Padme's Library: 09/27/16

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

What She Needs by Melissa Kendall

Title: What She Needs

Author: Melissa Kendall

Series: Castle Wolves #2

Genre: Erotic, Paranormal Romance

Release Date: September 23, 2016

Cover Design: Tibbs Design

Summary:

Elizabeth Summers is sick of being the baby sister of Garth the pack alpha. Her brother, with the help of his best friends, has taken it upon himself to scare off every guy who has ever shown any interest in her. With a little nudge from her sister-in-law, she decides to seek Madame Eve’s help to give her one night of pure pleasure.

Ernest (Brute) Chalmers is Castle Wolves’ pack enforcer and best friend of Garth. Out of respect for his friend, he has kept his feelings for Garth’s sister a secret. But when he over hears Lizzie talking about signing up for a 1Night Stand, he decides if he doesn’t make his move, he might miss out on his chance at love. Can Brute prove he has what it takes to meet Lizzie’s needs? Or will she send him packing for good?

Brute stared at the door and took a couple of deep breaths. Lizzie was not going to be pleased when he entered, but he'd practiced his speech over and over to get her to give him a chance.

Every night since he'd overheard Lizzie talking about signing up for a 1Night Stand, Brute had imagined this moment. He put his hand on the door handle and turned. The door opened to a room shrouded in darkness. Even with his shifter enhanced eyesight, he could barely see a thing. He could smell her though, her scent enticing as always.

"Remove every stitch of clothing and get on your knees." Lizzie's voice deep and sultry echoed around the room. He looked to the right where her voice came from, but still couldn’t make out any discernible shapes.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, sub. Naked and on your knees. You have two minutes and I will not ask again."

What the fuck! Did she just say sub?

Brute had no idea what he'd walked into, but her tone of voice indicated he wasn't to argue. Without further thought, he stripped until naked and dropped to his knees.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Now you wait, you insolent pup. Eyes to the floor, in silence until I am ready." Brute did as she demanded, a million different scenarios running through his mind as to what could come next.

He'd seen something like this once on a porn network. The movie had been called Mistress something, but it had been about woman who liked having men service her. The survey Madame Eve had required him to fill about his sexual preferences made a lot more sense now. What he didn't understand was why Lizzie wanted this for her 1Night Stand.

The click of heels on the wood flooring echoed in the room and it was obvious she was coming his way. She stopped right in front of him. Her shoes just in his line of vision. Her gaze was on him. He could feel it like a physical caress and it had him wondering how long it would take before she figured out who he was. It also had his cock at full alert. He liked having her admire him, had wanted it for so long.

"Well, well, Madame Eve, did good." Something ran up his left arm and across his chest. As it passed his line of vision, he figured out it was a riding crop. It then continued down his right arm ending with a quick flick on the tip of his cock. "Definitely a wonderful specimen. It still remains though to see just how good you are at serving your mistress. On your feet."

Brute kept his eyes on the floor knowing the moment she caught sight of his face whatever was happening would stop. And as much as he was out of his comfort zone, he didn't want to stop.

"Hmm, someone at least has some manners." Slowly, she moved around him. Any second now she was going to catch sight of his tattoo. "What the fuck!" Yeah, he hated being right. "Ernest Alexander Chalmers turn around and face me right the fuck now."

Brute cringed at the use of his full name. No one ever called him Ernest unless he was in trouble. He turned around as she asked. He expected to see fury in her features, but she just looked defeated.

"What are you doing here?"

He mulled over whether to tell her the truth or lie but he’d come this far no point in adding any more lies to the pile. "I'm your 1Night Stand."

"No you're not. Why would Madame Eve set me up with you?"

Brute took a couple of deep breaths before answering. "Because I asked her to."

No Such Thing as Can't #1
Summary:

After a string of failed relationships, thirty-five-year-old Madeline Majors worries her life will never be complete. Her obsession with having a child and her inability to conceive even though a multitude of doctors have said there is nothing medically wrong with her drives her to Madame Evangeline as her last resort.

Garth Summers is a shape shifter with a problem. As Alpha of his pack, he must have an heir by the time he is fifty years of age or a new alpha is chosen from the eligible males in the pack. But as a wolf shifter, he can only conceive with his mate who he has yet to find. With only six weeks remaining, he turns to Madame Eve for help.

Can a one-night stand bring two people the one thing they most desperately want, or will the reality of what they are send them both running?

Not What He Thought #3(October 21, 2016)

Summary:

Mason Taylor is beta of the Castle Wolves pack. Most people would describe him as a skirt chasing manwhore but in reality it had been years since he found any kind of satisfaction with a woman. Like his Alpha was, he is lonely and wants desperately to meet his mate. After seeing his Alpha find love and happiness through Madame Eve he decides to give it a try. He gives Madame Eve just one instruction - find him his soul mate. The moment he walks into the room, he catches his dates scent and knows instantly they are his mate. When he sees the person though he is shocked there has to be some mistake.

Sebastian Cooke has always known he was gay but growing up in the wilds of Alaska, he has always found it hard to truly be himself. After his friend and fellow pilot, Kate, suggests he give 1NS a try he figures he has nothing left to lose. The last person he is expecting to show up in his hotel room is Mason Taylor.

Can two men get over the preconceived notion of who each other is to find the love they have been desperately looking for?

Author Bio:

Melissa Kendall is a forty-year-old mother of two from Perth, Western Australia, the second-most isolated capital city in the world. Predominantly a stay-at-home mum, she works a few hours a week as a software support consultant. She has always loved to read and write, and spent most of her teens writing poetry and short stories. Over the years, daily life got in the way and she lost the passion for it, but after the birth of her first child, Melissa discovered e-books and her interest in writing rekindled. She is now the author of four published short stories. Matronly Duties is her first full-length novel.

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE

KOBO / SMASHWORDS

B&N / AMAZON / GOODREADS

What She Needs #2

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

B&N / KOBO / GOODREADS TBR

No Such Thing as Can't #1

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

B&N / KOBO / GOODREADS TBR

Brought to you by:

Stainless by Erica Chilson

Title: Stainless

Author: Erica Chilson

Series: Rusty Knob #3

Genre: M/M Romance, Contemporary

Release Date: September 24, 2016

Summary:
Foster brothers, Kaden Marx and Brennan Kennedy, are at a precipice for change. While Kaden has made a career out of higher education as a way to drag his feet from reentering the real world, Bren has been in the thick of it.

Join Kaden as he learns a valuable lesson – how having four degrees isn’t a measure of your true worth, nor is it a gauge for your maturity. Hyper-focused on the six-year age difference he has with Wynn, Kaden is blinded to the fact that Wynn is now a mature man ready for a stable future by his side.

Will Kaden and Wynn mature together, or will Kaden continue to stunt both himself and their relationship?

Over the past four years, Bren has held down a steady job, tried his hardest to please a wife who never wanted him, and raise their child in a cohesive manner. Unable to stay on this destructive path, Bren is making choices to ensure the happiness of his wife and child, not realizing he’s been placing the one person he truly wants in the friend-zone – Jackson.

The happy smile is a façade, for beneath it is a dark secret that has the ability to tear all of Rusty Knob’s major families to shreds. The terrifying past collides with the present, taking Brennan’s future down a dark spiral, where the truth is finally revealed and deep betrayals are felt.

Kaden Marx and Brennan Kennedy move back to Rusty Knob, attracting change in their wake… but whether it’s for the greater good remains to be seen.

Author Bio:
Erica Chilson does not write in the 3rd person, wanting her readers to be her characters. Therefore, writing a bio about herself, is uncomfortable in the extreme.

Born, raised, and here to stay, the Wicked Writer is a stump-jumper, a ridge-runner. Hailing from North Central Pennsylvania, directly on the New York State border; she loves the changes in seasons, the humid air, all the mountainous forest, and the gloomy atmosphere.

Introverted, but not socially awkward, Erica prides herself on thinking first and filtering her speech. There are days she doesn’t speak at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that she lives with her parents, giving her a sense of reality, she would be a hermit, where the delivery man finds her months after expiration.

Reading was an escape, a way to leave a not-so pleasant reality behind. Reading lent Erica the courage she gathered from the characters between the pages to long for a different life. Writing was an instrument of change, evolving Erica into the woman she is today- a better, more mature, more at peace thinker.

Erica has a wicked mind, one she pours out into her creations. Her filter doesn’t allow all of it to erupt, much to her relief. Sarcastic, with a very dark, perverse sense of humor, Erica puts a bit of herself into every character she writes.

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE / PINTEREST

GOOGLE+ / AMAZON / GOODREADS

Stainless #3

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / AMAZON CA

AMAZON AU / GOODREADS TBR

Rusty Knob #1

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / AMAZON CA

AMAZON AU / GOODREADS TBR

Tarnished #2
AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / AMAZON CA
AMAZON AU / GOODREADS TBR

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brought to you by:

Release Day Blitz: Heart of the King by Bruce Blake

Title: Heart of the King

Author: Bruce Blake

Series: Khirro's Journey #3

Genre: Fantasy

Release Date: September 27, 2016

Publisher: Paper Gold Publishing

Summary:

It began with a vial of blood, a curse, and a quest to a haunted land.

Now, Khirro's Journey comes to its end.

A king's spirit. A coward's heart. Together, a kingdom's last hope.

Sheyndust, the Archon, desires to be Necromancer and wield dark magic the likes of which the world has never seen. For years, her deadly plan has fallen into place piece by piece, treachery by treachery, death by death. With her enemies on their knees and an army of the dead at her command, nothing stands between her and the ultimate power for which she thirsts.

Nothing except a farmer and a dead king.

The curse that bound Khirro to his task was broken when the blood of the king spilled, but the king's spirit—a tyger of vengeful flame—burns bright within him. It pushes Khirro through hostile lands to return to his home. It pushes him to be more than he ever thought he could be despite the doubt and fear devouring him. It pushes him in a race against time to save the kingdom, a race he is bound to lose.

As the final pieces of the Archon's plot fall into place, and her power and army grow, it looks certain that all will be lost.

Unless a coward can look inside himself and find the heart of a king.

Chapter One

“They’re coming.”

Therrador sat on the pile of dirty straw, elbows on his knees, head hung. He didn’t raise his head when he heard the words.

Enough days had passed for him to lose track of their number; the guards had woken him every time he appeared to doze, and brought only water enough to keep him alive, nothing more. No food, no change of clothes, no medicine. The filthy bandage wrapped around his hand reeked of infection, and the stump of thumb hidden beneath ached with numb pain, though not so much as the untended wound in his thigh.

“They’re coming.”

A woman’s voice spoke the words, so he knew it to be either hallucination or the Archon toying with him. He had no interest in either.

“They still carry the essence of the king.”

The muscles in Therrador’s back and shoulders went rigid at the last words.

“Leave me be, witch. Haven’t you punished me enough?” His voice cracked in his parched throat and its tone of defeat surprised and embarrassed him.

The temperature in the cell dropped, and the feeling of a presence beside him brought goose flesh to Therrador’s arms. He looked up into the burning green eyes of a young woman, her freckled cheeks framed by red curls, and thought she might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

A trick.

“I am Elyea. I’m here to help you.”

“You’re not real,” Therrador croaked. “You’re another of the Archon’s tortures.”

“I’m not.”

She crouched in front of him and held her hand out to him. In the dim light cast by the torch in the passage outside the cell, and with his lack of strength and focus, it took a minute for Therrador to realize she held a cup.

Hallucinating like a dying man in the desert.

He stared at it but made no move to accept it. The woman didn’t move, either.

“Take it.”

Therrador considered for another moment before reaching out a weak and shaking hand. His fingers brushed the side of the clay mug, felt its solidity, its realness. Saliva rushed into his mouth at the thought the cup may contain relief from the thirst burning at the back of his throat, but he kept his eagerness carefully hidden. His fingers wrapped around the vessel’s cool surface and brought it close to his face; he peered over the lip at the liquid inside.

It looked like water.

He leaned closer to it and sniffed deeply.

No odor.

The edge of the cup touched his mouth and a splash of water lapped against his lips. Cool, tasteless. He slurped a little onto his tongue, the promise it held making his parched throat howl for more and, before he could stop himself, Therrador quaffed the water as fast as his mouth would take it. Water spilled over his chin, ran down his neck into his shirt. The cup’s supply never seemed to end allowing him to drink and drink and drink.

He drank until his belly hurt.

Energy flowed back into the king’s limbs. He pulled his mouth away from the rim of the cup and tilted his head back, drawing a satisfied breath in through his nose before gazing at the woman’s face. Her full lips tilted up at the corners in a gentle smile, her eyes shone. He didn’t know her, had never seen her before, but inexplicably felt he should trust her.

“Elyea, is it?” he whispered. “Who is coming?”

“You’ll know him when he comes, but he’ll need your help.”

Therrador scratched his stubbled cheek, felt the heat of fever burning in his head, and wondered if this woman and her words could be real. He turned the clay cup between his fingers; it felt real enough.

If the man bearing the king’s blood was coming, and he aided him, perhaps the Archon might be defeated. But this knowledge of her enemy’s inevitable arrival might also be the bargaining chip he needed to get his son back. He looked toward the cell door and saw the shadow of his undead guard beyond, so leaned toward the woman. She smelled of roses.

“When will he come?”

“Soon, and there will be a battle. That is where your help will be needed. Not even the king’s spirit can defeat the army of Kanos without help.”

Therrador nodded and stroked the long beard trailing from his chin, the braid which normally held it in place abandoned soon after he landed in the dungeon cell.

“I’ll need out of here.”

“I can’t help with that; it’s up to you. But I can help with this.”

The tips of her fingers brushed his wounded thigh. Pain flared along Therrador’s leg as if she’d touched him with a lit torch, and he sucked a breath between his clenched teeth, biting down against the agonized cry in his throat. The wound throbbed and burned, his body tensed. She pressed her palm flat against it and, a minute later, the pain settled to a tingling sensation, then finally disappeared.

The woman removed her hand and Therrador replaced her touch with his own. The flesh felt tender and sore, but the wound was gone. He raised his right hand wrapped in the stinking bandage, hoping she would do the same for the wound beneath the gray cloth. She looked at it and shook her head, then stood, and Therrador saw her form was translucent.

“You have some time, but not much.”

The imprisoned king stared as she seemed to float across the cell toward the door, feet hidden beneath her long white gown. She didn’t pause when she reached the bars, but passed through and faded from sight like a morning mist burned away by midday sun.

A ghost?

Therrador touched the back of his hand to his forehead and found his fever had broken, disappeared along with the wound to his leg. Perhaps sickness and hallucination weren’t to blame. The king had never believed in apparitions, but neither did he believe in men brought back from the dead until they laid siege to the fortress. It had been a season of oddities: the king’s blood, undead soldiers, and now a spirit come to his aid.

Is this an opportunity to save my son, or is my mind finally snapping in two?

If the ghost’s words were true, he had little time to decide which was the case and how to best use it to his advantage.

He rose from the filthy straw, joints creaking with disuse, and brushed dirt from the seat of his breeches before taking an unsteady step toward the cell door. When his previously injured leg didn’t falter beneath him, he strode across the floor, energized by the ghostly woman’s water. He reached the bars and wrapped the fingers of his good hand around the cold steel, pulled his face close. A short way down the hall, his undead guard stood motionless, staring at the blank wall ahead, as always.

It didn’t see the woman.

“Guard,” he called, his voice strong and filled with the authority bred of years commanding men. “I need to see the Archon. Now.”

Author Bio:

Bruce Blake lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don't take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.

Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn't really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the "u" out of words like "colour" and "neighbour" than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l's). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE

KOBO / PAPER GOLD PUBLISHING / iTUNES

B&N / SCRIBD / AMAZON / GOODREADS

Heart of the King #3

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

KOBO / 24SYMBOLS / B&N

iTUNES / GOODREADS TBR

Blood of the King #1

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK / B&N

KOBO / iTUNES / SCRIBD / INKTERA

24SYMBOLS / GOODREADS TBR

Spirit of the King #2

AMAZON US / AMAZON UK

KOBO / 24SYMBOLS / B&N

iTUNES / GOODREADS TBR

Brought to you by:

Fallen Death by RB Austin

Title: Fallen Death

Author: RB Austin

Series: Trihune #3

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Release Date: July 13, 2016

Summary:

Hurt. Maim. Kill.

An explosive, volatile demon lives inside Sarid.

The monster seeks murder and destruction. The man seeks peace; or a silence that can only be found in death.

Until he meets her.

But his secret could ruin everything.

Trust her instincts.

Asjhone will do anything to keep her son safe. She conceals her terror during the day, but when the sun goes down, it’s locks, chains, and nightmares.

Until she meets him.

Sarid is everything she’s dreamed of. He adores her son, is kind, and would never hurt her.

But her secret could ruin everything.

Life is made up of choices.

Lose his life or lose his love? Run from her past or stand up and fight?

They must confront their pasts together, and fight for their future against a demon determined to win.

“Your turn, what do you do?” Asjhone said.

“I . . . work in security,” Sarid answered.

“Security? I thought you were a college professor or maybe worked at a museum.” At his puzzled expression, she continued. “The pastor said you were a historian.”

“Ah. Well, no. I’m not a teacher.”

“Security, huh?” She studied him.

Every spot her gaze touched, his body warmed. Face. Chest. Shoulders. Arms.

“I can see that. For a company?”

“A private company.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s what I’m good at.”

An eyebrow lifted. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”

His lips turned up at the corners before quickly falling. “My job gives me a sense of purpose. The sense that maybe I’m doing good in the world. Sometimes, also, a feeling that I am worthy.”

Her expression softened. She reached across the table, stopped inches from his hand. “Worthy of what?”

He wanted to close that distance. Mesmerized by her stare and closeness, he answered truthfully. “Life.”

She inhaled sharply and her gaze immediately swung to Keandre. Sarid’s did, too. Keandre was watching them, forehead scrunched.

Sarid’s hand tightened on the fork, so hard he felt it bend. He lowered his head and with careful movements, set the utensil on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Then her hand was covering his, squeezing gently. “No. It’s—”

“My dad was a Marine.”

Asjhone startled, then, “Keandre, interrupting is rude.”

“Sorry.” The boy’s gaze didn’t move from Sarid. “He won a medal. He died serving the country. He’s a hero. That’s what the medal says. Isn’t that right, Mom?”

“Keandre!” Asjhone whispered sharply. “Now isn’t the time.”

“Your dad sounded like a brave man,” Sarid said quietly.

Keandre stared at him with suspicion. “Do you like camping?”

“I used to sleep outside with the stars above as my nightlight.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “Without a tent?”

“Yes. Hunted for my own food, too. Cooked it over a fire.”

“Wow.” Then he snapped his mouth shut, narrowed his eyes. “What about basketball?”

“I play with my brothers sometimes.”

“I play with Devan. And sometimes Devan’s dad plays, too. Me and Devan team up against him. Last time we won.” He beamed.

“You must be a very good player.”

“I am.” Keandre scratched his chin, then, “I want a dog.”

“Dogs are loyal. I could never have a pet, but if I did I think I’d want a dog.”

“I know, me, too. I mean, I have fish.” He rolled his eyes. “But they don’t do anything. A dog can play fetch and run outside and sleep in your bed. Devan has a dog. It’s super cool. When he goes camping with his dad, they take the dog. His name’s Trevor. When I get a dog, I’m going to name him Ben.”

Sarid blinked. “Ben’s a good name for a dog.”

“Yeah, I think so, too. Mom says we can’t get a dog because we live in an apartment. But Devan has a dog and when he has to go outside, they just put him on a leash and walk him out. I’ve done that before with Devan. It’s not hard at all. I could totally do it. Don’t you think I could do it?”

Sarid glanced at Asjhone. A myriad of emotions flashed across her face. She either wanted to laugh, get angry, or cry. “How about we clear the table and then you can show me the hero super masher in your room?”

“Okay,” Keandre laughed. “But it’s Super Hero Masher.” He picked up his half-eaten pie and almost empty glass and ran into the kitchen.

What Others Are Saying:

A fantastic read By DMBaca

I loved this book. RB Austin is a master story teller. This story pulls you in and doesn't let go until the end. The characters are well developed and well written. I can't wait to read the others in the series by this author.

Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day? By Rebecca

Fallen Death is my favorite of the Fallen books by RB Austin....so far!

I love reading books involving inner conflict, strong characters, and good vs. evil. This story has all that and more.

Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day, let alone controlling it to keep innocent people safe? I'm not talking about a bully....this evil Other will literally rip a heart out and slice it up for dessert....women, children, co workers...no one is safe.

Sarid's soul is meshed together with this evil soul who surfaces like the Incredible Hulk. The Other speaks to Sarid and sometimes all hell breaks loose.

Asjhone's character is strong, silent about her past, and very protective of her son. She is unaware of the paranormal world she is about to be thrown into and huge, scaly, dragon-monsters are not nearly as scary as her estranged husband.

When I read Austin's first two books, I was really nervous when the characters I cared about stood even close Sarid...would he be in control or would the Other within him break free? To read a book from Sarid's perspective was amazing. I hated the demon, loved the demon, and now can't wait to see what Austin will write next.

I recommend Fallen Death to Paranormal-Suspense-Thriller readers who enjoy reading a bit of steamy romance. Nice combo!

Author Bio:

RB Austin enjoys torturing dogs (dressing her Cairn terrier in knitted sweaters and booties), embarrassing her daughter (singing in the car . . . at the top of her lungs . . . with the windows open . . . at a stop light), and indulging in the second deadliest sin (chocolate, Swedish fish, chocolate, sour patch watermelons, and chocolate).

This author’s love of the sun puts in her in the more-than-likely-not-a-vampire category, unless you’re referring to the bloodsuckers in her Trihune series, then all bets are off.

Feeling stalkerish? Visit her website, and learn where she hangs out on the Interwebs.