Thursday Threads with R B Austin

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Fallen-Redemption

Fallen Redemption by R B Austin

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Heat Level: Sizzling

 

Killing Fallen to save mankind is Cade’s redemption for murder and only one human—mouthwatering and absolutely forbidden—stands in his way.

Cade committed himself to saving lives before he learned the full consequences of his life-altering decision. It wasn’t until he was tending his sick wife that he learned the enormity of what he’d done and he was unable to save her from the monster he had become. Consumed with guilt and praying for absolution, he threw himself into killing every Fallen he could find to save the humans he’d sworn to protect. But then Emma, deliciously mortal and completely forbidden, swept into his world, stirring an overpowering desire. Now he’s not only fighting soulless creatures, but also his inner cravings, trying to maintain his distance and continue on his path to forgiveness. He won’t lose control again and lose another love.

Excerpt

The cut was small and not deep, it would stop bleeding in a matter of minutes.

Blood seeped from the wound. It trickled down Sarah’s wrist and pooled in her upturned hand.

He froze.

Changes overcame his body. Uncontrollable. Unknown.

Breath quickened. Heart pounded as loud as a horse’s gallop. Sarah hadn’t awakened. The pain from her cut was insubstantial compared to the pain of her sickness.

The thick, crimson liquid flowing from the wound was anything but insubstantial to Caderyn. Still unable to move, his eyes hadn’t wavered from the blood. The tray left his hands and clattered to the ground. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, bringing himself an inch from the cut. The scent of blood filled his nostrils. Consumed all thought. Sight. He wanted to close his eyes and savor the reverent aroma filling his senses. Something awakened inside of him.

Foreign.

Monstrous.

Wrong.

He was hungry, yet didn’t want food. Thirsty, but didn’t want to reach for a cup of water. Another drop of blood welled from the cut. A growl tore from his throat.

It was the switch and it had been thrown.

One moment he was himself. The monster inside separate. Next the wall between the two vanished. He was the Behnshma. His humanity gone. Another growl. It echoed around the house. Filled his ears.

He was ravenous. The fact he hadn’t eaten in a little over a week ached his empty belly and burned his dry, parched throat. There were two pricks of pain in his top gum. Finger in his mouth, he found two long, sharp as knives, teeth. Like Elias. Like the wolves in the forest when they tore into a deer carcass. Their muzzles bloody, meat dangling from their mouths. Blood.

He knew what he wanted to do, what his body demanded he do. Caderyn licked his lips and his tongue nicked an elongated tooth. His own blood melted decadently over his tongue. A flood of senses erupted. Never had he tasted anything this wonderful. His mouth zinged with flavor. The blood coated his throat. He’d been dying of thirst his whole life but hadn’t known it. Warmth spread through his body.

His hands shook as he brought them to Sarah’s arm. Grasping her wrist and forearm he leaned toward the blood. Inch by inch. He was a magnet and her arm was the polar opposite.

Her inaudible yelp of fright permeated through the rushing noise in his ears. He tore his eyes away and met her wide-eyed startled ones.

Stop.

Fear was an acrid, burning stench in his nostrils. Her thoughts a chaotic jumble weaving through his mind. She tried to move her lethargic limbs. Tried to escape. To break free.

He flexed his hands, squeezing her arm as his gaze trailed from the vein in her neck to the one in her wrist right below the cut. The blood slowed and the edges of the wound begun to dry. The tangy, copper scent of the fresh liquid underneath her skin reached his nose. Caderyn listened to it pass through her veins. Faster and faster.

Ignoring his wife’s futile attempts to escape, he leaned closer and inhaled. A growl erupted from his throat. He bent. Licked the wound. Groaned. His cock hardened.

Sarah, panicked now, tried to yank her arm free. It was the most she’d moved in days. Growling, like a dog with his bone, he held down her upper arm and her squirming hand. Pushed it back until her forearm bowed, and the cut extended to him like a present.

Caderyn. Please. I beg you.

He was hurting her arm. Scaring her. She was begging.

Flicking his tongue over her wrist, he caught another drop of the thick liquid gold. Then another and another. It wasn’t enough. He bared his teeth, striking fast to sink them deep into her wrist. She gave a weak jerk. Caderyn drew her blood into his mouth with long pulls. His cock jerked and warmth spread inside his breeches. There was no stopping. Her struggles to escape were an annoying insect buzzing around the room. The pleas to stop were shouts in his head. Both were easy to ignore. Sarah ceased to struggle.

He was killing her.

He couldn’t stop.

And didn’t stop until she was dead

Links:

Website: http://rbaustin.com

Facebook: https://facebook.com/authorrbaustin

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorrbaustin

Goodreads: https://goodreads.com/rbaustin

To buy: http://amzn.com/B00E49OQ12

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Thursday Threads with Collette Cameron

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TheViscountsVow3_850

The Viscount’s Vow by Collette Cameron

Genre: Historical Romance/Regency

Heat Level: Sensual

Amidst murder and betrayal, destiny and hearts collide when scandal forces a viscount and a  gypsy noblewoman to marry in this Regency romance sprinkled with suspense and humor.

Part Romani, part English noblewoman, Evangeline Caruthers is the last woman in England Ian Hamilton, the Viscount Warrick, could ever love—an immoral wanton responsible for his brother’s and father’s deaths. She thinks he’s a foul-tempered blackguard, who after setting out to cause her downfall, finds himself forced to marry her—snared in the trap of his own making.

When Vangie learns the marriage ceremony itself may have been a ruse, she flees to her gypsy relatives, declaring herself divorced from Ian under Romani law. He pursues her to the gypsy encampment, and when the handsome gypsy king offers to take Ian’s place in Vangie’s bed, jealousy stirs hot and dangerous.

At last, under a balmy starlit sky, Ian and Vangie breech the chasm separating them. Peril lurks though. Ian’s the last in his line, and his stepmother intends to dispose of the newlyweds so her daughter can inherit his estate. Only by trusting each other can they overcome scandal and murderous betrayal.

 “A brilliant tale combining Regency romance with exotic Romani culture.”

 Excerpt

“You didn’t eat much, wife.”

They were alone on the dance floor. Ian deftly twirled Vangie around his aunt’s smallish ballroom, mindful of the interested gazes watching them.

Stealing a glance at the smiling and nodding onlookers, he suppressed a frown. He felt like a curiosity on display at Bullock’s Museum. He wished others would take to the floor, so he could dispense with the devoted bridegroom facade.

The twelve courses at dinner had been torturous. His wife hadn’t taken more than a dozen bites nor said as many words. He’d tried to eat the succulent foods Aunt Edith had gone to such efforts to have prepared, but his anger made everything dry as chalk and every bit as tasteless.

“I’d not much appetite, my lord.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you think you might address me by my given name, wife?”

“Why?” she asked pertly. “I’ve known you but four days, certainly not long enough to be so familiar with you.”

He lowered his head, breathing in her ear, very aware every eye in the room was trained on them. He’d give them something to gossip about. “Because I want you to, wife, and you did promise to obey.”

He nipped her ear.

She jumped and a tiny yelp of surprise escaped before she clamped her lips together. Her eyes were shooting sparks again; only this time they were directed at him.

“What’s my name, wife?”

“Please, don’t call me that. I too have a name, as you well know.”

Drawing her closer, her breasts pressing against the breadth of his chest and cresting the edge of her bodice, he murmured, “Indeed, but Evangeline sounds . . . angelic, and we both know you’re no such thing.”

“Pardon?” She stiffened, trying to shove away from him. “I don’t under—”

His head descended again. “Say it, or I’ll trace your ear with my tongue.”

He grinned as her breath hissed from between clenched teeth. She stumbled, her fingers digging into his shoulder and hand. A very becoming flush swept across her face.

“Will you cease?” Her worried gaze careened around the room. “We’re being watched.”

Voice husky, he said, “Say my name, sweeting.”

Giving her a gentle squeeze, he started to dip his head, caressing her elegant neck with his hot breath.

“Ian, your name is Ian,” she gasped breathlessly, twisting her head away.

 Contact Collette

Website: http://collettecameron.com

Blog: http://www.blueroseromance.com

Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/collettecameronauthor

Facebook Book Page: http://facebook.com/viscountsvow

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Collette_Author

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/13595899-collette-cameron

She can also be found on WordPress, Tumblr, LinkedIn, and Google+

Buy Link

http://amzn.com/B00EZ8RBN2/

Thursday Threads with Char Chaffin

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Unsafe Haven

UNSAFE HAVEN

By Char Chaffin

Genre:  Romantic Suspense

Heat Level:  Sensual

Excerpt:

“Ah, Christ. You’re killing me.” He fumbled for the nearest wall, propped her against it, and took her mouth hungrily. She fisted her hands in his hair, nipping his full bottom lip. The kiss went deeper, and she could have sobbed from the glory of it.

They broke apart, both panting. Kendall slowly unwound her legs and Denn loosened his hold, letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. She felt every hard muscle along the way.

“Hell.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to leave you here.”

“I’ll be all right,” Kendall lied. She wanted him to stay, wanted him in her bed, all night, and then she wanted to awaken in the morning, safe in his arms. They’d known each other less than two months, and she wanted forever.

I must be crazed with lust. That’s the only explanation.

“You know, you don’t have to stay here alone.” He caressed her cheek as he gazed at her, still pressed intimately against her. “You could come home with me.”

“Eventually I have to live here, Denn. By myself. I have to get used to it,” she pointed out.

“But not tonight, okay? Come home with me, Kendall. Stay with me, tonight.”

“We’ll end up in bed together.” It was a question and a statement.

He slowly nodded. “Yeah.”

She whispered into his shirt, “We’ll end up making love.”

“I can just about guarantee it.”

Fascinated by the strong, steady pulse at the side of his neck, she shuddered to think of what lay ahead, if she said ‘yes.’ Most of the shudders were from excitement.

He waited patiently in her dimly lit store while she battled inner demons he might never understand or be able to accept.

“Kendall . . .” His voice held a rough plea.

She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his. “I should pack a few things.” She hesitated, and took the final plunge. “I’ll need my contact lens case, too.”

His smile, wide and happy, blinded her. “I can wait.”

Links:

Book Trailer for Unsafe Haven:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJieck3U17Y&feature=youtu.be

My website: http://char.chaffin.com

Facebook: http://facebook.com/char.chaffin

Twitter: http://twitter.com/char_chaffin

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5337737.Char_Chaffin

Soul Mate Publishing:  http://www.soulmatepublishing.com/char-chaffin/

Thursday Threads

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This week’s thread is by Becky Lower . . .

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BLAME IT ON THE BRONTES by Becky Lower

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Heat Level: Sensual

Three separate love stories intertwine around a central theme, as fractious sisters Charlotte, Emily and Anne Bronson, each in her forties, are in Puffin Bay, ME for their mother’s funeral. Each is ready to sink their claws into the fortune their mother left behind. But their mother has other plans. Her substantial fortune won’t be divided until the trio return to their childhood home and live together for a year. It’s a request that pits sister against sister but could unite them in a common goal to find the friendship they shared as children, to create a family jewelry business and to win over the men of Puffin Bay. They have a year to figure it all out.

Excerpt

Anne Bronson pressed her foot on the gas pedal, trying to ignore the little red light on the dashboard—the one highlighting the E on her gas gauge. She willed the rental moving truck to make it up the next hill, hunching over the steering wheel to help with the climb. No good gas-guzzling piece of crap. Anne directed the truck to the side of the road. There should have been plenty of fuel to get to the house.

If she hadn’t already maxed out her credit card, she would have gladly paid professionals to move her from New York to Maine. But here she was, driving her own belongings north, and out of gas. Her stomach knotted even tighter. She had an inheritance at stake. Eighteen minutes till midnight. Damn.

Hauling her purse behind her, she climbed out of the truck. She kicked a tire and let out a half-hearted scream at the damage her instinctive motion caused her black leather Manolo Blahniks. Tapping her fingernails against her teeth, she peered up and down the dark road. No headlights. No life. No sound.

She fished into her purse for her cell phone and stared at it. No signal, of course. With a deep sigh, she wrestled with her old suitcase with its wonky wheel and strapped her oversized purse across her body as she began to climb the rest of the way up the incline. Two miles to the house. She had eighteen minutes to get there. In six-inch heels.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/beckylowerauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeckyLower1

Blog: http://beckylowerauthor.blogspot.com

Website: http://www.beckylowerauthor.com

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/authorbeckyl/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Blame-Brontes-ebook/dp/B00CLVACYA

Soul Mate: http://www.soulmatepublishing.com/blame-it-on-the-brontes/