Tag: Sunday Spotlight

Sunday Spotlight: Reckless Road by Christine Feehan

Posted January 17, 2021 by Casee in Features, Giveaways | 3 Comments

Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

Sunday Spotlight: Reckless Road by Christine FeehanReckless Road by Christine Feehan
Series: Torpedo Ink #5
Also in this series: Judgment Road , Judgment Road, Vengeance Road, Vendetta Road, Desolation Road
Publisher: Berkley
Publication Date: February 9, 2021
Format: eARC
Source: NetGalley
Point-of-View: Alternating Third
Content Warning: View Spoiler »
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Pages: 480
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Series Rating: three-stars

Refuel your passion with a new installment of the Torpedo Ink series by #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.

While Gedeon "Player" Lazaroff is one of Torpedo Ink motorcycle club's roughest members, he's also one of the calmest. Little rattles Player, except for the times his gift gets the better of him. When that happens, he has to just lie down in the dark and hope for the best. But on a night when he's on the verge of losing it, he meets a woman who manages to soothe his fractured mind.

Zyah is a striking, ethereal beauty who seduces him with every word and move. Their night together is one of pure, exquisite bliss. But when Player gets confused and thinks their intimate encounter was nothing more than a dream, his careless dismissal leaves her humiliated and angry.

Now, Player will have to devote his every breath to convincing Zyah to give him a second chance. Because she might be the only one who can save him from himself....


Three of Player’s brothers were in the common room. All traces of a wild party had been removed. He was grateful he had slept through the cleanup. Too many people could have thrown his brain right back into a meltdown. Code, Maestro and Preacher sat at the bar, and all three swiveled around to face him.

“What are you doing up?” Maestro demanded. “You had a bad migraine last night. Steele is coming in to check on you in another hour or so.”

Steele was their resident doctor. Player didn’t want him disturbed, not when he was feeling fine. Steele had a wife and child to look after, and Breezy, his wife, was about to get a surprise when Master drove up, bringing the woman with him from New Mexico. She’d been a friend of Breezy’s. Hopefully, she still was.

“You can tell Steele I’m feeling fine. I don’t even have a headache, but I could use coffee.”

Preacher went behind the bar and poured coffee into a mug, shoving it across the thick oak surface of the bar to Player. “You didn’t look so good last night. Master called in an SOS.”

“Yeah, the migraine was pretty bad, but the dancer you lined up for me managed to turn everything around.” Player tried to sound casual. “Thanks for that, by the way. She was a pretty phenomenal gift.”

The three men exchanged long, puzzled looks while Player took a sip of coffee. Maestro shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, bro.”

Player set the mug down on the bar. “The dancer. In my room. The belly dancer. You had to have paid her to be there right?” He was beginning to feel a little desperate. They were staring at him with blank faces, like he was a little crazy. He was beginning to think maybe he was. She had to be real. There were the candles. The condoms. Her scent lingering. No, damn it, she was real. “You knew I couldn’t be at the party, so you got me the dancer.” He sounded alarmed even to his own ears. Maybe he had finally gone insane.

“Player.” Maestro waved toward a chair as if he was worried Player might fall on his face. “You came in a day early. No one expected you. We don’t pay women to come here. You know that. If women come to party, they come with friends or another club. We never pay women. What’s this about?”

d eyes of his brothers to stare out the window into the parking lot. It was mostly empty of the vehicles that had been there the night before.

“I took a shower last night and went straight to my room,” he said. “My head was killing me. I intended to go to bed and sleep as long as I could. I knew I had to avoid everyone. The migraine was bad. I was pretty fucked up,” he admitted. He had to admit that. He wasn’t going to lie to them. If he was going insane, he needed to know.

He turned to face them. He had their complete attention. “My head was pounding like a mother. I barely made it to the room, slammed the door and leaned against it. The nightmare world my fucked-up brain creates had been busy working the entire time until I closed the door. Suddenly, I was in a completely different world and there was a dancer in my room.”

“Player,” Code said cautiously.

Player held up his hand. “Hear me out. This wasn’t some twisted version from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland from eating Alena’s hallucinogenic mushrooms when I was a kid with a warped imagination. The music, the bells, the candles, the condoms, hell, all of it, was real. When she talked or laughed, her body moved at the same time. It was subtle, but when she did, she had some kind of connection with the earth the way I have. Whatever it was, she managed to take away my headache completely.”

He sounded crazy even to himself. His brothers exchanged long looks while he hung his head, breathing hard.

Torpedo Ink

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Sunday Spotlight: January 2021

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Christine Feehan

I live on the beautiful Northern California coast and draw much inspiration from the beauty around me. I've always been a writer, for as long as I remember. My sisters were forced to read all of my books from the time I could write a story on paper.

I love family. I love my brothers and sisters, my children, my grandchildren and my great grandchildren. My home was always full of kids and children give me so much joy.

I also love my "sisters of the heart", those friends who have supported me through my life, laughed with me, cried with me and loved me regardless of how crazy my life got. I am a strong supporter of women helping each other which is why I became a third degree black belt and taught self-defense to women who'd been abused.

I love people and dogs, good books and great coffee and I'm lucky to know just how blessed I am.

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Sunday Spotlight: Blood Heir by Ilona Andrews

Posted January 10, 2021 by Holly in Features, Giveaways | 7 Comments

Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

As you know, all of us here at Book Binge are fans of the Kate Daniels series by Ilona Andrews. We were all very sad when the series ended, but we held out hope the authors would return to the world some day. That day has arrived. It’s Julie, y’all!! I can’t even tell you how excited we are to be back in this world, and to see more of Derek and Julie.

Sunday Spotlight: Blood Heir by Ilona AndrewsBlood Heir by Ilona Andrews
Series: Aurelia Ryder #1, Kate Daniels #10.5
Also in this series: Blood Heir, Magic Shifts, Magic Shifts, Magic Binds, Magic Bites, Magic Strikes, Iron and Magic, Magic Triumphs, Magic Bites, Magic Bleeds , Magic Burns, Magic Strikes , Magic Slays , Gunmetal Magic , Magic Rises , Magic Strikes, Magic Mourns, Magic Bleeds, Magic Dreams, Magic Slays, Gunmetal Magic, Magic Gifts, Magic Rises, Magic Tests, Magic Stars, Magic Shifts, Magic Steals, Magic Breaks, Magic Breaks, Iron and Magic, Magic Binds, Magic Triumphs
Publisher: Self-Published
Publication Date: January 12, 2021
Point-of-View: First
Genres: Urban Fantasy
Pages: 359
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From award-winning author, Ilona Andrews, an all-new novel set in the New York Times #1 bestselling Kate Daniels World and featuring Julie Lennart-Olsen, Kate and Curran's ward.

Atlanta was always a dangerous city. Now, as waves of magic and technology compete for supremacy, it’s a place caught in a slow apocalypse, where monsters spawn among the crumbling skyscrapers and supernatural factions struggle for power and survival.
Eight years ago, Julie Lennart left Atlanta to find out who she was. Now she’s back with a new face, a new magic, and a new name—Aurelia Ryder—drawn by the urgent need to protect the family she left behind. An ancient power is stalking her adopted mother, Kate Daniels, an enemy unlike any other, and a string of horrifying murders is its opening gambit.
If Aurelia’s true identity is discovered, those closest to her will die. So her plan is simple: get in, solve the murders, prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled, and get out without being recognized. She expected danger, but she never anticipated that the only man she'd ever loved could threaten everything.
One small misstep could lead to disaster. But for Aurelia, facing disaster is easy; it’s relationships that are hard.
Cover Art: Luisa Preissler


The moon was full and silver. It peeked at me through tattered clouds as I rode my horse down the old I-20, staying in the center of the highway. Magic had been chewing on the edges of paved roads for decades, and the asphalt near the shoulder often crumbled under the weight of a horse.

Nothing to see here, moon. Just a lone woman in a tattered cloak riding her horse into her home city after being gone for far too long.

Around me dense pines towered on both sides of the once busy highway. Glowing eyes watched Tulip and me from the darkness between the roots and branches, yellow for racoon, white for deer, green for foxes, electric red arranged into a triangle for hell alone knew what. The forest critters gave me the stink eye but kept to themselves.

The trees stopped abruptly, replaced by fields wrapped in razor wire. A sign loomed ahead.


We’re Glad Georgia Is on Your Mind

A bit optimistic of them.

Below someone had scribbled in white ink.

“Praise the Lord and get the fireballs ready.”

That was more like it.

A dark shape swooped above my head. The moonlight slipped over it, dancing on its feathers, and then it soared into the endless indigo of the sky. Like most eagles, Turgan didn’t like to fly at night, but something must’ve unsettled my raptor. He’d taken off the moment we left the ley line and refused to land on his perch on my shoulder.

Another sign jutted into the night.


Present to the Pack in 24 hours

Take I-85, head northeast, follow your nose.

Twenty-four hours? When I left eight years ago, foreign shapeshifters had three days to introduce themselves to the Pack. Times had changed.

A high, eerie howl floated up to the clouds on the night breeze. Not a shapeshifter. Just some garden-variety monstrosity venting to the moon. Too far to worry about. Tulip flicked her ears and kept going.

Shapeshifters were a paranoid, suspicious breed. Lyc-V, the symbiotic virus that gave them the ability to change into animals, came bearing many gifts. Some, like enhanced strength, speed, and senses, were beneficial. Others, not so much.

Those who changed shape lived lives of discipline and self-control. The other way lay loupism, a catastrophic plunge into hormone-addled hell that turned shapeshifters into sadistic spree killers. Loupism had no cure, except for a blade to the neck or a bullet to the brain.

Shapeshifters required the kind of structure that regular society could no longer deliver. They set themselves apart in packs, and the rest of the population, acutely aware that each shapeshifter was a spree killer in waiting, was happy to let them govern themselves.

Of all the shapeshifter packs active in the continental US, Atlanta’s Free People of the Code were the largest and by far the strongest. Most packs rarely reached over a hundred members. Atlanta’s Pack counted nearly three thousand shapeshifters and seven different clans, defined by their animal forms and unified under the rule of a Beast Lord. It was so large, that it was known simply as the Pack. Only the Ice Fury Pack in Alaska was larger.

A long time ago, I was one of the rare humans who were considered members of the Pack. I had lived in the Keep, the massive shapeshifter fortress northeast of the city. All my friends had grown fur and claws. Back then, the Pack had had a different Beast Lord, and he’d treated me like his younger sister.

The fields ended, and ruins began. I adjusted the weight of the spear in the sheath on my back, nudged Tulip, and she picked up speed. I had a morning appointment to keep on short notice.

The highway narrowed. We took an exit to the left onto Basilisk Road and followed it as it looped northeast, climbing through the exposed corpses of once tall apartment high-rises.

Magic hated technology. It came in waves, flooding the world, snuffing out electric lights and gasoline engines, chewing on skyscrapers, and spawning monsters. Then, as unpredictably as it appeared, the wave would wane, and technology once again came out on top. Spells fizzled, and guns once again spat bullets.

The taller the building, the harder magic gnawed on it. Most skyscrapers and office towers had fallen long ago. A lot of the overpasses had crumbled to dust or collapsed. The old skyline was but a distant memory.

In its wake, new buildings sprung up, built by craftsmen mostly by hand to minimize magic erosion. Here and there, the new structures hugged the road, solid homes and offices with thick walls, strong doors, and narrow windows guarded by steel bars. The soft yellow glow of electric lights fought with the gloom. The magic was down now. If it had been up, some of the grates on the windows would shine with silver and the blue radiance of fey lanterns would replace the electric bulbs.

The city looked the same as when I left it. It felt the same too, dangerous, indifferent, watchful, yet somehow still achingly familiar. Home, despite all the years I’d been gone. I’d been almost eighteen when I left. I was twenty-six now. It felt like a lifetime ago.

I never meant to be gone this long, and this wasn’t how I wanted to come back to Atlanta. My biological family was dead, but my found family was alive and well, and they’d wanted me back for a long time. In my mind, I would’ve called ahead, and they would meet me at the ley line, mob me, hug me, and we would all go home. That was the original plan.

But if I went home now, I’d be signing their death warrants. I had to stay off the radar, and I couldn’t afford to be recognized.

Not that I would be recognized. When most people came home after a long absence, their family said things like “You lost weight” and “Is that a new hair cut?” If I went home, my family would ask, “Who the hell are you?” Nothing about me was the same. Not my body, not my face, not my voice, or my scent.

A hint of movement on the left jerked me right out of my memories and into the present.

I was several blocks deep into a deserted street. On the left, a ruined heap of a building crouched, still steeped in night shadows. On the right, a wall rose, new construction, solid, thick, and topped with razor wire. Ahead, the street ended, as if sheared with a giant’s knife. A chasm gaped, dropping a full fifty feet down below, about a third of a mile across.

The chasm was new, but not surprising. Magic waves didn’t just birth monsters; they produced new rivers, raised hills, and split the ground. Atlanta had dealt with the chasm, as was evidenced by a single-lane wooden bridge spanning it.

The bridge wasn’t the issue. The three shapeshifters that moved out of the shadows to block it were.

There was absolutely no reason for a Pack patrol to be here at this hour. Their territory was all the way on the other side of the city. The timing wasn’t right either, just before dawn, when they should’ve been returning to the Keep, to perform their morning meditation and curl up for a nap like well-behaved monsters. Yet here they were, dressed in matching Pack sweats and blocking my way.

Atlanta was a bitch of a city.

Aurelia Ryder

Giveaway Alert

We’re giving one lucky winner their choice of one of our Sunday Spotlight books. Use the widget below to enter for one of this month’s features.

Sunday Spotlight: January 2021

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Ilona Andrews

“Ilona Andrews” is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing team. Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101, where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.)

Gordon and Ilona currently reside in Texas with their two children and many dogs and cats.

They have co-authored four NYT and USAT bestselling series, the urban fantasy of Kate Daniels, rustic fantasy of the Edge, paranormal romance of Hidden Legacy, and Innkeeper Chronicles, which they post as a free weekly serial. For complete list of their books, fun extras, and Innkeeper installments, please visit their website at Ilona-andrews.com.

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Sunday Spotlight: Heedless by Shannon McKenna

Posted January 3, 2021 by Casee in Features, Giveaways | 3 Comments

Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

Sunday Spotlight: Heedless by Shannon McKennaHeedless by Shannon McKenna
Series: The Hellbound Brotherhood #4
Publisher: Self-Published
Publication Date: December 4, 2020
Point-of-View: Alternating Third
Genres: Romantic Suspense
Pages: 308
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Whatever it takes to protect her...Security expert Nate Murphy came to Shaw's Crossing to kick ass and help the Trask brothers fight off their enemies. He didn't expect to get knocked off his feet by the elusive, gorgeous Elisa, the mysterious woman who works in Demi's restaurant. Elisa's holding something back...something big. Nate's a Marine and ex-bouncer whose specialty is breaking heads...but the fear in Elisa's eyes makes him want to crush whoever put it there. If only she would tell him the truth...

Secrets and lies...

Elisa Rinaldi is on the run from a killer. She doesn't dare expose him because he's holding her little brother captive. Hiding in the mountain town of Shaw's Crossing had seemed like a good idea at the time, but getting attached to the people there was not...particularly the hard-eyed, hard-bodied Nate Murphy. Because her new friends have big troubles of their own, and their trouble makes a lot of noise. Things have gotten messy in this town, with cops and media coverage everywhere. If she shows up on TV or online, she's dead...and so is her beloved brother.

Elisa has to leave Shaw's Crossing-after a parting gift to herself. One unforgettable night with Nate, and she'll do the right thing...even if it breaks her. The passion between them leaves Nate gasping for breath. Then Elisa vanishes. Nate can't rest until he finds her. He means to solve her problem once and for all...by any means necessary.

Elisa will risk everything to protect the man she loves, but Nate just won't back down. Now danger is coming from all sides, while her mortal enemy is playing a game of cat and mouse...

And the stakes are both their lives...


Nate had to go back a few times, to check on the water and gauge the temperature. In between times, he slid right back into the warm bed and wound himself around Elisa’s slender, silken one. So lithe and strong. Those beautiful, plump, perfectly shaped tits. So perfect for his hands, his mouth.

His dick was in a perpetual state of frantic eagerness whenever she was in his line of vision. Or his thoughts, for that matter. And the touch of her skin made his heart thud and his whole body instantly overheat into a thrum of raw need.

Wait. He had to pace himself. This wasn’t about him. He had to make it perfect for her. It was the iron-clad rule. Forever and always.

When the tub was finally full, he turned to find her already in the bathroom door, winding that long, night-dark curly mass of her hair into a thick messy knot on top of her head, and securing it with the black elastic tie she’d used for her braid.

He was speechless, his entire brain busy processing the sensory input of her naked beauty. Her eyes fell to his erection, and she gave him a teasing smile, her eyebrows going up. “Oh! So it’s that kind of bath?”

“It’s just a bath,” he assured her. “Any kind of bath you like. I don’t want to overdo it.”

“Speak for yourself, buddy.” She stalked past him, stroking his chest and arm as she went by, and her slow, teasing touch buzzed against his nerves like electricity.

He followed, helpless and dazzled. She moved like a queen. Regal, lofty. He could stare at her elegant back forever. The little wispy dark curls at her nape.

Nate stepped in front of her and went in first, down the steps and to the bottom of the hip deep tub. He held out his hand. When she took it, the contact was a soul touch. A mark of divine favor, and she was a goddess with the power to bless and transform him. To change his fate forever.

He couldn’t even pretend not to look at her. From her bold eyes and face and her body’s stance, she silently commanded it.

He took the opportunity to memorize every tiny perfect detail. The curly wisps of dark hair clinging to her cheekbones, the secret, mysterious smile in her golden eyes, the flushed, sexy lips. So full. Their beautiful, sensual shape.

She already acted so differently with him, after only a few hours of being lovers. Since they met, he’d admired her beauty and wanted to know her secrets, but she’d kept him at arm’s length. She’d struck him as fragile, brittle. Hunted.

She didn’t seem that way anymore. She felt her power now. He saw it in her eyes, in the tilt in her chin, in the way she held her shoulders. She flaunted her body as she descended slowly into the water, and sank down onto the bench, the steaming water now up to her collarbone. “Thank you,” she said demurely.

He followed her lead, and sat down next to her. But the natural magnetism of their bodies just pulled him toward her until their thighs touched.

“Is the temperature OK?” he asked. “It’s not too hot?”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “It’s delicious. Just like this.”

They floated there for a while, and he reached over, sliding his finger into her hand. He felt almost, oh God forbid, shy. He fished awkwardly for something to say.

“So, Gina says there’s a strip mall about twenty miles down the highway,” he said. “There’s an electronics store with gaming stuff there. I checked, and the site says it opens at nine. Plus there are clothing stores, so we can outfit you.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ll get my stuff back from Demi’s apartment if I survive. A change of clothes is the least of my worries right now.”

“You shouldn’t have to wait,” he said stubbornly. “We’ll just grab a few things.”

“Very nice of you, but not necessary,” she told him. “Is this part of your seductive lover-boy routine? Buying me fripperies?”

“No, just a simple to-do list,” he admitted. “I’m not the crafty scheming type.”

She floated out into the middle of the tub and spun around to face him, smiling into his eyes. “You’re sweet, Nate,” she said. “Did you know that?”

“No,” he said, bemused. “Not particularly.”

She surged forward and cupped his face in her hands—and kissed him.

God. He was so primed, he could have come then and there. By a hair, he fought it down, breathing it down, fists clenched. Her lips were so soft and sweet. A tender, velvety hidden secret that only he was privileged to know. It humbled him.

Her hands splayed over his chest. So trusting. The points of her nipples touched his chest, ever so slightly. Tiny twin kisses, every point of contact a bright glow of hyper-awareness.

Kissing her made him want to be worthy of her. To be better than he was.

Then she was on his lap, straddling him. Knees perched on the bench, right over his stiff, aching cock. Her body undulating against him with a sigh, the water heaving and sloshing around her shoulders. Inviting him to take whatever he wanted.

What, was this some sort of test of his resolve? Damn. He made a low sound, a groan of frustration, and lifted her gently up, holding her suspended in the water.

“Take it easy,” he complained. “We shouldn’t do it again so soon. You should rest. Take it easy. You’re killing me.”

“Am I?” Her small, secret smile drove him nuts. “Talk about mixed messages.”

“Don’t tease me,” he pleaded. “It is really fucking hard to say no to you.”

“So don’t,” she said. “If it’s hard to say no, it should be easy to say yes.”

She reached down to caress his dick. That twist-squeeze-pull, from root to the head, made him shudder and gasp. “What a waste of a beautiful hard-on,” she said. “Say yes, Nate.”

The water sloshed heavily as she stood up. Pink from the heat. Gleaming.

She sank down facing him on the top step, which was barely covered in water, and fixed her big, dreamy eyes on him, red lips parted, eyelashes tangled with drops of water. Trailed her hand down slowly. Over her breast, over her belly, and then lower, to the whorl of dark silky hair on her mound.

Her legs opened. “I just feel so hot,” she whispered. “But poor me…it looks like I’ll have to take care of this all by my lonely self, right?”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Really? You’re going to do this to me?”

“Well, technically speaking, it’s something that I’m doing to myself,” she mused. “What choice do I have, if I want this orgasm? And I do want it. I want it bad.”

He watched, hypnotized, at the stunning spectacle of her pale skin, her gleaming, luminous hot pink folds sensually caressed by her long, slender fingers. Parting herself, opening, showing him all of it. Her golden eyes were half-lidded, lost in a sensual dream. Completely unself-conscious. Owning him, taunting him, toying with herself. Watching him watch her, with that seductive smile.

He liked that energy. Playful, strong. Enjoying her pleasure. Egging him on. Fucking with his head, in the best possible way. It was agony, and he loved it.

“So strange,” she said, in a dreamy tone. “I don’t even know the person I am right now. You have the strangest effect on me. I go all naughty sexpot. I feel like some sort of celestial deity. Bow and tremble before my power, mortal.”

“I’ve always trembled before your power,” he said. “I felt it all along. You’ve just been a little distracted lately, so you haven’t felt it yourself.”

She laughed at that, but the it petered out, breathless, as she took her own sweet time. Eyes closed, head thrown back. Strands of her hair had tumbled loose, floating in the water, waving like seaweed. Lost in her pleasure. Unguarded.

She went rigid, and then he watched as pleasure rippled through her, shaking her like a storm wind. So fucking gorgeous.

And that was it. She’d won. Whatever might have remained of his self-control vanished. He didn’t even remember why he’d been trying to hold back.

Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as he reached for her.

The Hellbound Brotherhood

Giveaway Alert

We’re giving one lucky winner their choice of one of our Sunday Spotlight books. Use the widget below to enter for one of this month’s features.

Sunday Spotlight: January 2021

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Shannon McKenna

Shannon McKenna Author Photo

I started writing my first romance novel in secret. I was working a temp job in Manhattan at the time, supporting my music habit (details on that secret double life here) and even if there was nothing for me to do, I still had to look busy. But I hated wasting time, and I needed to round out my singing career. Most artists choose a practical Plan B to back up their improbable Plan A. Not me. "Long Shot" is my middle name.

So I set up a Document 2 with a fierce looking spreadsheet on it. If the boss du jour walked by, I switched screens. When the coast was clear, I went back to my story. One stern fact I learned from that experience is that you need more than just stolen crumbs of time and attention to make the magic happen. I also learned that every little crumb helps. Life is full of these little contradictions.

It wasn't until I moved to southern Italy (details of that long shot here) that I was really able throw my weight behind the writing. There I was, not a word of Italian, no job, no clue, just long, quiet days alone with nothing to do and no excuses. I finally slogged my way to the end of the short category romance that I’d been dinking around with for years. Kensington accepted it, bless them, and I had my start. I wrote four more category romances for that line before I got the chance for a place in an anthology of erotic novellas for the new Brava imprint. Then came my first single title novel, Behind Closed Doors—and my writing career took off.

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Sunday Spotlight: Her Wicked Marquess by Stacy Reid

Posted December 27, 2020 by Holly in Features, Giveaways | 4 Comments

Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

Sunday Spotlight: Her Wicked Marquess by Stacy ReidHer Wicked Marquess by Stacy Reid
Series: Sinful Wallflowers #2
Also in this series: My Darling Duke
Publisher: Entangled: Amara
Publication Date: December 29, 2020
Genres: Historical Romance
Pages: 400
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Series Rating: four-stars

Miss Maryann FitzWilliam is too witty and bookish for her own good. No gentleman of the ton will marry her, so her parents arrange for her to wed a man old enough to be her father. But Maryann is ready to use those wits to turn herself into a sinful wallflower.

When the scandal sheet reports a sighting of Nicolas Ives climbing out the chamber windows of a house party, Maryann does the unthinkable. She anonymously claims that the bedchamber belonged to none other than Miss FitzWilliam, tarnishing her own reputation—and chances of the dastardly union her family secured for her. Now she just needs to convince the marquess to keep his silence.

Nicholas Ives, Marquess of Rothbury has purposefully cultivated a reputation as the most ruthless, unprincipled libertine, all so he can slip beneath the guards of those whose vile actions caused him to lose the only girl he's ever loved. Despite his intrigue, Nicolas is determined to ignore the deceitful and enticing Miss FitzWilliam. However, his enemies are drawing close, and he soon discovers he must keep her closer to protect her. Nonetheless, she rouses a soul-burning passion within him, causing him to question who will protect her from his devilish wiles.


Maryann couldn’t credit that Nicolas St. Ives would be this outrageous! Her mama had not invited him to tonight’s ball, yet here he was, descending the wide staircase from the upper bowers, confidently striding, casting sardonic glances at debutantes, and with a sensual smirk about his mouth, declaring him every inch the rake society bemoaned.

He was considered improper, disreputable, and was even whispered by some to be cunning. He was also appallingly handsome, and many ladies who should have known better flirted with him shamelessly. He clearly did not give a fig what society thought about him, a thing Maryann had come to believe, since the scandal sheets reported on his exploits weekly.

“Is it really him?” a young debutante asked. “Oh my, he is terribly handsome.”

Her friends dissolved into giggles and drew her away, as if they were saving their fair gazelle from the lion drawing closer. The man seemed sublimely unaware of his masculine beauty and the stir he caused whenever he entered a room. His expression was insouciant; she could not conclude what kind of man he was.

A few gentlemen of the ton were vain about their appearance to the point of being rather excessive. And it seemed Nicolas St. Ives was one of them, dressed in black trousers and jacket, with a bright golden waistcoat and a matching cravat. A cravat pin studded with a large diamond winked at his throat, and his hair seemed carelessly styled, yet curled at his nape and on his forehead perfectly.

The rakehell! How dare he crash her mother’s ball?

The twitter of excitement that went through the throng echoed in Maryann’s veins, and she scowled. Mama would curse his name tomorrow, but the scandal sheets would celebrate his wicked daring, the debutantes would excitedly trade stories about how close their gowns had brushed against the lord the scandal sheets referred to as “the daring and the wicked.” And perhaps a few married ladies and widows would share among themselves some delightful and naughty things they suggested having done with him.

Maryann silently snorted, thinking it all ridiculous. Yet she couldn’t help staring at him, couldn’t help the manner in how her heart ached, yet she didn’t know what she longed for. Certainly anything in regard to a notorious rake could only lead to inevitable disgrace.

Excerpted from Her Wicked Marquess, by Stacy Reid. Entangled Publishing, 2020. Reprinted with permission.

Sinful Wallflowers

Giveaway Alert

We’re giving one lucky winner their choice of one of our Sunday Spotlight books. Use the widget below to enter for one of this month’s features.

Sunday Spotlight: December 2020

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Stacy Reid

USA Today Bestselling author Stacy Reid writes sensual Historical and Paranormal Romances and is the published author of over twenty books. Her debut novella The Duke’s Shotgun Wedding was a 2015 HOLT Award of Merit recipient in the Romance Novella category, and her bestselling Wedded by Scandal series is recommended as Top picks at Night Owl Reviews, Fresh Fiction Reviews, and The Romance Reviews.

Stacy lives a lot in the worlds she creates and actively speaks to her characters (aloud). She has a warrior way “Never give up on dreams!” When she’s not writing, Stacy spends a copious amount of time binge-watching series like The Walking Dead, Altered Carbon, Rise of the Phoenixes, Ten Miles of Peach Blosson, and playing video games with her love. She also has a weakness for ice cream and will have it as her main course.

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Sunday Spotlight: Dream Chaser by Kristen Ashley

Posted December 20, 2020 by Casee in Features, Giveaways | 2 Comments

Sunday Spotlight is a feature we began in 2016. This year we’re spotlighting our favorite books, old and new. We’ll be raving about the books we love and being total fangirls. You’ve been warned. 🙂

Sunday Spotlight: Dream Chaser by Kristen AshleyDream Chaser by Kristen Ashley
Series: Dream Team #2
Also in this series: Quiet Man, Dream Maker, Dream Chaser
Publisher: Forever
Publication Date: December 15, 2020
Point-of-View: Alternating First & Third
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Pages: 480
Add It: Goodreads
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | The Ripped Bodice | Google Play Books
Series Rating: four-stars

In this steamy, addictive contemporary romance spinning off the New York Times bestselling Dream Man and Rock Chick series, Ryn Jansen must put her trust in the one man she wants -- and the one man she can't let herself have.
Ryn Jansen has no interest in taking a risk on Boone Sadler. Thanks to a long list of men who've done nothing but let her down, Ryn vows to stay far away from the caring, protective commando. And when Boone confronts Ryn with evidence that her loved ones are conning her, Ryn is less than thrilled -- with her family and Boone. But even as Boone proves he's the kind of guy to meet her every need, she doesn't trust him to stay when life gets hard . . .
Boone Sadler's never been one to back down from a challenge. He's determined to show the funny, sexy Ryn that the irresistible connection between them is worth exploring. But caring for Ryn's heart and body becomes a matter of life and death when Ryn's beloved niece and nephew are put in danger and dirty cops begin gunning for Ryn. Soon Boone realizes their romance is in danger of more than heartbreak -- and to have any future together, they'll have to put their trust in each other.


“Choice taste in music, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Wh-what?” I forced out.

“ ‘You’ve Got the Love.’ Never gave any time to considering what song would cover my ice cream-cones-in-the-park montage. But that one’s spot on.”

Was he still inside me after our first time and . . .Teasing me?

“Do you ice skate?” I asked.

“Pennsylvania is no Minnesota, but we were no slouches in the hockey stakes.”


“Got my ass kicked a lot when I was a scrawny fucker.

So when I filled out and got back on the ice, felt damn good knocking those guys on their asses.”

I smiled up at him.

He smiled back.

Then I noted, “I think we did great with this going-slow thing. What is it? We waited a whole day and a half before going at it? We rock.”

He chuckled at that, it was ridiculously awesome to see it at the same time feel it, but it faded, and he let my wrists go so he could catch my face in both his hands.

“Don’t let me fuck this up,” he whispered, for some reason, his eyes directed to my mouth.

“Don’t let me fuck it up,” I whispered back.

His gaze rose to mine.


Dream Team

Giveaway Alert

We’re giving one lucky winner their choice of one of our Sunday Spotlight books. Use the widget below to enter for one of this month’s features.
Sunday Spotlight: December 2020

Are you as excited for this release as we are? Let us know how excited you are and what other books you’re looking forward to this year!

About Kristen Ashley

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over sixty romance novels including the Rock Chick, Colorado Mountain, Dream Man, Chaos, Unfinished Hero, The ’Burg, Magdalene, Fantasyland, The Three, Ghost and Reincarnation, Moonlight and Motor Oil and Honey series along with several standalone novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold over three million books.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana, was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and now she resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She currently writes full-time.

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