Sunday, November 24, 2013

The Replacement by Rachael Wade trailer reveal

The Replacement by Rachael Wade
Publication date: January 27th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult

*Contains sexually explicit content and mature subject matter, including language and elements of abuse.*

A gritty New Adult drama about a young woman’s self-destructive quest to find purpose, self-worth, and love in a broken world.

My name is Elise Duchamp. I’m twenty-three years old and I’m known as the town whore.

No, not the kind who exchanges sexual favors for money. The other kind. The kind who gives it all away for free, whenever and however she likes. I am that girl. The one everyone whispers about and the one none of the girls seem to like, because all of their boyfriends either want to sleep with me or already have. Promiscuity is my thing—the kind that slowly, violently turns my insides black, but gives me something I need.

All things considered, I’m not completely reckless. I’m safe, and contrary to popular opinion, I do have a heart. I live in a world of careless choices, and with those choices come careless people. I cannot judge them, because I am one of them. I too bow down to the altar of the self-serving. I am not a good friend. I am not and never could be anyone’s girlfriend. I’m convinced any goodness in me shriveled up and died long ago.

But I am a replacement. That is something I know how to be, and this is a story of the lengths I’d go to in order to keep it that way.

Rachael Wade is the Amazon bestselling author of The Preservation Series, The Resistance Trilogy, and the upcoming sci-fi series, The Keepers Trilogy. When she’s not writing, she’s busy learning French, watching too many movies, and learning how to protect animals and the environment. Visit her at and, or come chat with her on Twitter via @RachaelWade.

Author links:

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Animals Talking in All Caps by Justin Valmassoi

A goat who wants to sell you some meth. 
A giraffe who might be violating his restraining order. 
An alpaca with a very dirty secret. 
A cat who’s really mad at you for cancelling Netflix instant. 
These are just a few of the hilariously human animals you’ll meet inAnimals Talking in All Caps. Inspired by the wildly popular blog of the same name and including some of the site’s best-loved entries as well as gobs of never-before-seen material, these pages provide a brilliantly unhinged glimpse into the animal mind.

My Thoughts:

Animals Talking in All Caps is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a bunch of animal memes. The memes have cute or funny pictures of animals with captions underneath them. From the introduction, I knew that Animals Talking in All Caps was going to be a hit. During the introduction, Justin Valmassoi had me laughing several times. I was impressed considering I hadn’t even gotten to the animals yet. Not all of the animal pictures made me laugh. In fact, a few of the jokes definitely went over my head. They left me more confused than anything else. However, a majority of the jokes made me laugh. I was laying in bed reading the book, and I kept annoying my husband by laughing so hard and wanting to show him the pictures. He ended up getting a few chuckles out of it as well. The only thing that bothered him was that the last ten percent of the book was acknowledgements. I think Animals Talking in All Caps is a must have book for a bad day. It definitely works to cheer the reader up. It also makes a great coffee table book, and is a wonderful conversation starter. 

I give Animals Talking in All Caps: 4/5.

Want to know more about the author?

I received this book from the publisher via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review. I was in no way compensated for this review.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Beyond Doubt by Karice Bolton cover reveal

Brandy Rhodes is about to enter law school and everything is going according to plan.
Until she meets him—the one man in the universe who’s off limits—her best friend’s brother, Aaron.
Brandy knows enough to stay away from him, but as the pull becomes impossible to ignore, secrets and lies become part of Brandy’s way of life. And she kind of likes it.
Aaron Sullivan has never been one to believe in love. His motto is quantity over quality and that has suited him quite well. After all, love is an illusion and romance is another way to manipulate females into bed.
Until he met her—the one woman in the universe who calls his bluff and shows what love can be.
But as their love grows, Aaron’s past begins to haunt his future, and right when she needs him the most, he makes a decision that will shatter her world.
And she just may not survive.

Karice Bolton lives in the Pacific Northwest and is a writer of Young Adult and New Adult books. She loves to read anything and everything. She also enjoys baking, skiing, and spending time with her wonderful husband and two English bulldogs.
Books currently available:
*Beyond Love Series: Beyond Control (Book 1)
*The Camp
*The Witch Avenue Series: Lonely Souls (Book 1), Altered Souls (Book 2), Released Souls (Book 3) Shattered Souls (Book 4)
*The Watchers Trilogy: Awakening (Book 1), Legions (Book 2), Cataclysm (Book 3), Taken Novella (Watchers Prequel)
Karice would love if you stopped by her blog or FB page to find out the latest news on giveaways and upcoming releases, or you can just send her an email. She loves hearing from her readers and responds as soon as she can.

Something Great by M. Clarke book blast

She didn’t know what she was missing…until he found her.

Maxwell Knight was positively trouble, dangerously good-looking, and seductively charming. He was everything Jeanella didn’t need in her life. Only Maxwell didn’t see it that way. His pursuit was relentless, making her even more determined to push him away.

Fresh out of college, life was simple and plain for Jeanella Mefferd. Every part of her life was smooth sailing; her friends, her job, and even the guy she’d started dating. Then one night, while at dinner, she spotted someone who made her feel things she’d never felt before—dangerous, heart pounding and breathless heat. Thinking she would never see him again, she brushed it off, but when she started to run into him unexpectedly, all she could think of was how he made her feel with his sweet flirtations. Everything about Maxwell Knight screamed trouble, especially when she found out he was her new boss’s son. Now, heading to a New York fashion show, would she be able to focus on her career instead of Maxwell, who had been scheduled to attend with her? As much as she tried to forget their encounters, his good looks, smooth words and determination to win her over gravitated her toward him. The next thing she knew, her mind was utterly consumed by him. Would she be willing to ignore all the dangerous signs and jump into his arms? Or would she miss out on the chance of finding something great?

Book Trailer:

M. Clarke also known as Mary Ting resides in Southern California with her husband and two children. She enjoys oil painting and making jewelry. Writing her first novel, Crossroads Saga, happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother, and inspired by a dream she once had as a young girl. When she started reading new adult novels, she fell in love with the genre. It was the reason she had to write one-Something Great. Why the pen name, M Clarke? She tours with Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book-No Bullies Allowed.

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Tuesday, November 12, 2013

M. Leighton's All The Pretty Lies Release Day Launch

ALL THE PRETTY LIES by M. Leighton is Here!!!! That's right! The newest novel from M. Leighton is out and you can get your copy today!  Check out the stunning cover and then look below to read all about the title and M. Leighton! There's an excerpt for you and a phenomenal giveaway that you don't want to miss at the bottom!

Isn't that cover gorgeous?!? ALL THE PRETTY LIES is a New Adult Contemporary Romance filled with heat, lies, and romance. And it's out today!


I take another step toward him, building up the nerve to just do it, just kiss him.  But Hemi surprises me when he takes the step that will bring us near enough to touch.

He’s so close, my chest almost brushes his every time I inhale. I sway toward him the tiniest bit, craving the contact.  With him.  A perfect stranger.

“Sloane,” he whispers, the sound of my name on his lips bringing chills to my arms again.  He reaches out to push my hair back over my shoulder.  His fingertips linger on the skin of my neck before they fall away.

“Hemi,” I sigh, melting into the heat of his eyes.  I knew there was something between us. Well, I’d hoped. Hoped I wasn’t imagining it. But now I know I wasn’t.  It’s there, staring out at me from behind his hooded midnight eyes. Blatant and unabashed, he wants me.  And I want him, too.

“You need to walk out that door and never come back.”

My heart stops.  Of all the things I thought he might say, this came out of nowhere.  “What?” I ask in a small, uncertain voice.

“You need to leave.  And don’t look back.”

I scramble to recover.  “But…but what about the rest of my tattoo?”

“I’m not talking about your tattoo and you know it.”

“Then what are you talking about?” I inquire, playing dumb to save what’s left of my crumbling pride.

“I’m talking about you.  And me.  This. Us.”

“There is no us.”

“There will be in about thirty seconds if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

“What if I don’t want to leave?” I’m confused. Is he saying that he wants me?  Or that he wants me to go?

“I’m not asking.”


“Why what?”

“Why do you want me to go?”

“Because guys like me change girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Innocent girls.”

“What if I’m not that innocent?”

His lips quirk in a wry grin.  “Oh, you’re exactly that innocent.  I can practically smell it on you. Sweet, pure, untouched.  And, if I’m being honest, I’d like nothing better than to taste that on the tip of my tongue.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

I watch him wrestle with…something.  “I don’t have the time or the inclination to get involved in ruining someone else’s life.”

“What makes you think you’d ruin my life?”

“Oh, trust me.  I would.”


“But nothing.  For tonight, I’ll be the good guy you need me to be.  Whether you know you need it or not. I’m asking you to leave, Sloane.  But I promise you—promise you—that if you so much as darken my doorway again, I won’t let you walk back out again.”

I’m torn between heady elation and harsh rejection.  “Hemi—”

“Go, little girl,” he says softly.  “Go before I change my mind.” 


All the Pretty Lies
“Live, no regrets”

Sloane Locke has led a sheltered life.  However, with a history like hers, she can understand why her brothers and her father want so much to protect her.  She has gone along with it for twenty long years, but those days are over.  For the girl who never makes promises, Sloane has made a pact with herself that things will change on her twenty-first birthday.  So when the clock strikes midnight, Sloane strikes out to spread her wings and break a few rules.

In addition to inking skin, Hemi Spencer possesses many talents. Controlling himself has never been one of them.  It’s never had to be.  He’s lived a life of indulgence for as long as he can remember.  Right up until tragedy struck.  Now, he’s nothing but controlled. He’s a man on a mission, one who will let nothing and no one stand in his way. 

Nothing in their lives could’ve prepared Sloane and Hemi for what they’d find in each other—distraction and obsession, love and possession.  But the one thing they can’t find is a future.  Neither one has been totally honest.  And they’ll soon learn that the devil is in the details.  In the details and in the lies.

How far will two people go to live in the now when the now is all they’ve got?

M. Leighton is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Wild Ones and The Bad Boys romance trilogies.  She is a native of Ohio, relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she lets her mind wander to romantic settings with sexy Southern guys much like the one she married and the ones you'll find in her latest books.  When her thoughts aren't roaming in that direction, she'll be riding horses, swimming in ponds and experiencing life on a ranch, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office.  

For more about M. Leighton, visit her website at or follow her on Twitter@mleightonbooks.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Strip Me Bare blog tour

Title: Strip Me Bare
Author: Marissa Carmel
Release Day: October 10, 2013
Genre: New Adult
Tour Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Book Description:

“I may have had more lovers than you, and I may take my clothes off for countless women, but you are the only one who can strip me bare.” 

Do you ever stop loving someone just because they’re gone? 
Five years ago Ryan Pierce disappeared from Alana Remington’s life without leaving so much as a post-it note behind. He was the one she gave her heart to, her soul to and her virginity to. So imagine her surprise when she finds him dancing at one of NYC’s hottest male reviews as Jack the Stripper. 
Ryan never stopped loving Alana, and now that she serendipitously dropped back into his life, he’s vowed never to lose her again. But being together has its costs, and challenges Alana isn’t sure she can handle. She finally has Ryan back; but how in the world is she supposed to share the love of her life with half of the women in New York City?

Author Bio:
Marissa Carmel has been writing since a young age and although it has always been for personal enjoyment, she finally decided breakout and share her imagination with the world. She hopes that her universe is as fun and intriguing to her readers as it is to her. Marissa Carmel is originally from NJ but moved to Maryland several years ago, she enjoys reading, writing, and catching up on her ever growing DVR library. She is currently working on the sequel to iFeel, Gravitational Pull and the third and final installment of the Vis Vires trilogy, Constellation.


Chapter One:

You Don’t Know Jack

Pink plastic penises.  
That’s what’s bouncing around like two alien antennas on top of my cousin Emily’s head. Two, pink, rubbery penises attached to a cheap headband. 
I don’t know how people celebrate bachelorette parties in other parts of the world, but in the North East they dress the bride-to-be in sashes and tiaras, force them to wear pink penis paraphernalia and sacrifice them to male exotic dancers. Emily doesn’t seem to mind though. She’s sipping champagne happily in the back of an Escalade stretch limo as we drive through New York City. 
“Alana,” says Jill, Emily’s maid of honor whose personality is just as fiery as her red hair, “we were taking bets as to whether you were going to come or not.” 
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask curiously. 
“I don’t know?” she holds her hands up like she’s balancing a pair of scales. “Cutting a year long trip to Europe short or staying and hanging out with all those hotties on the French Riviera?”
“Sun and Speedos get old after a while,” I joke. 
“Well maybe some American Speedos will revive your interest?” 
“I doubt it.” 
“Is the straight-laced Alana Remington too prim and proper for a male strip show?” Jill digs.
“She’s only prim and proper on the outside,” Emily jumps in, defending me. 
Thanks Em, but I can take care of myself.
“Why would you say that? I’m here aren’t I?” I interject. “I’m just not partial to tiny male underwear. And I think the politically correct term is Male Revue.” 
“Whatever,” Jill laughs at me. “This is the perfect night to let your hair down and get a little action between your legs.” 
“Jill!” Emily chastises. “They don’t sleep with you.” 
“I’m sure if you paid them enough they would.” 
“You’re so crude,” Emily says. 
“I’m just real. And I’m pretty sure all they’d have to do is take one look at Alana’s blonde hair, brown eyes and long legs and they’d pay to sleep with her.”
“Well just don’t let my father find out if that happens,” I say dryly. “I don’t think he’d respond well to me pimping myself out.” 
“I have a feeling you don’t need monetary transactions for sex,” Jill pours herself a glass of champagne as we haul down 5th Avenue. 
I glance at Emily and she gives me a sympathetic look. 
“Where did you tell him we were going tonight anyway?” Emily giggles, her bright blue eyes sparkling, her long dark hair pouring over her shoulders. She’s five foot two and one hundred pounds soaking wet, but she has the persona of a supermodel; beautiful, confident, sexy, fun. 
“I told him we were having an early dinner, then seeing a Broadway show. I almost choked on my granola when he asked me which one. Most of the time, he barely recognizes I’m alive, but of course the one time I’m not prepared with a cover story, he catches me,” I shift around in the cream leather seat, trying pull down the clingy hem of my gold pleated tube dress without much success; if I’m not careful I’m going to end up giving everyone a pre-show. 
“So a male strip club would have been a no-go with him, huh?” Jill asks sarcastically. 
“Like I need to answer that.” 
I’ve known Jill most of my life and she’s fully aware of my family situation; my father, the strict, detached man who has stern expectations of his daughter, which includes an impeccable social image. Me, going to a male strip club? No-go is a drastic understatement, and she knows it.  
“My uncle has very firm views about how his daughter should act,” Emily says annoyed. “What she should wear, who she should date, how she should breathe. And he’s colder than damn ice. I swear I don’t know how our fathers share the same DNA.” Both our fathers are prestigious figures in the law community. Mine is a superior court judge in New Jersey while Emily’s is a big shot lawyer in New York City. They both have a reputation to uphold, but my uncle John is very personable and laid back and he and Emily have a great relationship. My father is the exact opposite; stringent, disconnected, career driven. I don’t even think he has emotions. And we have no relationship. 
“So no little lost strippers following you home then?” 
“Jill,” I roll my eyes. 
“Not unless they have a seven figure paycheck and republicans as parents,” Emily adds wryly.
Everyone in the limo looks at me and I’m not exactly sure what they’re thinking; it’s probably a toss-up. They either feel incredibly sorry for me or think I’m some tight ass who’s going to ruin the fun. If they take one look at my dress they should know it’s not the latter. 
As we drive through Times Square, the lights on the billboards are flashing and droves of people are walking. The city is always so alive, bustling, moving, churning. I love it here. And I’ll love it even more when I live here. I start law school in three months, and I can’t wait.  
It’s nearly eight o’clock when the limo pulls up to Culture, the only all male ladies club in the world. At least, that’s what the website boasts. Already, the line is around the corner with eager women waiting to get in. All six of us step out of the limo into the New York air. Along with Emily, Jill and I, there’s Beth and Liz the groom’s two sisters and one of Emily’s roommates from college, Jen. The smell of hot dogs and pretzels drift in the breeze from the street vendors as we make our way up the sidewalk. There’s a secondary entrance that has a street sign with several shirtless men that reads ‘Male Revue’, and when I look closer I catch some fine print scribbled on the bottom that says ‘lip smackin’ dick’.
Oh man, maybe I am too straight laced for this. 
Emily nudges me as we wait in line for the doors to open. “Sorry about Jill,” she whispers. 
“Why are you apologizing? She’s right,” I cross my arms. “I do need some action between my legs, I just have to build up enough nerve to actually let someone in.” 
“That’s not the only place you need to let someone in.”
I bristle, “Em, I don’t want to dwell on my past. At least not tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” she concedes, the penises bobbling on her head. 
“Are you going to wear those things all night?” I ask incredulously. 
“No, I’m just going to wait until Jill is drunk enough not to notice I took them off.” 
“Well,  you shouldn’t be wearing them for too long then.” 
Emily nods zealously in agreement. I think she likes the shock value of her headband a little too much.
It’s early May, so the temperature in the city is comfortable. No one needs jackets or scarfs or pants, and I think even underwear is optional. As the line behind us grows rapidly the bouncer finally gives the okay to go inside. I’m bouncing in my shoes trying to muster enough nerve to actually walk through the door. I’m a little out of my element here. We file in one behind the other, all walking carefully down the dark stairwell in our designer heels, making our way into the club’s private room.. 
The room is dark but not cold; there are black leather couches and coffee tables spread out in front of a small stage that’s maybe a foot off the ground. Very intimate, very close and very personal. We all sit down on an L-shaped sofa to the right of the stage, and a few moments later someone is popping open a bottle of champagne and handing out plastic cups with pink bubbly liquid in it. I’m suddenly all nerves as the realization of what’s about to happen kicks in. I gulp the champagne; I don’t think I am going to like this one bit. I glance around anxiously at all the excited women in the room. A few have sashes or tiaras that say bachelorette or birthday girl. Emily fits right in with her headband. She seems relaxed; I think I’d be hyperventilating knowing some guy is going be grinding all over me in a few minutes.  
I take another sip of champagne.  
I watch the bartenders as they mix drinks behind the bar, hear the muted conversations of the girls around me and feel the temperature rise as the room fills to capacity.  
What the hell am I doing? Just before I get up to go get some air, a smooth male voice washes over the crowd. “Ladies, ladies, ladies,” the MC announces. Shit. He’s short, with caramel colored skin and big green eyes; very handsome and very charismatic. He introduces himself as Hugo, walking back and forth across the stage like he owns it. He tells a few dirty jokes to warm up the crowd, some of the women firing back fueling his raunchy lip service.  “Okay my fine females, this is what’s going to happen,” he says with a tantalizing edge to his tone. “There will a group performance and then private dances, and then one on one time, where,” he smiles wickedly, “you get to mingle with all the fellas.” 
I really think I need a cigarette.  
Hugo tosses the mic to someone on the side of the stage then disappears behind a door to the left that’s barely noticeable. It’s been painted black to blend in with the wall. The DJ pumps a hard core club mix of Rihanna’s Rude Boy, while smoke blows over us from different corners of the room, it’s cold and smells bitter. Then that little back door swings open and four men with no shirts, ripped bodies, and black tuxedo pants file out, bumping to the music. The room goes absolutely berserk. Women start screaming, bouncing up and down and waiving dollar bills over their heads as the four guys bump and grind and hump around the stage in a sexed up routine. They’re hot, there’s no denying it, but I can’t help but wonder how anyone can do this? Don’t they feel like a slab of raw meat?  
When the Chippendales’ demonstration is done, the dancers disappear into the camouflaged door, leaving the crowd hot and bothered and apparently ready for more. The lady sitting in front of us is actually panting. Really?
I glance at Emily as Hugo reappears. It looks like she’s really getting into this, which I’m silently thankful for. Emily’s not a prude by any means, but I think even this could definitely push her limits. It’s certainly pushing mine, and I’m just watching.  
Hugo calls the first bachelorette onto the stage. Lila, I think her name is. She’s a cute young girl, almost innocent looking. She’s wearing a tiara and a pink sash that says bachelorette. Her fake blond hair is loose with curls and she has on a white button up shirt and jeans. Not very club couture, but whatever. Her entire party is called up on stage with her, and Hugo instructs them to decorate her body with dollar bills. The group sticks money where ever they can, in her pants pockets, between the buttons of her shirt, in her collar and under her sash; she looks a walking ATM by the time they’re done. Then Lila sits down on a folding chair on stage. The DJ hits the music again, a fast version of Sean Paul’s Temperature pumps through the speakers as a guy dressed in a cop’s uniform explodes onto the stage, all high energy and sexual, popping his body as he jumps right in front of the Lila. He looks legit in his navy blue uniform, aviator sunglasses and officers cap. Sergeant Striptease wastes no time working it; he gets right in Lila’s face, bumping his junk to the rhythm of the music.   
I can’t believe I’m watching this, I think as I down more champagne.
He rips his shirt off displaying his defined chest and six pack abs, then he straddles Lila with his face towards the crowd, taking her hands he runs them down his front, over his pecs, stomach and hips. His skin glistens under the stage lights.   
I’m not really sure what’s more shocking, the stage show or the reaction it’s getting. Women are bouncing exuberantly on the leather seats, shrieking and clapping almost like a bomb went off.   
Sergeant Striptease then stands Lila up and rubs himself all over her; moving up and down against her body, grabbing the dollar bills out of her shirt with his teeth. Lila laughs nervously as she holds on to him by his very nice shoulders. Very, nice shoulders. Then he does something that takes everyone, especially Lila, by surprise. He grabs her waist and flips her upside down, her crotch ending up right in his face. He slashes his tongue between her legs, causing most of the women in the room to scream.
Like, bloodcurdling screams.
I’m not even capable of an auditory response; my vocal cords have shorted out and my jaw has dropped to the floor.  
Then he puts her down and whispers in her ear, she nods back at him with a smile; her eyes wide and alight. He sits her back down in the chair and proceeds to take off the rest of his clothes, which is actually just a quick tug of his pants. All he has on underneath is a black g-string with, holy shit, tassels covering his penis. Where do you even find a get up like that? He does one more bump and grind on Lila, practically naked, and then the show is over.  
Emily looks over at me. Her eyebrows lifted high like she can’t believe what she just witnessed.  
“Yeah girl, that’s all you,” I yell to her over the music and she laughs.  
I wonder how much laughing she’s going to do when it’s her on that stage?  
Hugo reappears, announcing the next girl, Holly, and she looks absolutely petrified. She too, has blonde hair, but I think it’s natural; no dark roots. She’s wearing a white eyelet dress and fresh faced makeup. She looks almost virginal and I feel sorry for her already.  
Holly sits in the folding chair, wound tighter than a spring and littered with dollar bills all over her body. I couldn’t do it. I could never sit up there and have some guy I don’t know hump all over me. It would just feel wrong. For me. I admire the other women in the room who are rearing to go. Maybe I am a prude?  
The lights dim as Holly sits alone on the stage, but no one comes out the camouflaged door. There’s low haunting music playing and smoke curling up from the floor. Then I notice Holly’s face. She’s gone pale. Everyone turns around to see what she’s looking at. And there, sauntering toward the stage is a guy dressed in black leather pants and a mask covering his whole head, a whip in his hand. 
Holy BDSM.   
“Ladies, the Dominator,” Hugo announces and Holly absolutely shits. I can’t say I blame her. All I want to do is run up there and rescue her.  
The Dominator gets onto the stage and starts doing a seductive dance over Holly, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back as he straddles her with his mask on.  
My mind goes numb as I watch; it feels like an out of body experience it’s so far out of my sexual scope of understanding. The Dominator then pulls Holly to her feet, bends her over and starts smacking her ass, hard. Then he mercilessly pumps her from behind and I have to look away.  
I think I’m scarred for life.   
After that he sits her back down in the chair. It looks like she’s just smoked up, she’s so starry eyed. Then he rips off his mask and starts again with the intense humping; his crotch right in her face. Good lord.  
He’s not bad looking with his bald head, big light eyes and a really nice smile. Like, really nice. Almost endearing, which is weird.  
Then he does something that actually impresses me. Somehow, he gets his feet over her head, planting them against the back wall of the stage, his ass facing the crowd and humps her from upside down. For a guy who’s tall, bulky and muscled, he’s limber, I’ll give him that. Then he kicks himself down and pulls Holly to her feet. He picks out all the dollar bills with his teeth, and then plants a huge kiss on her cheek. She was a damn good sport. I would have bolted the moment I saw him walking my way. Given you could actually pay me enough to get up on that stage in the first place.  
Now it’s Emily’s turn.  
“Okay ladies,” the charming Hugo announces. “You’re in for a real treat,” he says as Jill, Beth, Liz, Jen and I dress Emily in dollar bills. She’s by far sexiest and most trendily dressed girl in the room. She has on a tight black body suit that’s short sleeved and high collared. A flared mini skirt and a pair of black stockings that give the illusion of thigh highs; hooch couture is what I call it. With her tiny little frame she rocks the outfit perfectly. We were able to get twice as many dollar bills on Emily compared to the other girls. Even her black bootie high heels have Washington’s sticking out of them. She looks like a scarecrow stuffed with green straw. 
“Next up is one of our premier dancers. So get ready, set, wet for Jack the Stripper!” he says as he hops off the stage.
The beginning beats of Ginuwine’s Pony blasts through the speakers as a shirtless guy with a cowboy hat and eye mask grooves his way out of the black door. Now him I could be into. He’s tall and lean, totally toned, with sun kissed skin and a hot looking mouth. Emily got lucky with this one, thank God. I watch as he dances to the stage in a pair of loose fitting blue jeans with rips in the thighs and knees, the elastic of his underwear peeking above the waist of his pants. As soon as Emily sees him, a big smile spreads across her face and I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s into him. And seriously, who wouldn’t be? 
The melody changes to a house rendition of As Long As You Love Me and Jack the Stripper moves seductively to the beat of the music, grinding sensually on Emily; his fluid body undulating all over her. I’ll admit, I’ve never equated Justin Bieber to stripper music, but this guy makes it work, and damn can he move. My mouth is getting dry just watching this. The entire room is responding to him; pleasured screams and erotic moans are echoing from every which way as he works Emily on stage. No wonder Hugo called him premier; it’s as if he knows exactly what a woman wants and exactly how to give it to her. He’s already broken down the entire room with just his confidence and sexuality. That’s impressive.   
In the middle of his dance, with his hat and eye mask still on, he lifts Emily’s chair, with her still in it, and flips her up and around, inducing screams and shouts from the audience. With a big smile he places her back down, and then starts to undo his pants, teasing her and us with glimpses of his ass. Before he drops his jeans he rips off his hat and flings it into the crowd revealing thick, brown hair that’s short on the sides and longer on top; his bangs spilling over his forehead hipster style. Hot. Then he kneels in front of Emily, only his side profile visible. He whispers something into her ear, she glances at him oddly then slides two fingers under his eye mask; she rips it off and turns white. I can’t really see his face from my angle, but whoever he is, he spooked her. They both seem to freeze for a fraction of a second; his back muscles tensing. What the hell is going on? Then she nods her head yes, as if encouraging him on. He stands up, faces the crowed and proceeds to take off his pants. That’s when my heart drops dead in my chest. I glance at Emily and she’s staring straight at me, a manifold of emotions churning on her face because we both just witnessed my past strip to life. 

Four Seconds to Lose release day launch


Owning a strip club isn’t the fantasy most guys expect it to be. With long hours, a staff with enough issues to keep a psych ward in business, and the police regularly on his case, twenty-nine year old Cain is starting to second guess his unspoken mission to save the women he employs. And then blond, brown-eyed Charlie Rourke walks through his door, and things get really complicated. Cain abides by a strict “no sleeping with the staff” rule. But being around Charlie challenges Cain’s self-control…and it’s been a long time since any woman has done that.

Twenty-two-year old Charlie Rourke needs a lot of money, really fast, in order to vanish before it’s too late. Taking her clothes off for men makes her stomach curl but Charlie tells herself that at least she’s putting her acting and dancing skills to good use. And though her fellow dancers seem eager to nab their sexy, sophisticated, and genuinely caring boss, she’s not interested. After all, Charlie Rourke doesn’t really exist—and the girl pretending to be her doesn’t need to complicate her life with romance.

Unfortunately, Charlie soon discovers that developing feelings for Cain is inevitable, that those feelings may not be unrequited—but losing him when he finds out what she’s involved with will be more painful than any other sentence awaiting her.

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Born in small-town Ontario, Kathleen published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader and the farthest thing from a genre-snob, loving everything from High Fantasy to Chick Lit. Kathleen currently resides in a quaint small town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.


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