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Currently Browsing: Sunday Snippet
Oct
4

Sunday Snippet: Heart’s Blood by Jeffe Kennedy from the Dark Secrets Anthology

Sunday Snippet: Heart’s Blood by Jeffe Kennedy from the Dark Secrets Anthology  About the Book Dark Secrets Anthology   Authors:  Rachel Caine, Cynthia Eden, Megan Hart, Suzanne Johnson, Jeffe Kennedy, and Mina Khan Publisher:   Self-published Released:  September 29, 2015 Genre:  Paranormal Romance Jeffe Kennedy contact links:   Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  All Romance, Amazon, Google Play, Kobo Snippet An except from Jeffe Kennedy’s contribution, Heart’s Blood. Fortunately, Nix saved him having to strip her out of those soaked clothes, rustling as she undressed and climbed into her bed. It didn’t save him picturing her slim, delicate body in all her naked glory, but it helped calm the fury that had gripped him at the sight of her kneeling in icy muck, white and terrified, as Natilde berated her. “Are you covered?” He asked, setting her little teapot on the grate to boil. “Y-yes.” He set his teeth at the sound of hers chattering. Taking a deep breath, he turned to find her tucked in the corner of her bed, dwarfed by the mound of blankets pulled up around her so only her piquant face showed, framed by the fall of her ivory hair. Sitting beside her, he chaffed her arms through the covers. “I’m brewing tea for you. You’ll drink it and then you’ll tell me what is going on between you and Princess Natilde.” Her enormous blue eyes darkened and swam with tears she didn’t shed. “Your Highness—please, no. There’s nothing to know. The princess was simply angry that I took her horse. I won’t do it again.” That wasn’t it. Obviously it wasn’t, as Natilde hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the horses since she arrived. “Talk to me, Nix. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth.” “That is the truth.” “You’re lying to me. So is she. Why?” “Please, Cavan.” Nix leaned in beseeching him, seeming unaware that she’d used his name so familiarly. “You can help me by leaving me alone. You shouldn’t be here, talking to me.” “You seem to forget that this is my castle, my kingdom and—after my father and the High King—only I decide what I shouldn’t do.” She jerked back, a frustrated refusal that revealed a surprising glint of temper. The movement caused a lock of her hair to fall across his hand, a sensuous glide of silk. He wrapped it around his finger, somehow unable to help himself, mesmerized by the almost magical whiteness of it against his sun-darkened skin, the seductive texture. She made a small sound...
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Sep
27

Sunday Snippet: Autumn Moon by Jan DeLima

Sunday Snippet: Autumn Moon by Jan DeLima  About the Book Autumn Moon   Author:  Jan DeLima Publisher:   Ace Released:  September 29, 2015 Series:   Celtic Wolves #3 Genre:  Paranormal Romance Author contact links:   Facebook, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million REVIEW HERE Snippet Too wired to sleep, Elen opened the wine and poured a glass, sipping quietly as she walked over to the bed. Cormack slept above the coverlet and on his back, with one arm raised over his head, while the other rested by his side. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he wore jeans but no shirt, as if he’d just rested his head and sleep claimed him first. His chest rose and fell with even breaths. She was not one to marvel over physical attributes, but this was Cormack, and his body was meant for pleasure, like a goddess had molded him for her personal divine gratification. His frame was large, and toned, with wide shoulders and a firm chest that tapered down to his hips. His hardened stomach would provide the perfect friction were she to ride him just like this. And as that image flooded her mind, another, more wicked one, followed. It was greedy and selfish, but all her niceness had been used up for the day. He looked peaceful and innocent, but the man was practically immortal after all. Their kind did not die from lack of sleep. They might go mad, of course, but that took a few weeks. And had he not said, do with me as you will? She needed to touch him. That was all. Well, no, she wanted more, but for now that would do. Taking a sip of her wine, she gently set the glass on an end table, and gave into temptation. Starting by his heart, she brushed lightly across his chest, tracing down the indent between and lingering on the valleys and curves of his muscles. Flattening her hand over his stomach, she felt the soft hair that began just above the waistband of his jeans and disappeared below. She had never seen him in this restful state, at least not in his human form, and took in her ravenous fill. Her hand lingered over the button of his jeans. She swallowed, wanting . . . Oh, how she wanted. She burned like molten earth, fed by a need that had been denied for too long. Even now she felt her body moisten and swell just from...
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Sep
20

Sunday Snippet: Dance with the Devil by Angela Dennis

Sunday Snippet: Dance with the Devil by Angela Dennis  About the Book Dance with the Devil   Author:  Angela Dennis Publisher:   Samhaim Publishing Released:  September 22, 2015 Series:   Soul’s Harbor Pride #1 Genre:  Paranormal Romance Author contact links:   Blog, Facebook, Goodreads, Pinterest, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  All Romance eBooks, Amazon AU, Amazon CA, Amazon UK, Amazon US, Barnes ‘N Noble, Google Books, iTunes, Kobo, Samhaim Snippet Carrick crossed the distance between them, his powerful stride quickly closing the gap. When he stopped, he was so close Jillian could feel his breath hot against her forehead. She trembled even before he smoothed his hands across her shoulders. Her mouth went dry. As he bent down so they were eye to eye, need sizzled in her belly. He stared at her, an indiscernible expression on his face. “I don’t know if I’m coming back.” For the first time since she’d met him, he smelled of uncertainty. Jillian pressed her hand against his cheek, overwhelmed with the need to reassure him. He hadn’t shaved, and his beard stubble was rough against her palm. “Tell me,” she breathed. For a moment, he leaned into her embrace. His eyes slipped closed and a long breath drifted from his lips. “I can’t.” Tearing away from her, he prowled across the room like a caged animal. She could feel his beast leaping beneath his skin. The pain in his eyes ripped at her heart. She was pretty sure what was wrong. Every five years, the Prides gathered by order of the Conclave. Even the prodigal children were called back. The Elders left nothing to chance, ordering the shamans to send forth a compulsion spell, cloaked in an invitation. Fighting it wasn’t just painful, it was useless. If you didn’t heed the call, the enforcers were sent to bring you back by force. Some Prides took advantage of the summons to hold a Claiming, but never hers. Her father preferred to do his Claimings in secret, hand-picking the participants. Or he had, until now. Jillian moved across the converted warehouse. Even though it was sparsely furnished, the space had a warm touch to it. Several colorful area rugs covered the concrete floors alongside a smattering of brown leather furniture, high tables and barstools. Carrick had stopped beside the bar, one hand on his hip, the other resting on the mahogany surface. The urge to confess and tell him she understood lay heavy on her heart. And she would have done it, if it wouldn’t have added to...
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Sep
13

Sunday Snippet: Delayed Penalty by Sophia Henry

Sunday Snippet: Delayed Penalty by Sophia Henry  About the Book Delayed Penalty   Author:  Sophia Henry Publisher:   Random House Flirt Released:  September 1, 2015 Genre:  New Adult Hockey Romance Series:  Pilots Hockey #1 Author contact links:   Email, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, Google Play,  iBooks, Kobo Snippet “I hope you don’t think you’re going to sit on your butt your whole break,” Grandpa said. He punctuated his sentence with a quick snap of his newspaper. He’d done it to lift a falling corner, but he may as well have cracked an invisible whip. “Come on, Dedushka,” I said, stopping my arm midair and lifting my tired eyes from the milk dripping off the spoon to his customary stern face. “I just got home yesterday.” “And you start your job today.” His steel blue eyes caught mine before returning to the paper. “Funny. I don’t remember interviewing.” I smirked, then shoveled the spoonful of soggy cereal into my mouth. “Oh, how I’ve missed your smart mouth, Auden,” he said without even looking up. Though I would be home for less than a month, living with my grandparents again would be rough. After my first taste of freedom living in the dorms freshman year, going back to Hawk-eye Land will be a challenge. All my life I had wished I’d had a sibling, but the yearning was never so prominent as when I came home from school. It had been fourteen years since my mom died. Fourteen years of being the only person my grandparents had to worry about. While I appreciated the motive behind their undivided attention, I’d always wanted someone who understood my rants about their constant hovering. Someone to talk with and share silly inside jokes. Since my well-being was my grandparents’ first priority, they were always on my case. It would’ve been nice to have a sibling to pick up some of the slack. I never wanted to sound ungrateful for what they’d done for me, but sometimes I needed a break. “What kind of job is it?” I asked, keeping any smart-mouth comments to myself. Didn’t feel like ticking him off today. “Translating.” Grandpa folded the newspaper into a rectangle and set it next to his Not only perfect, but Russian, too coffee mug. My grandfather, Viktor Berezin, was a retired Russian language professor at a state university outside of Detroit. He’d taken on various translating jobs for friends and coworkers his whole life and had set me...
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Sep
6

Sunday Snippet: No Magic Moment by Angel Payne and Victoria Blue

Sunday Snippet: No Magic Moment by Angel Payne and Victoria Blue  About the Book No Magic Moment    Author:  Angel Payne and Victoria Blue Publisher:   Fin Mint Publishing Released:  September 7, 2015 Series:   The Secrets of Stone #4 Genre:  (Steamy) Contemporary Romance Angel Payne Contact links:   Facebook, Goodreads, Newsletter, Pinterest, Twitter, Website  Victoria Blue Contact links:  Facebook, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Amazon AU, Amazon UK, Amazon, US, iTunes Snippet As I settled into a small booth in the back of the restaurant, my cell vibrated. The name in the window drilled my jaw with tension. Killian Stone. For another two seconds, I wavered my thumb over the green button. Why I even considered the red one was a mystery. Fruitless cause, man. The man didn’t carve time out of his Saturday night, especially at this hour, to ring up a buddy to shoot the shit. Whether he called on his own or at Margaux’s request, I wasn’t going to get out of this. The green button it was. Dammit. “Mr. Stone.” “Mr. Pearson.” “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Killian chuckled. “You serious about that?” I lifted a smile at the waitress as she brought my coffee. Dropped it as soon as she left. “I was hoping to be.” His heavy exhalation filled the line. “Claire and I were in bed. She was looking for a new book to read but a swarm of celeb gossip alerts blew up her feed. You know what they say about the vultures.” “Yeah.” I’d learned the back end of that one during my first week in corporate PR clean-up. “Can’t dodge their shit if you don’t know where they’re circling.” “And some nights they like to circle longer.” I blew on my coffee, instantly recognizing the action as habit rather than practicality. No way would I be dumping the shit into the acid pond of my gut now. “So it’s the Michael Pearson feeding frenzy for San Diego’s rag sites tonight?” “San Diego?” he countered. “Dude, your little fireworks show at the Del has already been picked up by the national feeds. I think TMZ’s leading with you tomorrow.” I raked a hand through my hair. “Wonderful.” “That’s one way of putting it.” “As long as I’m prettier than Kanye, right?” “Oh, you’re pretty, all right. Must be that combination of model perfection and animal rage. Last time I checked, a few thousand women were posting about how to get into your pants.” “Access to my pants is controlled by one hell of...
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Aug
30

Sunday Snippet: Married Sex by Jesse Kornbluth

Sunday Snippet: Married Sex by Jesse Kornbluth  About the Book Married Sex  Author:  Jesse Kornbluth Publisher:   Open Road Media, Inc. Released:  August 25, 2015 Genre:  Contemporary Romance Author contact links:   Bio, Facebook, Website, Youtube Trailer Purchase links:  Amazon, Open Road Media Snippet “You want to get divorced—why?” It’s the first thing I ask new clients. Not out of curiosity, or to help me build their cases, but because . . . maybe they shouldn’t. Most matrimonial lawyers, like most other professionals, choose their trade for the fees. Clients enter, on a conveyor belt, married; they leave, sheared of a few illusions, divorced. The trick is to make that happen in the greatest number of billable hours but with the fewest possible strokes. Some matrimonial lawyers still have ideals. They’ll get you unhitched, but first they’ll test you to see if there’s still life in your marriage. Like first-stage marriage counselors. I’m in that group. I listen to my clients’ stories, and when I hear descriptions of marriages that are retrievable, I encourage these women to try couples therapy. They wonder why. The husband doesn’t listen, he has disgusting habits, he pays no attention to the kids, how can anyone stay married to a man like this? Yes, I say, he’s a slob, a jerk. But please notice there’s something you don’t complain about, and that’s sex. If you’re still having sex, you can save the marriage. If the sex has gone, it’s over. A woman laments that her husband has become her “best friend,” and the euphemism tells me all I need to know. “Friend” is what’s left when the sex goes. So that’s a dead marriage. A woman says she’s learned to schedule her husband’s desire for sex: “one night on, two nights off.” She doesn’t need to say more. For her, sex is an obligation that can’t be ignored but can be managed. And that’s a dead marriage. A woman complains that her husband has a lover, but she doesn’t complain about the lover to him, or get interested in his interests, or buy hot lingerie. For her, it’s a relief that he strays. Another dead marriage. And then there’s roommate marriage. Victoria calls this condition “low batt,” meaning low sexual battery, no erotic sparks. The husband’s nights are about the flat screen; weekends mean the golf course. His wife? A client told me, speaking for many, “No man has ever given me as much pleasure as I get slapping my Amex card down on a...
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Aug
23

Sunday Snippet: Nothing Serious by Jessica Jarman

Sunday Snippet: Nothing Serious by Jessica Jarman About the Book Nothing Serious    Author:  Jessica Jarman Publisher:   Self-published Released:  August 26, 2015 Series:   Bound #4 Genre:  Contemporary Romance, LGBTQ Author contact links: Website : Blog : Facebook : Twitter : Tumblr : Goodreads Heads up… today’s Snippet is extra hot and more NSFW than usual! Enjoy! Snippet “What are you doing here, Aaron?” Jack sighed, shutting the door before crossing to the desk, with the intent to ring the front desk about a cab for the drunken idiot. “I’m here for the sex, Jack. The ssssseeeeexx.” Aaron flopped back, arms spread, onto the mattress. “Though, I don’t know if it’s angry sex or make-up sex. Honestly, it’s hard to keep up with you and this…whatever it is between us.” He lifted his head slightly as his confused frown morphed into a cheeky grin. “F**k, I don’t care. Both are acceptable. Come on, then, time for the sex.” “You’re sloshed.” “Drunk sex, it is!” He sat up quickly and yanked off his t-shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Then, rising to his feet, he fumbled with his belt as he toed off his trainers. Jack stepped forward then stopped, because all he really wanted to do was dip his head and press his mouth to Aaron’s chest, map the ridges, slide his tongue along every tempting line of the man’s body. And that was not going to happen. Not until they talked s**t out. And clearly, that wasn’t going to be happening tonight, either. “Aaron,” he snapped, hands fisted at his side as he fought the urge to touch. “Put your f**king clothes back on.” Aaron lifted his head, having ducked down to look at the belt that was apparently giving him problems. His brow was furrowed as he ran his gaze over Jack from head to toes. “You get your f**king clothes back off,” he retorted, returning his attention to the buckle. Shaking his head, amusement bleeding through the annoyance, Jack closed the space between them and plucked the shirt off the floor. After quickly pulling it over Aaron’s head, he tried to take hold of the other man’s wrist, determined to get him dressed even if he had to resort to treating him like a child. And child was the appropriate word, he thought as Aaron smacked Jack’s hand and angled his body away. “Stop it,” he said petulantly. “We’re going to do the sex, Jack. We’re going to, because all the other stuff is too f**king— Yes! Finally!” he crowed as...
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Aug
16

Sunday Snippet: I Wish for You by Camilla Isley

Sunday Snippet: I Wish for You by Camilla Isley  About the Book I Wish for You   Author:  Camilla Isley Publisher:   Indie Author Released:  July 23, 2015 Genre:  Contemporary, Romantic Comedy, Magical Realism, Adult Author contact links:   Facebook, Goodreads, Pinterest, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Amazon, Barnes ‘N Noble, Google Play, iBooks, Kobo Snippet – CHAPTER ONE – The Day After I abruptly wake up thanks to the racking sound of my alarm clock piercing deeply into my skull. I come to a sitting position and silence the damn thing, slamming my right hand on the off button. My head is spinning, I feel kind of ill, and as soon as my comatose brain regains consciousness I remember why, which definitely isn’t a good thing. In fact, as my memory comes back I experience a stream of increasingly awful emotions. It starts with a choking pain, immediately followed by fear, anguish, and a strong wave of nausea. Ouch, heartbreak sucks! I lie back on the pillows trying to abate my squeamishness. Sugar, my black and white rescue cat, decides this is a good moment to jump on my belly meowing for his breakfast. “Not now, baby.” I say, pushing him aside. “I need five minutes before I get up.” No. No. No. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go into work either, not today, please, not after what happened. I’m not ready for it. I will look awful, and I’m being optimistic. I spent the whole night crying, my eyes are going to be horrendously red and puffy, and my skin will probably be ghastly, in-between a putrid mustard and greenish coloring. There will be no mistaking my utter state of distraught. Damn! I can already picture the evil grin of triumph on her face. Of course she’s going to mask it as one of her best I-want-world-peace beauty pageant smiling faces, pretending nothing’s wrong. Don’t you hate it when you know someone to be vicious, but you’re the only one who can see it since he or she always pretends to be the most kind and caring person in the world? Well, she’s the kind of two-faced poser that manages to make you feel like the wrongdoer even when it’s her delivering a sucker punch to your stomach. She does it with such grace and poise that you don’t even feel entitled to argue or be angry. I have a horrible feeling she knows exactly how badly this hurts for me. Now that I think about...
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Aug
9

Sunday Snippet: Master of the Opera by Jeffe Kennedy

Sunday Snippet: Master of the Opera by Jeffe Kennedy  About the Book Master of the Opera  Author:  Jeffe Kennedy Publisher:  Kensington Released:  August 1, 2015 Genre:  Erotic Contemporary Romance Author contact links:   Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Booksamillion Snippet There it was again. A whisper of song. A honeyed tenor. Curious, compelled, she followed it down the corridor, passing the various storage rooms, holding their eclectic treasures in darkness. The hallway ended abruptly in a dead end, a good thirty feet past the last lightbulb. Christy consulted her map in the dim light. If this was the right level, the hall should keep going to another set of storage rooms. It didn’t. She retraced her steps, frowning at the map, then at the end of the hall again. The featureless wall hadn’t changed. Had the door been covered over or sealed? She set the map and inventory notebook down and walked back to the end of the hall, ran her hands over it. Not drywall, but solid plaster, cool and damp to the touch. If it had been closed off, it didn’t seem to be recent. Her fingertips caught on a small flaw in the smooth surface and she bent to see it better in the shadowy green light. A circle cut into the plaster, with what appeared to be a set of links dangling from it, like a collar and chain. It was crossed by a whip, the braided design painstakingly worked in. She gasped, then swallowed it, glad no one had heard her. She glanced around, uncannily convinced that someone watched, listened. Unable to help herself, she traced the emblem with her nail, wondering what it meant and why it was here. And why something about it thrilled her, sent her blood percolating with intrigue and a desire to know more. Along with a strange familiarity. A breath of cold air swept across the back of her neck again, and she stood abruptly, spinning on her heels and putting her back to the wall. Nothing. No one was there. And yet … that tenor voice, golden and sweet, sang somewhere far in the distance, too distant for her to make out the melody, but the notes strummed across her stimulated nerves, soothing and arousing. She wanted to find it, to hear it better. The song ended in a soft laugh. And then a whisper. Christine.  ...
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Aug
2

Sunday Snippet: The Demon’s Grave by E.M. MacCallum

Sunday Snippet: The Demon’s Grave by E.M. MacCallum  About the Book The Demon’s Grave   Author:  E.M. MacCallum Publisher:   Self-published Released:  June 2015 Series:   The Demon’s Grave Trilogy #1 Genre:  Urban Fantasy Author contact links:   Amazon, Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, Website Purchase links:  Amazon, Barnes ‘N Noble, Goodreads, Kobo, Smashwords Snippet   “Aidan,” I insisted in a whisper. A few car lengths north of the Chevy a stereo crackled to life. An echoing voice sang followed by a choir of voices that doo de doo’ed in the background. The slow song sounded like something from the 1950’s. Read and I exchanged a curious glance as the echoing main voice mentioned a game. Read pulled his hand from mine and we both wiped our slick palms on our jeans. “What is it?” I asked Aidan. “What should we be looking for?” He didn’t answer, his eyes kept wandering to the cars then down the street and to the motorbikes. Read’s shoulders sagged, exasperated. He looked ready to say something when the roar of an engine smothered the music as well as my yelp. It stopped Read cold. Aidan jumped and grabbed my arm as if I were the one to save him. Craning my neck to see if there was a single vehicle taking up the roadway, I saw none. It had been so loud I couldn’t pinpoint the direction it came from. The music began to take over the street once more, a new song erupting from the crackling speakers. Between shallow breaths, Aidan said, “come on.” Before Read or I could question him, Aidan stood up and started in long, purposeful strides, the kind that was harder to stop. Read nudged me to move, or rather shoved me. Panicked, we hurried to Aidan. Looking to him, our pace quickened to keep up. Aidan stared straight ahead. His lean figure was rigid, but he hadn’t slowed. Keeping close to the buildings, we passed the occupied car playing music. I could see three teenage boys inside. The muffled vintage music carried through the window. I felt the scream choke in my throat as we passed. The passengers didn’t have eyes. Their shapeless pale faces lacked not only the eyes but also mouths. The skin where lips should be had stretched horizontally, sealing any opening. The only portion of their faces that was noticeable was the lump of their nose—without nostrils. Even their hair was all the same color, styled the same, with a part in the middle, and they wore...
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