Today, I, along with Goddess Fish Promotions, am excited to be a stop on the “Blurb Blitz Tour” for Breathless Press. There are six new books for you to check out, so there should be something for everyone! The covers are eye-catching, and the blurbs give us just enough to whet our appetite for more of a good story. Also, one commenter will be randomly selected to receive a $20 Breathless Press Gift Card at the end of the tour. Before getting to the “blurbs”, I want to share a bit of information about the publisher of these fresh reads, Breathless Press.
Breathless Press is an e-book publisher specializing in Romance and Erotic(a) stories.
Our mission statement is simple: To provide the opportunity for readers to connect with romance authors through the purchasing of quality e-books at a low price.
Starting in the summer of 2009, Breathless Press came into existence. Since then, we have been producing top end romance and erotic stories for valued readers to enjoy.
Breathless Press is an electronic publisher of paranormal, erotic, and mainstream romance, releasing one to three e-books a week in a variety of downloadable formats. It is Breathless Press’ mission to provide readers with quality romance books in electronic formats and to raise the standard in e-publishing.
Now, grab something to sip on, and enjoy this “Blurb Blitz” with me (and don’t forget to leave a comment to be in the running for the $20 GC)!
In animal rescue, no story ever has a happy beginning, but can they have a happy end?
Working animal rescue is never pretty, and not all animals get that perfect ending. Follow the stories of some amazing animals who not only had a rough life, but beat the odds and found complete contentment. Kittens, dogs, and even a bobcat fill these pages with their true “tails” of being rescued and getting that second chance.
“I can’t spay my cats,” the woman protested, her arms crossed as she glared at us. “They are a source of income for me.
“With all due respect, none of your cats are purebred. They are just regular, domestic shorthairs. How are you making a profit off them?” My coworker stared down at her. I studied her expression while waiting for her answer. My coworker had made a very good point and I was just as curious as he as to what her answer would be. She was starting to fiddle with the rings that encircled her fingers. That was never a good sign. It was evident she was afraid to tell us what was really going on. In an effort to break the wall I could see forming, I pointed to the containers. “Are you into quilting or something like that?”
Her expression brightened and she scurried over to one of the shelves. “No, no,” she exclaimed as she pulled a container off the shelf. “Look inside.”
I approached the container and discovered several small snakes within. Albino corn snakes, to be exact. “Ah, you keep snakes?”
Snakes didn’t frighten me and now I knew what the musty smell was. My gaze traveled over the shelves once more as I tried to estimate the number of snakes she had. I counted at least forty containers, but I had no idea how many snakes she had in each.
“I breed them,” she stated proudly. “I breed pythons too, but those are in the back room.”
“May we see?” my coworker asked.
She nodded and led us to a back room. It was very clean with several large, aquarium-type containers set up. I counted about five pythons total. Each was lengths that I found fascinating and frightening. I said snakes don’t bother me. What I meant was snakes who can’t kill me don’t bother me. Some of them certainly had the size to make me question the safety of myself, and her children. One had a nice little bulge from a recent meal.
That’s when I saw the kitten…
Not His Territory by Annabeth Leong
Werewolf investigator Raul Silva has always followed orders, but the latest might be one too many. Can he really resist his target’s hot ex-wife?
After a devastating encounter with an illegally shifted werewolf, a wounded Raul Silva slumps on Chandra Williams’s doorstep, begging for refuge. As an investigator for the legalistic Werewolf Council, Raul’s been sent to look into instability in the local pack. Chandra’s presence makes him want to succeed at his mission for personal — not professional — reasons.
The Werewolf Council disapproves. Chandra is strictly off-limits for Raul according to both the traditions and laws of the werewolves. But after a life devoted to upholding principles, Raul’s instincts and desires are boiling to the surface. Can Raul resist Chandra, or will he break with everything he stands for to pursue a woman who is not his territory?
“Can I take off his marking? I’m glad it kept you safe, but I’m not his territory. It’s not his house. I pay for it.”
Raul’s eyes took on a strange weight. Chandra shivered, too aware of his body. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Why isn’t it? I can buy spray paint and cover up his mark.”
“A territory dispute must be resolved on the full moon in the ancient way.”
“The ancient way?”
“A challenge. A battle for control. It’s done in fully shifted form.”
“Well, I’m not a werewolf. What am I supposed to do?”
“We’re set up to be self-policing. Your ex shouldn’t be behaving the way he is. Marriages to humans are somewhat frowned upon and are supposed to be done with full knowledge and consent on the part of the human. This obviously wasn’t how he did it with you, since you know nothing of our customs. A human has good reason to be wary of marrying one of us, though. Werewolf law often resorts to the ancient way for final arbitration. A human is at a disadvantage in any dispute with one of us. It’s much easier when we keep to ourselves.” Both of Raul’s hands gripped the tablecloth now. Chandra wondered what part of this upset him so much.
“So you’re saying he shouldn’t have married me.”
“Not if he planned to treat you this way.” Raul’s voice came out as a snarl.
“I mean, because it breaks werewolf law.”
“It’s not that a werewolf can’t be with a human,” Raul said. His emphasis on the words “be with” sent a chill down her inner thighs. “It just needs to be done properly.” Now Chandra grabbed her own handful of tablecloth. She needed to figure out how to get free of her ex, not become distracted wondering what Raul would consider the “proper” way to be with a human.
“Okay, well.” Chandra’s voice shook. She forced herself to look at a spot on the wall beyond Raul. If she looked directly at the man, she’d be off on another fantasy before she knew what hit her. “Since that’s water under the bridge at this point, isn’t there any way to dispute his claim on my house?”
Raul’s hand brushed hers. Chandra jumped. “Another werewolf could dispute on your behalf. I could do that for you. If you wanted. I owe you my life as it is.”
Chandra waited for him to move his hand away. He did not. She went on speaking anyway, despite the bolts of arousal shooting through her lower belly. “And what then? Am I—I mean, my house—is my house your territory if you win?” Her arms trembled. The idea of being his territory sounded medieval to her brain, but her body loved it. Enough that she involuntarily crossed her legs and squeezed them together, further igniting the heat between her thighs.
“In theory,” Raul said slowly. “I suppose so. In practice, only if you want it to be.” He smiled. “I’m a werewolf, not a caveman.”
Alpha Chase by SJ Thomas
A terrible command, a brutal contest, and two wolves fighting for everything they hold dear. On the night of the Chase who will triumph?
When ordered to take a mate by the senior council of the pack, Alpha Lyssa Reine must obey—even though she knows she will lose her position and power if she submits to a male.
Although she has long desired her trusted Beta Brendt, Lyssa refuses to give up everything she has fought for and sets the challenge of the Chase; a violent, brutal contest for her and her title.
On the night of the Chase, Brendt makes a fateful choice. As the contest begins he and Lyssa must battle their mutual desire as they decide what they want and how far they will go to get it.
The click of the door opening brought her out of her wallowing, and she moved forward, hope and relief building inside her that it was Brendt. As soon as she stepped into the hall, she went cold.
It was Brendt and he was alone, but he stank of alcohol and female arousal. Jealousy, dark and terrible jealousy, made her hands shake and her teeth grind together. Her wolf snarled inside her head.
“So you found some tail to lift?” Lyssa cringed at how shrewish she sounded, but she couldn’t help it.
At her words Brendt’s brows furrowed, and his lips tightened into an angry line. “What does it matter to you if I did? You told me to go find someone who wanted me.” His tone was harsh, his words slightly slurred.
Shit. Brendt could out-drink a whale, so how much had he had?
Lyssa’s mouth opened, then closed. The best thing for Brendt was for him to believe she didn’t care so he had a chance to move on. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter to me, and you’re a big wolf. You can take care of yourself.”
A grimace marred his handsome features, and his hands clenched. Ignoring the hurt she saw in his eyes Lyssa forced herself to move, walking away from him and up to the cold bed he’d taunted her about earlier.
She’d nearly reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard a pained growl behind her. Before she could react, Brendt caught hold of her and pulled her against him—and he wasn’t being gentle.
“God damn it, Lyssa. I tried to go with another female, wanted to, but I couldn’t. It’s you or no one for me, don’t you understand?”
Lyssa’s heart swelled with warmth and relief, but she couldn’t let the ice melt for him. “Then I’m sad for you, Brendt, because you won’t get me. No one will.”
He tightened his arms around her for a second; every one of her nerves focused on the contact between them, before she was lifted and spun to the side. Brendt shoved her against the wall and forced her arms up above her head, his left hand locked around her wrists.
Not wanting to hurt him Lyssa struggled half heartedly, trying to twist out of his grip, but he held her too tightly, and when his other hand moved down her front and slid into her shirt, she didn’t want to escape him. Brendt’s firm fingers found her nipple and started to tweak and tease, ramping up her constantly simmering arousal.
“Brendt, stop, we can’t.” She gasped.
“Yes, we can. You need this, Lyssa. Please just let me give you this.”
The “please” did it. Brendt was asking her, which meant she had the control, despite how he held her. Provided it didn’t go any further than touching, she wouldn’t have submitted to him.
“All right but just this,” she whispered and then relaxed against him, leaning her head back against his chest. A very satisfied, and very sexy, male sound rumbled out of him as he pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of fire which made her shudder and gasp again. Lyssa could already feel herself getting wet, her body readying for him, and as his fingers skillfully worked her nipple, she wanted his hands lower.
He stopped kissing her neck and brought his mouth up to her ear, the feel of his breath causing a new range of sensations to flicker across her skin. “Tell me what you want Lyssa, give me my orders.” His voice was a husky growl, and her alpha panted in response. Dominance got her alpha hot, and Brendt was giving her that.
“Touch me, Brendt. Make me come.”
“My pleasure.” He growled before he caught her earlobe with his teeth.
All in the Game by R. Ann Siracusa
An author and physicist, trapped in a futuristic video game, must work together to win, but the artificial intelligence controlling the game has different goals.
Shauna Evans, a romance author with problems maintaining relationships with men, agrees to help her agent’s family friend write a video game to appeal to the women’s market. Shauna soon discovers that the friend, Donlyn Kennedy, isn’t the nerd she imagined—actually, he’s kind of cute—and is a physicist doing research with new virtual reality and artificial intelligence technologies.
When testing the game in a simulator, Shauna and Don are transported physically into the imaginary game world, far in the future in a distant galaxy, where they exist as lead characters in the video game. To get back to their own reality, they must work cooperatively to win the game from the inside. A daunting task when they find themselves as leaders on opposite sides of a military conflict, not to mention dealing with an artificial intelligent unit, with a crush on Shauna, that has a different agenda.
Okay. Here goes. I lowered the stereoscopic eyepiece.
Awesome! Now it seemed as though I huddled on the cliff. Cool moist air dampened my cheeks. I put down one hand to balance myself on the soft ground, and dirt and wet grass stuck to my palm.
As I watched the shoreline, flat, sleek submarine tanks forced their way to the surface of the sea like huge alligators, and then sprouted wheels and glided onto the beach. The low rumble of their engines hummed in my ears, and the ground vibrated.
This virtual reality technology is amazing.
Unexpectedly, my eyepiece filled with jagged blue lights slashing back and forth across my line of vision. “Oh!”
Before the cry of surprise left of my mouth, the blue lightning dimmed into wiggly lines of static. After that, everything turned gray.
Staring into the colorless fog, I shifted in the seat. “Don, did you see that? Everything flashed blue and my eyepiece went blank.”
Don’s voice came from beside me, not through the helmet speakers. “I saw it, but that’s not part of the game. There must be a malfunction somewhere.”
I reached up to lift the eyepiece and stopped. “No, wait. My picture’s coming back. I think—”
Zing. A projectile skimmed through the air inches above my head.
“Yikes.” I tried to throw myself prone, but something wedged against my side kept me from dropping. The arm of the seat. Between the sounds of laser fire and distance cries, I still heard the faint grinding of the simulator’s air conditioner. “Don?”
“I’m right next to you.” He patted my arm, but his voice sounded unsteady. Not reassuring in the least. “There’s something strange going on. I don’t know what.”
Smoke burned my eyes, making them water, and clogged my chest. I coughed.
Zing. Zing. More bolts of pure energy whizzed past, so close they seemed to disturb the air and ruffle my hair. Unable to feel Don’s hand anymore, I hunkered lower.
“This is too real.”
Another explosion threw me to the ground, the impact forcing the air out of my lungs. I collapsed face down in the wet grass. Red spots danced in my eyes. Adrenaline tingled through my body. Ugh. I spit out a bug.
Warning bells sounded in my head. Danger. Danger. I have to get out of here.
I scrambled to my feet, then ran, moving from bush to tree to rock, taking cover wherever I could. The weight of my body armor slowed me, my boots stuck in the soft earth and sucked me down. I felt like a sitting duck. A target. The lightweight assault weapons I carried were no match against lasers, sonic blasters, and plasma cannons.
As I dodged between trees and brush, a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed my ankle.
“Eek!” Shrieking, I plunged into a trench and slid to the bottom on my butt.
“Shh. You’ll give us away,” Don whispered. “This isn’t the way I programmed the game. I need some time to figure it out what’s wrong.”
“Don?” I blinked my eyes, and my jaw slackened into flycatcher mode for a moment. The man beside me had to be Don, but he looked…different. With his hair buzzed, his face seemed leaner, more masculine, the stubbornness and strength in his jaw more prominent. In the camouflage uniform, he looked muscular and strong. And no thick glasses.
This was Dangerous Don, the-Delicious-and-Dreamy. The game character. But he seemed so real. I touched his hand.
Warm textured flesh. He was real.
I jerked my hand away and hollered. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know. But you don’t have to shout.”
His voice sounded the same. Cool, analytical, and distant, as though he was lost in thought. Still all genius, all physicist. Deeper in tone, perhaps, but Don’s voice without a doubt.
I shook my head to clear it. Where am I? Who am I? My heart thumped against my rib cage like a trapped bird. Shauna. I’m Shauna.
But which Shauna?
Destruction of the Great Wall: Tour Director Extraordinaire, Book 3 by R. Ann Siracusa
I’m Harriet Ruby, Tour Director Extraordinaire. At last, one of my fondest wishes has come true! Will Talbot, my favorite Super Spy and the love of my life, wants to include me in his covert mission to recover a list of double agents for the US government.
Wow! Usually, I want to know everything, and he can’t tell me anything. Now, I’ll be part of the action. I am so-o going to love this!
Not that I have a big role. I only have to pretend we’re husband and wife when he accompanies me on my China tour. The tour group members are strangers we’ll never see again, and we can spend three intimate weeks together.
I mean, how hard can that be?
Surprise, surprise! My parents show up on the tour as replacements for some cancellations. Now, we have to lie and tell them we’re married to protect Will’s cover. And then, other problems erupt when someone tries to kill me and terrorists kidnap me and my mother to lure Will into a trap. Not to mention the damage my assault rifle does to the Great Wall…
Oh, man. It wasn’t my fault. Really!
“Get down!” Will yelled over his shoulder. He fired off a six-shot burst as he dropped prone into the tall grass and out of sight. There was no other cover here—nowhere else to go.
Oo-kay, Harriet Ruby, this is no time to lose your cool. I dove onto my stomach after him, but not before I took a heavy, painful blow to the chest.
“Aii!” My body slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Mud splattered across my goggles.
With all the air whooshed out of my lungs, I couldn’t breathe and lay there gasping for oxygen. I couldn’t think.
Three projectiles whizzed past my head in rapid succession.
Ohmigod! Time to get out of here. Vision impaired, I scrambled in the direction I thought Will had gone. Digging my elbows and knees into the ground, I dragged my body on my stomach through the wet grass, my automatic weapon clutched in both hands in front of me.
Where could he be?
My heart pounded against my ribcage. Sharp pain stabbed through me with each ragged breath. My aching hands knotted around my rifle. Black dots cavorted in front of my eyes and everything had fuzzy edges. I sucked in a big gulp of air—along with it a small bug.
“Aah-ugh!” I tried to spit it out but already the critter fluttered its wings in my throat.
Coughing, I buried my face against my arm to muffle the sound. Before I could stop hacking, a hand grasped my ankle and pulled me into a pit behind a bunker.
“Eek!” I smashed down on top of a warm body. A nice hard, well-muscled body. One I recognized by touch and scent. “You did that on purpose.”
“Shh.” Will waited long enough for both of us to relish our position, then rolled me off onto my rear end.
I pulled away and sat up, and then collapsed with my back against the dirt wall of the ditch. He studied me for a long moment—although I couldn’t see his expression through the protective gear—then pulled some sort of spy instrument out of his backpack and fiddled with it.
Damn these grim-faced, efficient, military types. At least today he didn’t have a razor-sharp crease in his camos. Shaking my head, I reached up to wipe the grime off my face with my sleeve. “Ow!”
Will crouched behind the bunker, peering into the tool, which now looked like a small periscope. He whipped around.
“You’ve been hit.” His tight voice conveyed alarm.
Jeez, did he need to lighten up, or what?
I flipped up the visor of my helmet and threw down my automatic Spyder MR2, sending it rattling to the ground.
“Right. And it hurts like the devil.” I stared down at the damp red stain on the front of my shirt.
The Best Man’s Bridesmaid, Ladies of London, Book 2 by Raven McAllan
Red hair, red dress, and a temper to match. Charlie had his work cut out to persuade Caroline they were the perfect couple.
What a difference a year makes.
Charlie remembered his fiance as dull and dowdy, not the glowing vivacious woman confronting him.
It’s not just her looks that have changed, so has her attitude. Caroline won’t put up with anything less than the best.
It’s up to Charlie to prove that’s him.
“Open carriages. It’s March not June. And it’s bloody freezing.” In his agitation, he forgot that he was addressing a lady, and had hoped for an open carriage to contain his ardor. But in this weather? “Thank God for the rug. Or my balls would freeze off. And your nipples are so standing out so stiffly, if I tou…Oh b… I mean … ” he trailed off before causing any more offence than he thought he must already have. Instead he tucked the rug around her legs. To his amazement she just laughed and rearranged it to cover both of them from the waist down.
“It still won’t stop my nipples from standing out so stiffly,” she remarked as she took hold of his hand under the cover. “Though as you can’t touch them, they will neither warm up or be tweaked off.” She chuckled. “Oh Charlie, you should see your face. Have I shocked you?” He smiled. “Not at all, my dear. Pleased, surprised, happy and amazed, but not at all shocked. You obviously have hidden depths. I look forward to discovering what you will say or do next.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you said that.” Her hand, soft and somewhat chilled squeezed his. “But I feel I must reassure you that whatever I seem to know there has only been, and will only ever be you for me, or in me.” She released the hand that she had put in his, and waved with her hand still above the rug to the cheering crowd standing on the side of the street. As the carriage drove around a corner he felt her use her nimble fingers on the placket on his pantaloons.
Charlie found it hard to contain his pleasure. Was this really the same girl he had become engaged to? This sexy, sensual, arousing, vivacious creature, with glorious auburn tresses reaching to her waist, and a glowing clear complexion and? Her green eyes twinkled with mischief as she stared up at him. As she undid his buttons—where on earth had she learned how to do that so deftly, so swiftly, and with only one hand—she smirked and almost as an afterthought allowed his throbbing prick to spring free of its confines. His head swam. What was that she had been saying about only ever been his? He couldn’t think straight.
The Caroline he remembered had dull brown hair, a muddy complexion and had—would—never ever show any signs of vivacity. He shuddered, as her small hands began to stroke and caress his ever-hardening cock, and wondered if he really had tried to learn just who she was? He thought not. And then stopped thinking and just felt.
Wow! I found more than one I want to read. How about you? Thanks for stopping by!