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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

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And you can purchase Deep in PRINT…

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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.

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For The First Time Anthology Release Blitz

For the First Time

A brand new anthology of original, never-before-read

stories from today’s hottest authors

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Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 12, 2015

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Available Now

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | B&N | iTunes | Kobo

About the Book

You never forget your first time…

From young heartbreak to a virginity auction, from the chance meeting to the happily ever after, twenty-one exclusive stories explore first love in all its forms. This set includes almost 200,000 words of steamy encounters and sweet romance.

Purchase Links

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Book Review

Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of For the First Time in exchange for an honest review.

It is my pleasure to have the opportunity to read and review For the First Time. The authors involved in this anthology and the varied stories are absolutely amazing! For this review I didn’t read the entire anthology, but skipped through several stories to get a feel for the totality of the anthology.

Sole by Alessandro Torre

I’ve had a lot of first in the last three years. Today is a new one. First time throwing a three-year-old birthday party, Hollywood Style. Too bad my sexier-than-sin husband is absolutely no help. And Cocky is in the pool. And Ben is having a panic attack. And Justin is feeding my child sugar at every opportunity.

This is past the dirt, and more than just Hollywood. This is our life as Sole.

Sole is a combination of sweet and sweaty in just the right combination. Ms. Torre has a way of mixing the two together and I can’t wait to get my hands on the full length novel, Meet Cole Masterson.

A Lake George Christmas by Debra Presley

Abby is looking forward to spending time with Danny’s family as they settle in to celebrate their first Christmas together. Little does she know, Danny has something up his sleeve for this holiday.

Ms. Presley continues the exceptional writing that she brought us in her debut novel, Finding Us (A Nucci Securities Novel). I’m so happy to see Danny and Abby living their happily-ever-after and look forward to more of the Nucci Securities Series.

Advent by Nina Lane

Liv and Dean face the possibility that their first Christmas together could also be their last.

This is a pretty little piece of a much darker story about Dean and Liv. In Advent they find their happily-ever-for-now. Check in to the full story in AROUSE: Book One by Nina Lane.

The stories in For the First Time such a wonderful mixture and I’ve enjoyed reading every bit of it. I definitely recommend that you pick up your copy today! I give For the First Time four steaming cups of Room With Books coffee.

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DIVIDER

©January 12, 2016

Patricia, Room With Books

DIVIDER

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Pretty When You Cry Book Blitz @skye_warren @bookenthupromo

Book Title: Pretty When You Cry (Stripped, #4)
Author: Skye Warren

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Review Blitz

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Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: 10/20/2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
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Book Blurb

“Dark, perverse, and unbearably erotic, Pretty When You Cry is Skye Warren at her gritty best.” ~ Anna Zaires, USA Today bestselling author of Twist Me

A new dark romance novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Wanderlust and Prisoner…

I came from a place of dirt floors and holy scriptures. They told me the world outside was full of sin, and the first night I escape, I find out it’s true. Ivan saves me, but he does more than that. He takes me. He makes me his own girl.

My conditioning runs too deep. Ivan sees what I am.

That’s the thing about showing a mouse to a cat. He wants to play. And it’s terrifying, even for me. Because the only thing darker than my past is his.

****************

Author’s Note: Pretty When You Cry is a STANDALONE dark romance novel set in the dark, sexy Stripped series world. Not intended for those uncomfortable with the subject matter or under eighteen.

Books in the Stripped series
½. Tough Love (prequel)
1. Love the Way You Lie
2. Better When It Hurts
3. Even Better
4. Pretty When You Cry
excerpt

So far a city looks exactly how I thought it would—gutted buildings and dark alleys.

A den of wickedness.

This morning I woke up on my floor mat in Harmony Hills. Sunlight streamed through the window while dust rose up to meet it. The white walls somehow kept their color despite rough dirt floors.

A desperate trek through the woods and a series of bus rides later, I made it to a city. This city. Tanglewood. It could have been anywhere. They’re all the same, all sinful, all scary—and the only thing that makes this one special is that I ran out of money for bus tickets.

My shoes are made of white canvas, already fraying and black from the grime of the streets. I made these shoes by hand when I turned twelve, and the heel on the left side has never fit quite right. But the bamboo soles lasted for years in the hills. Now they’re cracking against concrete. I can feel every lump in the pavement, every loose rock, every rounded hump as the sidewalk turns to cobblestone and then back again.

That’s not the worst part.

There’s someone following me. Maybe more than one person. I try to listen for the footsteps, but it’s hard to hear over the pounding in my ears, the thud of my heart against my chest. Panic is a tangible force in my head, a gritty quicksand that threatens to pull me down.

I could end up on my knees before this night is over.

But I don’t think I’ll be saying my evening prayers.

Men are standing outside a gate that hangs open on its hinges. They fall silent as I walk close. I tighten my arms where they are folded over my chest and look down. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me. It wasn’t true when I was little, and it’s not true now.

One of them steps in front of me.

My breath catches, and I stop walking. My whole body is trembling by the time I meet his eyes, bloodshot red in a shadowed face. “What’s your name?” he asks in a gravelly voice.

I jerk my head. No.

“Now that’s not very polite, is it?” Another one steps closer, and then I smell him. They couldn’t have showered in the past day or even week.

Cleanliness is a virtue.

Being quiet and obedient and small is a virtue too. “I’m sorry. I just want to—”

I don’t know what comes next. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to pretend the past sixteen years as a disciple of the Harmony Hills never happened. None of that is possible when I’m surrounded by men. I take a step back and bump into another man. Hands close around my arms.

A sound escapes me—fear and protest. It’s more than I would have done this morning, that sound.

I’m turned to face the man behind me. He smiles a broken-toothed smile. “Doesn’t matter what you want, darling.”

My mouth opens, but I can’t scream. I can’t scream because I’ve been taught not to. Because I know no one will come. Because the consequences of crying are worse than what will happen next.

Then the man’s eyes widen in something like fear. It’s a foreign expression on his face. It doesn’t belong. I wouldn’t even believe it except he takes a step back.

My chest squeezes tight. What’s behind me? Who is behind me that could have inspired that kind of fear? The men surrounding me are monsters, but they’re backing off now, stepping away, hands up in surrender. No harm done, that’s what they’re saying without words.

I whirl and almost slip on a loose cobblestone.

The man standing in front of me is completely still. That’s the first thing I notice about him—before I see the fine cut of his black suit or the glint of a silver watch under his cuff. Before I see the expression on his face, devoid of compassion or emotion. Devoid of humanity.

“We didn’t know she worked for you,” one of the men mumbles.

They’re still backing up, forming a circle around us, growing wider. I’m in the middle. I’m the drop, and the men around me form a ripple. Then they fade into the blackness and are gone.

It’s just me and the man in the suit.

He hasn’t spoken. I’m not sure he’s going to. I half expect him to pull out a gun from somewhere underneath that smooth black fabric and shoot me. That’s what happens in the city, isn’t it? That’s what everyone told me about the outside world, how dangerous it is. And even while some part of me had nodded along, had believed them, another part of me had refused.

There had to be beauty outside the white stucco walls. Beauty that wasn’t contained and controlled. Beauty with color. Only apparently I was wrong. I haven’t seen anything beautiful—except him.

He’s beautiful in a strange and sinful way, one that makes me more afraid. Not colorful exactly. His eyes are a gray color I’ve never seen before, both deep and opaque at the same time. The building itself is beautiful too with its wrought iron gate around a large courtyard. The fountain in the center is broken, but that only adds to the mystique.

The marquee sign reads Grand, a flash of neon pink against the black night.

He steps closer, the light from the sign illuminating his face, making him look even more sinister. “What’s your name?”

I couldn’t answer those other men, but I find something inside for him. I find truth. “I’m not allowed to say my name to someone else.”

He studies me for a long moment, taking in my tangled hair and my white dress. “Why not?”

Because God will punish me. “Because I’m running away.”

He nods like this is what he expected. “Do you have money?”

I have twenty dollars left after bus fare. “Enough.”

His lips twist, and I wonder if that’s what a smile looks like on him. It’s terrifying. “No, you don’t,” he says. “The question is, what would you do to earn some?”

Anything.

My voice is just a whisper. “I’m a good girl.”

He laughs, and I see that I was wrong before. That wasn’t a smile. It was a taunt. A challenge. This is a real smile, one with teeth. The sound rolls through me like a coming storm, deep and foreboding.

“I know,” he says gently. “What’s your name?”

“Candace.”

He studies me. “Pretty name.”

His voice is deep with promise and something else I can’t decipher. All I know is he isn’t really talking about my name. And I know it isn’t really a compliment. “Thank you.”

“Now come inside, Candace.”

He turns and walks away before I can answer. I can feel the night closing in on me, the sharks in the water waiting to strike. It’s not really a choice. I think the man knows that. He’s counting on it. Whatever is going to happen inside will be bad, and the only thing worse is what would have happened outside.

I hurry to catch up with him, almost running across the crumbled driveway, under the marquee sign for the Grand, past the broken fountain, desperate for the dubious safety of the man who could hold the darkness at bay. It’s the same thing that kept me in Harmony Hills for so long—fear and twisted gratitude.

Teasers

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Praise

“It’s gritty, edgy, and sexy, served to you in the well-written, absorbing style that Skye is so talented at delivering. I can’t wait to get my hands on the rest of the Stripped series.” – Shameless Book Club

“A jagged, layered and enthralling adventure that weaves darkness and light with precision and purpose.” – the lusty literate

“It’s dark, mysterious, sexy, and I loved every page of it! There were twists and turns that I never saw coming! I love when an author is able to keep me guessing until the very end of the book.” – Book Fancy Book Blog

“Love The Way You Lie was heartwarming, exhilarating and tantalizing with just the right tinge of darkness.” – Warhawke’s Vault

Note: Pretty When You Cry came out on Oct 20th. It is set in the Stripped world from previous books, but it is written to stand alone.

Here’s the book on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25705284-pretty-when-you-cry

Meet the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dark romance.

Don’t miss a release! Find out about new releases and exclusive giveaways here: skyewarren.com/newsletter

And like Skye Warren on Facebook here: facebook.com/skyewarren

Thank you for reading! <3

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Pretty When You Cry Book Tour @skye_warren @GoddessFish

Pretty When You Cry

by Skye Warren

 

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ROOM WITH BOOKS encourages our readers to follow the tour and leave comments.

 

GENRE: Dark Romance

 

About the Book

I came from a place of dirt floors and holy scriptures. They told me the world outside is full of sin, and the first night I escape, I know it’s true. Ivan saves me, but he does more than that. He takes me. He makes me his own girl.

My conditioning runs too deep. Ivan sees what I am.

That’s the thing about showing a mouse to a cat. He wants to play. And it’s terrifying, even for me. Because the only thing darker than my past is his.

MediaKit_BookCover_PrettyWhenYouCry

 

Excerpt

So far a city looks exactly how I thought it would—gutted buildings and dark alleys.

A den of wickedness.

This morning I woke up on my floor mat in Harmony Hills. Sunlight streamed through the window while dust rose up to meet it. The white walls somehow kept their color despite rough dirt floors.

A desperate trek through the woods and a series of bus rides later, I made it to a city. This city. Tanglewood. It could have been anywhere. They’re all the same, all sinful, all scary—and the only thing that makes this one special is that I ran out of money for bus tickets.

My shoes are made of white canvas, already fraying and black from the grime of the streets. I made these shoes by hand when I turned twelve, and the heel on the left side has never fit quite right. But the bamboo soles lasted four years in the hills. Now they’re cracking against concrete. I can feel every lump in the pavement, every loose rock, every rounded hump as the sidewalk turns to cobblestone and then back again.

That’s not the worst part.

There’s someone following me. Maybe more than one person. I try to listen for the footsteps, but it’s hard to hear over the pounding in my ears, the thud of my heart against my chest. Panic is a tangible force in my head, a gritty quicksand that threatens to pull me down.

I could end up on my knees before this night is over.

But I don’t think I’ll be saying my evening prayers.

Men are standing outside a gate that hangs open on its hinges. They fall silent as I walk close. I tighten my arms where they are folded over my chest and look down. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me. It wasn’t true when I was little, and it’s not true now.

One of them steps in front of me.

My breath catches, and I stop walking. My whole body is trembling by the time I meet his eyes, bloodshot red in a shadowed face. “What’s your name?” he asks in a gravelly voice.

I jerk my head. No.

“Now that’s not very polite, is it?” Another one steps closer, and then I smell him. They couldn’t have showered in the past day or even week.

Cleanliness is a virtue.

Being quiet and obedient and small is a virtue too. “I’m sorry. I just want to—”

I don’t know what comes next. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to pretend the past fifteen years as a disciple of the Harmony Hills never happened. None of that is possible when I’m surrounded by men. I take a step back and bump into another man. Hands close around my arms.

A sound escapes me—fear and protest. It’s more than I would have done this morning, that sound.

I’m turned to face the man behind me. He smiles a broken-toothed smile. “Doesn’t matter what you want, darling.”

My mouth opens, but I can’t scream. I can’t scream because I’ve been taught not to. Because I know no one will come. Because the consequences of crying are worse than what will happen next.

Then the man’s eyes widen in something like fear. It’s a foreign expression on his face. It doesn’t belong. I wouldn’t even believe it except he takes a step back.

My chest squeezes tight. What’s behind me? Who is behind me that could have inspired that kind of fear? The men surrounding me are monsters, but they’re backing off now, stepping away, hands up in surrender. No harm done, that’s what they’re saying without words.

I whirl and almost slip on a loose cobblestone.

The man standing in front of me is completely still. That’s the first thing I notice about him—before I see the fine cut of his black suit or the glint of a silver watch under his cuff. Before I see the expression on his face, devoid of compassion or emotion. Devoid of humanity.

“We didn’t know she worked for you,” one of the men mumbles.

They’re still backing up, forming a circle around us, growing wider. I’m in the middle. I’m the drop, and the men around me form a ripple. Then they fade into the blackness and are gone.

It’s just me and the man in the suit.

He hasn’t spoken. I’m not sure he’s going to. I half expect him to pull out a gun from somewhere underneath that smooth black fabric and shoot me. That’s what happens in the city, isn’t it? That’s what everyone told me about the outside world, how dangerous it is. And even while some part of me had nodded along, had believed them, another part of me had refused.

There had to be beauty outside the white stucco walls. Beauty that wasn’t contained and controlled. Beauty with color. Only apparently I was wrong. I haven’t seen anything beautiful—except him.

He’s beautiful in a strange and sinful way, one that makes me more afraid. Not colorful exactly. His eyes are a gray color I’ve never seen before, both deep and opaque at the same time.

He steps closer, the light from a marquee sign illuminating his face, making him look even more sinister. “What’s your name?”

I couldn’t answer those other men, but I find something inside for him. I find truth. “I’m not allowed to say my name to someone else.”

He studies me for a long moment, taking in my tangled hair and my white dress. “Why not?”

Because God will punish me. “Because I’m running away.”

He nods like this is what he expected. “Do you have money?”

I have fifteen dollars left after bus fare. “Some.”

His lips twist, and I wonder if that’s what a smile looks like on him. It’s terrifying. “No, you don’t,” he says. “The question is, what would you do to earn some?”

Anything.

My voice is just a whisper. “I’m a good girl.”

He laughs, and I see that I was wrong before. That wasn’t a smile. It was a taunt. A challenge. This is a real smile, one with teeth. The sound rolls through me like a coming storm, deep and foreboding.

“I know,” he says gently. “What’s your name?”

“Candace.”

He studies me. “Pretty name.”

His voice is deep with promise and something else I can’t decipher. All I know is he isn’t really talking about my name. And I know it isn’t really a compliment. “Thank you.

“Now come inside, Candace.”

He turns and walks away before I can answer. I can feel the night closing in on me, the sharks in the water waiting to strike. It’s not really a choice. I think the man knows that. He’s counting on it. Whatever is going to happen inside will be bad, and the only thing worse is what would have happened outside.

I hurry to catch up with him, almost running across the crumbled driveway, under the marquee sign for the Grand, desperate for the dubious safety of the man who could hold the darkness at bay. It’s the same thing that kept me in Harmony Hills for so long—fear and twisted gratitude.

swirl

About the Author

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romance. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Sign up for Skye’s newsletter:

www.skyewarren.com/newsletter

Like Skye Warren on Facebook:

https://facebook.com/skyewarren

Join Skye Warren’s Dark Room reader group:

http://skyewarren.com/darkroom

Follow Skye Warren on Twitter:

https://twitter.com/skye_warren

Visit Skye’s website for her current booklist:

www.skyewarren.com

 

Giveaway

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

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Better When It Hurts Book Blitz

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Book Title: Better When It Hurts (Stripped, #2)
Author: Skye Warren

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Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: June 4, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

Five years ago we lived in the same house. He was the ultimate bad boy. And my foster brother.

Now he’s back. Tougher, harder, meaner. All of it aimed at me, because I was the one who sent him away. It’s payback time. He wants his pound of flesh, and I am helpless to say no.

Continue reading Better When It Hurts Book Blitz

Love the Way You Lie Blitz

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Love the Way You Lie

by Skye Warren

Blitz: Love the Way You Lie by Skye Warren
Publication Date: March 12, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Dark, Romance

Amazon

A dark romance about the lies that lead us down…

I’ll do anything to get safe, even if that means working at the scariest club in town.

I’ll do anything to stay hidden, even if it means taking off my clothes for strangers.

I’ll do anything to be free. Except give him up. When he looks at me, I forget why I can’t have him. He’s beautiful and scarred. His body fits mine, filling the places where I’m hollow, rough where I am soft.

He’s the one man who wants to help, but he has his own agenda. He has questions I can’t answer. What are you afraid of?

You.

Add to Goodreads

About Skye Warren

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

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Take Me Book Blitz

Take Me

by Amber Lin & Shari Slade, Anna Zaires & Dima Zales, CD Reiss, Gemma James, Jenika Snow, Kendall Ryan, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Pepper Winters, Shay Savage, Skye Warren

Publication Date: February 3, 2015
Genres: Anthology, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance

Blitz: Take Me Anthology

Amazon | Nook | iBooks

Surrender to desire with 12 books by the hottest names in dark romance, including bestselling authors Pepper Winters, Anna Zaires, and Lynda Chance.

CD Reiss – Spin
Jenika Snow – A Beautiful Prison
Pepper Winters – Destroyed
Skye Warren – Trust in Me
Kendall Ryan – Unravel Me
Anna Zaires & Dima Zales – Twist Me
Shay Savage – Otherwise Alone & Otherwise Occupied
Amber Lin & Shari Slade – Three Nights with a Rock Star
Pam Godwin – Deliver
Lynda Chance – Marco’s Redemption
Gemma James – Torrent

These e-books would cost over $40 if purchased separately. This set will only be available for a limited time, so order your copy now!

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About the Authors

Please consider following the authors to find out more about their books…

Pepper Winters – Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

Skye Warren – Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

Kendall Ryan – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Pam Godwin – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Gemma James – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Amber Lin – Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

Shari Slade – Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

Jenika Snow –Website | Facebook | Twitter

Shay Savage – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Anna Zaires – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Dima Zales – Website | Facebook | Twitter

Lynda Chance – Website | Facebook

CD Reiss – Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

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Prisoner Cover Reveal

Prisoner

by Annika Martin, Skye Warren

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Date of publication: October 23, 2014

 Synopsis

Prisoner:

He seethes with raw power the first time I see him—pure tattooed menace and rippling muscles in shackles. He’s dangerous. He’s wild. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

So I hide behind my prim glasses and my book like I always do, because I have secrets, too. Then he shows up in the prison writing class I volunteered to teach and he blows me away with his honesty. He tells me secrets in his stories, and it’s getting harder to hide mine. I shiver when he gets too close, with only the cuffs and the bars and the guards holding him back. At night, I can’t stop thinking about him in his cell.

But that’s the thing about an animal in a cage—you never know when he’ll bite. He might use you to escape. He might even pull you into a forest and hold a hand over your mouth, so you can’t call for the cops. He might make you come so hard, you can’t think.

And you might crave him more than your next breath.

 About the Author

AnnikaAnnika Martin

I’m a pet wrangler, bookworm, mediocre tennis player and hairstyle failure. And yes, an author, but I promise not to spam you if you friend me!

I live just a stone’s throw from the Mississippi with my husband and two beloved cats in a home full of plants, sunshine, books and cookie crumbs. By day, I’m a freelancer in the business world. In addition to being smutty Annika, I write urban fantasy under the pen name Carolyn Crane.

Website | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

SkyeauthorpicSkye Warren

Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There’s struggle in the sex. There’s pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

 

 

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Warren, Skye: On the Way Home

OnTheWayHome-SkyeWarren-500x750

ON THE WAY HOME

by Skye Warren

Available: May 20, 2014

set-of-borders-for-design-913-1483 - Copy (5)

Synopsis:

Clint

For eight months I’ve been deep undercover as a special operator in the Army. On the plane ride home, all I want is a hot shower and a long sleep. But a Dear John text message leaves me stranded. I need a ride and a place to stay, and the pretty stewardess is more than willing.

Della

It’s supposed to be a simple trade—the passenger in seat 34B for my sister. But the sexy soldier is more than I can handle in all the best ways. He trusts me, but I can’t save him. No one can. Sometimes trouble has a way of following you home.

On the Way Home is a dark new adult romance intended for readers over eighteen.

set-of-borders-for-design-913-1483 - Copy (5)

About the Author:

Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There’s struggle in the sex. There’s pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Links:

Website //  Twitter // Facebook // Pinterest