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Showing posts with label Erin Quinn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erin Quinn. Show all posts

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Bad Boys of the Night

Bad Boys of the Night Boxed Set Blog Barrage

Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances Boxed Set is now available worldwide for a special introductory price of only $0.99!
This ebook boxed set features sizzling paranormal romances by eight New York Times and USA Today best-selling romance authors. Fulfil your darkest fantasies with alpha-male bad boys of the night in these stories about vampires, shifters, fallen angels, werewolves, demons, psychic warriors and ghosts.
Here’s more about this fantastic eight book boxed set, including an excerpt from one of the stories.
Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/bad-boys-of-the-night/
Bad Boys of the Night Boxed Set
Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances By Jennifer Ashley, Erin Kellison, Laurie London, Colleen Gleason, Felicity Heaton, Bonnie Vanak, Caris Roane and Erin Quinn
Featuring…
Bad Wolf (Shifters Unbound) by Jennifer Ashley
Wolf Shifter Broderick is stuck looking after his three younger brothers and a Collar-less Shifter who is driving him crazy, but he’s putting up with them for Joanne, the human woman he wants to take as mate. When Broderick is captured, mistaken for a Guardian, it’s Joanne who figures out that hackers are after the Guardian Network, the database that holds the deep secrets of Shifters past and present.
Shadow Fall (Shadow series) by Erin Kellison
A man with all Custo’s sins isn't cut out to be an angel. One moment he's fleeing Heaven; the next, he's waking up stark naked, called by a woman who's afraid of the dark. Shadow gathers around Annabella as she performs, a magic that allows her to move between worlds. Her abilities attract a primeval wolf, and it stalks her relentlessly. Custo stops at nothing to keep her safe, and though danger proves seductive, they fight for redemption and love.
Warrior’s Heart (Iron Portal) by Laurie London
Librarian by day, Zara Kane is a thief by night, stealing artifacts that belong to her homeland. When she learns a man she once loved has been wrongly imprisoned, she uses her para-abilities to orchestrate a daring escape. Vince Crawford isn’t afraid of anything, but when the woman he’s never stopped loving and the son he never knew he had are threatened by a ruthless enemy, he will stop at nothing to keep them safe… even if it costs him his life.
The Vampire Voss by Colleen Gleason
In 19th Century London, vampires live alongside the uppercrust members of Society... Even after centuries of lust, hedonism, and women, Voss, rarely finds himself bored. He is a rogue of the first order who loves nothing more than a warm woman, excellent vintage, and even a puzzling challenge to keep his mind active. But when one of his seemingly harmless manipulations sets him on the path to seduce the beautiful Miss Angelica Woodmore, things become a little less simple…a lot more passionate…and definitely more complicated.
Hunger (Vampires Realm Series) by Felicity Heaton
A vampire assassin hardened by centuries of service, Tor is a man of discipline and loyalty, never straying from his mission, and has purged all his weaknesses, including his emotions. But the moment he meets the broken, fiery female he is to escort to Oslo, something dangerous awakens in him, something possessive and powerful, and when he is pulled into a deadly game of cat and mouse with the man who betrayed her, Tor discovers he will do anything to protect the woman slowly claiming his heart and give her the vengeance she desires—even break all the rules.
The Mating Challenge (Werewolves of Montana) by Bonnie Vanak
Alpha werewolf and ranch owner Aiden Mitchell desires the curvy, vivacious Nikita Blakemore, alpha female of the Blakemore pack. He will have her as his mate and no other. To force her hand, Aiden maneuvers her into hosting a Mating Challenge, the ultimate warrior competition for werewolves, where males fight for the right to mate and breed with a female alpha. Fiercely protective of his future mate, Aiden will do anything to make her his own, even fight to the death...
Dark Flame (Flame Series) by Caris Roane
Committed to the rule of law, vampire Border Patrol Officer Robert Brannick falls hard for a beautiful fae woman who illegally seduces him in his dreams…
Diablo Springs, by Erin Quinn
When she escaped Diablo Springs years ago, Gracie Beck swore she’d never return. But all that changes on the night of her grandmother’s death when Diablo Springs lures Gracie’s teenage daughter to its treacherous border. Gracie races to the rescue—only to find herself trapped in the undercurrent of a hundred year old curse and the menacing spirits that still terrorize the town. She isn’t prepared to deal with Reilly Alexander—a man from her past who she’s never forgotten—at the same time. Reilly is determined to help Gracie and prove his to love to her, but they’ve come to a dangerous place where every lurking shadow should be feared...
Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/bad-boys-of-the-night/

EXCERPT FROM THE MATING CHALLENGE BY BONNIE VANAK

The two nude alpha werewolves fought to be the most dominant, the one to mate and breed with the female leader of the Blakemore pack.
Sounds of flesh smacking hard flesh echoed through the ballroom of the Blakemore Ranch as Richard Armador and Aiden Mitchell battled on the elegant parquet floor. Overhead two lead crystal chandeliers spilled golden light upon the sparring males.
As dictated by law, the men had removed their clothing to fight naked, to show they had no concealed weapons. The female alpha had the right to see the merchandise, so to speak. See exactly how much power and strength she’d be taking into her bed.
Perched on a gilded throne, Nia Blakemore watched the men fight. In this arena of blood and violence, hardened Lupine alpha warriors battled to lay claim to the female alpha’s lands, her pack, and her body. She felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap with tension.
Alpha males from eight packs had been formally invited. Now the strongest two males remained. Of course one was Aiden. The fiend had been chasing her for years, warning her he’d eventually catch her and make her his.
He’d bought the mortgage on her ranch to force her into declaring this challenge. Bastard. If she hadn’t hosted the challenge, he could have foreclosed on her property.
And yet, as arrogant as Mitchell was, he still turned her on. Especially now.
Nia’s heart raced as the two men fought. She was their prize, and the males fought in the most primitive of ancient Lupine rites. Then the guilt set in. Neither realized her big secret.
They thought she was Nikita, the rightful alpha of the Blakemore pack. The males who wanted her didn’t know she was Nia, the younger twin, the one who’d assumed her sister’s identity from infancy.
Her admiring gaze swept over Aiden as the alphas drew close to the throne and Aiden punched his rival. Sweat dampened his thick black hair, slicked his hard body and droplets clung to the dark hairs of his chest. His skin was golden and tanned, gleaming beneath the light of the twin crystal chandeliers. As fine as smooth, chiseled marble, his powerful body flexed as he danced around his opponent. The taut globes of his ass came into view as he spun around, using his long legs to kick Richard and throw him off balance.
The males were driven by the instinctive need to mate and breed. It was basic biology, the dominating male werewolf’s drive to spread his seed and sire offspring to rule after him. In this rugged region of Montana, male werewolves outnumbered females. The Blakemore pack with its abundance of unmated and fertile females was a prize for these two virile males to claim.
But first, she had to make sure the boys played by the rules.
Nia’s sharpened gaze swept the assembled werewolves. A scowling Lupine in a green silk shirt leaned against a faded tapestry. Her eyes narrowed. Definitely hiding something behind his back.
Nia removed the honed dagger hanging from the diamond-studded belt on her white velvet robes. The fight took the males closer to the crowd hovering by the west wall. Aiden punched Richard hard, sending the alpha male crashing down. As the leader of the Mitchell pack leaned over his opponent, Silk Shirt detached from the wall and raised his hand.
Light caressed the gleaming steel blade he held over Aiden.
She stood and flung her dagger. It sailed through the air and sank deep into Silk Shirt’s wrist, pinning him to the wall. He screamed and dropped the switchblade.
She’d taught herself that move years ago, perfecting it to protect the pack females from lusty males.
Richard stood, wiping blood streaming into his eyes. He growled at the offender, snapped his fingers. Two males rushed forward to obey.
“Bring him outside and guard him. He’ll be dealt with later,” he ordered. “He knew the rules. No weapons. No assistance from pack.”
Silk Shirt whimpered as Richard’s men pulled the dagger from his wrist and lifted him under the arms.
“Wait,” Aiden ordered.
He took Nia’s blade. The dagger arced, slicing the air and then the male’s throat. As the werewolf burbled his last gasp, Aiden used the dying man’s shirt to wipe the blade clean.
No mercy on those ruthless features as Aiden twirled the blade.
“Dealt with,” he said.
Inside, Nia shivered at his ruthlessness, though she agreed with the action. Werewolves battling for power in this brutal challenge searched for any display of weakness. Aiden couldn’t ignore such a blatant insult by Richard’s pack. Nia returned to the throne and smoothed out her expression to show no trace of emotion. Nothing to incite the 200 plus assembled males from both packs to disregard the rules and engage in an all-out war they couldn’t afford.
The Blakemore pack could barely defend themselves, a fact Nia had desperately hidden. They needed strong males to help protect their territory. And they were all going hungry, for the ranch had lost too much income in the past year. Even game in their forest was scarce.
The fighting males thought they would win the Blakemore alpha female as a mate, the entire Blakemore pack to call their own, and the Blakemore Ranch as a nice bonus.
They didn’t realize she wasn’t an alpha female, there were only females left in the Blakemore pack, and the ranch was stricken with disease that killed all males of shapeshifting age.
Nia drew in a trembling breath, hoping the fight would end soon. The longer all these males remained on her land, the more nervous she became. Hurry up and finish. Then, please, go home and stay safe. This place is cursed.
Roxanne Valmont, the Blakemore pack beta, retrieved the dagger as Richard’s men rushed the dead werewolf outside. Aiden nodded to Nia, touching his forehead in a gesture of respect, then resumed the battle with Richard.
Nia didn’t know how the hell they’d resolve this mess. After she and her twin were born 25 years ago, their father had insisted there was only one living girl born to the Blakemore alpha pair. Nikita had been hidden, for it was prophesied in their family that the eldest girl twin born on the seventh day of the seventh month belonged to the Silver Wizard. He would come for her after she lived 25 years, and take her to his home in Tir Na-nog, the afterworld, to become his bride. And she would die, for no mortal being survived in the afterworld.
The twins had traded places to let Nikita out once in a while, but only their aunt Mandy, close friend Roxanne and a few elder females in the pack realized they were twins.
It was an effective ruse they’d managed to pull off up until now.
Nia gripped the armrests as Aiden moved on the floor, his actions smooth and flowing as he ducked Richard’s punch. Richard was smooth arrogance, a blond charmer who came from wealth and privilege. Adding his lands to theirs would make his domain even more powerful.
Sex with him would be bland and dutiful. Safe.
Not so with dark-haired Aiden, with his wide shoulders and heavily-muscled body. Raw and untamed, he fought as if the idea of bedding her drove him to a mating frenzy. Sweat dripped down his temples as he slammed Richard against the wall.
A very female part of her appreciated the flex of powerful biceps, the thick muscles dividing his back. Not an ounce of fat on him, not on the ripped abdomen, the narrow hips or his strong limbs.
Her gaze darted down to the thick thatch of black hair at his groin. At rest, his penis was impressive. Big, like Aiden himself. The thought of taking all that male hardness into her untried body, feeling him move over her as they consummated their union…
The flush of arousal filled her as she watched the powerful werewolf fight. She’d fantasized about the male in the dark night, wondering what he’d be like as a lover.
Aiden fought for her sister’s hand, not hers. He fought to mate with the alpha of the Blakemore pack and technically, her older twin was the alpha.
I am pretending to be someone I am not. A leader, an alpha like he is. My whole life has been based upon a lie to keep Niki hidden.
But after masquerading as her twin for all these years, she wished someone could see her for herself. Love her as an individual, not as the Lupine they knew as Nikita Blakemore.
The grunts and groans of the two sparring males echoed through the ballroom. Her peripheral vision caught sight of her aunt Mandy entering the ballroom. Nia’s heart pounded hard with every click of Mandy’s boot heels across the parquet floor.
Upon reaching the throne, Mandy whispered into her ear. Nia stiffened.
“Now?” Nia asked.
Mandy nodded at the fighting men. “Now, before the fight is finished and one of them wins.”
She released a sharp breath and followed her aunt out of the ballroom, away from the crescendo of male grunts and the crack of a fist slamming into muscle. Razor sharp fear surged. She wasn’t certain how much longer she and her twin could carry on this ruse.
Things had dragged on far too long. And soon, she would have to pay the price.

Grab the boxed set for just $0.99 to read this story and seven others…
Bad Boys of the Night: Eight Sizzling Paranormal Romances is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/bad-boys-of-the-night/

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Thursday, November 26, 2015

Snowed In and Snuggled Up Holiday Novella Collection: Giveaway


Snowed In and Snuggled Up Holiday Novella Collection
Calisa Fox, Erin Quinn, Mary Leo


Publication date: October 29th 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Curl up with the Snowed In and Snuggled Up Holiday Novella Collection from New York Times bestselling author Erin Quinn, award-winning and Amazon bestselling author Calista Fox, and USA Today bestselling author Mary Leo.

Book One: A Little Bit of Sugar by Erin Quinn

Book Two: A Dash of Spice by Calisa Fox

Book Three: And Everything Nice by Mary Leo
A Little Bit of Sugar by Erin Quinn
For JT Winchester, Plymouth Rock, Colorado has always represented a cage he couldn’t wait to escape – and he jumped at the chance to do just that. Yet he’s never forgotten the girl next door who’d captured his heart as a young man.
Madison Lane may be the girl next door, but she lives her life the way she wants. Yet something is missing, and no amount of pretending it’s anything other than JT Winchester has ever worked. Now, JT is back in town for Thanksgiving and Madison is reunited with the man who once set her heart and body aflame.
They’ve both changed, but one thing has stayed the same—they can’t resist one another. Once JT and Madison are snowed in together, the magic of Plymouth Rock could change their lives.
A Dash of Spice by Calista Fox
After a lifetime of preparing to be the next NHL great, Scout is returning early to Plymouth Rock, Colorado as a hometown hero. Now an ex-athlete, Scout has broken family fences to mend, job offers to consider…and a raven-haired beauty from his past who deserves the ultimate decision from him. 
Ciara has learned how to make the best of every disastrous situation, but deep down, there are past pains she hides from everyone… except for Scout. When they’re suddenly reunited for the Thanksgiving holiday and are snowed in at Win Creek Cabin, Ciara realizes the time has come to stop running. To stop hiding. To snuggle up with the only man she’s ever loved and face her demons while he faces his—and hope they both come out unscathed. 
And Everything Nice by Mary Leo 
All Hamilton Winchester ever wanted was Gaby Venti, but Gaby Venti never wanted to be tied down to any man . . . especially a man from Plymouth Rock, Colorado, the hometown she left behind. But when she finds herself snowed in by a force of nature, she quickly learns that Hamilton Winchester isn’t just ‘any man,’ and Plymouth Rock means more to her than simply the ‘town she left behind.
ON SALE FOR $0.99 UNTIL DEC 1st!
Buy links:

Excerpt



A Dash of Spice by Calista Fox
Chapter One

“Bet’s to you, boy.”
William Woodrow Winchester—“Scout” to anyone who didn’t want to be laid out flat on his back—studied the cards in his hand. Not exactly a winning combination, but then again, his entire existence had been predicated on “not exactly a winning combination.”
More so these days.
He fingered a stack of heavy poker chips. Then flicked a few off with his thumb. Meeting the current ante of a hundred. Upping it to three.
His gaze drifted around the table as he gauged the other men’s reaction to his bold move.
One snorted. Met the raise.
One snickered. Folded his hand.
One raised an eyebrow. Hedged. Drew out the suspense with a head shake. A head nod. Another shake. Then he dropped his cards on the table with a disgruntled sigh.
Scout would have given a cocky grin, but there was a final player to consider.
Vaux Forsythe.
That old weasel went and upped the pot another two hundred bucks.
Scout chuckled. He wasn’t exactly surprised.
His gaze dipped to the five cards he held.
This was no-draw poker. Nothing wild. Nothing squirrely or girly, as his Grandpa Win would say.
A game of no guts—no glory, as Vaux would tell anyone who dared to accept a coveted invitation to plop his butt in a chair at this particular table. Where men were definitely…men.
The hand you were dealt was the hand you played. That was how they rolled in Plymouth Rock, Colorado.
Scout had learned at an early age how to read his opponents—one of the cornucopia of invaluable lessons his grandfather, the late, great Jefferson Tate Winchester, had taught him. Along with how to assess risk factors and leverage your strengths. How to bluff to high heaven and never, ever give away any signs of weakness. During a poker game, a hockey game…or in the game of life, in general.
Scout collapsed his fanned-out cards and set them face down on the green felt-covered table. Sifted a few more chips through his fingers. Gave a half-assed grin. Then casually mused, “What the fuck?”
He pushed his remaining pile of twelve-hundred and fifty into the center of the table.
Four pairs of eyes popped.
Scout said, “I’m all-in. Who wants to set sail for wild adventures on the Mayflower? And who wants to stay safe and sound in merry old England?” It was a few days before Thanksgiving, after all. His festive side was coming out.
Max Littleton—the town’s butcher—who’d been holding, instantly folded. “Long live the queen,” he grumbled.
Yeah, Scout had heard that one before.
And that left just one to stand with the cheese.
“You crazy son of a bitch,” Vaux said to Scout with a glint of admiration in his eyes.
Forsythe was an interesting codger, to be sure. One of the wealthiest men in Colorado—not a detail you could miss because he wore flashy diamond rings on all eight fingers and one thumb, since the other was missing at the knuckle. The result of what Vaux himself called a “minor disagreement” over a lady friend years ago who’d actually (mistakenly) been someone else’s lady friend.
Vaux was an easy-going sort who’d spread his thin lips wide to reveal a shiny gold crown on either side of his two front teeth. He had a shock of white hair on his head, alert ice-blue eyes, and a ticker that just kept on…ticking. He drove around the poststamp-sized town of Plymouth Rock in a restored 1930s Rolls Royce. Eccentric all the way. The very reason Scout wouldn’t mind or feel guilty about taking in a haul from him this evening.
If the cards and his mad-bluffing skills worked in his favor…
Vaux had been a good friend of Scout’s grandpa and a strong paternal presence in Scout’s life, but that never factored into the competition when he and Vaux were head-to-head at poker.
“I’ll see your bet,” the elder man announced as he matched the pot—with another stack of chips to spare, he’d been doing that well all night. “And I call.”
The drinkers and the dancers at Waylon’s Watering Hole stopped what they were doing, taking interest in the current showdown. And the fact that it was Scout in the hot seat. It’d been a few years since he’d returned to his hometown, and this was the first stop he’d made.
He’d had a different one in mind, initially. Tilda St. James’ Colonial on the outskirts of town. A house that did not belong in this elegantly rustic, mountain community. But she’d been a Boston descendant and had brought her preferred architectural housing to the tree-lined edges of Plymouth Rock. Along with a small collection of other Bostonians who’d latched onto the namesake and had established the Pilgrim Society in homage. Six ladies who now crested seventy-years old and maintained their annual tradition of reenacting the landing in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1620 and the first-ever Thanksgiving feast.
Which made Scout think of Ciara St. James.
Tilda’s granddaughter and an honorary member of the society.
Not that he needed any excuse such as Thanksgiving to think of Ciara. No, thoughts of that woman paraded through his brain on a regular basis. It’d just been three years since he’d last seen her, so maybe he was even more inclined to let wicked little fantasies of the feisty woman infiltrate his otherwise good senses.
“You playing or praying?” Vaux chided, interrupting Scout’s wayward thoughts.  “I’d like to collect my bounty and buy some of these lovely ladies a drink.” That was Vaux. Ever the flirt. Even after his past altercation.
Scout’s gaze drifted around the spellbound crowd gathered this Saturday night. Waylon’s had a curious appeal. Sure, this being Colorado, there were big-game heads mounted on the walls trimmed with river rock up to waist height. The dance floor was scuffed. The “stage” was only large enough to accommodate the three-person band that performed there several times a week. But the actual bar was one amazingly master-crafted work of polished wooden art that Waylon Canton, Jr. himself had built—or, rather, sculpted—when he’d taken over ownership two decades ago, after his father had passed. It was a long, wide bar with intricately scrolled detail, panels at the base and a shiny copper top. The wall behind was lined with mirrors, glass shelves and rich mahogany that matched the bar.
This might be a “watering hole,” but Waylon preferred a touch of class and top-notch whisky. Perhaps because his ancestors hailed from the glitzier ski town of Aspen.
Scout liked the feel of the place. A little bit old-school, similar to some of the taverns in Durango before the surge of tourism had commercialized its Main Avenue. An older crowd hung here. The poker players and the bullshitters who loved to spin yarns about the “good ole days in the wild, wild west”—and every colorful character in between. It’d been one of his grandfather’s favorite haunts, and to Scout, it’d always felt like a comfortable place where he belonged. Even before Waylon had poured him his first “official” beer when Scout had turned of legal age eight years ago.
He felt a peculiar puff of air on his nape and grinned. Perhaps Grandpa Win was with Scout in spirit this evening.
He sure as hell hoped so. Because he held jack in his hand.
Literally.
He flipped the first one over, a smoothie.
Eyed Vaux, who neither flinched, nor gave away a goddamn thing. Scout’s pulse hitched a notch. The very reason he played—for the sheer exhilaration.
He tossed over his second jack, a grower.
One corner of his mouth lifted as his gaze remained locked with his opponent’s.
Vaux didn’t appear the least bit fazed. Scout’s heart beat faster. He loved the adrenaline rush.
Vaux said, “That’s all you’ve got, boy?”
“It’s all I need,” he challenged, though even Scout knew that a pair would rarely get you far at this table. Still, he taunted, “Isn’t it?”
With a shake of his head, the older gentleman told him, “I suppose you being a bigtime hockey player and all, you find it acceptable to just throw away your hard-earned money. Taken a few too many blows to the head with a high stick?”
Scout chuckled, despite Vaux’s words unwittingly hitting a little too close to home. Though it wasn’t high-sticking that had recently ended his career. No, that came courtesy of the six-point elk his rental had plowed into outside of Edmonton, Canada.
But Scout’s private hell was precisely that. Private.
He said, “I don’t think you’ve got what it takes to beat me.”
“You always were an arrogant cuss.” Vaux flashed his gold teeth. “That’s why I like you so damn much. But I’ve got a bullet in my hand.” He flicked the ace of spades onto the table. “I’ve got a matching king to go with it.” This card he carefully laid out next to the first. “And he’s got a pretty little wife I like to call Queenie.” Another meticulous reveal—and a spade.
Scout’s stomach plummeted. Christ, his smoothie was a club and his jack with a ‘stache was a heart. And he didn’t know what the other players had been holding. Vaux’s hand was shaping up to be mightier than the royal bull that had crumpled Scout’s rented SUV even before it’d tumbled a half-dozen times down a snowy embankment. With Scout inside.
Vaux continued. “Bet you’re kicking yourself in the ass right now for pressing your luck, because I’ve got a card you needed. Not that it would have done you any better.” He tossed the jack of spades on the table.
There was a collective gasp and everyone gathered about leaned in closer, tried to look around one another, get a better view of the action. Which could turn out to be an historical moment.
“You always did have a flair for the dramatic,” Scout said with a snicker, trying to appear cool. Meanwhile, his pulse raced.
The problem with that flair was that Vaux was a man who knew how to back it up.
“Hope you’ve already bought your plane ticket back to wherever you came from, kid. Don’t think you’re gonna be able to afford much more than bus fare home after this.”
Scout bit his lower lip. Stared up at the ceiling fans with their warm, golden globes. Then swore under his breath.
The surplus store owner, Mike Thompson, who’d been the first to fold, slapped Scout on the back and said, “This is what comes from adventures on the high seas. Might hit a winter squall, or land safely. Total crapshoot. You’re obviously caught in the squall.”
Scout shot him a droll look. “There’s still land in sight, my friend.” Though even if, miracles of miracles, Vaux hadn’t drawn a royal flush, all it’d take was for him to throw down another jack—his high cards would be the kicker over Scout’s lows. But Scout wasn’t one to give up the ghost so quickly. And simply said, “Have some faith.”
Mike let out a hearty laugh. “Misguided though your optimism might be in this case, it’s damn good to see the Winchester spunk lives on in the grandsons.”
There was no need for Mike or anyone else to mention Grandpa Win’s actual son, Jeff. This crowd was more about jesting and goading than tearing one down. If you didn’t have something nice to say and all that… An adage that applied to the man who’d provided the sperm for Scout, his older brother Jefferson Tate, III—who went strictly by “JT”—and his younger bro Hamilton. That was pretty much all Scout himself had to say on the particular subject of his deadbeat dad.
To Vaux, he said, “Well, get on with it already. If you plan to clean me out, I’ll need to hit an ATM before they roll up the sidewalks and the whole damn community shuts down for the night.”
“I’d be more than happy to provide a personal loan,” Vaux offered. “I’ll even forego the compounded interest because you’re such a bigshot.”
“I don’t need a loan,” Scout informed him. “Or your charity, thank you very much.” His gaze narrowed. “You really think I’ve blown through all of my endorsement money?”
Scout wasn’t like his father, after all. No, Scout had some sense in his head and plenty of cents in his bank accounts.
“Well, the way you play poker, son,” Vaux contended, “makes me a little worried about your financial stability.”
Gut instinct kicked in. That and the fact that Scout knew Vaux well. He grinned again. The really cocky one. “You’re stalling, old man. You don’t have a pot to piss in with that hand, do you?”
Vaux smirked. “Granted, I did intend to scare you off from the get-go. Then I figured I could beat you with the ace, king-high. Since all these other turkeys ran for the hills like I had a Flintlock Musket in my hand.”
Artie Hopper, the fifth at the table and also the owner of Artie’s Groceries, glowered. “Folding when you’ve only got one ace isn’t unwise, Forsythe. Even when it is king-high.”
Vaux said, “Doesn’t mean I’m not holding another beaut to beat two jacks. But, for the record, you all ought to know by now that if I actually was holding a royal flush, I would’ve had Waylon alert the press.”
That would pretty much consist of Blake “Ace” Cranston hightailing it to the bar with his steno pad and sharpened-to-a-deadly-point No. 2 pencil poised and ready, his 1970’s Nikon single lens reflex camera strapped around his neck. Ace still used a darkroom to develop his own film and every black and white picture that went into the Plymouth Rock Cranston’s Corner weekly newsletter, no Hewlett-Packard printer or scanner involved. Hell, he waxed the back of his articles and photos and laid them out on a light table. Ran the template through a printing press.
He was a true artist.
“So Scout called it accurately,” Max declared. “You’ve got bupkis.”
That wasn’t necessarily true and everyone—most especially Scout—knew it. There was still the chance for Vaux to blow Scout’s ship out of the water with a second face card.
“Come on now, old timer,” Scout prompted. “Keeping me in suspense is just plain bad form. You’ve got squat, right?”
“Of the highest order,” Vaux chortled. And tossed out his last card. It spun midair. Scout’s breath caught.
The card hit the table.
Nine of hearts.
No royal flush.
No flush at all.
No straight.
Not even a pair.
Bupkis.
Fuck, yes!
A sharp stream of air blew through Scout’s parted lips as he stared at the card. “Son of a gun. That was damn, damn close.”
His stomach returned to its proper place. His pulse stopped echoing in his ears.
Vaux gave him a grin full of respect. “You’ve got balls, boy. I like that. You did your gramps proud. I’m not even gonna bust your chops over the loot you’re stealing from under my nose.”
“From under your nose, my ass,” Scout scoffed as he raked the chips his way. “I played that hand with Winchester style and steel resolve.”
“Precisely what I’d expect from this generation of Wins. Now, cash-in and then go collect your real prize. There’s one hell of a looker over at the jukebox who, as far as I can tell, only has eyes for you. Can’t for the life of me figure out why, though…”
Scout’s head popped up from his winnings. And his gaze instantly landed on five-foot-eight-inches of hotness the likes of which he’d never known.
A raven-haired beauty in black leather pants and boots, wearing a tight, slightly shimmery snakeskin-print sweater in sapphire and black, with a silver zipper that ended just below plumped up breasts, and a low neckline trimmed with black fur.
Her tawny irises flashed with excitement and a hint of mischief. Sending all the blood straight to his groin.
Amendment: This actually was hotness he was well-versed in.
A living, breathing fantasy.
Known as Ciara St. James.











Author Bios: 
Mary Leo:
USA Today bestselling author Mary Leo writes contemporary romance, whimsical romance, romantic suspense, and mystery. She loves to travel for research while she’s writing a book, or for that matter, even when she’s not writing a book . . . which always leads to yet another book. Go to www.maryleo.com for more information or follow Mary on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/maryleoauthour


Calisa Fox:
Calista is a former PR professional, now writing fast-paced, steamy books to set your pulse racing! Her publishing houses include St. Martin’s Press, Grand Central Publishing and Harlequin. Visit her at: www.calistafox.com, www.facebook.com/calistafox, and www.twitter.com/calistafoxbooks.


Erin Quinn:
NYT and USA Today Bestselling author Erin Quinn writes dark paranormal romance for the thinking reader and fun, rompy contemporary romance for the woman who likes to have fun. Her books have been called “riveting,” “brilliantly plotted” and “beautifully written” and have won, placed or showed in numerous awards. Go to www.erinquinnbooks.com for more information.

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Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Dark and Damaged Box Set

Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance Boxed Set is now available worldwide for a special introductory price of only $0.99!

This ebook boxed set features all-new, never-before-published hot paranormal romances by eight New York Times and USA Today best-selling romance authors. Tortured alpha-male bad boys will ignite your darkest, most secret desires in these stories about vampires, shifters, dragons, fallen angels, werewolves, demons, psychic warriors and ghosts.

Here’s more about this fantastic eight book boxed set, including an excerpt from one of the stories.

Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/dark-and-damaged/


Dark and Dangerous
GoodReads
Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance By Jennifer Ashley, Caris Roane, Erin Kellison, Felicity Heaton, Erin Quinn, Laurie London, Bonnie Vanak and Colleen Gleason

LION EYES by Jennifer Ashley
Bree has just decided to give up trying to be a Shifter groupie when a lion Shifter slams into her truck and tells her to drive. Seamus is on the run from hunters, other Shifters, and who knows who else. All Bree knows is that he’s compelling, needs her help, and most intriguing of all, wears no Collar...

BLOOD FLAME by Caris Roane
Vampire Officer Connor of the Crescent Border Patrol tries to suppress his desire for the powerful witch, Iris Meldeere. Because the woman possesses the ability to kill him with the tips of her fingers, how can he possibly fall in love with her? When a double homicide throws them together, he soon finds his deepest fantasies fulfilled as Iris succumbs to his seductions. But as they battle together to stay alive, and love begins to consume them both, will the witch be able to forgive the dark secrets of his past …

HER SINFUL ANGEL by Felicity Heaton
Cast out of Heaven and now the king of Hell, Lucifer is a powerful fallen angel warrior with a heart as cold as ice and soul as black as the bottomless pit. For millennia, he has ruled his realm with an iron fist as he plots the demise of his ancient enemies. When one of those enemies dumps an unconscious mortal female in the courtyard of his fortress and leaves her there, Lucifer finds himself entranced by the beguiling beauty and tempted beyond all reason. But is the enchanting Nina an innocent pawn in the eternal game or part of a plot against him?

TEMPTED BY FIRE by Erin Kellison
A powerful dragon shifter has waited six hundred years to avenge the loss of his family, but the beautiful mediator sent to prevent violence among the Bloodkin doesn’t want to be his key to discovering the murderer—in fact, she wants nothing to do with dragons at all...

REBEL’S DESIRE by Laurie London
A jaded Iron Guild warrior cares about nothing except battling a ruthless enemy, but when a beautiful woman literally runs into his arms, he realizes she holds the key to his success. As passion ignites, he must decide whether to sacrifice the woman he’s falling for or dare to trust his heart again.

THE RESURRECTION OF SAM SLOAN by Erin Quinn
Trapped in the body of a human, the Reaper is about to fall in love with a woman he was never meant to have… When a reaper is trapped in Maggie’s estranged husband’s body, she knows only that the man with her husband’s eyes feels like a stranger… a compelling, seductive stranger who touches her in ways her treacherous husband never could. She wants to trust him, but what about the ghost who haunts their home, implicating him in a gruesome murder…

REDEMPTION by Bonnie Vanak
A cursed alpha wolf promises to free an enslaved Mage if she mates with him so he can sire an heir, not realizing she can destroy the dark secret keeping his pack alive.

RAGING DAWN by Colleen Gleason
After the vampires Max Denton hunts brutally murder his wife, he is nearly destroyed himself and spends the next ten years living a life of violence and revenge. But when sensitive information about his young daughter falls into the hands of the vampires, Max is forced to team up with the woman whose father ultimately caused the death of his wife. Savina Eleaisa has secrets of her own, and she’s determined to do whatever it takes to clear her father’s name: even if it involves seducing the most dangerous of vampires--with or without the help of the arrogant, brooding Max Denton.

Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/dark-and-damaged/


EXCERPT FROM HER SINFUL ANGEL BY FELICITY HEATON


A pale orange glow lit the wall of black rock beneath the plateau, adding a dash of colour.
Lucifer despised that band of gold.
The lava river encircled his fortress and marked a boundary that by law he couldn’t cross, not until the time between his scheduled battles with Apollyon, an angel who had served Heaven for centuries before turning his back on that realm for the sake of a woman, had passed.
Lucifer hadn’t won one in centuries. He had taken several for the team without receiving any shred of gratitude in return, allowing the angel to defeat him so he would remain trapped in the bottomless pit and a band of fallen angels bent on destroying the mortal world would remain caged here with him.
Of course, it might have helped if he had informed Apollyon that he was losing on purpose, but storing up his losses and waiting for the perfect opportunity to mention to the angel what he had been doing all these millennia had been too enticing to resist.
His smile stretched a little wider.
It had been most satisfying to reveal to the angel just a few weeks ago that his hard won victories had been hollow and see the look on the bastard’s face.
The momentary flicker of pleasure that shot through his veins dimmed as he lowered his gaze back to the courtyard and it fixed on the current thorn in his side.
There was no chance of improving his mood now. It had hit rock bottom, thanks to a certain angel of Heaven.
Mihail.
When he discovered who had awoken the angel to his true purpose, restoring his memories at the same time, he would send his finest legion to Heaven to destroy them.
The angel flicked his long white hair over his shoulder but kept his icy blue eyes locked on Lucifer. The silent challenge they issued didn’t go unnoticed, but Lucifer knew better than to rise to it. Mihail couldn’t enter his fortress, thanks to powerful wards Lucifer had put in place after their last battle.
A fight that had seen almost half of Hell destroyed and turned to rubble.
Lucifer had enjoyed the millennia of peace that had come afterwards. Battling Apollyon was merely a workout for him, but fighting Mihail was a war and one that could easily claim his life. Only Mihail held the power to truly defeat him. Apollyon could only wound him.
Mihail could kill him.
Lucifer had no interest in dying and being thrust into limbo, wandering eternity as nothing more than a soul, maddened by being caged in a bleak world where he couldn’t communicate with those around him and tormented by his sins.
Not until he had settled a score with his former master and had his vengeance.
Not even then.
He never wanted to go to that dark place few angels knew existed.
Those who didn’t know of it had no fear of death, trusting they would be reborn in Heaven upon their demise, restored to their former glory, albeit without memories of their previous life.
The fools.
Lucifer knew better.
He had seen the corrupted souls of angels in the far reaches of his realm, heard their whispers on the wind and felt their suffering in his blood.
True death was possible for any angel.
He knew because he had killed one on occasion, damning them to a hellish existence.
Lucifer would damn Mihail in the same manner without even flinching if he had the chance.
The white-haired angel moved a step closer, his enormous glossy white wings shifting with the action, stark against the black pavement of the semi-circular courtyard and the obsidian armour he wore. The patches of golden skin visible between the black greaves that encased his shins, the strips of black that protected his hips, his short black breastplate and his vambraces that shielded his forearms bore tattoos now when once they had been clean and pure.
Lucifer’s smile returned.
Mostly because he felt sure that the bastard angel despised those tattoos and the one who had put them there—the fallen angel this male was linked to through duty and powers.
If Lucifer had the power, he would gift those angels who were linked to Mihail and his brethren with the ability to do more than merely change their skin by adding ink that would also appear on their counterpart. He would give them the power to amend their appearance in other ways. He wasn’t talking about haircuts and piercings.
He was talking about wounds.
Mihail spread his white wings, regaining Lucifer’s attention, but not for long. It drifted away again, his gaze roaming downwards and across the courtyard, to the prone mortal that lay like an offering on an altar between his fortress and the angel.
A woman.
Lucifer’s golden gaze narrowed on her and questions filled his mind again, ones that wouldn’t be ignored this time. Why had Mihail dumped an unconscious female in his courtyard?
Was she bait?
If the male thought he would leave the safety of his fortress for the sake of a mere mortal female, the fool was mistaken.
He eyed the female in question.
She had hair the colour of autumn leaves threaded with gold, strewn like the river of lava he so despised across the obsidian flagstones. Her skin was pale beneath the black dust that spotted it and the tear across the stomach of her white blouse. The thin shirt gaped open at the collar, and the angle of her body, with her shoulders flat against the paving and her arms resting above her head, caused the curve of one breast to show together with a hint of cream lace.
She looked weak like that.
Vulnerable.
Submissive.
Lucifer canted his head and allowed his gaze to drift over her. Her hips lay rotated, her left one raised and her knee pressing against the flagstones, pointed towards him. The short black skirt she wore rode high on that leg, revealing a long rip in her stockings.
What had Mihail done to the female before laying her out like a virgin sacrifice in his courtyard?
Lucifer growled low in his throat, the urge to leave his fortress and beat an answer out of the angel racing through his blood, setting it on fire. He had no love for mortals, and no use for females of their race when he had given up attempting to sire another child, but the sight of the woman stirred darkness in his veins, a deep and commanding need that he couldn’t quite decipher.
The angel backed off a step, his pale blue eyes still locked on Lucifer.
He was up to something. Playing the snake to his Adam, and she was the forbidden fruit. Lucifer wouldn’t be tempted though. He was stronger than the angel believed. More cunning.
Two of his angels flew over the tall spires of black rock that surrounded the courtyard and fortress, their crimson wings urgently beating the hot air as their scarlet eyes scoured the flagstones. Mihail turned to face them and the angels broke apart, keeping their distance from the male. They followed the curve of the wall towards the fortress and landed close to it, their wings furling against their red-edged obsidian armour as they touched down.
The larger of the two males rolled his shoulders and stomped forwards, cautiously approaching the female.
The other drew a long curved black blade from the air and set his sights on Mihail, snarling at him through twin rows of sharp teeth.
The angel of Heaven backed off a few steps before turning away and taking flight, heading back over the spires of rock towards the plateau.
Interesting.
Lucifer lowered his gaze back to his men. They warily approached the prone female. With good reason. He had ordered them to retrieve her and bring her to the entrance of his fortress. He hadn’t told them why. He had only warned them not to test his temper. No doubt they thought just eyeing the woman would be enough to have him trussing them up for punishment.
The larger Hell’s angel scooped the female up into his thickly-muscled arms and she rolled towards him, her cheek coming to rest against his hard breastplate.
A growl curled from Lucifer’s lips, rumbling up from the pit of his soul. He frowned at the hot need that pumped through his veins, a visceral ache that demanded he go down and take the female from his man and punish the maggot for touching her.
He clenched his fists at his sides, grimaced as his short black claws bit into his palms, and sharply turned away from the window. The female was nothing. The only reason he was bringing her into his home was because he wanted answers. He wanted to know why Mihail had brought her to Hell. He wanted to find out whether she was a trap for him and she was in on the plan.
Lucifer strode from the study and banked right along the corridor. Beyond the end of the hallway, the entire fortress opened up into a cathedral-like room in the centre of his home. He stepped out onto the walkway that ran around the one hundred foot high space and headed down the floating black stone staircase that cut directly across the enormous room and connected the third floor to the second one. Above him to his right, the steps to the fourth floor flowed upwards.
Warm light from the gilded bone chandeliers that hung from the underside of the staircases flooded the room and washed over him, giving more colour to his skin. He glanced down at his left hand, closed his eyes, and turned away from it and the memories of a time when his skin had been as golden as many of the angels who joined the ranks of his men on falling.
A time when he had flown carefree in the world of mortals and had lived to serve his purpose.
A time before he had realised what his true purpose was.
Lucifer ground his teeth, shoved those memories away, locking them back deep inside him where they belonged, and strode onwards, following the open-sided staircases as they criss-crossed the high room. Below him, the tall twin doors of the fortress opened and the heavy thud of boots echoed up to him. He glanced down at the two Hell’s angels, issuing a silent command to halt and wait for him.
He would take their new guest from here.
Lucifer stepped down onto the polished black floor of the entrance hall and took swift strides across it, his Italian leather shoes clicking with each determined step. As he approached, the two angels bent their heads, and the larger one held the female out to him.
He reached for her and tensed as an unfamiliar sensation shot down his arms and pooled in the pit of his chest, stopping him from taking hold of her.
It took him a moment to name the emotion.
Apprehension.
Lucifer sneered at the feeling and crushed it out of existence. The mortal was weak. If she was in league with the angels, he would crush her out of existence too. There was no need to fear her. She was no threat to him. There wasn’t even a need to fear Mihail.
He took the redhead from his man, cradling her with one arm behind her back and the other tucked under her knees, and turned away from the angels to head for the stairs. Once she was conscious, he would begin questioning her, and if she spoke a lie he would know it. If she wasn’t in on Mihail’s plan, then he would keep her alive. She would become bait for the angel. The male was sure to return to take her back from him sooner or later.
Lucifer didn’t care which it was. He had infinite patience when it came to taking down an enemy, and Mihail’s demise was long past due.
He took the first step and paused as he glanced down at his cargo. Soft pink lips parted as her head lolled away from his chest, her breath escaping her on a little sigh. Russet brown eyebrows puckered and then smoothed, and Lucifer canted his head.
The world around him fell into silence as he studied her face, caught up in wondering what she was dreaming.
She wasn’t a threat to him.
She was nothing but a mere mortal.
A weak creature he could end with little more than a thought.
So why did the weight of her in his arms, the warmth of her body against his, and the scent of her curling around him all feel dangerous to him?

Grab the boxed set for just $0.99 to read this story and seven others…

Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/dark-and-damaged/

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