AUDIOBOOK RELEASE: Engage by Drew Elyse

We are thrilled to be sharing the audiobook release of Drew Elyse’s ENGAGE with you today! ENGAGE is the third standalone in the Savage Disciples MC series and MC romance lovers are going to want to get their hands on this one!

About ENGAGE

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

They came for her in the night.
When she wakes, she’s in a cell.
She has no idea if it will help, but it is the only option she has:
She tells them she belongs to the Savage Disciples MC.

A Disciple will fight like a savage when it counts.

Years ago, he lost everything.
Now, the club is the only thing Jager allows himself to care about.
Nothing matters but his Savage Disciple brothers.
At least, until she arrives and he has a decision to make.

This biker has no idea what choosing to engage could mean to a Disciple's daughter.

Add ENGAGE to your Goodreads TBR!

Listen to a sample from the ENGAGE audiobook here!

Grab your copy of ENGAGE on audiobook today!
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About DREW ELYSE

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and sexy romance novels.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found analyzing every line of a book, binge watching shows on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing in a variety of musical styles, or screaming at the TV during Chicago Blackhawks games.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago, she still lives outside Chicago, IL, where she was born and raised, with her boyfriend and her fur babies Lola and Duncan.

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BLOG TOUR: Heath by K Webster and Nikki Ash

Heath

by K Webster and Nikki Ash

Publication Date: October 25, 2018

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited: 

 Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA

A modern telling of a classic tale...

This isn’t a typical love story. This is a story of what happens when love is so powerful and all-consuming that it has the ability to destroy everyone involved. It’s definitely not pretty and it’s certainly not a fairytale, but it’s their story and it couldn’t be told any other way.

I think sometimes when things get super hyped up it’s hard to live up to something so high. I was jonesing like an addict for Heath... I couldn’t sleep, I had the sweats, my heart raced... ok, ok, I’m exaggerating a bit but I was really pumped to read this story, so you get what I’m sayin’. Imagine my surprise when I kept falling asleep through the first section. I mean, this is K. Webster for goodness sake! My mouth is normally hanging open during her books not nodding off. However, I hung in and ever so slowly it got better and better. I guess I should mention that I haven’t read a Nikki Ash book before this one so I’m not really sure I could pin-point where one author stops and the other begins but to me that just shows that they worked well together. It also makes me curious of Nikki’s books since I always enjoy the way K. Webster tells her stories.

The second part of Heath was the best section of the book for me. It sucked me in just like I was hoping all along for. No longer was I nodding off. Now, this is going to be an odd statement for me, I love the way K. Webster brings the most outlandish thing to her story. They seem to get crazier and more deranged the longer she writes. However, I almost felt like the authors were trying to one-up each other on the sexy scenes. It seemed like there was a good chunk of the book where storyline was lacking and sex was all there was. Now, I’m no prude. I love me a good sexy dirty scene just like the other erotica, romance lovers but, I do want a bit more story with my sex.

I know, if you’re reading this review you’re thinking well why the hell is she giving it 4 stars? It wasn’t all a bad story, not in the least. Those were the bits off for me. Catrina and Heath were really interesting characters and I really enjoyed seeing them grow and evolve over the years. I enjoyed the blending of the classic Wuthering Heights into Heath. The writing was flawless and descriptive... so much more descriptive than I needed in some areas. Overall, it was a bit hit or miss for me personally... some areas I loved super hard and some I disliked a lot! I’d still recommend Heath to certain people.

I received an ARC of this book with the hope that I would leave an Unbiased Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my opinions are just that... my opinions.

About K. Webster

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads | Newsletter

About Nikki Ash

Nikki Ash resides in South Florida where she is an English teacher and mom by day and a writer by night. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in her hand. From the Boxcar Children to Wuthering Heights to the latest Single Parent Romance, she has lived and breathed every type of book.

Reading is like breathing in, writing is like breathing out. – Pam Allyn

While reading and writing are her passions, her two children are her entire world. You can probably find them at a Disney park before you would find them at home on the weekends!

Website | Blog | Reader Group | Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter

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RELEASE DAY: Whiskey Renegade by HJ Bellus

WHISKEY RENEGADE by HJ Bellus is LIVE on AMAZON!

Also available on KU: Amazon US | Amazon Universal


Add it to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

We used to be kings on top of the world, but it all went to hell...


My money and power are worthless.

All I want is blood bathing my knuckles, their soulless bodies bead at my feet.

I've never felt the need to take someone's life until now.

They will pay.


I will sacrifice everything to protect my family.

To save the beauty that's been haunting my dreams.

I don't even know her, but the fear dancing in her eyes will be my worst nightmare.


It's a game of death, and I'm all in.

One Click: Amazon US | Amazon Universal

I really wish I had realized this was a book 2 in the Whiskey series. I’ve read Whiskey & You but it’s been a while and I would have liked to refresh my mind a bit. However, that is all on my lap and has nothing to do with the author or even my rating because, again, my fault. So anyway, it took me a bit to get in the mindset of this story and refresh Kemp in my head. He’s a lot more lethal than I recall him being. I might have struggled a bit liking him. I understood his reasoning but, I don’t know, he was dark and hard… like really hard. I do like my alphas with a bit more of a softer side to them, but again, that’s my preference.

However, let me tell you, HJ Bellus pulls out all the emotional stops and likes to play with your heart. I was a bit surprised with how dark Bellus went. This might just be her darkest story. She did take a real-world problem and bring it into fiction with fantasies we’d all like to have really happen. You know, the stories where the good guys always win and the bad guy always rot in hell. Even with all the dark, all the deep; Bellus was able to make this a well-rounded storyline. It was an emotional story.

I received an ARC of this book with the hope that I would leave an Unbiased Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my opinions are just that... my opinions.

Add to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

MEET THE AUTHOR:

HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shotgunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.

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EXCERPT REVEAL: Whiskey Renegade by HJ Bellus

WHISKEY RENEGADE by HJ Bellus releases on October 23rd!

Pre-Order Available: Amazon US | Amazon Universal


Add it to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

We used to be kings on top of the world, but it all went to hell...


My money and power are worthless.

All I want is blood bathing my knuckles, their soulless bodies bead at my feet.

I've never felt the need to take someone's life until now.

They will pay.


I will sacrifice everything to protect my family.

To save the beauty that's been haunting my dreams.

I don't even know her, but the fear dancing in her eyes will be my worst nightmare.


It's a game of death, and I'm all in.

Pre-Order: Amazon US | Amazon Universal



Add to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

EXCERPT REVEAL:

There’s dirt embedded under my nails. My skin is coated in sweat and my clothes are filthy. I’ve slept very little while cracking the code of the southern cartel and Jordan’s family. I’ve found the people he’s crossed and am building a master plan to bring down all of his loved ones.

Emerald eyes and swirling raven hair haunt my sleep when it comes. Rose. Her slender arm sliding through my grasp and me not being able to save her will always and forever be my demon. Hell, I don’t know her from a stranger on the street. All I do know is she’s being held against her will.

It doesn’t go unnoticed that I gave J.J. hell for years for being a saver, and here I sit in a cockroach-infested hotel in Mexico, risking my life for a woman I don’t even know. It’s so much more than that…I hunger to save them all, rid the world of evil, and I won’t stop until it’s done. Whether my heart is beating or dead, I will get the job done.

The woman between my legs bobs her head up and down my hard dick. I grasp the back of her head, guiding her up and down, waiting for my enemies to bust in. It’s an intoxicating sensation: the anticipation, the exhilaration of passion, and the immediate danger looming all around me.

The door to the stale hotel room swings open, clanging off the wall and leaving a hole in the cheap plaster where the doorknob careened into it. Five gun barrels face me, coupled with words firing in every direction in Spanish. I take a sip of my whiskey neat with my free hand and smile back at the slimy bastards.

“Game on, fuckers.”

MEET THE AUTHOR:

HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shotgunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.

SIGN UP FOR THE AUTHOR'S NEWSLETTER

AMAZON | WEBSITE | GOODREADS | FACEBOOK | TWITTER

FACEBOOK READER GROUP

HOSTED BY:

COVER REVEAL: Whiskey Renegade by HJ Bellus

WHISKEY RENEGADE by HJ Bellus releases October 23rd!

Add it to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

Cover Designer: Deranged Doctor Design

Photographer: Golden Czermak, FuriousFotog

Cover Model: Jake Wilson

We used to be kings on top of the world, but it all went to hell...


My money and power are worthless.

All I want is blood bathing my knuckles, their soulless bodies bead at my feet.

I've never felt the need to take someone's life until now.

They will pay.


I will sacrifice everything to protect my family.

To save the beauty that's been haunting my dreams.

I don't even know her, but the fear dancing in her eyes will be my worst nightmare.


It's a game of death, and I'm all in.

Add to your TBR http://bit.ly/WhiskeyRenegadeTBR

Read book 1, Whiskey & You (standalone) for FREE for a limited time: https://amzn.to/2NU2sJy

MEET THE AUTHOR:

HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shotgunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.

SIGN UP FOR THE AUTHOR'S NEWSLETTER

AMAZON | WEBSITE | GOODREADS | FACEBOOK | TWITTER

FACEBOOK READER GROUP

HOSTED BY:

BLOG TOUR: Salt by Mara White

Amazon

Salana Livingston did everything right, from taking her multi-vitamin to kneeling before bed to say her prayers every night. She followed the path her parents had planned before she was born, never questioned the role until the day a bus-load of sweaty kids from the Bronx got dropped at her parent’s horse farm.

Tiago Alcazar knew a life of hard knocks. An incarcerated father, a missing and strung-out mother who left him to rely on his aged grandmother for most of his life.

Tiago runs the mean streets of the neighborhood that raised him, living hand-to-mouth, everyday a gift, if he can just make it.

Burdened by a world that only wants to see her as perfect, Salana finds her greatest confidant in a boy society has labeled as worthless. Their paths cross too many times for their stubborn hearts to deny the connection, but can the delinquent and the debutant defy the odds and overcome the social constructs that condemn them?

I haven’t read a Mara White book that she’s written alone before. I’ve read a few with Ms. White co-writting with K. Larsen. Those books always blow me away. So I wasn’t surprised that this book was all-consuming. It was like a compulsion and I had to finish… except when I needed a break for my poor heart! I’ll warn you… this book was emotional. It seriously made me cry, it make me feel. It also made me chuckle and laugh out loud at some of Taigo’s quick wittedness. 

Ms. White gives us some really strong characters. I adored them and their differences. I mean, we have the age ol’ love equation… the good girl meets her bad boy and life is altered… like changes. Get your big girl panties on for this book! We’re gonna take a walk through a field of emotions and some of them hurt!

I received an ARC of this book with the hope that I would leave an Unbiased Opinion. I was not required to leave a review, positive or otherwise, and my opinions are just that... my opinions.

Part I
Intro
Tiago

Fresh Air Fund, New York City 2008


​Santiago had never left the city, unless you counted New Jersey. The school bus was sweltering and the chaperones hollered every time somebody cracked a window. Luckily, he and Chico were in the very last seat so there were too many infractions to bother with—the adults couldn’t even make it all the way to the back to reprimand them. Chico expertly spat sunflower seed shells out their very open window. He had silver braces and gold chains, a fade haircut and a perpetual pubescent mustache that he had yet to devirginize with a Bic razor.
Tiago shaved even though he didn’t need to; he was the man of the house. His pops had been locked up for years, even before he passed away, and Tiago had inherited his menagerie of grooming supplies and jewelry: a gold crucifix and bracelet, an old watch, a wallet-size laminated card of La Altagracia from the Cathedral of Santa María la Menor, his social security card, a can of Barbasol, a shoebox full of faded photos where some of the faces were scratched out with a pin, and a couple hundred dollars in cash. A legacy that didn’t even fill up half a box, but a reputation bad enough to declare Tiago a menace by the time he was four. He wore and used all of his inheritance, not only to feel closer to his father, but to approximate the manhood he was forced into too early.
​Chico had an iPod and headphones he’d snuck along on the trip; the kid didn’t go anywhere without music, constantly sang radio songs in Spanish. He’d sometimes do hilarious impressions that made Tiago lose his shit. He and Chico took turns murmuring the lyrics to reggaetón songs that narrated the kind of life they both lived. Being raised off and on by their grandmothers wasn’t the only thing they had in common. Parents incarcerated, living in the projects, no plausible out for their lives except dreams of professional baseball or rapper stardom. Chico always said he’d join the Marines, while Tiago instead dreamed of seeing the world on his own terms, maybe by backpacking or hitchhiking to California for starters. Money was always tight, food was scarce, and new clothes were a miracle from God el santísimo, himself. Chico and Tiago would sometimes rotate jeans just to freshen up their clothing game, which was pretty much already in the toilet. If Tiago ever got to see the world, he’d want to do it in some badass kicks. He’d rob a fucking bank if he had to someday to get himself some sneakers that were worth getting a beat-down trying to defend.
​Tiago wore his Yankees cap and an unbuttoned baseball jersey over a white tank top. His father’s watch and gold bracelet, a chain with a crucifix that dangled between his pecs. Cubic zirconia studs in his ears, which had been pierced by his mother when he was only three years old. His skin was dark and his maternal grandmother blamed it on his Dominican father. She said he would have been born with beautiful light skin had his deadbeat mother married a decent Puerto Rican or even a “gringuito,” if she were smart instead of una maldita, desgraciada, verguenza, or whatever insult of the day she felt the need to toss at her. She was old school, fell for that Caribbean obsession with whitening the race. Tiago didn’t pay much mind to the crazy shit she spouted. He liked his skin; it was dark in the summer, lighter in the New York City long-ass, dirty rain, gray skied winter. His drug addict mom was just as bad as his lying, cheating, stealing Dominican father, regardless of their skin colors, but he wasn’t keeping score. He wasn’t a saint, he’d be the first to admit—but he wasn’t taking no bad rap for something his pops did before he even took his first breath. His grandmother was the only consistent adult in his life who stayed out of trouble. So he let her complain; at least she kept him in food and underwear with a roof over his head and a mattress to fall on. Which was more than he could say for his mom and dad. They’d had him too young. They didn’t finish school. His dad got fired for the wrong reasons and it wasn’t his mother’s fault she’d gotten hooked on the bad shit and started turning tricks to feed her habit. He’d heard all the excuses. Tiago felt like people do the shit they gotta do in fucked-up situations. He didn’t judge, thought he probably wouldn’t have handled it any better if he were in their shoes. His hermano Chico’s family was similar, but he had two sisters and his mother took off and left with some guy who promised her a house with a pool in Vegas. What the fuck they gonna do? They were both sixteen years old. Stick it out. No sweat. Just chill. There were thousands of kids in the city who had it even worse off than they did.
But it was thanks to their paltry existence that they got into so many city-run programs. Their Fresh Air Fund trip today wasn’t being footed by their parents. Free trip to ride horses, lunch and snacks and on the way back to the Bronx, a stop-off at a local water park—all paid for by the city. Tiago and Chico made tiny paper airplanes out of the brochure for the Equestrian Farm they’d been given when they boarded the bus. They threw them into the back of an afro belonging to a kid sitting a few rows up. So far they’d each lodged one without the kid noticing and they laughed until they had tears in their eyes, the sound of their joy completely covered by the din of fifty excited kids and the wind rushing in the open windows as they tore south down 95.
​“Did you eat that girl Angelica’s pussy the other night?” he asked Chico as he tore paper for another plane.
​“Fuck yeah I did, and I couldn’t barely even get in her bra. Dumb bitch. But she shoved her cunt in my face like it was the all-you-can-eat buffet at the mall.”
​“You like her, you stupid fuck. You blush when you talk about her,” Tiago said. Chico punched his bicep hard and Tiago knew it would burn bright red. He also knew Chico was whipped and he was jealous. They’d bagged chicks before, bagged at their age meaning hit all the bases, but this thing with Angelica was getting serious. Chico had seen her at least a dozen times. He was afraid of losing his friend.
​“You gonna get pubes stuck in your braces if you eat so much pussy. Did she suck your dick yet?” Tiago asked. He knew it was a sore subject. Good. Helping himself to Chico’s seeds, he spilled half of them in the dip of the pleather seat between them.
​“No, but she jerked me off after I showed her how. She thought spit was gross so she used Ponds cold cream and my dick smelled like my grandma through at least three showers.”
Chico falling in love was disgusting, barely tolerable. Tiago elbowed him hard in the ribs. He wanted a girlfriend badly, but he would never let one of his boys know it if he’d gotten whipped. He knew how to treat girls so that they wouldn’t take advantage of you. Even his grandmother told him all women were gold diggers and they’d try to get pregnant just so they could spend a whole lifetime milking you for money. Grandma never told him not to have sex, she was practical and sharp, she told him to get his dick out before he got her pregnant and he still felt short of one hundred percent clear on how all that worked. He knew about condoms from Louie in his building who ripped them off from the drugstores. He once gave Tiago a lesson on how to put one on in the elevator, over a plantain from the bag which Tiago had bought for his grandmother at the bodega on the corner.
​“Pinch the end, so your jizz has some place to go. And if the pussy smells fishy, don’t put your dick in there in the first place. Best bet is in her mouth, or go in the back door if you don’t mind a little bit of clean-up. Give her the line about keeping her virginity and she’ll let you around the back, you’ll see.”
Tiago had been only twelve and although he thought most of the things Louie was telling him were suspect, he was still a rapt and captive audience. Louie then proceeded to tell him about gay men and to steer clear unless he wanted to volverse puto, as he put it. Tiago wasn’t positive, but it didn’t sound very plausible—then again, what did he know about gay men or buttholes? He didn’t have a dad or a big brother around to tell him how to get from A to B or even how to stay out of trouble. Louie drank forties all day, had two gold front teeth and could sing Guajira like nobody else. He lived alone but for a whole flock of pet birds, parrots, cockatoos, parakeets—you name it, it was screeching up in a cage in his apartment.
His grandmother sometimes made him bring the guy a plate of food. Louie would peel back the foil and inhale, salivate and smile. He’d jerk his chin for Santiago to come in. The floorboards were uneven but shiny as fuck. Louie kept a pretty neat apartment, considering he was a bachelor and always half drunk. Louie had a futon couch and it wasn’t covered by plastic, but it was covered in bird shit and Tiago always sat on it perched like a girl in Sunday school. It was over mouthfuls of beans and rice, with much gesturing from his fork, that Louie explained the ins and outs, the birds and bees, and most of the sexual education Tiago would get in his lifetime. The pretense was that he would stay and take the plate back up when Louie finished, and by that time he’d be halfway hard from imaging the things that Louie would lay out for him in graphic detail.
He’d lost his virginity when he was thirteen, to a friend of his mother’s. The lady had come by looking for his mom when Tiago and his grandmother hadn’t seen her in months. When his grandmother asked him to see her out, they took a short detour. She was drunk, gave him a beer and then sucked him off in the basement. He tore his nails gripping the over-painted, bumpy cement wall while he thrust into her pink lipstick-painted mouth. Her teeth were yellow and her breath smelled like cigarettes. But she was queen of the universe when she swallowed his cum, so much so that he almost wanted to kiss her. She didn’t know much about teenage boys and jerking off, because she thought after his first blowjob he’d be out for the night. But he was hard again before she’d wiped the saliva off of her lips.
“I want to stick it in you,” he’d said to her, his face open and curious.
She obliged him over a folding chair and the sagging dejected look of her vagina repulsed him—however, not quite enough to kill his boner. He’d desperately shoved himself in and out of her, with no rhythm or love, just lusty preteen madness and the story already buzzing past his lips to fly out on tomorrow’s school yard.
She’d groaned as the chair squeaked and Tiago wasn’t sure if the sounds meant pleasure or pain, but he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop and he baptized her pale and pancaked ass with another shot of his tender boyhood semen. His introduction to love hadn’t been the least bit romantic or even sensual, but it was a rush of panic and adrenaline unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He felt like a man as he pulled up his jeans and did his belt buckle. His pearly essence dripped into her butt crack and he felt like he’d accomplished something rather monumental. Maybe his father would be proud? Maybe not?
But none of that changed the fact that he’d never had a real girlfriend, or the fact that Chico did—his face was busted, but he still got one first, go figure. And not to mention, he was whipped and he liked it. Tiago couldn’t even imagine what sex would be like if you were into the person doing the giving or receiving. But Jesucristo, he wanted to find out. He’d take the baddest bitch in the Heights. He wouldn’t even care if she were ugly. He needed somebody to talk to.

Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

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