Genre: Paranormal Romance, Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Eclipse Press
Publication Date: January 18, 2018
About Mary Auclair
Pandora is giving away The Dream Dominant Series 3 Book Bundle to three lucky winners. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.
About the Book:
Looking to raise money to expand the ranch’s business, she gratefully accepts her art school roommate’s offer of a gallery show in Manhattan. It’s been years since she was in the city, and she’s happy to visit her old friend.
Nik is in New York on business. He’s been traveling for nearly a month, enduring endless meetings, attending obligatory dinners, and battling jet-lag. On his way to yet another business dinner, his world collides with Petey’s one rainy Manhattan night.
Their mutual attraction is immediate, but Nik’s skeptical. Could it possibly be that this gorgeous, enchanting artist has no idea that he’s Europe’s most eligible prince?
Spending time with Petey is Nik’s first-ever taste of ordinary. What will happen when she finds out the truth?
Howard had been talking nonstop for twenty minutes. Each time Petey thought she’d found the opportunity to extricate herself, he continued his rambling, while edging ever closer, invading her personal space, and chatting about his work and his home in New Jersey. He seemed to be one of those individuals who was completely inept at picking up on social cues.
She’d just worked up the gumption to simply excuse herself the next time he came up for air, when she heard a familiar voice.
“There you are, darling!” Nik swooped in, handing her a glass of wine. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Will you ever forgive me?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.
Stunned, Petey stammered a bit. “Um, yes. Well…darling, yes, you certainly are late. What’s up with that? I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I know. But traffic was a nightmare, what with the rain. You just wouldn’t believe it.” Nik turned to Howard. “Who’s your friend?” He smiled pleasantly at the confused man.
“Oh, sorry. Nik, this is Howard. Howard, meet Nik.”
Howard worked his mouth, but was blissfully silent.
Nik reached to shake his hand. “So nice to meet you. If you’ll excuse us, I need to make up for lost time. Come, darling.”
He grasped Petey’s hand and led her to the opposite side of the gallery. When they reached a quiet corner, he turned and smiled at her.
She gave a relieved laugh. “Oh, my God, for the second time tonight, you saved my bacon.”
Nik laughed, too. “The exasperation on your face said that you needed rescuing. Who was he anyway?”
“Some guy that my friend Jules thought I should meet. I mean, he’s nice enough, but he had absolutely no sense of personal space. And he would notstop talking. Sheesh!”
“He’s probably just shy in the presence of such a pretty woman.” Nik’s blue eyes sparkled.
Petey rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” she said sarcastically. “I guess you ditched your business dinner?”
Nik nodded. “I did.”
She eyed him curiously. “What kind of business are you in?”
He paused a beat. “I’m in international finance and development.”
Warmth flooded her face, and she knew she was blushing. A sheepish smile curled her lips. “I have no idea what that means.”
He smiled, too. “I travel and meet with business people, mostly, occasionally politicians, and we discuss ways to improve our national economies, and ways to assist developing economies as well.”
“Oh. I’m sure Jules would understand completely. She has a sharp business mind. I’m just so,” she gave a self-deprecating chuckle, “right-brained.”
She fanned herself lightly with her hand. “So, you’d had enough of finances and development for one night?”
Nik nodded agreeably. “I’ve worked all day. As I sat listening to more business conversation, all I could think was that I’d like to attend the gallery opening of a promising young sculptor.”
Petey’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Well, if I hear of any, I’ll let you know.” They both laughed together.
“I just watched your video. Such an interesting way to introduce yourself to patrons.”
“Oh, that.” Petey blushed. “Jules flew out to Montana a couple of months ago. She hired a film crew to follow me for a day, do interviews and stuff. Then they just put it together.”
He regarded her curiously, eyes sparkling. “What are the chances you’d give me a guided tour of this incredible exhibit?”
She pretended to consider his request. “Well, you did see to it that I was put back together after being blasted by that tidal wave. And, you rescued me from being talked to death by a close-talking dentist. I’d say your odds are pretty good.” She laughed. “I think bringing me a glass of wine put you over the top, though.”
Nik laughed, too. “Lucky for me, then.”
“Lucky for you. Okay, let’s take a tour.”
Pandora Spocks is a sassy ginger and hopeless romantic, living her happily ever after in South Florida. She enjoys reading and writing literary erotic romance.
She is the author of the three-novel epic romance Rannigan’s Redemption, and a naughty little romantic novella, Just One Night. Her Dream Dominant Collection is a series of light BDSM stand-alone novels featuring sexy Alpha males and the strong red-haired submissives who can’t resist them. The collection currently includes three novels: Luke & Bella, Lost & Bound, and For Sparrow.
Pandora is busy on her laptop, working on her next spicy romance.
Kathleen will be awarding 3 lucky winners a $10 Amazon Gift Certiticate. Winners will be chosen randomly with Rafflecopter. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.
About the Book:
A desperate competition and sizzling attraction leads to dangerous desire.
New York Marine biologist Veronica “Roni” Keane is attending the Havana Bay Conference in Cuba. Tomorrow only one grant will be awarded which will provide the winner with professional recognition, resources for a project, and living expenses for two years. She hopes to continue her deceased father’s work, but smooth operator, Carlos Montoya, has won many grants in the past.
Carlos, a freelancer for the Havana Port Authority, works to help protect Havana’s reputation as a bastion of safety. As international travelers flock to the island, attracted by its 1950’s time-warp and colonial architecture, the drug business is running rampant, particularly on Roni’s cruise ship. Something’s not right, and when her scuba tanks are tampered with, Carlos brings in the military police to investigate. For her safety, he keeps her close, but he craves her body.
Their attraction leads to a fun night with a bit of kink. But Roni finds herself in more trouble than she bargained for when the criminals blame her for alerting the military police and come looking for her. Can Roni trust Carlos to protect her? Will she stay in Havana if Carlos wins the coveted grant, or kiss her lover goodbye?
An erotic romance with mystery.
— Chapter One
About the Author:
Release Day Blitz: Silver Fox
Author: Misha Elliott
Dates: 5th of Feb
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours
Richard Sisk has never been much of a risk taker. At 18 he gave up his dreams for the future to do the right thing and marry his pregnant high school love.
Over the years things change, and he receives a divorce as a birthday present.
Jill Caldwell has spent the last eight years caring for her younger brother being both sister and parent. Now that he is settled well into college, she finally has the gift of freedom.
Years ago, their lives crossed paths and now eight years later, will Richard be able to take a risk for a new love?’
Jill knows that together she and Richard can build a life of everything they ever wanted, that is if he can get over being her silver fox.
Misha Elliott is a nomadic soul, living all over the US with her Scottish husband. During their travels, she fell in love with the written word and put her hands on the keyboard to romanticize her journeys. When not writing you can find her at Scottish Highland games (she s there for the men in kilts) or at the beach…as long as it’s not hurricane season.
To find out more about Misha Elliott you can visit her at:
The Prison of the Angels intro:
If there’s a special Hell for the world’s worst girlfriend, I am condemned to it.
I killed Azazel’s daughter. Yes, it was in self-defense. Yes, Roshana was bleeding her father slowly to death to enhance her own five-thousand-year lifespan. I don’t think that makes much difference. The fact is, I put a foot-long iron blade through her skull. That makes me a murderer. And she was Azazel’s daughter. No matter what the circumstances, no father is going to be able to forgive that. Not even a fallen angel.
I thought I was a good girl. I thought that no matter what happened around me, no matter the company I kept, and no matter what others did for my sake, that I could stay innocent. I thought that, as long as I acted out of love, I’d be blameless.
I was wrong, wasn’t I?
I betrayed Azazel twice over. Not despite love, but for it. Even before I killed Roshana, I betrayed him. With Egan.
For love. For lust. For a need I don’t even understand.
I had everything with Azazel. The most beautiful and powerful man imaginable, if man is the right word for something far beyond human. His unquenchable passion and wicked appetite. The fierce protectiveness that went hand-in-hand with his dominance. And sometimes—just sometimes—a privileged glimpse of his secret vulnerability. Oh, I just did not pay enough attention to how easily I could hurt him. He’s a hurricane made flesh, but in the still center of that terrible destructive power he has his fears and his loneliness just like the rest of us. He responds with instant visceral panic if I grab his wrists. He’s afraid of confinement, and control, and underground places. He’s desperately afraid that I will stop loving him. Well, he was.
He trusted me, and I broke that trust.
I wanted him to desire only me—I told him I needed him to stay away from other women—and at the same time I went and fell in love with someone else. A mere man. An emotionally-messed-up mortal whose one aim, moreover, is to lock Azazel back in his eternal prison. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?
I am a jealous, hypocritical whore.
I am a murderer.
I always thought I was a good girl, but it’s just not true. And it isn’t even Azazel who brings out the worst in me, as you might expect of a demon. There’s a darkness in my soul that surfaces in Egan’s presence, though the poor guy has done nothing to deserve it.
And now I have nothing. Not Azazel. Not Egan. Egan does love me, but he’s a goddamn celibate Catholic priest and his first loyalty is to God. Roshana smashed his legs to pulp and I surrendered him back into the hands of his creepy, secret Vatican conspiracy, Vidimus, because there was no one else who could save him.
I haven’t seen Egan in weeks.
If this is Hell, it’s exactly what I deserve.
Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.
Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.
She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether – torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.
But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.
Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.
Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.
This time, the choices she makes will change everything.
This time it’s the End of the World.
The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.
Excerpt from The Prison of the Angels:
The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.
I fell forever.
Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.
I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.
Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.
Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.
I tried to cry out.
Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.
“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”
“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.
“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.
I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.
“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.
He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.
“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”
I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.
I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.
Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?
Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”
“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.
He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.
Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.
The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.
My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.
He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.
I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.
Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.
Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.
Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.
Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.
Her work has been described as:
“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa
Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/
Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless
Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk
Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-4/