Friday, October 7, 2016

#Audiobook #Spotlight - Every Single Pat of You by @LSJRomance #gveaway

Every Single Part of You

Cinder, Book 1 Unchained Chaos Tour 

Written by London Saint James

Narrated by La Petite Mort and Ruby Rivers

Listening time: 7 hrs and 56 mins
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, M/F/M Ménage, Rockers
Please Note: This book contains mature themes, includes explicit language and sexual scenes.

Our choices are rarely cut and dry.

Sara: As the daughter of Senator and presidential hopeful Jentsen Holbrook, I spent a good deal of my life under public scrutiny. What I wore. Where I went. Who I dated. It was just the way of things. I’d become what was expected of me, until I ran from my obligations and woke up one morning in Cross de Raven’s and Eryk Hale’s world, two hot guitarists from the mega-famous metal band, Cinder. For the first time, freedom to be myself was within my reach. And along with that? Inevitable scandal.

Eryk: True beauty walked into my life, more beauty than I ever deserved. I partied hard. Rocked harder. I wasn’t good enough to touch Sara’s petal-soft skin, hold on tight, or love her, but regardless of my bad boy ways, no one was going to stop me from trying.

Cross: Sometimes, no matter how hard we fight for what we want, love won't save the day, and truth doesn't always set you free. Then again… Maybe, just maybe, when you find the one you’ve been searching for, love can find a way.


Enjoy listening to an audio sample



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      Holy cow. The energy swirling through the dimly lit Tacoma Dome was a living, pulsing entity unlike anything I’d experienced before. Twenty thousand-plus people packed the space, chanting, “Cinder! Cinder!” while holding lighters and cellphones in the air, so many it was as if millions of fireflies took flight.

Briar and I stood in the VIP section with our after party passes—the wide logoed bracelets on our wrists—completely surrounded by warm bodies. Our bellies were being pressed into the barrier separating us from the security personnel outlining the front of the stage. Cobalt blue laser lights danced and smoke rolled like fog, making the details of the stage hard to see, even from our close vantage point.

Leaning into me, Briar placed her forehead to mine and smiled wide. “Isn’t this fucking awesome?”

“It is,” I agreed.

“You two going to slip each other the tongue?” some guy hollered from behind us.

Briar turned, giving him her signature hip cock—are you serious?—lift of brow. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Hell yes.”

She flipped him a not so elegant bird. “Kiss this, asshat.”

“Bri,” I admonished, ready to throw myself in front of her if the guy went ballistic, but he laughed and turned his attention to the stage.

In front of us, shadows moved. The whine of a discordant guitar, followed by a “Ba-bump. Ba-bump,” reverberated from the domed ceiling.

“Oh my God!” Briar screeched in my ear as she latched on to my blouse, practically jumping in place, and almost removing the short, fluttery sleeve in the process. “This is it, babe.”

An unbelievably deep voice bellowed out a war cry that mixed into the sound of rumbling thunder and vibrated the floor beneath me.

Multiple LED screens lit up the entire backstage with a picture show of a churning fire, followed by devastating nuclear explosions. Along the side of the stage, real flames and sparks

shot into the air as a shirtless man, half-surrounded by a massive set of drums, lowered from above on a lit platform—muscled arms working, leg tapping.

The crowd went wild.

“That’s Sayer Adler,” Bri yelled near my ear. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

I looked at the man pounding out a wicked beat, and decided—with his mussed, dark hair with platinum blond tips, sporting long sideburns highlighting a strong jaw, and a sculpted upper body covered in colorful tattoos—he was striking.

A huge flash of light and perfectly timed kaboom went off, drawing my gaze. As the smoke cleared, another member of the band came into view. “That’s Kris Kline. The bassist,” my bestie informed. Then two more men, with fingers flying over their respective guitars appeared together, leaning back to back within their own light show. “The hottie with the mirrored sunglasses and black tour beanie on his head is Cross de Raven. He’s lead guitar. And the other, Mr. I’d-do-him-in-a-heartbeat, is Eryk Hale, rhythm guitarist.”

The two of them had this inexplicable sensuality about them in the way they swayed together, which pretty much kept my attention trained on them until the last guy rose up from an opening in the floor, reminiscent of a leather-clad gladiator stopping center stage, causing the two guitarists to break apart—one going left, the other right.

Beside me, Briar wolf-whistled.

“Shit, yeah! I love you, Fade,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Then my friend, never one to mince words, flashed sparkling eyes at me. “I so want to have that man’s baby!”

With a saucy wink, she returned her attention back to the action, threw her arm in the air, her fingers making devil horns, and started rocking her head, long hair swishing about her face.

The vocalist curled his ring-covered fingers around a freestanding microphone that looked like a burnt, twisted twig of a tree sprouting up in front of him, which he uprooted. I tried to soak in the experience as he did this combination of singing and screaming about annihilation. The lights, the sound, the penetrating vibrations, the feel of bodies in motion, and the way the members of Cinder worked every square inch of the stage was mesmerizing. I didn’t know much if anything about metal music, but it was clear they were talented.

Cross ground out an amazing sound on his guitar, palm sliding across the neck, fingers on the frets—his instrument dropping down between his muscular thighs as he lunged. Pure,

euphoric pleasure emanated from his handsome face, and a vivid image of him having hot, sweaty, sheet-clawing sex came to mind.

What in the heck is wrong with me?

I pushed the naughty thoughts aside and tore my gaze away from the guitar god, focusing on Eryk, only to find him making love to his guitar. Gah! I needed to get my mind out of the gutter.

Focus on something else.

I watched the drummer again. Slipped my attention to Fade. Moved my gaze over to the bassist. I also returned to watching Cross and Eryk. If they kept up their current high-powered pace of stomping, jumping, and leg lunges throughout the duration of the concert, they’d never need to darken a gym, because they were doing some killer cardio.

When the song ended, Fade bellowed, “How are you tonight, Tacoma?” in a gravelly voice.

The crowd went berserk.



I had the pleasure of being able to do an 'Author Chat' with the two people who made this audiobook happen and brought all my colorful characters to life; La Petite Mort & Ruby Rivers.

You can listen to that chat by clicking here.

Tell us about London

I love: Coca-Cola, anything chocolate, reading, writing, singing, dancing, movies, listening to thunder storms, watching it rain, the mountains, the ocean, orchids, great smiles, and guys with brooding eyes and great scowls. Oh. I should probably mention I write erotic romance (mostly) although I have one or two sweet romances bopping around out there in the great big world of published books.

If you want to know a little bit more about me, you can find me
on social media, you know, Facebook, Twitter and such.

Here’s a few of my stalking links:

Slip Between the Pages with London Newsletter:


Giveaway runs from 9/26/16 to 10/26/16

London will be giving away a $20 Amazon GC & a signed
paperback copy of Every Single Part of you to one lucky winner.
To be eligible to win, enter the Rafflecopter below.


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Wednesday, September 28, 2016

The Hotter the Love (HOT MODEL MINE) by @LeaBronsen @evernightpublishing #Newrelease


  After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea's sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons' girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea's young and very handsome fiancé... On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher's offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new "Cover Photo of the Year". Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?  



We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space. Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object. The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere. Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction. I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame. Jekaterina? My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated. Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery. I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them. He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again? I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet. She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove. Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked. He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid. I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?” “Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable. My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us? Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved. Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?” I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.” She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?” “At an author conference.” Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.” “Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it. “Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse? She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?” Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.  


Book trailer



Book links


About the other books in the series


The Perfect Shoot (book #1) When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits… Get The Perfect Shoot at    

Mine to Love (book #2) The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future? Get Mine to Love at  

About the author

Lea Bronsen I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to or meet me on: Website / Lea's Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon   

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

TOP 10 Authors by Kimberly Ann Miller, author of LOST REPUTATION @evernightteen @KimberlyAnnNJ #giveaway


1.      Jennifer Armentrout – especially the Lux 
and Covenant series

2.      Ann Rule – any of her true crime, 
but the Stranger Beside Me was amazing

3.      Veronica Rossi – loved Under the Never Sky series

4.      JR Ward – Black Dagger Brotherhood is a 
 great paranormal romance series

5.      Gena Showalter – Lords of the Underworld is 
one of my fave paranormal romances

6.      Neal Shusterman – The Unwind 
Dystology was fantastic

7.      Sarah Fine – Guards of the Shadowlands is 
one of my favorite series

8.      Elle Casey – the Rebel Wheels 
series is hysterical

9.      Marissa Meyer – The Lunar Chronicles are great

10.  Rachel Harris – The Fine Art of 
Pretending is my fave of hers

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Kimberly Ann Miller
Giveaway:  $10 Evernight Teen GC

Romance/Contemporary/Suspense/Young Adult
Evernight Teen Publishing/237 pages

Casey Hayes has a secret—she writes the conspiracy theory column for her high school newspaper. As the editor, she thrives on the thrill of uncovering the facts—until she gets tangled up in a scandal.

When she exposes a teacher’s shameful secret, threats start, demanding she stop spreading the vicious rumors. Casey blows it off and keeps on writing. Even sexy Victor Cruz, the hot senior with the adorable accent who chases after Casey and tries to protect her, fails to convince her to keep her mouth shut. But things only get worse as she ignores the warnings, and soon, Casey must decide if exposing the truth is more important to her than her life.

Buy Links:   Evernight Teen    Amazon    ARe 

I laughed at the memory as I locked up the newsroom and rushed to my next class. I still had a smile on my face as I plopped down on my seat in the back row of calculus. Victor Cruz, my secret crush, entered the room. My pulse reacted to his presence, but, thank God, no other part of me did that he could see. I didn’t want to be lusting after anyone this year because I was planning on working hard toward my college goals and didn’t need the distraction.
The worst thing was, Charli told me he gave his ex-girlfriend some rash because he cheated on her. I so did not do the sexually transmitted diseases thing, and I definitely had zerorespect for cheaters. Not even for a hunk like him, who obviously screwed around and didn’t care if he got girls sick.
But damn, did this guy make my insides quiver. He was totally hot. His parents moved to New Jersey from Spain during middle school when Vic was scrawny and didn’t speak much English. When senior year started a month ago, no one recognized him because he’d grown ten inches, gained fifty pounds—of muscle—and must have taken some classes in style because, damn, the boy knew how to dress to show off his build.
Loose jeans with a belt, black boots, and a black, long-sleeved tee only made him sexier. And the way he walked? It should’ve been a crime. He had a swagger about him that rivaled any of the good old boys of Hollywood. Watching it made me quiver in places I didn’t know could quiver.
But it wasn’t just his looks that held me captive. He had the values of an old-fashioned guy—holding the door open for girls, helping them with heavy stuff, defending them when guys were too rough or mean.
If it wasn’t for that wild partying side of him … sigh.
As he approached his seat, I couldn’t help but stare at his thighs, mesmerized by the fluid sway they made with each step.
He caught me staring and raised a thick black brow. I diverted my eyes and pretended to be very interested in the junior’s notebook next to me. But I didn’t even know his name. Ugh.
Vic slid into his seat next to me and winked at the girls that were staring at him.
They always stared at him.
I rolled my eyes. But when I felt his eyes on me, I shifted in my seat, fighting the funny tingle in my stomach that came from looking at him.
The other problem was, besides being a distraction, Vic knew how sexy he’d become. He acted so cocky and confident, I wanted to smack the grin off his face and remind him that not long ago, he could have passed for a ten-year-old boy who couldn’t speak English or speak to girls.
But, whatever. He had a harem now, so good for him. And shiny black hair, smooth, bronze skin, and deep brown eyes that … never mind. Didn’t matter anyway.
Kylie sauntered over to him, swaying her hips so hard, I wondered how they didn’t dislocate. She leaned over his back and wrapped her arms around his ample shoulders, pressing her boobs into his back. I’m sure he loved that. “Hey, Vic. Busy this weekend? My parents are out of town, and we can go riding if you want. I’ll pack us a lunch.” She ran her fingernails over his chest as she spoke, clearly enjoying the feel of him.
He pulled her fingers off him and slipped out of her grasp. “Sorry, I’m busy, but thanks for asking.”
She leaned into him again, making sure to press her boobs into his neck. I rolled my eyes so hard, they almost didn’t return to face front. That would suck. What would I tell the nurse? I was looking at my brain instead of in front of me and I needed an eye adjustment?
“Maybe another time, okay?”
Vic nodded once. “Si.”
I pulled out my phone to check messages, done with listening to the vixen and her attempts at charming the hottest guy in school.
“Hey, Casey,” he said in his sexy Spanish accent. He had this way of dragging out the end of my name, making it sound like Kay Seee.
It was both unsettling and adorable, so I just grunted at him. How else could I get anything done with him around?

About the Author:
Kimberly Ann Miller received Bachelor's degrees from Georgian Court University and Rutgers University and a Master's degree from The University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey.  She is an avid reader and particularly enjoys true crime and young adult novels.  She grew up in New Jersey and currently resides in Monmouth County with her husband and cats. When she’s not writing, she loves to travel to sunny islands where she snorkels by day and stargazes by night. She always takes her Nook with her.

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