Thursday, December 1, 2016

Blog Tour Review & Giveaway!- A Veil of Vines by Tillie Cole

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Title:  A Veil of Vines  
Author: Tillie Cole  
Publication Date: November 27th 2016 
Plot: To most people, princes, princesses, counts and dukes are found only in the pages of the most famous of fairytales. Crowns, priceless jewels and gilded thrones belong only in childhood dreams.
But for some, these frivolous fancies are truth. 
For some, they are real life. 
On Manhattan’s Upper East Side, people have always treated me as someone special. All because of my ancestral name and legacy. All because of a connection I share to our home country’s most important family of all.
I am Caresa Acardi, the Duchessa di Parma. A blue blood of Italy. I was born to marry well. And now the marriage date is set. 
I am to marry into House Savona. The family that would have been the royals had Italy not abolished the monarchy in 1946. But to the aristocrats of my home, the abolition means nothing at all.
The Savonas still hold power where it counts most.
In our tight-knit world of money, status and masked balls, they are everything and more. 
And I am soon to become one of them.
I am soon to become Prince Zeno Savona’s wife…
… or at least I was, until I met Achille. 
And everything changed.
 My Review 

☆ I received an ARC via Ardent Rose PR in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!! ☆

This was my first Tillie Cole read but not my last.  As soon as I read this plot concept it already appealed to me.  I've always been fascinated with Italy and its aristocracy so seeing it come to life in a modern setting caught my attention right away.

I'm not going to lie, some of this story just felt like a fairytale.  Stuff you would read just in stories.

BUT!  Don't let that damper your reading experience.  It was still a super cute read that I found beautifully written.  I think what wowed me was the exotic scenery that Tillie creates.  I felt as if I was transported to one of those rare wonders that you only wish you could first hand experience.

As for the characters, Caresa and Achille were kind of like a Romeo and Juliet minus coming from feuding families.  What  I mean by this is the fact that Caresa already is betrothed to someone, A PRINCE at that, and Achille is no one-- hence, them being star crossed lovers in fair Italy.

As for Zeno, the Prince.  He was actually much different from what I thought he was going to be.  Sure, he had a lot of the cliched characteristics we expect from the rich, powerful and good looking, but there was also a humane side to him that made him ultimately in the end relatable and endearing.

I can't go into more about the story as I don't want to divulge any spoilers as to what happens or who wins the girl so I'll end my review around here.  I do wish Tillie would consider writing a sequel for the other man.  I REALLY do.

Happy reading ladies!!

Kawehi

My Rating:
 Excerpt 

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Caresa

As my papa’s G5 began its descent, I looked out of the window beside me and waited for the plane to break through the clouds. I held my breath, body tense, then suddenly the burnt-orange remnants of daylight flooded the plane, bathing the interior with a soft, golden glow. I inhaled deeply. Italia.
Fields and fields of green and yellow created a patchwork quilt below, rolling hills and crystal-blue lakes stretching as far the eye could see. I smiled as a sense of warmth ran through me.
It was the most beautiful place on earth.
Sitting back in my wide cream leather chair, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself for what was coming. I was flying to Florence airport, from where I would be swiftly taken to the Palazzo Savona estate just outside of the city.
I would meet Prince Zeno.
I had met him twice before—once when I was four, of which I had no memory, and again when I was ten. The interaction we’d had as children had been brief. If I was being honest, I had found Zeno to be arrogant and rude. He had been thirteen at the time and not at all interested in meeting a ten-year-old girl from America.
Neither of us had known at the time that that our betrothal had been agreed upon two years prior. It turned out that the trip my papa had taken to Umbria when I was eight was to secure a forever-bond between the Savonas and the Acardis. King Santo and my father had planned for their only children to marry. They were already joined in business; Zeno’s arranged marriage to me would also strengthen both families’ place in society.
I thought back on my New York farewell of nine hours ago and sighed. My parents had driven me to the private hangar and said their goodbyes. My mama cried—her only child was leaving her for a new life. My papa, although sad to see me go, beamed at me with the utmost pride. He had held me close and whispered, “I have never been more proud of you than I am right now, Caresa. Savona Wines’ stock has plummeted since Santo’s death. This union will reassure all the shareholders that our business is still strong. That we are still a stable company with Zeno at the helm.”
I had given him a tight smile and boarded the plane with a promise that they would see me before the wedding. And that had been that.
I was to marry Zeno, and I hadn’t protested even once. I imagined to most modern-day women living in New York, the process of arranged marriages sounded positively medieval, even barbaric. For a blue blood, it was simply a part of life.
King Santo Savona died two months ago. The shareholders of his many Italian vineyards, the stakeholders in Savona Wines, had expected his son, Zeno, to immediately step up and take charge. Instead, Zeno had plunged himself into the party scene even harder than before—and that was quite a feat. Within weeks my papa had flown out to Umbria to see what could be done.
The answer: our imminent union.

 About the Author 

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Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

Author Links:

 Giveaway! 

One winner gets a Signed Copy of A Veil of Vines + Limited-Edition The Future Mrs. Marchesi T-Shirt


 Buy Links 

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Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Blog Tour Review & Excerpt Tour!- Heat Wave by Karina Halle

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Title:  Heat Wave
Author: Karina Halle  
Publication Date: November 16th 2016
Plot: They say when life closes one door, another one opens.
This door happens to lead to paradise.
And a man I can never, ever have.

~~~

Still grieving the loss of her sister who died two years ago, the last thing Veronica "Ronnie" Locke needed was to lose her job at one of Chicago’s finest restaurants and have to move back in with her parents. So when a window of opportunity opens for her – running a kitchen at a small Hawaiian hotel – she’d be crazy not to take it.

The only problem is, the man running the hotel drives her crazy:
Logan Shephard.
It doesn’t matter that he’s got dark brown eyes, a tall, muscular build that’s sculpted from daily surfing sessions, and a deep Australian accent that makes your toes curl.
What does matter is that he’s a grump.
Kind of an asshole, too.
And gets under Ronnie’s skin like no one else.

But the more time Ronnie spends on the island of Kauai, falling in love with the lush land and its carefree lifestyle, the closer she gets to Logan. And the closer she gets to Logan, the more she realizes she may have pegged him all wrong. Maybe it’s the hot, steamy jungles or the invigorating ocean air, but soon their relationship becomes utterly intoxicating.

There’s just one major catch.

The two of them together would incite a scandal neither Ronnie, nor her family, would ever recover from.

Forbidden, Illicit, off-limits – sometimes the heat is worth surrendering to, even if you get burned.

Note: this is a standalone novel, unrelated to any previous books. It does NOT contain cheating of any kind.
 My Review 

☆ I received an ARC via Inkslinger PR in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!! ☆

I haven't been reading Karina Halle as long as everyone else but ever since I discovered her I have not been able to resist any new release from her. They're that darn captivating.

Heat Wave was another win for me. I've been kind of on a roll for the most part of hit reads and this one was a definite winner in my book.

I'm not going to lie though. ANY novel that involves my homestate of Hawai'i makes me EXTREMELY pensive since it almost always feels that we are mocked or portrayed in a strange light, but Karina managed not to irk me at all with its depiction. Thank god.

Over all though, the plot, the characters and everything were pretty solid. Complicated, but solid. And hey, it bases around a 'forbidden relationship' and those of you who follow my reviews will know that I have an addiction for those types of reads!!

Certainly would recommend this to anyone!

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Kawehi


My Rating:
 Excerpt 

I saw him first.
It shamed me to think it then, it shames me to think it now.
But that’s what the truth does to you sometimes. It shames you because it’s only in the truth that you realize how human you really are. What a raw, devastating thing that is, to embrace your humanity and learn to live with all your sharp points, the hollow places, the cracks and the crevices. To be utterly real. To be terribly flawed.
Those cracks had always been forming inside me, slowly making their way to the surface over the years. In my family, there wasn’t much you could do but try and hold yourself together, to stick glue on your wounds, to paste over the imperfections. But the cracks still grew, until all of us were held together by crumbling cement, just statues waiting to collapse.
That was years and years ago. I was just twenty-two at the time. A baby. I’m still a baby in the grand scheme of things, but there’s something precious about your early twenties, where you think you’re so much older, bigger, than you are, where life is just about to deliver the crushing blows that will knock you off your feet for the rest of your days. The small things become the big things and the big things become the small things and you aren’t quite sure when they made the switch.
But in the end, I saw him first. He was mine, even before he knew it. He was mine in some strange way that I still don’t understand. The only way I can think of to explain it is…
You just know.
There are moments in your life, people in your life, that when they cross your path and meet your eye, you know. Maybe it’s all in the chemistry, certain pheromones that react when they mix together, maybe it’s a smell that triggers a memory, maybe it’s a glimpse at a future you don’t recognize or a hint at the past, a life you’ve lived and forgotten. Whatever it is, you know that moment, that person, is going to shape you for the rest of your life.
That’s what it was like when I saw him. Standing over by the windows and staring out Lake Michigan, like he was wishing he could be anywhere but there.
I wished the same. My mother’s the deputy mayor of Chicago and this was another one of her fundraisers I felt obliged to attend. It was tradition in my family, for my father, for me, for my sister, to show up and wave the flag of support. It didn’t seem to matter that the stuffy politicians that surrounded these events never paid me any attention. And if they did, it was the wrong kind of attention, always the sixty-year-old man leering after the young thing with the nice smile.
Luckily I didn’t smile all that often. My resting bitch face took over whenever I was deep in thought, which was pretty much all the time.
But this guy…I felt a kinship with him. I felt like I knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling, and that it was completely wrapped up in and connected to everything that was going through me.
I don’t know where I found the nerve to go over and talk to him. He seemed so much older, not quite the sixty-year-old politicians I was used to seeing, but maybe in his early-thirties. More than that, there was some kind of aura around him. Sounds stupid, I know. Whatever it was, it was like he belonged in some whole other universe than here, a star on earth, permanently grounded and yearning to be in the sky.
It was usually Juliet’s job to go around and make everyone feel warm and comfortable at these events—hell, in every event—but she wasn’t here yet. And though I could have easily stayed in the shadows, I was pulled to him, like he had a wave of gravity whirling around him.
I remember what I was wearing. Strappy flats because I hated wearing heels, a knee-length cocktail dress in emerald green, sleeveless, high-neck. It made me look older and I wore it because my mother always wanted me to look like a lady.
With a glass of champagne in hand, I made my way over to the windows, my heart racing the closer I got to him. He looked taller up close, well over six feet. His shoulders were broad, like a swimmer’s, and suddenly I had a vision of him diving into the lake. The navy blue suit he was wearing looked well-tailored but he seemed uncomfortable in it, like he couldn’t wait to get rid of it.
I stood beside him for a moment, following his gaze out the window. He seemed lost in his thoughts but out of my peripheral his head tilted slightly and he brought his eyes over to me while I kept staring at that wide expanse of water, stretching out to the horizon.
“Can’t wait to get out of here?” I asked, but though my tone was mild, my delivery was bold. It was as if someone else had taken a hold of my body, forcing me to speak. I slowly turned my head to meet his eyes.
I was taken aback for a second. He was staring at me like he knew me, even though I’d never seen him before. Then again, I was sure I’d been staring at him in the same way. That feeling of knowing. He knew me, I knew him, and who the hell knows how that was possible.
His eyes were brown—are brown—dark with currents of gold and amber, giving them beautiful clarity. Slightly almond shaped. His brows were also dark, arched, adding to the intensity of his gaze. He’s the type of guy whose eyes latch onto you, dig deep, trying to sift through the files of your life, see who you really are.
“How did you know?” he asked, a full-on Australian accent rumbling through his gruff voice. It made my stomach flip, my core smolder. How deed you now, is what it sounded like. Funny how I stopped hearing the accent after time.
I gave a half shrug and looked back to the party. More people had flooded the room, mingling around the appetizers. My mother was in the corner, a crowd of politicians around her. She didn’t see me. She never did.
“Because I think I’d rather be in the middle of Lake Michigan too,” I told him, “then be stuck here with all these people.”
“These people,” he repeated. My focus was drawn to his lips, full, wide, tilting up into a smirk. Beneath them was a strong chin and even sharper jaw, dusted with a five o’clock shadow that seemed permanent, like the man couldn’t get a clean shave even if he tried. “How do you know I’m not one of these people?”
“Because you’re over here and not over there. How come you keep answering my questions with more questions?”
He studied me for a moment. My blood pounded in my head and I felt a giddy kind of thrill at how this was progressing. If anything, I was proud for holding my own with this handsome stranger. He was the first man I ever really felt at ease with.
He cleared his throat, offered me a quick smile before he nodded at the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. “She almost looks like the ocean, doesn’t she?”
“Not quite the same as Australia, I would imagine.”
“No hiding this accent, is there?” He glanced at me and stuck out his hand, which I shook for a moment, warm palm to warm palm. “I’m Logan Shepard. Australian. And the reason I’m here is because I was invited by a friend of mine. I’m only in town for a few days and he didn’t want to go alone. He’s over there.” He nodded at a tall black man in the corner, listening intently to another man.
 “Warren Jones,” he said, as if I should know him. Perhaps I should. He probably thought I was one of them. “He’s local and the key piece to my investment.”
I wasn’t one for business talk—I never had anything to contribute other than lamenting student loans—but I wanted him to keep talking. “What’s your investment?”
“Starting my own hotel,” he said. “In Hawaii. Have you ever been there?”
“Once. When I was eight. I think we were in Honolulu. I remember a city, anyway. Waikiki Beach.”
“This hotel is in Kauai. The Garden Isle. Went there once as a teenager and couldn’t get it out of my mind.”
I didn’t know the right things to say. I wanted to ask more about the hotel, what it means when you have an investor, but I didn’t want to appear dumb. I kept my mouth shut.
“You haven’t introduced yourself,” he said. “Protecting a secret identity?”
I smiled, close-lipped. “Not really. I’m Veronica Locke. American. And I unfortunately I don’t have much else to add to that.”
“Locke?” he repeated, eyes darting to my mother. “Are you the daughter of the deputy mayor, Rose Locke?”
“One of them,” I told him.
He nodded quickly. “I see. No wonder you’d rather be in the middle of the bloody lake. I bet you have to do this stuff all the time.”
“It’s not so bad.” I took a sip of my drink so I didn’t have to say anything more and looked away at the crowd. The bubbles teased my nose, making my eyes water.
I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke. “I’m sure you have plenty more to say about yourself though. Where do you work? Student?”
“Culinary arts,” I told him. “I’m one of those crazy people who dream of being a chef one day.”
He frowned. “Why is that crazy?”
I gave him a look, forgetting that most people have no idea how hard it is. “Because it’s a long road, long hours, and nothing is guaranteed. People think being a chef is easy. They see Gordon Ramsey or Nigella Lawson and think it’s all fame and food and money and they have no idea what it’s really like. I’m not even out of school and already I feel half-beaten.”
He was still frowning. He did that a lot, I would soon learn. “Sounds like life to me.” His eyes dropped to my lips and something intensely carnal came over them, like suddenly I was the food, not the wannabe chef. “Did you want to get a drink somewhere. After this? When you’ve done your daughterly duties?”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what a drink meant. Just a drink? A date? Was it sex? I started going through my head, trying to think of reasons why it was a bad idea. My legs were shaved, did my bra and underwear match? Did I have a condom? I had taken the pill this morning, even though my last boyfriend and I had broken up months ago. I hadn’t been with a guy, let alone a man, in a long time.
Don’t flatter yourself, I quickly thought. What makes you think he’d be interested in you that way?
“Yes,” I said when I finally found my voice. “Yes, I would like that.”
A spark flashed in his eyes, lighting them up in such a way that made my toes literally curl. Damn. I was in trouble with this man. “Any way you can get out of your duties sooner?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but smile, raising my brow at his presumptuousness, while simultaneously trying to hide the fact that I was freaking out. I looked around the room and tried to judge how likely it was that someone would notice if I was gone. My mom was still surrounded by a wall of people and no one was paying any attention to us, standing by the windows, already removed.
A sad thought hit me, sliding past before I could really dwell on it: no one even notices when I’m here.
“If we’re quick and sneaky,” I told him.
“Being quick isn’t in my repertoire,” he said, “but I could give it a shot.”
Again. Damn. I wasn’t one to blush but I could feel my cheeks heating up and hoped my skin supressed the flush. He was so much older than me in so many ways, the last thing I wanted was to appear the naïve schoolgirl.
And I didn’t know what to say to that. He was staring at me with those dark eyes, a look so intense yet sparkling with charm and something…wicked.
I’d never find out how wicked they could be.
“Ronnie!” A melodic, ultra-feminine voice sliced through the moment like an unwieldy machete, causing me to flinch, my fingers tightening around the stem of the glass.
Oh no, I thought. Not now.
Logan’s head swiveled toward the sound of the voice, like a hound picking up a scent. I didn’t bother looking over, I kept my focus on him, watching his expression intently. It changed, as I knew it would.
She had walked into the room.
He saw her.
And like it was for so many men, that look of lust I had thought was for me, was now for her.
That’s when I knew it was over. Whatever thing I had felt for him, it didn’t matter anymore, not when she was in the room. Nothing ever mattered as long as she was around.
I might have saw him first.
But he was all hers after that.

 About the Author 

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With her USA Today Bestselling The Artists Trilogy published by Grand Central Publishing, numerous foreign publication deals, and self-publishing success with her Experiment in Terror series, Vancouver-born Karina Halle is a true example of the term "Hybrid Author." Though her books showcase her love of all things dark, sexy and edgy, she's a closet romantic at heart and strives to give her characters a HEA...whenever possible.

Karina holds a screenwriting degree from Vancouver Film School and a Bachelor of Journalism from TRU. Her travel writing, music reviews/interviews and photography have appeared in publications such as Consequence of Sound, Mxdwn and GoNomad Travel Guides. She currently lives on an island on the coast of British Columbia where she’s preparing for the zombie apocalypse with her fiancé and rescue pup.

Author Links:

 Buy Links 

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Thursday, November 10, 2016

Release Blitz & Giveaway! - Bucked by Frankie Love




Title: Bucked: The Mountain Man’s Babies
Author: Frankie Love
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 10, 2016



Blurb

BUCK

I want two things in life: a woman and a child.
When I walk into the diner and see Rosie, I think my motherf*cking dreams have come true.
We share one stolen afternoon, but then she’s gone.
Eight months later she shows up at my cabin.
Her belly swollen, her breasts full, and with the face of an angel.
Still, she wants to keep on running.
No way in hell am I going to let her go.
It’s not just Rosie that needs my protection­­––our babies do too.

ROSIE

Arranged marriages may be fine for some girls, but I’m not some girls.
I’m on the run with one goal: avoid my uncle and the plans he has for me.
What starts as a reckless afternoon, suddenly becomes a life tethered to a man I barely know.
I thought a pregnancy would buy my freedom.
But I was wrong.
And my uncle is ready to make someone pay.

*This is a novella







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK





Excerpt

“Thank you for making them leave,” she tells me, her eyes brimming with tears. “No one ever makes them back down; but you did, Buck. You made them run.”

“For you, I’d do anything.”

“You don’t even know me.”

I shrug, holding her in my arms. “Maybe not, but does it matter? You are a woman who needs a man to protect her. I’m here and willing. Let me be that for you.”

“Buck,” she says softly, her mouth parting. “Let me thank you for saving me.”

My hands run over her back, and then they cup her face, our gazes held on one another. “How do you want to thank me?”

“I want to thank you with the one thing I have to offer you.”

Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “Rosie, you have more than one thing to offer,” I tell her, not wanting her to believe that her only worth is in her body.

“Maybe so,” she says, licking her lips, her fingers on the front zipper of her uniform. “But this is the way I want to thank you. This is what I want to give.”

She pulls the zipper down and my cock goes rock hard. This woman is giving me more than a thank you. She’s giving me a fucking dream come true.



Author Bio

Frankie Love writes sexy stories about bad boys and mountain men.

❤Get ready to fall in love ... you deserve it!❤



Author Links

Monday, November 7, 2016

Blog Tour Review & Giveaway!- What Might Kill Us (The Devil's Dust, #5) by M.N. Forgy



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Can a biker have a Happily Ever After?


What Might Kill Us by M.N. Forgy is NOW LIVE!

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Title:  What Might Kill Us (The Devil's Dust, #5)
Author: M.N. Forgy
Publication Date: November 7th 2016
Plot: Brotherhood is what Bull bleeds and all that he knows.
Being the king of The Devil’s Dust and surrounded by easy women was his everyday… until having his heart broke rooted him to the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
Heartbroken, and drowning in lost memories he’s unsure of the direction of his life, when the answer – consisting of a terrified Mexican girl- nearly knocks him off his feet.
Determined to get his act together and rectify his club, he rides to Texas for answers, only to be confronted with the emotional ghosts he isn’t ready to deal with.
He sees Anahi, and he wants her.
But she may come with more baggage than Bull is ready for.

Anahi used to be prim and proper. She used to wear dresses and keep up appearances to impress people she didn’t know. I guess you could say she was a fucking lady.
But that was when she lived in Mexico with her parents.
Before her uncle turned on her.
Before, the only man she ever loved, her step-brother, betrayed her.
Before she was forced to be a drug mule for the Cartel.
Evening gowns a lost memory, expensive heels traded for boots, and a nine millimeter in her hand instead of a limited edition purse. Anahi sets aside everything she’s ever known including the fairytale stories her mother told her about America.
She’s angry, determined, and looking for a way out. 
 My Review 

☆ I received an ARC via TRSOR PR in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!! ☆

Sooo... after Babs died, I was not convinced that Bull would ever find a better woman than her or inherit a book of his own while trying to redeem him after this horrendous blow.  Consider me mind blown and 

Now, we all know that Bull was no saint and never claimed to be.  But after Babs' death, we see him spiral out of control on the verge to his own destruction.  Until, that is, Anahi shows up.

It was pretty interesting to see these two lost souls come together and give and take.  Bull, we already know that he is this bad ass motherfu*#er but Anahi is a completely new character to the Devil's Dust Series.  Anahi, just really is a pawn of manipulation.  She had no say in her life, and was rather forced into it, and just wants an out.
Bull, on the other hand, just wants to escape his self-loathing and misery and this one girl may be the one to help him.

I have always loved MN Forgy's writing from the very beginning.  It was fun, it was interesting, and man was it steamy and hell on wheels!

Bull was cool, but Anahi... I love that gal!  And what a cool name!!  This novel does not disappoint!

Kawehi

My Rating:

 Excerpt 

**Beware - x-rated**


“Bull?” my voice breathy.
“Yeah?”
“The last time I let someone close to me… it didn’t go well.”
He pecks a kiss on my erect nipple that was in his mouth seconds before.
“Anahi, Alvaro is a boy pretending to be a man, and I’m about to show you the difference between pretending and actually being,” he states matter of fact, his tone smug.
I smirk. “You’re so arrogant.”
He lifts his chin, his eyes finding mine. “Only one way to find out, darlin’,” he states wolfishly.  “I’m going to fuck you to the point you’ll have to take your time sitting down afterwards, baby.”
With that, the head of his length presses into me. My back arches off the bed, an audible gasp leaving my lips. Bull pushes in another couple inches, filling me to the point I swear I can’t take anymore. The sensation of burning and bliss battling with one another I can’t help but fidget beneath him. I don’t know whether to cry or moan.
He slips in more, filling me to the brink and a cry rips up my throat. Bull presses his lips against mine, silencing my pain.
Fucking me like he hates me, but kissing me like he cares.

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 About the Author 

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M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She's a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn't live with the "what if" anymore and finally took a chance on her character's story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

Author's Links:
Website  | Goodreads | Facebook  | Twitter 

 Other Works By M.N. Forgy: The Devil's Dust Series 

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Devil's Dust MC Series
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 Pre-Order Buy Links 

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 Giveaway!