A love series not to miss by Kerry Adrienne
Saturday, August 30th, 2014

Sculptor’s Desire by Kerry Adrienne releases August 27~

 

To celebrate the release of Sculptor’s Desire, Artist’s Touch (book one in the series) will be on sale for 99cents from August 25-31.

Ellora’s Cave

Amazon

Barnes and Nobleartiststouch_Hires

 

Rocco Lazzaro is on a mission to find the perfect male body to sculpt. His inability to find “the one” has affected his creativity and he’s frustrated by his failure. With a Guild charity auction coming up, he’s expected to provide high quality sculptures, but the pieces he creates feel soulless.
When Devin, a yoga instructor, approaches him and offers to help, Rocco can’t quit thinking about the red-hot ginger. Devin’s New Age beliefs push Rocco away—he can’t deal with reality, much less mysticism. No auras and rainbows for Rocco—just stone and chisel and hammer.
But Devin is persistent. He knows he’s supposed to help Rocco find his muse—and he’ll stop at nothing to show him that the line between art and skin is very thin and a true muse can provide inspiration in many ways.
This story contains hot, sexy artistic scenes of M/M interaction as our sculptor goes hands on in more ways than one.

A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

I’d love for you to add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

Sculptor's Desire_HiRes (1)An Excerpt From: SCULPTOR’S DESIRE

Copyright © KERRY ADRIENNE, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Rocco clutched the purple fliers and stared out at the busy park from his seat. He’d posted enough of the papers for the day, not that it mattered. He’d never had luck distributing them before—the responses had never lived up to his expectations. He set his backpack on the ground and leaned back against the wooden bench. Why bother? Not like the perfect man was going to walk up, pick up the flier and actually respond. Not in this lifetime.

He lowered the sunglasses over his eyes. The late afternoon sunlight didn’t thread through the full-summer trees in this part of Central Park, but his shades allowed him to “bulge watch” as the throngs of tourists and New Yorkers paid homage at the mosaic shrine to John Lennon. The circular black and white medallion with “Imagine” scripted across its center was a place of reverence. Disciples had outlined the medallion with a peace sign made of fresh-cut flowers, and tourists took turns posing and taking pictures in front of the makeshift altar.

Rocco scanned the visitors. The place was a people-watcher’s dream, and for a Monday, the crowd was huge. Summer in the city always brought the tourists in droves of asinine clothing and hats and noise. Still, he had hope he’d find the one he was looking for.

The man who’d make his dreams come true.

He set the fliers on the bench beside him, then picked up one purple sheet and folded it into a fan, carefully creasing each fold. He tried to breathe out the hot air, but no doubt about it, the June day was steaming. New York was a sweltering change from the Adirondack cabin where he’d spent most of his time in the last month. Still, he was happy to be back in the city—his second home. The cabin was great as a quiet place to work, even though it was small, but its remoteness made it impossible to people-watch and gain inspiration.

Rocco crimped the last crease. His apartment in one of the Guild’s brownstones felt like home away from home. The Guild’s large studio provided the best space he’d ever had to work—tons of light and plenty of quiet. And his guildmates were like brothers, always ready to support each other through any artistic struggle, though he supposed they too were growing tired of his search for a perfect man. No one had actually voiced it, but he felt a distinct difference in the tone of the conversation when he brought the search up in conversation. With the upcoming charity auction in October, most of the artists would be working overtime and even less inclined to listen to his plight.

He fanned himself with the folded flier. Nothing to see at the moment. Not a single possibility in the groups of people gathered in the small courtyard. He scanned the area. The top edge of the Dakota Apartments peeked over the trees and Rocco glanced over the rows of tightly curtained windows. He’d never been inside the lavish building, though he knew several Guild members had been to private parties there. Rocco had been invited many times but had always declined. Wealth and showmanship weren’t his thing. He preferred the simple life where nature set the style, not John Varvatos and Marc Jacobs.

Strawberry Fields was a prime tourist spot. Too bad today’s mob held few specimens worthy of a glance, much less a stare. I’d think the simple math odds would warrant at least a couple prospects. Add in summer shorts, and there should be at least a good bulge or two…

He glanced at the stack of fliers—about fifty of them left. He’d put up as many papers as he could around the park over the last hour. Who was he kidding? After years of searching, he might as well give up on finding the ideal male. He set the fan on the bench and shoved the stack of fliers into the front pocket of his backpack and zipped it up.

He’d held several open calls with no luck. Something inside him pushed him to keep looking, keep trying, no matter how many times he failed. The same something kept him awake at night and tore apart his thoughts during the day. He’d find what he was looking for and he wouldn’t stop until he did, no matter what it took. It didn’t matter if it cost him his friends, his guildmates, his sanity. That was art, wasn’t it?

“May I sit here?”

The soft, lilting voice wove through Rocco’s thoughts and he paused. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat when he saw where the voice originated. Broad shoulders and a flat abdomen encased in a perfectly tight white T-shirt. Tall, but not overly so. Blue jean shorts, snug. Red cropped hair that glistened gold at the tips and fell over in a lock of bangs. Rocco gazed from top to bottom and licked his dry lips.

Red, white, blue, and all American.

“May I?” the man repeated.

“Sure.” Rocco fumbled with his pack and slid over to make room on the wooden park bench, pushing his folded fan behind him and out of the way so the stranger could sit down.

“Thanks,” the man said, dropping onto the bench.

No, thank you. But not so close. The vibrations of the man sitting raced through the wood of the bench into wood between Rocco’s legs. He swallowed hard, pushing back the anxiety. “No problem,” he said, half-whispering. He peeked then gazed down again. Finally, someone worth looking at. Only the man was so freaking near, Rocco felt as if he could feel the heat emanating from the man’s hotness.

Too close. No comfort.

The man scooted back on the bench and stretched out his legs. “Long day. I’m exhausted. Didn’t expect there to still be such a crowd here this time of day.” He blew out a long breath and closed his eyes.

Despite the heat, a shiver raced through Rocco and he eyed the fluid line of the man’s form. If he’d had a sketchpad, he’d do a quick gesture drawing of the long stroke of torso and limbs.

Not knowing what to say, Rocco turned away. A group of noisy teens descended on the mosaic like a swarm of bees, laughing and shouting and taking photos of themselves in stupid poses. Rocco blinked away the distraction and looked back to the man sitting beside him.

Not bad. “Yeah.” Hell, not bad at all. “It’s crowded.” He squeezed his thighs together to control his body’s reaction. Why couldn’t the man have chosen to sit on the other side of the path where Rocco could observe without having to talk?

“Such a loud crowd, at that.” The man opened his eyes and peered at the teen spectacle then shook his head. “They need to relax. Chill. You’d think they’d never been outside before.”

Rocco nodded and followed his gaze. A teen had picked up one of the flowers from the medallion and was tossing it into the air and catching it. “Tourists. New York can’t live with them, or without them.”

“Tourist?” The man asked. “Aren’t you? I can’t place that accent, so I assumed you were. Where are you from?”

“Italy.” Rocco sat up straight, trying to not be obvious in staring at the man’s muscular legs. He must be some kind of athlete. Was this man a candidate or had the hour of staring at subpar specimens clouded Rocco’s judgment? “Well, born in Italy, but I’ve lived in the city for several years. Many, actually. I consider myself a New Yorker now.”

“Ah, so Italian with some city dialect. Not a tourist. What’s your name?”

Rocco flipped his sunglasses up onto his head. “Rocco Lazzaro. Not a tourist.” He forced a smile. Meeting new people in person wasn’t something he was used to doing.

“But very Italian, I see. Nice to meet you, Rocco.” The man held his hand out. “I’m Devin Johansson. Also not a tourist. I live on the East Side.”

Rocco took Devin’s hand in his own and shook it firmly, aware that his own hand was clammy with anxiety. “Good to meet you too, Devin.”

Devin clamped down on Rocco’s fingers and held on. “Oh. You have working hands,” he whispered. He pulled Rocco’s hand closer and rubbed Rocco’s palm with long, soft fingers. “And your aura shows great creativity.” He looked up. “What is it you do?”

The teens moved on down the park path, giggling and talking loudly as they went. Rocco glanced over at them, trying to still the shudder that played along his arm as Devin rubbed his hand. A calm, warm feeling flowed up through his arm and into his chest. Even in the summer heat, the warmth felt good. Too good. Wait, what did he say? What the hell?

“My what? My aura?” Rocco yanked his hand away, immediately aware of the loss of warmth. Great. The first good-looking guy he’d met this week was a fruit loop New-Ager.

 

Sign up for my no-spam newsletter by the end of August to be entered to win a $50 Amazon gift card: Blog/newsletter form

 

About the Author:

Kerry writes about love in its many forms, and enjoys exploring the dynamics of relationships and the quandaries people get themselves into. She lives in suburbia, but is making plans to escape to the ocean and NYC, as both places hold a piece of her heart.

 

You can connect with Kerry here:

Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Pinterest

 

You can purchase Sculptor’s Desire here:

Ellora’s Cave

Amazon

Get Scorched by Bue Heat
Friday, August 29th, 2014

OUT TODAY!!!!!!

Another Samantha Cayto winner!

Finn Callaghan’s quest to prove his father wasn’t dirty and to follow family tradition leads him to become one of Boston’s brave. Like his father and brothers, he proudly wears the blue but as an openly gay man. His first assignment—going undercover as a teenage runaway. The sexy detective in charge is a bonus and a distraction he just can’t pass up.Blue Heat

Only half out of the closet, Michael Caruso heads a task force to end an underage prostitution ring that preys on homeless gay teens. He has mixed emotions about using the hot young rookie as bait. Finn is perfect for the part, but Michael’s attraction to the pretty cop might botch months of work.

Attraction turns to alarm as Finn goes deeper undercover. Can Michael keep him safe? And even if he can, how can he protect himself from the danger falling in love?

 

 

 

 

And have your tries her hot SEAL story, Catching Eagle’s Eye?

SEAL sniper, Dane Sawyer, is known as Eagle Eye for his deadly aim. He’s also good at hiding his identity as a gay Dom. Childhood trauma has led him to live and play deep in the closet. Then a bullet to his thigh lands him on leave and in the incredible hands of a hot ensign assigned to get him back in the field.

Will Chadwick is happy to finally be living as an openly gay man in the Navy. And as a physical therapist, he’s used to coaxing bad asses like Dane into doing their PT. perf5.000x8.000.inddHarder for him is resisting the temptation that Dane presents. He’s a patient and hiding his sexuality. A prudent man would keep his distance.

But Dane doesn’t know how to quit, and seducing Will has become a mission. The budding sub in Will can’t resist the Dom’s commands. If he could only make Dane see that being a man doesn’t mean hiding his true self.

 

AMAZON   BARNES & NOBLE  KOBO THE WILD ROSE PRESS  ALL ROMANCE eBOOKS

 

 

 

 

And be sure to keep up with her on Twitter @SamanthaCayto

Brand new author with a smashing new book
Thursday, August 28th, 2014

Meet

Sayara St. Clair and her anguished sub, Caitlin Bennett. I asked her how she came to write this book.

Here’s what she told me:

The type of books I love reading the most, have high levels of emotional and sexual intensity. I found myself wanting to write the type of book that I would enjoy reading myself. And I believe it’s pretty hard to find something more intense than a relationship involving BDSM. The concentrated focus, the implicit trust and those laid-bare type emotions inherent in a loving Dom/sub relationship, can be utterly mind-blowing.

You know that feeling you get when you read a story and your heart beats a little faster from anticipation? You feel almost nervous for the couple, hoping that soon things are going to work out for them. You can’t seem to turn the pages fast enough. I love that feeling. And the books that stay with me for a long time after I’ve read them are the ones that make me feel that way.

I sincerely hope that my stories will have the ability to affect other readers in that same way.

Hurt Me, Heal Me

Dante’s Purgatory, Book One

After the death of her Master, Caitlin Bennett discovers years of sadistic cruelty at his hands have made her a slave to pain. To orgasm, Caitlin needs the type of extreme agony few responsible Doms are willing to inflict, especially Doms like Paul Nelson. Offering nearly everything she craves, Paul’s perfect—except for his aversion to the whip.

Paul refuses to hurt Caitlin, instead attempting to retrain her with patience and trust. But the longer she suffers from a lack of release, the more she’s convinced her mind and body are irrevocably conditioned. And Paul has precious little time to convince her otherwise. Waiting in the wings is a newbie Dom determined to have Caitlin for his own…who’s learning the whip just for her.

She’ll soon have to choose—the man who can give her what she wants? Or the man who can give her what she needs?

Inside Scoop: Caitlin recalls scenes of abuse that could disturb the more tenderhearted.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt:Book Cover HMHM

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: HURT ME, HEAL ME

Copyright © SAYARA ST. CLAIR, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Paul stood at the top of the stairs to the second floor of the club, captivated by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She looked young and fresh and innocent—and so darn mouthwatering.

He had been standing up on the second floor watching the patrons downstairs. It had been quite a while since he’d mingled with the masses. He wasn’t even sure why he kept coming to the club, considering he couldn’t even summon the enthusiasm to do the bump ’n’ grind out on the dance floor or watch the couples in the common area, let alone seek out some warm, willing sub to flog and to fuck.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but for quite a while before his self-imposed dry spell, all the women he’d slept with had left him feeling cold. Sure, he could get off, and he could get them off, but it left him feeling empty, and even worse when it was over. Maybe he was just tired of the parade of jaded, hardened subs with their silicone boobs and porn-star moans. He needed something, but damn if he knew what it was.

Maybe what he needed came in the form of a five-foot-some little angel with alabaster skin, a veil of dark, silky hair and big, wide, ball-breakingly beautiful eyes?

From his vantage point, he’d spotted her as soon as she came in the door. She’d stood there for about five years, just watching. Looked like a fawn in the headlights—poor little thing—and he’d been instantly intrigued. Couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

He knew the exact moment she’d seen the couples in the public area. He could almost feel the tension vibrating off her body from all the way up on the second floor. And when she stepped away from the door and started walking through the club, his dick had stiffened. Instantly. And then he couldn’t even remember his own name, let alone when that had last happened.

Hot damn, that swishy little skirt swayed and flipped around her thighs with every step. Tantalizing him, making him burn to tear it off to see what was underneath. And those gorgeous legs encased in fishnet stockings. He loved those darn things, and didn’t they look so much naughtier on this sweet little girl.

The bustier she wore was laced up the front nice and tight. It pushed up the creamy swells of her small breasts—real, honest-to-god breasts—to their full advantage. Man, that top just begged for unlacing to free those luscious mounds into his awaiting palms. Mouth. Tongue. Teeth. Mmmm hmmm.

So hard. Agonizingly hard. He palmed his erection through his pants.

She had walked through the club mesmerized, until she got right up to the partition separating the general crowd from the kinksters playing publicly for their own as well as the crowd’s enjoyment. Trixie must have told her not to stand up against the wall; it was a house rule, making sure everyone could get a good view of the proceedings. But there she stood, palm on the glass, totally oblivious to the rows of chairs behind her that were set up for observation.

He was spellbound, watching her, taking in her every reaction to what she was seeing. It was observing Ray’s aftercare of Sara that elicited the strongest response in her. She began trembling, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and it seemed as if she were struggling just to keep it together. She needed something—badly. He hoped to god and all the saints it was him. He started down the stairs. He had to get to her. Immediately.

In his haste to get to the little woman, Paul almost knocked over Ray as the guy was trying to get up the stairs with Sara in his arms. Paul mumbled an apology and stopped two steps down, letting the couple past. Before he could get going again, some newbie staff member chose that moment to do a little impromptu meet-and-greet and the chatty little bastard attempted to talk Paul’s ear off. And he offered his ear only, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the woman.

Caitlin watched as the Dom carried his sub out of the room, all the while whispering to her. The sub was curled up with her head resting on his chest and a dreamy expression on her face. As they went upstairs to the private rooms—where no doubt he would make love to her, not just fuck her—they had to veer around someone coming down the other way.

That someone now stood near the top of the stairs, staring at Caitlin with such single-minded focus that a jolt of awareness ran through her, from her head to the tips of her toes.

Oh my, oh my, oh my.

He was like some kind of demigod standing up on high, surveying all that was his. And presently he was surveying Caitlin rather intensely with a deeply penetrating gaze. She felt another jolt, this time low in her belly.

Wow, that was new.

Caitlin had never had that kind of response before from just looking at a man. And he was a fair distance away. She could only imagine what she would feel if he got anywhere near her. Perhaps she would self-combust? Melt in a puddle at his feet? She wondered why she was responding this way—all pangs and contractions in her belly. Must be because she was so shaken by what she’d seen, watching the Dom and his sub. Maybe the small matter of not having had an orgasm since the beginning of time.

Perhaps it was the pepperoni pizza she ate for dinner.

Yes, it had to be that.

Although, looking at this guy, she decided he could probably make most women vibrate internally from fifty paces.

He was tall and broad-shouldered. His thick, slightly wavy hair was sandy blond and fell just to his shoulders, curling up a little at the ends. A face one would call ruggedly handsome—with its broad planes, chiseled cheekbones and strong, square jaw—was shadowed with sexy designer stubble, which just added to the whole rugged-man vibe he was giving off. He looked as though he spent time outdoors, sporting a lovely natural tan.

A gray turtleneck sweater clung to his frame, showcasing his broad chest and strong arms. His black dress trousers were of a looser style than most of the tight, black-leather variety worn by many of the other men in the club, but they didn’t hide the fact that underneath, he was powerfully built. He stood tall and strong and just radiated an aura of authority and command.

Big. Strong. Gorgeous. Pure alpha male.

He looked at Caitlin as if he knew what he wanted and he was going to take it. What he wanted being her. Caitlin got that feeling again, as if she were prey. Except there was something about his eyes—a hint of amusement, perhaps? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. One corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly. But instead of looking cruel, like it had on Ivan, it looked almost like anticipation.

Well, Caitlin sure was anticipating.

She realized she’d been standing there with her mouth hanging open, ogling a perfect stranger. Perfect being the operative word.

Geez, Cait, pull yourself together.

Caitlin felt herself blushing and turned her attention back to the Doms and subs in the common area.

The woman having her feet tortured was wriggling and squealing now. Funny, Caitlin hadn’t heard a thing while she’d been busy gawking at Mr. Good Vibrations on the stairs.

The young man being given electrostim treatment was begging his Domme to release him, to let him come. Poor guy. Caitlin could relate. Maybe the two of them could form a little club. They could call it WOBINA—Want Orgasm But I’m Not Allowed.

Caitlin felt a familiar churning in her gut when the guy started crying and begging nonstop, chanting over and over, “Please let me come, please let me come, please let me come.” Although it didn’t look as if he was coming anytime soon. Or going anywhere, for that matter, with that nasty-looking metal cock-and-ball cage contraption keeping him from even pointing his penis in the right direction.

Caitlin squeezed her eyes shut and blew out a breath; it was just too excruciating to watch.

She felt a finger slowly stroking along her shoulder and down her arm. She stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath. It was him. He had come to her.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.

Caitlin gulped and opened her eyes as she turned to face him.

“Oh!” she gasped in surprise and jumped back a fraction.

The man was staring at her—however, he wasn’t the one she’d been expecting.

Purchase locations:

 

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Hurt-Me-Heal-Dantes-Purgatory-ebook/dp/B00MFQ6I62

 

 

Barnes & Noble:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hurt-me-heal-me-sayara-st-clair/1120066369?ean=9781419949258

 

 

All Romance ebooks:

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hurtmehealme-1587674-340.html

 

 

Ellora’s Cave:

http://www.ellorascave.com/hurt-me-heal-me.html

 

 

 

Social media links:

 

Website: http://www.sayarastclair.com

 

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sayara.stclair

 

Twitter:https://twitter.com/SayaraStClair

 

Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/Sayara-St.-Clair/e/B00MGB0JKW

 

Ellora’s Cave Author Page:http://www.ellorascave.com/index.php/authors/index/author/slug/sayarastclair/

There are always Risk Factors.
Tuesday, August 26th, 2014
4 Hot SEALS; 4 Great Stories
Friday, August 22nd, 2014

Ride the Mustang by Desiree Holt is #1 in SEALs GOING HOT seriesperf5.000x8.000.indd

Fletcher “Mustang” Call is a dedicated SEAL and a committed Dom. The one thing he isn’t is relationship material. A tragedy in his past killed his desire for more than a good time on leave and a little D/s play. Until April Coe walked into his life, a woman unlike any he’s known. Problem is, she’s as vanilla as they come.

April was warned about Mustang, a man as wild and free as his call sign, so she doesn’t expect him to stick around for long. That’s okay, she’ll enjoy the great sex while she can. At least, she thought it was great. When she senses her sexy bronco is holding back, she has to decide whether to ride the mustang a little harder or set him free.

 

 

 

 

BURNING FOR NERO by Cerise DeLand is #2 in SEALs GOING HOT series!perf5.000x8.000.indd
Who is Nero? Tony Nero is a SEAL going home for July 4th weeken to see his family and the woman he has tried to forget for more than a decade! On leave due to an injury, Navy SEAL Tony Nero heads home for a little R&R and some Fourth of July fun. When his buddy’s widow Cass Phillips picks him up at the air station, Tony figures he’s in for a sexually frustrating few days. He’s had the hots for the blonde siren for years, but his best friend won her heart first. Even though Ray’s been gone more than a year, Tony bets Cass isn’t interested in any man. Not him. And especially not another SEAL. Cass has a bone to pick with longtime friend, Tony. After her husband died, he was the closest thing her little boy had to a father figure. His visits stopped abruptly and her son doesn’t understand why. Neither does she. She’s also unable to quench her growing need for the tough and tender man. She’s already loved and lost one SEAL, but that doesn’t stop her from burning for Nero.

 

 

 

perf5.000x8.000.indd

CATCHING EAGLE’S EYE By Samantha Cayto is #3 in SEALs GOING HOT series! SEAL sniper, Dane Sawyer, is known as Eagle Eye for his deadly aim. He’s also good at hiding his identity as a gay Dom. Childhood trauma has led him to live and play deep in the closet. Then a bullet to his thigh lands him on leave and in the incredible hands of a hot ensign assigned to get him back in the field. Will Chadwick is happy to finally be living as an openly gay man in the Navy. And as a physical therapist, he’s used to coaxing bad asses like Dane into doing their PT. Harder for him is resisting the temptation that Dane presents. He’s a patient and hiding his sexuality. A prudent man would keep his distance. But Dane doesn’t know how to quit, and seducing Will has become a mission. The budding sub in Will can’t resist the Dom’s commands. If he could only make Dane see that being a man doesn’t mean hiding his true self.

 

 

 

 

 

TOUCHED BY MIDAS By Brenna Zinn is #4 in  SEALs Going Hot series

perf5.000x8.000.indd As a Navy SEAL, Michael “Midas” Baudine trains countless hours to prepare for combat. But a man can’t train for luck, so preserving his “Midas touch” good fortune is something he takes seriously, and he’ll go to extreme measures to get his team on-board with his pre-mission, luck-assuring routines. He accepts a challenge from his team—get the sexy but uptight teacher, who blocks his advances at every turn, to the rock concert a week from today, and they’ll comply.

With a crazy rock star dad and top supermodel mom, Angie Summers was once a wild child but, wanting more out of life, has done her best to live under the radar of fame. She’s even assumed a secret identity and found a job teaching at Naval Station Rota, Spain. Her attempt at a “normal” life is quickly turned on its ear when a hot-as-hell Navy SEAL sweet talks her into a date she’ll never forget and may eventually regret.

While spending time with the muscle-bound sailor unleashes Angie’s need to let the wild child out to play, which could threaten her anonymity, Midas finds himself on the precipice of breaking the first rule of luck—never fall for a woman.

Where can you  buy them?

AMAZON  BARNES & NOBLE  KOBO 

ALL ROMANCE eBOOKS

RIDE THE MUSTANG

BURNING FOR NERO

CATCHING EAGLE’S EYE

TOUCHED BY MIDAS

Tweet your thoughts to the authors:

@desireeholt

@CeriseDeland

@SamanthaCayto

@BrennaZinn

Want to meet the authors in person? Check out the Wild Wicked Weekend where they are four of the hostesses. WILDWICKEDWEEKEND

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