MARRIAGE GAMES BY CD REISS

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“Marriage Games is one of the most powerful novels I have ever read. CD Reiss gets into the soul of her hero and heroine and never lets go. A strong, clear picture of the psychological and emotional challenges of a D/s relationship, especially in a marriage. Why it works and why it might not. Can’t wait for the next one.” ―Desiree Holt, USA Today bestselling author

 

MARRIAGE GAMES BY CD REISS

The Games Duet – Book # 1
Release Date: October 25th
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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SYNOPSIS

THIRTY DAYS

That’s all Adam Steinbeck demands of his wife.

Thirty days in a remote cottage, doing everything he demands. After that, he’ll sign her divorce papers and give her complete ownership of their company.

THIRTY DAYS

That’s how long he has to rediscover the man he once was. The Dominant Master he hid when he fell in love with her five years ago.

THIRTY DAYS

She wants the business they built badly enough to go to the cottage for a month. Cut off ties to the world and do his bidding. She can submit to him with her body, but her heart will never yield.

She thinks this is his pathetic attempt to repair their marriage.

She’s wrong.

 

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EXCERPT

“Pull your skirt up.” I said it without acknowledging the possibility that she’d disobey. It felt good to use those words and that tone. To watch her eyes go to the floor.

“Trust me.” I said it so low she was just within range to hear it. “Five minutes. Then we don’t have to fight over the car.”

I stepped back and set my watch with a beep. It wasn’t about the car for her. The Jag was the least of her worries, but it was a tangible justification.

For the downcast eyes. For the way her breathing changed. Maybe every bone in her body was vanilla. Maybe not.

“Quit any time,” I said. “Just say the word.”

She laid her hands on her hips.

Curled her fingers.

Gripped fabric.

Pulled up her skirt.

The tops of her thighs came into view then met at the crotch. I was hard already and made no move to hide it. She noticed and stopped moving the skirt.

“Higher,” I said as if telling her how to center a picture over the couch. Higher was where it had to be. It wasn’t a request.

Up it went, revealing cotton underwear in a pink so pale they were almost white.

“Now what?” she asked.

“How do you feel?”

“Weird, Adam. Really weird.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing here with my skirt around my waist? Because you told me to? For a car, no less, which is creepy.”

She was so honest. I ached for her honesty.

“You’re not obeying me for an object. You’re obeying me so I do something. Take an action or don’t.”

“You think that’s not weird?”

“No, I don’t. And we have four minutes.” I stepped forward. Part of her discomfort was in the physical distance between us. I’d stepped away so she didn’t feel threatened, but my gaze was keeping her from relaxing. I kept my eyes on hers. I could smell her perfume and feel the shortness of her breath. “Are you turned on?”

“Sex isn’t going to get me back. I’m sorry—”

“Touch yourself.”

Her initial shock and offense lasted only a second before she pressed her lips together and reached down, shoulders angling, hand thrusting as if checking to make sure her cunt was still there.

We have hundreds of bones in our bodies, and sometimes we won’t acknowledge the preferences of the ones that scare us.

“Are you wet?”

“A little.”

I gripped the edge of the vanity and put my lips near her cheek, millimeters from touching her.

“You don’t love me anymore,” I whispered. “But I could always make you wet, and you always came for me. Like our Italy vacation. In Florence. Coming back from that club, in the little alley. Against the wall. I ripped through your underwear.”

Her breathing got shallow and fast.

“I fucked you in the dark, and when you came, you screamed my name so loud all the lights in the apartments went on.”

“That was good.” She turned her face toward mine.

When her lips nearly touched me, I pulled away just enough. “I said I wouldn’t touch you.”

“I changed my mind.”

I wasn’t fooled. Her arousal was talking. I owned her. She’d do whatever I told her. But I wanted something very simple. I wanted her pleasure. “Take the juice from your cunt and rub it on your clit. Make it wet.”

“Adam.”

“What?”

“What’s come over you?”

“Do it.” I felt her arm move against me. “Rub back and forth. Be consistent. One-two-one-two.”

When I felt that she had it, I stepped back. She stopped. Her knees were bent slightly and her fingers had taken her cunt from the side of the crotch, not the waistband. She never ceased to surprise me.

“One-two-one-two, huntress.”

“Is this your way of getting back at me?”

“One-two-one-two. Let me see you come. You’re so beautiful when you come. You’ve gone this far.”

Her body must have been able to override her mind, because she moved her finger again, closing her eyes. Her cheeks reddened and her knees bent more deeply.

“In Florence. An hour after we got to the hotel. I came so deep in you that night. I fucked you from behind with your leg up on the dresser. I wanted to thrust my whole body inside you. I loved you that much. And I gave up who I was. Last night, at the club, I remembered what I was. I was a man who was obeyed. I dominated women, and they submitted to me. The result was what you’re about to feel. Complete pleasure.”

She let out a long, low groan, leaning on the vanity, twisting. I could have fucked her right then. I could have bent her over the counter and pounded her. But that wasn’t the point. No. Watching her hand move under her clothes because I commanded it. That was the point.

An uh escaped her throat. Years of marriage had taught me that meant she was about to come.

My watch beeped.

“Time’s up,” I said.

Her eyes went wide. Her hand stopped.

“Thank you,” I said. “We’re done. I’ll send you the title to the car. You might want to pull your skirt down, since I can’t lock the door from the outside.”

It was hard to walk away from her panting, bent frame without tasting her cunt or even seeing more of her reaction, but I turned the corner, unlocked the door, and left the bathroom.

 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to chop a cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

AMAZON / FACEBOOK / TWITTERINSTAGRAM / WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER

 

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American Queen by Sierra Simone

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American Queen by Sierra Simone

Release Date: October 25th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design by Hang Le

 

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Synopsis

It starts with a stolen kiss under an English sky, and it ends with a walk down the aisle. It starts with the President sending his best friend to woo me on his behalf, and it ends with my heart split in two. It starts with buried secrets and dangerous desires…and ends with the three of us bound together with a hateful love sharper than any barbed wire.

My name is Greer Galloway, and I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States.

This is the story of an American Queen.

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About the Author

SierraSimone

 

Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

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Burning Bond by Emma Hart

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Burning Bond by Emma Hart
Holly Woods Files Series – Book #6

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Excerpt

“Danger! Danger! Danger!” Gio screams. “Danger! Neenaw neenaw neenaw!”

“Jesus Christ, Nonna!” Brody yells, rubbing his ear. “What the hell is that?”

Nonna stops. “He-a likes CSI.”

I blink. Gio watches CSI?

“You let your parrot watch murder TV shows?” I ask.

“Si. He-a likes it.”

“Neenaw neenaw neenaw!” Gio flaps his wings.

“What is the neenaw about?” I say quickly when he stops.

“He-a is-a a police-a car,” Nonna says in the kind of dry tone that says I should know that.

Like it’s totally fucking normal for a parrot to pretend to be a police car.

“Nonna, you need a quieter pet,” Brody tells her. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

She snorts. “He will-a learn-a a fire engine next!”

“I’m leaving.” I grab my purse and stand up.

Nonna grabs my arm, stands me up, and spins me toward the dining room—and away from the wannabe siren with a heartbeat. “No. You-a must-a help me.”

“Nonna,” I say gently, hoping to placate her and trying not to think about the fact that I dropped my purse on the floor. “They haven’t set a wedding date. This can wait until they’re home.”

She shakes her head. “No. She-a does-a not-a care about-a napkins!”

I don’t blame her. I’m not gonna lie. I don’t care about napkins, either. At least, not right now. There are far bigger things to worry about.

“Neenaw!” Gio cries through the house.

Brody slams the dining room door, cutting him off. “That goddamn bird, Nonna.”

Nonna clasps her hand to her chest. “Take-a it-a back!”

“I’m going to damn you if you don’t get on with this. I’m supposed to be on a lunch break, not a torture break,” he grinds out. He grabs the samples and, flicking through them halfheartedly, selects the most god-awful pattern I’ve ever seen. “Here. This is nice.”

“If you’re blind,” I say sarcastically, reaching across and taking them from him.

It’s even uglier at closer look. I don’t know what Nonna was drinking when she picked these, but it must have been Moonshine or something. I can’t even describe the vile mixing of lace and satin on that swatch.

“One of these three.” I pull them from the clip and put them on the table. “Trust me. I’m not being responsible for Noelle having to wipe her mouth with a napkin that looks like it lost a fight with a paper shredder and a glue stick.”

“What’s wrong with the one I picked?” Brody asks me indignantly.

I cast my gaze upward. “It looks like it lost a fight with a paper shredder and a glue stick,” I say slowly so he gets every word. “No. I’ll be held responsible, and it’s not happening.”

Nonna wrinkles her nose as she puts her glasses on and examines the swatches I’ve handed her. Honestly, if she brings them any closer to her face, she’ll be able to feel them. Then she selects a fourth.

“I like-a this one.”

“No,” I say firmly. “One of these.” I hand her the best three.

Brody groans. “Why can’t she just use paper napkins?”

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Books In This Series


Twisted Bond (Holly Woods Files, #1) by [Hart, Emma]

Twisted Bond (Holly Woods Files #1)

Amazon US


Tangled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #2) by [Hart, Emma]

Tangled Bond (Holly Woods Files #2)

Amazon US


Tethered Bond (Holly Woods Files, #3) by [Hart, Emma]

Tethered Bond (Holly Woods Files #3)

Amazon US


Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files, #4) by [Hart, Emma]

Tied Bond (Holly Woods Files #4)

Amazon US


Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) by [Hart, Emma]

Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files #5)

Amazon US

 

About Emma Hart

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By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to a terrible two year old and growing bump, due September 2013. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of juice and writes books.
She likes to write about magic, kisses and whatever else she can fit into the story. Sarcastic, witty characters are a must. As are hot guys. Emma is currently working too many books to even count – including Playing for Keeps, the companion book to the New York Times and USA Today bestselling novel, The Love Game. She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to when all the ideas come to life.

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Wicked Little Words by Stevie J Cole & BT Urruela

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Wicked Little Words by Stevie J Cole & BT Urruela

 Release Day: October 31st

WickedLittleWords

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Synopsis:

Edwin Allen Mercer I want them all to read my words. And they do. Every last blood-stained sentence, they’ve read and praised me for. They love the gore and violence, the realness. And I get a sense of power with it all because I know a secret: the victims in my books—they’re real and have all died on my table. And maybe that’s why the last book had such awful reviews. Murder is, after all, a dirty little thing. Some can stomach it. Others can’t. My answer to those reviews: find a woman to co-author with. To be the next pathetic character in my book. Pity she’s so pretty.

Miranda Cross All I’ve ever wanted was to be successful as a writer so when I was offered the opportunity to co-author a book with my idol, EA Mercer, I jumped at the chance. He’s beautiful and a literary genius, but something about him makes my stomach knot. And maybe it’s my overactive imagination making my hairs stand on end when he walks up behind me. After all, these wicked little words we’re typing are only fiction. They’re only fiction…

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About the Authors

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Stevie J. Cole lives deep in the woods of Alabama with her two precious daughters. She studied Epidemiology concentrating on cancer research but has always had a passion for writing. Some of her stories will strip you bare, some will give you nightmares, but the one thing she can promise is that she will always give you stories that make you feel.

Raw. Gritty. Love. Because sometimes characters need to be flawed.

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BT Urruela was an infantryman in the US Army from August 2004 until February 2011. At the end of a year long tour to Baghdad, Iraq, his vehicle was hit by two roadside bombs, which took his right leg below the knee and the life of his commander. He was awarded a Purple Heart for his wounds, an Army Commendation Medal, and Combat Infantryman’s Badge. He medically retired from the Army in 2011 and moved to Tampa, FL where he currently works as a Director and Brand Ambassador for VETSports, a veteran community sports nonprofit he co-founded in 2012. He also conducts motivational speeches, works as a cover and fitness model and he’s a personal performance trainer. He co-wrote the military romance novel A Lover’s Lament and will be releasing his debut solo novel, Into the Nothing, on June 21st, 2016.

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