Monday, December 12, 2016

Death's Echo (The Complex) by Rachel M Raithby

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Book Title: Death's Echo (The Complex) Author: Rachel M. Raithby Genre: Sci-Fi Romance Release Date: December 9, 2016 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

After a brutal war between Humans and Metas, an uneasy truce is declared in the Seldova solar system. After the treaty signing, the Complex is created on the lone planet, Lorn—a blended community of Humans and Metas, all sent to test the waters of a more peaceful existence between the two races. Living in a domed society can only mean one thing for the Humans and Metas. Chaos. Reviled banshee Aqulla Dayshon sees death, feels the last moments of a victim’s life and senses the echoes they leave behind. They call for vengeance, and she is helpless to deny their cries, to deny her very nature. Intra Jaylon Rowe is the law within the Complex. When a series of murders hit the community, he enlists Aqulla’s help. But solving the murders won’t be easy. Boundaries will be pushed, and rules broken. And as lines are crossed and passion ignites, a banshee’s call will scream. Death is here, and it wants them all. January 1st, 6 AS (Ama Seldova) Arrival Day Jumping down from the jetter, dust flying up around her, Aqulla sucked humid air into her lungs and walked a short distance from the group she’d arrived with. The space ride to Lorn hadn’t been enjoyable. It was just her luck she’d been seated next to a woman who’d killed her husband in a rage when she’d found him cheating. Part of Aqulla appreciated what the woman had done. Put in the same situation, she was certain she’d do the same, but that didn’t apply to the Banshee within—the hungry, bloodthirsty side of her that called for death. Denying that part of herself wasn’t easy. It was a battle she’d contended with most of her life. “Hey! Don’t wander off. Get in line.” Turning, Aqulla narrowed her eyes at the Intra solider, then looked in the direction he was indicating for her to go. Breath rushing out between clenched teeth, Aqulla almost turned around and climbed back aboard the jetter; maybe fifteen years in prison would actually be a better deal than the Complex. “Move along!” “All right, all right, jeez,” she hissed back, baring teeth. The Complex stood tall and proud in the distance, its silver walls like glittering gems. The harsh sun reflected off the many domes, making it almost unbearable to look at. The center dome was by far the widest. Its sides sloped off behind two pointed domes at either side. At its base was a low rectangular shape that ran the length of the Complex. Aqulla gazed up, shielding her eyes but couldn’t make out the top; it soared into the sky, disappearing behind low hazy clouds. It was a massive, intimidating structure, a stark reminder that the Ama Seldova—the governing body and leaders of the new “peaceful” regime—were watching. Its gleaming walls might be a far cry from the dank cell she’d left, but The Complex was still a cell. A gilded cage she’d have to survive for the next two and a half years. Walking forward, Aqulla was herded toward the many lines of people waiting to enter the community. She breathed a sigh of relief when the husband killer was shown to a different line, but it was short lived. It seemed the Complex was full of killers. Death’s echo lingered everywhere. But the lines weren’t only made up of criminals. Gazing across the rows, Aqulla could make out the lines of “nice” clientele. Even from this distance she could feel their disapproving stares, make out their rich-man clothes. They’ll last five minutes with these lot. She smiled to herself, kicking the ground. Though I wonder what secrets they hide. If it had taken monetary bribes to get convicts, some on life sentences, to join the experiment, then what had it taken to get volunteers who already had money and “privileged” lives? Taking another step, Aqulla ground her teeth together in an effort to keep from shifting. The Meta in front of her reeked of death; he’d killed so many. Aqulla couldn’t make out the individual echoes. He was a mass of swirling darkness threatening to pull her under. But she couldn’t give in to her natural instincts, no matter how much she wanted too. The Complex was her ticket to freedom, her only way to wipe out the past and maybe make amends with her family. Then hopefully, her grandmother wouldn’t see her as a stain on the family’s reputation. She’d be allowed back into the banshee coven, and they’d see she that she could live with the power of her gifts. The line moved one more excruciating step further. Aqulla released a deep breath and slid her eyes shut. The line was impossibly long. Too long. Her mind wandered, picturing blood splattering the floor, the gargled breath of a man taking his last breath. “What’s the matter, princess?” Aqulla’s eyes shot opened as the Meta in front turned and fixed her in his sights. A slow, cruel smile spread on his face. Aqulla struggled to hold onto her vision. The screams of the people he’d murdered wrapped around her, calling for vengeance. The line moved along, but the Meta moved closer to her. Claws sliding out, Aqulla fisted her hands. The sharp points of her claws dug into her palms drawing blood. The pain grounded her, brought her back from the very fine edge she was skating. It didn’t stop the Meta, though. He was huge, towering a good few feet above her. His eyes were dark and full of sadistic delight as he sized her up. “What have we here then?” “I might look as weak as the many women you’ve tortured and murdered, but I assure you, Meta, one step closer and it will be your last.” His head cocked to the side as he chuckled softly. “And how would you know who I’ve killed?” Aqulla considered keeping her identity secret, but it might be the only thing that would save her. She was too close to snapping, too close to slicing her claws across his throat as she screamed her death cry. “You’re dripping with death. I hear every scream, every whimper. They call for your blood. They want your death to be as slow and cruel as theirs. Tell me, Meta, will you run when you hear my scream?” His face hardened. “All right, banshee, I get the picture,” he snarled, stepping away and moving to join the end of the line. Aqulla relaxed her hands, letting out a breath of relief when a hand slid down her back and squeezed her ass. Blood rushed through her veins as her head filled with the urge to kill. Spinning, her knee slammed into his groin. As he collapsed, her claws found his throat. Blood dripped down his neck as she gazed into his eyes. This Meta had killed too, but in self-defense, not that it mattered much to Aqulla. Her scream was on the tip of her tongue. She’d begun to step over the line.



meet the author

Rachel M. Raithby started her writing career in 2013 and hasn't looked back. She draws her inspiration from the many places she has lived and traveled, as well as from her love of the paranormal and thriller movies. She can often be found hiding out with a good book or writing more fast-paced and thrilling stories where love always conquers all. She now lives in rural England with her young family. Her books include, the adult Paranormal Romance novels 'The Deadwood Hunter Series' and the Young Adult series The New Dawn Novels, including the YA Best seller 'Winter Wolf.'

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Only For You (The Lick Series, #3) by Naima Simone

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Book Title: Only For You (The Lick Series Book 3) Author: Naima Simone Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: December 12, 2016 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions


book blurb

It’s been five years since I’ve seen her. Five years since Gabriella James damn near destroyed me with her betrayal, sending me to hell in a cage. I’ve crawled free, escaped the mob, opened a night club, and continue to battle my demons through underground fighting and sex. But now Gabriella’s back, begging for absolution, wanting my forgiveness. All I want is what she’s denied me for all these years — her body. Sex. That’s all we’ll ever have. Because Gabriella is still keeping secrets. I see it in her eyes. I don’t trust her, and I’ll never forgive her betrayal. But that won’t stop me from taking her. Over...and over...and over...


“Leave the clothes,” he reiterated. She shook her head, her grasp on her jeans tightening. “Humiliation wasn’t part of this bargain. I’m not walking out of here without any pants on.” A shadow crossed his face even as his lips firmed into a straight line. “Humiliate you? You think I want to give every motherfucker out there material to go home and fuck their fist to? Let them look at those thighs and imagine them wrapped around their waist? Their head? No, Gabriella, my intention isn’t to humiliate you,” he murmured, the silken tone all the more dangerous. “My sole focus is hustling your pretty little ass next door and upstairs as fast as possible. Whatever you think about me, I’d never place you in harm’s way, and that includes exposing you. Now,” he lowered his face until she could easily detect the green flecks in his golden eyes. Something flickered in those eyes. The same thing that, for just a moment, softened his mouth so he appeared almost...vulnerable. Hungry. No, no. Need. Like he needed her to walk out of this room with him. But in the next instant, the emotion disappeared behind a shuttered mask. “Are you in...or out?” She didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped the clothes and walked to the door, that brief flash of...whatever accomplishing what the pretty little ass and the possessive tone he’d uttered it in couldn’t.

meet the author

Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey, Sandra Brown and Linda Howard many years ago. Well not that many. She is only eighteen…ish. Though her first attempt at a romance novel starring Ralph Tresvant from New Edition never saw the light of day, her love of romance, reading and writing has endured. Published since 2009, she spends her days—and nights— creating stories of unique men and women who experience the first bites of desire, the dizzying heights of passion, and the tender, healing heat of love. She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

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Caught For The Holidays by Amber Bardan

For six months, she’s tormented me. Driven me crazy. For six months, I’ve teetered on the edge of combustion. Been an aggressive monster of her creation, unable to have the one thing I need.


She’s made me crazy. This is her fault. Now her games have come to a conclusion she never thought could happen.

I’m here, in her room.

In her bed.

Catching her for the Holiday’s and forever.

Warning: This short romance is pure guilty pleasure. These holidays, get caught up with Matthew, a completely obsessed hero who will stop at nothing to claim the love of his life. This book contains elements of forced seduction, which may be triggers for some. Happy Ever After. No cliffhanger.

The bed is a shadow in the center of the room. I ignore it for now because if I glimpse her, I’ll lose all control. I close the drapes the way they should’ve been closed the moment she stepped in here.
Can’t have anyone witness the things I’m about to do.
I turn, and it’s an effort to breathe. My pulse roars. She’s so close. I’m so close to her. We’re in the same room.
She’s all I think about. Terrible, terrible things swirl through my mind. Terrible things I’ve seen and done. She’s the rainbow that comes after the hurricane.
My reward for being strong.
To say I’m obsessed is like calling the sun lukewarm. Nothing else matters, now I’m here. She’s going to make everything better.
I reach her bedside.
The even sound of her breathing filters through the darkness. There’s a lamp next to her bed, but I won’t risk waking her.
I hit the button for the flashlight on my cellphone. A soft, gentle glow illuminates the room. I set the phone on the bedside table.
My balls throb, they’re so freaking full. Since the moment I planned to come here, I haven’t so much as touched myself to ease the pain. The flashlight app’s light reaches across the room. Not enough to wake her. Enough to illuminate the fucking magnificent vision on the bed.
My gaze eats her up.
A sensation hits me that’s a lot like diving out of an airplane. The ground seems to rush toward me. I catch myself and begin breathing again.
Have to remind myself to do that before the anticipation kills me.
Just look at her—hand under her face, sweet cheek smooshed against her palm. Curled up all innocently. As if she’s an innocent girl.
When her and I both know she’s anything but.
The ache in my balls threatens to have this all over before I’ve touched her. I tug at my belt buckle. That’s not going to happen; everything I have, I’ve saved for her.
She’s a wicked little tease, and she’s about to be treated like one.

After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fuelled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

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