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Release Blitz: Billionaire’s Fake Fiance by Claire Adams

Time is running out.
My mother only has 6 months to live, and I’m desperate.
I need to make her dream come true…seeing me get married.
I know it’s crazy. I’m a billionaire. I’m a player. I don’t want a wife.
But, I need to make this happen for her.
That’s where Maddie comes in.
She’s my childhood friend, a struggling actress and so incredibly hot.
Maddie’s perfect for the role of my love interest.
It doesn’t hurt that she wants to help me fulfill my mother’s dream.
However, she may come at a price that’s more than the half a million dollars for her service.

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Release Blitz: Wicked Grind by J. Kenner

by J. Kenner

WickedGrind_Ecover_FINAL_RSometimes it feels so damn good to be bad

Photographer Wyatt Royce’s career is on the verge of exploding. All he needs is one perfect model to be the centerpiece of his sexy, controversial show. Find her, and Wyatt is sure to have a winner.

Then Kelsey Draper walks in. Stunning. Vibrant. And far too fragile for a project like this. Wyatt should know—after all, he remembers only too well why their relationship ended all those years ago.

Determined to break free from her good girl persona, Kelsey wants spice. Adventure. And she’s certain that Wyatt is just the man to help.

But when Wyatt agrees to give her the job only if he has complete control—on camera and in his bed—Kelsey can’t help but wonder if she’s in too deep. Because how can a good girl like her ever be enough for a man like Wyatt?

All Wicked novels stand alone

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She was driving him crazy.

The way she held his eyes while she moved, so bold and flirtatious, as if she was just daring him to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

Daring him? No, strike that. She wasn’t just daring him, she was throwing down a goddamned gauntlet. But was she challenging him to claim her? Or was she goading him that he couldn’t have her?

Damned if he knew. Right then, Wyatt was certain of only one thing—his body was tight, his cock was hard, and he wanted to be somewhere other than here. Someplace without other people.

Someplace with a bed.

It was the dancing that did it. Because Kelsey Draper and her dancing had always been his downfall. After all, that was what had started everything all those years ago. He’d seen her dancing to a bouncy pop song, her interpretation elevating the music and lyrics. He’d seen passion and precision, sensuality and seduction. She’d enchanted him. Cast a spell over him.

He’d seen the magic in her, so much larger than the quiet, subdued girl he’d met before. The Kelsey he’d watched dancing had surprised him. She was vibrant. Alive. Unexpected.

He’d fallen hard, and then she’d broken his heart.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

He might want her—hell, he did want her. For his bed. For his show.

But he damn sure wasn’t going to trust her. He’d already learned that lesson, and he really didn’t need a refresher course.

As he watched, she dropped to the floor, then used one hand to rip open her shirt before letting it fall down her arms. She writhed on stage, her seductive movements making him ache inside, all the more when he imagined taking it further. Her wrists bound not with a tattered blouse, but with silk ropes. And not just her wrists, but her legs as well. Red ropes, the only color in an otherwise black and white image. Her body twisting, and the audience unsure if she was fighting the bonds or reveling in her own rising passion.

She was exactly what he needed for the show. The complete package. Hell, he’d known that from the moment she’d walked into his studio.

So why was he hesitating?

Because he wanted her?

Or was it because he wanted to punish her?

Or maybe it was even more insidious than that. Maybe it came down to how much was riding on this show. It was his shot, after all. The apex of all his work and sacrifice. The chance to escape from under the black cloud his father had left hanging over him.

The chance to prove himself to his family.

To live up to the goddamn Segel name.

But that would only happen if the show was a success.

So maybe that was why he was hesitating. Because the moment he committed was the moment the truth crept toward him on little cat paws, and it would either curl up and purr, or rip his heart out.

On stage, Kelsey rose, then did some sort of pirouette, twirling as she pulled off one of those transparent, colored scarves that served as a barely-there skirt. Wyatt imagined his hands on her waist, the brush of her skin against his palms as she spun. He could imagine her heat. The way she shivered under his touch.

So help him, he wanted that. Wanted to hear her sighs. Those little moans he remembered.

Another scarf went flying, and he straightened so that he was no longer leaning against the pillar. Instead, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he tried to tamp down the rising lust. The violent need. To not only have her, but to have her in his show.

He wanted her, yes. But she was an indulgence he couldn’t justify. An indulgence and a risk, because he knew damn well that she’d run if things got too intense.

And damn but his show was intense. That was the point, after all.

He couldn’t take a chance on her, no matter how much he might want to. Couldn’t even bring her in only long enough to test her out. Not on such a tight schedule. Not when there was no way to ensure that she wouldn’t bolt.

Kelsey was a risk he simply couldn’t take. He had to get it right. There was too much at stake for him to be wrong about her.

The final scarf fluttered to the ground, and Wyatt’s pulse pounded in his throat as he moved closer, his mouth going dry as she reached for her bra, pulled it over her head, then tossed it aside.

The music faded out, and the dim, colored stage lights made the flesh-colored G-string blend into her pale skin, enhancing the illusion that she now stood before the entire room not just topless, but one hundred percent, birthday-suit naked.

She took a bow as the lights came up, and the men in the audience actually stood to applaud her. She’d blown away the competition, and even though Wyatt wanted to rush the stage and wrap his jacket around her, he couldn’t deny the swell of pride he felt for her victory.

 

julie-j-kenner-author-photoJ.Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.

Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.

JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A five time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy). Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development with AwesomenessTV/Awestruck.

Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.

In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | YouTube | Amazon Author Page

Release Blitz: Reckoning by Shana Figueroa

by Shana Figueroa

RECKONING by Shana Figueroa (July 11, 2017; Forever Yours eBook; $4.99; Valentine Shepherd Book 3)

Hell hath no fury like Valentine . . .

 

Five years. It’s been five years of blissful peace for private eye Valentine Shepherd and her hot-ass husband, Max Carressa. Five years of watching their twins grow up healthy and happy, even as Val waits for Hell to unleash its fury. Her enemies have been planning, and Val knows she doesn’t have nearly enough weapons to protect her family . . .

 

Yet Val and Max have one advantage—their insatiable desire for each other allows them to see into the future, and the visions they share may just give them a chance. But as events are set into motion that endanger everyone Val’s ever loved, she’ll do whatever it takes to stop the horror she’s already seen—even if it means her end.

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Val forced herself to relax. “I need to run an errand,” she said, though it came out a little bitchier than she’d intended. She tried to tone the hostility down. “Are you…going to be okay here with them? Alone?”

Jamal nodded. “Yes, ma’am—Val—uh, ma’am.”

She took a step toward the door, then turned back. “You’ve got everything you need, right? Their nap schedules, their favorite books, their lunch and snack foods—”

“Yes, I’ve got it. I wrote it all down,” he said in a gently reassuring tone. She’d need to get used to that voice, and train herself not to mistake it for condescension.

“And it’s one snack before lunch. Don’t let them trick you into giving them an entire package of Oreos. They’re more clever than you might think.”

“Oreos on lockdown. Clear as crystal.”

“You remember all the codes for the locks and alarms on the house, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’ve got my number if you need anything?”

“I sure do.”

She nodded, walked to the living room’s threshold, stopped, and turned again. “Don’t let anyone in here who isn’t Max or me, no matter who they say they are. I mean it.”

Jamal smiled again—he did that a lot, maybe because he had nice teeth—though a hint of uncertainty tainted his friendly gaze. Probably wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. “Yes, ma’—Val. I won’t let anyone in.”

“No one.”

“Got it. No one’s coming through that front door, not on my watch.”

She should’ve left then; instead, she stared at him until a bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

Simon broke the standoff. “We’ll be fine, Mommy. Go talk to the cop.”

Val softened a bit at that. If Simon knew he and his sister would be fine, then they’d be fine. As long as she didn’t inadvertently change the future, what he’d seen would come to pass. Val embraced them both in long hugs, kissing their foreheads. She thought they might cry when she left; they didn’t. They knew they’d see her again soon. Still, when Val walked to the door leading down to the carport and grasped the doorknob, she saw her hand shaking. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to her babies while she left them with an overpriced babysitter. Would they really be safe without her? They’d have to be. Max was right—she couldn’t be with them all the time. She’d have to trust other people eventually, and that time was now. God help Jamal if he screwed it up, though.

Swallowing back a lump in her throat, Val forced herself forward, away from her children, into her car, out of the house, and back into the world she’d been hiding from for over five years. Tendrils from its black underbelly would likely rise up and try to seize her again. But there was no way around it if she wanted any chance to save her mother.

Time to go see the cop.

 

Shana Figueroa is a published author who specializes in romance and humor, with occasional sojourns into horror, sci-fi, and literary fiction.

She lives in Massachusetts with her husband, two young daughters, and two old pugs. She enjoys reading, writing (obviously), martial arts, video games, and SCIENCE—it’s poetry in motion! By day, she serves her country in the US Air Force as an aerospace engineer. By night, she hunkers down in a corner and cranks out the crazy stories lurking in her head.

 

She took Toni Morrison’s advice and started writing the books she wanted to read. Hopefully you’ll want to read them, too!

www.shanafigueroa.com

www.facebook.com/shanafigueroaauthor

www.twitter.com/shana_figueroa

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