Thursday, May 23, 2019

PAYBACK by Amy Daws - Release Blitz

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What happens when you record an accidental sex tape with your one-night-stand?

You tell no one...EVER.

Read PAYBACK for FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

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Loving everything about her. Beautiful young couple bonding and

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book info
Title: PAYBACK Author: Amy Daws Genre: Sports Romance Release Date: May 16, 2019 Platforms: Kindle Unlimited/Amazon Cover Designer: Amy Daws
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about the book Payback-front ALLIE HARRIS WANTS PAYBACK. Her cheating ex deserves to see her living her best life; a one-night-stand with a hot South African soccer player would be the perfect revenge. Right? Wrong. Allie is so, so wrong. ROAN DEWALT HAS ALL THE MOVES. On and off the field he’s at the top of his game. Roan respects hard-work, dedication—and follow through. He’s not a one and done kind of man, and he’s far from being done with Allie Harris. One sexy night and two years later, Allie’s job brings her back to town. An opportunity for the perfect replay Roan has been fantasizing about since they slept together. THE PROBLEM? Allie Harris has a secret; one she’s been keeping from Roan all this time. Digital proof of their one night together—taken without his consent. Will Allie’s payback plan come back to bite them both? Or can she erase her past mistake and embrace a new future with Roan?
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buy links Read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Loving everything about her. Beautiful young couple bonding and

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excerpt 

 Without warning, my uncle pushes open a set of double doors and leads me into a changing room full of… Naked. Soccer players. Butt naked, wet or sweaty—I can’t quite tell—soccer players. I catch sight of one guy flicking a towel at the bare ass of another, so I duck my head and shield my gaze. Good-god, if I’m caught ogling several hanging members being swung about all willy-nilly, I’ll be sure to lose my job! Be cool, Allie. Be cool. You’re one of the guys! And you’ve seen penises before! I stumble behind Vaughn, who doesn’t miss a step as he continues marching on, walking past loads more of naked soccer players positioned at their lockers. Seriously, why are they all completely naked? Don’t they get cold? I thought shrinkage was a real thing! Nothing in this room is shrunken. Shranked? Whatever…I can’t grammar right now, there’s dicks everywhere! Vaughn rounds a corner to another set of lockers and states firmly, “Here we are.” I look up just as my high heel catches on something beneath me. I make a move to extract it, but my foot hooks on to whatever it is, holding my leg hostage while my body continues propelling forward. Letting out a yelp, I brace myself for an epic tumble. But instead of falling down on the concrete flooring like I thought I would, I end up face planting into a chest. A very manly chest. A very manly, naked chest, whose pecs feel like two smooth boulders tensing beneath my twitching fingers that are currently clinging on for dear life. “Ag, careful…That bag’s a biter,” a familiar voice murmurs on the top of my head as two very large hands wrap around my waist. I look up and every organ in my body does a somersault as I stare up into the gorgeously pale brown eyes of Roan DeWalt. My one-night-stand. Who’s apparently not at all worried about shrinkage.
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giveaway
Those that follow Amy Daws on social media know a few things about her:
  1. She is ALWAYS 2+ hours early for her flights.
  2. She writes in a tire shop waiting room.
  3. She is incredible at making charcuterie boards! And leave it to Amy to find a business that makes BOOK-SHAPED CHARCUTERIE BOARDS! To celebrate Amy's release, she's giving readers a chance to win two signed paperbacks and two custom-designed PAYBACK charcuterie boards! Enter on her Facebook page and her Instagram page! Good luck!
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about the author13254841_1712669075674776_2966283892361812453_o
Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 25 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in England; especially about those footy-playing Harris Brothers of hers. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she's watching Gilmore Girls, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance. For more of Amy's work, visit: http://www.amydawsauthor.com
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RELEASE: Love Under Construction

RELEASE TOUR for Love Under Construction by Aubree Valentine


Olivia Pierce is fighting to stay above water and the boy next door, the thorn in her side, won’t leave her alone. Jameson Phoenix only wants to protector, but it’s hard to do when she hates him. Things start to shift after a kiss that should have never happened, and now they find themselves questioning everything. The sixth book in the beloved 425 Madison Avenue, is now live. Read Love Under Construction by Aubree Valentine today!

Only on Amazon + Read for FREE on Kindle Unlimited




About Love Under Construction


Jameson
She hates me.
I can’t say I blame her, in fact, I thought it was best this way.
That was until I realized just how much I really cared for her.
Now all I want to do is protect her.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Olivia
I hate him.
He's always been a thorn in my side.
When my life is flipped upside down, and I'm fighting to stay above water, things between us shift, and I begin to question everything I thought I knew about the boy next door.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I never should have kissed him. It was only a matter of time.

After all, 425 Madison Avenue is the perfect place to fall in love.


*Each story is completely standalone.





Excerpt
Copyright @ 2019 Aubree Valentine

With my mood dampening and all the lovebirds pairing off, I can’t think of a better excuse to get out of here. Clapping Jake on the back, I say my goodbyes and thank the guys for letting me hang with them tonight before taking my sullen ass back to my apartment.

It takes all of my restraint, not to check on Liv when I get back on the fifth floor. It would be so easy to knock on her door and tell her that I’m in love with her. That I’ve loved her for a long time. In my mind, I know it’s no use. My heart doesn’t want to listen.

I pause outside her door and touch a hand to the cold surface like it will somehow connect me to the woman inside.

“Whoa. Dude. What are you doing?” I hear the elevator ding, and Harley’s voice startles me.

“Nothing,” I shake my head and step back.

“Yeah, nothing,” he steps up beside me and shoves me toward our apartment. “Let’s go before you do something stupid.”

I huff. “Like telling her, I love her?”

“Jesus Christ, how much have you had to drink?” He questions.

“Not enough. That’s for sure.”

Harley opens the apartment door, ushering me inside. “I’m going to disagree with you. Drinking isn’t going to solve anything either.”

“Harley, it was six beers. I’m hardly drunk. Just delusional.”

“You might be right, there.” He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and tosses me one. “When are you going to give up on her, man? Haven’t you had enough rejection?”

“Would you give up on the woman you love?”

Harley looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “If she treated me like shit? Pushed me away and said I made her miserable? Uh, yeah. I did; remember?”

I wince. He’s right. And I’m an asshole friend for bringing it up. “Shelia is nothing like Olivia.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But a man has got to know when to cut his losses. Trust me.”

“It’ll be better when I finish this job and get the hell away from here. Though I feel bad leaving you without a roommate.”




Author Info:

Aubree Valentine is a wife, mom and avid reader. Her love of books goes far behind weaving her own stories to tell. She realized her dream of becoming a published author by the time she was in high school and knew she'd stop at nothing to make that happen.

When she's not writing, she can be found chasing after her twins or her dogs, curled up with a good book or still working with some of her favorite authors.





About the 425 Madison Series




Welcome to 425 Madison Ave the perfect place to fall in love. Nine delicious romances set in fast-paced & sexy NYC just waiting for you to read.

The series features stories from some of your favorite romance authors: Leigh Lennon, MK Moore, Allie York, Aubree Valentine, Kay Gordon, Lauren Helms, Sylvia Kane, Katy Ames, and C. Lesbirel.

Join these authors as they come together, each with a standalone romance for you to enjoy.

Featuring some of readers' favorite tropes: second-chance romance, best friends sibling romance to a good ol' enemies to lovers romance. We've got you covered with a sports romance, a fake relationship and even an ugly duckling or two. Don't forget a brother's best friend and falling for your soul mate. Maybe a little love triangle as well. Each tale offers you something new, something different. After all, 425

For more information, visit the series website ➝ www.425madisonseries.com

Follow the series on Facebook ➝ https://www.facebook.com/425MadisonSeries

Did you miss the first five books in the series? You can read them here:


The next book in the series is coming soon! Add it to your Goodreads shelf today!

Back for More by Sylvia Kane
A Brother's Best Friend Romance
Release: 6/6/19


This release event is brought to you by Forever Write PR - Forever your source for all your writing needs. https://www.facebook.com/ForeverWritePR/

Blog Tour: THE BILLIONAIRE BOSS NEXT DOOR by Max Monroe

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The Billionaire Boss Next Door, an all-new hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe, is available now!

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My new boss has it all. In spades.
Gorgeous green eyes? Check.
Hard-and-sexy body? Check.
Intelligence? Check.
Success? A big fat billionaire… Check.
Too bad I haven’t started out on the best foot.
My big mouth has already turned him against me, and tempting good looks and success aside, Trent Turner is no peach either. He’s stubborn and thick-headed, and son of a fruitcake, he thinks he knows everything there is to know about the hotel business.
With him running the development of the new Vanderturn New Orleans Hotel and me doing the design, our work relationship is far too intimate for two people who absolutely despise one another.
But that’s not all.
See, he isn’t just my billionaire boss from hell. He’s my new neighbor, too.
Same city.
Same building.
Same floor.
Trent Turner is my billionaire boss next door.
Holy moly, let’s hope my career—and hormones—can survive.
Disclaimer: If you generally love to suffer, hate fun of any kind, and are allergic to laughter, this book is not for you.
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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TBBND
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2uEva5S
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Excerpt:

It only takes five minutes inside the hotel gym to realize why my original plan was to eat a hamburger in bed. I do not got this. I’m not good at working out, I’ve never been good at working out, and I’ll never be good at working out. I don’t know what to do with the equipment, and it doesn’t know what to do with me. Clearly, it’s been designed for people with half a foot more height and fifty percent more muscle, and even on the lowest of settings, I fumble my way through biceps curls like an uncoordinated inchworm. I can barely reach the handles, so I have to kind of stoop to get in position, but the newly formed curve of my spine makes me have to arch and wiggle to complete the curl. If it weren’t for my kick-ass Metallica T-shirt, I might start to worry that I look foolish. The ten-pound weight clanks as I drop it the inch and a half I managed to lift it in the first place, and I stand up to find a different machine. Surely there’s something in here I can operate without having a special license. I find some kind of seated thing with weights on one end and a padded face rest on the other. I sit, lay my face down, and attempt to slide my legs underneath the weighted bar. But, it’s completely awkward and uncomfortable, and I start questioning what in the fuck this thing is even supposed to do. Just before I give up completely, a throat clears deeply beside me, and I look up to see a far too muscular man staring down at me in confusion. “Uh…wow…I didn’t realize you could use it that way…” Huh? I nearly ask him what he’s talking about, but his actions answer any and all questions I might have. He sits down on the machine beside mine—an identical machine to mine—and it’s then I realize the face rest is not a face rest. It’s a seat. For asses. A seat for sweaty, workout asses. Jesus Christ. I shudder and disentangle myself from the machine. “You okay?” Arnold Schwarzenegger’s long-lost brother asks, but I just nod off his question and put some much-needed distance between us. Also, I scrub my face with the hand towel I brought down from my room like it’s a fucking Brillo pad capable of removing the ball sweat that’s probably found itself a home in my pores. Note to self: take one thousand scalding-hot showers tonight. With a deep inhale, I try to regain some of the pride I lost back there by Mr. Muscles and peruse the room until I find a machine that’s labeled with instructional pictures to boot. Hip. Abduction. Do I need aliens to use this thing? Against my better judgment, I study the pictures and peptalk myself into sitting down on the seat and swing my legs over to the inside of the knee pads. No face-to-butt-sweat mistakes happening here, folks! The weight is set on one hundred and fifty pounds from the person before me, and it makes me wonder if Thor is staying at this hideous hotel too. I pull out the pin and put it on forty instead. After a quick test push with my legs, the setting seems doable, so I take out my phone and start scrolling through it to set up some music to accompany me. Yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I need. Some workout jams. Of course, once I’m on it, I get distracted by Instagram, and five minutes go by before I realize I’m sitting on a machine, not a couch, and the purpose here is to do something other than lounge. I glance up from my phone and scan the room, wondering slightly if anyone knows how long I’ve been sitting here. Mr. Muscles has moved on to a new machine, but a different guy across the room makes eye contact and smirks. Busted. Normal human decency dictates he should let me off the hook and go about his day, but this fit, Adonis-looking, sweat-covered, brown-haired, green-eyed—good God, he’s attractive—man apparently has no manners. Shit. His sleeveless white T-shirt clings to his tanned body as he strides my way, and his athletic shorts conform to a muscular set of thighs and ass. I look everywhere but at him, fiddling with the machine as though I’m doing something productive, but he still doesn’t get the hint. Raspy and firm, the clearing of his throat sounds right next to me. I look up as innocently as I can manage and pull out my earbuds as though I had music playing. “Um, hi,” I say with a cute little manufactured laugh. “I’ll be done in just a second.” He laughs too, but his seems genuine and undeniably directed at me. “If you keep up your current pace, I think it’s going to be a little longer.” “Excuse me?” “Come on,” he says good-naturedly—the prick. “You’re just pretending to work out.” Oh no, he did not just say that…. “I’m not pretending to work out,” I deny. “I’m just getting warmed up.” He nods knowingly. “And setting up my music,” I continue. He hums. “I’m just about to catch my stride.” “Sure you are.” He calls bullshit with his smug, green as fuck eyes, and for the briefest of moments, they glance down at my chest and my legs before meeting my gaze again. “But there are people who would like to really use it, so if you’re done…” What. The. Fuck. Who does this guy think he is? “Are you always this rude?” I question, and his green eyes lighten a bit. “All right, you’re right. I’m really not trying to be a dick,” he says and runs a hand through his hair. Should it really take that much effort not to be a dick? “Let’s start over…” He pauses and pushes a small smile to his full, kissable lips. “How are you enjoying the hotel?” Start over? How about let’s never have started at all? Still annoyed, I don’t censor my answer. “It’s…swell.” He laughs at first, but when I raise an eyebrow in contention, he frowns. “You don’t like it?” “Maybe ugly décor and a whole buttload of pretention are good for some people, but not for me.” Ugly décor? Really?” How can he be shocked by this? Anyone with eyes could see the design flaws here. “Are you kidding? I feel like I’m in my ninety-year-old grandmother’s living room, except it’s a waking nightmare and I’m about to be eaten alive by the curtains.” “I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s timeless.” Normally, I’m not such a snob about design, nor do I make a point to make other people feel bad for their likes and dislikes, but for some reason, this handsome prick and his dickish attitude just bring it out in me. Before I know it, I’m channeling Regina George. “Well…” I pause and scrunch up my nose dramatically. “I’m sorry to break the news to you, but the design of this place looks like it was done by a blind rat. Gilded sailboat pictures and tapestries with oxen on them aren’t timeless. They’re old.” His eyebrows pinch together, highlighting the otherwise perfect features of his face. Goddamn this ugly hotel for housing such perfect-looking humans. “What did you say your name was again?” Shit. Emory will absolutely murder me if she finds out I got into some kind of confrontational tête-à-tête with a random Romeo in the hotel gym. Let’s also not forget this hotel gym is located inside a hotel that is owned by the company you’re about to interview with… Shit. Yeah. I’d better cut and run while I can. “I didn’t.” I jump up from the machine with the exact agility I’ve lacked during the rest of my workout and offer a saccharine smile. “But, hey, good news. Machine’s all yours.” “Aren’t you going to wipe it down?” he asks as I walk toward the door, and I can’t help but turn around for my parting shot. “Why?” I smirk at the pouty-lipped asshole. “After all, I was just pretending to work out.” Because you know what dicks can do? They can go fuck themselves and wipe down their own workout equipment, tight asses and chiseled jaws be damned. Suck on that, workout Romeo.

About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads. Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far. ​
Connect with Max Monroe:
Stay up to date with Max Monroe by joining their mailing list today: https://www.authormaxmonroe.com/newsletter

FALLEN SAINT-Cover Reveal






FALLEN SAINT
Volume Two
Monica James
Just as this nightmare began, I once again find myself bound, destination unknown. However, this time, my kidnapper is the man who shattered my world beyond repair.
Aleksei Popov—Russia’s number one mobster, and the man I was sold to.
His intentions for me are clear—submit, obey him, and call him master—but I won’t surrender. I’m not like the other girls. Whether that’s a blessing or curse, I’ve yet to decide. The problem is, my disobedience intrigues my captor all the more.
When we arrive in Russia, the rules change.
Saint, the man who was once a sinner, is my only salvation. What was forbidden now gives me hope that there is light in the darkness. He will risk everything to set me free.
But behind these opulent walls, things aren’t what they seem, and when the fine line between pleasure and pain begins to blur, only one thing matters—saving my soul.
I will lie.
Cheat.
Steal.
I was once an angel, but now…I’m a fallen saint, ready to inflict my own pain and burn this hellhole to the ground.
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Release date: July 16th 2019
Series: All The Pretty Things Trilogy, Volume Two
Genre: Dark Romance
Cover Designer: Sommer Stein— Perfect Pear Creative Covers

Pre-Order Links:
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/yxrsvxl6
Nook: https://tinyurl.com/y6t4czko
Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/y25y4p48
Goodreads: https://tinyurl.com/y4slyrkc
UK
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y28rubpa
Australia
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y3u49byn
Canada
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y5zqmmqq






















Excerpt:
“Kneel.”
Without question, I slowly rise from the bed and follow Saint to the middle of the room. When he positions himself so Aleksei can see, I know what I have to do.
I drop to my knees and bow my head.
“Oh my.” A stunned gasp leaves Aleksei. “That is incredible. Just like a trained dog.”
A strong metallic taste fills my mouth, alerting me that I’ve drawn blood by biting down on my tongue so hard.
“What is your name?” Saint asks numbly.
Aнгел.”
“And who am I?”
мастеp,” I reply softly, using my hair as a veil.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
Before I have a chance to reply, Saint reaches down and grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I arch my neck, locking eyes with him. The amber swirls mingle among the flecks of green and set me alight. He is barely holding on.
мастеp,” I say, louder this time.
“Good girl.” He releases me while I sag forward in humiliation. “You know what happens when you disobey me?”
“Yes, мастеp.” The truth is, I don’t know what punishment he intends to deliver. He reveals what a moment later.
“Lift your dress.”
And just like that, I’m transported back to the night when Saint first struck me with his belt.
I know for this to be believable, Saint has to make the punishments credible. But the thought of being hit again has me whimpering.
“I said lift your fucking dress.” Saint’s tone is venomous. With no other choice, I do as he demands.
When I hear his belt being unbuckled and threaded through the loops of his pants, I brace myself for what comes next.
My back faces Aleksei, so he has a clear view of my ass. My lace underwear leaves nothing to the imagination, but it appears he wants more. “Take them off.”
I lock eyes with Saint, begging he doesn’t force me to bow to this pervert’s demands, but he maintains his apathetic façade. Yet underneath this disguise, I know he’ll always protect me.
“With all due respect, Aleksei, you asked me to show you, so please allow me to do my job.” Being called a job causes me to flinch as though he kicked me in the guts. I know it’s part of the plan, but it’s hard not to get lost in the past.
“You’re right. Sorry. I got carried away. Continue.” His politeness is beyond insulting, as he’s apologizing for suggesting Saint strip me when he whips me into submission.
This is so fucked up.
Saint walks around me and kicks my legs apart. I suppress the need to scream. He doesn’t give me any warning. I hear the vicious hiss slicing through the air just before the pain hits me. With a loud grunt, I propel forward but remain kneeling.
My ass throbs from where Saint brought down his belt, but I know he could have struck me a lot harder. When he hits me over the back of my thighs, I whimper but remain upright. This strike was softer than the first.
“Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
Whack.
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to cry. “I’m s-sorry, мастеp. I won’t disobey you a-again.”
Whack.
“Are you sure?” Even though Saint barely breaks a sweat from hitting me, his breathlessness reveals it’s taking every ounce of his willpower not to kill Aleksei.
When I hear the belt being swung into position, I cry out, “Yes! Yes. I’m sorry. I won’t d-do it again.”
I brace myself for another strike, but it doesn’t come. “Put down your dress.”
With shaky hands, I do as he says.
Since I’m facing away from Saint, I can’t see what’s going on, but I’m guessing from the silence it’s not good.
“That’s it?” Aleksei is far from impressed. It seems he will only be satisfied when I’m crying out in pain and begging for mercy.
“Yes. She submitted, did she not?”
Silence.
The air is thick with challenge. Saint’s methods aren’t satisfactory because Aleksei knows he could have been a lot crueler.
“She fought me like a wild cat. I think she likes you.”
My cheeks heat, but I squash down my embarrassment because this exercise was supposed to convince Aleksei otherwise. I quickly rack my brain, hoping to prove Aleksei wrong, but Saint is two steps ahead.
“She fears me,” he argues. “She doesn’t know you yet, but I’ve broken her. Just allow me to spend more time with her, and I promise, she will fear you too. I’m the only one who can break her.”  
“Very well. But if your methods don’t prove satisfactory, and I don’t see a change very soon, I will take over. Are we clear?”
My blood turns cold.
“We’re clear,” Saint replies with bite.
“I won’t have her behaving like a rabid dog because you know what happens to them?” Aleksei pauses while the room drops ten thousand degrees. “I shoot them.”
Make no mistake, he’s warning us both.
Saint grips the back of my neck, hinting I’m to stand. When I do, he leads me back over to the bed. He won’t look at me, and the detachment has me getting onto the bed, desperate for them to leave so I can process this on my own. Without him asking, I place my arms over my head after I lie down.
A tear leaks from my eye when he cuffs me, but I turn my cheek so he can’t see.
“Let’s go into my office. We have some things to discuss.” Just as Saint moves to rise, Aleksei says something which has me questioning how good of an actress I really am. “Gag her. You said she was shouting earlier.”
You’re going to be a good little girl, aren’t you, Willow?
I suddenly find it impossible to breathe.
I’m moments away from blowing our ruse when a tender caress floats across my flank. Though it’s a subtle touch, it’s enough. “That’s not necessary. She won’t scream.” Saint recognizes my panic; he knows what memories claw to the surface when I’m gagged.
“I said gag her,” Aleksei perseveres, needing to hold on to some semblance of control.
I know I told Saint to do whatever it takes, but that’s my hard limit, so I don’t know if I can stomach that. But I should know by now that Saint will always be the alpha. “Aleksei, you just said you’re willing to allow me to do this my way. Are you going back on your word?”
I don’t know why his word is so important. He’s a fucking criminal, for god’s sake. But I remember Saint saying that Aleksei does hold some honor among his men. I can only hope he’s right.
“So be it. But if I hear a peep out of her, it’ll be the last for quite some time.”
I gulp as his threat is filled with promise.
“She’ll be quiet,” Saint assures, speaking for me as he knows I’m close to breaking. “Let’s go.”
When he rises from the bed, I turn my cheek to look at him. But when I lock eyes with Aleksei instead, I realize I have to be more careful. Although we have convinced him today, tomorrow may not be as easy.
Saint doesn’t look back and is quick to leave. I soon find out why that is.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Aleksei blocks the doorway while I watch on in horror. He’s going to kill Saint and make me watch. We haven’t fooled him at all.
When Saint reaches into his pocket and produces the key to my cuffs, I sense he has a plan after all. Aleksei seems disappointed he surrendered it so easily.
Saint opens the door, hinting for Aleksei to move. He eventually does but not before he grins my way. The gesture sends a shiver down my spine.
This is only the beginning of things to come.


















BAD SAINT
Volume One
Monica James

I was kidnapped on my honeymoon by three masked men.
Blindfolded.
Bound.
Destination unknown.
I was told to stay silent and abide by their rules. But they didn’t realize I wasn’t a victim…not anymore.
The open sea was my backdrop for nine torturous days. During that time, glimmers of my fate were revealed by a man with the mysterious chartreuse-colored eyes. He should have scared me, but he didn’t.
He intrigued me. And I intrigued him.
He punished me when I didn’t listen, which was every single day. But beneath his cruelty, I sensed he was guarding a grave secret.
I was sold.
And in a game of poker, no less.
My buyer? A Russian mobster who likes to collect pretty things. Now that I know the truth, I only have one choice.
Sink or swim.
And when one fateful night presents me the opportunity, I take it. I just never anticipated my actions would leave me shipwrecked with my kidnapper.
He needs me alive. I want him dead.
But as days turn into weeks, one thing becomes clear—I should hate him…but I don’t.
My name is Willow.
His name is Saint.
Ironic, isn’t it? He bears a name that denotes nothing but holiness yet delivers nothing but hell. However, if this is hell on earth…God, save my soul.  







Buy It Now Links:
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iBooks: https://tinyurl.com/y3feoblp
BAD SAINT Play List: https://tinyurl.com/yxsufle5
UK
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y6rjcost
Australia
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y4nuggl3
Canada
Kindle: https://tinyurl.com/y2b7du7b















Bio
Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne Rice, William Shakespeare, and Emily Dickinson.
When she is not writing, Monica is busy running her own business, but she always finds a balance between the two. She enjoys writing honest, heartfelt, and turbulent stories, hoping to leave an imprint on her readers. She draws her inspiration from life.
She is a bestselling author in the U.S.A., Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Israel, and the U.K.
Monica James resides in Melbourne, Australia, with her wonderful family, and menagerie of animals. She is slightly obsessed with cats, chucks, and lip gloss, and secretly wishes she was a ninja on the weekends.
Stalk Me!
Website: http://monicajamesbooks.blogspot.com.au
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2EWZSyS
Reader Group: http://bit.ly/2nUaRyi