❣️❣️ Re-Release Blitz ❣️❣️ Pandemic Sorrow Series by Stevie J. Cole



 A dirty-mouthed rocker is waiting for you.
Find out what it’s like
backstage with sex-crazed rockers. Filled with angst, laughs, and some
steam, Stevie J Cole’s Pandemic Sorrow Rocker sure to tickled your
rocker fancy.

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★ Re-Release Blitz ☆ How to Catch Butterflies Series by Samantha Fontien

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Title: How to Catch Butterflies Series
Author: Samantha Fontien
Re-Release Date: June 08
Release Day Blitz: June10-12
Hosted by: SBB Promotions

How to Catch Butterflies Book 1



Synopsis Logo

For 7 years Career girl Rebecca Keane had been stuck in an abusive relationship with David Rosenberg. Until one night, fate intervenes enforcing the strong minded Lucy Watters her long lost best friend, back into her life. Will David Rosenberg let her go? Together the two friends will embark on a journey of self discovery. Can they learn to trust or love again? Or will career’s and life get in the way. Can Rebecca and Lucy learn how to spread their wings and fly? Or will they fall into one of the men’s nets, and be caught forever? Join these two London girls on their international journey of love in the first part of a series of Butterflies books, because ‘ ‘A Girl should be pretty to see but hard to catch ‘should be pretty to see but hard to catch’

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It all happened so quickly. . . As the blood slowly dripped into her mouth she crawled, reaching for the phone, thankfully it wasn’t too far out of her reach. She could hear him upstairs in their bedroom, ranting and smashing as he went from room to room. He was like a tornado on its destructive path which was their flat. She shook her head slightly, trying to focus her swollen eyes and pressed the redial button. Thank God she had been speaking to Lucy earlier that evening.

Please Pick up…. Please pick up…. Please pick up Rebecca willed….Quick… as the noise came closer, getting louder and nearer. “Lucy, help me please,” she cried out, and then suddenly the call broke off into screams.

The line went dead…

HTCB Teaser 2

How to Catch Butterflies Book 2



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Did fate intervene again for Rebecca Keane and save her from being caught in a net forever? Will Jackson Harvey or Jason Hallow win the stubborn blonde back?

Since Lucy Watters life has changed too, will fate also have a hand in hers? Can Christopher Harper keep his Butterfly, or will George De Vere have his net ready to catch her when she falls?… Together the two friends embark on the concluding part of their journey of self discovery. Have they learned to love or trust again? Or will life get in their way? Can Rebecca and Lucy learn how to spread their wings and fly? Will they be pretty to see but hard to catch? Or will they fall into one of the men nets, and be caught forever?

Join these two Butterflies on the concluding part to their story. Follow them on their international journey of love, in the second part in a series of Butterflies books, because ‘Girls should be pretty to see but hard to catch’…

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Excerpt Logo

He walked in, dodging the pottery object that was hurtling towards his head, having left Lucy’s hand seconds earlier. “Hey, Lucy, come on?” He made a beeline for her, as she made off in the opposite direction heading towards the dressing table.

She was scanning it for more missiles to throw at him. Chris grabbed her arms, as she fought him off like a wildcat…

He was surprised, and instantly let her go; he hadn’t even grabbed her hard. He stood there stunned. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to do…

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I’m a Happily Married,MUM of 2. I LOVE Music…I should as I am the daughter Of Musicians and was reared with a guitar in one hand and a pen in the other.

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★ Re-Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway ☆ Rough: Chicago Underground #1 by Skye Warren 

Title: Rough
Series: Chicago Underground #1
Author: Skye Warren

Release Date: May 26, 2015
I’m a cautionary tale. A statistic. A victim. A single teenage mother from the poor part of town. Most of the time I’m too busy working and struggling to care what people think. Survival doesn’t come easy.

I have a dark secret, a pressure valve, a rare moment just for myself. On these nights I visit a club. There I find men who give me what I need.

Men like Colin.

But he wants more than a few stolen hours. He demands more than my body. He wants my heart and soul—my happily ever after. I never thought I’d be Cinderella. I never thought a man that rough could be my prince.
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He walked me backward, and we made out against the round fake-wood table, his hands running over my sides, my back. Avoiding the good parts like we were two horny teenagers in our parents’ basements, new to this. I shuddered at the thought. This was all wrong. His hands were too light. I was half under him already, my hips cradling his, so I surged up and nipped at his lip. Predictably his body jerked, and he thrust his hips down onto me.

Yes. That’s what I need. I softened my body, surrendering to him.

“Bed,” he murmured against my lips.

We stripped at the same time, both eager. I wanted to see his body, to witness what he offered me, but it was dark in the room. Then he kissed me back onto the bed, and there was no more time to wonder. The cheap bedspread was rough and cool against my skin. His hands stroked over my breasts and then played gently with my nipples.

My body responded, turning liquid, but something was wrong.

I’d had this problem before. Not everyone wanted to play rough, but I was surprised that I’d misread him. His muscles were hard, the pads of his fingers were calloused. I didn’t know how he could touch me so softly. Everything about him screamed that he could hurt me, so why didn’t he?

I wanted him to have his nasty way with me, but every sweet caress destroyed the illusion. My fantasy was to let him do whatever he wanted with me, but not this.

“Harder,” I said. “I need it harder.”

Instead his hands gentled. The one that had been holding my breast traced the curve around and under.

I groaned in frustration. “What’s wrong?”

He reached down, still breathing heavily, and pressed a finger lightly to my cunt, then stroked upward through the moisture. I gasped, rocking my hips to follow his finger.

“You like this,” he said.

Yes, I liked it. I was undeniably aroused but too aware. I needed the emptiness of being taken. “I like it better rough.”

Colin frowned. My eyes widened at the ferocity of his expression.

In one smooth motion he flipped me onto my stomach. I lost my breath from the surprise and impact. His left hand slid under my body between my legs and cupped me. His right hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back. His erection throbbed beside my ass in promise. I wanted to beg him to fuck me, but all I could do was gasp. He didn’t need to be told, though, and ground against me, using my hair as a handle.

That small pain on my scalp was perfection, sharp and sweet. Numbness spread through me, as did relief.

The pain dimmed. My arousal did too, but that was okay. I was only vaguely aware of him continuing to work my body from behind.

I went somewhere else in my mind. I’d stay that way all night.

At least that’s what usually happened. Not this time. Instead I felt light strokes on my hair, my arms, my back. His cock pulsed hot against my thigh, but he didn’t try to put it inside me, not in any of the places it would almost fit. His hands on me didn’t even feel sexual. He petted me, and I arched into his caress.

“Why did you stop?” I meant it to come out demanding, but instead I sounded weak. I hated sounding weak, especially about sex. He may be the one with the cock and the fists, but I called the shots. I had to.

“Allie, shhh. It’s okay.” He was trying to soothe me, and it was working. He turned me back over and began to kiss me, still murmuring words against my lips. “I’ll give it to you. Don’t worry. Relax.” More words than he’d spoken all night.

I was lost, my emotions all jumbled up from my arousal and my high and subsequent low, at the mercy of this stranger.

What’s happening to me? I needed to get back to something I knew. I wanted him to fuck me, to be inside me, to center me. I whimpered, hoping he’d understand. “Shhh.” He arranged my arms and legs so that they were splayed open on the bed and then kissed his way down my stomach.

 Author Bio

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

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★ Re-Release Blitz + Giveaway ☆ Speak of the Devil by Shawna Romkey

Title: Speak of the Devil
Series: Book #1 in the Speak of the Devil series
Author: Shawna Romkey
Genre: Paranormal YA
Release Date: April 15th, 2015

After dying with her two best friends in a tragic car
accident, Lily comes back to life only to wind up in the middle of a war
between good and evil at a time when God has disappeared.
What happens when falling in love and
falling from grace collide?
After dying in a car accident with her
two best friends, Lily miraculously awakens to grief and guilt. She escapes to
her dad’s to come to terms with the crash and meets some people at her new
school who seem all too eager to help her heal. Sliding deeper into sorrow and
trying to fight her feelings for two of them, she finds out who…what they really are and learns they are
falling too.

Can she find the strength to move on
from the past, reconcile her feelings for Luc, figure out a way to stop a
divine war with fallen angels, and still pass the eleventh grade?
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Book Trailer
Rain fell, not uncommon for late spring in Missouri. “If you don’t like
the weather here,” my grandfather would say, “wait five minutes.” Of course,
I’d visited distant relatives in Maine once before, and they said the same
Julie fumbled with
the wipers while I pulled the sun visor down to check my face in its little
rectangular mirror, even though I’d only left my vanity like five minutes ago.
The lights on either side lit up the interior of the car. I reached into my
tiny party purse to find my lip gloss, which was easy to locate since I’d only
packed the essentials in my bag: phone, some cash, and make-up. As I glanced at
myself, I saw Mike in the reflection, smiling at me from the back seat. I stuck
my tongue out at him, making him laugh, and put on the lip-gloss, fully aware
of how flirty I acted.
The windshield
wipers couldn’t keep up with the sudden downpour. The pitter-patter turned to
thumping. Hail came down in gumball-sized pellets. “Damn.” Julie jerked the
steering wheel to keep The Whale off the curb.
“Slow down, Jules.”
Mike gripped Julie’s headrest. “We can pull over until it passes.”
“Yeah.” She
squinted to see the road before her.
I pressed my lips
together to smooth out the gloss. “Damn is right. I didn’t bring a jacket.”
The Whale swerved
to the right crunching along the gravel on the side of the road. I braced
myself in my seat. Julie leaned up to the steering wheel and peered over it as
my grandmother sometimes did when she drove. I squinted because of the stupid
light up visor mirror. I slammed it shut, but Julie panicked and over
corrected, pulling The Whale to the left and careening over the yellow dotted
line in the middle of the street.
“Julie!” Mike
Time slowed and
ticked out in heartbeats.
Ba bum.
Julie cringed, her
hands moving up to shield her face. Her head turned away from the highway.
Ba bum.
Mike reached
protectively from the back seat.
Ba bum.
The headlights
illuminated the rail of the overpass.
Ba bum.
The car hit the
rail on the opposite side of the road with a hard thud.
Ba bum.
Crap. We’re going
over the bridge.
Ba bum.
The Whale’s nose
pointed down toward the water.
Ba bum.
A jolt forward and
my forehead slammed into the dashboard.
Ba bum.
The Whale flipped
in the air. I’m upside down.
Ba bum.
Ba bum.
Did my mom say
good-bye when I left?
Ba bum.
Cold water rushed
into the car.
Ba bum.
Is this it?
Ba bum.
I can’t breathe. Oh
my God, I can’t breathe. I can’t see or breathe!
My heart quickened.
It pounded. The Whale leaned on its side under the surface of the water which
rushed in fast, and I couldn’t see a damn thing.

Calm, stay calm.
Don’t panic. They say when you’re drowning not to panic because you use up your
air faster.

Dammit, am I drowning?

I tried to get
myself upright and jerked out of my seatbelt. Luckily, it gave way. I fought
the latch to open the door facing up, but the pressure of the water from Black
Water River held it closed, trapping me inside.

Jesus. I know this
river. It’s more of a creek. It can’t be more than fifteen feet across and ten
feet deep.

I pushed at the door. Opening my mouth to scream, I swallowed water.

I couldn’t see or
hear Julie or Mike. My watch ticked. Or was it my heart beating?
Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba
Defying gravity.
The dreams came.
Like a good sleep you don’t want to wake up from. I felt heavy and floaty. I
wore this long white gauzy gown and the wind blew my dress and my hair like in
some feminine hygiene commercial. I could breathe slowly and deeply. Completely
relaxed and at peace, but I was alone.
I floated along in
a white space for a while. Drifting. Breathing. Relaxing. Had I gone to a spa?
After an immeasurable amount of time, others appeared. They wore white
clothing, too, and they floated like me, reaching out. They opened their arms
as if to welcome me to them.
I stopped and
frowned. I heard no sound, and I didn’t know who these white floaty people were
or why they welcomed me. They smiled, genuinely happy, and held their arms out
to me. I panicked.

Where’s my mom? My
family? Wait, Mike and Julie were just with me, where are they? Are those

I noticed the others floating with me had white feathery wings.

“Lily,” one of them
called out.
Holy hell. I’m dead.

About the Author
Shawna grew up around
farms in the heart of Missouri but went to the University of Kansas, was raised
in the US but now lives on the ocean in Nova Scotia with her husband, two sons,
one rescue dog and one overgrown puppy from hell. She’s a non-conformist who
follows her heart.

She’s taught
English at the university and secondary levels for close to twenty years and
can’t quite fathom how all of her students have grown up, yet she’s managed to
stay the same.  She’s a huge geek and fan of Xena, Buffy and all kick ass
women, and loves to write stories that have strong female characters.

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