Blog Tour: Corporal Domination

Hey guys! I've got a tour stop today to show you guys, and I think you're going to like it! This one gets very, VERY steamy! That cover alone should give you a pretty good clue about what you're getting into!

Dominating a powerful man isn’t easy…
 Sometimes corporal punishment is needed
 Kade Thompson is sick and tired of working sixty-plus hours a week. After all, he’s only an accountant, not a surgeon. For many he’s considered powerful and a sought-after catch, yet he hasn’t obtained all he hungers for. However, earning a six-figure income has allowed him to indulge in his every desire, including toys and rather kinky bouts of sin. He also enjoys an on-again, off-again push-and-shove relationship with his boss, Trevor Willis. While the sex is passionate, he craves being dominated by the six foot six god, but Trevor doesn’t seem interested. Tired of playing games, he’s ready to break off their relationship until an invitation to meet for a drink at The Peeping Hole—a mysterious and very exclusive club—has him more than curious.
 When he finds out the club offers every aspect of kink, he’s breathless with excitement. As Kade waits for Trevor’s arrival, he’s given an offer he can’t refuse and one that might sate his every craving—if he will submit to the man behind the mask. Unfortunately what goes on behind the hallowed doors is required to stay a sensuous mystery. But can they keep up their end of the bargain and one forged in a touch of black magic? Only Alexander knows. Ssshhh… No peeping.
 I am Alexander—a teacher, a scoundrel, a voyeur and a true entrepreneur. In my world there’s little left to the imagination. That is if you dare to taste what only I can offer. Welcome to The Peeping Hole, where every fantasy you’ve ever desired will come true. Leave your inhibitions at the door and join us. But you must remember, whatever happens here stays here, and trust me, I will know…

As for my thoughts... wait a second, I need to fan myself first. While I didn't connect with the main characters as much as I was hoping for, the BDSM scenes were more than enough to make up for it! HOT AS HELL! Cassandre Dayne can write sex, guys. If you're at all into gay erotica then you need to look her up. I feel like I've been seeing her books all over the place lately, and I want to explore more!

BDSM isn't even usually my kind of thing, but I got so into this story it's not even funny. Once Trevor gets into exploring more adventurous sex with Kade, things get going pretty quickly. This book won't take oyu long to read, but you'll be so glad you did!

Purchase Links
Amazon:  http://amzn.com/B0106VPARA

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/corporal-domination-cassandre-dayne/1119637080?ean=2940151108584

iTunes:  https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/corporal-domination/id1010788788?mt=11

Tour Stop - The Silent Treamtnet by Melanie Surani

Blurb: Twenty-eight year old Katrina Jaitley is rebuilding her life after escaping an abusive boyfriend. The last thing she needs is the mystery she stumbles on during a bout of retail therapy. But she can't ignore the coil of film -- a piece of movie history -- she finds hidden inside her purchase. Unfortunately, Peter, the handsome host of the estate sale, disappears before Kat has a chance to return it to him. Curious, Kat watches the strip and is shocked to witness the brutal murder of a famous 1920's silent film star by a fellow actor. When a news article cites Kat as the film's owner, her already complicated life goes from bad to worse. Someone is stalking her. Are they trying to silence her or what she has discovered?

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An excerpt from The Silent Treatment

THE WORST PART about working the vampire shift was that apart from Bridget, Kat experienced little human interaction since moving back to Memphis. Bridget still had college buddies who she went drinking and sleeping with, two activities Kat thought better about participating in for the time being. That left Kat stuck either in front of the computer or TV, or in extreme cases, at the twenty‐four hour Walmart.

Solitude in those first two weeks after two years of limited privacy was a welcome relief in most respects. Kat left her belongings, however few, in the living room and returned to find them where she left them, not thrown in the trash. Her computer no longer had a keylogger, thanks to a few hours spent with Bridgetʹs IT savvy brother, and she was free to search whatever she wanted without fear of lecture afterward (Why were you looking at ticket prices? Are you thinking of leaving me?), Kat couldnʹt shake the feeling that someone was going to burst through the door. The baseball bat she kept under her bed wouldnʹt help if someone startled her in the living room.

After placing the Missed Connections ad online and praying Peter would respond, Kat surfed the Internet until her eyes burned. Since her mind was on the coiled piece of film sheʹd found and she desperately wanted to watch it, she focused instead on silent movies, her favorite escape subject.

Her interest began with a poor copy of Metropolis, recommended by a pen pal as being the best thing heʹd ever watched. The release date put her off since so many ʺclassicʺ movies her mom subjected her to involved fast‐talking pictures from the thirties. Three years before the decade change, the constant talkers were quiet, gestures theatrical, and Kat put her own inflection on the written dialogue.

She found a used copy of the novel on which Metropolis was based— written by the directorʹs wife—to fill in the gaps left by massive editing and plot restructuring that rendered the film nearly incomprehensible. Though historians and buffs wanted to experience what the film looked like on opening night, one‐fourth had either been lost or destroyed like so many of its silent brethren.

That was what made the news article on the computer screen stand out.

The complete three‐hour version of Metropolis was found in an unlabeled canister in the Museo del Cine, a film museum in Argentina.

Kat blinked at the screen. ʺAll that time.ʺ The butchered, washed out copy that lay buried somewhere in the box of movies sheʹd dragged to the middle of the living room wasnʹt the end of the story but the beginning. 

Promo: The Damnable Legacy

Lynn Van Swol still regrets the decision she made thirty years ago to place her daughter for adoption so she could climb the highest mountains of the world. Frankie Rizzoni is the troubled biological granddaughter Lynn has never known. And Beth Mahoney is a minister’s wife with terminal cancer and the only one who knows the relationship between the two. She designs a plan upon her deathbed to bring Lynn and Frankie together, but now, narrating from the afterlife, she must helplessly watch as her legacy threatens to unravel. The Damnable Legacy is a story about both love and survival, exploring the importance of attachment, place, and faith, and asking how far we should go to achieve our goals and at what cost.

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Blog Tour: Come Sit By Me

Hi guys! We've got an exciting tour stop today, last minute, but still awesome! Today we're featuring Come Sit By Me by Thomas Hoobler! Read about the book below, and then we can check out an excerpt from the book!

The boy who shot seven people in the school library is dead. But did his secrets die with him?

Something terrible happened at Hamilton High last year, and those who survived don't want to relive the past. But Paul has just arrived, and gets the same locker that the shooter used. He wants to know what really happened...and you know what curiosity did to the cat.

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We sat down on the ground. Leaves on the trees had already started to change color, and some had fallen, exposing the branches. “This is a good time to shoot birds,” North said. “They’re active, and they aren’t able to hide in the trees so easily.”
Apparently waiting was a big part of hunting. North had brought a couple of calls that were supposed to sound like turkeys. Sitting there doing nothing but blowing on one of them started to get boring. I felt like taking out my Blackberry and checking my email, but I didn’t think North would approve.
Suddenly, he squeezed my arm and then pointed toward one of the trees. Then I heard what sounded like scratching. North had noticed it before me. He raised his shotgun and aimed it in that direction. I still couldn’t see anything. Neither could he, evidently, because he didn’t fire.
Then a flash of red appeared from behind a tree. I saw it moving. North, who was aiming just over my left shoulder, fired. The noise practically deafened me, and I ducked instinctively.
“Got ‘im!” I heard him say. It sounded as if he was talking through cotton. My left ear was still ringing. North stood up and went over to the tree. The turkey was lying there. Picking it up by the neck, North brought it back to show me. It was bleeding from several wounds, but didn’t look as bad as I thought it might.
“How come it isn’t all torn up?” I asked.
“With a shotgun, the shot inside the shell gets dispersed the farther it goes,” he told me. “With a target as close as this bird, I couldn’t hardly miss. But only two or three of the shot actually hit him. Which is good, because if you want to use the meat, you have to dig out the shot. This is a tom, so it won’t be as good for eating anyway. You’ll see. Next one is yours.”
North picked up the dead turkey and put it in a cloth bag. He said that the noise we made would keep other birds in hiding for some time, so we walked farther into the woods till we found a new spot to sit. This time I paid more attention, because I was nervous. I told myself that I really didn’t give a shit if I killed a turkey or not. The damn turkeys never did anything to me. But I had this feeling gnawing away at my insides that I wanted to impress North.
Sitting there waiting, all sorts of thoughts went through my head. Was this what meditation was like? I had always heard that meditation was supposed to help empty your mind, calm you. But waiting to kill something--that was the opposite. You were focused. And actually holding a gun in my arms made me wonder just exactly what went through Cale’s mind when he killed those people.
Or was anything? Of course he had to be crazy, so what kinds of thoughts does a crazy person have? Did he just decide to do it, and it didn’t really matter who he killed as long as he killed somebody? Was he just going on auto-pilot by then? Or did he really have reasons?
What sort of reason could you have for killing seven people? I knew that Cale’s USB drive must have some kind of answer to that question, but--
North nudged me. “Down there,” he whispered, pointing.
I saw it. It was smaller and less colorful than the one North had shot. More gray than anything. Creeping along the ground about twenty yards away. I raised my shotgun, and it saw me. Looked right into my eyes. And then spread its wings and took flight. Without thinking about it, I raised the gun and fired. It had a lot harder kick than the rifle I’d used earlier. Maybe the kick made me shoot higher than where I’d originally been aiming. But the turkey’s wings stopped flapping and it fell to the ground.
“You got ‘im,” North said. “Beginner’s luck.”
I practically ran over to where it had fallen, and there it was, lying on the ground. I stooped over to get a better look. I had taken off both of its legs, and you could see its bloody insides. But the eyes were still open, shiny and black.
The next thing I knew North was slapping me on the back. “Not bad. I thought you’d flinch when you pulled the trigger,” he said.
I didn’t tell him I actually had flinched. I was looking at those black eyes. A feeling of power started to rise up in me from someplace. It surprised me.
A second ago, the turkey had been alive. Now it was dead. I did that.
I felt blood rushing through my head, behind my eyes. This was what it was like to kill. Cale had felt this way.
Only…a turkey wasn’t a person. If I had killed a real person, everything I was feeling now would be way more intense. You would feel so powerful that you would be like the king of the world. No matter how much people made fun of you.

Blog Tour: The Dark Side of the Rainbow

Hey guys! Really excited to share a very special blog tour stop with you today. I was recently approved for The Dark Side of the Rainbow by Rita Hogan on NetGalley, and am already halfway done with this book, and absolutely in love! Now, while I finish read, and then writing up my review (which, lets face it, sometimes takes me a while... doubly so when I love a book!), I get to share a snippet of it with all of you!

Two lives, forced together by past events and present choices, find themselves navigating through the murky waters of blame and desire.

Years have passed since Olivia Nelson’s brother’s fatal accident. The day Jacob died, she swore to impose penance upon Landon Gray, the one responsible for his death. Armed with a plan of retribution, Olivia transforms herself into Brooke Johnson, an up-and-coming photographer. She arrives in Argentina’s Patagonia, prepared to make the hospitality magnate pay for the life he destroyed.

Landon Gray has suffered greatly from his guilt, longing only to be forgiven for his harrowing mistake. After the accident, Landon fled Portland, Oregon to his family’s holdings in South America. Upon Brooke Johnson’s arrival at Landon’s resort, he is immediately drawn to the talented photographer.

When Olivia sees Landon again, she is pricked by shadows of doubt. Determined to see her meticulous planning come to fruition, she stays the course, until tragedy strikes once more.

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EXCERPT - The first thing Brooke noticed when she entered the old, beautifully restored building were the quiet sounds of a cello and piano playing in a choppy, peppery beat. It was a vibrant and heated use of the two instruments.

“What kind of music is that?” she asked Landon, as he handed their jackets to the person at coat check. He placed the ticket stub into the pocket of his khaki trousers, then reached for her hand before explaining.

“Tango. You’re in for a treat. In about an hour we’ll move to the atrium for a tango performance. There are a few well-known artists who live in the area who offered to provide the entertainment for the museum’s fund raiser event.”

Landon was right. Brooke was having a wonderful time. The exhibits were all in Spanish. Reading the cards, he would then explain to her in English what the piece represented in Patagonia history. Not only did she enjoy hearing him talk, she savored the brief moments of physical contact when he would place his hand at the small of her back to gently guide her to another area. The sensations caused Brooke to feel cherished and protected. When his hands were free of food and drink, she found him reaching for hers in a subconscious sort of way. His touch sent warmth shooting through her. It was a sensation she wanted to explore.

After viewing all the exhibits, it was time to move to the atrium for the exhibition. The space was very large and, to ensure that everyone could see the artists, the chairs were set up in a circle only two rows deep. Shortly after finding their front row seats reserved for the sponsors, the lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated the empty circle of floor space the chairs surrounded.

There were a few measures of sultry music that played before a second spotlight lit one of the aisles. A long-legged dancer with a platinum-colored fringed gown began slowly sashaying down the aisle, while a third spotlight lit upon a tall man wearing a metallic gray suit and a fedora. He was swaying down the opposite aisle. Mimicking the woman’s movement in perfect timing, they made their way to the center spotlight, eyes locked on one another.

Brooke could feel her pulse begin to race at the image of the two lovers making their way toward each other. Not wanting to rush the moment, it was as if they were savoring the awareness they had for one another, creating a tension that would explode on contact, making the slow purposeful delay worthwhile.

She must have sighed outwardly when the couple finally met in the middle. At that precise moment, when the sound escaped her lips, Landon reached for her hand, as if he, too, was caught up in the union of the dancers.

Cheek to cheek, the lovers began to move in soft, yet swift, fluid motion. Legs seemingly began to tangle and then untangle with precision and ease. The steady hand of the man guided the woman he held in his arms, his touch firm but sensuous.

At one point the woman clung to her lover in apparent ecstasy. He held her body so close to his they were practically one. With ease, he glided her across the floor, keeping her body close to his as she arched her back in desire. When she came up to wrap her arms around his neck, their lips were ever so close, their bodies moving to the rhythm of the beat in perfect timing. The music began to wind down and suddenly the lovers stilled.

The crowd stood and applauded with fervor; members of the audience whistled their appreciation as the dancers bowed. It was obvious everyone had felt the raw, evocative emotion of the performance.

Recommendation! Undertow by K.R. Conway

Eila Walker knows luck is not a friend, so she is downright shocked to inherit a million-dollar Cape Cod home. And yeah, her new town isn't perfect: the cheerleaders are heinous clones, the local undertow can kill ya, and her Great Grams was supposedly fried by lightning in the harbor square. Still, Eila is hopeful her luckless days are in the past . . . until history decides to repeat itself.

When Raef O’Reilly becomes her friendly, yet weirdly protective shadow, Eila thinks life is pretty darn perfect – until she is hauled beneath the waves by an unnatural undertow. Revealing coal-black eyes and iron-like strength as he rescues her, Raef can no longer hide what he is . . . or what she can do. Eila, last of her kind, can supposedly channel the power of human souls, while Raef is more adept at stealing them. Even worse, the legend about her ancestor isn't such a myth, since Eila’s grandmother was one kick-butt warrior until her lightning-like power backfired. A power that is written all over Eila's DNA.

Determined to stay one step ahead of a dangerous clan that is hunting her, Raef, along with three unlikely allies, will do all they can to protect her. But as hidden pieces of their brutal histories unravel, Eila begins to understand just what went down in the harbor square. She soon realizes that following in her grandmother’s fearless footsteps may be the only way to save those she loves . . . including Raef.

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