Thursday, 31 August 2017

#Spotlight ; The Royal Roommate by P.G. Van


THE ROYAL ROOMMATE
by
P.G.Van



Blurb
My purpose in life is to protect you… 

Sid is Army strong and sinfully sexy. He is tasked to investigate a woman suspected of having connections with a rebel group. The style of investigation was not his choice, and he is asked to move in as the roommate of the person of interest, Amy. 
Amy was thrilled to start her internship in San Francisco and wasn’t expecting a man with rock-solid abs as her roommate. The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew he was bad news. 

The attraction was undeniable and they both wondered how long they could hold on to their resolve. Sid didn’t want to sleep with a suspect even if she was wildly beautiful and sexy. Amy wasn’t interested in a fling. 

Just when Sid is about close his investigation and declare Amy’s innocence, he finds out something about her that changes everything. She becomes the most important person in his life.

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About the author

P.G. Van


P.G. Van lives in San Francisco and she published her first novel, Destiny Decides… in October 2015 and cannot stop writing. She loves to spend time with family and is a strong believer of retail therapy (mostly shops for boots and purses!!). She enjoys giving her readers an escape to the world of love and romance.

You can stalk her @

                   

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Tuesday, 29 August 2017

#Spotlight ; Rise of the Nephilim by Marcus James

 



Rise of the Nephilim
A Blackmoore Prequel
Marcus James

Genre: Erotic PNR/Gothic Horror

Publisher: Candiano Books

Date of Publication: 07/24/2017

ISBN:1545039895
ASIN: B073q4gb9w

Number of pages: 201

Word Count: 61,272

Cover Artist: Ransom Graphics

Tagline: Sex, witchcraft, and rock and roll on the Sunset Strip

Book Description:

LOS ANGELES, summer of 1987.

Kathryn Blackmoore, the 26 year old heir to Blackmoore World Corp. and the future matriarch of the Blackmoore dynasty of witches has fled the haunted old monied neighborhood of South Hill in Bellingham, Washington looking to trade in a century of rumors, superstition, and her own heartache  for the sun, sex, and music of the Sunset Strip.

Taking up residence in the famed and decaying Chateau Marmont hotel, Kathryn quickly finds herself in an erotic and thrilling journey into the world of Niiq, Arish, and Kuri; members of the band Nephilim, who seem to have the women of the Strip enthralled by their dark and sensuous sound. When bodies begin to turn up all over town and a mysterious and haunting figure fixates on Kathryn, she quickly learns that you can never escape your destiny.

RISE OF THE NEPHILIM is the first of a two part erotic paranormal romance/thriller revealing the beginnings of one of the most captivating characters in The Blackmoore Legacy series. It is a standalone prequel of eroticism, romance, and suspense.



Excerpt:

The library was quiet with the exception of the short and humming-to-herself library assistant stacking the books left out or returned through-out the day. The girl was a junior; she was sure of it. She had never talked to her; they had never orbited the same solar system in the day-to-day endless galaxy of Mariner High School, but that didn’t matter.
She could still reach inside the girl’s mind whenever she wanted to, and explore everything she kept hidden from the rest of the world. She could travel the fleshy terrain of the girl’s brain and see her hopes and dreams, her fears, her loves, and her longings.
She was able to pick out that her name was Tammy. She was a studious girl with dirty blonde curls that hung to her breasts, her skin milk-white and soft, her face delicate and scattered with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her small nose. Her brown eyes were golden and looked over the spine of each book, scanning their titles and looking up to each aisle to see where they belonged.
Kathryn Blackmoore stood from the table where she had been discussing after graduation party plans with her best friend Lila Sifuentes and with her boyfriend Sheffield Burges, excited to finally walk and receive their diplomas and be done with this place forever.
She was tall – five feet and nine inches. Her lean body was dressed in a pink-and-white pin-striped collared shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the collar popped and buttoned only to her full breasts.
A three-tiered pearl necklace glistened in the bright white fluorescents overhead, and her thick shoulder-length feathered mane was a rich auburn that seemed to glow around her like a halo.
She gathered her books and began to make her way to the doors to begin the walk through campus back to her home. Her long legs were encased in a khaki, knee-length Ralph Lauren skirt with a slit up the left thigh and a tasseled and thin brown leather belt was fastened loosely around her waist and rested on her hipbones. Kathryn looked at her watch; it was 9:00 p.m. They had been put in charge of the after-party by the entire student body – at least by the Golden Gods, as the popular kids were called – and it was their job to deliver.
Somehow by some cruel joke perpetrated by the universe, Kathryn had somehow become one of them. That was a first for her family, and it was no surprise to her that this ascension in the school’s hierarchy was achieved by her relationship with Sheffield. He was one of the kindest and most popular guys at their elitist school, and was a rock star on the Soccer field. It was the school’s claim to greatness and claim to fame. Other schools had football, but Mariner was known throughout the country for their school’s soccer team. In the eighteen years of its existence – as long she had been alive – Mariner was a crowning achievement and had only ever lost three games. Families from the country over, who dreamed of soccer field futures for their children chose Mariner – a public high school – over the best sports-driven private schools.
Mariner was a dynasty of Bellingham Washington, and the rite of passage for the exclusive children of South Hill, with their centuries-old Victorian, Tudor, Colonial, and Craftsman mansions that stood on large plots of land between treacherous and almost guard-like evergreens on every street, and sidewalks lined with monstrous oaks and maples. Homes filled with inhabitants of both the living and the dead.
Then there werethe Edgemoore kids. Nouveau riche. Most of them were native Californians whose parents moved here in a great rush for cheap land when California’s real estate began to climb higher and higher, and for the chance to get their kid on the Mariner soccer team.
Here, on the cliffs on the other side of Bellingham Bay, and staring back at the old genteel mansions, were the castle-like and gaudy estates of Edgemoore.
These kids had no respect for the history that still stood in the city, and the almost haunted charm of Fairhaven, that filled the space along the water between these two wealthy neighborhoods. Fairhaven was the last town to merge with the county of Whatcom in 1903, finally forming the greater city of Bellingham. For the city, and everyone in it, there was a difference between the South Hill neighborhood and the rest of Bellingham itself, as if it were still its own town.
Connecting the south to the north of Bellingham was the campus of Fairhaven University, which in the 1890s had been the Washington State Normal School. Fairhaven University was carved through the trees and made up of tall, red-orange brick buildings and concrete bridges overpaved pathways in between the green. The city was not unlike Bram Stoker’s description of Transylvania: a place wild and filled with spirits, and fiercer things that lived in the mouth of the Carpathian Mountains that surrounded it.
The city was surrounded by cliffs and an endless army of evergreens.
Interstate 5 snaked through all of this above the city, so that every exit dipped down into it. Kathryn had grown up here, had been born here, into South Hill’s superstition and paranoia and never-ending fears.
South Hill was filled with the descendants of the founding families, and the majority had worshiped at The Cathedral of the Sacred Heart.
The white wood church with its gorgeous and detailed mammoth windows of stained glass was crowned with a single black-slated roof and spire.
The first time Kathryn had ever used her witchcraft against another was the priest who had tried to take advantage of her when she was twelve. It had felt invigorating to watch his body convulse and the blood begin to slip out of his mouth, eyes, and nose – even his ears.
When he had hit the floor, his brain fried, she had screamed and run out of the office as soon as one of the nuns and another priest – Father
Malady – opened the door, covering her tear-stained face.
It didn’t help anything when she told them what he had been attempting to do when the aneurism hit. She could hear the headmaster’s thoughts, as well as the two nuns and Father Malady, who had sat with his arms folded, his angular and almost rat-like face with his beady green eyes looking at her with a smug grin. They knew she had somehow caused it. She was a Blackmoore, after all; she was a witch and she had used her charms to seduce the priest. To bewitch him and befuddle him and make him lose all of his sense and self-control. She had made him weak on purpose so that she could kill him – to sacrifice him to Satan and make another hit in their diabolical war with the Church.
She had said nothing. She wanted to leave and go to Fairhaven Middle School. She was in her last year of junior high and she didn’t
want to be in this place any longer, with ruler hits and other obscene punishments. They were more than happy to get her out. Her father,
Trevor Mayland, had been the one to insist she go to Catholic School.
He feared the Blackmoore name as much as anyone else, regardless of the fact that he had married her mother, Annaline Blackmoore in 1961.
He had loved her so much that he had wanted to save Annaline from what he saw as the Blackmoore curse. He thought that she would be far from the devil’s reach if he could marry her and make an honest woman out of her. A God-fearing woman who would go to mass every
Sunday and keep far from her family’s other practice, aside from Blackmoore World Corp. – a multi-billion-dollar-a-year international company which handled almost all the shipments of goods, most legal and some more questionable, of the entire world – was running the Church of Light, the Spiritualist church that her great-grandmother Aria had started in 1898, where she would commune with the dead, read palm, tarot cards, and tea leaves.
It was a place where for a hefty sum, Aria could be hired to work her witchcraft for others, no matter the intention. The Church of Light was then run by Aria’s daughter Fiona, and now her daughter Mabel, her mother’s older sister. Annaline had been too adventurous for that anyways, and so Trevor’s plan meant nothing one way or the other, as Annaline was too much of a wild child, concerned with music festivals and poets and drinking while smoking pot and cigarettes.
This fact did not stop Trevor Mayland from worrying about “his girls,” as he called his wife and daughter, and sending Kathryn to boarding school, only a few blocks from her actual home, to only visit on the weekends, was extremely easy for him.
Yes, she had had enough at that point, and the death of the priest put a smile on her face – a smile she had to fight back when they almost hesitantly told her that she was finished and would be going back home.
They were witches; this was true, and Father Malady had known this. A man of forty-seven, straight from Ireland – in Kilcommon,County Mayo – where the Blackmoores had originated from, and where they still lived inside the great limestone citadel known as Blackmoore Hall on the shores of Broadhaven Bay.
Everyone in that part of Ireland knew of the Blackmoores. They believed them to be a family who grew into their wealth because of a pact with the devil, and those who knew them gained fortune or befell ruin simply for knowing them.
During the witch hunts her ancestors had fled the Black Moor and built a rustic cottage with a thatched roof along the cruel and wild sea, in hiding from both the evils of Christian men and the even greater and ancient evil that had tormented the clan of the Black Moor for centuries before finally escaping. He was a dark and bloodthirsty God who had tried to make slaves of the clan and had forced them to sacrifice the weak and the innocent to his altar.
They had finally escaped him, turning their back on him and refusing to write his name down or speak it from their lips. This went on for two hundred years, until all those who had known him had died, and he had grown weak from being forgotten. They left the moor in the year 1145 and journeyed northwest, as far from the wood and that deity as possible. They were secluded and far from wealthy, and then suddenly in 1845, they began to buy up nearly thirteen thousand acres of land and built a great, almost castle-like home. They were all certain that the family was finally reaping their rewards for the trade of their souls.
This had never been the case. The reason for the wealth was far more mundane; Katy Blackmoore of New Orleans – where the family
had moved to in the 1780s – denounced the family and the many evils that served the Dark God of the Wood who wished to wipe out the Blackmoores, and left for Spain. She returned almost a year later married to Spanish royalty, and bequeathed a fortune enough for a kingdom to her father Tristan, her brother Nicholas, and her grandparents Sarafeene and Malachey, in exchange for being left alone by them so that she could live a normal life.
She had lost her mother to her family and their Legacy – the name of their great curse – and she was certain that if she separated herself from her family and lived a good Christian life, never summoning her witchcraft, then she would not lose her husband, and her children would never suffer the loss of a parent, or the feeling of knowing who you were and what you were would end up killing the one you loved.
The Blackmoores had agreed and with that money, they made the family flourish. First in New Orleans and Ireland, and then later, the family moved west and north, and all points in between. Spreading out all across the United States, England, France, Italy, and Ireland, in vesting in industry and especially shipping; and acquiring and building fleets upon fleets of ships, until there was no one to rival them.
By the time the family had arrived in Fairhaven to begin building their empire in the “Gateway of Alaska,” as it had been known, the residents of the city were openly hostile – being fueled by the legends and superstitions of immigrant priests and servants who whispered about the dangerous and devilish Blackmoores of Kilcommon and their mission to take over the Christian world and hand it to the devil and his fallen angels, wrapped with a big bloodstained bow.
It was shit, but superstition is slow to die, and even in 1979, the people of South Hill still feared the Blackmoore name and what it meant if you talked to them. Kathryn had suffered that for so long, and for the longest time, Lila Sifuentes – the only Latina in the school –had been her only friend.
Her father had always loved Kathryn, but up until his death a week after the incident – due to the sudden brain tumor that claimed the lives of those who have unprotected sex with a Blackmoore – he had always been slightly wary of her, as if he could see the curse deep under her veins.
Unprotected sex with a Blackmoore always seemed to kill seven to twelve years later, and always of a severe seizure and hemorrhage caused by the tumor. Blood pooled from the nose, mouth, and other parts of the face, and the body would convulse. They would be biting their tongues so hard that often they bit the tip off completely. Every witch in her family always hoped and often believed that they would be the Blackmoore to survive the curse, that their lover would be strong enough to beat it back.
They always died, and her father had been no different.
Kathryn had been dangerously beautiful all her life, with a statuesque body and icy eyes – the palest of blues – and soft olive skin with an always-perfectly-feathered auburn mane lik ealion, and the latest fashions straight out of Vogueclothing her. She had a husky whiskey voice, much like the actress Kim Novak. She had loved Bell, Book, and Candle, so the comparison was flattering; besides, she thought Kim Novak was a magnificent and stunning creature.


About the Author:

Marcus James is the author of five novels and has contributed to several anthologies with Alyson Books and has been a contributing writer for Seattle Gay News. He lives in Seattle with his husband and Staffordshire terrier. He is 32 years old.





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#BookBlitz ; SnowBound by Olivier Lafont





Print Length: 339 pages
Publication Date: May 18, 2017
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC
Language: English
Genre: Young Adult Adventure/Fantasy 




Christmas is dying.

The last Santa Claus had triplets who each inherited a portion of his father’s power, and that split is now tearing apart the soul of Christmas.

Niccolo Vecchio, the eldest, has fortified the North Pole into a citadel of ice and metal.

Santini, the middle brother, is in hiding somewhere in the Mediterranean.

The youngest brother, Niccolo Piccolo, is raising legions to reclaim his inheritance.

Two of the triplets will have to renounce their claim in the next forty-eight hours, or this Christmas will be the last one ever.

And it’s up to Adam, underachieving teenager sub-ordinaire, and his brand new jock bully Zach to make that happen…


It would be great if you can add this book to your TBR





Olivier Lafont is a French author, screenplay writer, and actor. His novel ‘Warrior’ was published by Penguin Random House, and was shortlisted for the Tibor Jones South Asia Prize. He has just released his new contemporary romance novel 'Sweet Revenge' exclusively on Kindle. 'Purgatory: The Gun of God' is a fantasy novelette published in South Africa. 

Lafont has written a number of feature film scripts before. The first film he wrote opened at the Toronto Film Festival and went on to win seven awards at film festivals worldwide. 

As an actor Lafont has acted in Hollywood and Indian films, in TV serials, and in over 80 television commercials. He acted in ‘3 Idiots’, one of India's all-time blockbuster hits, the critically-acclaimed ‘Guzaarish’, and the Lifetime film ‘Baby Sellers’, amongst other films. 

Lafont graduated with two degrees in acting and writing from Colgate University, USA, with academic distinction.

Click here to check out all the titles by the author...

You can stalk him @ 


          

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Saturday, 26 August 2017

#BookReview ; Man-Eaters of Kumaon by Jim Corbett



Jim Corbett's book on man-eating tigers are not only established classics, but also almost in a separate literary category by themselves. Man-Eaters of Kumaon is the best known of Colonel Corbett's books, and contains ten fascinating stories of tracking and shooting man-eaters in the Indian Himalaya during the early years of this century. The stories also contain incidental information on flora, fauna and village life, making this book altogether delightful reading.

Man-Eaters of Kumaon is a collection of 10 stories about hunting man-eater tigers written by Edward James Corbett. It is the best known of Jim Corbett’s books, it has sold over 4 million copies since it was published in 1944 & this edition has been published by Aleph Book Company. Jim Corbett was born in the Himalayan hill station of Nainital. He joined the Indian Railways at the age of 17 & left it after 22 years to return to Nainital where he opened a hardware shop. Although he is best known for his hunting exploits, he was also one of the first generation of conservationists in India.

There are some books which we have all heard of since our childhood but never got to read them, Man-Eaters of Kumaon was one such book for me which I got to read thanks to Aleph Book Company. The stories are about how the author during his days as a hunter was required to hunt down man-eating tigers & what he experiences while preparing for it. He writes vividly about the cases he encountered & how the survivalist in him helped him keep up in the wilderness while following the trails of the animal. This literary work pumps up your blood as you go through it & no wonder is still selling. Get your copy here,
To start with, honestly I just had a vague idea that it’s going to be about tigers who have become man-eaters but it was naive of me to not remember that the author was a hunter too. Jim Corbett even though was a hunter but he also professed conservationism too, some people might think that it’s hypocrisy but we have to put in the perspective of time. His passion & admiration for wilderness is quite evident in his writing. The thrill he creates through his words will keep you on a hook & make you feel you’re right there with him. That explains why this book is an evergreen. Aleph Book Company has done a tremendous work republishing it, the cover & the art work is breathtaking. Surely a must have! 


Monday, 21 August 2017

#Spotlight ; Torment by LM Pruitt




Torment
The Damned Series
Book Four
By LM Pruitt

Release Date : August 8, 2017

Genre: PNR

Book Description:

Enemies are so stimulating.--Katherine Hepburn

If you can look past the part where they're trying to kill you.

The Damned want my head on a platter. The Winged have similar plans.

As for Morning Star and the Power... well, only They know.

One false step... and everything is lost.

CONTAINS SCENES OF GRAPHIC LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL ACTIVITY. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.


Excerpt:

“You’ll catch cold if you stay out here much longer.”
I didn’t turn around, continuing to study the skyline. “I’m fine.”
“It’s three in the morning. You should be asleep.” He didn’t sound angry about the fact I wasn’t or the fact I was standing outside in late September in sleep pants and a thin cotton tank. If anything, his scolding sounded as if it was for form and nothing else. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”
“Yes.” Now I did turn around, studying Barry with the same intensity I’d shown the various buildings of Prague. “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad.” He pulled a cigar from the pocket of his sleep pants but didn’t light it, staring at the tip for a moment before sliding it back in his pocket. “I’m tired, Julie. As I said, it’s been a long day. The next few days—weeks, rather—promise to be equally long. We all need to sleep, to keep our strength up for what lies ahead.”
“You haven’t touched me since we got back.” Since he stood in front of my sister and ripped her heart out and then walked away without a backward glance. “You’ve barely said anything all night long.”
“As I said, I’m tired.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. “There’s been quite a bit of upheaval in the last thirty-six hours or so. Quite a bit. Forgive me if I’m not my usual charming self. You have more than enough people here to pay you attention if you’re feeling uncared for.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I turned back to the city view, widening my eyes and blinking rapidly in an effort to keep the tears at bay. I didn’t have a problem with using tears as a weapon when they were called for but I wouldn’t use them with him, ever. “You’re right. It’s late. Go to sleep. I’m fine.”
“We both know I’m not going to sleep until you do.” I heard the sound of metal scraping over concrete and glanced over my shoulder to find he’d pulled one of the patio chairs free of the table. Sitting down and stretching out his legs, he said, “As long as you’re here, I’m here.”
“Barry—.”
“Arguing will only frustrate us both, Julie Elizabeth, and we’ve had enough frustration for the day.” He slid further down in the seat, almost slouching, and crossed his arms. “As long as you’re here, I’m here.”
“But do you want to be here?” The question tumbled out before I even realized it was in my mind and I bit my tongue, already regretting it. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”
“Come here.” When I didn’t move, he uncrossed his arms and held out one hand. “Please.”
Crossing the balcony, I took his hand, curling up in his lap and resting my head on his shoulder. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat. “I don’t know any other way to say it. I can simply say as long as you’re here, I’m here. When you want to leave, we’ll leave.”
“And where would we go?” Joanne’s face in the instant after Barry verbally sucker punched her, Asmodeus’s face the second after I shot him, flashed through my mind and I hunched my shoulders as if the memory carried a physical blow. “There’s no place left. We burned all those bridges today.”
“The thing about bridges is they can always be rebuilt and when they are, they’re stronger than before they burned.” He brushed my hair away from my face, stroking one hand down my back and pulling me tighter against him. “But since you don’t want to leave, the discussion is moot.”
“We’re doing the right thing.”
“The right thing done the wrong way is no longer the right thing.”
“If there was a way to do this differently, we would have taken it.” We’d tried to take it. We’d tried to meet the others halfway. Nobody—Lilith, Asmodeus, the Power, Morning Star—wanted to bend.
So we would have to break them.
“After the raids begin today, there is no turning back. You and your supporters will be branded traitors. There will be bounties on your heads.” He pressed his lips to my hair, breathing deep. “On all our heads. You’ve never lived through a war.”
It wasn’t a question but I answered anyway. “No, I haven’t.”
“I’ve been through more than my fair share, even considering my age. When it’s impossible to die from manmade weapons, you tend to fight in wars simply to alleviate the boredom.” He turned, pressing his face in to my hair. “And they’re nothing compared to supernatural wars. So far you’ve only seen the pretty side of Hell. There are things which will be unleashed which should never exist out of nightmares.”
“On us or by us?”
“Both.” His hand shook as he stroked my back and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort me or himself. “Some things can’t be unseen or unfelt. You’ll carry it with you until the day you die.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
“I’m trying to warn you. Up until now, everything about this war has been theoretical. Until today, no true shots were fired.” He drew back, his face unnaturally somber, even for him. “I know you did what you had to do and I don’t fault you for that decision.”
“But I officially started the war.” I nodded. “I know. I’ll live with it.”
“Things will get worse.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “They always do.”
“And then they get better.” I had to believe that. If I didn’t, then there was a good chance I was wrecking and ruining lives for no reason at all. I pressed my lips to his, lightly, for comfort more than anything else. “Things will be better. We’re going to make them better.”
We didn’t have any other choice.


About the Author:

L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she's killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.







Thursday, 17 August 2017

#Spotlight ; Our First Dance by P Nelson


Our First Dance
The Doms of the Cage
Prequel Novella
P Nelson

Genre: Romance, Erotica, BDSM

Date of Publication: August 11, 2017

ASIN: B073WCNVTT

Number of pages: 115
Word Count: 39, 291

Cover Artist: VeselinMilacic via Upwork.com

TaglineThe sizzling hot passion only betrayal could tear asunder

Book Description:

We met Calla and Master Flynn as the sub and Dom with so much sexual tension it set the dungeon of The Cage on fire. Find out how their love affair began and why it had to end to protect them both in Our First Dance.




About the Author:

P Nelson has just started her journey in Erotic Romance with her debut novel Take My hand. Our First Dance is a prequel novel to Take My Hand focusing on the characters of Calla and Master Flynn. Nelson calls Vancouver her hometown and is married with one young daughter. At 6.00pm most days she can be found with a G and T in one hand and either her daughter or a good book in the other.







Tuesday, 15 August 2017

#Spotlight ; Beyond The Rules by Anna del Mar




Beyond The Rules
An At the Brink Novel
Anna del Mar

Genre: Erotic Romance.

Publisher: Anna del Mar

Date of Publication: August 15th, 2017

ISBN: 978-0-9799682-6-6

Number of pages: 290 pages approx.

Word Count: 113,000 approx.

Cover Artist: Mayhem Cover Creations

TaglineA brilliant hacker fleeing for her life runs straight into the arms of a trio of ex-SEALs bound by a sacred, battle-forged pact, men who have agreed to share everything…including her

Book Description:

When Nina Leon crash-lands in the rugged mountains of Montana, she’s fleeing from a deadly enemy and a painful past, desperately searching for the legendary hacker who can help her defeat the ruthless terrorist stalking her. Instead, she’s rescued by three brave ex-SEALs who will do anything in their power to protect her.

Tanner Vazquez, Aiden Black, and Balthazar Flint live by a pact forged in battle and signed with blood. It’s a bond that has saved their lives more than once. They’re committed to watching each other’s back and sharing everything.

Everything.

As different as they are, Nina hits all their buttons. They agree. She’s the one they’ve been waiting for.

But Nina’s not looking to commit to anyone. She doesn’t believe in love. Her life has made her the ultimate skeptic. Lust? Yes. Sex?Absolutely.Love? What a crock.

Protecting Nina is gonna be hard enough. But convincing Nina to stay, fulfilling her sexual fantasies and getting this brilliant hacker to trust and love them—all three of them—for good?

That’s gonna be a hell of a mission.

Amazon     Kobo     BN


Excerpt:

Nina

My jeans were scorched in places, so Tanner lent me a black T-shirt and helped me into the single pair of panties I owned, fresh out of the dryer. I was clean and my hair was combed and almost dried. My knees were still shaking from the orgasm, but on the upside, I didn’t have to walk far. Aiden insisted on carrying me down the stairs. The smells of bacon and biscuits scented the house and sent my stomach into a growling fit.
            Aiden looked down on me and cocked his broken eyebrow. “Hungry?”
            I flashed an apologetic grin. “Starving.”
            “No worries.” He settled me on a stool by the kitchen island and went over to the huge fridge. “We’ve got you covered.”
Wow. When was the last time someone said that to me?
A quiet beep lit up over the discreetly paneled door that slid aside to reveal Tanner, leaning on his crutches, shuffling out of the elevator. “Ready to chow?” He winked at me and then joined Aiden and Zar at the kitchen counter, picking out cutlery from one of the drawers.
I caught an excellent view of three very nicely built backsides, broad shoulders, tapered waists, asses chiseled from granite. Holy hell. These hunks made menial kitchen work look like a sexy, seductive dance.
I fanned my burning face with my bandaged hand. “Can I help with something?”
“No need,” Tanner said. “Sit tight.”
            Zar was parked in front of the stove, firmly in charge of some gigantic omelets, plus a pan of bacon and the biscuits he maneuvered out of the oven. A distinguished touch of silver frosted his fair hair at the temples. It had to be premature gray, because he was otherwise too young and fit. Or else he worried too much. Yeah, that could be.
He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were startling. His irises were a shocking color, azure flecked with Lapis. I couldn’t decide whether his gaze reminded me of the oldest glaciers in the world or the flame’s hottest fire. A million questions gleamed in his stare. He considered me as if he was debating whether he should send me to the corner or spank me. If I had a choice, number two, please.
Balthazar Flint. The name suited him to perfection. It had gravitas. It also matched his demeanor, down to the hard edges of his powerful body. It occurred to me that, in another life, I could’ve been the steel to his flint and we would’ve made lots of sparks. Dream on, girl. Like that could ever happen.
Zar transferred the last of the omelets to the plates and Aiden plunked a cup of tea in front of me, Earl Grey with lots of cream. Before I had time to ask Aiden how he’d known exactly what I liked in my tea, Tanner picked up the mug and tipped it against my lips. I took a deep draft, enjoying the sweet heat that warmed my stomach and spread to the rest of me. The four of us sat at the kitchen counter, facing our loaded plates. After examining my right hand, I was about to give the utensils a try, when Aiden beat me to the fork.
            “I promised I’d be your hands when you needed me.” He speared a chunk of eggs and lifted them to my lips. “You need me.”
So freaking sweet. Panty-melting cute. “Thanks,” I mumbled through a mouthful. Had I died and gone to heaven?
I chewed my food, enjoying every bite, studying the men as I did. These guys were military or ex-military, like my brother had been. They spoke, moved, and acted like trained warriors. Tanner had admitted to training as a corpsman and Aiden had mentioned they’d designed the house while they were on deployment. I had to get to Ulysses, but I couldn’t help being fascinated by the remarkable trio that had taken me in.
I stole a glance at Tanner. At six feet or so, he was the shortest of the three, tall to my five foot five. Fit and compact like a soccer player, he was a head-turner. The striking contrast between his smooth, dark olive skin and his light green eyes gave him an exotic flair that conjured images of distant shorelines, sun-kissed dunes, and fabulous spice markets.
There was no question that Tanner appealed to me. What he’d just done to my body challenged my skepticism at every level. With his chiseled chin, his body’s perfect proportions and his hair, cropped in a clean, sharp cut that spiraled from the cowlick at the back of his head, he should be strutting some runaway in Milan.
My gaze shifted to Aiden. His size alone should’ve made him lumber and yet when he moved, he did so elegantly and efficiently, as if he’d trained his body to function in a world that didn’t always fit him. Aiden looked like a basketball player. Or an Olympic swimmer. The scar that nicked his eyebrow gave character to his face and the curls and facial scruff added a roguish touch that reminded me of pirates and Vikings. I bet he’d taken a few shield maidens to Valhalla.
My eyes went to Zar, downing his food with automatic precision. Height-wise, he was somewhere in between Tanner and Aiden, but he was built like an NFL linebacker. His muscular neck was made to carry the weight of a dangerous world. His solid pecs could serve to bulldoze entire armies. His thighs were as brawny as the beams that held up the house. When he glared at me as he was doing now, I had to repress an impulse to kneel at his feet and ask for mercy.
“You got enough in you to talk?” He set down his fork and nailed me with his skull-piercing gaze. “The sooner we deal with this, the better.”
He was right and I needed to get back on track.

The first two chapters of Beyond The Rules are available here: http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/excerpt_beyond.html


About the Author:

Amazon Bestselling author Anna del Mar writes hot, smart romances that soothe the soul, challenge the mind, and satisfy the heart. Her stories focus on strong heroines struggling to find their place in the world and the brave, sexy, kickass heroes who defy their limits to protect the women they love.

A Georgetown University graduate, Anna enjoys traveling, hiking, skiing, and the sea. Writing is her addiction, her drug of choice, and what she wants to do all the time. The extraordinary men and women she met during her years as a Navy wife inspire the fabulous heroes and heroines at the center of her stories.

When she stays put—which doesn’t happen very often—she splits her time between Colorado and Florida where she lives with her indulgent husband and a very opinionated cat.

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