Blog Tour...Renewed by Harper Miller

Book Title: Renewed (The Kinky Connect Chronicles Book 2) 

Author: Harper Miller 

Genre: Erotic Romance/Erotica and Interracial/Multicultural Romance 

Release Date: June 22, 2015 

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

I was hurt. I was heartbroken. I felt abandoned and emotionally drained.

Sometimes heartache can open new doors.

Of course, names have been changed to protect all parties involved, but this is my story.

*Disclaimer* This is a novelette. Not a short story, novella, or novel. Content is intended for a mature audience, 18+.

Renewed is the second installment in The Kinky Connect Chronicles. The Kinky Connect Chronicles are short erotic stories/novelettes all wrapped up in neat little bows. These stories are standalones. No cliffhangers in the lot!

© Harper Miller 2015

brwngrltrvler: I’m not in NYC at the moment. I’m overseas, for work.

JapKenDoll: Nice! Your passport is getting a workout. That’s right, you did say it was late where you are. Where’d your travels take you?

brwngrltrvler: Why are you asking? You plan on flying all the way from New York, Superman? I’m in London.

There’s a long pause.

JapKenDoll: Good thing I just got my cape back from the dry cleaners. :) Tanya, I kid you not, I’m in Paris for work. It’s Fashion Week, which is a pretty big deal in my industry. I realize this is going to sound crazy, and you’ll probably say no, but I’d like to meet you. I fly out of De Gaulle with a layover at Heathrow for about an hour tomorrow. We can grab a cup of coffee as friends.

Well, that explains him checking into a hotel. Friends. Hmm, friends. Well, Kenji said he was transparent, but he doesn’t want to be just friends; I am sure of it. We were chatting via a kink-centric website. This is where people went for hookups. I’m sure he wanted something, something I most likely couldn’t give him.

brwngrltrvler: That’s a bad idea, Kenji.

JapKenDoll: Better to meet in London than New York, right? Afterward, you go off in your direction, I go in mine, and we never have to see each other again. Humor me. Have coffee with a man you’ll never see again. :)

I know it’s a bad idea, everything in my being is screaming it’s a bad idea. I’m emotional, I’m raw, I’m . . . stupid.

brwngrltrvler: What time?

Yes, incredibly stupid.

Harper Miller is a thirty-something native New Yorker. She’s traveled the world and lived in a variety of places but always finds her way back to the Big Apple.

A lackluster love life leaves time to explore new interests, for Harper it is writing. The Sweetest Taboo: An Unconventional Romance is her debut novel. In her mind the perfect Alpha male possesses intellect, humor, and a kinky streak that rivals the size of California.

When she isn’t writing, Harper utilizes her graduate degree in the field of medical research. She enjoys fitness-related activities, drinking copious amounts of wine, and going on bad dates.

She loves hearing from readers. Feel free to reach out!

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Review Tour...Dark Angel by Samantha Jacoby (with Review)

Dark Angel, A Summer Spirit Novella
by Samantha Jacobey,
Book 2 in the Summer Spirit Series
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: June 23^rd


Dark Angel - A Summer Spirit Novella… Can your Guardian Angel simply walk away?
Charlie and his girlfriend met last summer, after his awakening from a near death experience. Their love grew while his body healed, and after a few short months, he had come to believe she was the girl of his dreams. But Donna has a secret; one she had never intended to share with the love of her life.
While Charlie’s physical being had lain in a hospital, his spirit had traveled to another dimension - her world - where the forces of light and dark collide. When he had returned to the living side of consciousness, Clarisse stole Donna’s body, claiming it and giving herself a second chance at life and love. Of course, people who die are meant to stay dead, and there will be rough times ahead as Keeper, head of the angels, decides how to put things back in order...
Charlie stared down at their plates, guilt washing over him; “Damn.” He could tell she had put a great deal of effort into the meal, and he had blown it. “So much for overtime,” he muttered, turning to follow her to their bedroom. “Honey, I’m sorry,” he called more loudly.

Stepping into the room, he noted her hunched frame on the foot of the bed. Her face in her hands, her shoulders shook, signaling her silent sobs. Taking a knee before her, he sat back on his haunches while his fingers gently wound around her warm flesh, pulling on her arms to uncover her delicate beauty, “Hey.”

Allowing him to expose her tears, her face looked distorted, causing him to inhale sharply. “Don’t look at me Charlie,” she implored.

“Why?” he breathed the question. “Seriously, baby. What’s happening to you?”

Flicking her moist tongue over her lips, she whined, “You’ll call me crazy if I tell you. Just like you did Grandma Parker.”

“No, I won’t,” he pushed himself up onto his knees, his arms sliding around her waist, “Baby, I love you so much. We’re survivors, remember?” he alluded to their private joke. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me, an’ I promise; I would never call you crazy.”

She stared into his deep brown eyes, feeling as if they would swallow her whole at any moment. “My name isn’t Donna,” she stated flatly, “My name is Clarisse.”

Charlie’s lungs clamped down tight within his chest, as if she had knocked the wind out of him with a single punch. “Clarisse,” he coughed, squinting as he tried to make the connection. Finally, unable to do so, he stroked her long straight locks, “Honey, I’m not following.”

“That’s why she doesn’t know me,” she pulled herself up straight, “Because… I’m not me. And Grandma Parker can see it somehow.”

“I see,” he sank back down, heels to rear, “And how long has this feeling that you’re someone else been going on?”

“I told you!” she screamed, leaping to her feet, “Now you think I’m bat shit psycho!” she whirled around, moving to the window to peer outside, searching the darkness for some unseen enemy.

Watching her, he pushed himself up, standing slowly, “I never said that. I don’t understand. That’s all.”

“Of course not, you’re still you,” she quipped.

I was given a copy of this book for an honest review.  It's what I do. 

I have mixed feelings about this read.  While I found myself wanting to know what happened next, I will admit that it took me a moment to get with the writing style of the author.  I was surprised by the ending which is always a good thing for me.  I love, love, LOVE surprises.  I cannot stand predictable works.  They are so uninspiring for me.  I'm glad that I pushed through and completed the read.  It was a cute story.  With all of that said, I give this book a:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1RlSnf2
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Anyone who knows me could tell you, I am a friendly kind of person, never met a stranger and take up conversations any where at any time. I work hard, and my mind never seems to shut down, as I wake up often in the middle of the night with ideas pouring out and demanding to be dealt with. Of course that means much of my books were written in the middle of the night.


I grew up and still live in the great state of Texas where everything is bigger, where we have warm weather and a central location. I love my state, my town, and my family, which includes my four sons, my significant other, and many friends as well.

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing the books that are currently available and hope you will enjoy reading them just as much. And of course, there will be many more stories to come.
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Book Blitz...Better When It Hurts by Skye Warren (No Review)

Book Title: Better When It Hurts (Stripped, #2) 

Author: Skye Warren Genre: Dark Romance 

Release Date: June 4, 2015 

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

 

   

Five years ago we lived in the same house. He was the ultimate bad boy. And my foster brother.

Now he's back. Tougher, harder, meaner. All of it aimed at me, because I was the one who sent him away. It's payback time. He wants his pound of flesh, and I am helpless to say no.

 

   

The whistle of a belt coming off follows me into Blue’s bedroom. My breath stutters in my chest. I hear the threat of the movement, the speed and power behind it. It’s more than a man getting undressed.

There’s a hundred ways a belt can be used to hurt me. I know them well.

I turn my head to the side, addressing him but showing deference too. It’s an instinct now. It’s survival. “What are you going to do with that?”

“I’d rather show you,” he says, approaching me, prowling around me.

I don’t want him to hit me with that belt. Not because I can’t take the pain. I know I can, because I’ve done it before. I don’t want him to hit me because I might start hating him.

“Wait,” I say.

He doesn’t wait. One hand takes my wrist. Standing behind me, he leans close. “What do you think I’ll do with this? Make your pretty skin all red? Make you cry?”

I tense, twisting my arm. It only hurts me, and I’m still held tight. “Don’t.”

“I’m going to do both of those things before we’re done here, Lola.” He pauses, loosening his grip slightly. “But I’m not going to whip you with this.”

There’s only a second where I can feel relieved before I feel him drawing my other hand behind me. It’s a mistake to relax around him. Whatever I’m thinking, he’s doing something different. However much I brace myself, it’s still going to hurt.

He wraps the soft leather around my wrists, binding them together behind my back. It pushes my breasts out in front of me. Cool air brushes over my skin, tightening my nipples.

There’s weakness in this pose, being held, being open.

And there’s strength too, the pride of being wanted, the power of desire.

“On your knees,” he says so softly I almost don’t hear him.

I don’t know what he’s thinking. Whether he sees me as an object he can use or as an enemy he can conquer. I’m a little off balance, lilting to the side as I sink to the carpet. His hands cup my arms, helping me down, guiding my gently. It feels more like worship than anger, more like kindness than cruelty.

At least until the sharp sound of his zipper rips through the air.

His voice follows. “Candy doesn’t think I’ll hurt you.”

I shiver at the foreboding underneath the words. “Yes.”

He undresses slowly, methodically, exposing rough skin and dark hair and a thick, jutting cock.

I have seen his cock before, but only in the dark, holding it in my fist while I jerked him off, shadows and motion. Now I see the skin like the dark side of a peach, almost the color of a bruise. I see the curve of a vein underneath. I see the head of his cock, fat and proud and already glistening at the tip.

I see everything clearly because the saturated late-afternoon light still streams through his window. Our hours are all backward and twisted. Where another woman would do this at midnight, would expose her shame to the moon, mine comes open at five o’clock.

“She thinks you’re safe with me because I protect the other girls.” He approaches me, his cock near my face, his eyes looking down on me. “I even protect you.”

I choke out the words. “Because only you get to touch me.”

He nods approvingly. Candy doesn’t understand, he means. I understand. He’s showing me that we’re together on this, like some perverted joint mission where I agree to be hurt. And haven’t I? I showed up here of my own free will. Maybe I do want what’s coming to me.

 

Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romance.

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