Blog Tour 'Living A lie' by M.L. Kacy

Blog Tour:

Living A Lie

(Part One)

by

M.L. Kacy

Feb 18th - Feb 25th

In your early adult years, you think that you know it all. Well that’s how I was looking back on my life. Nearly nineteen-years later, it’s true what they say, you always learn by your mistakes, mistakes make you into a stronger person. Boy, did I make a hell of a lot of mistakes. I never thought that my life would turn out the way that it did. There are only four things that I would never regret, my four beautiful children. They were, and still are, my saving grace, my redemption of sorts. When the darkness became too much, thoughts of them would pull me into the light.

This is my story, it’s not a story that is all sweetness and light. It’s a story of love, regret, devastation, darkness and maybe a little redemption.

So here we are, I shall start from the beginning.
Part One

***Disclaimer- Some of the content in this book can cause triggers for some. Also, contains profanity, erotic scenes and only suitable for readers 18+***

                                           

Jacob turned out to be a sweet talker. He stood there, dressed in jeans that had made his arse look as if it needed squeezing. His chest, snuggly wrapped in a tight fitting, black t-shirt, jet-black hair was worn short, and this divine aftershave I had never before smelt; but it had a lemon undertone that emphasized his own mouth-watering, natural, musky scent. Man, his eyes, were stunning. Emerald green, clear, and hypnotic, surrounded by lush, long, thick, black lashes that tempted me to do things I had never before thought of, or wanted. Those stunning eyes, combined with a sensual mouth, and that was it, I was completely lost.

There have been many times that I have opened this book and closed it again, as I was never sure it would be received well in the book community, but then I thought I am writing this for me, and doing something I always wanted to do.
This book is based on true of events in my own life, so it has in some form been therapeutic to write. Words have a way of healing someone, so I will carry on writing, included events that have happened and taking you all on a journey with me.

I have been involved in the indie community for a number of years and have always loved how everyone comes together in support of each other. 
I love writing and reading, living life with my family, and always coming up with new ideas and putting then in to practice. 
I hope you all will carry on this journey with me.

 

 

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Fourteen Shades of F*cked Up

FOURTEEN SHADES OF F*CKED UP! AVAILABLE NOW!

Roses are red. So is passion. And blood. Fourteen authors have brought you stories of pain and love. Struggle and dissonance. Lust and depravity. Whether your poison is a naughty husband and wife, a kinky night out on the town, edging toward the pinnacle of pain and pleasure, or something a little more supernatural, come indulge in your deepest, darkest, most f*cked up cravings. We promise we won’t judge...if you won’t. Note: This anthology contains content that is not appropriate for readers under the age of 18.


PETITION DENIED by Alyson Hale A rich lawyer gives his beloved wife the punishment of a lifetime after finding divorce papers in the mail.

DARKNESS CONSUMED by Ariel Marie An assassin's life is never easy--and neither is leaving the one you love in order to save them.

EXCITABLE by Brittney Coon When a dominant is sold as a submissive to another dominant, a dramatic power struggle ensues.

CONSENSUAL by Cristina Slough A couple tries to resuscitate their broken marriage by going to their first swingers party.

F*CKING ADDICTED by J.A. Kerr Sex addict Aiden knows his attraction to fellow addict Keira is dangerous--but then, so is he.

FOREVER PROMISES by J.L. Baldwin When the demons come out to play and stake their claim, there are always fatal flaws.

A STRANGE AND DISTANT SAFETY by Jennifer Loring For one young man, the nightmare scenario of abduction and torture becomes the key to unlocking his ultimate fantasy.

WICKED GAMES by Lilly James Lyle and Ivy live for their toxic relationship, but all wicked games eventually come to an end.

AFFLICTION by Marie Skye A prominent doctor enjoys inflicting pain on his enemies, until he begins to question his original intent.

STORY OF US by ML Rodriguez He is the first to introduce her to carnal pleasures she never dreamed of, but will he be the last?

HER MISTAKE by N. Mills Dysfunctional: an adjective that embodies Jezabelle's entire childhood and everything she strives to avoid, until a smooth-talking biker ruins all of her plans.

MISS X by Quinn She calls herself a "professional mistress"--no love, no commitment, no future, until she meets a strangely familiar man who shows her how to feel again.

KILLER DOM by S. Valentine Sometimes lust can carry you down surprising and dangerous paths...

ANOTHER LAST GLANCE by Zack Halford A terminally ill billionaire uses an experimental procedure to feel endless ecstasy, but all he really wants is one last moment with his true love.

PURCHASE LINKS: Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/2kDhgKo Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/2lI1RZz For more teasers, check out our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/FourteenShades/ HTML CODES

New Release 'The Velvet Chair ' by C.P. Mandara

The Velvet Chair is Book One in a Dark Erotica Series called 'Velvet Lies.'

Blurb

My name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t own, I’m working on. Life was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life, demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so for the time being I need to be his little lapdog. I’ll marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power he can handle... for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down for her legal counsel. Excerpt - Jennifer My hands were visibly shaking. Flexing my fingers repeatedly, I tried to still the tremors, but they were not to be subdued. It was hardly surprising. Today was the day I walked up the aisle and married… a monster. I was under no illusions that Mark Matthews would forgive me for what had happened, and I could hardly blame him. He’d been manipulated and sexually tortured until he could take no more, and then he’d been neatly cornered. He might have agreed to my father’s demands, but he’d come snapping and biting, feral as a wolf. I sighed. Today was supposed to be a magical day – every little girl’s fantasy. A gigantic cathedral, a sea of flowers, a big fancy dress, and the man of my dreams. I’d imagined it would be filled with tears of happiness and protestations of love. How stupid was I? Inhaling a shaky breath, I wondered what Mark would do with me. Having always been the sacrificial lamb in this family, today I was being sent off to the slaughterhouse. When I’d mentioned this to Michael, I’d refused to call him ‘Dad’ a long time ago, he’d laughed and told me to stop being so melodramatic. As if that made me feel any better. Dear old Dad couldn’t care less whether I lived or died, so I didn’t waste my breath trying to plead with him. All I had to do was play my part in this charade and he would be happy. I needed to keep Michael happy at all costs. The trouble was, in order to play my part, Matthews had to trust me, and I had a feeling that trying to coax that emotion out of him was going to be almost as impossible as trying to convince the Queen of England to relinquish her throne. Matthews wasn’t the sort to trust easily, and now that I had lost what little ground I had gained with him, I would be back to square one. Wrong, I thought grimly. I was going to be at least twenty stories below square one, trying to claw my way out with nothing more than my bare fingernails. Facing up to facts, I stifled a sob. The man was going to annihilate me. Excerpt - Mark As we pulled out of the Savoy’s car park, Jennifer was a mess. I had little sympathy for her. Each heartbeat that tore through my chest was full of fire, which spat sparks and burned like acid. I was sitting next to a traitor. My body throbbed with emotion, and not the good kind. I had to admit the dress she’d changed into, just a tiny part of the massive trousseau that was now being shipped to my estate, was rather distracting. It was designed in a glistening oyster silk that caught the light every time she moved. It was seductive enough without the two splits that ran up the side of her thighs, and when she’d seated herself in my car, revealing a vast expanse of soft creamy flesh, my blood pressure had taken a direct hit. My temper was already simmering in a large saucepan full of resentment, but that turned up the heat considerably. I did not want to be attracted to Redcliff’s daughter. I wanted to abhor her with all that was holy. Desire would weaken my anger, and that must not be allowed to happen. I needed to have a stern talk with my overactive libido and let it know who was boss around these parts. Little did Miss Redcliff know, but she wouldn’t be requiring clothes for the duration of her stay. I would thoughtfully be providing her with all sorts of novel uniforms, and when she began to bore me, she could just go around naked. I’d decided to train her up to be a sex slave extraordinaire, and it was going to be an exacting and rigorous process. She’d be allowed six hours of sleep a day, and the rest of her hours would be accounted for. Cooking, cleaning, ironing, servicing me, pleasing me, attending to her own personal fitness regime, and some more ‘standard’ training sessions. Failure to comply with her new routine would produce punishments the likes of which she had never experienced. After her first misdemeanour had been dealt with, I didn’t think there would be many more. I was in bastard-mode, and the girl was going to know about it. She had just become my property and I would deal with her however I saw fit. The mark of my ownership would be indelibly printed on her soul by the time I’d finished with her. The damn woman was going to fear the sound of my footsteps, her body would shrink away from me every time I approached her and she would learn to obey my every whisper or suffer the consequences. My lawyer had already drawn up two sets of papers, one for an annulment and the others pertained to our divorce. It would probably take all the fun out of the arrangement if Jennifer opted for an annulment, so I didn’t intend to scare her witless in the first few days, but I fully expected the divorce papers to be completed inside of a week. I just needed to push the woman to her absolute limit, and then smash her body into the next dimension. If there was one thing I was good at, it was psychological and physical torture. Okay, so that might be two things. In any case, I’d get those papers signed, sealed, and delivered back to Michael Redcliff before the week was out. Piece of cake.

Buy Links:

Get It On Amazon!

Enter The Giveaway:

Enter HERE

A little bit about C.P. Mandara:

Christina Mandara is a USA TODAY bestselling author and tends to write dark romance with lashings of kinky naughtiness. Her favourite pastime is travelling, and if it involves sun, sea and… sand then it’s all good. In her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies. She's a big fan of BDSM in all of its glorious forms, and her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.

FB: https://www.facebook.com/CPMandara

Twitter: https://twitter.com/cpmandara

Blog: http://christinamandara.wordpress.com/

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7113521.C_P_Mandara

Amazon Author Page: http://author.to/CPMandara

FOR BLOGGER:

The Velvet Chair is Book One in a Dark Erotica Series called 'Velvet Lies.'

Blurb

My name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t own, I’m working on.

Life was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life, demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so for the time being I need to be his little lapdog.

I’ll marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power he can handle... for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down for her legal counsel.


Excerpt - Jennifer

My hands were visibly shaking. Flexing my fingers repeatedly, I tried to still the tremors, but they were not to be subdued. It was hardly surprising. Today was the day I walked up the aisle and married… a monster. I was under no illusions that Mark Matthews would forgive me for what had happened, and I could hardly blame him. He’d been manipulated and sexually tortured until he could take no more, and then he’d been neatly cornered. He might have agreed to my father’s demands, but he’d come snapping and biting, feral as a wolf.

 I sighed. Today was supposed to be a magical day – every little girl’s fantasy. A gigantic cathedral, a sea of flowers, a big fancy dress, and the man of my dreams. I’d imagined it would be filled with tears of happiness and protestations of love. How stupid was I?

 Inhaling a shaky breath, I wondered what Mark would do with me. Having always been the sacrificial lamb in this family, today I was being sent off to the slaughterhouse. When I’d mentioned this to Michael, I’d refused to call him ‘Dad’ a long time ago, he’d laughed and told me to stop being so melodramatic. As if that made me feel any better. Dear old Dad couldn’t care less whether I lived or died, so I didn’t waste my breath trying to plead with him. All I had to do was play my part in this charade and he would be happy. I needed to keep Michael happy at all costs. The trouble was, in order to play my part, Matthews had to trust me, and I had a feeling that trying to coax that emotion out of him was going to be almost as impossible as trying to convince the Queen of England to relinquish her throne. Matthews wasn’t the sort to trust easily, and now that I had lost what little ground I had gained with him, I would be back to square one. Wrong, I thought grimly. I was going to be at least twenty stories below square one, trying to claw my way out with nothing more than my bare fingernails. Facing up to facts, I stifled a sob. The man was going to annihilate me.

Excerpt - Mark

As we pulled out of the Savoy’s car park, Jennifer was a mess. I had little sympathy for her. Each heartbeat that tore through my chest was full of fire, which spat sparks and burned like acid. I was sitting next to a traitor. My body throbbed with emotion, and not the good kind.

I had to admit the dress she’d changed into, just a tiny part of the massive trousseau that was now being shipped to my estate, was rather distracting. It was designed in a glistening oyster silk that caught the light every time she moved. It was seductive enough without the two splits that ran up the side of her thighs, and when she’d seated herself in my car, revealing a vast expanse of soft creamy flesh, my blood pressure had taken a direct hit.

 My temper was already simmering in a large saucepan full of resentment, but that turned up the heat considerably. I did not want to be attracted to Redcliff’s daughter. I wanted to abhor her with all that was holy. Desire would weaken my anger, and that must not be allowed to happen. I needed to have a stern talk with my overactive libido and let it know who was boss around these parts.

Little did Miss Redcliff know, but she wouldn’t be requiring clothes for the duration of her stay. I would thoughtfully be providing her with all sorts of novel uniforms, and when she began to bore me, she could just go around naked. I’d decided to train her up to be a sex slave extraordinaire, and it was going to be an exacting and rigorous process. She’d be allowed six hours of sleep a day, and the rest of her hours would be accounted for. Cooking, cleaning, ironing, servicing me, pleasing me, attending to her own personal fitness regime, and some more ‘standard’ training sessions.

Failure to comply with her new routine would produce punishments the likes of which she had never experienced. After her first misdemeanour had been dealt with, I didn’t think there would be many more. I was in bastard-mode, and the girl was going to know about it. She had just become my property and I would deal with her however I saw fit. The mark of my ownership would be indelibly printed on her soul by the time I’d finished with her. The damn woman was going to fear the sound of my footsteps, her body would shrink away from me every time I approached her and she would learn to obey my every whisper or suffer the consequences.

My lawyer had already drawn up two sets of papers, one for an annulment and the others pertained to our divorce. It would probably take all the fun out of the arrangement if Jennifer opted for an annulment, so I didn’t intend to scare her witless in the first few days, but I fully expected the divorce papers to be completed inside of a week. I just needed to push the woman to her absolute limit, and then smash her body into the next dimension. If there was one thing I was good at, it was psychological and physical torture. Okay, so that might be two things. In any case, I’d get those papers signed, sealed, and delivered back to Michael Redcliff before the week was out. Piece of cake.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon 

And how about a GIVEAWAY?

Enter HERE

A little bit about C.P. Mandara:

   

Christina Mandara is a USA TODAY bestselling author and tends to write dark romance with lashings of kinky naughtiness. Her favourite pastime is travelling, and if it involves sun, sea and… sand then it’s all good. In her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies. She's a big fan of BDSM in all of its glorious forms, and her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.

FB: https://www.facebook.com/CPMandara

Twitter: https://twitter.com/cpmandara

Blog: http://christinamandara.wordpress.com/

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7113521.C_P_Mandara

Amazon Author Page: http://author.to/CPMandara

Cover Reveal 'Sweet Venom' Kirsty-Anne Still

 

Title: Sweet Venom
Author: Kirsty-Anne Still
Release Date: Feb 28, 2017
Add to TBR

 

 

 

There are two sides to every story.

Until there are three.

And ours isn't for the faint of hearts.

***

SWEET VENOM is a crazy in love novel set in three point of views - crazy, crazier and craziest. This is a love triangle that is not made for those looking for an easy love story or an obvious end.
If I were you, I'd be careful who you fall for.

This is STANDALONE.
Meant for mature readers due to murder, violence and sex.

 

 

 

 

“Sorry!” I exclaim, noticing a young woman in a purple satin hoody. “I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice delicate. “Flower,” she says, a small, polite smile lays upon her pink lips and holds out a freshly cut pink orchid with a pink ribbon around it. “Treasure it.”

I take it, mesmerized by the beauty of the orchid. I look up, but she’s no longer looking at me and starts to slip away, but I grab her wrist before she can disappear.

“Thank you,” I tell her, grateful.

“No,” she starts to say, a bright smile bears her teeth. “Thank you.”

I let her go, leaving her to continue on through the groups of people.

“Ashley!” Lawson yells above the crowds and I look up to see him using a street light to get him higher than the crowds of people. “C’mon!”

I look once more behind me, noticing the blonde’s gone. I face toward Lawson who urges me to get to him and I listen. I keep the flower close to me and make my way through the masses. I catch up, the flower protected against my chest as I try to get passed people without damaging it. I make it to the front of a shop where everyone’s waiting and as I fall before them, I allow the flower the breathe.

“That got crazy,” I say, exhaling heavily. “But got given this,” I mention, putting the flower out.

A white tag declaring MARDI GRAS falls from my palm and I look proud with this collectable.

“By who?” Lawson barks, stepping forward to grab my hand. “Who gave you this?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking at the orchid. “Some girl … she had a hood up, but she was blond. Why does it matter?”

Lawson says nothing, but takes the flower from me. His gentle with it, delicately touching it as if it’s the most fragile things he’s ever been given. I watch him pick at the ribbon with the tag on it. His face pales and he returns his gaze to me.

“It’s got your name on it,” he states and he spins the Mardi Gras tag to show my name in clear, curly red lettering.

My heart sinks.

“What?” I ask, reaching for it. “How is that possible?”

“Where is she?” he asks, his voice taut. “Which direction did she go in?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him, trying not to let fear get a grip on me. “Back towards our balcony, I guess. Who gave me this?”

I can see that Lawson doesn’t want to reply. His jaw becomes tight and he wets his lips, shuffling between his feet. I also see his effort not to run in that direction making the situation even harder to understand.

“Lawson,” I say, trying my hardest not to sound frightful. “What the fuck is going on?”

My question puts him more on edge, so he’s looking over his shoulder at everyone behind him. It’s now I see that they all hold the same solemn, bereaved look he did when he saw the pink orchid. Slowly, he turns back to me with a severely grave look in his eyes and he seems to have entered a trance as he looks back at the orchid. Gradually, he brings his eyes from the flower to mine and I see fear in them.

“She’ll rain down petals before she rains down hell,” he whispers, reluctantly giving me the flower back.

“What?” I ask, feeling my brow tightening. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Ashley,” Lawson starts, trying to steady his voice as his eyes fall once again onto the flower in my hand. “That’s the mark of death.”

 

 

 

Author, graphic designer, book worm, peppermint tea obsessive.

Kirsty-Anne stumbled across her love for writing as she started university. Over the last couple of years she's found the style of writing that best defines her and her work. Her favourite genres to write are romantic suspense with dark themes, but loves to push her boundaries.