Tuesday, July 25, 2017






Title: Last Call

Series: The Landing Strip
Authors: Emily Minton & Shelley Springfield
Genre: Romance/Erotica
Release Date: July 24, 2017




Blurb


He's a
fighter...
And he
never gives up.
After
giving the last sixteen years of his life to Uncle Sam, Lark Shelton finally
puts down his gun and hangs up his uniform. Opening The Landing Strip bar with
his two best friends and brothers at arms seems like the perfect escape from
his past.
One-night
stands are all he will commit to, but when he encounters the feisty and sensual
Paisley
Black
, Lark longs for something more—something deeper than his typical
hook-ups. She's everything he never knew he wanted, and he’s determined not to
let her go.









Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

(Warning: Sexual Situation and Adult Language)

I want to
taste her, have her flavor in my mouth. This is something I do not do. At
least, not in a long damn time. I fuck. I do it hard and fast, getting my
partner and myself off as quickly as possible. With other women, there is no
damn way I would have even considered putting my mouth where so many others
have been before. With Paisley, it’s different. I want to know all of her,
every damn inch.
Grabbing
the sides of her panties, I wait for her to lift her ass and pull them down her
legs. When I finally lay eyes on her glistening pussy, my mouth begins to
water. Her lips are a pretty shade of pink with her excitement causing them to
glisten with need. Her clit… Fuck, it’s amazing. It’s deep red, standing proud,
and begging for my attention.
I open her
up with my fingers, sliding them from top to bottom. I coat them with her
juices and slowly push one inside of her. I add another and move them in and
out of her depths. She’s tight, so fucking tight that my cock thumps against my
zipper, wanting to get loose.
 When she starts to whimper, I pull them out
and reach up to give her clit a gentle twist. I finally lower my head, getting
my first taste of her, and nearly lose my fucking mind. Her flavor is
outstanding, amazing, like manna from heaven. It’s like nothing I have ever
tasted before. There is no way to label it, other than simply delicious.
I slide my
fingers into her again, crooking them just enough to add to her pleasure. My
mouth goes to her clit, sealing over it and sucking it deep into my mouth. When
my teeth graze over her nub, her ass raises off the desk and she lets out a
moan.
“Yes!” she
shouts, throwing her head back. “Just like that.”
I keep up
my assault, gliding my fingers in and out, faster and faster. I suck harder,
using my teeth to add to the pleasure. Within seconds, she starts to contract
around my fingers. She’s close, so fucking close. I want to get her there, have
her come from just my mouth and fingers. Then later, I want her to do it again
around my cock. Biting down with a little more force, I add a touch of pain to
the game and push her over the edge.
“Oh my
God,” she moans as she convulses around my fingers. “Lark.”
I smile
around her clit and give it one more swipe of my tongue. After another few
seconds, not wanting to cut her pleasure short, I slowly slide my fingers out.
I give her sensitive pussy a quick pat and bring my fingers to my mouth to get
one last taste of her before standing up. Once I’m on my feet again, I reach
around and pull out my wallet.
“Hate to
disappoint you, mon cheri, but I’m
not God.” Taking out a condom, I shoot her a wink. “Just a simple man.”








Emily Minton


USA Today
Bestselling author, Emily Minton is a Kentucky native. She is proud to call the
Bluegrass State her home. She claims she bleeds blue–Wildcat Blue! She has been
married to her husband, David, for over twenty years. They share two wonderful
children.




Shelley Springfield


Shelley was
born and raised in Kentucky and doesn't see herself leaving the bluegrass state
anytime soon. Shelley and her husband have been together for sixteen years, and
they share three beautiful daughters and one handsome son.








Giveaway

























Pre-order exclusively via


Coming July 31st




















































Matthew

Drafted first round pick when I was seventeen, playing first line at eighteen, branded NHL's bad boy at nineteen. At twenty-three I was cut from the team and living back home with my parents. A knock on the door brought an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. All I had to do was prove I learned from my mistakes, so no way would I fall for a chick with a pouty mouth even if I wanted to spend all day devouring it.

Karrie

When my father gave me a job, I had no idea it would be to babysit some washed up NHL player. He wanted me to be his chaperone, his overpaid babysitter. I thought it was a joke. Then I met him, Matthew Grant. I wasn’t prepared for this particular bad boy. He’s not only hot but he’s arrogant and kinda sweet in a 'you make me crazy' kind of way.
Basically now that he’s finished screwing up his life, he’s decided to turn mine upside down.


She’s the first thing I’ve ever wanted more than hockey.

He’s the guy I know I should stay away from.

But what if this thing that started out so wrong turns into something so perfect?




























   Matthew Cooper Stone is my stepfather, the Cooper Stone who’s the best person to ever skate. He holds every single record that’s out there because he’s just that fucking good.
   “What the fuck are you doing?”
   I didn’t even have a chance to say hello before Cooper’s voice filled the room. I groaned and turned over to see that he was on speakerphone. My finger must have touched it by accident. “Matthew, seriously, I’m one second from flying out there and yanking you off the fucking ice.”
    I was twenty-one and already being benched and scratched.
   I was no chump. I was drafted first over all. The day still played in my mind. “The Los Angeles Royals choose Matthew Grant.” The minute my name was said, I sat there in shock while my little sister was yelling and my mother, Parker, had tears running down her cheeks while her face lit up with happiness and pride. Cooper was the first to grab me and stand me up.
   “Go get that fucking jersey.” His voice was loud in my ear. My mother was next. “I’m so proud of you, Matthew, so, so proud.”
   I kissed her cheek and walked down the stairs toward the stage from where the general manager, the owner, and the coach all looked at me. When I walked on stage, I tried to hold my tears in.
   Taking the owner’s hand in mine, I shook it and thanked him. Putting that jersey on was surreal. Posing for pictures was a blur. I got so drunk that night I don’t remember much, except Cooper having to carry me inside while I pledged my love to my mother, my sister, and the trees around us.
   Usually, once you get drafted, you start off on their farm team, but not me. I was on the starting line. I was up to my ears in silicone. There would be a different girl every night, everyone wanting to get a piece of me. The star of the team. Then my game started to slip. The late nights took a toll on me and my body. Three years later, I was sent down to the farm team. You’d think I would wake up, but no, not me. I just partied harder. I was on the front page of almost every single tabloid magazine that you could think of.
   Every single summer I went back home, spending the time training hard with Cooper riding my ass, promising him that I was out of the party phase, but the minute my feet landed back in L.A., it was back to the booze and the puck bunnies. Another three years later, I was put on wavers. When no one picked me up, I packed up and went back home. For two years, I played hockey at home in charity games, till the GM from the New York Stingers came knocking at my door. Robert Western.
   Cooper, Mom, and I sat down with him. My hands shook with nerves, my legs bouncing with happiness that someone actually wanted me.
  “We want to offer him a one-year contract, with certain rules.” He eyed me and then Cooper. I knew Cooper had called in a favor.
   “What is it?” I asked, holding my breath.
   “Chaperone.”
    I was about to get up and say fuck that when Cooper put his hand on mine and blurted out, “He’ll do it.”
   I looked at him while he glared at me. My mother put a hand on top of her husband’s. United. Always.
   Robert slapped his hands together. “Matthew, you, my friend, are going to bring another cup to New York.” He got up to shake my hand and then Cooper’s, slapping him on the arm. “Who knows, you may also knock this asshole off a throne or two.”
   Cooper laughed out loud, but I knew he would be the one egging me on, the one daring me to push him off. He would also be the first one coming to congratulate me if I ever did it.
   He had come into my life when I’d needed a male figure the most. I just hadn’t known it. He showed me that you can fall in love with your whole heart and everything will fall into place. He showed me that you fight for what you want. But most of all, he showed me that love is a gift and once it’s given, you cherish it.
   So now here I am on the plane getting ready to land in New York. I have to meet the owner of the team and the PR people tomorrow at noon. I scroll through my social media sites while I wait for the doors to open. My sister is tagging me in old photos of us from Mom and Cooper’s wedding. Feels like it was just yesterday. When you see the way Cooper looks at my mother, you know he loves her with all his heart. He would walk to the ends of the earth for her.
   I press the heart emoji on the picture and then hear the ping of the seat belt sign telling us we can stand up. I grab my leather jacket and slide it on, put on my aviators, and grab my leather duffel bag. Walking out of the plane, I nod at the two flight attendants, who both slipped me their numbers. Numbers I left in the side of the seat.
   Fresh start. It’s time to make my parents proud of me. Time to show the world that Matthew Grant is here for good this time.
   On my way to my hotel in Times Square, I look out the window of the yellow cab zigzagging its way through traffic. Nothing in the world beats the cab drivers in New York City. You sit back and hold your breath while you pray to not end up being slammed forward. We reach the W hotel. I swipe my card through the card holder in the back, thanking him. I don’t even have time to close the door before he races off from the curb.
   I enter and check in without having anything to say. The woman at reception starts going through her routine talk. I cut in. “What floor is the gym on?”
   She smiles at me, telling me the information while giving me her private number in case I have any other questions.
   I nod at her and then walk up to my room. It’s the size of a closet. Welcome to New York. I take my phone out to send a text to Cooper.     
   Landed. Going to work out.
   Be good.
   I’m always good.
   Okay, then behave.
   I laugh and throw the phone on the bed, and then get my workout clothes out of the bag. I grab my headphones and make my way to the gym.
   I have texts from Allison, my sister, and Tom, who is married to my aunt Meghan and is an ex-NHLer, wishing me luck. But the one that makes me laugh out loud is from my Aunt Meghan, telling me that my dick won’t fall off if I don’t use it. I’m about to answer her when the elevator beeps, signaling I have arrived at the gym floor.
   I walk to the gym and scan my card so I can get in. Usually, these hotel gyms are almost empty, but not this time. A girl is jogging on the treadmill, but I don’t make eye contact with her.
   Grabbing a towel from the basket in the corner, I walk over to the other treadmill, look down at the buttons, and turn it on.
   I start off slow while Drake fills my ears, but that doesn’t last long before I crank it up and push myself hard. I’m in the best shape of my life, thanks to my mom, Cooper, and Tim. They didn’t let me sit down and drown my sorrows in bonbons and booze. They had my ass skating at the crack of dawn. In the gym pushing and pulling. Meaning I’m the biggest I’ve ever been. My shoulders are wider, my waist leaner, my arms bigger.
   I’m sweating up a storm, so I look over to see if the girl is still running on the treadmill, which is my first mistake. Not only is she next to me running as fast as me, but she’s in a sports bra holding up a perfect set of tits, her stomach bare, her abs defined but looking soft, and her little booty shorts not keeping anything back. She isn’t tall. Her blond hair swings in the air while she’s looking at the iPad she has in front of her. Is she watching the Kardashians? Jesus. She must sense me watching her because she looks over, which is when I feel the earth move under my feet. Her eyes are crystal blue, so blue it’s like I’m looking into the ocean. I almost trip over my own two feet, but I recover and smile at her. I turn my head forward and continue running till my legs feel like they’re going to snap in two.
   Getting off the treadmill, I whip my soaking shirt off and throw it over my shoulder before I grab a water bottle and drain it all. I notice she’s slowing her speed. She shuts off the treadmill, dabbing her face with the towel that she has near her. She takes the water bottle, drinking in a good amount.
   I start to walk out of the room when she gets off the treadmill. I stop right before we collide with each other, then put out my hand, giving her the right of way.
   “Thanks,” she says, her voice soft, sweet, pure.
   Following her out, I watch her ass swing in front of me. I don’t even notice she stops and I crash into her, grabbing her shoulders and making sure she doesn’t fall on her face because I was staring at her ass. “I’m sorry, I was…” I’m sure I don’t have to say anything to her because my cock is nestled in her back.
   She shrugs my hands off her shoulders while she presses the elevator button. We stand here not saying anything while we wait. What can you say? Sorry my dick poked your back? Sorry I was watching your sweet ass instead of watching where I was going? Silence is golden right now.
   When the elevator arrives, I wait for her to walk in before entering and see that we are on the same floor. Great. The ride lasts no longer than a second before the door opens and she sprints out, away from the crazy pervert who poked his dick into her back. I head to my door and see she’s in the room right next to mine. I want to say something, anything, but by the time I look up, she’s already in the safety of her own room.  


















When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...


Author Links
















HAPPY RELEASE DAY TO HJ BELLUS & HER GIRLS!
LOVE SICK IS LIVE! 

PURCHASE TODAY FOR ONLY 99CENTS!


LOVE SICK 
by USA Today Best Selling Author HJ Bellus & The Girls

“The Waves of Love Can Make You Sick”

A Reckless Series Spin-off
A Romantic Comedy

Memphis Love knows three things.

Money
Sex
Women

As long as it has a pond for him to dip his pole into, he’s game, and he doesn’t stick to just one pond for his fishing trips either. 

The small, beach town he lives in doesn’t offer much for job opportunities or at least lucrative ones. He relies on his body, the pole, and stage. Oh, and the after hour clients.

Iris, his best after hour customer, takes him on a yearly cruise with her friends. He’s there for one purpose and one purpose only…their boy toy.

Memphis is no fool. A two week, all paid cruise to soak up the sun and sights is a no brainer. Only thing is he didn’t expect a little ray of sunshine on the ship this year. Raylan Moore has the power to rattle everything he once believed.

The doctor is in; he’s willing, able and ready to please. Dr. Love has the cure to your Love Sick (offset in a different font) blues, only this time maybe he’s the one needing the healing.

ADD TO YOUT TBR ON GOODREADS

PURCHASE YOUR COPY! 
ALSO AVAILABLE ON KU!



EXCERPT:
Memphis Love



I lie back in the lounger, finding the perfect snooze zone again while soaking up the rays. Then I hear it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Every single inch of my body is on alert. I sit right back up, pulling down my Ray-Bans on the bridge of my nose.



I smile.



I smile like the victor of Titty Mania 2017. Give me the belt, bitches. Hand it right over. She didn’t fall into my lap this time. Nope, it’s so much sweeter because I spot her before she attacks.



Raylan. She's standing at the bar fifty feet away. Her head is thrown back in laughter. A damn fruity drink is in her hand. Her girls at her side are making her laugh at something. It’s a lingering suspicion, but I know Raylan is never this carefree. The edge of a hot tub is feet away. It’s not her clumsiness I’m studying, but what she’s wearing.



Or should I say what she’s not wearing? That scrappy piece is a poor excuse for a damn top. I know what’s under it or at least half of it. She has one of those fancy, see through skirts tied around her lower half. The knot is settled nicely on her hip.



It would take one nip of my teeth to undo it. Fuck, I wouldn’t have to take her bikini bottoms off to taste her. I bet she’s as sweet as those damn drinks she loves.



“Daddy, antennae.”



I peer over to the voice ready to glare at the bastard interrupting my daydream, hot shower research supplying spank bank material. But it’s a little boy pointing right at me.



“That man has Wi-Fi.”



I squint my eyes trying to put together what the hell is going. He begins racing over to me chanting Wi-Fi.



I peer down to see if the little bandit is planning to nab any of my personal items. Kids these damn days are too smart for their good. It’s then I see the Wi-Fi. Spandex and a raging cock are not the right combination and a clear signal for Wi-Fi according to young children. The size of my engorged dick could guide astronauts home from Jupiter.



What has this clumsy girl done to me? I’m a global threat at this point. Draining my remaining drink, I find the perfect excuse to stride right over to the bar where the group of girls are still chatting it up. Hell, Raylan doesn’t notice all the men checking her out. Her friend, Brenna, has at least double Ds and I’d bet my left nut they’re fake. She’s the type the majority of men magnetize to, but not with Raylan next to her. Josi, I’m pretty sure that was her name, is also a knockout with fake assets and plump injected lips. But it’s none of that which attracts me.



The fuck? I don’t remember any female names, and here I’m studying Raylan and her friends like a first rate stalker. I saddle up to the bar, blocking the group of dickheads drinking in Raylan. My size and width get the job done.



“Another, hun?” the busty bartender asks.



I keep up the smolder showdown giving it to her smooth. “Please, darlin’.”



That does the trick. I hear one of the girls squeal. I know it’s not Raylan but not sure which one it is.



“Raylan.” I hear a loud skin slap, but I don’t look, pretending to eye down the bartender. “It’s him.”



Another voice joins. “It is Raylan. Holy shit, he’s on the cruise.”



Hook, line, and sinker.



“Who?” Raylan asks. Hell, her voice erects the Eiffel Tower in a matter of seconds.



“I’d say nipple gate 2017, but it was more of Tit Show Gate 2017 live and in action.”



There’s an audible gasp. I can feel her gaze soaking up the front view leaning on the bar. My elbow is propped on the smooth wood and my face is in the direction of the back shelf with my legs crossed at the ankles. Most men would flex their muscles right now, putting them in the douche category permanently. I remain calm, playing to ignore the conversation.



I’m betting today they’ve had a few to drink since their voices are not a whisper when they think they are.



“You were right about his wiener. It was not your imagination.”



I stifle laughter at that one.



“Don’t say wiener; we aren’t ten years old anymore.”



“I told you it was huge.”



And there’s my cue. I stand slowly, paying attention to each move of my body, grab my drink from the bar, and make eye contact. They react as suspected, ducking their heads and blushing like fools.




— ABOUT THE AUTHOR —
HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she's a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shot gunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.





Wrangled By Love
The Cowboy Way Series; Book 1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 25, 2017

Cover Design by: MadHat Books

Tate

I could rope a calf before I could walk. Ranching is in my blood, my heart, and fills my soul. My family and I work for everything we have. But money only goes so far - sweat goes farther. My life has taken many paths. It’s made me grow up and deal with things that others only fear. My daughter is my life. No one could ever compare to that love - or so I thought. That was until this little city gal fell into our laps.

She stole my breath. Stole my thoughts, and stole my heart.


Georgie

Georgia was home until I lost everything. I had no one, so I packed up and hit the road. My dog was my only companion and for a time that was all right. Fate had other ideas though. My path brought me to Wyoming. Sprawling grasslands, wildlife and cold. I was surrounded.
My heart warmed when we got a good look at a certain cowboy. He was a brother, son and a father. He chased my blues away. Made me smile and put his heart on the line with mine.

He is my one and only. My forever.



Purchase Links:
Amazon US : AU : CA : UK


Excerpt:

Tate

I turned, hearing a vehicle coming back up the road. I turned fully to see Ma and Pa getting out of the truck.
“What’s wrong?” Ma asked me without missing a step. I guess my emotions were still written on my face. I shook my head and let out a long aggravated sigh.
“Nothing,” I said.
       “Liar,” she teased as she put her hand on my arm.
“What’s got you frowning like that?”
“Son, answer your mother,” Pa said, chuckling. I chuckled at him.
“Your daughter left Abbie upstairs alone. Not sure how long.”
“Where’s Daniel?” Pa asked, a scowl pulling at his brows.
“Out with the boys unloading hay from the flatbed. Cody said he’s been out there a while.”
“I thought he was in the house. I should have checked. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is Abby alright?” Ma asked, concern pinching her brows.
“Yea, Ma. Don’t worry. I went in to check on her. She must have woken Georgie up. I found them in the rocking chair in Abbie’s room, asleep. I left them there. They looked so peaceful.”
As we made our way to the porch there was a loud crash from inside. I heard Abbie start to wail. Tango was up the stairs and scratching at the door before I made it up them. I pulled the door open and ran inside.
“Tango, halt. Good boy. Sit,” I heard Georgie call out in a shaky voice.
“Georgie! What happened?” Ma asked as she came in behind me.
Georgie was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, with Abbie clutched to her. She was soothing her as she looked up at us. I moved closer to them and then saw why she had sat down. There was glass on the floor, along with a vase and a couple of picture frames.
“I’m- I’m sorry. I got dizzy half way down. I thought I was okay. I hit the table and your things fell over. I’m sorry. I’ll replace them. Really I-”
“It’s okay, darlin’. It’s just stuff. Are you and Abbie okay?” I asked as I knelt before her. She nodded and looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“She’s just scared. I am too…” Her last words were muffled but I heard them. I crab walked a step closer and rested my hand on her knee.
“Hey, look at me. It’s okay. Can you stand?” She nodded and I helped her up since both of her arms were wrapped around Abbie. Her cast was rubbing against her own arm. I could see the redness of what was the equivalent to a carpet burn. She must have jerked when she hit the table. She was shaking now. My heart melted a little at that. She was determined to not drop Abbie, which caused her to injure herself.
“Take a seat on the step up from the bottom, let me get the glass up.” Ma said and I nodded, helping Georgie and Abby down onto the higher step.
I sat beside them and leaned into Abbie. She wasn’t crying now but she didn’t reach for me either. I kissed her nose. “Hey, my little boobear.”
“She- she’s yours?” Georgie asked, her brows pinched in confusion. I nodded and reached up to brush the hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“She is. Georgie Larson, meet Abbie Grace Cannon. My ten month old daughter.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. She was crying. I thought I was dreaming. I changed her. She was so warm, we fell asleep… I-I’m sorry. Do you want her back?”
I laughed softly and shook my head. I didn’t mind sharing her with Georgie. I wasn’t sure why that was, but I was content to just watch them both right now. “It’s okay, darlin, really. You did nothing wrong.”
The moment Ma was done with the clean up Tango was up in Georgie’s face, licking away her tears and sniffing Abbie. Her little coos made us smile. Seems she had a new friend too.

© Barb Shuler 2017

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~~ Other Books by the Author ~~

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​Shattered Lives Series
My Own Nightmare ~ Somewhere I Belong ~ Shatter Me Whole
Genre: Dark Suspense/Thriller ~ Romantic Suspense

​Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2v4kRX4  

**All of the above books are available in KU


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~Meet Barb Shuler~

I’m a Carolina Girl by right and a Texan by birth. Best of both worlds. I have the brass sass to keep up with my Texas sized temper. Living and working in both states i’ve learned a lot about hard work, adapting to your surroundings and making the best of the path that you have been led down. My grandma Dollie once told me I would know what I was meant to do when it happened. She was right, as always.
As with most book lovers, I am an avid reader. Reading has always been a hobby - a passion, really and a way to get lost in other people’s lives, their drama and other worlds. It’s a private movie in your imagination that you get to cast and navigate through, at your own pace. Reading helps to expand the perimeters of one's mind. That is what got me into writing. Writing has been something that I have done since I was a kid. If I had paper, I was writing. Nine out of ten times it made no sense but what are words if they are not to be used to your advantage? Words are a part of us all. Why not use them, right?
During the day I work as a ‘desk jockey’ and help the residents of my county navigate themselves around our little, but not too little country town. By night I am either blogging with my best friends, doing PA work for some of my favorite authors or fighting with the voices in my head. They can be stubborn at times. It’s a blessing and I am cherishing every moment. Tomorrow is never guaranteed so I want to make sure I live the day as fully as possible. For what is my creation, can become someone else's treasure.

~ Connect with Barb here ~
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Want to be a Misfit? Oh yes, you do!
My group will get teasers, excerpts and all the behind the scenes things of my writings before anyone else gets them.



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