Heir to the throne of Casmerelda, Princess Ophelia has a knack for disobeying the rules. When she sneaks out in secret to visit her boyfriend, her life takes an unexpected twist. She is murdered by an unknown assailant outside the Blue Moon Tavern and is tasked with being a grim reaper. Is it punishment for her naughty night outings or the Dacre curse?
Wynter Gael has no choice but to reap the soul of Ophelia Dacre and bring her into the world of the undead. Responsible for reaping souls and fixing her mistakes, he must decide if putting her over his knee is worth it or if she should be sent to the royal council for further disciplinary action.
Reaper’s Kiss is a paranormal erotic novel with elements of spankings, anal play, graphic sex, and mild violence.
What was there to like? Larkin, the gentleman she’d been sneaking out to visit had an appointment with death. He felt bad for the guy, especially given the fact the girl he liked was recently murdered, but what could he do?
“You’re not supposed to,” Wynter said and sighed. “Maybe you should stay here for today.”
“The hell I am!” Leila stood up. Her hands in fists. “I’m not going to sit by and idly watch as you reap the man I love! Not a chance in hell!”
Interview with the Author
What inspired you to write about grim reapers?
Many years ago I enjoyed a show titled Dead Like Me which inspired the idea for this novel. It was intended to be a series for young adults and was eventually redone for the adult romance genre. Personally I felt like this story had so much more potential as I was originally writing it in the YA category and struggled to keep in tame. When the publisher that the YA series was with went under, this gave me the opportunity to really make this book shine.
Do you plan to write a sequel for Reaper’s Kiss?
If the book is well received I would definitely consider a sequel or possibly even a spin-off. There are many more areas to explore in the undead world.
I read Dead Girl Walking, is this the same novel?
Yes and no. There are many story elements that are the same but the novel is definitely hotter and sexier. Edon’s character no longer exists, Wynter takes on more of a role, and Ophelia finds herself bent over his knee for a spanking! I can guarantee that never happened in the young adult version!
About the Author
Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Erotica, BDSM, Romantic Erotica, Sci-Fi, Victorian, and Historical Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.
Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook and Twitter.
Terri thought she was marrying a strong, loving man, only to find that beneath that handsome face lies something cold, brutal, and dangerous. After years of abuse, her husband takes things a little too far, and Terri finally summons the courage to take matters into her own hands and make her escape.
But freedom comes at a price.
Forging a new life, Terri moves to a new town and tries to forget her past, but she can’t help looking over her shoulder at every turn. When prison bars can no longer hold her husband, and her past comes knocking, Terri finds that the strength to trust again may be her only salvation. When her attractive new boss steps up to the plate and vows to protect her at all cost, she’s inclined to accept…but can she ever allow herself to trust her instincts again?
Author NoteHer Only Salvation is a bold and enticing storyline with a hint of romance (sensual but not explicit). This book was originally released under J.C. Valentine’s given name and was entitled “Spring Cleaning.”
Luke stomped across the floor and poured himself a glass of water. Gulping it down, he placed the empty cup in the small sink basin and turned to survey the room.
Terri didn’t try to make small talk this time, not after what happened the last time. Instead, she cleaned around the human pillar parked in front of the taps. He would have to move sometime, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
She could feel his eyes on her as she moved about the confined area.
“The police said it was a hit and run.” Luke’s voice was gruff, tortured.
Sensing his need to unburden himself, she put the glass she was cleaning down and met his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He broke eye contact, staring at the shelves of liquor above her head as if deep in thought. Eventually, his gaze shifted back to hers.
“They said since it was on my property, I might be facing a lawsuit.”
Terri rose up straight. “How is that possible? You weren’t the one that ran someone over.” Anger for Luke’s situation had her fisting her hands against her sides.
A shoulder lifted and fell. Luke sighed deeply, as if he were exhausted by the whole ordeal. “It all depends on whether the guy lives or not and how much he can tell the detective about what happened tonight.”
“What do you mean, if he lives? How serious was it?”
Luke smirked humorlessly. “Every hit and run is serious, Terri.”
She raised an eyebrow at that. “Duh. What I meant was…” She shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t know what I meant.” She huffed at her own stupid remark.
Retrieving his cup, Luke poured himself another glass of water. He sipped it slowly, thinking. “The guy was only twenty-one,” he stated, as if that should clarify everything. The look she gave him said it didn’t. “He left my club falling-down drunk, intending to drive home.”
Terri winced. The dram laws said that bartenders, and anyone else who served alcoholic drinks, were supposed to monitor how much was too much for any one customer. If they looked like they weren’t handling it so well, they weren’t allowed to leave unless it was by cab or some other designated driver. It was a good rule that kept a lot of heat off of the Sunset Black.
“Okay, but how can this be held over your head? He never drove away, and they can’t prove the guy who hit him was drunk,” she pointed out “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have some responsibility to make sure my customers make it home safely.” Pushing off the bar, Luke returned his glass to the sink without finishing it. “If he wakes up, he might decide I didn’t hold up my end. If I’m sued, I’ll probably lose this place in legal fees alone.”
“Well what about this driver? Didn’t anyone see who it was? What kind of car they were driving? Anything?” Terri felt desperate for answers. It wasn’t even her business to save, but she felt a kinship with Luke, and that made her concerned with what happened to him in his life.
He had offered her a job when no one else would. She was uneducated and hadn’t worked since the day she married. To top it off, he treated her kindly, something she hadn’t experienced in years, and he was her friend. Those she called a friend she stood behind fully. His fight was now her fight, as far as she was concerned, and anything she could do to keep him from losing his livelihood—his dream—she would do.
“One of the witnesses said they saw a late model blue pickup speeding away. They didn’t get the plates or see who was driving, though. So they probably won’t catch the guy, which leaves just me, unless that boy recovers and gives us something good to go on.” Reaching out, Luke placed a gentle hand against Terri’s cheek. “Hey, you’re all pale. What’s wrong?”
She didn’t know how she could’ve missed it, but her eyes were wide open now. The guy at the club earlier with the broken beer bottle and the driver of the truck in the parking lot responsible for running down one of their patrons…
Shaking now, Terri peered up at Luke hoping he wouldn’t confirm her worst fears. “Who was the victim? The guy they took to the hospital.”
“Terri, I don’t see how—”
“Please,” she pleaded, “I have to know.”
“It was that guy who hassled you tonight. The college kid.”
Terri’s legs crumbled beneath her. Luke’s quick reflexes made sure she didn’t fall. Scooping her into his arms, Luke carried her quickly to his office before anyone noticed what had happened.
Luke place Terri on a very smart-looking sofa in his office. He left her long enough to close the door, then returned, pulling up his desk chair and sitting down to face her.
“Want to tell me what just happened out there?”
Terri shook her head. Words failed her. They were all locked up in her throat. Blood pounded through her veins, making her pulse thunder inside her ears.
Rubbing two fingers across his chin, Luke studied her. “Okay. Do you want to go home, Terri?”
She thought about it. The idea of going back behind that counter, walking around the dark club floors where someone could be watching her, and she’d never know it, terrified her.
“Yes” was all she could say.
“Okay then.” Luke stood and rounded the desk. He slid open a drawer and drew out a set of keys. “I’ll drive you home.”
Terri’s attention snapped back to him. “What about my car?”
Luke held up a hand. “Leave it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon on my way in. Your car will be fine until you get back.”
Terri didn’t argue. She stood up and let Luke lead her from the office, thoughts of Randy racing through her mind. Had he finally been released from jail? Was he free to come after her now? If he was, would he really do it after all this time? But she already knew the answer to that. Of course he would.
The question now was, would he be waiting for her, ready to run her down the moment she stepped across the protective barrier of the club provided her like he did to that boy?
She could only hope that having Luke by her side would be enough to keep her safe.
ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Series. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.
J.C. earned her own happily ever after when she married her high school sweetheart. Living in the Northwest, they have three amazing children and far too many pets and spend much of their free time together enjoying movies or the outdoors. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
When Susie dances with Blood in Simon’s speakeasy, she discovers there’s a new world beyond the things she owns and the things she’s allowed to do. Blood values her thoughts, her feelings and offers his respect for her as a person.
So different from the luxury Simon has offered her. The exciting club nights and the new freedom of dressing and doing as she pleases.
But Susie’s still Simon’s woman, and he won’t allow her to forget it.
Soon, Susie discovers there might be more than two men fighting over her. As Blood and Simon confront each other, Susie sees the spirit world filter into her world and crack the reality she knows. And when she looks through the shards of the illusion she’s been living, Susie realises making a choice between the two will be more difficult than she has ever imagined.
Bookseller in Verona (Italy), Sarah Zama has always lived surrounded by books. Always a fantasy reader and writer, she’s recently found her home in the dieselpunk community. Her first book, Give in to the Feeling, comes out in 2016.
Remembrance of Blue Roses follows a man and a married couple in New York City, whose intricate relationship oscillates among friendship, love, love-triangle, and even obsession. Its romantic ambience is interwoven with classical music, opera, art, family legend, and international affairs, illuminating the lives of international civil servants at the United Nations and the UN peacekeeping mission in Sarajevo, and those with direct experience of the Israel-Palestinian conflict and the Holocaust.
Mark, the narrator and an American, works for the United Nations in New York as a personnel officer; his friend, Hans, German, also works for the UN as an economist; and Yukari, Japanese and Hans’s wife, is a professional violinist. One day Mark encounters Hans and Yukari in a museum. As Hans enjoys opera singing and Mark is into painting, the three foster their friendship through classical music, opera, and art. Mark resists feeling drawn to his friend’s wife. One evening over dinner, they discover that their families were acquainted generations ago. This bonds them together. During the summer, inspired by the beauty of Yukari in her light blue dress at the UN garden, Hans and Mark secretly plant blue roses there for Yukari. The blue roses later blossom sumptuously. The three enjoy their blue roses, the symbol of their friendship and bond.
The story becomes complicated by the involvement of two other women: Mark’s ex-wife, Francine, a Swiss, who is remarried to another of Mark’s friends in the UN, Shem Tov, an Israeli; and Mark’s high school sweetheart, Jane, to whom he was briefly engaged. Francine encourages Mark to be happy with Yukari, while Jane now wants to marry Mark. Yukari becomes pregnant with Hans’s child and happily settles into her role as expectant mother. Mark, Hans, and Yukari celebrate New Year’s Eve at the height of their friendship and happiness. … Then a series of tragedies shatters their joy and alters their future forever.
… Then a series of tragedies shatters their joy and alters their future forever.
Praise for Remembrance of Blue Roses:
“A skillful tale that explores relationship nuances and redemption.” — Kirkus Reviews
“Yorker Keith’s Remembrance of Blue Roses is a slow-burning, passionate literary novel that speaks to the romantic in all of us. … A precisely-written, well-crafted literary work that illuminates the many facets of love, obsession and, ultimately, redemption.” — Chanticleer Book Reviews
“A deftly crafted, multi-layered, compelling read from beginning to end, Remembrance of Blue Roses establishes novelist Yorker Keith as an extraordinarily gifted storyteller.” — Midwest Book Review
“Readers who enjoy a sophisticated and well-written book about the complexity of human relationship will definitely enjoy Remembrance of Blue Roses.” — Readers’ Favorite
I have heard a wise man say that love is a form of friendship, and friendship a form of love; the line between the two is misty. I happen to know that this holds true because I have roamed that misty line. Time has passed since then, but I cherish the memory of the blue roses in grace and perpetuity — our blue roses. It all began with a fortuitous encounter.
* * *
On a fine day in early April 1999, I was sketching in the sculpture court at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I felt hesitant working in such a public space, but this was a homework assignment for the art class I was taking. The object of my sketch was a sculpture of an adorable young woman, a nude, reclining on a moss-covered rock surrounded by an abundance of flowers. The smooth texture of the white marble sensually expressed her lively body, which shone with bright sunlight beneath the glass ceiling of the court.
My drawing materials were simple, just a number 2 pencil, an eraser, and a sheet of heavy white drawing paper. The assignment was to capture the skin of a figure in as much detail as possible. I had almost completed sketching the woman’s body and was working on the rock and flowers. I was not doing badly, I thought, for a small crowd of museum visitors had gathered around me, showing approving faces and nods.
“Ah, this is excellent!” one man exclaimed.
I recognized the voice and turned to see Hans Schmidt, standing amid the crowd wearing a big grin.
“What a surprise!” he continued. “I didn’t know you had such an artistic talent, Mark. How are you?” He came forward and firmly shook my hand.
I greeted him, then pointed to my drawing. “I’ve been working on this for a while. I wasn’t sure how it would come out. But it’s coming along all right, I guess.”
“I don’t know much about drawing, but this looks great.” He gestured enthusiastically to a young woman next to him. “What do you think?”
“It’s pretty.” Her voice sounded like a bell.
“This is Yukari, my wife.” He guided her toward me, his hand lingering at the small of her back.
I swallowed. I knew Hans was married, but this was my first time to meet his wife. Hans’s wife is Japanese? How lovely she is. Hans, you devil, you’re a lucky man!
“Pleased to meet you.” I gently shook her small refined hand. “I’m Mark Sanders. Hans and I are good friends.”
Hans’s wife appeared to be in her late thirties, or late twenties? I could hardly tell, because Japanese women often looked much younger than their age. She was willowy, of medium height, with a fine complexion, dark eyes, straight nose, and shiny dark brown hair that hung to her shoulders. For a Japanese woman, she had a touch of a Western woman’s body, the round breasts and a curvy waist. Despite her conservative dress, she reminded me of the nude I was sketching — though I quickly banished the thought.
She gazed directly into my eyes with keen curiosity. “Do you come here often to sketch? It’s really nice.”
“Well, yes,” I answered, “I visit this museum often. But to sketch? No, this is the first time. You know what? It’s so embarrassing.”
I dabbed some sweat from my forehead. We three burst out laughing.
“Hans, I’m almost done. Can you come back in ten minutes or so?” I said. “Then we could go to the terrace for a cup of coffee.”
“Sounds terrific,” said Hans. “We’ll be walking around the sculpture court. When you’re done, just join us.”
Hans took Yukari’s arm and started moving leisurely toward other sculptures. She smiled at me and went along with him. Hans tried to hold her closely at her waist, but she discretely slipped away. I didn’t understand what it meant. I presumed that as a Japanese woman she was timid to show open affection.
I hastily added finishing touches to the figure, rock, and flowers. Since the figure had been almost completed, the rest went quickly and easily — or so I felt after having seen Hans and Yukari.
* * *
I had known Hans for some time because both he and I worked at the United Nations New York Headquarters as international civil servants. He was German, aged forty-two, tall and slim, with blond hair, high forehead, and grey eyes. He had a Ph.D. in economics from the University of California at Berkeley, and worked as an Economic Affairs Officer in the Department of Economic and Social Affairs of the Secretariat, which was the administrative body of the UN. His job there was to maintain and operate a global econometric modeling system, called EGlobe.
We had originally met in a French language class. Being at the UN, we were required to be proficient in at least two of its six official languages: Arabic, Chinese, English, French, Russian, and Spanish. In my case, I added French to my native English. My French was hardly adequate, though, so I was working my way through the seven-level French program.
In level six I met Hans, who had just started the program from that level. We ate lunch often together in the cafeteria and practiced our French. His grasp of the language was much better than mine. Also, since he used computers heavily for his work, and since I had a good friend, Shem Tov Lancry, an Israeli, in the Information Technology Services Division of the Department of Management, I introduced them, so Hans was able to receive technical advice from Shem Tov.
I packed up my drawing materials, and we three went to the balcony above the Great Hall of the museum, where drinks and desserts were served while musicians played chamber music. We each ordered a glass of red wine.
About the Author
Yorker Keith lives in Manhattan, New York City. He loves literature, theatre, classical music, opera, and art. He holds an MFA in creative writing from The New School. His literary works have been recognized four times in the William Faulkner – William Wisdom Creative Writing Competition as a finalist or a semifinalist.
Today we have Tell Me A Truth by Tamara Lush, the last in the sexy serial novella! Grab your copy today, and check out Tamara’s giveaway!
About Tell Me A Truth:
A billionaire real estate magnate returns from the dead, making his family’s dearest dream come true. There’s only one problem–Caleb Kin remembers his parents, siblings, home and career … but not Emma, woman he married, or the child she claims is his.
Don’t miss the heart-pounding final installment in Emma and Caleb’s journey—get your copy of Tell Me the Truth today!
“Let me have her.” I held my hands in the direction of Colin, who’d been pacing with Charlotte in his arms. She was the only happy person in the room and had entertained herself for the past ten minutes by chewing on her fist.
He deposited her into my arms and resumed pacing. She grabbed at my chunky silver necklace and lunged for my curls. I knew she wanted to play peek-a-boo in my hair because lately that was her favorite entertainment.
“No, babykins. Let’s leave Mommy’s hair alone for tonight.” I swept my curls back with my free hand, and she giggled into my chest. My hair had grown even longer in Caleb’s absence, since I hadn’t had the desire to do anything with it. But my hair didn’t matter, Charlotte’s slobbery little mouth didn’t matter, nothing mattered. We were about to be a family—for the first time.
A surge went through me. I was giddy. Manic, even, at the thought of Caleb’s return.
I blew a fart noise on Charlotte’s cheek and she laughed more.
Bouncing Charlotte on my hip, we turned again to the window, and she reached her chubby hand to the glass, as if trying to touch the night. I’d dressed her in a frothy, hot pink dress with a tulle skirt. She looked unbearably adorable, and it would be impossible for Caleb not to recognize his own child with big blue eyes so identical to his.
Colin’s phone buzzed. “It’s him.” He inhaled sharply, then answered and grinned. “Hey. Yeah, we’re all here. Okay.” He hung up. “Caleb and Dad and Mom are in the lobby.”
Laura gave a little muffled cry and hugged Sarah, who stared hard at me over Laura’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” I mouthed to her, not feeling fine at all. I kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “Daddy’s home,” I whispered, trying not to shake too much. Charlotte seemed unusually heavy.
After a few seconds, a nervous, barking laugh escaped my lips. “How long does it take for the elevator to crawl up here?”
No one responded.
Then, the ding of the elevator bell.
The sliding open of the doors.
And my husband walked in.
About Tamara Lush:
During the day, Tamara Lush writes news as a journalist with The Associated Press. At night, she writes fictional romance tales about complicated, sexy men and the women who love them.
Her first full-length novel, HOT SHADE, was published in September 2015 with Boroughs Publishing Group. INTO THE HEAT is her second full-length novel and it’s also with Boroughs.
TELL ME A STORY is Tamara’s first novella. It’s the first episode of The Story Series, a five-novella serial about a bookstore owner who reads erotica to a billionaire during a literary event in Florida.
When Tamara isn’t reporting, writing or reading, she’s doing yoga, cooking for her Italian husband or chasing her dogs on a beach on Florida’s Gulf Coast. She loves connecting with people on social media.