Deep Book Blast @skye_warren @GoddessFish

Deep

by Skye Warren

 

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ROOM WITH BOOKS encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave comments! <3

 

GENRE: Contemporary Romance

 

About the Book

Dark. Powerful. Dangerous. Philip Murphy has all of Chicago under his thumb. Except me. We met in a perfect storm of violence and lust. He saved me and then disappeared from my life. Now I pretend I never knew that kind of darkness. I focus on midterms and campus parties, as if they can wipe the slate clean. Then he turns up outside my dorm room–wounded and barely conscious. He’s the head of a criminal empire, a powerful man, but he needs me now. There are traitors in his midst. I can help him, but I can’t fall for him. Not again.

Purchase Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Q2eESk

iBooks: http://apple.co/24f5Gaw

Nook: http://bit.ly/1WC1FqS

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1PLs0B7

Google Play: http://bit.ly/1R2ZfO2

All Romance: http://bit.ly/1QuSv11

And you can purchase Deep in PRINT…

http://amzn.to/1Tz3fvF

 

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Excerpt

The sound came again, louder. A shiver ran through me. It was coming from outside the room, but not from either side. It was coming from the door.

I crept over and looked out the peephole. An empty hallway bulged in the distorted lens.

Now I was doubting myself. Had I actually heard something? Maybe it had come from the dorm room across the hall. When I first moved here, it had been shortly after my “ordeal,” as my adoptive mother called it. I had jumped at every sound, both real and imagined, more traumatized by my brush with danger than I’d wanted to admit.

My gaze snapped to my phone.

I could call my adoptive mother right now, but I knew she wouldn’t want to be bothered. I could call the building management, but I knew what would happen. The same thing that had happened last time I called them. They’d send my floor advisor to check on me. If there was anything scary in this hallway, she’d have to face it first.

And if there wasn’t anything scary, if it was my imagination again, the PTSD I didn’t want to acknowledge, well then everyone would know how fucked up I was inside.

No, I had to be overreacting. This was nothing. There was no one in the hallway. And even if there was, it would be some drunk guy, passed out on the wrong floor.

I’m a normal college student, I reminded myself. I’m not afraid of anything.

Both of those things were lies, I was neither normal nor brave, but at least I could send a drunk frat boy on his way.

I opened the door a crack. Nothing.

Relief filled me, and I opened the door wider.

A body slid inside, slumped over without the door to support him. A short scream escaped me before I caught myself.

He was wearing a three-piece suit stained with blood, his expression slack, eyes glassy with pain and delirium. Philip.

Oh God, he was hurt. Really badly hurt if he couldn’t stand up. Horribly hurt if he’d ever have come to me of all people. I didn’t have time to process the shock of it, of seeing him again. I had to get him out of sight. If he’d been injured like this, someone was after him. Someone would want to finish the job.

“Come inside,” I whispered urgently, pulling his arm.

All that earned me was a weak groan.

Panic beat in my chest. Was he losing consciousness? Was he dying?

I managed to sling his heavy arm over my shoulders, staggering under even that much weight. Christ. Awake he was pure packed power. Half-conscious and injured, he was like a pile of steel bars—unmovable and unwieldy.

“I’ll never forgive you if you die on my doorstep,” I said.

Something like a grunt escaped him—it might have been a laugh. Either way, he surged up, tapping into some deep well of energy or survival instinct. His effort and all my strength pushed us through the doorway and into my dorm room. It had seemed small before. Now it seemed tiny as we bumped into walls and staggered to the bed.

I wanted to lay him down gently, careful with his wounds, but in the end we both fell under his weight, tangled on the bed in a heap of exhausted limbs. With a coarse shove I managed to get him on his back so I could shut the door.

The hallway was just as empty as when I’d found him. There was a little smear of blood on the doorjamb. It turned a mottled brown when I wiped it with my shirt.

That would have to be good enough for now.

I just hoped no one had followed him. I just hoped no one found him.

And I really hoped no one found me.

 

Meet the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance such as Wanderlust and Prisoner. Praised as a “true mistress of dark erotica”, 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, four dogs, and one evil cat.

Connect With the Author

Website: http://www.skyewarren.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/skyewarren

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/skyewarrenbooks

Twitter: https://twitter.com/skye_warren

 

Giveaway

Skye will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B&N gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Scott, Kylie: Lead, A Stage Dive Novel

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Stay up all night with the sexy rockers in Stage Dive,

the epic New Adult series

from New York Times bestselling author

Kylie Scott,

author of Lick and Play.

 

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About Lead (Stage Drive #3):

lead As the lead singer of Stage Dive, Jimmy is used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, whether it’s booze, drugs, or women. However, when a PR disaster serves as a wake-up call about his life and lands him in rehab, he finds himself with Lena, a new assistant to keep him out of trouble.

Lena’s not willing to take any crap from the sexy rocker and is determined to keep their relationship completely professional, despite their sizzling chemistry. But when Jimmy pushes her too far and Lena leaves, he realizes that he may just have lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

Amazon // B&N // iTunes

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The Stage Dive series by Kylie Scott:

Lick (Stage Dive #1): Amazon / B&N / Goodreads

Play (Stage Dive #2): Amazon / B&N / Goodreads

Deep (Stage Dive #4) available on January 6th, 2015: Amazon / B&N /Goodreads

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Check out more of Kylie’s work:

The Flesh series || Colonist’s Wife || Heart’s A Mess

 

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Excerpt:

“Lena, you seen my old black Led Zep shirt?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?” His brows became one dark cranky line. The scratches on his face were healing well, thank goodness. Though it didn’t reduce my desire to throttle his mother on a daily basis.

“Yes. I haven’t seen it.”

Can’t find it anywhere…”

“And this is a surprise, how?” I slipped my hands into my back jean’s pockets. “Jimmy, you own more clothing than Cher, Brittney, and Elvis, put together. Things are bound to go missing.”

“Sure you haven’t seen it?”

“For goodness sake, what do you think, Jimmy? That I stole it to sleep in or something?” I laughed bitterly. Sure as hell, the truth deserved a good mocking. I’d sunk so despicably low.

I hadn’t even meant to steal the stupid thing, but the shirt had been mixed up with my laundry a few days ago. It’d been the first top I laid my hand on after stepping out of the shower, ready to go to bed. Without thought, I’d put it on and it’d been so soft, the scent of him lingering beneath the laundry detergent. Every night since, I’d found myself in it come bedtime. My shame knew no limits. And no, I still hadn’t quit. The words still hadn’t come even close to leaving my mouth.

He frowned. “No.”

“That I have some deep secret longing to feel close to you resulting in my stealing your shirt like
some creepy perv?”

“Course I don’t fucking think that,” he replied crankily, reaching up to grip the top of the doorframe. All of his bulging muscles stretched the arms of his white T-shirt in the nicest way. It was all I could do not to start drooling, my heart beat taking up residence somewhere down between my thighs. And who could blame it? Not me. Maybe if I got laid, this would go away and things would return to normal. It’d seemed safer to avoid rubbing up against any men just in case I got carried away and started dating again. This new situation, however, changed everything.

“Well, of course not! That would be crazy.” And wasn’t that the god’s honest truth? Cray-zeee. Lock me up and throw away the key because it wasn’t like I didn’t know better.

“Just can’t figure out where the hell it could be.”

Angels couldn’t have smiled as innocently. They might have tried, but they would have failed, the dirty-mouthed, winged, little liars. “Jimmy, I don’t know where it is. But I’ll look around for it later, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, and then added as an afterthought, “and stop looking at me weird.”

“I’m not!”

 

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About Kylie Scott:

Kylie ScottKylie is a long time fan of romance, rock music, and B-grade horror films. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and one delightful husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet.

Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Goodreads | Website

 

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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