Read My Mind Current Giveaways

Coming Soon...

26 February, 2015

Blog Tour - Book Series Spotlight: Nights in Venice by Tara Crescent





About the Author:

Hello, I’m Tara Cresent. I’ve always fantasized about being a mysterious spy, leading a secret double-life, and now, I find that that’s come true!

Sort of.

By day, I’m a mild-mannered corporate drone in Toronto, but by night, I’m limited only by my imagination; I sit, and I type, and I am a daring writer of BDSM, erotica and romance.

In my spare time, I write of course. I also read, garden, travel, cook, and almost never clean. I just started watching Walking Dead on Netflix (zombie erotica, anyone?), and I’m impatiently awaiting the next episode of Doctor Who. (I would kill for a TARDIS.)

I’ve scribbled bits and pieces all my life, chiefly inspired by what I’m reading, which tends to be mainly science-fiction and fantasy, with a healthy sprinkling of romance and erotica thrown in.

I’m a huge believer in happily-ever-after, but tempered by real life, where happily-ever-after is possible, but takes work. My favorite kind of romance stories are ones that are somewhat believable; I like strong men and women who know what they want out of life, and are driven to get it.

I love reader email; I can be reached at taracrescent@gmail.com.

Happy reading and writing!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Mailing List




Nights in Venice Series
Adult Contemporary Erotica


A Thief in Venice (Nights in Venice #1)
Published: 14 August 2014

Two thieves. One painting. One very dangerous game.

For seven years, Lucia Petrucci has stolen a painting every year to keep the memory of her parents alive. But now she has made a mistake. She has crossed the most dangerous man in Venice. Antonio Moretti, Head of the Thieves Guild.

She has stolen from Antonio, and he wants retribution. Can Lucia pay his price?

Goodreads | Amazon



An Heiress in Venice (Nights in Venice #2)
Published: 16 September 2014

He is Enzo Peron. By day, he is a Chief Inspector of Police in Venice. By night, a Dominant at Casanova, Venice’s most exclusive BDSM club.

She is Alice Blackwell, an American heiress who has fled to Venice. She comes to Club Casanova, hoping to explore the submissive desires she has held in check for many years.

He dominates her. She submits to him.

But Alice has a past, and it is determined to reclaim her.

Goodreads | Amazon



A Starlet in Venice (Nights in Venice #3)
Published: 21 October 2014

Every single man who looks at me wants me. To them, I am merely a sexy body, there to play a leading role in their wet dreams. I am never anything more.

Except Liam. Liam Callahan wants only friendship from me, and I should be delighted. I certainly don’t want anything else from him. I don’t want to be bent over his lap and spanked. I don’t want to be tied up and flogged, and I definitely don’t want him to make love to me.

Do I?

Goodreads | Amazon




Nights in Venice Series Blog Tour Arranged by Mark My Words Book Publicity.


23 February, 2015

Release Day Tour - Book Excerpt: One Night in Close Exposure (Snapshots #2) by Ashley C. Harris





About the Author:

Author and film director Ashley C. Harris resides in Florida. Ashley was first recognized for her edgy writing and unique film work when she wrote and directed the teenage film Lines. Lines was the first feature film in the world captured using only Mac Laptops.

In 2013 Ashley teamed up with Barclay Publicity to release the first title in a new young adult series Shock Me. Ashley then went on to release the first of a new NA series, One Night in Heated Snapshots, that quickly reached Amazon's Best Selling top ten list for sports romances.

When she is not dreaming up new books and working on film sets, she loves to spend time with her friends and family.

Keep a close watch for Ashley's newest young adult books releases!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram



Excerpt from One Night in Close Exposure:

“Beth, you need to go ... ” is what her mom had told her repeatedly all week long the moment there was breaking news that Sterling Johnson, and a whole slew of other Olympic athletes, were flying into Beth’s city for the governor’s honorary ball. Beth knew her mom was right, what other chance would she get to talk to Sterling at this point, especially now that he had actually broken a new world record and joined the U.S.A. Olympic team? The answer was none.

Too many people had begun calling him the minute his Olympic swimming status was announced on a national level, which is why he must have switched numbers, breaking off the possibility of Beth getting ahold of him again. Well, not all possibility, but the truth was she hadn’t ever wanted to face him after their one steamy night that had ended so wrong. But now, just as Sterling’s stellar Olympic news was announced, she had learned her own life stopping drama. In fact, she was pretty sure her life was over as she imagined her dreams and aspirations suddenly crashing to the floor. Oh God, how can this really be happening to me? How can I do this, Lord?

She entered the ballroom with waves of hot nausea assaulting her. Smells of seafood and other appetizers were making her stomach turn in the worst possible way. Of course, her stomach had been turning for two and a half months now; she just hadn’t realized it was morning sickness until it was too late. I’ve been so foolish ...

There was a big yellow taped off area where media was not allowed to pass and yet Beth stood at the very edge of it with her photography media badge, looking. Would she be able to get Sterling’s attention ahead of time before the speeches came? A bodyguard warned her with his stern eyes not to dare take a step further and trip up the rope.

Nervous energy caused her to tremble at the thought of speaking to Sterling now, looking upon his tall height and too ripped abs, ripped in a way that made him this next generation’s newest Michael Phelps and Michael Lochte rolled into one. Young fans posted statuses on the web that Sterling’s face was far more handsome, far more perfect, than any swimmer before him. His photos had been spread across all the papers, capturing his best angles. Beth had to admit, it seemed like they were right.

If only everyone knew the true man and his motives under that swim cap.


a Rafflecopter giveaway



One Night in Close Exposure (Snapshots #2)
New Adult Contemporary Romance
Published: 23 February 2015

Beth, in another life, was a top student and had nothing but visions of a successful career in her head. That was until one night with Sterling Johnson, the sexy and deceitful swim champion next door, who changed her entire future. Now, because of that night from her past, Beth’s path as a photographer is forever changed. Gone is the young women she used to be as she struggles to keep a secret hidden.

Sterling Johnson, on the other hand, has quickly become America’s favorite Olympic athlete. Constantly followed and stalked by the press and the father he has turned his back on, Sterling craves someone who isn’t interested in his celebrity.

When a publicity stunt takes him back to a wild college campus and Beth, who turns out to be the media photographer assigned to his story, the flame he thought was dead rekindles. Will Beth prove to be the only girl not interested in his celebrity status? Or are her own twisted secrets and lies about to bring both their worlds down?

Goodreads | Barnes and Noble | Amazon


Check out the first book in the Snapshots Series, One Night In Heated Snapshots, on Goodreads HERE.




One Night in Close Exposure Release Blog Tour Arranged By Barclay Publicity.


21 February, 2015

Chapter Reveal: Scorch (Delirious #3) by Clarissa Wild (@ClarissaWild)





About the Author:

Clarissa Wild is the USA Today Bestselling author of FIERCE, a college romance series, but she's best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, the Doing It Series and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

Blog | Facebook | Facebook Fan Club | Twitter | Pinterest



WARNING: This book contains very disturbing situations, strong language, drugs and alcohol, dubious consent, and graphic violence. Discretion is advised for readers under 18 years of age.



Prologue
Accompanying song: "I'm Dying" by VAST
Ashley
June 20th, 2013.
Flames engulf me. They lick my skin, fill me to the brink with fear. I’m trapped with no way out. My eyes can only see darkness as black as my body will become if I stay here a second longer. My vision is clouded by smoke, the rooms and hallways turned into a ghostly scene. Screams come from all directions, whines and loud bangs following suit. I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here. I have to escape this sea of flames. A torrent of fire scorches the walls, blazing through the doors. I jump over fallen rubble and molten wood, running through any visible gaps I can find. It’s here, it has to be here. The door to freedom … it’s supposed to be here. Fire follows me everywhere, like a trail set to destroy me, but I won’t let it burn me. I chose this path. I was the one who set this chain of events in motion, and now I must find a way out of this hellhole before it swallows me whole. It’s either this fire or this facility that will be my undoing, and I’d rather be turned into a crisp than spend one more second in this place. Everything I did was for my own freedom, and I won’t let anything ruin it, not even a fucking burning building. Right now, I don’t care about anyone else but me. I did it all for me. That’s right, I chose to only follow my own instincts so I could benefit from it. I’m a selfish motherfucker, but I don’t regret a thing. For once I deserve a little peace. Forever do I deserve justice. No one more than me deserves to get out of this place. But this fire is catching up with me quickly, and I don’t know if I can outrun it. My lungs burn as I suck in the last viable breath, trying to stop coughing. The smoke is killing me, but I won’t give up. I won’t stop running, won’t stop fighting, won’t stop screaming until I gave it my all and then some. I won’t go down without reason. I won’t. I fucking won’t! Adrenaline fuels my body as I rush past falling debris, crisscrossing through the hallway until a door comes into sight. Hope zings through my veins, giving me a rush as I make a sprint toward freedom. I jump over fire and lunge at the door, pulling it open as I go. There’s another door just up ahead. The exit sign is the only light that shines down upon me as I close the door behind me and try to open it. The door is locked. I jerk it a couple of times, but it won’t budge. Panic rolls through me, making all the hairs on my body stand up, as I jerk the door again and again. “C’mon,” I say. “C’mon you worthless piece of shit!” I punch the door, but it’s no use. Nothing I do works. I cry out as I pull on the door as hard as I can and ram my feet into the wood in an effort to break free. Fire has consumed the hallway behind me, and I can smell the smoke rising up from the hole underneath the door. It won’t be long until it enters this room and when it does I have to be out. “Why won’t you fucking open?” I scream at the door. If this damned door would open, I would be out of here by now, but it seems to be made of pure cement or something. Nothing I do works. I can feel the heat of the fire penetrating the walls, creeping in from underneath the door behind me. As I look over my shoulder the small gap is lit like the sun. Oh God, it’s so close, I can almost feel it. There’s no escape now. I can’t turn around and find a different exit. I’m trapped and the fire has come for me. And this fucking door won’t open, no matter what I do. Salty tears enter my mouth as I yell and kick the door in a futile move to free myself. Nothing I do works. Nothing. After a while, I sink to the hard floor, burying my face in my hands. I’m done for. This is it, this is the end. I was the only one who could save me, who could get me out of here. This was my last chance and I blew it. What ifs float through my head. What if I hadn’t listened to him? What if I didn’t let him use me for his own pleasure? What would have happened if I didn’t let him into my heart? Would I have made the same choices? No, but I doubt I would’ve come as far as I have now. Which terrifies me even more. All the choices I made or could have made would’ve led to only two outcomes. I would either remain here or in another facility as their sex puppet or I’d flee and probably die. I guess I got what I wanted after all. In the end, I realize it’s what I asked for. I should’ve listened when he said there was no escaping this place … and him. The only way out is death itself. I should accept my fate with the last shred of dignity I have left, but I can’t fight this dread creeping into my soul. After all that planning, all that work, all that lying, cheating, stealing, and betraying, I ended up alone and trapped in a room as small as a fucking closet. I exchanged my body for a little bit of hope, and what I got was a miserable end to my suffering. What a horrible way to die.

Chapter 1
Accompanying song: "Better With You" by Of Verona
Ashley
February 12th, 2013.
Gray. Everything is gray. Not black. Not white. Not clear or unclear. Not good or bad. Just gray. I’m gray. I’m not angry or sad. Not happy or depressed. I’m in the middle where there are no decisions and no emotions. Nothing. I’m nothing. Feeling nothing, worth nothing, doing nothing, staring into nothingness. And I don’t care. Not even a little bit. My legs are cramped, but the pain soothes me. I wobble up and down … up and down … forward and backwards. My nails dig into my skin as I hold my knees close, staring at the wall in front of me. I watch the cracks, feeling like they’re changing in shape. I know each and every one of them from the head, but somehow this one particular crack seems unfamiliar, and it makes me curious. Tempted, I lean forward and place my index finger on the wall. The nakedness of the structure creates goose bumps on my skin as I touch something for the first time in hours. I love the texture, how different it feels with each stroke. Each bump and each indent are like a map to me, I’ve studied them all. I know exactly where every nook and cranny is. Except this one. It’s not familiar to me at all, which holds my attention like nothing else. Was this crack always here? I wonder, and yet that’s not possible, because I know this cell better than the back of my own hand. Maybe I am really losing my mind. As they say, surrounding yourself with crazies makes you fucked up too. The thought makes me smile. It wasn’t always that I believed I was crazy, that I was losing it, but now that I’m in here, I know the true meaning of going nuts. It suits me well. There aren’t a lot of things that I’ve taken with me when I came here. Whoever I was before died the night they kidnapped me. They … the men who used me like I was some kind of whore. Like I was theirs to abuse. As if I wasn’t a person. They said I should be glad I’m still alive … I say they should be scared that I’m still alive. In my corner, I wobble up and down, my eyes skimming the walls and ceiling for any new cracks that I might have overlooked. It’s important to keep track of any changes in my environment; who knows, it might come in handy someday. Like, for escaping. Or, I don’t know, smacking someone over the head with some fallen rubble. You never know. I say I don’t feel anything, but maybe that’s a lie. A lie I tell myself so I can keep living and stay sane while I reside in pure insanity. There is only so much a human can accept and live with. I’m not going to claim I can take it all. I can’t, but at least I know the truth. That has to be worth something. In this prison I seem like a girl who’s lost everything. And I can’t say I don’t agree. I have lost everything that I once deemed mine. My body, my freedom, my mind. But no matter the sacrifices, they will never own my heart or soul. Those are two things that remain untouched, two things I will use to destroy everything. Yes … in this place where I sit like a dog in a corner, bumbling to myself like a lunatic I scheme … I scheme to betray all that is good in order to escape. And then I will have vengeance. I won’t die before they do. And if I do, so help me god, I will pull them down this hellhole with me. *** Five hours later ... “Hey!” A loud banging noise pulls me from my wobbling trance. “Are you even fucking listening?” I glance over my shoulder, snarling at the guard who rams his baton on the glass. I give him a squinty growl and then return to my sulking. No use wasting energy on dimwits who can’t or won’t help me. Nobody in here will help me, which is exactly the reason why I should focus on my own plans. And my plans are to survive … and then kill. Every bang is another reminder of the noise inside my head, the screams, the pain that I bury. Their faces haunt me, and I lick the memory of their viciousness like a tiger licking its wounds. It feeds me, the rage … it keeps me alive, so that one day I can do the same to them. “Whore …” My nose twitches. Don’t react, Ashley. Don’t show them any emotion. Don’t give into their taunts. It’s what they want, what they need, and I won’t give it to them. If this is my final sliver of power, I’ll fight to keep it. “Hey, see this?” he says. “Fuck you. Suck my dick.” He stomps the glass. “Don’t you fucking ignore me, you piece of shit.” I swear, this is how they talk to patients in every normal psychiatric hospital. It’s normal. I roll my eyes. “Oh, fuck you. You don’t even deserve to live. Sad, worthless girl.” He laughs. “Pathetic …” He stomps the glass a final time before he’s ripped away. I turn around to see if he’s gone, but a hand on the glass draws my attention. The door clicks open. My ears perk up. A shiny, black boot steps in. Nobody’s stepped foot in here. Not since I arrived. Something’s about to change. Big time. I turn around and face the wall. Can’t show any interest. Curiosity is weakness, and weakness gets you killed. I don’t plan on dying just yet. I know how dangerous this place can be. Even when I’m trapped in this pretentious building, I know who runs this place … who decides what happens with me. Those men who used me keep me captive here like a dog. The slightest action I take will be on camera, and then shit’s going to hit the fan. I’d rather pretend to be meek and easy. It makes it easier to stab everyone in the back later. “Leave us.” His voice is stern, authoritative. Confident, but not too cocky. Probably a higher-up, but not in a way that gives him any real power. The door slides open and he steps further in. The sound of his clicking shoes draw my attention, and the way he closes the door again, very softly, gives me the idea he likes to think he’s in control. No one can control me. No one. A metallic sound ensues. Something is placed on the small table in the middle of my cell. And then he directs his attention toward me. “Your name.” I don’t answer. There is no reason nor motivation for me. He steps forward. I smash my lips together as I watch his shadow grow on the wall. The bright light emanating from the door is a little frightening when it lights him up like this, as if he’s a stalker creeping up to his prey. “I said, your name.” His voice has gotten darker, more menacing. I won’t allow myself to get scared. Not in here. He stands behind me and I watch his shadow on the wall, waiting for him to make a move, waiting for him to explode. Except he doesn’t. What he does instead makes me swallow away a lump in my throat. He pets me. With his hand on my head he makes soft strokes through my hair, sliding down toward my neck, and then back up to the top of my head. It’s eerie as well as totally unnerving that this man is touching me like this. Does he want me to resist? Or does he want me to fight? What is he expecting? “You’re not quite the listener, are you?” he says. I frown, but don’t answer him, and keep my eyes on the wall. I won’t give him an ounce of myself. “That’s okay … I have plenty of time.” My lips part, but then I shut them again. Goddammit. I’m almost tempted to ask questions, but it would only give him more insight into who I am. I can’t give them that luxury. “Oh my dear pet …” He chuckles. “You have no idea what you’re in for.” “What?” Shit. I shut my mouth the moment I realize I spoke. Fuck! He laughs again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good for you, as long as you’re good for me.” “What the fuck?” “Don’t try to understand. You can’t,” he says, continuously petting me like I’m a dog. My muscles tense from his fingers suddenly curling into the base of my neck. “I know you know what happened to you. I know you remember everything.” He pinches my flesh. “You know why you’re here.” Yes, I do. I remember vividly what those men did to me, and for that I must be punished. I can’t be controlled, I can’t be made to think I’m insane, and that makes me a liability. That makes them want to put me in here. There is no mercy in this world. So I answer, “To be silenced and locked away forever.” “Exactly.” I sigh, trying not to feel threatened or angry by this admission, but it’s hard to ignore the bubbling rage. “Stand up,” he commands. His voice is unforgiving, to the point of me actually standing up. That’s a mighty feat. It’s not because I’m scared … more because I’m interested in why he has come to tell me news I already knew. “Turn around.” I slowly spin on my feet, my face completely blank as I face the man who came into my space. His longish, dark-brown hair falls beside his eyes like curtains darkening his narrow face. He has a cleft in his chin and strong cheekbones. His pitch-black eyes make me shiver. There is a slight smile on his thin lips. On his jacket is a peculiar pin button, one that I haven’t seen before. It’s one of the doctors, but not one I’ve seen before. They’re not all really doctors; some are, but most are fakes, meant to keep the patients in check. That’s all they do here; put up a show so nobody makes a scene, so everybody behaves. Everybody but me, that is. That’s why they put me in this concrete cage. “You are mine now,” he says. “I am no one’s possession, just a prisoner,” I snarl. He straightens my shirt which hangs slightly askew across my shoulders. I like it better that way. It’s my way to rebel in a place with so little possibilities to fight. “You are a prisoner and I am the one who holds the key to your cage.” I muffle a laugh. “So? That doesn’t make me yours.” “It will. Sooner or later.” He smiles. “You’re my pet now. There’s no reason for either of us to pretend you will ever believe our words or forget what you know.” “I won’t,” I interject. “But I’m not going to be a toy for you either.” He squints. “You don’t have a choice.” “Like you do. They are the ones keeping me here, not you. You don’t have me, they do.” “They gave you to me.” “What?” Gave? Like I’m some sort of gift? The idea makes me want to hurl. “I doubt that.” “They don’t have time to deal with difficult girls.” “Good,” I say, swatting his hand away when he tries to grab a strand of my hair. “I’ll be even more difficult then.” He laughs again. “I enjoy a challenge.” “Is that why they gave me to you? I’m not some lion you can tame.” “Your claws are sharp, though,” he muses. I can’t stop the twitch in my nose. Goddammit, I want to kill this guy. “Like I said, you’re mine now, and I intend to make you … less annoyingly difficult.” “How?” I say. “That’s going to take a lot of effort. Annoying is my middle name.” I snort. “You’ll see how.” The grin on his face makes me want to slap the living shit out of him. For a second, I contemplate on doing just that, but then I remind myself there is a camera in the left corner and someone behind is must be looking, waiting for me to bite. And then they can do even worse things to me. I won’t let it happen. “Complicated cases are handed to me. Impossible ones even. Girls who refuse to bend.” He walks to the table and then turns around to face me again. “I break them.” I study him for a moment. “Who are you?” He cocks his head and points at the chair in front of him. “Sit.” Of course, he won’t answer me. My eyes narrow. “Why?” “I will tell you if you listen to me.” Taking a deep breath, I take the chance and slump toward the table. Sitting down isn’t my style, I prefer throwing my ass into the chair. Just a little defiance keeps me going. Only now do I spot the plate of food on the opposite end of the table. My mouth instantly begins to water. “You can have it … if you behave.” He sits down on the table, in between me and the view of the food. I immediately look up at him, probably with the face of a troll. Right now, I’m too hungry for anyone to stand in between me and my food. I lunge forward to grab it, but he’s so much faster than me, grabbing my wrists and jamming them to the table. “I said, behave.” “Fuck you. I don’t owe you shit.” “You do if you want to live.” Sighing, I sit back, sulking in my chair. Goddammit, I’m fucking hungry. They haven’t fed me properly since I came here. Small amounts of porridge and dry bread don’t get me through the day. They’re so fucking cheap, I sometimes wish they had just killed me instead. “What do you want?” I say. “You.” The way he says it, so sure of himself … so sure that he’ll get what he wants, makes my skin crawl. “Why? Why me?” He glances behind him and points at the camera in the corner. “I’ve been watching you for some time.” “Pervert.” He smiles. “You probably don’t even realize how accurate that is.” Oh my god. He has to be kidding … right? He leans in and I lean back in my chair to get away. “You can’t escape this place, Ashley.” My eyes widen at the sound of my own name. “Yeah, I know what you’re called,” he muses. “Did you think I asked you because I didn’t know? Or because I wanted you to speak?” he growls. “You wanted me to give you what you want.” “Exactly.” He cocks his head again. “You’re beginning to understand.” “Why on earth would I do what you want?” “Oh, I have plenty of reasons, but an important one in particular.” He’s so close now, I can feel his breath on my skin. He whispers, “I can help you be free.” That word makes me choke up. “Why … why would I trust you? You can’t promise me anything.” “You can’t, but you don’t have a choice. Either you listen to me and do what I say, or you stay in here … forever.” Those words make me want to scream, but I don’t. It’s what he wants, I can see it in his eyes. That glint of amusement at his own victory. It’s the ugly truth. “What do you want from me?” I ask. “Why did you come here? Why now, after all those days?” He shifts his position on the metal table which creaks. “You’re separated, so you could calm down and we could observe your reaction to the environment.” “I’m a Guinea pig.” “Not entirely. You were just one of the few who didn’t go into full denial.” “I would die before I would forget what those monsters did to me!” I yell, suddenly overcome by fury. His eyes flare with excitement. “Hmmm …” “Do you even know?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Do you realize what you’re doing?” “I do.” “Then you’re just as bad as they are.” I avert my eyes. He suddenly leans forward, grabs my chin, and forces me to look at him. “I am not like them, and do not for a moment suggest that I am.” He releases me with a slight twitch of his hand. Clearing his throat, he says, “For your own sake it would have been much better if you’d simply forgotten what you’d experienced, but unfortunately for the both of us, that isn’t the case.” He looks me straight in the eyes. “Now, if you wish to live, you will listen and do as I say. You know how they are … if you’re difficult, we have no other choice but to–” “Kill me.” He seems caught off guard by my comment. “Yeah, I know what they’re like. Are you like that too?” I ask, leaning forward with my elbow on the table. “Because that makes you just as evil.” For a moment, his eyes narrow slightly, and his tongue quickly darts out to wet the side of his lip, but it disappears as quickly as it came. He turns his head and gazes at the food. “I think we’re done talking.” He jumps off the table and fetches the food before I have time to react. He doesn’t give it to me, instead, he holds it in his hand and walks to the door. “Where are you going?” “If you’re not going to behave, why do you think you deserve this?” “Because I’m fucking hungry, and I need it. Jesus Christ, I haven’t eaten a proper meal in days!” I shout, scooting the chair back. “Sit. Down.” His voice echoes against the door. I grind my teeth. “Give it to me.” It’s quiet for a second. “Ask nicely.” I sigh out loud. “Goddammit, can I please have it?” He glances over his shoulder. “Is that your nice side?” “As nice as it gets with me.” I fold my arms. He laughs like he’s really amused by that. “We’ll have to work on that then.” He turns around and walks toward the table again. I breathe a sigh of relief as he puts the plate back on the table and slides it to my side. “This is because I’m nice now.” He smiles. “Not because you deserve it.” I growl, but don’t respond, because I don’t want him to take this away from me. I immediately grab a fork and start gobbling up the mashed potatoes like a starving homeless girl. “You see? Do as I say, and you get what you want. Simple,” he muses. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll bring you better food. I’ll make sure you’re left alone.” “In exchange for what?” I ask, spooning up some applesauce. He grins. “You’ll know soon enough.” The way he says it sends chills up my spine. So eerily dark, laced with poison. “What’s your name?” I ask. “Why do you want to know?” “Because I’d like to know who keeps me captive here. Who comes into my room every single time and makes me remember that I’m a prisoner to the sickest men on earth.” He raises an eyebrow only slightly. “You want to know who takes care of you in here …” he muses, to prove his own point. Pathetic. “No,” I say, holding my fork tight. “I want to know so I remember the name of the man I’m going to kill first.” His eyes widen, and his lips part, but no sound comes out. Ha, gotya, motherfucker. It’s not a lie. I am going to kill him someday. I don’t care how, but I will, with whatever means necessary. And then I’ll murder the rest of them. After a stare down of almost a minute, I continue eating. “My name is Sam Bailey,” he says. “And when I’m done with you, I’ll be the only guy on this planet you won’t be able to kill.”




a Rafflecopter giveaway



Scorch (Delirious #3)
Adult Contemporary Dark Erotica
Expected Publication: 3 March 2015

Sweet revenge keeps her alive … and drives her to kill.

I am the forgotten one, the girl who was left for dead.

In this mental hospital I call prison I plot my revenge.

I remember everything.

Their faces. Their touch. Even their smell.

What they did to me was beyond cruel. I’m going to return the favor.

In here I survive by using someone just as they used me. One of them wants to claim me as his own. A man without mercy, without a conscience, craving the wickedness inside me. But I won’t be a puppet for his desires. I will play his strings like a puppeteer and use him to escape.

And when I do … I will kill them all.


This is Ashley's story and the final book in the Delirious Series. This is a full-length novel. These books should be read in order.

Goodreads | Google Play | | iBooks | Kobo


Check out the rest of the Delirious Series on Goodreads HERE.





Content Copyright By Lillie (AliseOnLife). Powered by Blogger.

Search Me

Loading...

wibiya widget

Related Posts with Thumbnails
Template Design by SkinCorner