Friday, December 2, 2016

COVER REVEAL - Razing Grace: Part 2 by Amo Jones

Title: Razing Grace: Part 2
Author: Amo Jones
Genre: Romance
Cover Design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Release Date: January 17, 2017


Can something that burns so rapidly calm the whispering chaos of your cries? Or is this all just an illusion. The perfect hypnosis. Like the humming of a sweet melody to your frantic brain. 


Blood trickled over the curve of Millie’s collarbone.


Slithering over her shoulder. 


Sliding off and into the mass puddle of death surrounding her. 

The last petal has fallen, a queen is born, and the disarray of her world is about to shatter under her very throne. 

“She knows too much…”

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Author Bio

Amo's debut series was the Sinful Souls MC series, and if you asked her which of her books you should start with, she would say The Devil's Own Series (even though you can read any of her books as standalone's).

She's a full-time writer from New Zealand who loves long romantic walks to the wine cellar.

When she's not creating magic, you can usually find her relaxing in front of the television watching the latest episode of Supernatural or Vikings. (This will be updated as she finds new television shows with hot actors.)

She's the proud mother of four little critters who are the reason she breathes, but also the reason she drinks.

She loves to write like how she lives, hanging on the edge of insanity with a wine glass in one hand and her morals-or lack thereof- in the other. 

Those are not my monkeys, I swear....
Oh those hellhounds? Yeah, those are mine.

Author Links

✰ • . ════ Always Wanting Release Blitz by Alex Grayson ✰ • . ════


My name is Abigail Summers, and I’m addicted to sex. Yes, you read right. I’m a woman that craves… no, needs to have a man take my body on a daily basis. If I don’t have sex at least once a day, my body shakes from withdrawals, my stomach cramps with unbearable pain, my sexually hazed mind goes haywire, and I become extremely irritable and a major bitch. This isn’t a lifestyle I’ve chosen for myself. It’s a struggle I deal with every single day.

I don’t do relationships, because what man wants to be stuck knowing his girl may be out having sex with some random guy if he’s not available? You may think this is something that I can control, but I say screw you; you’ve never been in my shoes before.

The cravings may be something I can’t control, but I’ve learned to embrace them. I’ve tried the sexual addiction support groups. I’ve tried curbing my appetites. I’ve been shunned, criticized, ridiculed, and called every nasty name under the sun. Well, I say fuck all you judgmental assholes. I’ll have sex with who I want, when I want, where I want. Embarrassment? That’s a thing of the past. This is my life now, and those that don’t like it can go straight to hell.

But then he came along and screwed everything up. Colt Maverick. For once in my life, I want more, crave more from one guy. A guy that’s sweet and doesn’t match my hard interior. A guy that looks at me like he wants to eat me alive and claim me as his own. A guy that will most definitely not be okay with my addiction. A guy that I want over and over again, not because my body demands it, but because I demand it.

I now have a new addiction. But will he be enough to satisfy my uncontrollable desires?

“Which is it, Abby?” I growl, needing to know if I should kick this guy’s ass for hurting her, or kick his ass for daring to touch what is mine.

She shakes her head, swallows, then looks up at me. Her eyes carry the same confusion I’m feeling.

“I didn’t want him, but he wasn’t hurting or forcing me, either.”

“Abby, what—”

“Take me back to my place,” she blurts out, interrupting me.

For the first time tonight, I notice the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the paleness of her cheeks. She doesn’t look like she feels well. My ire dies, and concern takes over. Her eyes once again drop from mine when she sees my worry. I bend my knees and force her to look at me when I get in her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she mumbles. “I just want to get out of here.”

I don’t believe her, but when I see the pinch of pain on her face, I decide to force the issue later, once we’re alone.

“My place.” I back away and grab her hand. “It’s closer,” I add when she looks like she wants to object.

Luckily, she nods.

The forgotten guy on the floor has managed to sit up and lean against the wall, still holding his nose and stomach. My eyes narrow at him when he looks up and spots us. The bastard shrinks back further against the wall at my look.

Smart man.

“The back door,” Abby murmurs and pulls on my hand, leading me to a back entrance.

After stepping outside into the dark alleyway, Abby stumbles to a stop several feet from the door. I look to see what’s wrong and find her staring at me. The look in her eyes is hard to distinguish. I see pain, uncertainty, and a hint of what looks like desire. The desire is what confuses me. She’s obviously hurting, so how can she be turned on at the same time?

“Blue,” she says softly, her hand tightening in mine.

“What is it?” I ask, stepping into her space.

What’s up with this woman? Something’s off with her, and I need to find out what it is before she drives me crazy.

The hand she was using to hold mine releases its grip and lands on my lower stomach. Her other hand trails a path up my chest and snakes around my neck. I gaze down at her in bewilderment when she steps closer and plasters her front to mine, her tits flattening against my hard chest.
She grips the waistband of my jeans. “I need you,” she whispers harshly.

My dick jerks, and I want nothing more than to sink my hands into her plump ass, lift her up, and sink inside her, but I don’t. I need to get her home and find out what’s wrong with her first.
“Let’s get you back to my place.”

“No,” she whimpers. She raises her hands and digs her nails into my scalp. “I need you, Blue. Please.”

Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at

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☆ ҉ ☆ Wordless by Alyne Roberts ☆ ҉ ☆

Title: Wordless
Author: Alyne Roberts
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 28, 2016

Shiloh is a secret. Locked away behind thick walls and armed guards. She is the only weakness of her dangerous and powerful father. She dreamed of the day she can escape and live a normal life.
Whispered promises lead her to a different dangerous and powerful man. Shiloh believes Pierce can give her freedom, as long as he never learns who she really is. Shiloh trades being one man’s secret to become another man's pawn.
What will Shiloh sacrifice to be free? Her family? Her voice?
Can she take a life for a chance to live the life she always longed for?
Inspired by Han Andersen’s fairy tale The Little Mermaid (NOT the Disney version), taking place in the modern and human world.

“I loved this book and couldn't put it down. As I went from page to page, I wondered what was coming next. I smiled, I cried, but most of all I kept hoping for Pierce to discover Shiloh's secret.” - My Timeout Book blog

I turn around grip her chin, turning her face so she’s forced to look me in the eyes. I wait until her panic subsidies and she focuses solely on me. “Can you speak yet?” She tries. Nothing but a painful rasp. Her eyes are so expressive, I see the sorrow and disappointment in them. “Did someone send you to me? Are you here to steal, spy, kill?” She shakes her head, and I see the fear in her eyes. Is she scared I will find the truth or that I won’t believe her? “What if I took you back to wherever you came from? Should I do that?” Her hands grab my wrist tightly. Desperation and panic swirls in her gaze. She shakes her head frantically, begging me not to send her away. “Are you hiding from someone?” Shiloh nods. It’s full of regret and shame. She bites her swollen lip, waiting for me to push her away or pull her safety. I weigh my options. “You escaped and think I will save you?” I can’t help the edge in my voice. “I’m not a hero.” Her mouth forms a word—one so simple I can read her lips. Please. They tell me the girl is mute, that she may never speak again. She doesn’t need a voice because I see every word she needs to say in her eyes. “Come,” I tell her. “You will stay with me until I figure out what to do with you.” I take her arm and help her off the plane. She’s weak but light and easy to hold up. When she steps to the ground, she inhales deeply. Her wide and glassy eyes looks over to the ocean. I watch her awed reaction and notice the light freckles dotting her nose and cheekbones. There’s an innocence about her that I’m not sure if I should trust. “Never seen the ocean before?” I ask. She shakes her head, still staring off to where the sun is starting to set over the blue horizon. “Welcome to the Bahamas,” I say. Her gaze is torn away from the view, and mine from her, when my housekeeper takes her off my hands. The girl’s ushered into my home, and I wonder if I just made the stupidest mistake of my life.

Toy. Pet. Secret. Trade. In the bedroom that is not really mine anger boils inside me. I would scream if it could be heard. What good is a scream if it can’t bounce off the walls? What release does it offer when the pent up energy cannot leave my body? I was foolish to think I could find what I needed here. Pierce and his family are just like mine. He will use me however he can to gain power. As invisible as I am, I hear things no one thinks I do. I know that both our fathers are fighting for the same thing. All my life I resented the fact I was locked away and kept behind high walls. I wanted freedom and a chance to be someone other than the boss’s daughter. I only managed to find myself in the exact situation my father was trying to protect me from. Paradox: (n.) a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth. I want to laugh at the irony. A laugh brings no happiness when it cannot be heard. Pierce is looking for the dancer I left him with. How funny is it that I handed him to her on a platter? He will seek her out and keep his promises to another woman. I will be the currency used to secure her freedom. Digging around in the nightstand, I search for the pad of paper and pen left for me. I hold the pen in shaking hands, the ink ready to tell the truth. I saved you. I stare at the words a moment before crumpling the paper. Those three words are proof of my betrayal to my family. When my father finds me, or I am turned over, he will know the truth. If I can convince him somehow to forgive me for running away, I won’t be able to walk away from the three words I put on this paper. I pace the borrowed room, stepping out to the balcony in attempt to soothe the anger I feel growing inside. Instead, I grow more bitter. I shred the page, letting the pieces float away in the breeze. The ocean will swallow my secret and keep it forever. I whirl around, my whole body shaking with anger and defeat. I want to yell, scream, and cry. The silence becomes too much. I pull at the curtains until I hear the snap of the rods holding them up. I yank the blankets off the bed and toss them to the floor. Doors slam and I pound on anything I can. The need to make noise is so intense I wish I had a bomb. “Shiloh!” I ignore the shout as I throw my shells against the window. The sound isn’t as loud as I need it. I reach for the lamp but strong arms band around me. I kick and squirm, but I’m pinned to his chest. My throat is sore from trying to shout and my eyes are wet with salty tears. “Stop,” he says in my ear. His voice is too calm and low. I fight him harder. I want him to yell at me. I stomp on his toe, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, we turn and Pierce pins me to the wall. “Relax,” he whispers in my ear. My blood heats. I throw my head back, connecting with his chin. His grunt is exactly what I wanted. I spin out of his hold but only make it a few steps before Pierce tackles me to the floor. I’m quick but not as strong as he is. He flips me to my back and his fingers clamp around my wrist. I buck underneath him as he straddles me, pinning my hands above my head. “I wish I could hear your screaming,” he says as he stares down at me. “What would you shout at me?” I can’t move with him on top of me like this. I exhale loudly, my body deflating as the air leaves me. Pierce doesn’t move, trying to read my silent words on my face. “You think I’m going to take you home.” I glare up at him, trying to keep my face hard to hide the emotions swirling inside me. It doesn’t matter anyway because Pierce can hear me from the inside. He can always read me, it seems.

Alyne lives in Ohio with her husband, two dogs and cat. Working full time in an office all day, she spends her nights reading, writing or watching an entire TV series in a night. She refuses to grow up and loves Disney movies and anything with owls. She couldn't live without her coffee or her furry "children". Alyne wrote her first novel titled "Light to the Darkness" in 2014. To stay up to date on what Alyne is working on, teasers and more: Sign up for the newsletter. She loves to connect with readers so feel free to stalk her!