Release Blitz: It Takes a Cat Burglar… By: Cailin Briste

It Takes a Cat Burglar: A Thief in Love Suspense Romance

By Cailin Briste

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https://www.amazon.com/Cailin-Briste/e/B00GSX9QVW/

On Amazon for $2.99 and in Kindle Unlimited for FREE

Add it on Goodreads.

Blurb:

When Darcelle Lebeau throws off the invisible chains that keep her bound to her family, she discovers a new vocation. Tempted to enter the illegal playground of a man she nicknames Matou, she becomes a cat burglar in training. Deeply ensnared with each task he entices her to fulfill, she fails to discover his identity and true intentions.

 

Sebastian St. Croix, a wealthy businessman, has a dark side. He’s a thief, a cat burglar who steals art and historical objects. For one year, he trains Darcelle to become his assistant, remaining incognito, observing her from afar. His admiration grows along with his desire for her with every phase-one challenge she completes. Phase two will test the limits of his control. Hands-on personal training? Yes. Sex? No. With his sister’s happiness at stake, nothing, not even the tempting Darcelle Lebeau, can interfere with accomplishing the biggest break-in of his career.

Excerpt:

Darcelle’s reflection stared back at her from the solid mirror that covered the side of the Jepsen Building where she hung, suspended twelve hundred feet above the city sidewalk. Anger and determination filled the charcoal-gray eyes of her mirror image. Even as an infant, the darkness integral to her nature must have peered out of round, solemn baby eyes that weren’t the expected dark brown of her mother and father or the amber of her twin sister. No, she’d been born with eyes best described as a grayish mist. With each passing year, they’d grown darker. Someday they might rival the night sky that tonight was a wash of black pushed back by the ineffectual streetlights below and the pale serenity of a waning moon. The skull cap she wore covered the braids she’d used to tame her masses of kinky cinnamon curls.

 

No breeze stirred the night air, for which she was thankful. The micro-cable anchored to the sidewalk didn’t allow for much sway as the winch above pulled her higher. The noise of traffic wafted up like a soundtrack to another reality.

She swung a leg over the ledge surrounding the roof of the building. Sunrise was less than an hour away, but for now, the wealthy residents of the Jepsen slept below her, convinced that the security they spent thousands of credits on created an impenetrable barrier around them. She smirked, satisfied she was about to prove them wrong. The latest antiskimmer technology may prevent aircars from landing, but it didn’t keep out birds or, as in her case, people who avoided the domed security field by slipping under it at the edge of the building’s roof.

 

Security plans always had holes. Her day job at the Art et Antiquités Institut de la Sécurité was to close those she discovered in her client’s protection profiles, or at least render them too small to be exploited. Your average cat burglar couldn’t accomplish what she was attempting. The mirrored facade of the building resisted any attachments, so any of the standard slick surface anchors were worthless, as were the nonslip soles of her shoes. It was worse than trying to climb on ice.

Over the last year Darcelle had honed her skills to surpass those of the typical thief. The instructions she received before each job had included training exercises and detailed steps for committing each robbery. It was as though she was being mentored by a master thief, a man she’d never seen much less met or spoken with. Notes were his sole means of communication, written in a flowing script that was both masculine and artistic.

 

This was the most difficult assignment she’d received. She couldn’t land on the top of the building, she couldn’t climb the side, and attempting to penetrate through an entrance was equally impossible. Not a problem.

The surface of the roof was covered in fine-grain sand. She dropped from the ledge, squatting to avoid skidding and falling on her ass. The bands of her harness burned as though they were embedded in her skin. She snapped the releases and pulled the harness off, rubbing between her legs and over her lower butt cheeks. The painful part of this operation was over. She let the harness fall next to the winch. When the break-in was discovered, they’d find the hoist chem-sealed to the ledge of the Jepsen’s roof. Let the security guards figure that out. It hadn’t taken her long the previous night to use a gravity drone to slip it under the security field and drop it onto the ledge. The breakable containers filled with chems on the winch’s underside had smashed, allowing the contents to mix and bond the winch to the stone, and the hoist had been ready to use.

She turned, squinting across the roof at an aircar circling in the distance. Time to get indoors.

 

About Cailin:

Cailin has been writing fiction for six years and non-fiction for two decades. Her non-fiction work has been published in magazines and in a non-fiction anthology. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter, and the RWA Passionate Ink Chapter.

Cailin likes to flip convention on its head, creating a universe in which each planet is a study in different what ifs. What would happen to alpha men on a matriarchal planet? How would society handle it if girls born on their new planet developed empathic senses?

 

She is currently writing the third book in her Sons of Tallav sci-fi erotic romance series. Shane: Marshal of Tallav and Maon: Marshal of Tallav were released in 2016 by Loose Id. She’s also working on a novella for an SFR Shooting Stars anthology tentatively title Educated by the Master.

Social Media Links:

Website http://cailinbriste.com/

Blog http://cailinbriste.com/category/all-posts/

Street Team http://cailinbriste.com/cailins-street-team/

Twitter http://twitter.com/CailinBriste

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

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/102592935378667862505

Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/cailinbriste/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7413817.Cailin_Briste

Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cailin-briste

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Cailin-Briste/e/B00GSX9QVW

Newsletter http://cailinbriste.com/cailins-newsletter-sign-up/

Release Blitz for Desiring Lacey By: Erica Lynn

Desiring Lacey (A Fantasies Unmasked Novel)

By: Erica Lynn

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Release Date: May 3, 2017

Desiring Lacey – A Fantasies Unmasked Novel

Erica Lynn

 

Blurb:

Lacey Wilson is a lot of things. She’s beautiful. Sweet. A little sassy. And about to be divorced. Now, on the verge of turning thirty, she’s on a mission to find herself, both emotionally and sexually. No attachments. No baggage. No problems. But when her best friend convinces her to attend a private party, where masked men and women go to have a little anonymous fun, she finds herself staring into the eyes of the most incredible man she’s ever seen, and caution gets thrown to the wind. After all, what’s just one night? Cameron Jennings likes to keep things simple. He helps out at his father’s garage during the day, then goes home to a few beers and TV. No muss, no fuss. Until one night when he’s working as the doorman at a private party, and meets her… Once he slips the purple mask over Lacey’s eyes and gets a taste of what she has to offer, he’s done for. With Lacey on a mission to rebuild her life, and Cameron completely infatuated, will she be able to convince him they could never have a real future after the way they met? Or will he prove her wrong?

 

Excerpt:

 “What’s he doing to her?” Cameron asked as his hands made their way down to her chest, and his long fingers massaged the tops of her breasts over her dress. He applied perfect pressure, squeezing them just right, and her nipples hardened beneath his touch.

“He’s going down on her.”

Cameron chuckled and allowed his hands to travel to her waist. “Going down on her? Please. That’s what guys do when they feel it’s something they have to do. Like it’s a chore.” He removed his hands, then made his way around her chair until he was in front of her. He placed his palms on her shaking knees, his thumbs still massaging, and ran his tongue over his lips. “Open your legs?”

Lacey watched her legs tremble as she parted them slightly, allowing Cameron to slide in between them. The feel of his body and his heat against her center had her helplessly trying to grind into the chair. Anything to get some friction where she needed it most.

He leaned in until their lips almost touched, but stopped just short of kissing her. “What he’s doing, Lacey, is eating her pussy.” He ran his mouth across her cheek and to her ear, his hot breath sending chills up her spine as he spoke. “Watch him. He’s devouring her. He wants to feel every ounce of her wetness on his tongue, then he wants to swallow it down. Do you see? Can you tell the difference?”

Lacey watched, transfixed, as the man’s tongue disappeared in and out of the woman. She heard him moan as he used his fingers to fill her up. Every now and then, he’d place one of them back into his mouth and suck off her juices, then he’d grab her thighs or hips and push her down farther into his mouth. Onto his face.

“Oh!” Lacey threw her head back as Cameron used the palm of his hand to push against her center.

“Mmm…I can feel how wet you are. Tell me, baby, do you need to come?”

“Yes…yes please.” She clumsily attempted to remove her stockings, but he took her hands and placed them on the armrests.

“No need,” he grabbed the middle of her pantyhose, right above her sex, and ripped them open.

Her center throbbed from both her need and the cool air that now caressed her sensitive skin. She could feel her wetness on her inner thighs, and she attempted to rub them together to get some sort of relief, but it proved impossible with him kneeling between her legs.

Cameron leaned down and hovered just above her sex.

Her legs shook, her fingers dug into the armrests, and her hips continuously rose off the chair involuntarily. Just when she was ready to beg for him to put his mouth on her, she felt his tongue softly skate over her lips.

“Keep looking at them,” he whispered against her. “Watch them while I eat you.”

Author Info:

Erica Lynn is the author of yummy, erotic goodness. She lives in Houston, TX with her husband, daughters, and dogs. She considers the beach to be her happy place and, as fate would have it, fell in love with her husband after a day of sun and sand.

She’s a self­-proclaimed reality TV junkie, and especially loves The Real Housewives. In her few and fleeting spare moments, she loves to settle down with a nice glass of wine and a sexy book.

Social Media Links:

Facebook

Facebook Group: Erica Lynn & All Things Sexy

Twitter

Instagram

Website

Goodreads

Snapchat: MsEricaLynn85

Buy Links:

Amazon

Loose Id

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Release Blitz for Sex, Heat & Hunger Part 2 By: Whitley Cox

Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 2

The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series Book 4

Whitley Cox

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Release Day April 29th 2017

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Blurb:

From handshake to obsession…

Emma Everly only ever dreamed of meeting a man like millionaire project developer James Shaw. She never imaged she would fall in love with him, a man so intense, so dominating he radiates power and control no matter where he goes. What begins as a sex-only arrangement for pleasure becomes a heated, hungry, all-consuming obsession. James claims the keys to her heart and her mind, opening them to the wilder side of sex and bondage. But her painful history with relationships gets in the way of accepting that he finds her beautiful and worthy of love.

James is devoted to caring for Emma’s every need, but his past haunts him, too. Guarded and evasive, he avoids Emma’s questions, unwilling to divulge his secrets. She knows the only way to truly earn James’ trust and get him to open his heart is to show him just how committed she is. Despite her lingering fears and people determined to tear them apart, can she go all-in and give herself entirely to him, body and soul?

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Excerpt

Turning around and taking me in his arms, he kissed me soundly, his tongue wasting no time with formalities and wedging its way between my lips, savouring me, tasting me. I tasted him in return, whimpering slightly as the rush of need ran rampant through me. I wilted against him and let his big hands cradle my back, arching me against him so I could feel just how much me missed me.

“Hi,” I managed to say after I caught my breath, James’ cobalt eyes twinkling with love. I ran my hands up and into his hair, pulling ever so slightly on the dark silky strands.

He growled low and manly. “God, I missed you.” His lips against my neck, peppered kisses up one side and down the other.

“I missed you too.” I put the grocery bag up on the counter and went over to peek inside the oven; it was chicken parmesan —yum. “I thought we were just going to take my parents out for dinner tonight, and then maybe eat in tomorrow night. You said you had to work late.”

He lifted one sexy shoulder. “Yeah, I know, but I worked so much over the last three days that I’m just drained, and I want to make a good impression on your folks. And I’m dying to fuck you. Serious blue-balls here.” He pinned me against the counter with his hard body. “It’s been a long hard week. Very hard, if you get my drift. And you smell so damn good.” He thrust his hips into mine, deftly rotating them, my eyes closed from the delicious friction against my clit. Even with layers of clothes between us, the man drove me wild, made me swoon, made me yearn to yield to him. “Do we have time for a quickie before they get here?” He wiggled his eyebrows and then tilted his head down to nip at my neck.

“Probably not.” I pouted. “They’ll be here any minute. Are you nervous?” I reluctantly pushed out of his grasp and started putting the groceries away in the fridge.

“No. Well, maybe a little. I haven’t really done the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing before, and I really want them to like me. I’m kind of in love with their daughter, you know? Besotted in fact.” I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. “Oh yeah…” He nodded. “I bought a Word of the Day Calendar, I need to keep up with your verbose loquacity, and today’s word was besotted.

He poured a glass of Zinfandel and handed it to me as I giggled at his use of the new word, his playful grin making my knees weak and my core tighten in need.

“I know.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my toes, so I was eye level with his mouth. “They’ll love you, don’t worry. And I’m besotted with you too.”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I looked at the clock on the microwave,  it said six thirty —show time!

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About the Author

Whitley Cox is an English Major turned Psych Major, who after all was said and done came out with a B.A. in Psychology, and then subsequently moved to Indonesia to teach English. But after finding out that the school was not on the up and up (when Immigration came to scope out the teachers she was forced to hide in a closet because the school had not actually purchased a work permit for her), she broke her contract and took off traveling. Only to then return home and start working with children on the Autism spectrum as an intervention therapist, and begin writing her first book.

A West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart and together they have a spirited toddler and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.

A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role playing, these books have everything we need to satisfy the curious kink in all of us.

Social Media Links

Facebook

Website

Blog

Twitter

Instagram

Newsletter

Street Team

Buy Links

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/Sex-Heat-Hunger-Damaged-Hearts-ebook/dp/B06XX4292T/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1491322372&sr=8-2&keywords=sex+heat+and+hunger

iTunes

https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/sex-heat-and-hunger-part-2/id1220723715?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

B&N

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sex-heat-and-hunger-whitley-cox/1126067598?ean=2940154348130

Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/sex-heat-and-hunger-part-2

Google Play

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Whitley_Cox_Sex_Heat_and_Hunger?id=YlmwDgAAQBAJ&hl=en

 

 

 

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This Radio Love By: Misti Murphy Cover Reveal


Title: This Radio Love 
Author: Misti Murphy 
Model: Cam Bruckman

Photographer: Kruse Images & Photography: Models & Boudoir

Cover Designer : Clarissa Wild


 


 
 
This is Doctor Love, your bad boy of the airwaves.
Think you know everything about sex, love, and dating?
 
You don’t.
 
That’s why you come to me. I’ve got your answers, Stalker Girl. I’ve got what you need. Right here, behind this zipper. You don’t want Mister Perfect. You want me. My voice, my filthy words tonguing your ear. And I’ve been dying to give it to you.
You’ve been all I can think about. And now that I know who you are, now that I know what you want, I’m going to make you fall for more than my voice on your radio. Think you can handle me?
 
I, Penny Morgan, career driven, self-confessed good girl, wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on earth. So what if I’m addicted to calling you? So what if you caught me getting off to the sound of your voice?
I never date misogynistic pigs. I don’t fall for men who try to trick me. And the last thing I want is the world in on our secret. I know who you are now, Doctor Love, and if the public found out I was your Stalker Girl it would ruin us.
 
 
 
 
 
Misti Murphy is a sadistic b*tch who loves to emotionally torture fictional people. If she did that in real life she’d probably end up in prison or a psych ward so she prefers to create dirty talking alphas and the sexually frustrated women who fall into their beds. And if someone needs to be smacked upside the head before f*cking turns to love then that makes her very happy indeed. 
She’s a huge believer in flaws making us human, and that not everyone likes bacon. She’s also addicted to chocolate and scared of the effects of the coming shortage. She swears like a f*cking trooper, and thinks that graphic smuttiness should be as real in fiction as it is in real life. 
When she’s not writing she’s the perfect housewife and mother. Ha bloody ha! When she’s not writing she’s hiding in a cupboard with her kindle, scoffing chocolate, and stalking facebook.  
 
 
 
 

Color of Love Blog Hop

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I’m an author who writes interracial novellas and short stories. I am a fan of a happily ever after and the kind of romance that consumes your soul with fire and make your cry with emotion once the last page of the book is reached.
For me love stories are extra special, but it is even better when we focus on those couples who already have it hard in the real world, why can’t they have a story that showcases their love and their lives as well?

My current novella which will be out on December 30, 2016. My characters Kasi (A Black Woman)  and Jae (A Korean Man) go through their trials to find love in each other and I hope that when it does come out, it will be enjoyed!
Now there are plenty of people (my fave authors) who writes interracial stories, some of who is a part of this blog hop!
Love is in the air especially during the holidays, and I wish you all the happiest of days with lots and lots of love!!!

We are celebrating multicultural and interracial love, so if you enjoy romance novels featuring people of color, then keep reading.

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Grand Prizes

  • 1st prize $75 GC + 7 ebooks
  • 2nd prize $50 GC + 7 ebooks
  • 3rd prize $30 GC + 7 ebooks
  • 4th prize $15 GC + 7 ebooks
  • 5th prize $10 GC + 7 ebooks
  • 6th prize $5 GC + 7 ebooks

Here is the Rafflecopter!!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Color of Love Blog Hop

(Click Below to Find the Others participating in this Blog Hop)

 

Release Blitz for DRIFTER by Janine Infante Bosco

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DRIFTER

by Janine Infante Bosco
Nomad Series #1
Publication Date: November 8, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense

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DRIFTER BUY LINKS!

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Synopsis: “Stryker”
I’m a drifter.
A man born to ride through this world alone.
There used to be a time when I thought I was the rescuing type. I enlisted in the Marines and made it my duty—I was going to save lives.
I was going to be a true American hero.
But God had another plan.
Or maybe Satan did.
For everything I touch finds mortality.
I’m no hero.
I’m nothing.
I’m a veteran biker, a former nomad who survived war only to live in hell.
Now I ride with the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn and I’m drifting into a different kind of chaos.
The kind that revolves around a pretty girl with intoxicating green eyes.
A girl who has the power to turn me inside out.
A girl who doesn’t need anyone to rescue her because she’s her own savior.
Until she’s not.
But a man plagued by war and the devil inside him can never be her hero.

Gina Spinelli

Strong. Independent. Fierce.
They are the three things I strived to be.
But sometimes being successful can be lonely.
Sometimes a girl just wants to be a girl and have someone take care of her.
Maybe even love her.
Sometimes the strong become vulnerable.
Or worse, the victor becomes the victim.
Sometimes we lose control or in my case it’s stripped from you.
Defeated. Broken. Haunted.
They are the three things I have become.
In my darkest hour I admit defeat.
In my darkest hour I need one person.
I need him.
Stryker.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***

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Come Meet Author Janine Infante Bosco & Model Matthew Hosea at “Authors In The City” 3.11.17 in Raleigh, NC!

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#THENOMADSERIES

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EXCERPT – The Morning After

Not giving a flying fuck if they kill one another, I leave the two criminals in the living room to duke it out over who has a bigger rap sheet and head straight for my Keurig. They can pull out their dicks and measure them against the wall for all I care—I’ve had enough of the A&E documentary my life has become.

What happened to the normal dating scene? Where a relationship progresses over candlelit dinners, great sex and nights spent watching movies on the couch. Not where the guy you’ve technically never even been on a date with decides he’s going to be your bodyguard because your brother wants to play Al Capone.

Rocco leaves, slamming the door behind him as I take two mugs out of cabinet and fill them with coffee. Turning around, I push one mug across the breakfast nook and lift my gaze to criminal number one.

“So that just happened,” I say, bringing the mug to my lips. “Great way to start the day.”

“I disagree. My day started pretty fucking good since I woke up with you all over me,” he replies, taking the cup I offered him. “Then your brother showed up, and I thought he was your boyfriend.”

“Well, you think very highly of me,” I mutter, setting my mug on the counter before bracing my hands against the granite.

“C’mon, that’s not what I meant,” he argues, flashing me a smile. “We don’t know each other very well.”

“Well, that’s about to change isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. It also seems like you were right about meeting that night in the restaurant. Looks to me like you and I were at the right place at exactly the right time,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

“Watch it, Stryker…you’re starting to sound like a hopeless romantic,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes for good measure. I nearly spit my coffee out when his eyebrows shoot up to the top of his bald head.

“Relax, Romeo. I don’t fall easily,” I assure him, crossing my arms against my chest as I chew on my lip and watch him sigh in a relief.

Men are such pussies when it comes to love.

And the ones who aren’t are the ones a girl like me never finds.

“How’s this going to work? If you plan on moving in with me I’m telling you now, I’m not giving up my closet space,” I warn.

“Not a problem, all my shit blew up yesterday remember?”

I wince.

“Sorry that was insensitive of me,” I reply.

He shakes his head as he sets the coffee mug on the counter but continues to hold onto it.

“I’m not moving in, pretty girl. The clubhouse might be in ruins but my home is with my brothers, with my club. Where that is? I’m not sure yet,” he says, then pauses for a moment and rubs his free hand over his head. “Do you have work today?”

“It’s Sunday,” I tell him.

“Okay, so then tomorrow we’ll start a routine. I’ll take you to work in the morning, check out the area so I know your surroundings and when you’re done, I’ll pick you up. I should have a phone by the end of the day so if you need me during work hours I’ll just be a phone call away. I’m going to need your brother’s number too, in case of anything.”

“You have it all figured out,” I reply, not even bothering to hide the surprise in my voice.

“Nah, I fake it well though don’t I?”

“Extremely. What happens after work?”

He cocks his head, pretending to be thinking but I see the smirk he’s trying to hide and the mischievous look in his brown eyes.

“Well, a man’s gotta eat,” he says.

“Yeah, I rarely cook,” I reply.

“I wasn’t talking about food, pretty girl.”

And there it is.

My cheeks turn cherry red as he wiggles his eyebrows and laughs.

“No comment,” I huff.

“Red looks good on you.” The laughter dies on his lips as does the playful banter and all that’s left is the live wires of electricity sizzling between us.

I lied.

If he keeps looking at me like that I’m going to most definitely fall for him.

I’m fucked.

Clearing my throat, I change the subject in an attempt to resurrect that playfulness I’m starting to crave.

“So, were you ever going to tell me you were in jail?”

“No.”

“Well, now that I know are you going to tell me why you were?”

He brings the coffee mug back to his lips, hiding his smile before he takes a sip. I raise an eyebrow expectantly as he shrugs his shoulders and places the mug on the counter.

“I’ve got a thing for bologna and cheese,” he finally answers with a smirk.

Bastard.

“Good,” I tell him, spinning around to drop my empty mug in the sink before I glance over my shoulder at him and smile sweetly. “That’s what we’re having for dinner.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he laughs, stepping around the breakfast nook. “You know…” He starts as he comes up behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist and his hands toy with the belt of my robe, wrapping the end around his wrist. “I’m starting to get hungry,” he whispers against my ear.

“There are eggs in the fridge,” I mumble.

“I don’t want eggs, Gina.” He yanks his wrist back and my robe becomes undone. His other hand moves from my waist and slips between the folds of my robe, spreading it open and exposing my body to his touch. My body melts into his as his fingers glide over my stomach, circling my belly button before inching lower and lower until his fingers are right where I want them.

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#DRIFTINGINTOCHAOS

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#FINDTHEBEAUTIFUL

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Just for fun after you’ve read Drifter and you have found the beautiful in their story take a selfie and tag me! Use hashtag #FindTheBeautiful.

-Author Janine Infante Bosco

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ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO

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Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

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ENTER THE GIVEAWAY

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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DRIFTER by Janine Infante Bosco Cover Reveal

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DRIFTER

by Janine Infante Bosco
Nomad Series #1
Publication Date: November 8, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense

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COVER CREDITS
Cover Designer: JB’s Cover Obsession Design
Model: Matthew Hosea
Photographer: Wander Pedro Aguiar
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Pre-order the biker full of dirty promises today on ITunes, Barnes & Amazon!

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Synopsis: “Stryker”
I’m a drifter.
A man born to ride through this world alone.
There used to be a time when I thought I was the rescuing type. I enlisted in the Marines and made it my duty—I was going to save lives.
I was going to be a true American hero.
But God had another plan.
Or maybe Satan did.
For everything I touch finds mortality.
I’m no hero.
I’m nothing.
I’m a veteran biker, a former nomad who survived war only to live in hell.
Now I ride with the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn and I’m drifting into a different kind of chaos.
The kind that revolves around a pretty girl with intoxicating green eyes.
A girl who has the power to turn me inside out.
A girl who doesn’t need anyone to rescue her because she’s her own savior.
Until she’s not.
But a man plagued by war and the devil inside him can never be her hero.

Gina Spinelli

Strong. Independent. Fierce.
They are the three things I strived to be.
But sometimes being successful can be lonely.
Sometimes a girl just wants to be a girl and have someone take care of her.
Maybe even love her.
Sometimes the strong become vulnerable.
Or worse, the victor becomes the victim.
Sometimes we lose control or in my case it’s stripped from you.
Defeated. Broken. Haunted.
They are the three things I have become.
In my darkest hour I admit defeat.
In my darkest hour I need one person.
I need him.
Stryker.

***NOTE: Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, sensitive subjects, offensive language, and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up. ***

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DRIFTER EXCERPT

Silence.

It engulfs me, provides me with a false sense of security the moment I close my eyes and drags my subconscious into the depths of sleep. But, it’s quickly ripped from me by the sound of plagued screams. A woman shouts with a foreign tongue and though I don’t understand the Afghani language I know beyond a shadow of a doubt she’s yelling for her innocent child to run, to seek shelter and for the man with the laser pointed at the child’s head not to shoot.

I am the man with the sniper rifle.

I am the man perched on a roof, with my finger firmly wrapped around the trigger.

And that bitch just sent her fucking child to play in the sand with a bomb strapped to his back.

For a moment, I want to believe she’s not playing me—that her kid isn’t a ploy in some sick terrorist plot. I ignore the sounds of my men commanding me to take my shot, insisting that time is of the essence and if I don’t do it, I’m betraying my country. I loosen my finger around the trigger and open both my eyes and watch the boy lift a handful of sand through the scope attached to my rifle. He opens his palm and spreads his fingers wide letting the grains of sand fall through them before he looks back at his mother.

She shouts more of that foreign bullshit and I wish I could get my hands on her and slice her tongue from her mouth.

It’s the final thought that crosses my mind before I pull the trigger and watch the boy fall back into the sand as my bullet pierces him between his eyes–innocent eyes that were once wide with wonder now are dull and lifeless.

Sweat beads along my brow and I can feel the bile rise up my throat as I wait. Everything around me fades as I stare at the boy in the sand. I lose myself and question my purpose, my mission, my platoon—everything. The bomb doesn’t go off and I swallow the lump lodged in my throat. I frantically peer into the scope, moving it to the right in search for the mother. I picture the Virgin Mary cradling her lifeless son that was pulled from the cross and wait for the woman dressed in black garb to do the same but she’s nowhere in sight.

Before I can divert my eyes back to the boy the blast erupts robbing me the opportunity to look into his eyes one final time because his head has been blown off his body and the fragments of him are now one with the sand he was playing with.

This is war.

And this is hell.

All that’s left is the sound of my own screams vibrating through my body, deafening as it pounds my eardrums and invades my head.

It’s those very screams that pull me from my sleep night after night and why I’ve given up on getting a full night’s rest, using my bed only to fuck and even that didn’t happen too often.

Until her.

I used to pound my dick into any willing pussy, never bringing them into my bed, believing I didn’t need that false sense of hope that I’m normal when I’ve got a woman wrapped around me, begging to spend the night in my arms after I’ve thoroughly fucked her—only for her to realize I’m fucked in the head when I wake her up screaming like a little bitch.

Yeah, I didn’t need that shit.

Hell, I didn’t want it.

Until her.

But I’ve learned my lesson and I’ve learned it the hard way. It’s the reason I’m sitting in a chair in the corner of a fucking filthy motel—waiting for the sun to rise as I stare at the battered and bruised woman in my bed, when all I want to do is climb in next to her and pull her into my arms—take away her pain and forget mine. I clench my fists and keep them pinned against the arms of the chair as I take in the dried up blood on her naturally pouty lips—lips that skimmed every inch of my body and I crave every night since.

I tear my eyes from her mouth and zero in on her closed eyes—eyes I know are pale green. Eyes once vibrant with life and mischief are now going to be full of torment and fear—when the swelling goes down and she can fucking open them again.

Her long brown hair is splayed across my pillow, matted with blood and knots from being fisted and pulled, leaving her scalp sore and just as bruised as the rest of her. I let my eyes travel the length of her, knowing the body she’s hiding behind her clothes matches her face in color and shame.

A knock sounds on my door and I tear my eyes away from the restless beauty, squirming between my sheets—wishing its pleasure that has her twisting and not torment.

Torment can’t be erased, it can’t be silenced—that shit sticks with you.

It lives inside you and destroys you, fractures your soul and rips your life to shreds.

I may have rescued her tonight but the woman in my bed is as good as dead. Her soul has been taken, chewed up and spit out by the men who attacked her—when she wakes up all she’ll know is grief.

She’ll mourn the life she had and wish the one she’s left with ends.

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ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO

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Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild.

Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.

She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

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