Pay for Play Cover reveal

Title: Pay for Play

Series: Alphachat.com

Author: Victoria Ashley & Hilary Storm

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: June 6, 2016

Model: Darren Birks

Photographer: Darren Birks Photography

Designer: Designs by Dana

Alphachat.com – That’s all the info you need to get off in the privacy of your own home, car or hell… even in a public fucking library.

      Whatever gets you wet.

      I never expected a million-dollar business to come out of touching myself on camera, but when you add in nine of your best guys, the women become hungry and the money begins flowing faster than you can spend it.

     You want to see me take my shirt off, I’ll strip it off nice and slow, making you sweat in anticipation.

     You want to see me touch my dick, I’ll stroke every hard inch of it, getting you off before you can even feel it creeping up on you.

     Your money.

     Your Alpha.

     Your demand.

     Now I just hope playing for her on camera will pay off enough for me to claim her outside of the computer screen.

 

Victoria Ashley

Victoria Ashley grew up in Rockford, IL and has had a passion for reading for as long as she can remember. After finding a reading app where it allowed readers to upload their own stories, she gave it a shot and writing became her passion.
She lives for a good romance book with tattooed bad boys that are just highly misunderstood and is not afraid to be caught crying during a good read. When she's not reading or writing about bad boys, you can find her watching her favorite shows such as Sons Of Anarchy, Supernatural and The Walking Dead.

 

Contact her at:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Intstagram

Hilary Storm

Hilary Storm lives with her high school sweetheart and three children in Oklahoma. She drives her husband crazy talking about book characters everyday like they are real people. She graduated from Southwestern Oklahoma State University with an MBA in Accounting and has a full time job as an accountant. Her passions include being a mom, writing, reading, photography, music, mocha coffee, and spending time with friends and family. She is the author of the International Best Selling 'Rebel Walking' Series, Bryant Brothers Series, Inked Brothers Series, Six and co-author of The Elite Forces Series book Ice! Sign up for her newsletter here: http://goo.gl/forms/d0UON5HIUC

Contact her at:

Webpage * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram

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Come to Me release Blitz

 

Title: Come To Me

Series: Owned #3

Author: Mary Catherine Gebhard

Release Date: May 26, 2016

 

 

 

What happens after the happily ever after?
Is it really sunshine and roses?
For Vic Wall, the moon is rising and the roses are wilting.
Turns out the princess has a mental illness.

Lennox Moore is in his blood and bones,
But sometimes blood goes bad and bones break.
Vic wants to fix them,
Is determined to find what turned their love cancer.
Yet maybe the only way to continue,
Is to end.

This is the epic final installment to the Owned series.

Warning: Sometimes people are ugly and what they do even uglier, even to the ones they love.

 

 

iTunes | iTunes UK | iTunes AU | Goodreads

 

 

 

Sure, I loved the feeling when she came over my hand. I loved how wet she got and I loved knowing that it was me who got her there. I loved the sounds she made. I loved how she let loose and couldn’t contain herself and it made me feel like a fucking god knowing I undid her like that. Still, nothing got me higher than her look. 

 

There was a moment when Lenny came. A brief, few seconds when I could see inside her. Right before her eyes rolled back, a few seconds before she got that blurry, starry-eyed gaze, I saw her soul. 

 

I gripped her chin, forced her gaze, and though she fought it, I could see it coming as quickly as she was. Lenny took her lip between her teeth and as her orgasm washed over her, so did she let me see into her soul.

 

 

 

 

Mary Catherine Gebhard bites off more than she can chew and sometimes calls herself Eva Natsumi. She's lived in Salt Lake City, Utah her entire life, but occasionally goes on vacation from reality. Don't worry, she sends postcards.

 

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Crave Me Blog Tour

BLOG TOUR

CRAVE ME

BESTSELLING AUTHOR M. ROBINSON

COVER MODEL MITCH MCKERSIE

COVER DESIGN THE FINAL WRAP

RELEASE MAY 10^TH

They say in order to find yourself you have to go home.

What if home was what you're running from?

Where did that leave you?

Always on the other side of the fence.

Always looking in.

Always wishing you were someone you couldn't be.

Until one day you meet her.

The one.

She was my high, but she was also...

My demise.

Colors blended together making it hard to focus on one thing. I blinked a few times and just like that…

I saw her face.

As if she was standing right in front of me.

Smiling.

Happy.

Laughing.

My whole world…

My girl.

I felt my lips curl up slightly at the vision as I reached out for her. Wanting to touch her, needing to hold her, yearning to kiss her. Craving, God, craving to fucking love her.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured out loud to no one but the illusion of my drug-infested mind. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I repeated repentantly, longing for her to believe me.

Aching for her to love me again like she used to.

I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at her beautiful face before my eyes, subconsciously rubbing the tattooed key that was placed over my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore, and the desire won over the haze.

It was too powerful.

It was too vivid.

I grabbed my phone. “Baby,” I said into the speaker. The ringing quickly followed, going straight to voicemail. I hung up and tried again. “Baby,” I urged with desperation in my tone.

Still nothing.

I tried again and again and again.

I would try until the end of time if that’s what it took for her to answer.

To talk to me.

To save me.

To crave me.

Time just seemed to standstill, as my life slowly played out in front of me. Trying to balance in between the light and the darkness when all I could see was gray.

“What?!” she screamed into the phone, finally answering after I don’t know how many failed attempts. “What the hell do you want now?”

“Mi cielo.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

She ignored my term of endearment. I hadn’t called her that in such a long time.

My heaven.

“What do you want, Austin? Why are you calling me? We’re over! I can’t do this anymore!”  

I shut my eyes and let my mind wonder, allowing it to go to another place in time where she didn’t hate me.

“I remember the first time I made you smile,” I chuckled, as if it had just happened.

My nerves were on fire. The mere sound of her breathing through the phone was too intense for me. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.

“I remember when you used to smile just for me. Do you remember, baby? Do you remember what my love feels like?”

I heard her faintly breathing.

“Do you remember my hands on you? My lips? My tongue? The first time I made you come with my mouth? Do you remember all the times since? Tell me I’m not forgotten. Tell me you remember, baby.”

Silence.

“I love you, Briggs. I love you so fucking much. You’re killing me, don’t you see that? I’m dying without you.”

“No, Austin. You were dying with me,” she rasped, knowing that it killed her to say that.

“The first time I saw your face, I thought to myself, damn, this beautiful girl is goin’ to be the death of me. You were perfect in every way. I was a cocky son of a bitch who needed you then, as much as I need you now.” 

More silence.

“I had a dream about you, baby. I always fucking dream about you. In my dream you had a ring on your finger. A ring I put there. You belonged to me. Only mine. Forever fucking mine. You were pregnant, Briggs. You looked so goddamn happy. I saw light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in years.”

She sniffled into the phone.

“I made love to you. Slow, just the way you love. Taking my time to touch every last inch of your body. Memorizing every last bit of you. Making you come until you begged me to stop. I didn’t.”

“I can’t—” she tried to interject, but I didn’t let up.

“I kissed your stomach. Our baby. Letting my lips linger there, whispering sweet lullabies, letting her know daddy will always be there. Baby, it was so real. For a second I gave you the one thing you so desperately wanted, the one thing I can’t give you.”

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Have you met the other Good Ol’ Boys?

All can be read as standalone books

➸Complicate Me

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➸Forbid Me

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➸Undo Me

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➸Crave Me

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USA TODAY Bestselling author of The VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, Two Sides Gianna, and The Good Ol' Boys series. M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein. She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.

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The Traveling Series blog tour

 

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The Traveling Series

“The word L♥ve burned on his lips…”

Three best-selling stories of CARNIVAL life

The Traveling Man * The Traveling Woman * Roustabout

In one boxed set for the first time

THE TRAVELING MAN

I was ordinary. Nice.

He was extraordinary. And he wasn’t always nice.

Moody and difficult, brilliant and beautiful, Kes scared me and he protected me. He could be incredibly hurtful and incredibly thoughtful. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. He challenged me, he took me out of my safe little box and showed me the world could be magnificent. He was everything I wasn’t.

Aimee Anderson is ten when the traveling carnival first comes to her nice little town. She doesn’t expect her world to change so completely. But meeting Kestrel Donohue puts her life on a different path.

Even though she only sees him for the two weeks of the year when he passes through her home town, his friendship is the most important of her life. As a child’s friendship grows to adult love, the choices become harder, and both Kes and Aimee realize that two weeks a year will never be enough…

♥           ♥          ♥           ♥

THE TRAVELING WOMAN

How many times do you gamble on love? When love has knocked you down, should you give it another chance? When does optimism become stupidity?

And what happens when the man you’re in love with is never still, always moving, always traveling? Do you say goodbye, or do you leave behind everything that you’ve worked for, everything that you’ve ever known? Can a traveling carnival be my home?

Oh. You thought I had the answers. No, sorry. No answers, just a lot of questions—and a heart that wants to rule my head.

Can one person be my home?

♥      ♥     ♥      ♥

ROUSTABOUT

I’ve been thinking a lot about family. It’s not where you come from that matters, the people you were born to. That’s just life’s lottery. No, your real family are the people who travel your road, the family you choose for yourself. My brothers don’t share my blood, but they share my hopes and dreams, understand my fears, know what makes me tick.

They know I have rules, they just don’t know why. And I’m happy to keep it that way.

I love women. Love ‘em. The more the better. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, they can have freakin’ purple stripes—I don’t care. As long as they know about the rules, I’m not hurting anyone.

The Rules

1. Never give a woman my number. That’s smart.

2. Never sleep with them more than once. Why only eat the red M&Ms when you could have all the other colors, too?

3. Always leave her satisfied. That’s just polite.

4. Always leave never look back. That’s safe.

* * * * *

Twelve years ago Tucker McCoy walked away from the hell that was his family with not much more than the shirt on his back. No regrets. Never once looking back.

Living his life as a roustabout turned stunt rider with a traveling carnival keeps a smile on his face. His new family are the people he’s chosen to be in his life, the people who travel his road. Kes, Zach and Zef don’t share his blood, but they share his hopes and dreams. Understand his fears and know what makes him tick. They’re his brothers, his real family.

If you keep moving, no one can catch you—it’s a simple rule. So when Tucker crosses paths with Tera Hawkins, he knows he should move on. There’s no woman that’s ever been worth breaking his rules for. Besides, she’s off limits, untouchable. He knows stronger men would walk away, but dammit, he’s always been weak.

All he can offer her is a night she’ll never forget, but will that one taste be enough?

I breathed in the scent of frying onions and hotdogs, the sweet air around the cotton candy stall, watching the excited faces of children and the restrained excitement of adults as they moved down the midway. The scents and sounds took me back to a magical part of my childhood. I’ve missed this, I thought. The carnival had been such an important part of my life, and I’d cut it off ruthlessly—even if it was to protect my heart from further damage.

My nephew tugged on my hand, almost overwhelmed with the choices surrounding him.

First stop was the Monkey Maze which Dylan adored and went a long way to running off some of his nonstop energy. Then we headed down the midway, playing all the dumb games and trying to win stuffed elephants and toys that no one in their right mind would ever want. But that was the point, wasn’t it? The fair wasn’t about being sensible, it was about having as much fun as was legal.

I had a little pang when we went on the Ferris wheel, but it was so different being there with Dylan that I didn’t really mind.

I couldn’t help wondering if the whole thing hadn’t helped me grow up a little. After all, it had been eight years. I was nearly 25—definitely time to get over it. Over Kes. He-who-must-not-be named. But breaking up with my last boyfriend had left me feeling surprisingly emotional—and add that to being back in Minnesota.

In the afternoon, Dylan decided he wanted to go see the show playing at the back end of the fair. There was some motorcycle stunt rider that he wanted to see.

I wasn’t very keen. I’d seen things like that on TV—those guys were nuts.

We could hear the roar of engines set against the backdrop of some heavy rock music, presumably to ramp up the drama. My sister winced at the volume and I raised my eyebrows.

With resigned shrugs, we paid our 15 bucks each and went inside.

We’d missed the first few minutes and had to squeeze into the middle of a row of seats, much to the annoyance of the other patrons. I didn’t think we’d missed much because all I could see through a cloud of dust and fumes, was some guy in red and black leathers, using his poor motorcycle to screech around, leaving a pattern of tight circles in the dirt. Dylan told me these were called ‘donuts’. Good to know.

Those were followed by a display of wheelies: along the ground, up ramps and onto seesaws. I liked the innovation of a digital display on a large wall-mounted screen that showed the rider’s hair-raising point of view. If I squinted, I could see the camera mounted on his helmet.

Then he picked some poor woman from the audience who practically threw herself at him, and he practiced screeching around her, and skidding to a halt inches from her open legs. Ugh. She had her eyes closed the whole time, not that I blamed her for that, and I think half the audience were hoping that he’d run her over, but he didn’t.

He followed that with some wheelies standing on the seat, first on the back wheel and then on the front wheel, which was pretty cool, even doing it with no hands, which made me wonder how he controlled the bike.

So far it was technically stunning, but not that exciting. Apparently things were only just getting started. Next up were the jumps, and that had me gripping my seat. Two ramps, about sixty feet apart were set up. He raced up one, flying through the air. I gasped as his feet left the footrests and he seemed to be doing a handstand on the handlebars. I was sure I was going to see a horrible crash, and watched through my fingers as he landed.

Dylan was whooping and cheering, but Jennifer looked a little queasy.

“I want to do that, Mommy!” shouted Dylan.

Jennifer threw me a horrified look, and I shrugged as if to say, You wanted to come here.

But then the stunt guy topped that by doing a full somersault in the air. I squeaked with nerves as he seemed to mis-time his landing, but I guess that was all part of the act.

Jennifer tugged my elbow. “Bathroom break,” she mouthed.

Yeah, right. No coincidence on the timing, although, to be fair, she did look a little green.

Then two more riders entered the arena and they all jumped the ramp one after another, the guy in red and black freakin’ laying on his bike, hands in the air.

Insane. They were all insane.

And I thought that before two of the riders screamed up opposite ramps, seeming sure to hit each other midair, but missing by mere inches.

I’d never seen anything like it and was relieved when it was over.

Dylan was so excited he sounded as if he’d been sniffing helium. His squeaky high-pitched yells broke through my trance.

“Aunty Aimee, they’re signing programs! Can we go, can we?” And he waved the program in my face that we’d been given along with our tickets.

“Sure thing, buddy.”

I was happy to do anything now it was all over.

We made our way down to the arena where the three guys were chatting to the crowds. Unsurprisingly, the most popular was the guy in red and black leather.

Apparently, he was some sort of world record holder, jumping his bike more than 180 feet by Sydney Harbor Bridge, Australia, or so the program said. I couldn’t say I’d ever heard of Hawkins’ Daredevils.

He had his back to us and I could hear his deep laugh as a bunch of kids asked him questions. He was really patient with them, which I appreciated, and seemed genuinely interested as he chatted with them.

Finally, he turned to us, and my breath rushed out of my lungs. I was staring up into silver-gray eyes that still haunted my dreams.

“Kes!”

He looked equally shocked, but recovered so quickly, I wondered if I’d imagined it.

“Yeah?”

“It … it’s Aimee … Aimee Andersen.”

He stared at me, his expression giving away nothing.

“Yeah, I remember you,” he said at last, his voice grudging.

He was taller than I remembered, perhaps by as much as three or four inches, and much broader. Under his t-shirt his chest was well defined, and his biceps popped as he moved his arms. His hair was a shade darker than the pictures in my memory, and his face was narrower—the roundness of childhood long gone.

The dark scruff on his chin was new. My Kes hadn’t needed to shave.

I finally met his eyes. Those were the same. Still silvery-gray with the curious dark blue ring around the iris. And now they were staring at me without a hint of warmth.

I licked my lips and watched his eyes drop almost reflexively before he looked up again angrily.

“What are you doing here, Aimee?”

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to write. Perhaps it was growing up in a village well known for its mystery and folklore, which sparked my imagination as a child.

I enjoy writing in several different genres, and I've just published my first romcom, 'Dazzled'.

All my books have a little me in them, and I'm inspired by the personal stories of those around me. It's often from a simple discussion overheard in the train ('Exposure'), in a café, or in the street, where ideas for characters or scenes come to me.

I fell in love with both Sam ('The New Samurai') and the eponymous Sebastian in 'The Education of Sebastian' and the sequel 'The Education of Caroline', and missed them desperately once I'd finished their stories. I love writing dialogue and always try to include touches of humour in the most poignant stories.

Whether you like adult romance novels, new or young adult writing, thrillers, or fantasy, I hope you'll enjoy the journey through my stories.

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