Leaving Yesterday
Laurel Falls #1
By: Zoe Dawson

Releasing February 9, 2016
Loveswept

If you love Susan Mallery, Kristan Higgins, or Rachel Gibson, don’t miss the start of this captivating small-town romance series! Laurel Falls, Montana, features spectacular mountain scenery—but it takes a rugged cowboy to convince one woman to slow down and enjoy the view.
Rafferty Hamilton doesn’t plan on putting down roots anytime soon. With her divorce final, the hotel heiress has left Manhattan behind to scout new locations for her family’s chain of resorts. Which is why it’s so frustrating to be stranded in Laurel Falls while a good-looking, slow-talking, Stetson-wearing mechanic takes his sweet time with her overheated coupe.
A decorated vet who paid his dues in Afghanistan, Trace Black can fix anything with an engine and get it revving—even Rafferty’s ridiculous sports car. He’s couldn’t say the same for the knockout driver, who looks like she’s never gripped a gear shaft in her life. Women like Rafferty don’t usually stick around in Laurel Falls, but Trace finds himself showing her everything his hometown has to offer before she cruises on down the road.
As the days pass, Rafferty finds herself charmed by the pace of life and the openhearted warmth of the residents. She’s even tempted to trust again—and it’s all thanks to Trace. He’s not the kind of guy she’s used to falling for, but he just might be the man she needs.
Excerpt:

“Trace!”

His sister Cadence’s voice carried all the way out to the garage bay where Trace Black was currently installing a new muffler. He rolled himself out from under the car and rose, grabbing a clean rag and wiping his hands. He headed to the ranch house that was to the back and side of Black’s Garage, their family business. Situated on a tree-lined street with other houses, some looking a bit worse for wear and some empty and foreclosed, the worn-clapboard green house with the covered front porch was in pretty good shape. Trace and Reese handled most of the upkeep, the original wood floors and woodwork intact and refinished. The garage in the back filled with car parts and a couple of vintage cars lying unfinished since their father’s death.

Black’s Garage was now really his business, although he supported his sister with the income. Trace liked working with his hands. When he hadn’t been killing insurgents in the desert, he had been fixing the engines of the Humvees his unit traveled in. His skills had kept his platoon mobile, and when they were mobile, they were just a tiny bit safer.

He looked at his watch and was surprised to find how early it still was. He was usually up at six in the morning—old marine habits were hard to break. The military taught him that sleep was optional. But Harley, his younger brother, was restless ever since he got home from the VA hospital, so he’d been up and down throughout the night, giving up on sleep at about four that morning. Trace entered through the back door, where his brother Reese was in the kitchen making his breakfast. He shot his older brother a withering look. “Can’t you—”

Reese held up his hands with a knife slathered in peanut butter in one and a slice of toast in the other. “This involves teenage angst and girly things.”

“Aw, kee-rist, and you’re leaving it to me?”

“Trace!”

“I’m in the kitchen.” He managed not to bellow, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you keep your voice down?” he said when she came into the kitchen still in her PJs. “Harley is probably still sleeping.”

“He’s probably not now,” Reese said, arching a brow at his brother. He was fully shaved and dressed in a blue polo shirt and a pair of jeans, brown-tooled Western boots on his feet. Reese did like his boots fancy. His tall, muscled brother was a veteran firefighter in Kalispell, about thirty minutes away from Laurel Falls, but was currently off shift.

“You, big brother, are being such a big help.” Actually, Reese was a big help. Ever since their flaky mom had left—twice—Trace and Reese had taken responsibility for household chores and their younger brother and sister. That responsibility increased even more once their dad hit the bottle after the loss of his wife. Trace had been ten when his mother left the first time and his dad went after her. She came back, seemed to settle down, got pregnant with Cadie, and then disappeared when Cadie was only two. This time for good. He had no idea where she was.

Reese shrugged.

“What is it, Cadie?” Trace cocked his hip at his sister’s my-teenaged-problem-is-now-your-problem look.

“Have you seen my mango bra and panty set?”

He cut a look to Reese, but he quickly looked down and finished slathering his toast with peanut butter.

Trace rubbed at his tired eyes and ran both hands through his hair. “Why would I know where that is?”

“You did the wash. It was in the last load.” She shot at him like an accusation. Like a mango bra and panty set could be stolen and sold on the black unmentionables market.

He tried to remember the wash and the clothes that were part of the loads he’d done, but it all blurred together. “Does it have black lace on it?”

“No,” she said with a long-suffering teenaged sigh. “That is my orange set.”

“Wait. What is the difference between mango and orange?” he said, winning him another contemptuous look.

“Well, for one thing they’re different fruits,” Reese piped up.

Trace gave his brother his best sergeant-I’m-going-to-kick-your-ass glare, but Reese just smirked.

“Trace, really. Mango is much lighter than orange,” Cadie said as if he were the village idiot.

“Yeah, Trace, any moron would know that.” Reese nudged him as he walked past toward the counter and settled on one of the stools.

“Shut up,” Trace said, giving his brother a nudge back, then turning his attention back to Cadie. “Can’t you wear some other . . . ah . . . set?”

Her chin lifted and her eyes squinted. “No. I can’t,” she said, placing her hands on the counter. “I have cheerleader practice and I can’t wear a different set.”

Somehow that was supposed to make sense to him.

“Cadie.” He stepped to the island, his lips pinching together. He set his hands down on the counter, too, his fingers tapping. Speaking through his clenched teeth, he said, “You are going to be late for school.” He gestured with his thumb. “Now, get your butt in your room and get dressed.”

Cadie’s face set into a determined mask. She marched up to Trace and thrust out her chin. “It’s the only bra I have that holds—”

“For the love of God, do not finish that sentence. My ears will bleed.” He walked away, his shoulders hunched, cringing.

About the Author:


Zoe Dawson had always dreamed of becoming a full-time romance writer, and with determination, persistence, and a little luck that wish came true. Her other passions include traveling the world, owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.


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Call Me, Maybe
By: Ellie Cahill
Releasing February 9, 2016
Loveswept
“Ellie Cahill is definitely one to watch!” raves bestselling author Cora Carmack, and this steamy, upbeat modern romance about connecting in all the best ways proves it once again.
Clementine Daly knows she’s the black sheep. Her wealthy, powerful family has watched her very closely since she almost got caught in an embarrassing scandal a few years ago. So when Clementine’s sent on a mission to live up to the Daly name, politely declining isn’t an option. Of course, the last thing she does before boarding the plane is to grab a stranger’s phone by mistake—leaving the hunky journalist with herphone. Soon his sexy voice is on the line, but he doesn’t know her real name, or her famous pedigree—which is just the way Clementine likes it.
Despite all the hassles, Justin Mueller is intrigued to realize that the beautiful brown-eyed girl he met at the airport is suddenly at his fingertips. They agree to exchange phones when they’re both back in town, but after a week of flirty texts and wonderfully intimate conversations, Justin doesn’t want to let her go. The only problem? It turns out that Clemetine has been lying to him about, well, everything. Except for the one thing two people can’t fake, the only thing that matters: The heat between them is for real.

Excerpt:

“What the hell?”

Honor looked over. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone is going completely nuts. It sent me a whole bunch of text messages from myself. Look at this.” Was it possible to get a virus or a worm on a phone? And when had it happened? I held it out.

Honor squinted at it, then looked up at me, eyes going wide. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“That’s not your phone.”

“What!” I pulled the screen back to look at it myself.

Below my number the content of the messages was only partially visible, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.

+1 (847) 555-2015

YOU HAVE MY PHONE! PLEASE COME BACK TO . . .

+1 (847) 555-2015

WHO IS THIS? I HAVE YOUR PHONE . . .

Oh. Fuck.

I thumbed the lock open and had to search frantically for the messages app. It wasn’t where I kept mine on the screen. When I found it, it had the number 15 in a little red circle. The phone app showed another red circle, this one with the number 6.

Oh double fuck.

I said it out loud. “This is definitely not my phone.”

“I already said that. So whose is it?”

I scrolled through the increasingly frantic messages from my number. Whoever had my phone didn’t give a name.

I tapped into the phone app and selected my number. Tension drew me up high in my seat, stomach flopping like a fish, and all traces of drowsiness gone.

Ring.

No no no no no no no, this could not be happening to me.

Ring.

Honor must have grabbed the wrong phone at the airport!

Ring.

Who the hell had my phone?

Ring.

God, it could have been anywhere. It could have been on its way to Katmandu by now!

The sound of my own voice startled me. “Hi, you’ve reached Clementine. Please leave a message.”

As the automated voice gave me my options at the end, I realized I had no idea what to say. But it was too late to think about that now. Beep.

“Um, hi. I’m the person who has your phone. I am so sorry. I don’t know how this happened, um . . . I’m, um . . . please call me so we can figure out what to do.”

When I disconnected, I shot Honor a look of death. “You took the wrong phone!”

“It was the only one there!” he protested.

“Obviously not.” My hands curled tight around the strange phone as I fought the urge to punch him in the shoulder.

“I swear to god, Clementine, it was the only one there. You left it plugged in; I grabbed it, end of story.”

“Then how did this happen?”

“How should I know?”

Serena the flight attendant appeared in the aisle looking concerned. “Is everything all right here?”

“Fine,” Honor snapped.

“Don’t be a dick. It’s not her fault.”

“Well, it’s not my fault,” he said.

“Well, it sure as hell isn’t mine!” I said through gritted teeth then looked at Serena. Time to channel my grandmother. I gave her my best Miriam Schulman-Daly patrician smile. “Everything’s fine. Just a little problem with my phone. Thank you.”

The pilot hit the brakes as we arrived at our gate and the plane filled with the metallic chatter of seatbelts releasing. Serena hurried back to the head of the plane and Honor got up quickly, like he was determined to be the first one off. I guessed he was avoiding talking about this any longer on the plane.

Probably for the best. Because I was going to kill him after all.

He seemed determined to stay ahead of me the whole time, using his longer legs to eat up the terminal all the way to the escalators to baggage claim. I was out of breath by the time I got on behind him, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Oh no. The longer I had to think about this, the madder I was getting. I poked my brother in the back of his head.

“I swear to god, Honor, if we weren’t surrounded by witnesses—”

He turned, looking sullen. “It’s possible there were two phones plugged into the outlet, okay?”

“Uh, ya think?”

Just then the phone started vibrating in my hand.

It was a call, and it was coming from my phone.

“Oh god, it’s him—her—whoever.” I didn’t even know since I hadn’t listened to the no doubt angry voicemails. The texts had been enough.

Ring.

Was I about to get screamed at?

Ri—

“Answer it!” Honor exploded.

I swiped the phone to life. “H-hello?”

“Hello?” A masculine voice replied and I practically jumped out of my skin. There was a fifty-fifty chance it would be a man answering, genius.

“H-hi,” I stammered. “I’m the idiot who took your phone.” Probably best to approach this humbly.

He sighed, making static in my ear. “Hi there. Thank you for calling.”

“I’m very sorry,” I said.

“Yeah, me, too.” He sounded resigned. “What are we going to do?”

“Um . . .” I had no idea. What were the options, even? Probably the easiest thing to do would be for me to get a new phone, disable mine remotely, and import my number to the new phone, but that would leave this stranger with a dead phone and I’d still have his. Now theoretically, he could do the same but that presumed he could get a new phone where he was. And that he had the cash to do it.

“I could FedEx it to you, I guess,” I offered. My heart quailed at the thought of trusting my precious phone to any kind of delivery service.

“Meanwhile we’re both phoneless while they’re in transit.”

“Right.” I followed Honor to the baggage claim area on autopilot. All my concentration was on the phone.

“And that assumes that they don’t lose our packages.”

“Yeah,” I said, sounding much cooler than I felt. “Not my favorite option . . .”

“Mine either . . .” the voice said softly. “The thought of never seeing my phone again hurts in a way that I’m a little embarrassed to admit.”

I laughed, glad to hear I wasn’t alone. Though probably for way different reasons. “Okay, so what then?”

“Where do you live?”

“Chicago. But I’m in California until Friday.”

“You’re from Chicago?” he asked. “So am I. But I’m in Florida until Friday, too.”

“So, do we wait until we’re both back and trade?”

He made a soft whimpering sound. “I guess we have to.”

“I promise you I’ll guard it with my life until I get back,” I said.

“I’ll take good care of yours, too.”

About the Author:

Ellie Cahill is a freelance writer and also writes books for young adults under the name Liz Czukas. She lives outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with her husband, son, and the world’s loudest cat.

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Against the Wall
By: Jill Sorenson
Releasing February 2, 2016
Loveswept
Fans of Katie McGarry, Simone Elkeles, and Tammara Webber will love Against the Wall! As teenagers, they fell for each other despite the odds. But now that Eric and Meghan are all grown up, they’re reunited by fierce passion and dangerous secrets.
Eric Hernandez is the bad boy of every schoolgirl’s fantasies—and every mother’s nightmares. But after serving time for manslaughter, he’s ready to turn his life around. He just needs a chance to prove himself as a professional tattoo artist. The one thing that keeps him going is the memory of the innocent beauty he loved and left behind.
Meghan Young’s world isn’t as perfect as it looks. The preacher’s daughter is living a lie, especially now that Eric is back. Tougher, harder, and sexier than ever, he might be the only person she can trust. But there’s no telling what he’ll do to protect her if he learns the truth, and that’s a risk Meghan won’t let him take. And yet, back in the arms of the troubled boy with the artist’s soul, Meghan can’t help surrendering to the man he’s become.

Excerpt:

I didn’t want a party.

I’ve been out three months, living in the court-mandated halfway house in Chino Hills. I did thirty months of hard time and I’ll be on parole for another thirteen—if I stay out of trouble.

Easier said than done.

Today is my first day back in Chula Vista, the border town where I was born. It’s the only place I’ve ever called home. The only place I’ve ever been, besides Mexico. And prison. I’m still down for my barrio, Castle Park. I can hold my head high on these streets. I’ll probably die on these streets.

I told April not to make a big deal out of my homecoming, but I can see the decorations as soon as Jenny opens the door. Pink fucking balloons, like my prison release is a baby shower. I gave birth to a violent criminal record. Congrats!

Jenny is my niece, the daughter of my dead brother, Raul. She’s eight years old and cute as hell. I’ve only seen her a few times since I got locked up. April brought her to visit on my twenty-third birthday, about nine months ago. My eyes feel funny when I look at her.

She doesn’t hug me or say a word. She just smiles shyly, revealing a gummy gap between her front teeth. It reminds me of Chucho, one of my cellmates. He had missing teeth and a goofy smile that lit up his tattooed face.

“I’m looking for a little girl named Jenny,” I say. “She’s about this tall.” I hold my palm at my side, indicating a shorter kid.

“I’m Jenny,” she says, giggling.

“You can’t be! You’re too big.”

She steps aside to let me in. I set my backpack by the door. I took the bus from Chino Hills to the Chula Vista transit station and walked the last six blocks to the house. April is standing a few feet away next to her husband. She’s already crying.

Jee-sus.

How am I supposed to hold it together when she’s falling apart? I clear my throat and focus on Jenny again. She’s wearing a green dress. Her dark, shiny hair has pink ribbons in it. She’s the spitting image of her mother. Pretty and sweet, untainted by my brother’s bad blood.

I crouch down and remove a hastily wrapped present from my backpack. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.”

Birthdays, plural. I’d missed three of them.

It’s just one of those balero cup toys, the kind with the ball on a string, but Jenny acts like it’s the best gift ever. Her delighted expression makes my eyes burn again. I have to take a deep breath to recover.

“What do you say?” April prompts.

“Thank you,” Jenny says, a dimple appearing in her cheek.

I straighten to greet April next. Her face is rounder, her body lush in a new way. She’s wearing a flowery top that clings to her breasts but hangs like a drape over her middle. When she steps forward to embrace me, her stomach bumps into mine.

“You’ve gained some weight,” I say in Spanish, a kinder language for pointing out such things.

She releases me with a laugh, wiping the tears from her eyes. Then she rests a hand on the gentle slope of her belly. She’s always been beautiful. Her pregnancy accentuates her best qualities, giving her softer features and fuller breasts.

Noah steps forward and slides his arm around her. His big hand covers hers, protective. He’s noticed my appraisal of his wife’s new curves, but he’s too pleased with the proof of his virility to glare at me.

He’s okay, for a cop.

Officer Young spoke on my behalf at the sentencing hearing. If he hadn’t, the judge might have slapped me with ten years, the maximum for manslaughter. Instead I got the minimum, minus six months.

I’m lucky to be out. Lucky to be alive.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” I say to Noah. I shake his hand and pat him on the back, as if he’s accomplished this feat on his own. He laughs and April rolls her eyes at us. I’m grinning from ear to ear, happy for them both.

“We’re due in August,” April says.

“Boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know. We want it to be a surprise.”

A surprise. Like this party. In addition to pink balloons, the living room is decorated with pale blue streamers and a handmade sign that says welcome home, eric. But this isn’t my home, and it never will be. It’s Noah’s home, and April’s and Jenny’s.

And . . . Meghan’s.

I realize that I’m searching the background for her. My smile slips and my chest tightens with unease.

Meghan won’t be happy to see me. The last time I saw her, when she’d visited the jail where I was processed, I said a lot of nasty things to her. I said she was an easy lay, that I’d had better, that I didn’t care about her.

Lies.

Noah doesn’t seem mad at me for disrespecting his little sister, so I’m assuming she didn’t share the details of our breakup. Or maybe he’s so high on baby-making with his hot wife that he can’t be brought down. They look great together, like a perfect family from a TV show. Except that April and Jenny are of Mexican heritage, same as me.

I feel a mild sort of resentment over the situation: Tall, handsome white guy—a gang unit cop, no less—swoops in and snaps up one of the nicest, most beautiful girls from the hood. Then I remember that I fucked his sister. And probably broke her heart, if only for a few brief weeks during an already tumultuous time.

“Meghan’s not here yet,” April says, as if she can read my thoughts.

I shrug it off. “I said I didn’t want a party.”

“This isn’t a party. It’s just us.”

About the Author:

Jill Sorenson is the RITA-nominated author of more than a dozen romantic-suspense novels. She has a degree in literature and writing from California State University. Her books have been selected as Red-Hot Reads byCosmopolitan magazine, and have received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and Library Journal. Sorenson currently lives in the San Diego area with her family. She’s a soccer mom who loves nature, coffee, reading, Twitter, and reality TV.


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Blood In Her Veins by Faith Hunter
Roc Trade Paperback
$16.00
560 pages
Release: February 2, 2016
ISBN: 978045147576
In the brand-new “Cat Fight,” the witches and vampires of Bayou, Oiseau, are a war over a magical talisman, and Jane must figure out how to keep the artifact out of the hands of the Master of New Orleans. And in the never-before-published “Bound No More,” Jane welcomes a visit from Molly and her daughter, Angie, who is about to prove she’s the most powerful witch in Everhart history…
From the Big Easy to the bad bayou, from the open road to a vampire’s lair — with Jane Yellowrock, it’s always a given…have stakes, will travel.


SHADOW RITES, book 11 in the Jane Yellowrock series, is coming out in April 2016. Pre-order now!

About the Author:
Faith Hunter, fantasy writer, was born in Louisiana and raised all over the south. She writes three Urban Fantasy series: the Skinwalker series, featuring Jane Yellowrock, a Cherokee skinwalker who hunts rogue vampires. The Soulwood series, featuring earth magic user Nell Ingram. And the Rogue Mage novels, a dark, urban, post-apocalyptic, fantasy series featuring Thorn St. Croix, a stone mage. (There is a role playing game based on the series, ROGUE MAGE.)

Under the pen name Gwen Hunter, she writes action-adventure, mysteries, and thrillers. As Faith and Gwen, she has 30+ books in print in 29 countries.

Hunter writes full-time, tries to keep house, and is a workaholic with a passion for travel, jewelry making, white-water kayaking, and writing. She and her husband love to RV, traveling with their rescued Pomeranians to whitewater rivers all over the Southeast.

Find Faith online at www.faithhunter.net, her blog, on Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads; also www.yellowrocksecurities.com, and www.gwenhunter.com.


Faith Hunter has a $25 Starbucks gift card for ONE commenter who comments on all the blogs who're hosting the story parts (i.e. guest post stops). Blog tour schedule is here

You can also win 1 copy of Blood In Her Veins shipped from the publisher (US only, no P.O. Boxes please) here at Book Liaison by sharing this post OR leaving a question/comment for the author! Just leave some way for me to get a hold of you if you win (email, Twitter handle, etc.). Contest ends in 2 weeks, February 13th.

Review:

The Jane Yellowrock series is one of my favorite series, but I had never read any of the short stories from the series, so I jumped at the chance to review them. I loved being able to see Jane from the perspective of other characters, and was actually really surprised by some of them. I especially found it interesting to see the relationship between Jane and Big Evan, it showed me a whole new side to him that I hadn't seen yet just reading the novels.

I also loved finding out what Jane did after she left the children's home and how she got into doing the work she does. There were so many things that were briefly mentioned in previous books that we get to find out more about. It was a really good read, I loved it, and I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys the series!
Destroyed by the Bad Boy
By: Madison Collins
Releasing January 29, 2016
Self-Published
This book contains two complete erotic romance novellas with no cliffhangers.
Stranded ...On the way to our parents wedding in the mountains, the mother of all snow storms attacks, leaving me stranded in a remote cabin with my new stepbrother.
My hot as hell, I-need-to-change-my-panties because-they’re-soaked, cocky asshole of a stepbrother, Bentley McAllister.
The kicker of it all?
The only items he's packed are liquor and condoms, and he’s looking at me like he wants to put both to good use.
My name is Sierra, and my libido can only take so much.
Send help!
Caged ...Two brothers...
One girl...
Rising stars in the cage fighting circuit, Cage and Tripp Garrett are as close as two brothers can be. Fiercely competitive and smoldering with intensity, neither has ever lost a fight. Until they face their toughest opponent yet: Lily.
They both want her. But neither can have her. Lily is as off-limits as they come. They make a pact that the tough-as-nails daughter of their trainer will never come between them.
Until one of them begins to fall in love. Then all is fair in love and war.
Caged is a sexy, fast-paced love story with a punch.
Warning: Contains adult language and sexual content.
Excerpt from Stranded with my Stepbrother:
“Listen, princess.” I lift her chin toward mine, meeting this gorgeous big blue eyes. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re stranded together in the middle of fucking nowhere, with only each other to count on. You can fight me all you want, but there’s one thing you need to understand. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to take care of you. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m six-foot-four, and probably have a hundred pounds on you. My body is going to produce a lot more heat than yours. Now calm the fuck down, and let me get you warm. Got it, sweetheart?” Her fighting stops immediately.
She nods, coyly, blinking those baby blues at me, all of her anger disappearing. “Got it.” Her voice is small, and I suddenly feel like a dick.
“Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” I tug her body closer so we’re pressed tightly together, and I hold her to my chest, wrapping her in my arms. A contented little sigh escapes her lips. The top of her head doesn’t even reach my chin. She packs a lot of sass for such a small thing. I inhale, and breathe in the scent of her shampoo. The smell of vanilla and lavender fill my nose. Damn, who knew that combination could be so perfect? It’s intoxicating and I can feel my body slowly start to react to the smell and the images my mind starts to produce. The way her slight curves mold to my body serves to warm me up pretty damn quick.

After several moments, we’re both warmer. “There. Is that better?” I ask, releasing my hold on her before I sport an awkward boner. A few deep breaths are in order; otherwise things are going to get real weird, real fast.

About the Author:
Madison Collins is the author of romantic short stories such as Caged, Stranded with My Stepbrother and the upcoming Monster Prick. She enjoys the occasional stiff cocktail, and watching romantic
comedies. Most days you can find her curled up with a good book. She currently resides in New Jersey.


Alien Attachments
Alien Attachments
Book One
Sabine Priestley
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Kensington / Lyrical
Date of Publication: 8/18/14
ISBN: 978-1-61650-566-4
ASIN: B00KYUNEKO
Number of pages: 208
Word Count:  75K
Cover Artist: Renee Rocco
Finding one’s psi-mate is something every Sandarian hopes for, but when Ian Cavacent accidentally starts the bonding process with the Earthling, Dani, he has to fight his desire with every ounce of his being. If the process is completed, it would be both political and financial suicide for Ian and his family.
A natural klutz, Dani somehow always manages to land on her feet and win those mixed martial arts matches she’s so fond of. At home on Cat Island her balance is thrown when bazillionaire Ian takes notice.
Unfortunately some butt-ugly Torog aliens also take notice sending her life spiraling out of control and into Ian’s arms. But Dani isn’t the type of woman to let some alien voodoo decide her future or her mate…no matter how gorgeous the man is or how much pleasure he gives her.
For centuries the Cavacents have mined Earth for a precious element, carnium, while protecting the planet from other alien species.
Thanks to the Torogs, Dani and Ian must flee to Sandaria. As Dani learns to use her newfound psi powers, the empire crumbles around them.
Will their love be strong enough to keep them alive and get them back to Earth?
Excerpt Alien Attachments:

“Earth Protector? You’re kidding right?”
“No. Pretty much what it sounds like. Cliche as it may be, we are not alone in the universe.”
Dani held Jared’s gaze. She’d heard what he said, but couldn’t process the words. They sat on her brain like little beings, patiently waiting to be let in. Knock, knock. Dani let out a nervous laugh. Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go away. Jared didn’t blink. Or maybe not.
“So you’re not an EP?”
“Nah, I’m human, just like you. I’m what they call a Support Agent, or SA for short. I do what I can for Ian and the other EPs, but I’m based with Ian.”
“So you’re a spy.”
“Support agent, not secret agent,” Jared said. “Although, we are a secret.”
“You’re a spy for aliens.”
“Stop it. It’s not like that.”


Rebellion
Alien Attachments
Book Two
Sabine Priestley
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Kensington / Lyrical
Date of Publication: 10/13/15
ISBN:  978-1-61650-579-0
ASIN: B00SED1K1I
Number of pages: 169
Word Count: 72K
Cover Artist: Cora Graphics
Ria Montori is no stranger to kicking ass. Though petite in size, she packs a punch as a former Sandarian military officer who currently serves the Cavacent clan on a strange planet called Earth. She has no interest in seeking her one psi-mate who could bring her unparalleled pleasure through a sensual, otherworldly bond. She has no time for a lover of any kind. So why is she lured in by the beguiling Curzan native who just killed a government official?
Ty Sordina hates Ria’s kind. The Sandarians murdered his parents while he watched and enslaved his people. Driven by revenge, he vows that nothing and no one will stand in his way. Especially not a feisty redhead who challenges his every instinct and calls to his psi like no other.
But war is coming. And the two must succumb to temptation for only the power of their completed bond can defeat and destroy the enemy. But only if they surrender…




Excerpt Rebellion:

It was she and Dani’s turn to hold their base. Ian and Armond flushed the surrounding area. Ian was ahead in kills, but so far, she and Dani were ahead on team saves. So as usual, the women were keeping them alive, and the guys were shooting things.
Ria wiped the sweat from her eyes. “We need to pick a desert next time. This humidity sucks.”
“You get used to it,” Dani said.
The bushes to their left rustled, and both women swung their lasers in the ready.
Ian stepped out, and Ria sparked with envy when he grabbed Dani and planted a kiss on her before he disappeared back into the foliage.
“Seriously?” Ria said. “You can’t go an hour without locking lips?”
Ian’s laughter rippled through the trees.
Dani beamed.
Ria rolled her eyes.
Another rustle, and a four-legged creature with razor sharp teeth launched itself at Ria’s chest. “Morits!” Ria called out as she sliced the critter in half.
The sound of Ian and Armond battling away let her know they’d found the nasty critters as well. Six more made it past the men. Dani made easy work of the two that had targeted her. Ria nearly made it unscathed but when four hit her at once from all sides, one managed to latch onto her lower arm. Those jaws had some serious force, and her hand popped off, dropping the creature to the ground with it.
“Aw, come on. Not fair. There were four of them.” Ria lifted up her wrist and studied the bloody stump. “Halt sim.”
Ian and Armond approached from opposite ends of the clearing, equally covered in sweat.
Dani came to her side and inspected her handless arm. “It would almost be easier if they were bigger. It’s hard to keep track of them when they’re so small.”
“Perhaps your relative height to the ground also contributed to your demise,” Armond said.
Ria glared at him. “Are you seriously going there?”
“I’m simply stating that you were closer to them than Dani.”
“Whatever,” Ria said. “Little shits. Reset sim,” she called out.
Morit bodies and Ria’s hand evaporated. The illusion of a bloody stump did, as well, and her own hand reappeared as they all caught their breath. The jungle around them melted into the floor, and they soon stood in the metal gray of the sim room.



Liberation
Alien Attachments
Book Three
Sabine Priestley
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: KAC Publishing
Date of Publication: 12/1/15
ISBN: 978-1-62517-957-9
ASIN: B0157A0DP4
Number of pages: 206
Word Count: 72K
Cover Artist: Nathalie Gray of Kanaxa Designs
Following the signal of foreign psi to an old abandoned building on Florin 5, Balastar Alder literally stumbles across the pugnacious raven-haired beauty, Kit Athorika.
He’s not the only one who’s looking for the mysterious portal making devices in her possession. When Torogs attack, she ports them to safety. Without the help of a single Portal Master.
Balastar offers to repay the favor by getting her off-planet and back to her own ship. Their escape is complicated when the Torog’s pursue. Forced to go silent and lay-low in an asteroid field, they have little to do. Fortunately, the chemistry between them ignites and they find endless ways to occupy their time.
Balastar convinces her to come and meet his boss, Lord Cavacent. Recently relocated to Earth, the Sandarian clan included a handful of rogue Portal Masters. Kit has her own reasons for hating and fearing the Portal Masters, but she needs all the help she can get to save her planet. She reluctantly agrees to seek out Lord Cavacent’s help, and his connections to the Galactic Trade Organization and its powerful military.
The Portal Masters’ Guild on Sandaria has controlled intergalactic portals throughout the galaxy for centuries, and jealously guard their secrets. One of those secrets has kept Kit’s home world under quarantine for nearly thirty years.  But portals across the galaxy are failing and the guild is getting desperate.
Finding themselves bonded wasn’t expected, but having a psi-mate had its advantages. Can they free an entire planet and take down a guild as old as the  Masters without losing their lives?





Excerpt from Liberation:

"Frack, look." Kit said, pointing to the screen.
Torog ships blasted up the lines of each vector, including theirs. They were coming too fast. Before Balastar could get the required thrust needed, the Torogs scanned his ship as they passed. They slowed immediately and turned around.
Balastar watched his controls. "Three, two, one. Hold on." As soon as his engine hit the green line, he pulled out of position in the queue and shot straight up. The Gravity Modulator was engaged but the ship had to make a series of course corrections in order to avoid satellites and other low orbit objects. The seats automatically formed a cocoon around their bodies and heads, preventing whiplash. He gripped the arms of his chair and waited. Two and a half minutes later, they were clear and headed to the closest interstellar portal.
"We've got three following. Make that four," Kit said. "What do you think?
Balastar pulled up the specs for the Torogs' ships. "We'll outgun them before we'll outrun 'em."
"Can you take on four?"
"Do we have a choice?"
"Maybe." Kit flipped through nav charts with manic speed. She stopped and backed up. "How big is it?"
Her psi pulsed, and he grinned. "Pretty big."
She looked him up and down. "I meant the ship. How long is it?"
"Two hundred and twelve feet."
"That is long."
Another pulse of pleasure. If they kept this up they were going to go down fucking. Not a bad way to go, but he'd rather stick around long enough for a repeat performance.
Kit swiveled her chair to face him and leaned in closer.
Balastar met her halfway, their faces inches apart.
The brown of her eyes held specks of gold. She brushed her lips against his ear. His trousers were now far too restrictive. "And exactly how wide is it, Balastar?"
He turned his head and took a bite at the hollow of her shoulder sweeping his tongue in circles on her skin. He wanted to taste her. Everywhere. He sucked hard, leaving a mark.
 She groaned. "How wide?"
"Fifty-five feet." His adrenaline was cranking.
"Yes!" With quick rapid breaths, she swung back to the console. "We'll just make it."
As much as he wanted to continue their banter, staying alive was probably the better choice. "You have a plan?"
"Depends." She gave him a serious look. "How good are you?"
Another pulse left him desperate to lose the pants or change the subject. "I can take her anywhere."
"How long can she run silent?"
"A week, maybe more."
Kit hesitated a moment before sending the data to his com. "We'll make the portal. Take us to these coordinates, and I'll guide you from there."


About the Author:

A lifelong lover of books, Sabine grew up on Science Fiction, Fantasy and Romance novels. As a child she wanted to be an astronaut and travel the stars looking for aliens. As an adult she’s seriously disappointed we’ve yet to establish so much as a moon base (although she gives a hearty nod to the ISS) and is pretty sure Humans aren’t ready to meet ET.

An Electrical Engineer and Cultural Anthropologist by training, she's a geek with heart. She’s lived in more states than she cares to admit and loves to travel. When not in far off lands, you can frequently find her walking the local beaches and plotting her next adventure.  

Sabine lives in Florida with her husband, kids, cats and an increasingly large mess of characters in her head.


Twitter: @SabinePriestley




Tour giveaway
5 signed print copies of Alien Bond, a Short Story Sequel to the Alien Attachments series.
1 $40 Amazon GC
1 KickAss Chick Tote bag with KickAss Chick books and swag.

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Title: Never Say Never
Book #9 Prequel for Too Hot To Handle
Author Susan Arden
Series: Bad Boys (Zero to 60)
Genre: Western Erotica, Erotica Humorous
Releases: Jan. 5
IT'S HOT.
IT'S DIRTY.
ZERO TO 60
SEX UP AGAINST A WALL AND SOME.
If you can't stand the heat, better not come near this nuclear fusion Western, 'cause baby you will get burnt!
A random hookup...
TOO HOT TO HANDLE

Never Say Never: 86-page prequel releases Jan 5, 2016.

Excerpt:
Pulling away from my mouth, she gazed at me, her pupils fully dilated. “I’m ready to come. Are you?”

“Margo,” I grunted, taking hold of her hands. I wanted to kiss every inch of her skin. “I’m going to take my time with you. Suck on your clit until you soak my mouth.”

“Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere.” She piloted my hands down between her thighs. “Fuck me. So hard you bruise me. Fuck me everywhere,” she begged. “So rough it hurts. Really. Hurts. Can you?”

“Yeah.” I captured her wrists.

We stared at each other. She asked me to hurt her. Something I’d never delivered to another woman, but with her everything was different. Margo unlocked a side of me that demanded I mark her. Even if it meant she’d experience pain mixed with pleasure. I got what she was after—I hungered to give her that and more, but not in my truck. We’d need hours…days. And a plan.

“Please,” she whimpered, her breath sweet against my mouth.

“Not here. The next time we fuck, I want you in my bed. Open and submitting to me. Baby, I’ll give you what you need. So much, you’re going to surrender completely to me. Or not at all.”



IF YOU LIKE YOUR ROMANCE SO HOT
IT SMOLDERS,
then you've come to the right ranch.
This girl wants it hard.
This man isn't going to let her get away.
AND TOGETHER THEY'RE TNT.

Then on Jan. 12, TOO HOT TO HANDLE crash-lands!

Title: Too Hot To Handle
Series: Bad Boys (Zero to 60)
Book #10
Author Susan Arden
Genre: Western Erotica, Erotica Humorous, Military Romance,
Sports Fiction, Literary Fiction Western
Releases: Jan. 12

NOTE: Don't say you haven't been warned. This smoldering erotic love story is for mature adults who have a hankering to go a little dark. If you adore Alexa Riley or Tarryn Fisher, then you know the score. Get a shot of tequila or Jack, buckle up, and c'mon. We're about to enter the storm...


Remember all author earnings from the sales for January 2016 go to benefit the amazing Semper Fi Fund.

Are you TOO HOT TO HANDLE? Hope so!

~snicker~

About the Author:
After packing up and moving to Nashville, Susan married the man standing behind her at Starbucks. Her husband is an incredible guy who puts up with a fly-by-the-seat zany wife. Together, they support several charity organizations including RAINN.org, Semper Fi Fund, Diversity In Books, and a robotics program for children.

Susan loves comedy in all forms. And music—anything dance-able. You'll find her singing and dancing if she's in the kitchen and cooking. And speaking of things that sizzle, if romance starring a dirty-talkin’ sexy cowboy ignites your fire, then stay in touch via Susan's RED-HOT ROMANCE newsletter. Sign up for freebies, releases, and bad boy news!


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