Spotlight on Planet Alpha: Assassin by Nicola Cameron @YesItsNicolaC
PLANET ALPHA: ASSASSIN
By Nicola Cameron
Erotic Romance, Sci-Fi, M/M/M
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77233-077-9



BLURB:

While hunting raiders, Duncan Shea and other members of the New Black Watch run into a deadly ambush. Injured and alone, Duncan stumbles across a grounded shuttle carrying an Alphan warrior named Taric and a mysterious Xyran named Zhan. The handsome aliens agree to help Duncan, but he quickly learns they also have a plan of their own -- to claim him as their mate.

Forced to hide their bond from their respective governments, Taric and Zhan never expect to find their third bondmate while on an unauthorized mission to stop a vicious Xyran slave master. Neither of them can resist the urge to claim Duncan, but will their new mate help them catch their old foe, or turn them over to Earth -- and Alphan -- justice?




BUY LINKS:


EXCERPT

Duncan stepped back as the airlock hatch rose, revealing a huge golden Alphan warrior in a black uniform. A brief memory flickered across his mind, an afternoon with a tall, broadly built watchman who had tumbled him laughing into a bed of leaves before fucking him senseless. The sex had left him with a distinct appreciation for men built on the alien’s scale.

“Greetings, human,” the Alphan said, golden eyes staring at him curiously. “Are you in need of aid?”

The low, rumbling voice knocked him out of the memory. “Uh, yeah. I mean, yessir,” Duncan said, wondering if he should salute or what. “Name’s Duncan Shea. I’m with the New Black Watch.” He showed his right arm, where a band of green and blue tartan had been clumsily sewn. At the alien’s puzzled look he added, “It’s a guard unit. We were tracking some thieves when we got ambushed about five klicks from here.”

The alien glanced at the woods behind him. “You are alone?”

Duncan grimaced. “My men are dead. Bastards planted some kind of mine in the woods.” Like an alien’s gonna know what a mine is. “You step on it, it blows up,” he clarified. “You heard anything about that, sir?”

The Alphan’s eyebrows rose. “About … mines?”

“Or thieves, sir. Local ones.”

The alien shook his head. “I know nothing about local criminals, Watchman Shea. Nor do I know anything about human explosive devices.”

Duncan sagged. Even if the Alphan was lying, there was no way he could prove it. And forcing his way on board an alien ship, even if it wasn’t hiding outlaws on board, was suicide. “All right, thank you.” With a weary tip of his hat, he turned to go.

“Wait,” the alien ordered. “You were injured in this explosion.”

It was a statement, not a question. Duncan shrugged, then winced as his cold, tight muscles cramped with the motion. “Got banged up a little, yeah.”

This time the Alphan glanced up at the gunmetal sky and the cold rain pouring down. “This weather is not safe or healthy for an injured human. Board my ship and I shall assist you.”

It was Duncan’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “‘Scuse me?”

“Did I use your language incorrectly?” The Alphan switched to a loud, slow tone. “Board … my … ship … and—”

Duncan shook his head. “I got that. I meant, why are you gonna help me?”

The alien smiled. It made his craggy, handsome face more human, somehow. “My race signed a treaty with yours to offer assistance when and where we could. As such, it is my duty as an Alphan warrior to assist an injured human warrior.”

“Oh.” That did line up with what he’d heard about the gold aliens and their sense of honor. “Well, sir, in the case, I’d be pleased to get out of the rain for a spell.”

The Alphan stepped back, and Duncan climbed into the airlock, pulling off his hat and swallowing a moan as the warm air hit his cold, wet skin. “Oh, that feels good.”

“I imagine it does.” The Alphan towered over him by a good six inches, and a pair of pointed black horns on his forehead added another inch of height. Duncan couldn’t help checking out the thickly muscled body straining the seams of its uniform. While he was in good shape, he suspected that the Alphan could crush him like a bug.

Or throw you down and fuck you silly, part of his mind suggested.

He shivered pleasantly at the thought. “Um, do you—”

“What a sodden creature,” another voice said sourly. “Do we let it drip dry, or do we wring it out?”


BIO

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of "y'all," much to her Chicago family's dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in sex since puberty, it wasn't until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to erotic romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture...).
                                           
·         Website /Blog: http://www.nicolacameronwrites.com
·         Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/nicolacameronwrites
·         Twitter: https://twitter.com/YesItsNicolaC
·        Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/nicola-cameron/

Blurb Reveal for Filthy Marcellos: Lucian #ComingSoon
I'm sharing the blurb to the first book in my next series, scheduled to be released some time in February 2015. The Filthy Marcellos was a project I began working on sometime in the middle of The Russian Guns series. Inspired by the world I was creating in the other novels and from the research and information I had gathered on La Cosa Nostra, I dived into the heads, minds, and hearts of three brothers ... all thoroughly ingrained and infiltrated in the life of their Cosa Nostra borne family.

So, I sincerely hope the first brother catches your attention and perks your curiosity. I'll be sharing lots of snippets and teasers over the next few weeks, so keep watch. :)


....


Filthy Marcellos: La Cosa Nostra is not just a choice of regime and routine, it’s a culture. Born as mafia royalty, the Marcello brothers were raised ingrained with the beliefs and rules of what it meant to be a Mafioso prince. It is for life. Their status is considered a given right. They will always be these people. They will always be Marcellos.

Lucian Marcello is aware of the expectations following him as the oldest son of one of North America’s most infamous Cosa Nostra Dons. Family in his world is more than blood and sharing a last name. It’s the honor, respect, business, and the life. Being a Capo is just a stepping stone until it’s time for him to take on the role of underboss but a chance meeting with her could be the one thing he’d risk it all for.  

She is exactly what he didn’t know he was looking for.

Jordyn Reese spends her time trying to stay under the radar of a man who wouldn’t think twice about killing her. Unwillingly affiliated with a dangerous MC gang, her life is dominated by the men surrounding her and her future rests solely in how useful she can be for them. The last thing she needs is some Mafioso gaining her more unwanted attention from the club.

He is everything she should stay away from but can’t.

Notoriously violent when it comes to getting what he wants, Lucian will stop at nothing to make the target on Jordyn’s back disappear. But sometimes the worst threats are the ones you can’t see until it’s too late. The truth behind Lucian’s history is about to take center stage in more ways than one, and it’ll either save him … or kill him.


This world leaves everyone a little filthy.
Spotlight on #NewRelease Judging A Book By Its Cover by @LDBlakeley - @EvernightPub
Judging A Book By Its Cover 
by L.D. Blakeley
Genre: Erotic Romance, M/M
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77233-075-5 



BLURB

Agonizingly shy Emory North has his life mapped out for him: finish his business degree, go to work for his father, and one day take over as CEO of North Star Publishing. More at home amongst stacks of books, Emory has little to no interest in his lot as ‘North Jr.’, but has never had the courage to follow his true passion—writing.

Brash and ballsy Bryce Palmer, editor-in-chief of ECLIPSE magazine is known for bedding and discarding PAs like yesterday’s newspaper. He’s up against a serious deadline and down two staff members. And the last thing he has time for is babysitting the spoiled rich son of a CEO. But when Pierce Barclay North insists now is the time for his heir apparent to get his feet wet in the company waters, Palmer's hands are tied.

But looks can be deceiving. And, sometimes, passion can spark in the most unlikely of places...

EXCERPT

By 6:30 Monday morning, Emory sat at his desk nursing a steaming hot cup of strong, black coffee. It was far earlier than he should rightfully be at the office. But his internal monologue was making him crazy and he’d hoped work might, at least, distract him from the situation. Torn between anger — at Bryce for his wrongful intrusion — and mortification — also directed at Bryce (but more at himself) for that stolen kiss — Emory was fit to be tied. Did he confront Bryce about the email and risk his ire? Or should he avoid both subjects entirely? 

Emory knew his father would give him some variation of the I Assumed As Much speech, if Bryce were to fire him. Would he, though? Would Bryce fire him for last night’s indiscretion? He’d seemed well enough into it at first. So maybe Emory could call him out on the manuscript without risk of being upbraided like a child for the kiss — or worse, fired.

Before he had time to become completely unhinged with his thoughts, they were interrupted with the arrival of their main source of strife.

“Morning,” was all Bryce muttered as he breezed past Emory’s desk and into his office.

Seriously? That’s it? Emory was at a complete loss. Now what? Act like nothing out of the ordinary happened Friday and he hadn’t spent the entire weekend fretting? March into Bryce’s office and demand an explanation for the email? 

Before he was able to decide one way or the other, his phone lit up — Bryce’s extension.

“Emory speaking,” he finally managed after picking up the phone and hesitantly clearing his throat.

“I should hope so — I did dial your number.”

“Oh, um.”

Bryce sighed and Emory was positive there had been an accompanying eye roll. “Are we back to nervous monosyllables again?”

“No, I…” Emory heard Bryce chuckle before he could manage to spit out the rest of his sentence.

“Would you please come into my office, Emory?” This was it. He was about to be tossed out on his ass and onto a pile of jilted former PAs… and he hadn’t even managed more than a drunken kiss!

“You wanted to see me?” Emory stood in the doorway of Bryce’s office, not entirely sure what to do or say. A million things came to mind: curse the man out for taking his story; apologize for his behaviour after the gala; kiss him one more time just to see if it was as scorching hot as he remembered. He chose none of the above and timidly avoided eye contact.

“Would you please come in?” Bryce appeared to be finishing up an email, his fingers flying across his keyboard. “Shut the door behind you and have a seat.”

Emory did as he was told and sat facing Bryce. Before he could change his mind, he managed to muster up more temerity than he’d ever thought possible, and spat out “I’msorryaboutFridaynight,” as though it were all one single word.

“Sorry about… what, exactly?” Emory was surprised to see a smile on Bryce’s handsome face.

“The wine?” Emory started worrying at his thumbnail once again.

“I didn’t mind the wine, to be quite honest. Made you much more… conversational.” And didn’t that sound laced with… undertones. Emory could feel his face burning.

“But that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss.” And there it was. Emory braced himself. 


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind, L.D. is a fan of horror movies, hot sex, and Happily Ever Afters. Easily distracted by shiny things, she’s a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune. 

In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Of course, whether these pretty boys end up between the sheets with other gorgeous lads or up against a wall with a spicy and spirited heroine, all depends on which direction her imagination takes her on any given day.

Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in down-town Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.

You can find her online pretty much everywhere: Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Goodreads, her blog, and her official website.
Piracy and Effect (See what I did there?)
I'm not going to go on some long ranting diatribe about piracy, torrent sites, cockroaches, and so on. I'm not going to call names, point fingers, post links, or mutter about statistics. You won't find stop piracy badges on my blog (because they do nothing but exclaim to the world what everyone should already know), or rants on my Facebook page about finding such and such a title on such and such a piracy site the very same damn day it released. (Oh, yeah, that's happened.)

Hell, I won't even say that every book of mine that is pirated takes food off my table, clothes off my kids' backs, or presents gone from under the tree. It is getting close to Christmas, after all.

See, I won't say those things and play that card because as of now, I don't have to depend on my royalties to make ends meet, or help my family survive. I have a full-time job--currently I'm on maternity leave for the baby, but I paid for the right to have that available too through taxes and that extra chunk for unemployment insurance the government takes from my bi-weekly paycheck. But someday ... in the near future, I would like to be able to depend on my writing as my job, as the thing I can say "Yes, my royalties this month will pay my mortgage, buy the baby's milk and diapers, put food on the table, and ensure I still have my Malibu in the driveway to get me from point A to point B."

Someday, but that's not today.

Nonetheless, it doesn't make any of what I said above any less true or honest. Because in fact, while I don't have to depend on those monthly, quarterly (from one publisher), and twice yearly (from another publisher) checks, I still do in other ways. I hope that at the end of this month, I might have the extra funds to buy my oldest son the specific bicycle he asked for this Christmas from Santa, as he's never had one before and it was the one thing he really wanted. See, it's not in the budget otherwise. I hope that at least one of my twice yearly checks this year will be enough for me to buy a new laptop, because while the one I use is still relatively new (coming on two years old soon) and works semi-okay, I'm in need of a new one ever since the cooling fan broke and the damn thing keeps overheating. Thank God for exterior cooling fan systems and my hubby's patience and electronic skills.

After all, I need to be able to keep writing those stories the pirates enjoy stealing so damned much.

I wouldn't dream of taking funds from my kids or home to buy something like that when the one I have does work okay-ish and it's not an absolute immediate need of mine, see. That doesn't mean I don't need it, it just means I have a priority list, and having the extra sum of money come in that my family doesn't depend on to get them through to the next month means I can have it and don't have to worry about losing my work every other day.

(Psst, that wouldn't ever really happen, I now have a ridiculous need to constantly back up everything on my computer to memory sticks.)

So okay, while I may not forever say goodbye to some of my work, I wouldn't actually be able to work ... see how that one works? Yeah.

In the end, I'd like to say I kept my word in not going on some long, ranting wave of verbal vomit,but maybe I kind of did. Either way, there are some simple facts for the pirates out there.

If my works keep getting pirated, will I stop writing and publishing? Hell no. I've long since come to the realization that is just a facet of this business I have to deal with. Taking time to send out repeated notices for take-downs. Being frustrated when I see people requesting my stories on pirate sites, or bragging about buying and returning after reading just because Amazon's return policy allows them to do that. These unfortunate, annoying things are all just one side of this pubbing world I handle. And I do try, but I refuse to let it overwhelm me to the point where I spend more time on pirating than I do writing.

However ... here's another fact for those wonderful pirates out there.

I'm enrolled in Kindle Select, which means my stories are exclusive to Amazon only. That's my choice, and my right to do so. Is it frustrating for those who would prefer an epub or PDF version of my books? Sure, but hey, email me. Believe it or not, I'd probably send along one of those formats just for the promise of an honest review. Really, I would.

And then it'd likely manage to find its way on some other download, torrent, crap pirating site, but I digress. I would take that risk so someone else might enjoy my stories. And I do have so many to tell yet.

But see, being exclusive to Amazon in Kindle Select means something else as well. When they find my files uploaded on sites, I may get a nice little letter stating they've removed my book from the program, taking away my higher royalty rate and easier publishing experience. Sure, I can get the book back into the program once I get it removed from the torrent site, or whatever site it's up on, but sometimes it's not that easy. Sometimes these sites demand ridiculous letters with email addresses that are "company only" or some such bullshit. I don't have one of those, so my notices and take-downs are ignored, no matter who I report them to.

Please quit pirating my work. Just stop. It's a hassle. I have enough stress. And while I'm at it, I might as well add for those pirates, learn some respect. I bet that'd help a whole heck of a lot. Unless you buy it, it does not belong to you.

Really, it's that freaking simple.

--Kris
Guest Author @SJMaylee Stops By To Talk "In The Blind" - #NewRelease from @EvernightPub
Thank you so much for having me today. I’m so excited to see this book out! The concept came to me quite a while ago and I knew in an instant which scene would be first and which scene would be in the middle. The rest however took some time to figure out. I understand now why the characters were reluctant to share the rest of their story. I was finally able to convince them the ending would make it all worth it.

This book marks the beginning of a new series for me, Club Blind. It is located in the basement of the club from my first series, the Love Projects. There are cross over characters too. This new club is quite different. Its atmosphere is pitch black. You don’t need to see to feel and reach new heights in pleasure. Club Blind will help you to remove your inhibitions so you can indulge in your sexual fantasies. I hope you get a chance to read this story and fall in love with the characters like I have.


In the Blind (Club Blind #1)

by: S.J. Maylee

Genre: Erotic Romance with D/s

Length: Novella

Published: October 15, 2014

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-77233-066-3


IN THE BLIND Blurb:

Jane thinks she’s ready to take the risks her business and love life desperately need. Rob’s still punishing himself for a broken relationship that wasn’t meant to last. When the pair let an opportunity pass them by, fate steps in and throws them back together.

An evening of pitch black unrestrained passion at Club Blind opens her eyes to life’s possibilities. Now, if they don’t fight past their personal demons, they might never truly discover what they need most. If they can open their hearts, it might lead them directly to each other where they can discover their truth. If not, they may forever stay in the blind.

Where you can find IN THE BLIND:


IN THE BLIND Excerpt:

The door continued to open every few minutes. Finally, the woman in front of Jane was taken away. She could see nothing past the door besides black. Until the door closed, she continued gazing into the darkness. How would the loss of sight change the experience? Would she feel more? What would he feel like? Nerves shook through her limbs, and sweat tickled her palms.
The door opened, and she stood straight as a statue. This was crazy. She searched for pockets in her robe. When she found none, she swallowed back a curse.
The escort stopped in front of her. “Are you having second thoughts?” He shifted the goggles higher on his forehead.
“Maybe.”
“Would you like to step back and wait to go or ...” He stepped back and cracked the door open. “Sometimes it helps to hear the sounds of the other participants.”
She closed her eyes and took in the moans and let her mind drift to what her body would feel like to make her make those kinds of sounds.
“I don’t want to pressure you. Tell me what you want.”
“Thank you.” She opened her eyes and took a step towards him. The only way was forward. “I’m ready.”
“Good for you.” He reached out and took hold of her hand. “Come on, I’ll take you to the lucky one, for tonight.” He winked and tugged her forward.
Once the door closed behind them, Jane was surrounded by unending black. She looked around, but there was nothing, no end to the darkness. A nervous shiver danced along her spine, followed by thoughts of haunted houses. What would she find around the next corner? Her escort tugged her forward, bringing her back to the night's purpose.
She needed to remember why she was here. She needed to live in the moment. There was a good chance she was about to touch the man who would give her release.
They slowed, turned a corner, and after a couple more steps they stopped. She swallowed the lump in her throat when her escort placed her hand into another’s.
“Enjoy.” He squeezed her shoulder, and she sensed his presence leave the space.
A pull on her hand forced her feet forward a couple of steps. She stopped just as abruptly when she bumped into a hard chest—the man of the hour. This man would touch her soon, but he wasn’t yet. He was only holding her hand. Her breasts moved with her uneven breathing, and her nipples scraped against his chest.
Why wasn’t he touching her? Was he nervous, too, or having second thoughts? She reached up in curiosity to make sure he wasn’t wearing a pair of night-vision goggles, but only found soft hair. She followed the section of hair to above his shoulder and continued onto smooth skin and around his shoulder to his bicep thick with muscle. Her heart thumped, and her breath quickened as moisture covered her needy pussy.
She breathed deeply, taking in his delicious musky scent. Her hand wandered to his chest and found more of the same, firm skin rounding over firm muscles. A warm hand landed over hers and held her hand tight to his chest. A nose tickled her ear.
“Do you like?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“I’d like to explore you now, okay?”
“Yes, please.”
She pushed out the breath she held and worked to breathe normally. His hand landed softly on her cheek, fingertips caressed her chin, and then up to her temple. The gentle touches raised a long sleeping yearning within her, and she leaned into his touch.
His thumb swept across her bottom lip. Curiosity wore away her reserve, and she let her tongue reach out and taste his fingers. One digit pushed into her mouth, and she sucked lightly, enjoying his clean taste.
The finger left her mouth, a second of waiting, and then his mouth crushed down on hers. His lips were firm and demanding, feeding her hunger. He ran his fingers through her hair, and then his warm wet tongue swept through her mouth. Back and forth, deep, then gentle, their tongues dueled. She explored more of him as her need to know him intimately soared.
His touch lingered around her shoulders and down her sides. When he found her ass, he kneaded the globes. The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, leaving her wanting.
She heard nothing but the driving rhythm of the music, each track feeding right into another. The current song enchanted her, and her hips swayed. No one could see her, so there was no reason for self-conscious thoughts. The brilliance of the club hit her with full force. It didn’t matter who she was or who he was. Tonight, they celebrated life and the pleasures they could bring their bodies. Everyone deserved pleasure. Even her.


S.J. MAYLEE Bio:

S.J. Maylee fell in love with storytelling at a young age and with it came a deep-seated desire for everyone to find their happily ever after. She’s finding the happy endings for her characters one steamy story at a time.

When she’s not reading or writing, you can find her caring for her garden, laughing with her two young sons, or dancing to her husband’s music. She’s a PMP (Project Management Professional), Nia instructor, and coffee addict.

As a writer she has a tendency to break hearts, but she always glues them back together.



Friday Quote
"Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination. The sky's the limit. Your sky. Your limit. Now. Let's dance."

Guest Author @ElyzabethValey Interviews The God of Love - Arcanus Amator by Elyzabeth M. Valey


An Interview with The God of Love

Hi everyone! I’m thrilled to be here today with none other than the God of Love, Cupid!
*Cupid tilts his head in acknowledgment, his locks gleaming under the sunlight like sparks of gold beneath a river bed. He smiles at me from the other side of the garden table.*
Cupid: I am pleased to be here and thankful to you for retelling my child’s story. There are some valuable lessons in Arcanus Amator.
Elyzabeth: For instance?
Cupid: Not all that glitters is gold. There is light in darkness. We can be blind to that which lies in front of us.
*He bursts out laughing. His blue eyes twinkle.*
Cupid: I recommend readers pick up the book and discover them themselves.
Elyzabeth: Of course, but I would interview you if that’s all right.
Cupid: Certainly.
Elyzabeth: Can you tell us how it is to be in charge of the world’s most important emotion?
Cupid: It’s a very big responsibility, Elyzabeth. That’s why I have my children to help me.
Elyzabeth: Ah, yes, the Arcánús. They’re also your guard, no?
Cupid: Not my guards. They are the guardians of love. They’re the ones that help me bestow love upon others.
Elyzabeth: But they’re also deadly.
Cupid: If the need arises…
Elyzabeth: Like with Ariadna.
*Cupid frowns. He folds his hands over the table and stares into the distance for a few seconds.*
Cupid: Yes, as it happened the witch Ariadna proved to be a curse.
Elyzabeth: Figuratively and literally.
*Cupid says nothing. His long fingers wrap around his tall glass of water and he takes another sip of water. As he sets his glass down, he looks at me.*
Cupid: Yes. She cursed the Arcanus because she was blind to love.
Elyzabeth: Blind to love? Are you sure that it wasn’t simply that the Gods of love neglected her.
*Cupid leans forward. The friendly gleam in his eyes has vanished and is replaced by a silent power I can’t help but feel uneasy.*
Cupid: Love is there for everyone to grasp, Elyzabeth. However, sometimes we are blind to it. *He raises his hand to silence me.*
It can be because we’re too busy working or because we’re pursuing other interests. At times it can happen as quickly as lightening falls from the sky and at other times it can take years, but it is there. We neglect no one.
Elyzabeth: All right, all right. But Ariadne--
*Cupid laughs*
Cupid: Doomed herself and—
Elyzabeth: Arcánús Amator spell?
Cupid: Was a little something I concocted, but I do not have much more time to spare, Elyzabeth.
*I stand with Cupid as he pulls his chair back from the table.*
Know this, love, like life, is a complicated game, but it is better to have loved one night than to not love forever.
*Cupid places his hands over his heart as he speaks. I follow his gaze as he stares up at the bright blue sky. When I look at him again, he’s gone.*
Elyzabeth: Thank you, Cupid and thank you readers. I hope you enjoyed this brief, yet I think intense interview with the God of Love. 


Arcanus Amator by Elyzabeth M. Valey

As an Arcánús, one of Cupid’s blessed children, Amandus’s mission in life was to aid his father in bestowing love upon others.Unfortunately, when he found his own soul mate he was incapable of making her perceive their connection. Furthermore, she doomed their love forever. Amandus’s only hope is a spell concocted by Cupid: The Arcánús Amator: Spell of the Secret Lovers.

Hailey is desperate for love. She’s so desperate that when she finds a spell on the internet that promises to connect soul mates, she decides she must try it. Convincing her friend Hannah to help her, the girls embark on a one-night craze that will produce life-changing results and bring to life what was thought to be only a myth.




Buy Links
Evernight
 Amazon
Amazon.uk
Bookstrand
 All Romance Ebooks

Author Bio:
Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.
Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she'll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.
Stalk me at:
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Excerpt:



She frowned. “What the hell’s happened?” She was quite sure this was not how the spell worked. Granted, she hadn’t exactly read the entire information sheet on the website.
“No one does,” she whined, bouncing on the balls of her feet while staring at the flickering flame of the candle. The thing was more than 20 pages long. It was like reading one of those software agreements. No one read the damn thing. She’d read the instructions and the first page with all the warnings and that was more than enough. Taking a deep breath, she managed to settle her nerves a little. Everyone thought she was the ditsy blonde obsessed with the occult, but she wasn’t. She was a hard worker, impatient when things didn’t go as expected. It was partially the reason why she’d filed through so many relationships. Why stay with a guy when he clearly had nothing to offer? Some of her friends argued that she didn’t give them a chance. She begged to differ. She’d given them a chance, they just hadn’t taken it. 
True, her impatience sometimes got her into some trouble but it also saved her from a lot of it. That, however, wasn’t the case now. Annoyed that the spell had gone awry, she brushed back her bangs impatiently. Whatever had happened was not important. The priority was getting Hannah back home. Scanning the room for her discarded laptop, she did a double take.
Obstructing the exit to the living room stood the most gorgeous man she had laid eyes on. He was massive. His head almost brushed the top of the doorframe. His heavily muscled arms were crossed in front of him, his chest bare except for the intricate design of a red-inked tattoo that started around his left nipple and descended across his side to his hip. Low on his hips, he wore a long black skirt made out of what looked like leather.
Hailey hesitated a moment before finally glancing fully at his face. Her breath stilled as their eyes locked. A clear shade of violet, they were not from this world. Swallowing, she took a step backwards without breaking her stare. The stranger’s eyes glittered with curiosity and amusement.  
“Careful with the center of the star,” he warned.
Hailey stumbled and froze. His voice was deep and commanding and had a familiar ring to it that sent her senses reeling. Shaking her head slightly, she continued moving away from him.
“Watch—”
Breath exploded from her lungs as she crashed into a shelf, a few ornaments she and Hannah kept, crashing to the floor.
“—out. Are you all right?”
Hailey winced, the back of the shelf digging into her skin, but she nodded anyway. The stranger flashed her a grin that made her knees weak. Hailey swallowed. The urge to see him smile again clawed at her insides like a desperate hunger.
Ignoring her, he glanced down at the pentagram, his silky dark curls framing his strong jaw and straight nose.
“You don’t look like you knew what you were getting into.”
Hailey held on to the bookcase behind her. She was afraid that if she moved the whole thing would topple over her head and she’d wake up, realizing that the man in the center of the room was nothing more than a dream.
“Read the first page of the instructions and didn’t bother to read the rest, huh?”
His eyes lifted to hers with a sassy smirk that lit up his violet eyes. Hailey stared speechless, the urge to touch the man making her palms itch as if she’d stepped into poison ivy.
“Yeah, you never did care what you got into, Ariadne.”
 Goose bumps sprouted over her flesh and she released the shelf, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm her suddenly chilled skin. Ariadne. The name rang in her ears like a long forgotten memory always running at the edge of her vision, just a breadth away from her grasp.
“I—”
No words came out as he carefully watched her face, almost as if saving every detail of her features into his memory. Her mouth felt parched, her tongue too large, as she searched for words that wouldn’t come.
 “Yes?”
Butterflies danced in the pit of her stomach and her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Fear mingled with a strange sense of joy. Names, places, and moments in time danced in the edge of her vision, taunting her to remember them, taunting her to say them aloud but fleeing before she could take hold of them.
“My name isn’t…”
The man raised his dark eyebrows, the shadow of a smile lifting the edge of his full lips.
“I know.”

“Oh.”


Musical Inspiration
Who doesn't love The Civil Wars? If it's you, that should be rectified immediately. Just saying.


Spotlight on Breach of Contract by J.R. Gray #EroticRomance @EvernightPub #GLBT
Breach of Contract by J.R. Gray
Sequel to Legally Bound
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Genre: GLBT, M/M, Erotic Romance

Blurb: With the legal trouble behind them, Daniel Caplin and Rafael Argon are ready to settle into a low key d/s relationship, but life is unrelenting, when blackmail shatters their illusion of happily ever after. Pictures from one of the Rafaels public scenes instill fear into his new Submissive, Daniel, acting as a wedge driving the new couple apart.
The building peril in Georges community weighs heavy on his shoulders as he struggles to find the culprit while hiding his feelings for his new house guest. Jesse is torn between ending his marriage, picking up a rebound he should have left fifteen years in the past, and the dangling carrot of a possible relationship with a man. He is forced to fight for what he wants most, a leap he may be too chicken to take.
            In the sequel to Legally Bound George battles to take down an unknown enemy, while watching helpless, as those he cares for most are broken beyond repair. Can Rafael and Daniel rebuild their trust after it's broken with lies?
Excerpt
            The back elevator dinged as he approached, and the doors slid back to reveal Jesse's face. He had circles under his eyes and worry lines in his forehead. Two fingers held a garment bag over one shoulder and a duffle over his other.
            Is it still okay if I stay? He put a smile on his lips that George knew was fake.
            But of course. Let me help you. George approached him and tried to take the bag, but Jesse didnt move to hand it over.
            Ive got it.
            Dont be absurd. I would have a slave do it, but hes rather tied up at the moment.
            The statement earned a chuckle out of Jesse, and he gave up the bag. Even hurt Jesse had a light in his blue eyes and his heart on his sleeve, a trait that made him wholly unique compared to the masks most wore to impress George.
            I can stay on the sofa or something if the slaves use the guest rooms.
            George laughed and turned his back to stalk down the hall. When he didnt hear Jesse following, he cast a glance over his shoulder.
            Slaves in bed how naive you really are, handsome.
            Jesse started after him, brow creased. Where do they sleep then? He caught up and followed George to the other side of the penthouse.
            He realized Jesse was serious, and he laughed throatily again. I have cages for them.
            I love you and Daniel, but your lifestyle is fucked.



Author Bio
When not staying up all night writing, J.R Gray can be found basking in the warm glow of the Miami sun, or at the gym where it's half assumed Gray is a permanent resident. A dominant, pilot, and sword fighting enthusiast, Gray finds it hard to be in the passenger seat of any car. Gray frequently interrupts real life, including normal sleep patterns, to jot down nonsense. The bane of Gray's existence are commas, and even though it's been fully acknowledged they are necessary, they continue to baffle and bewilder.

If Gray wasn't writingwell, that's not possible. The buildup of untold stories would haunt Gray into an early grave or possibly a mental institution where the tales would end up on the walls in crayon and finger paint.


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