He protected me from danger and became my biggest threat.
He’s my defender. My savior.
A brutally determined man with a cocky smirk and an equally cocky attitude.
Broad. Strong. Focused.
He seduces me with his flirtation.
Warms me with his care.
But he’s hiding something.
There are ulterior motives beyond his concern for my security.
A thirst for more than my safe keeping.
I can’t fall for him. Can’t be tempted by his touch.
Not when he can’t be trusted.
But questioning my protector means I’ve now become his target.
From bestselling author, Eden Summers, comes another seductively thrilling standalone destined to leave you breathless.
Meet Eden Summers…
Eden Summers is a bestselling author of contemporary romance with a side of sizzle and sarcasm.
She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she’s circling the drain of insanity. Eden can’t resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face
Highly trained agent Mira Araceli can hold her own in the toughest situations, but not against her secret crush, Torin Carter. She’d fallen for her Hawkeye instructor years before. With his dark Irish good looks, unshakable integrity, and haunted blue eyes, he was everything she fantasized about. Unfortunately he never even glanced at her twice.
Torin’s intense hunger for the new recruit shocked him. But as his student, the fierce and beautiful Mira was off-limits. And she was far too young and innocent for his carnal demands.
Now, when Hawkeye pairs them together for an undercover assignment, she discovers the dangerous side he was hiding. Is she strong enough to fight for their second chance? Or will the beautiful storm that is Torin Carter destroy her completely?
Buy Meant For Me Today!
About Sierra Cartwright
USA Today Best-Selling Author, Winner of the 2015 Best BDSM Book of the year (Bind), 2015 Reader’s Choice Best Erotic Romance (Bind), 2015 Golden Flogger (Crave), 2014 LASR Book of the Year award (In The Den), 2013 Best BDSM Book of the Year award (Over The Line), Golden Flogger Award 2015 nominee for her books Command, Bind, and Brand, Sierra was born in Manchester, England where she spent her early years traipsing through castles. After living in Denver for a number of years, the internationally acclaimed author now resides in Galveston, Texas. She loves the way history blends with Southern manners (being called “sugar” is an experience unto itself).
She invites you to join her on a sensual journey where the limits are explored and expanded.
Connect with Sierra Cartwright
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Cover Designer: Jennifer Bosco Cover Design
Models: Fred DiBella and Tiffany Marie
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
#propertyofparrishforever #jackandreina #brandedbythebulldog
It’s not a wicked world that drives a man to sin, it’s a deranged mind. Baptized in dirty water by Satan himself, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the good fight, searching for the light in the darkness of insanity. Now, the light I’ve basked in for so long is finally dimming and the time has come for me to take my final bow before the curtain closes on my sanity.
After making a deal with the district attorney and providing my club with full immunity for the crimes we’ve committed, I have twenty-four hours to remind my wife, Reina, why she fell in love with a bastard like me before I turn myself in and break her heart.
But twenty-four hours isn’t enough.
Not for me and certainly not for the Devil.
Tragedy strikes, and my world implodes. It’s lights out for Jack and Reina and a man can’t survive without his sunshine. Engulfed in darkness, consumed by the crazy, I’m a weapon of mass destruction, ready to wreak havoc on the wicked world.
Word to the wise—proceed with caution, motherf*ckers.
The Bulldog is back!
© Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.
“I didn’t realize you would be joining us today, Mrs. Parrish,” the district attorney, Matt Ritzer, says, tearing his eyes away from me to glance thoughtfully at my wife. Turning my head, I watch Reina lift her head and stare at the man looking to lock me up and throw away the key. Without responding, she tucks a golden strand of hair behind her ear and for a split second I forget we’re in a room full of attorneys and federal agents. I forget we’re teetering on the edge of a sentence and imagine fisting those locks as I bend her over the table and fuck her raw.
Raw and hard.
Wild and reckless.
Like a ruthless savage, branding her over and over so that long after those iron bars close in on me, Sunshine feels me between her legs.
“I go wherever he goes,” she says calmly, forcing me back to reality. Without looking at me, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Until you take him away from me and I no longer can.”
To the room full of suits, her voice is strong—her words cunning but I hear the despair laced with every syllable and I feel her hand slightly tremble against mine. It forces my gaze downward. Dripping in faded ink and silver rings, my fingers intertwine with hers. Pale, dainty and perfectly manicured—that’s my Sunshine.
The beacon of light in my dark and cruel world.
Lifting my head, the voices around us fade and I just stare at her profile, cementing her delicate features to my failing mind. I remember the first time I saw her face, the first time she acknowledged my existence. Her dull eyes called to me, beckoning me to dig deeper and discover the heart and soul of their owner.
Her soul was broken, that I knew but, her heart—I never expected it to be as generous as it’s been and I sure as fuck never thought I’d be the bastard she gave it to. She saved me the trouble of stealing it because come hell or high water I would’ve taken it, anyway.
I’m selfish like that.
Always taking what I don’t deserve.
Dirtyin’ up the clean.
Tainting the pure.
Corrupting the innocent.
Playing God with everyone who comes into my life. Reina never stood a chance with me as her acting messiah but, fuck if I don’t love her. For every bit of wrong I’ve done in my life, I must’ve done something right for her to stick with me.
You can say it’s because she loves me but, I’m no fool and I’ve lived enough life to know love isn’t always enough. Another woman would’ve run for the fucking hills. Another woman would’ve committed my mentally deranged ass. And another woman wouldn’t be sitting next to me holding my hand as I break her heart and destroy our lives all for the sake of brotherhood.
It’s more than love.
It’s knowing you were born to complete the other half of someone. It’s finding the remedy to heal your fractured soul, to piece together the broken parts and make them whole.
“There’s always visitation,” my lawyer whispers to her. That’s when she breaks her stare with the district attorney and turns her eyes to me. I watch them fill with tears and I lean into her, lifting my free hand to her face. I pull her closer, touch her forehead to mine and give her what she needs to hear.
“You,” I murmur, taking us back to the beginning.
Back to basics when two words defined a lifetime.
After a beat, she nods slightly and returns the gift, giving me what I need to serve my impending sentence.
“Me,” she assures.
Clearing his throat, Ritzer commands my attention. Releasing a growl, I pull back and slice my gaze to the man sitting across from me.
“We’ve gone over the deal legal counsel has proposed and are willing to negotiate the terms,” he says, sliding a stack of papers across the mahogany table. Before I can lift a finger, my lawyer reaches over and takes the proposal.
Still holding Reina’s hand, I lean back in my chair and watch intently as my five hundred dollar an hour lawyer skims the deal.
“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.
Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…
The voice of my maker calls in the distance.
You’re fucked Parrish.
“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear. “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.
Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.
Every dog has its day, Bulldog.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.
“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.
Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.
Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.
Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby, she’s carrying won’t know its grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.
I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god will listen that while I’m alone, rotting in my cell my mind will allow me to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.
You’re going to lose her, Parrish.
She’ll never wait.
“Ten years,” my lawyer counters. “Or we go to trial and leave it up to a jury to decide.”
“That’s fine with me,” t Ritzer fires back. “We take it to court and your client can wind up doing anywhere between fifteen to life.”
“Jack,” Reina whispers, reaching for my face. “Are you with me?” she questions, searching my eyes for a sign that I haven’t drifted over to the darkness.
“I’m with you,” I rasp, wrapping my hands around her wrists.
“Your client is being charged with murder in the first degree. Now, we’re being generous here. The deal is fifteen years and full immunity for the club.”
Prying Reina’s hands off me, I glare at the suits sitting across from me.
“Do I need to remind you of my client’s medical condition?”
When in doubt, pull the crazy card.
“Twelve years, full immunity for the club and his private doctors are allowed to treat him inside,” Holden continues.
Mulling it over, the Ritzer leans back in his chair, quietly conferring with the two assholes sitting on either side of him. Knowing these men hold my fate in their hands is enough to get my blood boiling and the wheels turning inside my deranged head. I envision inflicting pain on them and tearing their world apart. I want their wives to cry at night and their kids to wonder when and if they’ll ever see their fathers again.
Once a fucking sinner, always a sinner.
“Thirteen years and full immunity for the club. As far as his medical treatment goes that will be up to the warden to decide. However, I assure you, Mr. Parrish will be treated for his condition.”
Thirteen years is better than fifteen and I turn my gaze toward my lawyer, waiting for him to agree or disagree. He looks at me then Reina and back to me, giving me a slight nod.
“Take the deal,” he says.
Thirteen fucking years.
One hundred and fifty-six months.
Four thousand, seven hundred and forty-five days.
Turning once more to my wife, I brush her hair away from her eyes and watch as she lifts her tear stained face.
This woman. This beautiful woman I never deserved, saved me. Day after day, night after night, she provided me with a steady place I could let go of my defenses. When the darkness consumed me, she brought the sunshine. Part of me wonders if she regrets it. If she looks at me and sees all the consequences loving me has brought to her life. After all, doesn’t every good woman eventually tire of giving their love to someone who does nothing but chip away at their spirit. It’s only a matter of time before my good woman realizes she was drowning trying to save a man who only kept pushing her head under the water with every bad decision he made.
“We’ll make it work,” she assures.
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.
Janine’s Land of Temptations Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1730045370558131/
Amazon Author Profile: http://amzn.to/2b98hQM
Bookbub Author Profile: http://bit.ly/2kXDpo1
Book Title: Blessed
Author: Maggie Blackbird
Publisher: eXasty Books
Cover Artist: Martine Jardin
Genre/s: M/M, Contemporary, Spiritual, Religious, Multi-Cultural, Romance
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 92,784 words/330 pages
A mixed-blood Catholic seminarian struggles to discern his true calling: the priesthood or his ex-lover, a proud but damaged Ojibway man.
It’s been ten years since Emery Matawapit sinned, having succumbed to temptation for the one thing in his life that felt right, another man. In six months he’ll make a life-changing decision that will bar him from sexual relationships for the rest of his life.
Darryl Keejik has a decade-long chip on his shoulder, and he holds Emery’s father, the church deacon, responsible for what he’s suffered: the loss of his family and a chance at true love with Emery. No longer a powerless kid, Darryl has influence within the community—maybe more than the deacon. Darryl intends on using his power to destroy Deacon Matawapit and his church.
Hoping to save the church, Emery races home. But stopping Darryl is harder than expected when their sizzling chemistry threatens to consume Emery. Now he is faced with the toughest decision of his life: please his devout parents and fulfill his call to the priesthood, or remain true to his heart and marry the man created for him.
An erotic spiritual journey…
The putter of a diesel engine carried to where they stood at the side of the house.
“Sounds like the priest’s clunker.” Clayton puffed on the cigarette.
Knots formed in Darryl’s stomach. Did Emery accompany Father Bennie? What the heck was the priest doing up at Long River? Darryl lived at the reserve’s most northern district, far from Grassy, where the Matawapits resided.
Don’t watch them go by.
The car slowed and then turned into the driveway. Black, wavy hair appeared in the windshield. Hot tingles shot through Darryl’s arms and legs. He’d better get himself under control. Running into the coward was expected. It was the reason why he’d raced around the reserve like a fool earlier, trying to figure out what to say when they eventually crossed paths.
Had Emery come to apologize? Maybe reconnect? Wait a second. Someone had probably sent him. In the past, he hadn’t possessed the testicular fortitude to initiate anything. Father Bennie and Deacon Matawapit were up to something.
“Is that Emery?” Clayton frowned.
“Yeah. Gimme a second.” Darryl marched around the side of the house. When the car door opened, he froze.
Emery’s long legs appeared. He straightened to a towering six-foot-something. His red lips, smooth, pale skin, and high cheekbones melted Darryl’s insides. Tight muscles filled out Emery’s blue polo shirt and white dress pants. His hair curled around his square shoulders. This wasn’t a skinny seventeen-year-old kid who’d favored worn jeans, hiking boots, and t-shirts, but a twenty-seven-year-old elegant man.
“Hello. I was hoping to catch you at home.” Emery doffed his sunglasses, exposing his thick black lashes and bright green eyes. He tapped his shades against firm thighs Darryl had caressed during the best time of his life.
Although Emery’s voice was deeper, the feathery tone still stroked Darryl deep inside his jeans. Quivering, he spat out a, “Hel—hi…” He cleared his throat of the damned frog making him sound like an idiot. “Hello.”
“I-I planned on stopping by sooner.” Emery’s gaze roamed in every direction. “I was busy… unpacking”
Darryl motioned to the side of the house. “I was heading out for a drive once I finish talking to someone.”
“Oh…” Emery’s gaze settled on Clayton, who appeared around the corner. “I’ll come back another day when you’re not busy.” Disappointment lined his voice. “Have a good night.”
When Emery turned for the car, Darryl’s frozen heart churned into overdrive. The question jumped from his mouth. “Where’re you going?”
Emery pivoted. “Back to the rectory. It’s where I’m staying during my visit.”
Darryl stifled his groan. Call him a sucker for asking. “You came here for a reason. Why?”
“Uh… I—” Emery held a fist to his mouth and coughed. “Do you have time for a walk?”
A shiver careened along Darryl’s spine. Instead of being prodded, Emery, of all people, had initiated something.
Clayton’s slim brows twisted downwards. “I guess we’re done?”
Everyone knew how tight Emery and Darryl had once been. The cunning coyote had better not think of Darryl as a traitor who’d lose focus on the Traditionalists Society’s mandate now that Emery was back. “We can finish our convo tomorrow. Stop by my office in the morning.”
“Never mind. I’m outta here.” Clayton stamped to his pick-up parked on the side of the road. He glowered at Emery, who returned the frown with a nod.
Fire crackled through Darryl’s veins. Hostility and rudeness to another wasn’t the purpose of the Traditionalists Society.
“We can meet at the Treaty Grounds.” Darryl used an even tone, though his pulse points raced faster than a bear chasing down dinner. “Right now my road’s pretty much the Trans Canada.”
A truck pulling a skiff rambled by.
“Everyone’s heading out for the evening fish.”
“Okay.” Emery’s mouth remained closed while his full lips moved upward. He had the same shy smile capable of melting Darryl’s limbs. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Sure.” Darryl slid on the four-wheeler.
Emery opened the car door and got in. He drove off and left a trail of dust in his wake.
Darryl turned the key. The machine’s engine roared to life. This couldn’t be happening. Someone must have plopped him in the middle of a dream. Who was the courageous man who’d come of his own accord?
He steered the four-wheeler down the driveway. People changed. Before entering St. Michael’s Seminary, Emery had lived in Thunder Bay to attend university. Being out from under his father’s thumb had probably given his confidence a much-needed boost.
His dad’s here and he sought me out.
Had Emery told Father Bennie his intentions for the evening? Where would their talk lead to? There was only one way to find out—drive faster to the Treaty Grounds.
About the Author
An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes. When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.
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a $15.00 eXasty Books/Devine Destinies gift card and one e-copy of Blessed.
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Book Title: His Two Leading Men
Author: Aidan Wayne
Cover Artist: Aidan Wayne
Genre/s: Contemporary sweet gay romance, menage
Heat Rating: 2 flames
Length: 57,000words/ 205 pages (309 in kindle format, 296 in PDF)
It is a standalone story.
Release Date: November 9, 2018
Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited
Broadway star Skye’s whole life is an act.
On the surface, he’s living the New York Dream – acclaimed by critics for his stunning debut, playing to packed audiences every night.
They don’t know the truth.
Battling crippling anxiety, every show is a struggle for Skye. Only one thing gives him the courage to step into the spotlight every performance – the steady, calming support of costumer Russell. But Skye can’t burden Russell with all his demons…
When wealthy patron Brent takes an interest in Skye, everything the actor knows is turned upside down. Charismatic and confident, Brent is everything Skye isn’t… and just what he needs. But how can he choose between gentle Russell and magnetic Brent? Russell means so much to him, but the chemistry between Skye and Brent is undeniable.
Or does he have to choose at all…?
Quick changes, Skye decided as he scrambled offstage yet again, were the worst part of any show. It was the start of full-dress rehearsal week for the Broadway debut show Child’s Play, so he was figuring out how to get into and out of his costumes–and in time to scale the ladder to the height of center stage so he could descend from the ceiling. He’d botched it twice already, not making it in time for his cue, and he was a mess of nerves trying to get decked out in his light-up tuxedo while he paid attention to the music.
“Hey,” his quick-changer murmured as he affixed Skye’s mask. “You’ve got this.”
Right. Skye nodded and hurried over to the ladder.
After rehearsal was over and the cast was undressing and taking off makeup, Skye decided to track down the quick-changer. His calm amidst the storm had really helped, and Skye wanted to say thanks.
It had been chaotic and dark, but Skye didn’t have a problem remembering what he looked like. Taller than Skye, with dark brown skin and kind eyes.
He found him fixing costume pieces on their hangers, and seeing him in full light–he looked more like someone who should be modeling clothes, over making them. “Hi,” Skye said, trying to sound more confident and less shy. “Uh, I’m Skye. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?”
The quick-changer chuckled, a low, throaty sound, and held out a hand. “Russell,” he said. “And I know who you are. Hard to miss the Power Prince.”
Right. Skye was still in full makeup. He, at least, was easy to recognize. He ruefully rubbed the back of his neck. Skye tried his best to get to know the stage crew, but between them and the cast there were a lot of people to keep track of. Once the show was up and running for a few weeks he’d definitely be better at it, but people sort of stayed in their little boxes during rehearsals. They didn’t meld properly into one complete unit the show actually started. But Russell he wasn’t going to forget. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
“For, you know, encouraging me back there. I really needed it. And it helped a lot.”
Russell smiled at him. “Happy to help.”
“Yeah, uh–” It didn’t feel like enough, just saying thanks. And he didn’t know the guy yet–but it’d be a good idea to get to know him. Especially considering he’d be the one helping Skye strip down and then dress back up twice a show. “Are you busy, now that rehearsal is done for the day?”
Russell shook his head. “Just need to finish prepping this all for tomorrow. Shouldn’t take me long. Why?”
“You want to grab a bite to eat together?”
“Want to meet by the back door when you’re ready? I have to take all this off anyway.”
Russell chuckled again. “I might be done before you are, but sure, yeah. Meet you then.”
Skye grinned. “Great.”
He left to go peel off his costume, unpin his wig, and take off all the stage makeup. In the end, he just wiped off as much as he could manage. He was pretty sure all Broadway actors had perpetually lined eyes at this point. Well, it wasn’t like he minded that much–it did make his eyes pop.
When he was dressed in real-people clothes again, he grabbed up his bag and left for the backstage door. A few people were still milling around, but Russell was standing a little off to one side. Not checking his phone or anything, just watching what was going on around him.
Skye went up to him. “Hey,” he said. “Thanks for waiting. Looks like you were right; you were done before I was.”
Russell blinked at him and then laughed. “So that’s what you look like when you’re out of makeup. I’ve been wondering.”
Russell shrugged. “I mean, I’ve seen everyone’s playbill headshots, but by the time I get to most of you, you’re all in makeup, if not costumed.”
“I thought you were one of the costumers.”
“Yeah, but that mostly means I’m sewing or repairing or washing. I just get put on the quick-changes once we get into dress shows. I’ve got fast fingers.”
Skye laughed. “Okay, good to know. And, I mean, I appreciated them. You’re going to be the one working with me?” Hopefully he didn’t sound to eager.
“Yup. For the changes on that side of the stage that need an extra pair of hands, I’m your guy.”
Skye smiled. “Nice to hear.”
“So where we headed?”
“Oh, uh,” Skye might not’ve thought that far. “What are you in the mood for?”
“You pick. You were the one who did the inviting, after all.” Russell grinned at him.
Skye tried not to panic. He wasn’t so great at choosing things. “Um.” There was that burger joint a block away that he and the others frequented a lot, that might be a good place. But maybe that was too fast-foody? There was a sushi bar pretty close by too, but Russell might not like that. Maybe–
“Actually,” Russell said after what was probably too long a pause on Skye’s part, “I could really do with a burger. That sound good to you?”
Crisis averted. Second time that day Russell had done that. “Yeah.” Skye smiled. “That sounds great.
Meet the Author
Aidan Wayne has been publishing LGBTQ+ fiction since 2016. While they usually stick with contemporary romance (both adult and YA), some soft sci-fi/fantasy has been known to sneak in as well. They primarily write character-driven stories with happy endings, because, dammit, queer people deserve happy endings too.
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