by Zoë Mullins
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Monday, May 28, 2018
Release Day Blitz - Professor’s Kiss by Sienna Blake
Danny O’Donaghue.
Indie rock god.
Lady killer.
The devil with midnight hair and blue-flame eyes.
After six years I thought the pain of what he’d done to me had faded.
Guess not.
Because I’m standing in this crowded lecture hall of the most prestigious music school in Ireland, staring at the person who healed me when I was broken. Right before he shattered me beyond repair.
And I still feel everything.
My ex-best friend.
My first love.
My tormentor.
…is now my professor.
Indie rock god.
Lady killer.
The devil with midnight hair and blue-flame eyes.
After six years I thought the pain of what he’d done to me had faded.
Guess not.
Because I’m standing in this crowded lecture hall of the most prestigious music school in Ireland, staring at the person who healed me when I was broken. Right before he shattered me beyond repair.
And I still feel everything.
My ex-best friend.
My first love.
My tormentor.
…is now my professor.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I demanded. “We used to be…friends. Best friends.”
More than friends.
I swallowed as the tender memories rose up in my mind, pricking the backs of my eyelids. “Why pick on me?”
I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes before it was smothered by a smirk. “I like to watch you squirm. You go all red in the face like a tomato when you get mad.”
That’s why he called me Dearg. Because of the way I blushed with my body. The way my pale skin was like a mood ring, broadcasting my anger, my embarrassment, my arousal.
“Why start that rumor?”
“Hypothetically,” he continued, “even if I was the one who started that rumor, you should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you?” My eyes almost bulged out of my head. I shoved at his chest. The asshole barely moved. I barely made a dent in his rock-hard muscles.
I was going to punch him, right there in his precious rock star junk. He better not want kids one day.
“You are fucking delusional.” I shoved him again.
This time he caught my wrist and spun me around, slamming me up against one of the lockers. The air whooshed out of me and not just because he was crushing me between the lockers and his hard body.
“Yeah, Dearg, you should be on your fucking knees thanking me with that pretty little mouth of yours around my dick.”
God. The sheer crudeness of his words. It should make me cringe. To slap him across the face. Instead, everything in my lower belly ached, my lips parted and all I could do was blink up at him.
“The pool for your v-card has been cancelled,” he continued. “That cunt will leave you alone now instead of trying like a fucking chump to pretend to be a good boyfriend while just wanting to get in your panties for money and bragging rights. So, yeah, you should be fucking thanking me.”
“You’re trying to tell me that you told everyone I was a god damn lesbian to help me?”
His lip lifted up. “Yeah. Say thank you.”
He shifted back, just an inch of space, just enough to allow him to drop his towel. He dropped it. Right in front of me. No shame.
I glanced down before I could stop myself, half mortified, half curiosity raging like a storm.
His dick was hard. Long and thick and…perfect.
“Go on, Dearg. What are you going to do with it?” he taunted in a low voice.
“I…”
Grab it.
Lick it.
Suck it.
Pull it inside me.
His arms came up beside my head and he leaned in, trapping me, his hard cock hot and hard against my belly. Dear God. I was going to combust. Or pass out from lack of oxygen.
“Or,” his lips traced my cheekbone, sending hot and cold shivers throughout my body, “maybe you really are a lesbian.”
Rage flooded over me, temporarily overriding lust. I shoved him back with both hands and he stepped back laughing.
Bastard. He didn’t want me. He was taunting me. Teasing me. Pushing me to breaking point.
He almost won.
And I almost gave in.
Stupid me, I almost gave in.
More than friends.
I swallowed as the tender memories rose up in my mind, pricking the backs of my eyelids. “Why pick on me?”
I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes before it was smothered by a smirk. “I like to watch you squirm. You go all red in the face like a tomato when you get mad.”
That’s why he called me Dearg. Because of the way I blushed with my body. The way my pale skin was like a mood ring, broadcasting my anger, my embarrassment, my arousal.
“Why start that rumor?”
“Hypothetically,” he continued, “even if I was the one who started that rumor, you should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you?” My eyes almost bulged out of my head. I shoved at his chest. The asshole barely moved. I barely made a dent in his rock-hard muscles.
I was going to punch him, right there in his precious rock star junk. He better not want kids one day.
“You are fucking delusional.” I shoved him again.
This time he caught my wrist and spun me around, slamming me up against one of the lockers. The air whooshed out of me and not just because he was crushing me between the lockers and his hard body.
“Yeah, Dearg, you should be on your fucking knees thanking me with that pretty little mouth of yours around my dick.”
God. The sheer crudeness of his words. It should make me cringe. To slap him across the face. Instead, everything in my lower belly ached, my lips parted and all I could do was blink up at him.
“The pool for your v-card has been cancelled,” he continued. “That cunt will leave you alone now instead of trying like a fucking chump to pretend to be a good boyfriend while just wanting to get in your panties for money and bragging rights. So, yeah, you should be fucking thanking me.”
“You’re trying to tell me that you told everyone I was a god damn lesbian to help me?”
His lip lifted up. “Yeah. Say thank you.”
He shifted back, just an inch of space, just enough to allow him to drop his towel. He dropped it. Right in front of me. No shame.
I glanced down before I could stop myself, half mortified, half curiosity raging like a storm.
His dick was hard. Long and thick and…perfect.
“Go on, Dearg. What are you going to do with it?” he taunted in a low voice.
“I…”
Grab it.
Lick it.
Suck it.
Pull it inside me.
His arms came up beside my head and he leaned in, trapping me, his hard cock hot and hard against my belly. Dear God. I was going to combust. Or pass out from lack of oxygen.
“Or,” his lips traced my cheekbone, sending hot and cold shivers throughout my body, “maybe you really are a lesbian.”
Rage flooded over me, temporarily overriding lust. I shoved him back with both hands and he stepped back laughing.
Bastard. He didn’t want me. He was taunting me. Teasing me. Pushing me to breaking point.
He almost won.
And I almost gave in.
Stupid me, I almost gave in.
Sienna Blake is a storyteller & inkslnger, wordspinner of love stories with grit, and alter ego of a USA Today Bestselling Author.
She loves all things that make her heart race — rollercoasters, thrillers and rowdy unrestrained sex. She likes to explore the darker side of human nature in her writing.
If she told you who she really was, she’d have to kill you. Because of her passion for crime and forensics, she’d totally get away with your murder.
Sign up for my newsletter and get Paper Dolls, a full-length romantic suspense as a thank you gift. You'll also be the first to hear about new releases, sales and giveaways - www.subscribepage.com/SiennaBlake
She loves all things that make her heart race — rollercoasters, thrillers and rowdy unrestrained sex. She likes to explore the darker side of human nature in her writing.
If she told you who she really was, she’d have to kill you. Because of her passion for crime and forensics, she’d totally get away with your murder.
Sign up for my newsletter and get Paper Dolls, a full-length romantic suspense as a thank you gift. You'll also be the first to hear about new releases, sales and giveaways - www.subscribepage.com/SiennaBlake
Release Day Blitz - Wargasm by Sosie Frost
Marius Payne is the kind of soldier who makes me go commando.
He’s the only man I’ve let invade my foxhole, but now he’s occupying my heart.
And that’s when he drops a bombshell.
Marius is arrogant. He’s broody. And he’s wounded in more ways than one. The only way he can secure a cushy job in DC is if he softens his image and transforms from a rogue Navy SEAL into a family man.
So, of course, I agree to have his baby.
Make love, not war.
Then make war.
He’s the only man I’ve let invade my foxhole, but now he’s occupying my heart.
And that’s when he drops a bombshell.
Marius is arrogant. He’s broody. And he’s wounded in more ways than one. The only way he can secure a cushy job in DC is if he softens his image and transforms from a rogue Navy SEAL into a family man.
So, of course, I agree to have his baby.
Make love, not war.
Then make war.
“So, Marius…” Gretchen bravely offered a smile. “Give me one good reason why I should sleep with you.”
I grinned. “No bullshit?”
“At your request.”
“If you want to make a man’s wishes come true, I can give you a much better request.”
“What more could you ask for?”
I smirked. “Now there’s a dangerous question.”
She rolled her eyes. “So, we’ll start easy.”
“On the contrary, sweetness. You make this very hard.”
“And you’re making this far too difficult,” she said. “I just need a reason. Why should I get into bed with you?”
“I shouldn’t have to convince you. Isn’t the offer of endless pleasure enough?”
Her giggle was bright, lovely. “And what if I like to be teased?”
I doubted that. “Do you?”
“I suppose I do,” she said, “And I think a man like you knows how to tease a woman.”
“Sweetness, I just spent the last three months getting my leg sewn back together. I’ve been bounced through four countries, three different hospitals, and now I’m stuck at my family home. I’ve been through enough shit. I don’t need to tease right now. I’ve earned the real deal.”
She smiled now. Amazed by me or maybe just curious. Either way, it be her downfall.
“Are you always this sort of ravenous beast?” she asked.
Occasionally. “I’m a man who gets what he wants.”
“And what will you do when you get it?”
“That, sweetness, is up to you.”
Gretchen didn’t answer. She peeked over her shoulder and whistled with her thumb and finger. Her dog returned, but the little mutt didn’t look the least bit ashamed. He offered her the leg. I reached for it, but Gretchen took it instead.
Great. She examined the prosthetic. Hell, I’d avoided looking at the damn thing for the past month. But she turned it over in her hands. Bent the joint at the foot. Study the mechanism for the knee. Even winced as she peeked into the cast for what remained of my leg. It didn’t disgust her. Quite the opposite. She looked intrigued.
Or at least, a little guilty for slobber-coated plastic.
“You didn’t have to send the dog after it,” I said. “If you wanted a piece of me, all you had to do is ask.”
“If only he had come back with your wallet.”
“I can think of a far better place to grab me.”
Gretchen snorted. “So, I guess the alpaca isn’t the only dick on this farm.”
I shook my head. “No, the alpaca’s the ball sack.”
“And here I thought the big bad military hero would have the biggest balls in Butterpond.”
“Only because they’re underused.”
She laughed. “And I’m supposed to take pity on you?”
I shrugged. “I got plenty of pity. A good blow job though? That’s how you really thank the troops.”
Gretchen tossed the prosthetic to me. “And here, I thought I was pulling your leg.”
I took it, but I wasn’t strapping it on in front of her. Wasn’t likely to move either. Last thing I needed was for Gretchen to see my one and a half legs or the raging erection tenting my shorts.
“You know,” she said. “You make it really hard for me to have a crush on you.”
That was the most wholesome shit I’d heard in years. “You’ve got a crush on me?”
“Why bullshit?”
I liked this girl. “Good. I’m not a man who does formalities.”
“What do you do?” Gretchen asked. “Since we're being so honest with each other.”
“Everything a little girl like you his wanted but never dared asked.” I lowered my voice, a dark and sensuous promise. “Pleasure. Excitement. The fucking of a lifetime.”
She wasn’t convinced. “You make it hard to resist.”
“You’ve never been truly fucked until you’ve been taken by me.”
“And what if I’ve never been fucked before?”
“Life isn’t that good to me.”
I grinned. “No bullshit?”
“At your request.”
“If you want to make a man’s wishes come true, I can give you a much better request.”
“What more could you ask for?”
I smirked. “Now there’s a dangerous question.”
She rolled her eyes. “So, we’ll start easy.”
“On the contrary, sweetness. You make this very hard.”
“And you’re making this far too difficult,” she said. “I just need a reason. Why should I get into bed with you?”
“I shouldn’t have to convince you. Isn’t the offer of endless pleasure enough?”
Her giggle was bright, lovely. “And what if I like to be teased?”
I doubted that. “Do you?”
“I suppose I do,” she said, “And I think a man like you knows how to tease a woman.”
“Sweetness, I just spent the last three months getting my leg sewn back together. I’ve been bounced through four countries, three different hospitals, and now I’m stuck at my family home. I’ve been through enough shit. I don’t need to tease right now. I’ve earned the real deal.”
She smiled now. Amazed by me or maybe just curious. Either way, it be her downfall.
“Are you always this sort of ravenous beast?” she asked.
Occasionally. “I’m a man who gets what he wants.”
“And what will you do when you get it?”
“That, sweetness, is up to you.”
Gretchen didn’t answer. She peeked over her shoulder and whistled with her thumb and finger. Her dog returned, but the little mutt didn’t look the least bit ashamed. He offered her the leg. I reached for it, but Gretchen took it instead.
Great. She examined the prosthetic. Hell, I’d avoided looking at the damn thing for the past month. But she turned it over in her hands. Bent the joint at the foot. Study the mechanism for the knee. Even winced as she peeked into the cast for what remained of my leg. It didn’t disgust her. Quite the opposite. She looked intrigued.
Or at least, a little guilty for slobber-coated plastic.
“You didn’t have to send the dog after it,” I said. “If you wanted a piece of me, all you had to do is ask.”
“If only he had come back with your wallet.”
“I can think of a far better place to grab me.”
Gretchen snorted. “So, I guess the alpaca isn’t the only dick on this farm.”
I shook my head. “No, the alpaca’s the ball sack.”
“And here I thought the big bad military hero would have the biggest balls in Butterpond.”
“Only because they’re underused.”
She laughed. “And I’m supposed to take pity on you?”
I shrugged. “I got plenty of pity. A good blow job though? That’s how you really thank the troops.”
Gretchen tossed the prosthetic to me. “And here, I thought I was pulling your leg.”
I took it, but I wasn’t strapping it on in front of her. Wasn’t likely to move either. Last thing I needed was for Gretchen to see my one and a half legs or the raging erection tenting my shorts.
“You know,” she said. “You make it really hard for me to have a crush on you.”
That was the most wholesome shit I’d heard in years. “You’ve got a crush on me?”
“Why bullshit?”
I liked this girl. “Good. I’m not a man who does formalities.”
“What do you do?” Gretchen asked. “Since we're being so honest with each other.”
“Everything a little girl like you his wanted but never dared asked.” I lowered my voice, a dark and sensuous promise. “Pleasure. Excitement. The fucking of a lifetime.”
She wasn’t convinced. “You make it hard to resist.”
“You’ve never been truly fucked until you’ve been taken by me.”
“And what if I’ve never been fucked before?”
“Life isn’t that good to me.”
Sosie Frost is no stranger to quirky, embarrassing, and wild situations, and she’s channeling all that new adult angst into fun romances.
From marching at the high school homecoming game without her trumpet (a punishment for forgetting the instrument on the band bus), to regretfully tucking her prom dress into the back of her tights before pictures, and even accidentally starting a chemical fire in the college chem lab, Sosie has the market cornered on crazy stories.
But hey, writing is a better outlet than therapy right? 😉
If you want funny, charming, and steamy romances, you’ve found the right author!
Sosie lives in Pittsburgh with her hubby, her two cats, and thrives on a near constant stream of gummy bears.
From marching at the high school homecoming game without her trumpet (a punishment for forgetting the instrument on the band bus), to regretfully tucking her prom dress into the back of her tights before pictures, and even accidentally starting a chemical fire in the college chem lab, Sosie has the market cornered on crazy stories.
But hey, writing is a better outlet than therapy right? 😉
If you want funny, charming, and steamy romances, you’ve found the right author!
Sosie lives in Pittsburgh with her hubby, her two cats, and thrives on a near constant stream of gummy bears.
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