“Y-yes, Sir,” she whispered. “H-hi, Mas-ter Q-quinton.”
So she recognized him, too. Did she remember that night? He shook off the thought. Their history wasn’t something to deal with just then.
“Hi yourself, kid.” He gently scratched his fingertips against her scalp and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths that she mimicked. Studying her, Quinton noticed another scar on her right shoulder. Her hair was also much longer than the almost boyish style she used to wear. Finally, Cassia went limp in his lap, and her ease unleashed a satisfaction in his blood. “Feeling better?”
She gave a long sigh, the sound exhausted and defeated. “As better as I can feel after utterly humiliating myself. Sir.”
He shook his head. “No such thing happened. Not as far as I’m concerned.”
Her gaze skittered away.
“Did I tell you to stop looking at me?”
Cassia’s eyes snapped back to meet his. “No, Sir.”
Her obedience unleashed even more of that satisfaction. The attraction of BDSM, to him, was as much about the psychology of it as the physicality of the acts. Her reaction—that obedience—represented an ingrained instinct, a need to serve, a desire to surrender. And that fucking heated his blood. He arched a brow and nodded. “Good girl.”
She shifted in his lap, but kept her eyes on his. The movement reminded his body that he’d been planning to find a partner, but he locked that shit down tight. First, because she’d been through something tonight he didn’t entirely understand. And second, because given that she’d stood him up and never bothered to follow up to explain, he wasn’t sure what to make of her anyway. And trust was kind of a thing, for him. Well, for most Doms, really. Which meant he needed to know.
“Now, tell me what happened,” he said, nailing her with a stare. “And tell me the truth.”
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Books in Series:

Hard to Serve #.5

Bound to Submit #1

Mastering Her Senses #2 – 2/21/17

Eyes on You #3 – 7/11/17

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Join the MASTERING HER SENSES Facebook Party on February 21st! JOIN THE PARTY HERE!

Laura Kaye - headshotAbout Laura Kaye: Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of thirty books in contemporary and erotic romance and romantic suspense, including the Blasphemy, Hard Ink, and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. Laura also writes historical fiction as the NYT bestselling author, Laura Kamoie. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.      
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Blog Tour: Titan World featuring Edge of Temptation by Gennita Low

featuring-gennita

We're so excited to host a day on the blog tour for TITAN WORLD, featuring Cristin Harber and ten authors writing in Cristin Harber's Titan world. The book being featured today is EDGE OF TEMPTATION by Gennita Low! Check out an excerpt below.

Did you miss what Titan World is all about? Read the announcement here!

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About EDGE OF TEMPTATION by Gennita Low

From New York Times best-selling author Cristin Harber and New York Times, USA Today best-selling author Gennita Low comes an exciting collaboration… Walker, Titan's newest recruit, has been sent to rescue Nadine Kincaid, DARPA's scientist working on a special state-of-the-art exoskeleton for COS Command's Super Soldier Spy Project. Instead, the tied-up Nadine turned out to be Nadia, Nadine's twin sister, who has been protecting her sister all along. Now the two of them have to work together to keep the newest exoskeleton blueprints out of the enemy's hands.
Get your hands on EDGE OF TEMPTATION and all of the Titan World books now!

 

Read an Excerpt

Rule #1. Never call your new boss in the middle of his sort of second honeymoon. To his credit, his new boss, Jared Westin, picked up at the first ring. “You realize you’re calling in between baby time. Which means, you’re calling during my time with my wife. This better be good, Walker, or I’m docking your pay.” Walker heard Sugar in the background, “And he has to do babysitting duties when he gets back. Rookie.” He shuddered at the thought. He knew he shouldn’t have called. “Umm, Bossman, do scientists wear fuck-me tight white leather to work?” He eyed his charge from the car. That could not be Nadine Kincaid. The woman turned in his direction and he had a good look. Yup, that was definitely her, in a tight leather get-up burning a hole in his eyeballs, carrying her usual work briefcase. “Is this a trick question?” Jared asked. “Because I’m not an expert in leather clothes. Sugar is, though....Baby Cakes, he wants to know whether scientists wear fuck-me tight white leather to work.” Walker sighed. “Don’t give me a hard time, Bossman. Something’s wrong. She’s wearing leather.” He watched her walk past, in her usual path, but holy hell, that walk. He muttered, “She’s wearing fuck-me high heels too.” That sashay of a walk was a slow prowl. She bent to pick something up, her leather-encased ass in perfect view. That slow burn in his eyeballs was making a direct heat blast down to lower regions. “Fuck-me high heels,” his boss repeated. He sounded amused. “Did we hire you for fashion analysis, Rookie?” Sugar’s voice came through loud and clear now. Either Jared handed her the phone or she snatched it from him. “What do you have against fuck-me leather, anyway? I wear leather.” He did not want to get into a fight with Sugar Westin, especially about leather outfits. That woman wore it like armor. Rule #2. Never discuss the clothes a woman wears with her. He cleared his throat. “Nothing, but the target is wearing something she hasn’t worn to work in the last five days I’ve had her under surveillance,” Walker replied. “I called to tell Jared that something’s up.” He gritted his teeth. Wait for it. Wait for it. “Jared, our boy here said, while looking at our scientist in fuck-me leather, something’s up.”     .

About Gennita Low

Gennita Low writes sexy military and techno spy-fi romance. She also co-owns a roof construction business and knows 600 ways to kill with roofing tools as well as yell at her workers in five languages. A three-time Golden Heart finalist, her first book, Into Danger, about a SEAL out-of-water, won the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best Romantic Intrigue. Besides her love for SEALs, she works with an Airborne Ranger who taught her all about mental toughness and physical endurance. Gennita lives in Florida with her mutant poms and one chubby squirrel.

Release Tour w/Giveaway: Dealing With The Viscount by Clair Brett

DEALING WITH THE VISCOUNT
Improper Wives for Proper Lords (Book 1)
by Clair Brett

Promo Tour: She the One by Erin Nicholas


She's The One, Counting on Love Series Book 1 by Erin Nicholas

Date of Publication: June 11, 2013


Blurb


Sometimes you see love clearly. And sometimes it has to smack you in the face.
When a stranger walks up and punches him, Ryan Kaye assumes there's a good reason. But he's stunned to learn it's over a one-night stand that never happened —with his friend's sister, straight-laced Amanda Dixon. When Ryan confronts her about the lie, Amanda apologizes, but Ryan realizes he doesn't want her to be sorry…he wants the night they supposedly spent together.
Amanda's not looking to add anyone to her long list of commitments, so she was only trying to let a nice guy down easy by telling him a fling with Ryan broke her heart. So what if the fling only happened in her dreams? But when Ryan Kaye tempts her with the chance to go crazy and fulfill a few fantasies, she can't resist. Thank goodness one night isn't enough time to fall in love…
Warning: Contains a hot paramedic who knows how to get a girl to let her hair down, a girl who thinks she prefers her hair up, some naughty laser tag, some naughty role-playing and a lot of falling in love.

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About Erin Nicholas



I've been reading romance since my mom first let me into her book cupboard when I was about fourteen. LaVyrle Spencer, Julie Garwood, Debbie Macomber... they took my 'happily ever after' ideas from animated princesses to real people in the real world.
I've been writing romance almost as long. Many a family car trip was spent with my head bent over a spiral notebook in the back seat. I'll confess that my very first attempts at fiction were fantasy and paranormals, influenced by my father's love of the Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and the original Alice in Wonderland. If Harry Potter had been around, I'm sure he would have been on the bedtime story shelf as well.
But it wasn't long until I started writing about true love and that's where I've been ever since.
I'm so thrilled to be able to share these stories with you! I hope that they make you smile, sigh, maybe even choke up a little. Most of all, I hope that they help you believe in magical things like first kisses, the spark of passion, and the power of true love.

Find Erin Nicholas Online

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