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For Erik Anderson, the Copenhagen line is his curse. He takes the train every night en route to collect souls. Like any lovelorn fool, he bargained his own long ago, and now pays the price—a lifetime of loneliness as a grim reaper. Stay distant—that’s been his mantra and what keeps him sane.
Until Mina Castner drops into his life like a whirlwind, one spilled drink leading to staying up until dawn with the woman. He believed one night couldn’t hurt, but he sorely underestimated her determination. Every encounter between them is a reprieve from the guilt of reaping souls every night, but it can’t last. Even if she sparks long buried feelings, and even if her sheer presence intoxicates him, he can’t let this continue. For humans, his touch is poison, and if he slips up, it could cost her life.
The whole date thing had been a bad idea.
She rounded a corner, stepping onto the street where the club was located. The Hive stood out even from a couple of blocks away. Its glass-and-steel exterior was slick, and lights flashed on different floors, granting glimpses of the chaos inside. Like other top-notch places, this one didn’t advertise—no sign out front since the building was imposing enough. A strain of music filtered from it, but the noise was muted—she’d bet the inside was the opposite.
She wrinkled her nose as she got closer. Great. A line. My perfect Saturday night—waiting in a line to get into a loud room with blinding lights, blaring music, and sweaty guys. No thanks.
One glance at the people waiting to get inside and she wanted to turn around. Caked on makeup, glittery dresses, and overly gelled hair dominated the crowd, all part of a scene in which she didn’t fit. A slight breeze carried the cloud of perfume teeming around the line her way. She fought not to gag.
Strands of her auburn-dyed hair kept slipping from her bun and trailing along her shoulders. Why did I even bother doing my hair? Once I get inside, the sheer heat from the place will frizz it out. Mina sighed, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. This is why I don’t date.
Up ahead, the bouncers were either admitting people or turning them away at the door. She joined the end of the line, checking her phone while she waited. He was already inside. Joy. Too late to suggest a detour to a coffee shop instead.
A man tall enough to stand out approached the entrance. With hoops in his eyebrows, ears, and, chances were, elsewhere, too, he didn’t mesh with the rest of the crowd. Nor was he wearing a polo or suit, the type of club attire the rest of these guys wore. Instead, his sleeveless, fitted hoodie made an impression of its own as did his tailored black pants, which were accented by his leather stompers. Even in a sack, the man would’ve looked good. When the guy opened the club door, the bouncers didn’t even give him a second glance. Seems they know their regulars.
She hoped her date stacked up. The line moved forward a couple of paces, and she crossed her arms over her chest. This was going to be a long night.
Check out the latest Beyond Fairytales from Nancy Fraser! Looks amazing!
Decorated war hero Reece Michaels agrees to go undercover in order to bring down the Irish Mob. In return, the civilian life he’s coveted for the past six years will be returned to him.
Hired by mob boss Sean O’Malley to protect his youngest son, Reece soon discovers the young man needs more protection from his own family than its enemies.
What Reece doesn’t count on is his instant attraction to the police chief’s beautiful and willing daughter. Abby Mackenzie is the younger sister of a woman with whom Reece once had a torrid affair. He’s determined to not give in to Abby’s come-hither ways. After all, one Mackenzie woman was more than enough.
Reece sat at the end of the long, mahogany bar nursing two fingers of Scotch.
"The boss is finishing up with some family business,” the bartender told him.
“Thanks, Eddie. I’m in no hurry.” He tossed back another mouthful of the hot, amber liquid and turned on the wooden stool to survey the room. Besides Eddie, the middle-aged bartender, three other ‘associates’ of O’Malley’s camped out in different corners of the half-empty bar. Obviously, O’Malley’s wealth was not dependent on his drinking clientele.
The door to the back office opened and a young woman stepped over the threshold. She looked vaguely familiar. As discreetly as he could manage, given the lack of a crowd, he studied her face. She smiled at him and then walked slowly in his direction. The gentle sway of her slim hips drew his attention like a magnet.
“Reece Michaels?” Her voice, a husky mix of warm honey and expensive whiskey, literally melted over his name. “Is it really you?”
She laughed softly and tossed her head, her auburn curls swishing from side to side, dusting her silk-clad shoulders. When she met his gaze, her amber eyes widened. “Abby. Abby Mackenzie. You know my sister Lily and, as an unwelcome result, my dad.”
The breath he’d held came out on a whoosh. “My, my, haven’t you grown up? And quite nicely, I might add.”
“And you look like crap.”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest, but he tamped it down. “Thanks, I think.”
She made a show of waving her hand in a circle in front of his face. “What’s with the scraggly beard and God-awful slicked-back hair? If I remember correctly, and I’m sure I do, you used to be good-looking, in a clean-cut sort of way.”
“And you used to have freckles and braces. We all change.”
He braced himself for another verbal attack on his appearance. Yet, she stopped short when the door to O’Malley’s office opened and both Jason and his younger brother, Billy, stepped back into the bar.
Billy was exactly as Reece remembered him. Shorter and slighter of build than his older brother, he looked as if a good gust of wind would knock him down. His hair, blond rather than the O’Malley red, framed an unsmiling, pensive face.
With a rough nudge, Jason shoved Billy until he stood beside the bar where Reece and Abby were waiting.
“This is Reece Michaels. He’s the new guy Pops was telling you about,” Jason said, nodding in Reece’s direction. “Reece, you remember my baby brother, Billy, don’t you? Pops wants you to be his new bodyguard.”
Billy O’Malley’s look of anger at being called a ‘baby’ was probably no more comical than the look of surprise on his own face. Bodyguard to a spoiled rich kid was not what he’d had in mind when he’d asked O’Malley for a job.
Fun Book Fact:
Like The Devil’s Sooty Brother, the Grimm fairy tale on which the book is based, Do You Want Me was written entirely in the hero’s point of view … even the absolutely decadent love scenes!
Like most authors, Nancy began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.
Published in multiple genres, Nancy currently writes for four publishers. She has published twenty-two books in both full-length and novella format. Nancy is currently working on a Valentine’s story for 2016, her next Rock and Roll novella, the third McCade Legacy book and a second fairy tale for Decadent Publishing.
When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five beautiful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.
Who doesn’t love a good fairytale? Isn’t that why we read romance? Heck yeah! Well, Sorcha Mowbray has a hot new twisted fairytale from Decadent Publishing’s Beyond Fairytales line for you.
Once upon a time…
Bel was a happy girl with loving parents. Now she lives for revenge. At her father's urging a plan is set in motion which quickly spins out of control. Expecting to be used and abused by The Beasts MC, who are known for their orgiastic ways, she is prepared to accept her fate in order to execute her mission.
The time has come to even the score with the men responsible for her mother's death.
Nate and Liam, leaders of The Beasts, have their hands full ensuring the survival of their people as they sell Beast Brew to survive in a city crumbling around them. When a Rose MC member is plucked from their care the laws of Epsilon demand the perpetrator forfeit his life. But then the leader of The Devil's Disciples' daughter offers herself in exchange for his life, and they can't refuse the beauty's plea.
Once she's pressed between them they know they're keeping her for their own, but first they must figure out why she's there.
Here’s a sneak peek at Sorcha’s awesome new cover. And since she’s so excited about it, she’s offering a giveaway. Scroll down below to see how you can enter to win. Also, be sure to check back tomorrow for the next peek at her cover, along with more chances to win, and again on Thursday for the final reveal!
If you want to learn more about the new World Sorcha has built be sure to check out http://talesfromepsilon.sorchamowbray.com/
One winner will receive a $10 Gift Card to an ebook store of their choice
Two winners will receive copies of the One Night With A Cowboy series in the ebook format of their choice
The One Night With A Cowboy series is a set of short stories linked by cowboys and Soul Mates Dating Service, a dating service with an uncanny ability to match up soul mates. These sizzling little treats are perfect for a quick hot read. http://sorchamowbray.com/one-night-with-a-cowboy-series/
Five winners will receive a copy of Due Diligence in the ebook format of their choice
Lucas Bowerton needs to confirm the CFO of Darrington, Inc lives up to her resume. But, he never expected to find a sexy submissive he’d break all the rules to posses.
Adriana Leighton is busy saving the company she loves from being sold. But, when one of the men responsible reawakens needs she’d tucked away she has more to save than just her job.
Together they will discover if due diligence will pay off.
So excited to be hosting Jessica E. Subject. She's a lovely lady and talented author! Be sure to see her amazing giveaway at the bottom of the post!
An Alien to Love
A collection of 1Night Stand stories
By Jessica E. Subject
Five HOT 1Night Stand stories by Jessica E. Subject about sexy heroes from other planets.
What do a librarian, a nurse, a director’s assistant, a housekeeper, and an orphan have in common? They all end up spending an evening with a gorgeous stranger. But, will one night lead to more, or will the women end up running away when they learn their sexy suitor comes from another planet? Find out in these five sensual 1Night Stand stories by sci-fi romance author, Jessica E. Subject.
Contains: Celestial Seduction, Satin Sheets in Space, Another Night, Another Planet, His Alien Virgin, and Her Alien Hero
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Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Date Published: July 1, 2015
Genre(s): Science Fiction Romance, Futuristic Romance, Alien Romance
Heat Rating: 3 to 4 flames - frequent love scenes that are explicit and described using graphic and direct language
Word Count: 55,000 words
Page Count: approx.141 pages
From Another Night, Another Planet:
“Okay, what do you do? How’d you end up on Elatia?”
“A little of this and that. Transporting small packages between planets, mostly.” Cargo no one else wanted to carry. He grasped her hips, sliding her toward him, her robe slipping up her thighs. She grasped his shoulders and stared at him, eyes wide. But no objection came from her lips, so he continued. “As for why I’m here, well, I came to meet you. Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
Her cheeks flushed, and he could think of nothing but having his way with her. He leaned forward, tasting her sweet lips. She didn’t pull away, but wrapped her arms around him. Lining his tongue along the edge of her mouth, he deepened the kiss. He absorbed her essence into every cell. He couldn’t get enough. Reaching between their bodies, he undid the tie around his waist. Then hers. Delirious, he pulled the robes from between them until skin pressed against skin. Exactly as they were meant to be. Nibbling his way down her neck, he took pleasure in her soft whimpers. She leaned back, opening herself to him. For a moment, he could do nothing but stare at her luscious body, unable to believe she was there with him again.
He ran his tongue across her stomach, from her navel, all the way up to one of her rosy peaks, the taste of tropical fruits and her femininity overwhelming his senses. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, drawing his teeth over her tender skin. She cried out, but held him there rather than pushing him away. As he switched to savor her other breast, she began to rock over him. His semi-hard-on turned into a rock, seeking out a warm pussy. The head of his penis slid easily along her wet lips, but he refused to take the plunge. Way too soon.
Rising to his feet, he laid Ava across the lounger. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He rushed over to the gourmet spread of food before his lust took over and he ruined the evening. Collecting a selection of pastries filled with creams and small chunks of juicy fruit, he took a deep breath, trying to stifle his aching cock. Anxious to satisfy another hunger, he carried the plate over to Ava.
He kneeled in front of her. A smile radiated across her face. “Thank you. I didn’t expect the eletin to affect me so much. It’s like the alcohol on Earth. I want you, don’t get me wrong, but….”
Setting a chunk of fruit between his teeth, he captured her lips again. Their tongues darted around the juicy flesh until he swallowed it down. He licked a trail of sweet nectar down her neck. Gods, he’d missed her.
Pinching one of the flaky pastries, he wiped its cream onto her pert, rosy nipples. Hunger and lust pulsed through him, but under it all, something more. More than want. He needed her. Always had. He refused to walk away from her again. Tonight was about more than pleasure, a one-night stand. Somehow, he had to convince her to never return to Earth, to stay with him. An impossible task. But he had to try.
“If you’ve never thought of the stars as steamy, this [story] with have you rethinking the entire sci-fi genre.”
~ The Indie Elite
Satin Sheets in Space:
“…shakes your world up in unimaginable ways and Jessica Subject is showing that she can both rock her readers’ worlds and give them the happily ever after everyone is secretly longing for.”
~ Tracy Riva Reviews
Another Night, Another Planet:
“…a fantastic representation of the [1Night Stand] series. Hot sex along with some interesting twists kept my interest from the first page.”
~ a TOP PICK at Night Owl Reviews
His Alien Virgin:
“It’s no secret that I am a huge Jessica E. Subject fan. She is a master of creating complex characters, solid plots, and incredible emotions in a short a amount of time… This fast paced sexy little story is another great addition to the 1 Night Stand Series.”
~ Wicked Readings by Tawania
Her Alien Hero:
“This story is hot, funny, & out of this world. It’s a quick dose of romance in a way that makes you believe your wildest dreams are possible.”
~ Pure Jonel
Jessica E. Subject is the author of contemporary and science fiction romance, ranging from sweet to erotic. In her stories, you could meet clones, or a sexy alien or two. You may even be transported to another planet for a romantic rendezvous.
When Jessica isn't reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to get out and walk with her giant, hairy dog her family adopted from the local animal shelter.
Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at jessicasubject.com and on twitter @jsubject.
Website/Blog | Newsletter | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon | Authorgraph
To celebrate the release of AN ALIEN TO LOVE, and four years published, Jessica E. Subject is hosting a contest for a $25 e-gift certificate from Amazon.com or All Romance eBooks. Enter using the Rafflecopter widget placed below, or follow the link.
Please Note: Contest is international. No substitutions can be made. Must be 18 or over to enter. Void where prohibited by law. Good luck!
Check out the latest Beyond Fairytales. It's already a hot seller!
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Sleeping Beauty in a post-apocalyptic land…
In a world gone mad, where little remains but a vast wasteland of sand, the leader of a troop of roving warriors welcomes a brave young woman into his midst.
Much as he burns for her, Major Clay Worthington swears to keep his distance from the mysterious woman, so sensitive even the stinging rain can wound her.
Rosina Brierly is besotted with the formidable soldier and will gladly trade her life for one torrid night of blissful passion in his arms.
But when sleep overcomes them, will true love prevail?
Does the major ever feel lust? Does he covet a woman’s touch? He never gave any sign he did. Too aloof and austere, too remote from the simple emotions of mere mortal men.
He shook her again. “Wake up, princess. The rain will come soon.”
The men looked forward to the rain. They hated the relentless sun blasting down upon them, as if they thought it would incinerate what was left of the earth beneath their boots, baking the soft sand into badlands as hard as concrete. They’d strip off their T-shirts and boots, their combat fatigues, and sometimes even their camouflage boxer shorts, and dance and play, naked or nearly so, in the slanting gray soup, laughing, tossing round balls or throwing saucer-shaped plastic discs to each other.
For her, the showers had the opposite effect. The stinging rain sliced into her sensitive skin like acid, raising blisters and sores, sometimes bloodying her.
She did not know why the major called her princess. Perhaps he didn’t know either. Whatever royalty once walked the earth had long gone, fled underground or died in battle or simply disappeared. The war engulfed every human on the planet, every inch of land, and had waged so long she doubted anyone remembered anymore. Well, maybe Nicodemus. At least he sometimes hinted he did in the stories he told. And she had seen him whisper into the major’s ear, unknown things that made the major pale beneath his weathered tan.
Major Worthington did not treat her like a princess, though, except when she slumbered, when he knelt before her in her fantasy world, his head bowed, his fist over his heart, laying his sword at her feet and claiming the role of knight. Her hero. Her champion. When she awoke, he remained one of the elite warrior breed roaming the planet, bristling with weapons like the soldiers he led. He treated her as the translator she was to him, sometimes barking orders to her as if she were one of his men, only occasionally seeking her counsel.
She came fully awake as he jerked her up from the ground and yanked her toward him. The glare of the setting sun broadsided her, hurting her eyes. Why was he so insistent about the impending rain? No clouds yet darkened the sky, although the hour sped toward evening dusk now. But no hint of shadow yet blotted the horizon.
“I can smell it,” he muttered.
Be sure to click here to visit our overall tour for some great prizes, including a $15 Amazon GC from me! That Tour ends May 31st.
Gold Book of Grown-Up Fairytales
Welcome to the VS MORGAN site. If you are here to visit the Beyond Fairytales blog hop, click here to hop directly to that post.
Title: Black Balled
Author: Andrea Smith and Eva LeNoir
Release: May 11, 2015
Genre: M/M Romance
Two dominant males, two worthy adversaries, in a business that takes no prisoners, will soon learn that fate refuses to be ignored . . .
My name is Troy Babilonia, but I'm best known as Babu, a renowned literary critic with my own online column. I'm followed by thousands! I'm a living god in the literary world. I have no filter, and for that, my flock of humble followers are forever grateful. If it weren't for me, they wouldn't know what to read. I have zero tolerance for the weak-minded attention seekers, nor do I have respect for the self-proclaimed geniuses of the Indie world. My advice to all Indie authors is to never break the cardinal rule in this cut-throat business. Ever.
My name is L. Blackburn and I'm an Indie author. My extraordinary genius was loved and worshiped throughout the literary world, until one egocentric critic tried to obliterate my career. It seems I broke some fucking "cardinal rule," and now I'm paying the price for it. But I don't plan on going down without a fight.
After all, when a predator goes after your cub, it's time to go for the throat--and maybe more...much more.
Barnes & Noble
Behind me I hear Larson, “Troy…hey, it’s…”
“Don’t!” I yell, my eyes narrowing as I stalk my prey, my eyes flickering over Floyd’s hot pink shirt. I feel insulted and, for a moment, I debate whether it’s the dandy that should be on the receiving end of my fist or Larson. I quickly decide to strike the nearest prey first. My fist shoots out and cuffs him good with an uppercut to the chin, sending him sprawling backwards, where he unceremoniously lands on one of Larson’s black glass end tables, knocking the lamp to the floor. The sound of glass shattering echoes throughout the room, and I’m not done yet. I move towards him and, realizing he’s still in a daze, I take the opportunity to snatch him up with both hands fisting the collar of his shirt, and shove him against Larson.
“Is he what you want, Larson, huh? You want to fuck the flamer here? Because I can clear out right now so that you and Pink Floyd can take up where you left off before I so rudely interrupted your cozy soiree.”
Larson chuckles and I’m not fucking amused.
As I focus my gaze on Larson, I don’t catch the quick movement of Floyd as he lunges at me with a growl. “My name is Lloyd,” he hisses, “And I believe I made my position quite clear the last time we spoke. You’re not good enough for my Larson.”
And that’s when I deck him again. Hard. My fist meets his perfectly straight nose, and the sound of crunching cartilage resounds just before his shriek of pain.
“Sir!” he calls out, stumbling backwards, immediately tilting his head upward and placing a palm over his bloodied nose so as not to allow anything to stain his expensive pink shirt. “Sir,” he repeats, “Are you going to permit this?”
Oh. Sir it is, huh? What kind of fucking weirdness was Blackburn into with this dudette? I turn to acknowledge Larson, who is standing there, muscular arms crossed and his sexy drawstring pajama bottoms hanging low on his narrow hips. He’s shaking his head, and I don’t miss the sexy grin.
My. Dick. Is. Hard.
His package is evident and his cock has made a bit of a tent beneath those sweats. Not sure if that’s for me or if the sight of Pink Floyd’s blood is getting him hard.
“Well, sir,” I say, trying to mimic Lloyd’s voice and dripping sarcasm along the way. “Speak up. Who’s it gonna be, huh? Me or your Fifty Shades of Whack over there?”
I watch, a bit confused, as Larson casually strolls over to the kitchen counter and takes hold of his beer before making himself comfortable on the bar stool. The room is silent but for the wheezing coming from the damsel in distress over there. I’m guessing he’s uncomfortably numb in the entire nose region.
“Let’s see,” my soon-to-be-ex-lover begins as he adjusts the rapidly growing erection he is sporting, “Could you start over because the view is much better from here?” Then he takes a sip of his beer and waves his hand as though giving us permission to continue.
Andrea Author Bio:
Andrea Smith is a USA Today Best-Selling Author.
An Ohio native, currently residing in southern Ohio. The Past Tense Future Perfect trilogy is Ms. Smith's first self-published work. Having previously been employed as an executive for a global corporation, Ms. Smith decided to leave the corporate world and pursue her life-long dream of writing fiction.
Ms. Smith's second series, The 'G-Man Series' consists of four novels and a novella. Her 'Limbo Series' is her first venture into a blend of romantic/suspense, mystery with steamy scenes and a paranormal edge.
Eva LeNoir Author Bio:
Eva LeNoir grew up travelling with her parents to various countries in the world. Reading was her constant companion during her travels and her ability to adapt to different cultures fed her mind with endless possibilities. The characters swimming in her head are always from various horizons with a multitude of dreams and aspirations. However, all of these voices always have one thing in common: The women are strong and independent. A true believer in the female cause, Eva's wish is to portray the women in her books as the leaders. She sees them walking hand in hand with their partners and not be the sheepish followers of the male gender. But most of all, Eva LeNoir wants to offer her readers a moment of pleasure as they dive into the world of her mind's creation.
CONGRATULATATIONS TO CASSANDRA SPARKS!! You will be receiving the $15 Amazon GC! Thanks to everyone for stopping by!
VS Morgan here. Welcome to my site! I'm very excited to be participating in the Beyond Fairytales Blog Hop.
Comment on this post to be eligible for a $15 Amazon Gift Card.
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Hunter’s Mark is a retelling of the Grimm tale The Skillful Huntsman. In original story, the huntsman hero meets up with some giants who ask him to shot and kill a tiny dog that guards a palace so they can get to the princess inside. The huntsman kills the dog but decides not to leave the princess to the cruelty of the giants. He tricks and slays them instead. Yay for the princess, boo hiss for the poor dog!
As a doggie mama, there was no way I’d have my hero do this. So I decided to include the dog in my story as a very important character.
Priss was a stray my other hero Casey found and cares for. Priss returns this care with fierce love, loyalty, and protection for his owner. Raised by humans, Casey must suppress his wolf shifter nature. Priss helps Casey keep calm, allowing him to remain in control. While a tiny, white Pomeranian, Priss has a big spirit. Big enough to stand toe-to-toe with a badass wolf shifter assassin.
In addition to the excerpt below, here are a few snippets of Priss in action.
When Hunter drugs and kidnaps his owner:
Peering over his shoulder, he [Hunter] saw the dog lick its owner’s still cheek.
“Want a treat?” He offered it a piece of Slim Jim. The pooch gave him a “f**k you” look and growled. Not so friendly now.
He raised his shades and allowed his eyes to shift, his wolf staring down the puff ball. It quivered but didn’t yield. He growled long and low, and the dog barked at him before flashing tiny white teeth. Ballsy little thing. His wolf decided to take a different tack and whined. The pooch moved and let him search the smaller man’s clothing.
And when his owner has a bad dream:
The young shifter mumbled and thrashed around on the bed. Priss pawed at him and whined, but Little Wolf didn’t wake up. Priss gave him [Hunter] a “fix this, motherf****r” look. Damn, for a prissy little thing, the dog was hardcore.
Artist Casey Smith lives a quiet life, under the radar of his enemies, until one fateful night he loses control and the astonishing image of a wolf racing down a suburban street splashes all over social media.
Hunter’s bullet never misses its target. The assassin seeks out and kills his prey with a clear conscience by following two simple rules: 1) Don’t kill innocents 2) Don’t kill shifters.
Realizing his latest assignment violates those rules, the hunter activates Princess Protocol and the assassin becomes the protector. Red hot attraction flares between the hit man and his former target. Can Hunter resist the sweet shifter in his care?
He stepped closer to Casey’s stall but stumbled over something small and furry. The toe of one Birkenstock caught on a clump of grass as he attempted not to trample the little beast, and he ass-planted with said beast jumping onto his chest to give him a broad doggie smile.
His buddy laughed piss-your-pants-hard in his ear. F**k a duck.
The target he’d worked so hard to observe remotely sank to the ground between his sprawled-out legs, peeling the tiny hairball off his chest and setting it on the ground.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
Big blue eyes fringed with long, pale lashes scanned his body while strong yet gentle hands moved over his ankles and legs, searching for an injury. Oh, a toucher. His wolf basked in the tactile attention. His breath hitched as those hands glided past his knees and skimmed his thighs.
Damn, he needed to get laid after this assignment.
“Oh, my, what a li’l sweetie. Look at those freckles! I wonder if he’s got them everywhere. I’d like to lick them,” Rex crowed in his ear.
The other man chortled. “Possessive, much?”
He inhaled deeply, only to be slammed with the force of a Mack truck. Strawberries on a warm summer’s day and fresh-cut grass—shit, his target smelled delicious. He took another breath, and his brain reeled. He’s a wolf shifter, too? F**k.
Casey’s brows furrowed. “Where are you hurt?”
He forced a smile. “I’m fine. No worries.”
Casey returned the smile, his wide and high beam combined with sparkling eyes. Hunter stared as warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. He had no ammo against such a happy, open expression. The guy freaking glowed.
This is no joke.
Every 65 minutes, a military veteran commits suicide.
I'm going to be honest here. Finding Mercy took a lot out of me when I wrote it. I had so much to say and there was no other way I could think to show you what I felt. Finding Mercy is not a warm and fuzzy romance. It is a struggle for one man to learn to love again, himself, and someone else. It is a book about hope, when all seems hopeless. It is a book about choosing to step out of the dark, no matter how impossible it seems.
Combat medics have a dangerous job, and part of that job is dragging wounded off hot battlefields. They have hearts for healing and helping, and because of this, cannot help collecting a few scars of their own, both physically and mentally.
If you haven't read Finding Mercy, I’ll warn you, it probably has one of the most grisly battle scenes I've written. The hero is damaged—searching for peace and a way to start over. He is at a crossroads in his life that many vets face every day. He's in pain and a very dark place. He has a weakness for the bottle, desperate to drown memories he can't forget. For some readers, I've been told, the scenes are hard to stomach. What the hero goes through is too painful to read. I am aware I was pretty brutal to my hero, but I needed to paint a realistic portrait of the face of PTSD in our active duty military and veterans. This story has been called everything from graphically violent to an anti-romance.
So be it. It got your attention.
We cannot erase PTSD by pretending it doesn't exist. But we can move forward by supporting our military and vets, as they face those crossroads. Here’s a link to some facts about veterans and active duty military featured on PBS, Public Broadcasting System: http://www.pbs.org/coming-back-with-wes-moore/about/facts/
I’d like you to join me in raising some money for a great cause. I’ve asked my publisher to track all sales for this book for the month of April, May and June 2015. I’m not asking for reviews or a bump in the ratings. You don’t even have to like this book, but I hope you do. What I am asking, is that you buy this book April 1st- June 30th 2015, and share the link. It costs $2.99, the price of a cup of coffee. Not a huge chunk of change. We spend more than that on a salad or burger at any given time.
Starting April 1st and running through June 30th, I will donate my total royalties from the sale of Finding Mercy, an erotic military romance, to a charity that helps military and veterans who suffer from PTSD. I have to be non-specific which charity, because of federal regulations. It’s that simple. This is about something I strongly believe in. You see, I’m a vet. My husband is a vet. His grandfather served in the Navy in WWII, my father in the Air Force during Vietnam. My mother-in-law is a Marine, and both of my sons are active duty. My oldest is currently on his third deployment. My youngest, a Combat Medic, is preparing for his first.
I’ve seen the face of PTSD. It belongs to our sons and daughters, wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, grandmothers and grandfathers. It is our neighbors, friends and co-workers. It doesn’t discriminate, and it doesn’t just go away. Wounded vets need help.
Help me, help them.
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Thank you for your help,
D. L. Jackson