Review: A Wish For Us by Tillie Cole

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the author who brought you A Thousand Boy Kisses comes the new emotional novel, A Wish For Us.
A story of music. A story of healing. A story of love conquering all.




Nineteen-year-old Cromwell Dean is the rising star of electronic dance music. Thousands of people adore him. But no one knows him. No one sees the color of his heart.

Until the girl in the purple dress. She sees through the walls he has built to the empty darkness within.

When Cromwell leaves behind the gray skies of England to study music in the South Carolina heat, the last thing he expects is to see her again. And he certainly doesn’t expect that she’ll stay in his head like a song on repeat.

Bonnie Farraday lives for music. She lets every note into her heart, and she doesn’t understand how someone as talented as Cromwell can avoid doing the same. He’s hiding from his past, and she knows it. She tries to stay away from him, but something keeps calling her back.

Bonnie is the burst of color in Cromwell’s darkness. He’s the beat that makes her heart skip.

But when a shadow falls over Bonnie, it’s up to Cromwell to be her light, in the only way he knows how. He must help her find the lost song in her fragile heart. He must keep her strong with a symphony only he can compose.

A symphony of hope.
A symphony of love.
A symphony of them.

REVIEW

 

 

5 gorgeous, emotional stars!! This was one of the very best heartbreakingly beautiful books I’ve ever read… How do you even begin to review a book like this without giving anything away! This story had everything for me, it was so well written the characters were easy to relate to and the issues & subject matter was dealt with in a very sensitive yet raw way… you felt every emotion as it seeped through the pages of the book!! This story will stay with me forever it is burned into my heart and I will be forever grateful to Tillie for sharing Cromwell and Bonnie’s story with the world xx

Reviewed by Nat

 

 

I let the rush of nicotine fill my lungs and closed my eyes. As my eyelids shut, I heard quiet music playing somewhere nearby. Classical. Mozart. My drunken mind immediately drifted off to when I was a little kid . . . “What do you hear, Cromwell?” my father asked. I closed my eyes and listened to the piece of music. Colors danced before my eyes. “Piano. Violins. Cellos . . .” I took a deep breath. “I can hear reds and greens and pinks.” I opened my eyes and looked up at my father as he sat on my bed. He was staring down at me. There was a funny expression on his face. “You hear colors?” he said. But he didn’t sound surprised. My face set on fire. I ducked my head under my duvet. My father pulled it down from my eyes. He stroked my hair. “That’s good,” he said, his voice kind of deep. “That’s very good . . .” My eyes snapped open. My hand started to ache. I looked at the bottle in my hand; my fingers were white as they gripped the neck. I sat up, my head spinning from the mass of whiskey in my body. My temples throbbed. I realized it wasn’t from the Jack, but from the music coming from further down the beach. I pushed my hair back from my face then looked to my right. Someone was only a few feet away. I squinted into the lightening night, summer’s early rising sun making it possible to make out the features of whoever the hell it was. It was a girl. A girl wrapped in a blanket. Her phone sat beside her, a Mozart piano concerto drifting quietly from the speaker. She must have felt me looking at her, because she turned her head. I frowned, wondering why I knew her face, but then—“You’re the DJ,” she said. Recognition dawned. It was the girl in the purple dress. She clutched her blanket closer around her as I replayed her accent in my head. American. Bible Belt was my guess, by her thick twang. She sounded like my mum. A smile tugged at her lips as I stayed mute. I wasn’t much of a talker. Especially when my gut was full of Jack and I had zero interest in making small talk with some girl I didn’t know at four in the morning on a cold beach in Brighton. “I’d heard of you,” she said. I stared back out over the sea. Ships sailed in the distance, their lights like tiny fireflies, bobbing up and down. I huffed a humorless laugh. Great. Another girl who wanted to screw the DJ. “Good for you,” I muttered and took a drink of my Jack, feeling the addictive burn slide down my throat. I hoped she’d piss off, or at least stop trying to talk to me. My head couldn’t take any more noise. “Not really,” she shot back. I looked over at her, eyebrows pulled down in confusion. She was looking out over the sea, her chin resting on her folded arms that lay over her bent knees. The blanket had fallen off her shoulders, revealing the purple dress I’d noticed from the podium. She turned to face me, cheek now on her arms. Heat zipped through me. She was pretty. “I’ve heard of you, Cromwell Dean.” She shrugged. “Decided to get a ticket to see you before I left for home tomorrow.” I lit up another cigarette. Her nose wrinkled. She clearly didn’t like the smell. Tough luck. She could move. Last time I checked, England was a free country. She went quiet. I caught her looking at me. Her brown eyes were narrowed, like she was scrutinizing me. Reading something in me that I didn’t want anyone to see. No one ever looked at me closely. I never gave them the chance. I thrived on the podium at clubs because it kept everyone far away, down on the dancefloor where no one ever saw the real me. The way she was looking at me now made nervous shivers break out over my skin. I didn’t need this kind of crap. “Already had my dick sucked tonight, love. Not looking for a second round.” She blinked, and even in the rising sun, I could see her cheeks redden. “Your music has no soul,” she blurted. My cigarette paused halfway to my mouth. Something managed to stab through my stomach at her words. I shoved it back down until I felt my usual sensation of numbness. I sucked on my cigarette. “Yeah? Well, them’s the breaks.” “I’d heard you were some messiah or something on that podium. But all your music comprised was synthetic beats and forced repetitive bursts of unoriginal tempo.” I laughed and shook my head. The girl met my eyes head-on. “It’s called electronic dance music. Not a fifty-piece orchestra.” I held out my arms. “You’ve heard of me. Said so yourself. You know what tunes I spin. What were you expecting? Mozart?” I glared at her phone, which was still playing that damn concerto. I sat back, surprised at myself. I hadn’t talked that much to anyone in . . . I didn’t know how long. I took in a drag, breathing out the smoke that was trapped in my chest. “And turn that thing off, will you? Who the hell goes to hear a dance DJ spin, then comes to a beach to listen to classical music?” The girl frowned but turned off the music. I lay back on the cold sand, closing my eyes. I heard the soft waves lapping the shore. My head filled with pale green. I heard the girl moving. I prayed she was leaving. But I felt her drop beside me. My world darkened as the whiskey and the usual lack of sleep started to pull me under. “What do you feel when you mix your music?” she asked. How the hell she thought her little interview was a good idea right now was beyond me. Yet, surprisingly, I found myself answering her question. “I don’t feel.” I cracked one eye open when she didn’t say anything. She was looking down at me. She had the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Dark hair pulled off her face in a ponytail. Full lips and smooth skin. “Then that’s the problem.” She smiled, but the smile looked nothing but sad. Pitying. “The best music must be felt. By the creator. By the listener. Every part of it from creation to ear must be wrapped in nothing but feelings.” Some weird expression crossed over her face, but hell if I knew what it meant. Her words were a blade to my chest. I hadn’t expected her harsh comment. And I hadn’t expected the blunt trauma that she seemed to deliver right to my heart. Like she’d taken a butcher’s knife and sliced her way through my soul. My body itched to get up and run. To pluck out her assessment of my music from my memory. But instead I forced a laugh, and spat, “Go back home, little Dorothy. Back to where music means something. Where it’s felt.” “Dorothy was from Kansas.” She glanced away. “I’m not.” “Then go back to wherever the hell you’re from,” I snapped. Crossing my arms over my chest, I hunkered down into the sand and shut my eyes, trying to block out the cold wind that was picking up and slapping my skin, and her words that were still stabbing at my heart. I never let anything get to me like this. Not anymore. I just needed some sleep. I didn’t want to go back to my mum’s house here in Brighton, and my flat in London was too far away. So hopefully the cops wouldn’t find me here and kick me off the beach. With my eyes closed, I said, “Thanks for the midnight critique, but as the fastest-rising DJ in Europe, with the best clubs in the world begging for me to spin at their decks—all at nineteen—I think I’ll ignore your extensive notes and just keep on living my sweet as fuck life.”

 

Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

Author Links

 

 

 

Blog Tour & Review: Candy Ever After by Jo Raven


Title: Candy Ever After 
Author: Jo Raven 
Genre: Menage Romance 
 
 
 
 

 

 
“Candy, why is your bed so big?”
“… to fit my two boyfriends when we snuggle together at night.”
Only that’s my father asking, staring at the bed in question.
Oops.
So yeah. Unruly Jethro and cocky Joel are now officially my boyfriends. My Candy Boys. I moved in with them, and I expected things to be tense, awkward. I was wrong. This feels so right, and well, hot. These boys are so hot.
But with college starting, Jethro returning to work at the bookshop, and Joel starting his own business, everything’s shifting. Not to forget the fact that Joel still hasn’t confronted his parents about our relationship, that Jethro is still recovering from his dad’s brutal attack, and that I feel insecure, well…
Wait a sec. Insecure? Come on, Candy. That’s BS. These boys love you.
Yeah, I know. The boys and me, we’re solid. However, doubt still lingers. I mean, Joel’s parents hate each other. Jethro’s dad killed his mom, for chrissakes—and my mom has acquired a sudden interest in sex toys and escort services.
So I wonder if true love really exists. Love that doesn’t fade over time. You know, the kind that withstands nightmares and bad jokes, unwashed dishes in the sink and lack of lube.
Yeah, that happened.
These boys own me. They’re sweet, sexy and caring—but will they break my heart, or is this our happily ever after?
 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 
5star

From the very beginning this author had me smirking or grinning, then chuckling and at times laughing out loud! All of these things are a definite plus for me! If I’m reading a romantic comedy I like to enjoy a chuckle or too with the characters and you definitely do that with this story. For e.g. when Jet says this about his boss. “She’s pretty for a thirty-year-old with the personality of a sumo wrestler and the temper of a mad Chihuahua.” Great one liners!

This is the book that finishes Candy, Jet and Joel’s story. All have committed to a relationship together however there are some demons that interfere.

This is a quick and easy to read story that leaves wanting to read more from this talented author. There is more than humour in this book though. Some much deeper issues arise like personal insecurities that are easy to identify with because they are very real, other people’s perceptions and prejudices as well. All are handled smoothly but not in a fairytale manner.

I look forward to reading more from Jo Raven.

Reviewed by Robyn

LLEP Review Team
4-star
Candy Ever After was a perfect ending to this story. All 3 parties finally found their internal peace along with their relationship. They all came to terms with their sexualities along with explaining to their families who and what type of relationship they truly have with each other.
This was a great read from start to finish. I loved the silliness and chemistry between them all.
Reviewed by Jennifer
LLEP Review Team
 

 

 
Jo Raven is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, best known for her series Inked Brotherhood and Damage Control. She writes edgy, contemporary New Adult romance with sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines. She writes about MME fighters and tattoo artists, dark pasts that bleed into the present, loyalty and raw emotion. Add to that breathtaking suspense, super-hot sex scenes and a happy ending, and you have a Jo Raven® story.
 

 

 
Find all her books here . 
 
Be the first to get your hands on Jo Raven’s new releases & offers, giveaways, previews, and more by signing up here 
 
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Blog Tour & Review: Once Should Be Enough by Nikky Kaye

 

 

Amazon Global

 

 

 

Are friends with benefits worth the cost?

My cocky friend Will doesn’t believe that I’m frigid, but what does he know? His promises might make me shiver but it doesn’t mean he can give me a happy. He’s so confident he’s betting me money on it, and a thousand bucks is a lot of money to a poor college student.

Once should be enough to taunt him with “I told you so,” right?

But I didn’t know he meant trying everything once…

This super hot 25,000-word standalone new adult romance novella has adult language and themes, and a happy ending (several, actually).

Review

4-star

Once Should Be Enough is a fun fast read by Nikky Kaye. Cassie is friends with Will. They make a fast friendship during a dreaded biology class in college. Things take a serious turn when Cassie has a drunken night at a college party, but Will is still a total gentleman. Fast forward a couple of weeks and he usually timid and meek Cassie begins talking about her sex life, or lack there of, to her best pal, Will. I mean, why can’t you talk about those things with your friend? Little does Cassie know, Will has been harboring some heated desires for Cassie and makes her an offer that she cannot (and does not) want to refuse. Quiet little Cassie may just have a little freak in her after all.

This book was quick and fun to read. Will was a great character. I loved how he was a gentleman when needed, but took charge and rocked Cassie’s world. To be honest, I wanted to slap Cassie a couple of times, but in the end, she grew on me. This is a hot and sexy book that will get your motor running.

Reviewed by Shannon
LLEP Review Team

A tremor went through me at the feel of his other hand higher up on my back, tracing the line of my spine.

“—a room!”

A nearby shout of laughter burst into my brain, bringing me back to reality. And that reality was that I was, once again, ready to climb Will like a tree in a public place. My face heated. Was I a closet exhibitionist?

“What do you think?” he asked, looking down at me. His eyes were almost black in the dim light of the bar, his mouth swollen from, well, me. I licked my lips.

Our lower halves were molded together as his palm slid further around my ass, to the damp little crease where my thigh started. I moaned. If he just stretched his fingers a little, he could touch—

“Think?” He wanted me to think? His wandering hands were this close to being the only thing holding me upright.

He nodded. “I know; it’s hard right now.”

“Uh huh.”

“Should we?”

“Should we what?”

His lips curved up. “Get a room.”

My earlier nervousness bubbled up again. As I started to look at the floor again—I think I had memorized the tile pattern by now—he broke his hands off my backside and tipped my chin up.

“Hey. We will do whatever you want,” he assured me.

And I believed that he meant it, that he would willingly go home with blue balls from hell if I stopped this. But if he was feeling anything like I was, we were standing at the top of the stairs with that Slinky again. I wanted—no, needed—him to push me over. He was just waiting for the word from me. Or maybe he wanted me to push him over this time.

“What do you want to do?” I asked him.

Yes, I was being passive-aggressive. I wanted to give him an out. Will may be an admitted pervert, but he was also a gentleman. He would never…

“I already told you,” he said. “I want to fuck you, however and wherever you want. Whenever, too, but now is good for me.”

“Here?” I squeaked.

“No. I need you in private.” He leaned close to my ear, letting out a dark chuckle. “I want to do things to you that are illegal in many states, and definitely against the health code, even in this place.”

If he could devour me whole with just his gaze, he would. I’d never felt so overwhelmed by just someone looking at me—into me—like my skin was made of glass. His breath was coming as short and fast as mine, as we both considered what those secret, wicked things would be.

“But I will wait, if it’s not tonight. Fuck, I’ll even take you out first. But I’m not waiting for the third date or anything like that,” he warned. “I’ve already gotten you out of your underwear.”

“I wasn’t wearing any.”

 

Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.

 

 

Blog Tour & Review: P.I.T.A by Brooke Blaine

Title: P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons, #3)

Author: Brooke Blaine

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Release Date: January 30, 2017

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Synopsis

As one of the most prestigious wedding coordinators in Los Angeles, Paige Iris Traynor-Ashcroft is known for being classy, elegant, and the orchestrator of many happily-ever-afters.

But in the words of Paige herself: “What a crock of shiitake.”

Known affectionately (or not) as P.I.T.A. to those closest to her, she’s never been one to buy into the whole monogamy thing for herself. Sure, her BFFs are getting picked off by Cupid one by one, but his arrows have nothing on her semiautomatic.

Richard “Dick” Dawson does his best to live up to his name. A long-time frenemy and manwhore extraordinaire, he thrives on pushing limits, pushing up skirts—and pushing every single one of Paige’s buttons. He’s the itch she can’t scratch, and doesn’t want to. Or does she?

What happens when blazing-hot rage turns to crazy, unexplainable lust? Surely not…love? Because that would just be a total P.I.T.A.

 

Purchase your copy today!

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

Review

5star

5 million stars!!!

Just when I thought that Brooke’s writing couldn’t get any better, she releases another book that exceeds my expectations! I loved the first two books in the L.A. Liaisons but P.I.T.A. was so much more and different. This book was angsty, emotional, captivating, and a total page turner. Once I started I didn’t want to put it down for anything until I completely finished it! I loved the whole friends to enemies to lovers theme which was much different than the other books in the series.

Paige Iris Traynor-Ashcroft is a kickass wedding planner who ironically enough doesn’t believe in marriage for herself. She is one of the most stubborn hard headed people who will speak whatever is on her mind without a care to who’s listening and you definitely don’t want to cross her when she is on one of her tirades. I loved her character and how spirited and sassy she was. She was definitely up for any challenge thrown at her. It was treat to get to know her more and I loved her no filter attitude.

Richard “Dirty-Dick” Dawson is cocky, smooth, and slick with his moves. Whereas Paige has no filter whatsoever and says whatever pops into her head, Dawson knows when to speak and when not to and definitely knows just the perfect way to shut Paige up as well. Just like Paige he is up for the challenge and that’s exactly what he gets when it comes to his pita.

Paige and Dawson grew up as children of privilege and next door neighbors to one another which started their friendship bond. But something along the way soured that bond and made them the hard headed, spitfire people that they were to one another. But what happens when that blazing hot rage turns to crazy unexplainable lust?! Not love…That would be crazy considering their stance on monogamy, right?!

I absolutely loved the back and forth banter between these two!! Their banter hilarious and their quick witted comebacks had me laughing throughout the whole book. This book was told entirely in Paige’s POV and I would have loved to have at least a little bit of Dawson’s POV to see what he was thinking at times and a little bit more background about how their friendship started. I loved everything about this book and Dawson & Paige’s dynamic. I loved getting to see all the side characters from previous books, such as, Ryleigh, Shayne, Quinn, and Ace!!! I seriously cannot recommend this book and this whole series enough!!! If you haven’t one-clicked yet, what the heck are you waiting for?! And I cannot wait to get Quinn’s book because she is still much a mystery to me! But seriously, buy this book right now!!!

Reviewed by Ashley
LLEP Review Team

About Brooke Blaine

You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas.

Brooke enjoys writing sassy contemporary romance, whether in the form of comedy, suspense, or erotica. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts.

If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find – just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for ten years.

You can connect with Brooke here:

http://www.brookeblaine.com/

★ Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer

★ Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1

★ Instagram: www.instagram.com/brookeblaine1/

★ Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1i2g15S

★ Brooke & Ella’s Facebook Group:https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas

If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s newsletter:

http://eepurl.com/brxPkP

And make sure to follow me on Bookbub!

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/brooke-blaine

 

Read the series!

Licked (L.A. Liaisons, #1)

Licked Cover

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Hooker (L.A. Liaisons,#2)

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blog Tour & Review: The Knight by Skye Warren

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Grab THE KNIGHT by Skye Warren NOW!

“Positively sinful, and outrageously sexy! Emotions run high and readers will be left gasping.” – New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones

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Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fTV384
iBooks: http://apple.co/2gPjiJ0
Nook: http://bit.ly/2fTZ4cF
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2gJjqqr

The power of pleasure…

Gabriel Miller took everything from me. My family. My innocence. My home. The only thing I have left is the determination to get back what’s mine.

He thinks he’s beaten me. He thinks he’s won. What he doesn’t realize is that every pawn has the chance to become a queen.

And the game has only just begun.

THE KNIGHT is book two in the Endgame series from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love.

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Review:

5star

After reading The Pawn I could not wait to get my hot little hands on The Knight. I needed to find out what happened next with Avery. I was not disappointed one bit. There are so many twists in The Knight that I felt like I just completed a cardio workout. So so good.

Avery is reeling and trying to survive after being kicked to the curb by Gabriel. Add to the fact that her father is in a rehab facility trying to recover from a heart attack. Avery doesn’t know which way is up. The poor girl is living in a seedy hotel for goodness sake.

Gabriel, ever the mysterious enigma, makes his appearance back in Avery’s life. We learn a bit more about Gabriel and find out some interesting things of why he is the way he is. Despite acting one way, his true colors come out.

This book was so dramatic, mysterious, and sexy. I never imagined the ending. A new player pops up that throws the whole thing off kilter. Actually we met a few new characters in this book who I hope to see more of in the next. I loved every minute of The Knight and I cannot wait for more.

Reviewed by Shannon
LLEP Review Team

EXCERPT:

“Still giving orders, little virgin? Is that something you’re born with in the St. James family, or did they teach you that along with your ABCs?”

Rage tightens a knot in my stomach. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No?” he asks, lifting a hand to my face.

I stand very still as he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, torn between wanting to wrench away and wanting him to kiss me. How can he make me feel alive when I’ve been sleepwalking for months, years? What sick twist of fate let the hands of this man bring me pleasure?

“You made sure of that.” I mean the words to come out cold, unhurt. Instead I sound breathless and somehow inviting. The white carpet may as well be streaked with red. We’re both back in his bedroom, both flushed and sated and ripped to shreds from what he’s just done.

He lifts my face, almost tender. “I put my cock into your warm little hole. Pushed right through that thin hymen to do it. It felt like fucking heaven to break you open.”

I’m a tuning fork in his hands, and the sound I make is pure arousal. “I despise you.”

“You were so wet,” he says, almost thoughtful. “But some of it was blood, wasn’t it?”

“I’m going to find a way to get my house back.”

He bends his head slightly, enough that our lips are an inch away, the words a tickle of breath against my lips. “I got off on the slide of your blood on my cock. I came that way, spilling salt into the fresh open wound.”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to him, no line I wouldn’t cross in this moment. My anger takes an unholy shape, rearing back with all the fury and fear of a wild horse ready to trample his enemy. “And God help me, I’m going to ruin you. The way you did my father. I’m going to break you.”

He nudges my chin higher, exposing the vulnerable line of my throat. His mouth drops to the tender skin, a whisper of a kiss. “Do you want to make me bleed, little virgin?”

The violence takes me by surprise. My swing is wild, aimed straight for his face with all my strength. He catches my wrist midmotion, the abrupt stop shooting pain down my arm. We’re frozen that way, him holding me, breathing each other’s air.

“Don’t call me that,” I say between clenched teeth.

“Little virgin.”

“I’m not. You saw the proof of it. You paid a million dollars for it.”

“Actually,” he says, voice deceptively mild. “I paid a million dollars to use you for a month. And as that month isn’t over yet, I think I’d like to collect.”

Shock courses through me, singeing every angry intention. “No.”

“And as for your virginity, there are a hundred ways you haven’t been taken. A thousand ways you haven’t been fucked. A million dollars left to earn.”

“That money’s mine. You sent me away.”

“And yet,” he says, echoing his earlier words, “here you fucking are. This is what you wanted. This is what you came for. Did you really think you’d see me and walk away without my come inside you?”

My gasp sounds virginal even to myself. “Of course I did.”

He uses the hold on my wrist to drag me closer, off balance, almost falling into him. His warmth surrounds me, along with a musk my body remembers. Alarm bells ring more than they did this morning. A strange man could hurt me, but Gabriel—he’s worse. My own kryptonite.

“Here’s the thing about fucking a virgin,” he whispers, breath a caress on my temple. “You gave me your pretty little hymen, the small spill of blood. The first feel of those walls squeezing my cock. And there’s no way to get it back, not ever. No matter who else you fuck. Even if you settle down with some prep-school fucker and let him climb on top of you every single night, I’ll always be your first. You will always be my little virgin.”

The show of possession does something strange to me. It should be offensive. It’s meant to be offensive, but the humiliation turns liquid and hot inside my body. And the worst part is, I can’t even deny the truth. He left an imprint inside me. I can still remember the stretch of him, the burn. The very shape of that heavy thickness I can feel against my stomach now. And anyone who comes after him, they’ll never quite fill the space he carved inside of me.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, soothing now that I’ve acquiesced. “I’ve got you.”

“No, we can’t—”

He releases my wrist only to run a finger along my cheek. “So young. You look so young like this.”

“It’s the makeup,” I say with difficulty. And the hair. And the clothes. In a thousand ways I was different before, the society princess. What am I now? Almost homeless. Definitely scared.

His eyes gentle, more brown than they’ve been before. “You didn’t think you were getting fucked today. You got dressed and took the bus and came up the elevator having no idea.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

A slight smile. “Not enough to stop. Take off those clothes. Let’s see what you look like when you’re just a sweet, innocent college girl and not the toy I bought at auction.”

Start the series today!

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BUY NOW:
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Blurb:

“Sinfully sexy and darkly beautiful, The Pawn will play games with your heart and leave you craving more!” – Laura Kaye, New York Times bestselling author

The price of survival…

Gabriel Miller swept into my life like a storm. He tore down my father with cold retribution, leaving him penniless in a hospital bed. I quit my private all-girl’s college to take care of the only family I have left.

There’s one way to save our house, one thing I have left of value.

My virginity.

A forbidden auction…

Gabriel appears at every turn. He seems to take pleasure in watching me fall. Other times he’s the only kindness in a brutal underworld.

Except he’s playing a deeper game than I know. Every move brings us together, every secret rips us apart. And when the final piece is played, only one of us can be left standing.


THE PAWN is a full-length contemporary novel from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren about revenge and seduction in the game of love. It’s the first book in the brand new ENDGAME series.

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The cover and blurb for THE CASTLE by Skye Warren is here!

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preorder now!
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2jmNICN
iBooks: http://apple.co/2kxF0Dp
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Blurb:

I’m safe in the ivory tower Gabriel Miller made for me. That’s what he says. Enemies lurk outside, waiting to strike. An army of enemies held back by these walls.

Except some animal instinct warns me the danger is much closer. It’s already here. Is Gabriel Miller my protector or my enemy? Is this house a castle or a cage?

There’s nowhere for me to go, no one left for me to trust.

No escape from a past determined to capture its prize.

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About the Author:

Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of contemporary romance such as the Chicago Underground series. Her books have been featured in Jezebel, Buzzfeed, USA Today Happily Ever After, Glamour, and Elle Magazine. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, two sweet dogs, and one evil cat.

Contact Skye:

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