July 19 2015

Sapphire Beautiful Release Day

sapphire beautiful release day

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Book Title: Sapphire Beautiful
Author: Ren Monterrey
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

I never imagined that I’d be starting my fifth year as a faculty member in the Medieval Studies department as a thirty-two-year-old widow. I’m sure to be the butt of every joke around campus as the collateral damage of a sex scandal that made national headlines. And my husband left me completely broke before he killed himself.

I don’t want to lose my house and all the money I invested in it so I make an arrangement through The Club. I’ll get what I need…money to get out the financial ruins my dead husband left me in. And Dante McNally will get what he wants…access to my body…whenever and however he wants it…

There’s only one catch. Dante is one of our new graduate students and the recipient of a prestigious research fellowship funded by his billionaire father. And this is the year I’m supposed to be applying for tenure.

Sapphire Beautiful is a stand-alone full-length novel that is part of Ren Monterrey’s The Club series. Each novel in The Club series can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the series.
The Club series includes:
Black Dog Nights (three-part serial novel)
Sapphire Beautiful (stand-alone full-length novel)
Mad Dog Days (three-part serial novel)
Gold Dust Woman (stand-alone full-length novel)
Yellow Dog Blues (three-part serial novel)
Grey Cloudy Lies (stand-alone full-length novel)

excerpt

I’m out of breath as I dash into the front entrance of The Club right at three o’clock. The public transportation gods must have been smiling down on me today because I didn’t think I was going to make it on time.

“I’m—here—to—see—Claudia,” I gasp.

The young woman at the front desk looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. I’m thin, but this woman looks almost anorexic.

The Club is in an upscale part of the city surrounded mostly by offices filled with high priced attorneys and financial advisors. The exterior of the small building is nondescript and blends in with the neighboring buildings. If you didn’t know exactly what you were looking for you’d probably just ignore it.

Inside The Club is much more dramatic. Everything is dark wood and feels heavy. It definitely exudes an atmosphere of old money and refinement.

When the fashion model at the front desk finally looks at me I can tell by the sneer on her perfect face that she’s not impressed with what she sees.

Professors aren’t known for being fashion plates. The only thing in my closet that I had even remotely appropriate for an interview was the black suit I wore when I defended my dissertation. I also wore it when I interviewed for faculty positions. The suit is definitely not sexy. It’s a suit that says take me seriously as a scholar. It definitely doesn’t say fuck me.

“You are?” She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

I clear my throat. “Mary. I have an appointment. Three o’clock.”

She looks me up and down. “Are you sure?”

I stare at her defiantly. After successfully defending a doctoral dissertation in front of a committee of hypercritical Ph.D.s it’s extremely difficult to intimidate me. Miss I-Just-Stepped-Off-The-Runway doesn’t intimidate me in the least.

“Follow me.” She turns on her very high heels and heads down a vast hallway. Her stride is so long I nearly have to sprint to keep up with her.

“You can go in,” she tells me when we reach the office at the very end of the hallway. “Claudia is expecting you.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond. She turns and hurries away.

I swallow, but my throat is quickly closing. I feel like I could pass out at any moment. I take in a deep breath and do my best to compose myself.

“Get a grip,” I tell myself. “You need the money.”

When I open the door I’m taken aback to see the office is completely white. It’s in sharp contrast to the dark feel of rest of The Club.

“Have a seat.” Claudia demands.

I take back what I said about no longer being intimidated by anyone. Claudia is scary as hell.

I quickly take the only other seat in the room opposite her massive metal desk. The furniture probably appears larger than it actually is because it’s completely bare. No computer, no phone, not even a calendar. I assume in a profession like hers it’s a liability to write things down.

She eyes me for what feels like forever before she speaks again.

“Thirty-two.” That’s all she says. Then she stares at me again.

I’m not sure what to do so I just mumble a barely audible, “Okay.”

“You’re thirty-two,” she repeats as if I’m the stupidest person on the planet.

“How did you know?”

She glares at me. I guess I’m not supposed to ask questions. Then she says, “You’re a lot older than the girls we usually hire.”

I nod because I don’t want to be on the receiving end of another one of her icy glares.

“Most of my clients want college girls in their early twenties.”

I take in a deep breath and prepare myself for the inevitable rejection. In my life as a college professor I’m considered young with my whole career ahead of me. It’s hard for me to fathom a profession in which you’re completely washed up by the time you’re twenty-five.

If you can actually call being a paid mistress a profession.

I expect Claudia to kick me out and tell me to never come back, but to my surprise she removes a thin file from her top desk drawer and places it on her desk.

Pointing to it she says, “I have a special case that you may be right for.”

A glimmer of hope.

“This is a unique situation,” she continues. “He’s already interviewed two of my girls and unfortunately they both declined an arrangement. He’s getting a bit anxious to find someone, so this time he’d like a contract signed before you meet him.”

I swallow, hard, as I wonder what could possibly be wrong with the guy for two girls to decline him.

“He will be your only offer for an arrangement.” Claudia pushes the file towards me. “With so many much younger girls to choose from the likelihood that anyone else would select you is slim.”

My mind races with all of the possible reasons this man could have been rejected. Is he ancient? Does he have personal hygiene issues? Is it some kind of physical deformity? Maybe all of the above?

My chest tightens. This is someone I’m going to have to have sex with. A lot. How far am I willing to go for the money?

You want to keep your house, I tell myself. This is probably your only option.

When Claudia thumps her index finger on the desk expectantly I know she’s waiting for me to make a decision.

“Okay,” I try not to sound as uncertain about it as I feel.

“He did not request a photo. He gave me certain parameters for the type of girl he likes and you fit the bill. He was extremely disappointed that the two women he chose didn’t work out so he’s leaving this selection to my discretion.”

I know I should be grateful that I’m getting any arrangement at all, but I can’t help but feel like the last girl asked to the prom.

Claudia opens the file. It looks like a contract. “You’ll need to sign this document. It gives me permission to share your information with Mr. McNally. We do a complete background check as well as a full medical examination. I’ll need your driver’s license and Social Security numbers.”

She opens her top drawer again, removes a sleek black pen and hands it to me.

I gulp. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I need the money and I need it fast. I lift up the pen and fill in my personal information. Then I sign my name to the contract.

Claudia’s face contorts in what I can only assume is her version of a smile.

“Will I get a copy of these documents?”

“You can ask Mr. McNally about that.”

That seems a bit odd until I realize that I didn’t see a photocopy machine anywhere.

She reaches into her desk and pulls out a small card which she slides across the desk. “This is an account set up for your arrangement. It’s our version of PayPal. Memorize the account number and log-in information then destroy the card. As soon as the Mr. McNally places money into the account it’s yours to keep. He will no longer have access to it. And you’re free to leave it there or transfer it into another account of your choice.

“He’s already placed your first payment into the account. Quite generous, I might add, but I’m sure he’ll expect for you to be equally generous in return. He’s anticipating an exclusive arrangement. That means no other men while you’re under contract.” She looks up at me. “And just so we’re clear, the exclusivity does not extend to him.”

I immediately think about my husband. It sounds like his idea of exclusivity too. I just didn’t know it. I remained faithful while he was with as many co-eds as he had time to screw.

I remind myself that this arrangement is a financial and not an emotional one. I’ll be exchanging access to my body for money. That doesn’t mean I have to give him access to my mind or heart.

“I assume you use birth control.”

When I shake my head she looks puzzled. This isn’t something I like to talk about, but I can tell by the disgusted expression on her face that it’s going to be necessary to discuss.

“We like to pride ourselves on providing a safe environment for our clients. One in which unwanted pregnancy is never an issue.”

“I have some medical issues.” I explain. “I can’t use oral birth control methods. But I’m not able to have children either.”

Her gaze narrows as she seems to consider what I’ve just shared.

“I’ve been sexually active for fifteen years,” I tell her. “I’ve never been pregnant and I’ve never been on the pill.”

“We normally require all of our girls to use birth control. Provide documentation from your personal physician to our staff physician so he can approve an exemption. We’ll also need to provide Mr. McNally with documentation that you’re disease free.”

She slides another card across the table. “This is the address for our staff physician. He’s extremely discreet. All of your test results will come directly to me and I’ll make sure they get to Mr. McNally. I’ve already scheduled an appointment for you in one hour. Mr. McNally is quite anxious to meet you and begin your arrangement.”

When she stares at me it takes me a moment to realize I’ve been dismissed. Rising from the chair I feel a little dizzy. I’m actually going through with his. I’m actually going to have sex with a man I don’t know in exchange for money. I worked so hard most of my adult life to make sure I could use my mind and intellect to earn my living and now I’m probably going to make just as much selling my body as I do using my brain as a college professor.

Teaser

Sapphire Beautiful Teaser

Meet the Author

REN MONTERREY lives in a small town outside Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and their bloodhounds. She writes New Adult and Contemporary romance under a number of different pen names including Sierra Avalon, Savannah Young and Dakota Madison.

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August 12 2014

Monterrey, Ren: Black Dog Nights

 

 

 

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Book Title: Black Dog Nights
Author: Ren Monterrey
Genre: New Adult (Serial Novel)
Release Date: August 8, 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Synopsis

My student loans are due and I still haven’t found a job that pays more than minimum wage. So I decide to make an arrangement through The Club. I’ll get what I need…money to pay my loans. And he’ll get what he wants…access to my body…whenever and however he wants it.

ROSE COLLINS is a recent art school graduate with overwhelming student loan debt and no way to pay it.

JAE ROTHKO is a wealthy and renowned artist who doesn’t have the time or patience for a relationship.

Jae joins The Club so he can have one woman when he wants and how he wants with no attachments and no expectations.
He selects Rose to be that woman.

BLACK DOG NIGHTS is a SERIAL NOVEL, which unfolds in THREE PARTS (approximately 80 pages each). EACH PART has a CLIFFHANGER and EACH PART is .99 cents. (That’s $2.97 for ALL THREE PARTS.)

Ren Monterrey Teaser One

excerpt

By the time we get to The Rock Stop, the dance club is already crowded with twenty-somethings who all look eager to hook up with anyone who’s willing.

Two guys, who are already half-drunk, gawk at my breasts as I walk by. I wish there was another feature of my anatomy that garnered as much attention as my mammary glands.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I hit the relative safety of the bar area.

“What do you want to drink?” Cali yells over the loud Top Forty music.

“Would I look too conspicuous just holding a glass of water?”

She purses her lips at me. I tell her she looks like a duck when she does that but it doesn’t stop her.

“I’ll get you a beer. You don’t have to drink it but I don’t want you to embarrass me, or yourself.”

“Yes, Daffy,” I tease.

“I do not have duck lips,” she insists.

“You do when you pucker them like that.”

“I think you’re on crack.”

“Just get the beer.”

She waves in order to get the bartender’s attention but no such luck. He’s busy with a group of girls at the other end of the bar.

“Hey, Babe.” An arm reaches over Cali’s shoulder. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.”

David nods in my direction. “What’s up?”

He never addresses me by my name even though he’s been hooking up with Cali for over a year and I’ve seen him dozens of times.

David is the kind of guy I always hated in high school. His family has money and he’s never had to work a day in his life for anything. Cars, clothes, expensive vacations, you name it, and his parents have handed it to him on a silver platter. As a result he has a sense of entitlement that knows no bounds.

No doubt that’s why he feels like he can treat Cali any way he pleases and she’ll just keep coming back for more.

He runs his fingers through his short brown hair. I’m not sure whether it’s a nervous habit, or if he thinks that his fingers are like some kind of comb, but he does it all the time.

David is a good-looking guy in a frat-boy kind of way. Cali says he played baseball in high school, and he looks like he probably still plays sports. He’s not huge, but he’s definitely in good shape.

Cali met him at a frat party. Even though she’s never set foot in a college class she’s spent a lot of time at college parties. David likes to brag about the fact that he’s a business major. I don’t see what the big deal is though. I feel like business is a major for people who don’t really know what they want to do with their lives.

Not that I have any room to talk. Apparently I earned a degree for people who don’t really want a job.

Before I know it, Cali and David have disappeared somewhere and I’m alone at the bar.

I didn’t even want to come here in the first place.

I have a choice. I can leave or I can order a drink. After the day I’ve had a drink is actually starting to sound appealing.

As soon as the DJ starts mixing, nearly everyone moves to the dance floor. The bar area is now pretty empty except for a young woman seated at the far end. She glances up at me when I approach and gives me the faintest of smiles.

She’s an attractive blonde with stunning ocean blue eyes. She’s the definition of a blonde bombshell. She’s got curves that would give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money.

I order a Crantini and the bartender wastes no time filling my order.

“Tough day?” the blonde asks.

I nod.

“Have a seat.” She points at the stool next to her.

“Thanks.”

I climb onto the stool and take a sip of my drink. It’s strong and I cough a little as it goes down.

“Russ likes to make them strong.” She laughs. “Maybe he thinks he’ll get lucky at the end of the night.”

The bartender, who looks like he’s in his mid-thirties, is completely bald and built like a brick house. Definitely someone I would want to have on my side if a fight broke out.

“Are you waiting for someone?” I ask. She looks a little too dressed up for the place we’re in. It’s mostly a denim crowd and she’s in a little black dress and pumps.

“You could say that.”

I nod. A cryptic response, but I get the impression that she’s not going to say much more about who she’s waiting for.

“So what’s your story?” she asks.

I laugh. “Do I look like I have a story?”

“You definitely look like you have a story.”

“You’ve probably heard it a million times before.”

She glances at her watch. I can’t help but notice it’s a gorgeous Rolex. The blonde doesn’t look that much older than me. I doubt she’s even twenty-five. It makes me wonder how she can afford such an expensive watch. When I look at her more closely, I notice she’s also wearing a diamond tennis bracelet and huge diamond stud earrings. Also very expensive.

Maybe she’s like David and has a generous daddy with lots of money.

“I’ve got a few minutes before my friend gets here. Tell me this story I’ve heard a million times before.”

I take another sip of my drink. She’s right. Russ does like to make them strong.

“I recently graduated from art school. I have a fine arts degree but no professional job and no prospects. My student loans are set to go into repayment and I have no way to pay them. I’m barely making ends meet on my salary busting my ass at the local coffee shop. Pathetic, right?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not pathetic, but you’re right, it’s a story I’ve heard a lot. Maybe not a million times. Half a million tops.”

We both laugh. It feels good to laugh about it. At least for one night.

She reaches into her purse, a pricey Coach bag, and pulls out a business card. I expect her to hand it to me but she places it on the bar between us instead.

“I don’t do this very often but I feel bad for you, so I’m making an exception.” She points to the card. “You can pick it up if you want to, after I tell you what it’s about. Or you can leave it on the bar. It’s completely up to you.”

My curiosity is definitely piqued. When I glance down at the card I notice it only has two words: The Club followed by a phone number.

“What’s The Club?”

“It’s a kind of dating service.”

I frown. “Do I look like need a date?”

“No, but you said you need money. This is a special kind of dating service for extremely wealthy men.”

I assume that’s how she got her Rolex and other jewelry, but I don’t want to be rude by asking. “Are you saying it’s kind of like having a sugar daddy?”

She laughs. “That’s kind of an antiquated term but sort of. Most of the men in The Club are older and they have very specific tastes. Most of them want younger women, but more importantly, they want women who will be there whenever and however they want.”

I gulp. Then I whisper. “Are you talking about prostitution?”

She gives me a little smile. “Prostitution implies that you’re with multiple men and they’re paying you for sex. It’s not like that. It’s more like you’re being paid to be one man’s mistress.”

“Are they married?”

She laughs. “Some are. Some aren’t. Does it matter?”

“I think it would to me.”

“Why?”

It’s a good question. I’m not married. He’d be the one doing the cheating.

“Do you mind if I ask how much money you’re talking about?”

“That’s negotiable between you and the man who selects you. It’s called an arrangement. You can negotiate any sort of arrangement you want.”

“Could you give me a ballpark figure?”

“Usually between three and five thousand a month.”

My eyes grow wide at the thought of that kind of money. My salary at the coffee shop, even with overtime and tips, doesn’t come close to that.

“And that doesn’t include all of the perks. A lot of the men like to provide their girlfriends with generous gifts in addition to their arrangement.”

“You said a lot of the guys are older. How old?”

An image of a geriatric using a walker crosses my mind. I’m not sure I’d be able to have sex with someone that old, if he could still even have sex.

“The guy I have an arrangement with is fifty-four.”

That’s ten years older than my dad. I can feel my stomach churn. Am I really considering getting involved with some kind of club and being paid to have sex with a guy who could be older than my father?

The blonde leans in close. “Don’t let his age fool you. He can still perform in bed. And I only have to see him two days a week for a few hours. And my arrangement is non-exclusive. He doesn’t mind if I date other guys.”

“I don’t really date that much,” I confess.

“That’s even better. There are a lot of guys who want exclusive arrangements. Not many girls will commit to that.”

I stare at the business card for a few seconds. Is this something I’m actually considering? I’m just not sure. There’s no doubt that I need the money but I’m not sure about having sex with someone I don’t even know…for money.

“It’s really not that bad,” she insists. “I wasn’t sure at first either but you get used to it. And Alex can be a really sweet guy.”

She makes a point of pushing the business card a little closer to me. “At least meet with Claudia. You can always back out if a guy selects you and you don’t like him.”

I pass my hand over the card and hesitate for a moment. I feel like this is a pivotal moment. Like my whole life could change just by picking up the card.

I take in a deep breath then grab the card from the bar. Now that it’s actually in my hand I feel like calling the phone number is inevitable.

“Tell Claudia that December sent you.”

My eyes widen and I can’t help the look of surprise on my face. “Your name is December?”

She laughs. “It’s my real name too. And I wasn’t even born in December. My birthday is November 28. I was an early arrival. But my parents already picked out the name and they really liked it.”

She holds out a hand for me to shake. “December Reynolds.”

“Rose Collins,” I reply as I shake her hand.

“Claudia just accepted several new members into The Club and she’s looking for a few more girls. I think she’ll really like you. You’re cute and classy.”

I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment. “Thanks,” I say anyway.

December looks at her watch. “I’ve got to split. I’m supposed see Alex in a few minutes.”

She hops down from her barstool then reaches into her purse, grabs two twenties and throws them on the bar. The drinks here aren’t cheap but they’re not that expensive. “The Crantini is on me. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Give my best to Claudia.”

Before I have a chance to respond, December is hurrying out the door.

Meet the Author

Ren Monterrey lives in a small town outside Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and their bloodhounds. She writes New Adult and Contemporary romance under a number of different pen names.

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