Showing posts with label Twisted. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Twisted. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Get Twisted for FREE



TITLE – Twisted
SERIES (& Book #) – Book 1 in the Twisted Series
AUTHOR – Christa Simpson
GENRE – New Adult Romance
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 314 pages / 99,000 words
PUBLISHER – Black Widow Publishing

#FREE on Kindle



BOOK SYNOPSIS 
Can a man and woman be “just friends?”

After graduating from law school with honours, Edwin Santora, Abigail’s occasional ex and handsome housemate, could get a job anywhere he wants. Of all the places to land, why does he take a position with her small firm? As if sharing a house with her irresistible ex isn’t bad enough, it quickly becomes the least of her concerns. When Edwin’s macho arrogance begins to seriously affect her dating life, Abigail starts to reconsider their friendship; not that Edwin believes a man and woman can be “just friends” anyway.

With Edwin’s swoon-worthy stunts and fierce persistence, Abigail finds herself catching feelings. When Edwin makes a friendly proposal, no-strings-attached, Abigail can’t resist.

After some sexy role playing, she finds herself dangerously in love and wrapped back up in Edwin’s powerful grip. When Abigail risks everything, revealing a treacherous little secret, will their friendship pass the test? Or will they give in to the mysterious forces trying to drive them apart?


Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Looking for trouble in the Big Easy: Twisted



Twisted
Lost Series, #2
by Cynthia Eden

Blurb:

In the second seductive LOST novel from New York Times bestselling author Cynthia Eden, an obsessed Last Option Search Team agent goes looking for trouble—and finds her in the Big Easy.

Dean Bannon comes to New Orleans for one reason only: to track down a missing sixteen-year-old girl. That's before he meets the drop-dead gorgeous con artist who makes him want to lose his legendary control.

With her past, Emma Castille doesn't claim to be psychic. She just notices things other people don't. Like the fear in a runaway's eyes—or the pain in an ex-FBI agent's heart. Her chemistry with Dean is blistering, but Emma follows her passion . . . not someone else's orders.

Then a madman breaks into Emma's home and leaves a twisted message: You're next. Now Dean refuses to let her out of his sight until he pries every last secret from her full, sexy lips. And suddenly Emma's aching to give him everything he wants. 



Available for purchase at

               


 Excerpt



“You’re not psychic.”
Were they back to that?
She put her hands in her lap. Emma didn’t believe in making nervous gestures. She didn’t believe in giving away anything at all with her body language.
“What you are …” Ah, now he did smile. Her father would have called it a shit-eating grin. The more PC term was probably a Cheshire cat smile. Whatever the name, that smile annoyed her. “What you are, Ms. Castille … is a criminal. A fraud.”
Maybe she should grab her chest and dramatically gasp. She didn’t. “Wonderful for you,” Emma said. “You pulled up a background report one me.” She let her eyes widen a bit. “It’s amazing just what one can find if a person knows how to use a search engine.”
A furrow appeared between his eyes.
“How about I say what … you are?” Emma asked him. “A washed-up FBI agent who snapped on the job. You held your control tight every single day, but the bad guys—they just didn’t stop, did they? You hunted them, you stopped them, and more appeared. While you were fighting the system, they kept coming, and the bodies kept piling up on your watch.”
He shot right back to his feet. The folding chair slammed down behind him.
“You and your father bilked desperate people,” he accused. “You told them you were psychic, that you could help find their missing children. And you—”
“We found them.” Two girls who’d vanished. They’d found them. “We just didn’t get to them in time.” And she would not go back to that place.
She motioned toward Manuel. He knew the signal meant he could take over her booth. There was no way, no way, that she was going to stay there with that prick while he slammed the most painful moments from her past in Emma’s face.
Manuel, pale, tattooed, with piercings in his lips and eyebrows, quickly claimed her spot.
Emma jumped to her feet. Muttered her thanks, and fled right past the guy she was starting to think of as Agent Jackass.
She pushed through the crowd. Wasn’t there always a crowd in Jackson Square? And that was why she loved the place. It was so easy to vanish in a crowd. To be anyone.
The crowd closed around her.
To be no one at all.
She hurried around the back of the cathedral. She knew the streets so well. Her home was close by. Emma would get inside and forget Agent Jackass.
I’m being followed.
Emma stilled at the intersection. A horse-drawn carriage rolled by her. Voices called out.
And he touched her.
Emma didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. She looked down at the hand on her shoulder. “When a woman runs away from you, that means you need to stay the hell away from her.”
His hold tightened on her. “You and I aren’t done.”
She looked up at his face. Had she really thought the man was handsome? Annoying, that was all Dean Bannon was.
“I need to find that girl, and you’re the only lead I have so far.”

“Then you’re not a very good investigator.”


About the Author

USA Today Best-selling author Cynthia Eden has written over twenty-five novels and novellas. She was named as a 2013 RITA® finalist for her paranormal romance, ANGEL IN CHAINS, and, in 2011, Cynthia Eden was a RITA finalist for her romantic suspense, DEADLY FEAR.
Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings.  She has always wanted to write (don’t most authors say that?), and particularly enjoys creating stories about monsters–vampires, werewolves, and even the real-life monsters that populate her romantic suspense stories.

Cynthia’s foreign sales for her books include translations to Japan, Germany, Thailand, Greece, and Brazil.
(Back in the day…) Cynthia graduated summa cum laude from the University of South Alabama where she studied Sociology (because people interest her) and Communication (because she likes to write about said people).  Cynthia has worked as a college admissions counselor, a teacher, and as an editor. But now, Cynthia is thrilled to be spending her days making up stories.



          







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Friday, September 12, 2014

Twisted: wherever the twins go, trouble follows


Twisted: A Gay Erotic Thriller
By Joey Jameson


Blurb:  
Imagine another person, the mirror image of you but yet different in every way… Everly and Hadley Stone are identical twins.

Growing up the boys were inseparable, always at each other’s side and experiencing everything together as one. It seemed like nothing was strong enough to break the bond between the two brothers. Until now…

On the eve of their birthday the twins meet a man who is literally to die-for, causing them both to fall helplessly at his feet. But what any unsuspecting man should know, is that wherever the Stone brothers go, trouble follows. Their story is one of secrets and lies which will have you guessing till the brutal end who’s good, and who’s very, very bad. Light or dark? Sweet or sexy? Quiet or confident? Innocent or deadly. Pick your flavour.
Purchase Links
Chances Press     Amazon      Smashwords  
 
 
Review by pearls
 
There is a part of the story where the twin brothers visit a club.  As they pass the queue, everyone stares at "these gorgeous identical twins walking....touching each other just enough to suggest the most taboo of thoughts" and thinks "Oh my God. Hot."  That one scene is sums up the intrigue of this book.  Danger has always followed these twin brothers, trouble that is unexplained.  The book opens in the present, after a horrific incident.  However , which brother is to blame?  The rest of the book returns to the beginning for the reader to follow the growth of the boys up to this incident. 
As different in personality as they are similar in looks, their growth over the years has found both brothers asking the same questions:  why can't he be more like me? and, privately, perhaps I should be more like him.  While the reader might think they know which is the nicer brother, we've been shown enough to realize it could be the other.  It's a psychological thriller couched within an erotic gay storyline.  It will keep you guessing to the end, while enjoying the scenery of the ride. 
 

Excerpt

 I writhed underneath his bulk, my raging hard-on pressing up against my jeans to the point of causing me to chafe inside my trousers. Before I could respond, he drove his tongue deep into my mouth again; hot and wet it explored, licking and sucking in a rhythmic manner. His hands moved up my muscular torso, finding their way under my top and running his fingers over the deep grooves of my abs. A moan escaped my lips at the sensation of his smooth palms making contact with my nipples. My mouth opened further, inviting him deeper inside me.
         Lying on his sofa, I could feel how cheap it was as the rough coiled-springs drove up uncomfortably into my back causing it to arch unwillingly and force my crotch up even further against his own.  He responded by driving his pelvis harder to meet me half-way, the sensation sending sparks of colourful pleasure dancing through my bloodstream.

            I opened my eyes for a moment and searched his face, trying desperately in vain to remember his name.

Dan…Darryl…Donnie…
          Didn’t matter anyway, it wasn’t like we were going to be friends afterwards.

I pushed him off me, forcing him to sit up and causing a look of hurt to flash across his features before quickly evaporating into lust as I lifted my black t-shirt off over my head; stopping only for a second to let him admire my sculpted chest before I started to unbuckle my shorts. I could feel his eyes roll over my naked torso; pausing at the broadness of my tanned shoulders and trickling down over my round pecs. I slipped a hand into the waist band of my denim cut-off shorts and let my eyes close as I grabbed my dick and adjusted it in the confines of my underwear. When I opened them he was practically drooling at the sight of me touching myself.
      I unzipped the crotch and nodded in his direction, silently motioning for him to get naked too. He stood and clumsily tore at his shirt, letting it fall discarded to the floor. As he fumbled with his own trousers, desperate to get back to touching my skin, I stood and let my shorts and underwear fall to the ground in a pool at my feet.

He was hot. There was no denying it; similar in build to myself, same deep V definition under his abs and with just a light dusting of hair over his generously perk pectorals. The muscles in my stomach constricted as lust swept over me, and I realised just then how horny I actually was.
       As he swiftly removed the last of his clothing revealing a hard-on that sliced through the air like a sword as it was released, I was on him in a flash, taking his dick in my right hand and forcing him down on his tacky old sofa. He groaned in response to my grip and laid himself back with his hands behind his head. Lowering myself down I took him into my mouth, all at once I forced the muscles in my throat to relax as I led him deep inside my mouth, trailing my wet tongue down his girth. I paused for a moment as my head relaxed further and he slid obligingly even deeper until he practically grazed my tonsils. With one hand I worked the skin around his penis in a circular motion as my tongue licked and lips sucked expertly at his head. My other hand found my own cock and worked a similar motion on myself, mirroring what I was doing to him. He arched his own back now, driving him further inside me as his hips began pumping slowly into my face. I responded by gently grazing my teeth up and down his shaft once, sending him the message to chill the fuck out.

He half-groaned and half-laughed as he got the hint that I was in charge.
          “Fuck yeah, baby, keep doing that.”

           My mouth  sucked harder and harder, my tongue licking and spitting as it went to town on his smooth glistening mushroom head. My own strokes became shallower as I began to feel the orgasm building inside me causing my own cock to moisten.

        “Jesus, you give good head,” he whispered as he took my head in his hands and knotted his fingers in my dark hair.

I loved dirty talk. The filthier the better. The more a guy talks smut to me the fucking hornier I get.
           I groaned in response, my desire boiling up inside of me and coming out in grunts through my stuffed mouth.


About the Author:
 
Joey Jameson lives in Brighton, UK; a world of decadence, glamour and intrigue. He believes life is better when drizzled with naughtiness and drenched in layer upon layer of sparkling glitter. His work is best appreciated with a hard drink and the lights down low and will leave you wondering just what goes on in his twisted little mind.

He is the author of “Candy from Strangers”, “Blackout” and the recently released short “Interview with the Porn Star.” Keep your eyes peeled for more titilating adventures that are yet to come.

For more on Joey Jameson, please visit
www.chancespress.com.


 

Giveaway: 

One free ebook copy

 
To enter to win the ebook, readers should leave a comment.
One commentor will be drawn to win at each stop at the end of the tour.