Outside the Lines by Beth Rhodes #BEP #COVERREVEAL @Bethanne_writes

Cover Reveal


Book Title: Outside the Lines
Author: Beth Rhodes
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 8, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

For the first time in her life, good-girl Maria Rodriguez throws aside caution for an all-consuming desire. She wants freedom from rules and her family looking over her shoulder. She wants the love she’s only ever dreamed of. But then that love walks away. Jaded bachelor David March doesn’t believe in love. His fling with the pretty Hispanic woman from California is as close to feeling as he wants to get. Now, he’s back home, burying himself in work and trying to forget.
Shortly after he leaves, Maria finds out she’s pregnant. Her first leap into freedom results in a life-changing consequence. She knows she has to find him. But what she finds is not what she expects. David is not the down-to-earth man he portrayed. And the love she remembers has been replaced by cold calculation and contracts. He lied to her once. Can she trust that a marriage agreement will bring back the love they once shared?


Maria watched the odometer for the miles as she rolled down the road. His turn-off should be another mile. Milton Trail, on the left. She turned. Point seven miles to the drive—according to Google, anyway. The fact that a residence had even popped up for the address had been a moment of victory in itself.

About fifty yards before the drive, the tree line broke. “Whoa.” She swallowed. “Okay. No problem.”

No problem! No problem!

The house was huge. Like an expensive, exclusive resort hotel, sitting on top of the snowy hill, like a castle from medieval times. It was stone and had wrought iron over the smaller windows. It had a humungous picture window across the north face. The double doors just to the left had to be at least eight feet tall.

There was one of those wreaths she’d seen in town on the left door.

“Holy…” She pulled into the drive, and for a moment debated turning around. She could leave town. He’d be none the wiser. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. “Shit. He probably owns the town.”

And that one thought jarred the fright from her soul.

Anger balled within her gut. He’d lied.

The man who’d come to Red Bluff was about to learn the truth. He’d made no promises to her, but he’d loved her like no one else before. She couldn’t live with herself, keeping such a secret from him. It seemed unfair, cruel.

With one final nod, she pulled up the driveway.

It was now or never.

There was an eerie silence as she approached the front door. Maybe this was what it was like to be ultra-rich. Her family wasn’t poor, not by a long shot, but her home was always filled with noise. With so many siblings, it was no wonder.

She lifted the knocker and let go.

A tall woman in all black except for the white apron that circled her waist threw open the door. Black grandma shoes on her feet and black stockings. Her eyes flashed a warning that had Maria hesitating to speak.

“There you are! My god, where are they sending temps from now? Concord? Didn’t Jerry tell you to use the back door?” The woman frowned, grabbed Maria by the arm, and pulled her through the door.

Adrenaline rushed through Maria’s system, and she tugged her arm free. “Hey.” She stood back, putting distance between herself and the crazy lady.

“You’ll need to move your car before Mr. March gets home. Maybe you should do that now.” The woman worried her lip for a fraction of a second before making the decision. “Yes, better do it now.”

“Uh, look. I’m sorry—”

“And you should be.” The woman glanced at her watch. “You’re two hours late! Monday is a big day around here. I asked for someone to come early. I have the entire main floor to clean and get ready for the New Year Library Tea. I can’t very well get someone to clean on Sunday. Unless you want to drive all the way up here tomorrow morning. Hmm?” Her brow rose on the rhetorical question.

She thought Maria was a maid? “I’m not—”

“Of course you’re not. None of you people ever are—”

Temper blinded her for a mere moment. “Now, look here, lady—”

A door slammed open from down the long hall, cutting Maria off.

“Ree?” Shock rode the familiar voice of seduction.

Maria froze, surprise taking her breath away. But not surprise, exactly. He was the reason she was in this frozen tundra that was Vermont.

David March.


Meet the Author

Twelve years ago, Beth Rhodes tried her hand at fanfiction. Trixie Belden, her favorite school girl sleuth, needed a chance at romance—doesn’t everyone? A romantic at heart, Beth believes everyone deserves a good dose of love. Earning her MRS in college, she married her own real-life hero. For her, love is the one language every human shares. She and her husband raise their six children in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains where she indulges in her addiction to caffeine and romance novels. Keep up with her crazy life by visiting her webpage http://www.authorbethrhodes.com.

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Entwined by Harper Miller #BEP #Releasedayblitz @authorharpmill

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Release Day Blitz


Book Title: Entwined
Author: Harper Miller
Genre: Erotica/Interracial & Multicultural Romance
Release Date: November 5, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

After twenty years of devotion to Uncle Sam, I called it quits. I was wired and looking to get into some trouble. Trouble found me all right, in the form of a hot-bodied fox.

Little did I know how much she’d rock my world.

The names are all fake, details have been fudged, but you’ll get the gist of what went down.

You’re getting one hell of a tale. This is my story.

*Disclaimer* This is a novelette. Not a short story, novella, or novel. This story features an F/F/M ménage à trois scenario. If ménage stories are not your cup of tea, and you are easily offended by threesomes and lesbian sex, you should bypass this story. Content is intended for a mature audience, 18+.

Entwined is the third installment in The Kinky Connect Chronicles. The Kinky Connect Chronicles are short erotic stories/novelettes all wrapped up in neat little bows. These stories are standalones. No cliffhangers in the lot!


Her screen name reminded me of that Beastie Boys tune “She’s Crafty.” I liked her direct approach. Cosplay? That was unusual, but hey, I had attended Comic-Con International back in 2013 after my trip to Hawaii—right before I left for Germany—and boy, was it an experience. Tons of hot women in spandex, body paint, and barely-there costumes; Comic-book characters and superheroes are a lot sexier than you’d think.

Since she said she was looking for the boy-next-door type, I’m guessing she meant clean-cut. If so, I was right up her alley. My years in the military led me down a narrow and regimented path. I didn’t drink, much; I certainly didn’t do drugs. I guess compared to her, I might’ve looked boring. Aside from two tattoos—a tiger that took up most of my right shoulder and upper arm, and the Hawaiian word Kākou on my left bicep that I got about a year after I joined the military—there wasn’t anything edgy about me. But I wouldn’t know if I was her type until I took the first step and messaged her.

I’ll admit I hesitated. We seemed like opposites. Based on looks alone, we were so different. Her, a black woman with an unorthodox style, and me a Polynesian-and-white guy with an athletic build. I certainly wasn’t as fashion-forward and daring with my attire as she seemed to be. All I needed was a cool opening line to get her attention. Show her that the clean-cut “unassuming” boy next door can lay pipe just the way she liked it if given a chance.

I knew what I was bringing to the table. She’d never forget me.

I clicked on the box next to her username and composed my message before hitting send. Nothing heavy, just an icebreaker—an icebreaker that was certain to make an impression.

Sgt4U: Knock knock.

About a two minutes passed before she replied.

CraftyBabexXx: Hmm, I’ll play along. Who’s there?

Sgt4U: Orange.

CraftyBabexXx: Orange who?

Sgt4U: Orange you glad someone had the balls to be original on this thing?

There was a long pause. My lame joke was funny in my head. Maybe it didn’t translate well in a text format. Hey, I should have at least gotten points for being unique.




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Meet the Author

Harper Miller is a thirty-something native New Yorker. She’s traveled the world and lived in a variety of places but always finds her way back to the Big Apple.

A lackluster love life leaves time to explore new interests, for Harper it is writing. The Sweetest Taboo: An Unconventional Romance is her debut novel. In her mind, the perfect Alpha male possesses intellect, humor, and a kinky streak that rivals the size of California.

When she isn’t writing, Harper utilizes her graduate degree in the field of medical research. She enjoys fitness-related activities, drinking copious amounts of wine and going on bad dates.

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The Rider List by J T Charles Release Day Blitz @jtcharlesbooks

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Release Day Blitz


Book Title: The Rider List
Author: JT Charles
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: September 28, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Book Blurb

Evan: She has no idea who I really am. It’s the perfect situation. After an incident that causes me to re-evaluate my life, I’ve come here to escape the demands of my career. The last thing I expect to find is a woman who doesn’t see me through the prism of my fame. She’s that woman, the one who allows me to unleash desires I’ve suppressed for years.
Audrey: He’s gorgeous and brazenly confident. He’s exactly who I don’t need to meet at this point in my life, but I have no choice. Drawn in by his relentless seduction, I’m soon taking chances I never thought I’d take, shedding my fears and letting him over my protective walls. And then there’s “the rider list,” always surprising me, testing my limits, exploring our fantasies, leading to the most sensual experiences of my life.
What starts as a perfect distraction for both of us quickly becomes an entanglement of scorching hot sex, closely held secrets that could tear it all apart, and moments that will shape us for the rest of our lives.
**Due to mature content, this book is recommended for readers 18 and older.**
(This is a full-length novel with no cliff-hanger.)






The sun peaks out from behind the clouds, making a little steam rise from the wet sidewalk. This early, and already the humidity is setting in. I round the corner, beach view off to my right, the path lined with palmetto trees and knee-high beach grass in the sand.
I walk up the steps to the porch and knock on the door. As expected, there’s no answer. It wouldn’t hurt to do one walk-through of the place before he arrives, so I use my master key and go in.
Everything looks clean and perfect, the air conditioner is set at 72, drawing the humidity out of the air. There’s a welcome basket on the counter that contains nothing on his list. I consider removing it, but decide to leave it. I go upstairs and check the six rooms. Everything looks good.
If he’s staying by himself, he’ll surely be using the master bedroom, so I go back downstairs.
The blinds are closed, so I walk around to the other side of the bed to open them and almost trip over a set of bags.
“Hello.” The voice behind me is low and smooth.
I turn and see a man dressed in blue shorts. His white t-shirt is off but it’s slung over his left shoulder. He’s wearing a baseball cap, but I don’t know what the insignia on it means. His shoulders and chest are broad, and his left bicep flexes a little as he leans on the doorjamb. He looks like someone who just walked in off the beach, not at all like the guy I was expecting.
“I’m Audrey Mitchell. Mr. Lewis, right?”
I step away from the window and toward him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were already here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” he says, cutting me off mid-sentence. “I’m used to finding strange people in my bedroom.”
I pause, unsure what to say. I’ve just apologized.
He smiles. “Relax.” He looks down at my chest and I think he’s appraising me, looking at my boobs, but he looks up immediately. “I’m just fucking with you, Audrey. Nice to meet you.” He lifts a hand.
This is the first time in my life anyone has ever said any form of the word “fuck” when we first met. I don’t sense arrogance from this guy, but rather a confidence I’ve never seen in anyone I’ve met.
I take his hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Lewis.”
“Please, call me Adam.”
I’m suddenly aware that he’s still holding my hand. Or am I holding his? I pull back a little, and he lets my hand go.
“Adam,” I say. “When did you arrive?”
“A little after four this morning.”
So Jeanine checked him in and forgot to mention that critical bit of information to me. She was hurrying out the door, though.
“I was just taking a walk on the beach.” He pushes off the doorjamb and walks past me, to the bathroom. I notice he has something in his mouth. It’s white, and I realize it’s a mint. I hear the water running in the sink, then splashing, and figure he’s washing his face.
This is the part that’s always hardest for me. The small talk. I’m not into small talk. It’s boring, it’s forced, usually meaningless. It’s the one part of the job that I don’t like, but that goes with any job, I suppose.
“Hope you didn’t get caught in the rain,” I say.
He steps out of the bathroom, blotting his face with a hand towel. He has taken his hat off. His hair is sandy blond and short. “How long have you worked here?”
I take his question as more small talk and answer, “Two weeks,” but I’m wrong about the chit-chat.
“How old are you?”
It’s an odd question. I’ve never been asked this before at this job or any other, but I see no smooth way to refuse to answer. “Twenty-two.”
He nods, then tosses the towel back in the bathroom. He takes a few steps toward me. Close enough that I can see his green eyes.
Usually, I would be put off by a guy staring into my eyes like he does, but it doesn’t bother me at all. I look back at him, then his gaze travels down to my chest, legs, feet, then back up. A brazen assessing scan if I ever saw one.
I’ve had guys check me out before, but they usually try to do it secretly. He doesn’t make the slightest effort. It’s almost like he wants me to know.
“I need to know that I can trust you. That I can count on your discretion.” I can smell the peppermint on his breath, and God, the hard lines of his jaw make me want to reach up and touch them.
I swallow hard, suddenly finding myself wondering about him. “Of course,” I say, and it’s no lie. In fact, I’d be breaking company policy if I were to violate any guest’s privacy. If that’s what he means. What does he mean?

Meet the Author

J.T. Charles lives in the southeastern United States and is the author of The Rider List.

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