Excerpt and Reveal: Filthy English by Ilsa Madden-Mills

filthy english excerpt reveal

Chapter 1




Plain and simple, this night sucked.

Sadly, it was my honeymoon.

I sighed heavily and gazed around Masquerade, an intimately lit London nightclub where everyone wore black domino masks, some elaborate and some plain, to hide their identity. A few die-hards even sported dark clothing with long, loose cloaks. Not me though. I’d gone modern with a slinky little number and three-inch heels, putting my height at nearly six feet. Yep, I’m the giant in the blue dress, towering over every girl and some guys at the bar.

My top teeth dug into my bottom lip as I gazed around the smoky club, my eyes bouncing off random faces. Even in a room full of party people, music, and strobe lights, I was lonely.

My groom was missing.

That’s right. Hartford Wilcox, Jr., aka Mr. Nice Guy at Whitman University in North Carolina, had jilted me two weeks before the big wedding day as we had dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Mario’s.

And now here I was—on my honeymoon and getting trashed with my best friend Lulu who’d decided to skip her beach vacation and come with me at the last minute.

She poked me with her finger as we sat in front of the heavy wooden bar of the club. “Hey, Earth to Remi, get that glazed look out of your eyes and order a drink already. I’m thirsty.” She fluffed her pixie-cut pink hair and straightened her black tutu, eyes scoping out the club. “Dang, the men in here are hotter than a billy goat with a blow torch,” she said in her honeyed southern drawl.

I half-heartedly agreed, not really caring, more intent on scanning the bottles behind the bar. “I want tequila,” I murmured. “A whole bottle.”

Her face snapped back to me and her green eyes widened. “Uh-uh. No way. I know what happens when you drink that crap. You either eat a ton of tacos and puke, or you wrap yourself around some cocky bastard with a well-developed tush.”

True. I did love a tight muscular ass.

But I wouldn’t get one tonight.

A short laugh burst out of me, one of those I’m-miserable-but-pretending-to- be-okay-laughs that I’d been doing a lot of lately. For the past two weeks, I’d vacillated between a sobbing mess and an angry woman who became so incensed that “fuck” was the only word that seemed appropriate in any given situation. Going to the post office to mail he dumped me, but thank you anyway cards. Fuck. Going to the wedding venue and not getting the ten thousand dollar deposit back. Fuck. Realizing I was homeless fall semester—which was in two weeks—fuck. Listening to my mother tell me it was my fault. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The bartender delivered my bottle and poured me a shot. I sucked the tequila down while Lulu watched me warily. It tasted like bad decisions and gasoline, but tonight was about forgetting. The sooner the better.

A few minutes later, Lulu went out to dance with a British guy she’d been making eyes at. I sat glumly at the bar, fiddling with my diamond tennis bracelet, rubbing it like rosary beads. I needed to forget Hartford, and according to Lulu, that meant hooking up with someone.

Was she right?

Fate answered in the form of a beautiful man—and by beautiful I mean drop-dead sexy with a backside so delectable and muscular my mouth plopped open.

I snapped my lips shut and adjusted my velvet half-mask—the annoying feathery plumes on the sides kept sticking to my red lipstick—and turned ever so slightly to check him out, not wanting to appear obvious. He slid into the seat next to me, tall and broad with rippling shoulders and a massive frame.

I checked my appearance in a mirror behind the bar, mentally analyzing the odds of a girl like me snagging a hottie like him.

Although no one had ever called me beautiful, I did have two—okay, maybe three—things going for me in the looks department. My shiny, golden-brown hair that hung down in waves to my shoulders, my fluffy “pillow lips” as Lulu described them, and lastly, I had an itsy bitsy space between my two front teeth which were otherwise white and perfect. Lulu claimed the gap lent me an exotic look, like Madonna or Sookie Stackhouse. Whatever. I was a True Blood fan. I went with it.

He shifted on the stool, leaning closer to me. His cologne swirled in the air, the smell of expensive Scotch and musk mingling together to create a heady, slightly dangerous scent. I paused, goosebumps rising on my bare arms. The spicy whiff triggered a distant memory just out of reach.

As slyly as I could, I studied his profile from top to bottom. Like me he wore a black mask, although his was more masculine, not hiding his chiseled, movie star jawline. His lips were carnal and luscious, the bottom more plump than the top with a slight indentation in the middle. As I watched, his tongue swept out and caressed it, his top teeth biting it as if he were deep in thought. He raked a hand through his dark, longish messy hair, held it suspended above his head for a few seconds and then released it, letting it swish back into its tousled yet perfect place.

I tore my eyes away.

Something about him sent loud warning bells ringing in every atom of my body.

Danger, danger. Don’t touch that.

But my gaze would not be denied as I took in the tight black shirt and sculpted chest that was obviously used to the inside of a gym, right down to an arm that looked like it could snap a board in half—or me.

Nice biceps, Mr. Beautiful.

The pièce de résistance was the vivid blue and orange dragonfly tattoo displayed on his left arm. It was larger than my hand and took up most of his bicep. My eyes traced the contours of the design from the papery wings to the multi-faceted eyes. A bold black color outlined the insect, giving it a masculine feel.


True Religion jeans stretched down long legs and ended in a pair of black Converse without socks, giving him a boyish quality that was in direct contrast to the crazy-sexy-bad-boy vibe he had going on.

Him tonight?

Maybe. He was the polar opposite of Hartford who was blond, lean, and tattoo-free.

I nibbled on my fingernail. How do I get him to notice little ol’ me?

Just then a redhead with fluffy Farrah Fawcett hair strode up to his stool, bold as brass, wearing a tight, white mini-skirt that barely covered her booty. She brought with her the smell of sweet, cloying perfume, the kind I always got spritzed with at the mall.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder, casually rubbed her finger down his arm and struck up a conversation. Her fake, black lashes—which she’d somehow managed to get outside the eyeholes of her mask—batted. She puffed out her well-developed chest.

He smiled back at her with a wicked grin, his relaxed body language telling me he was confident when it came to women. She whispered in his ear, boobs right in his face, but whatever he said back wasn’t what she wanted to hear because a few ticks later, she crossed her arms, glared at me, and stalked away.

I blinked. What had I done?

Then he turned and pointed his devastating smile at me.

Shit, he’d made eye contact—as much as you could with a claustrophobic mask on.

But wait…

Was he crazy?

Because if he’d turned down her flirtation, I didn’t have a shot.

I didn’t know how to do the fingers-tip-toeing-up-his-arm-thing and sexy hair flicking. I didn’t know a thing about applying fake eyelashes. I didn’t know how to make my breasts sit up that high. I looked away from him and took another shot, feeling anxious and strangely off-kilter.

Mr. Beautiful ordered a drink from the bartender, his British accent smooth as silk as it washed over me. I froze. I almost knew that voice—deep with soft rounded vowels that made you tingle in your lady parts.

What was it about this guy that had me all jacked up and hot for him?

Hello, tequila, my inner voice said. But it was more than that.

Getting brave, I pivoted on my barstool, and found Mr. Beautiful’s eyes on me once more, searching my face. As if he too recognized the pull between us.

My heart played hopscotch, jumping against my chest. My skin prickled. I shivered.

Did I know him?

It clicked.

Dax Blay?

It was his voice, the same deep quality, the kind of voice that made you want to hop into his bed and ride him like a cowgirl.

My breath hitched, and I swallowed down the emotion that zipped up my spine whenever I thought of him. He was my one mistake, the time I’d tossed inhibitions and carefully laid plans aside and went with my instincts, only to have them tossed back in my face.

But the man next to me wasn’t Dax. Thank God.

Last spring at the campus-wide end of the year fraternity party with Hartford, I’d seen Dax, and he’d had shorter hair, like always, and zero tattoos. Yeah. No way.

Plus, last I heard, he was in Raleigh where his father lived.


Dax was British. He could have family here. Maybe he got a tattoo?

Nah. I mean, what were the odds of us both being at the same club on the same night in a country where neither of us lived?

I tore my eyes off Mr. Beautiful and waved at a bartender for more limes, but somehow my tennis bracelet snagged on the bodice of my dress, leaving my wrist dangling like a wet dishrag in a most inappropriate place.

I wiggled my arm.

Jiggled it.

Even went so far as to jerk, but it wouldn’t separate.

Sweat popped out on my forehead. Holding my breath, I twisted and tugged the bracelet, forcing the delicate material in my bodice to stretch beyond normal limits.

“Well, hell,” I breathed, pausing to assess.

Skin-tight with a plunging neckline, the dress was mostly a stretchy fabric held together by sequined straps and a zipper on the side. Slated as part of my honeymoon wardrobe, it was a Tory Burch and had cost four hundred dollars, the most I’d ever paid for a fun outfit, and no way did I want to damage it. I might have to return it to rent an apartment at Whitman.

Lulu. I needed Lulu. She was a whiz with wardrobe malfunctions.

I spun around on the barstool and used my free hand to wave at her, but she was slinging herself around dancing, having a great time and completely oblivious. I resorted to flapping both hands at her, one high and one low. Several people waved back with baffled expressions, but Lulu didn’t notice. Dammit.

I groaned and slumped down in my seat, ready to scream. Now what? Go to the bathroom and repair it there? Good plan.

But the club tilted when I stood, the strobe lights making me squint as they flashed in my face. I wobbled in my leopard print heels—that Lulu had insisted I wear—and grabbed the stool to keep my balance. `

I sucked in a breath to gather myself, but I couldn’t think straight. The room spun, and I was suddenly queasy, and why did I slam all that tequila, and oh my god, my wrist is currently attached to my tit like a T. rex arm.

I had to get out of here before someone noticed what an idiot I was.

Trying to be stealth like, I reached across the bar to get my beaded clutch, but because it was my left hand and not my right that I used most of the time, I got off balance and stumbled—and my ankle folded in on itself. I yelped as my shoe catapulted off my foot and vaulted off toward the dance floor, while I fell forward, straight into Mr. Beautiful’s lap.


Filthy English (unedited excerpt)

Copyright Ilsa Madden-Mills

filthy english coming soon


The British are HERE! 

Are you ready for Filthy English?

Add to your TBR for a July 11th release here: http://bit.ly/28MpTlk

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A smokin’ hot British player…

A jilted girl…

One night of mistaken identity…


Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.


She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.


She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.


Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.


But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…


One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.


*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*

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ilsa madden bio

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.


She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.


She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.


When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.





You can stalk her on her website as well as get signed books: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com


Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorilsamaddenmills?pnref=lhc


IG: https://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/


Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills



Ilsa Madden-Mills’ other books:



Amazon: http://amzn.to/1RH9CJY

iBooks: http://apple.co/1gl5Yaj

BN: http://bit.ly/1bOyH2g

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1D0BVw5



Amazon: http://amzn.to/1K5NvX8



Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NvRIr5

iBooks: http://apple.co/1mVS3Wo

BN: http://bit.ly/1mT1cDB

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1C9EZt3


Amazon: http://amzn.to/1cvvkkh

iBooks: http://apple.co/1eN7Clh

BN: http://bit.ly/1KK0ljh

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BHcK4R


filthy english teaser 2



Review: Bittersweet by Sarina Bowen

its here

If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the orchard.

The last person Griffin Shipley expects to find stuck in a ditch on his Vermont country road is his ex-hookup. Five years ago they’d shared a couple of steamy nights together. But that was a lifetime ago.

At twenty-seven, Griff is now the accidental patriarch of his family farm. Even his enormous shoulders feel the strain of supporting his mother, three siblings and a dotty grandfather. He doesn’t have time for the sorority girl who’s shown up expecting to buy his harvest at half price.

Vermont was never in Audrey Kidder’s travel plans. Neither was Griff Shipley. But she needs a second chance with the restaurant conglomerate employing her. Okay—a fifth chance. And no self-righteous lumbersexual farmer will stand in her way.

They’re adversaries. They want entirely different things from life. Too bad their sexual chemistry is as hot as Audrey’s top secret enchilada sauce, and then some.




My Review:

Oh, my land. Young farmers are hot. Who knew?

Griff Shipley, a former football player, doesn’t seem the type to be dedicated to cultivating the land. Audrey Kidder had some kicks of the non-football variety with him in college but she never expected to find him operating an orchard. And he never expected to find the party girl acting as a buyer for his produce.

Will she buy his produce? Will he let her? What kind of fruit could a relationship possibly produce? Especially when Griff and Audrey are like apples and oranges.

This is a highly enjoyable read that would be fun to read outside. Say… under an apple tree. Five stars.


You can read the first chapter here: FIRST CHAPTER

Buy Links:

Amazon http://geni.us/bsamz




Release Blitz: Covet by Alison Ryan

  Title: Covet
Series:Second Chance Romance #2
By: Alison Ryan
Publication Date: June 16, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Barrett Evers, globe-trotting scion of the Evers Holdings fortune, has all the trappings of the wealthiest men in the world. The fastest sports cars, the sleekest private jets, and business interests on four continents. He rubs elbows with the world’s most powerful and beautiful. And on top of all that? He just so happens to have the rugged good looks of a model straight out of GQ.

Needless to say, he gets what he wants, when he wants. He has it all. At least, that’s what any outsider would think.

Despite all he has, there’s one thing he can’t buy- Scarlet Bloom.

Five years ago, their passion could heat up an entire city. They were desperately in love until one day Scarlet walked away. No explanation, no goodbye. The great love (not to mention the best sex) of his life, inexplicably walked out on him and never looked back.

Scarlet has her reasons. But she can never tell Barrett the truth. It would cost them both way too much.

But after a chance meeting in Las Vegas leads to a steamy weekend on the shores of the Pacific, Scarlet can’t help but wonder if she could ever be strong enough to let him go again.

Even if both their lives depended on it.

Amazon US – http://amzn.to/28RudgN
Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/fn51EU
Amazon CA – https://goo.gl/XWXuXx
Amazon US – http://amzn.to/1XT9UUl
Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/ghI0Zv
Amazon CA – https://goo.gl/RYykAQ

Alison Ryan is a romance author who lives with her husband and sons in a southern kind of heaven. She loves books about love, watching too much Bravo, and good bourbon. Not always in that order.

In her former life she has been all of the above: a Las Vegas limo driver, an insurance adjuster, an American Idol reject, a repo woman, and a graveyard front desk clerk at a dilapidated motel on the shores of the Redneck Riviera. (Panama City Beach) Her 20’s were a fun, but exhausting time.

She is quite happy to be pretty boring in her 30’s.

For news on her newest releases and giveaways sign up for her newsletter http://eepurl.com/bHVPT5

Social Media Links

Facebook – www.facebook.com/AlisonRyanBooks
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4097352.Alison_Ryan
Twitter – @AlisonRyanBooks
Website – www.alisonryanbooks.com


Blog Tour: Hero by Julia Sykes

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Amazon US  Amazon UK Amazon CA

  iBooks  Nook






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Book 13 in the USA Today Bestselling Impossible Series—Can be read as a standalone.


A man with a broken heart…

The agony of losing the woman I love to another Dominant has left me dead inside. Over the last two years, sex has become my drug of choice to cope with the loss. I know I’m too broken to ever love again, but that won’t stop me from trying to fuck my pain away.


A woman with a painful past…

I’m not interested in intimacy, but I am interested in sex. As a BDSM romance novelist, I need to explore the world of kink for my books. The power exchange is meaningless; nothing more than research. Until I meet him. The powerful Dom won’t relent until he breaks down all my walls, including the ones that protect my ravaged heart.


Bound together by lust and danger…

Chloe Martin is a BDSM romance author by night and an investigative journalist by day. When the latter brings her to the New York unit of the FBI to research the Latin Kings, she never expects her two careers to collide. The agent she’s shadowing—Dexter Scott—is also a Dominant, and he’s interested in helping with her research in the field and in the bedroom.


But Chloe’s story on the Latin Kings puts her in the line of fire, and Dex’s protective—and possessive—instincts kick in. Can he let go of his pain and find his happily ever after? Or will the danger that surrounds them steal his second chance at love?   


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“Your safe word is red,” Dex told me. “Can you remember that?”

“Of course I can.” A hint of my indignation returned. Did he really think I was so dim that I couldn’t remember a simple safe word?

The pressure of the crop beneath my chin increased, tipping my head back farther and forcing me up onto my toes.

“Don’t be so sure. I’m going to take you so high, you’ll forget your own name. But don’t forget that one word.”

I wanted to say that I doubted his arrogant assertion. No Dom had ever sent me into subspace. I might play the role of a sub for my scenes, but I never truly submitted.

But something deep within me whispered that I’d already lost. I’d made the mistake of engaging in a power play with him, and I’d ceded to his will. I’d thought I was fully in control of the scene, but what had seemed like small changes—the blindfold, the gentle caresses of the crop instead of painful strikes, his low, firm commands rather than barked orders—had made me come undone.

“Good girl,” he said again before I could gather my wits enough to formulate a flippant response.

“I didn’t say anything,” I protested weakly. I’d done nothing to earn his praise.

The crop tenderly traced the line of my jaw. I suddenly wished he’d touch me with his fingertips instead. My teeth sank into my lower lip as I bit back a plea for him to put his hands on me.

“You didn’t have to say anything,” he told me in that same smooth, soothing tone. “And you don’t have to fight me. I can tell you’re trying to resist. Submit.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Yes, you can. You just don’t want to. But I’m not giving you a choice. Your only way out of this is your safe word.”

A beat of silence passed. He was giving me the opportunity to escape.

But I said nothing. I sealed my fate.









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Julia Sykes is the USA Today bestselling author of the Impossible Series. She has always kept dark stories tucked away in her mind, so she was thrilled when she discovered that other people actually want to read them. Her books blend romance, suspense, and BDSM.

After spending four years living in England, Julia returned to her Southern homeland. She has recently settled down in South Carolina and spends her time petting her cat-children, reading, and binge watching TV with her husband when not writing. You can usually find Julia in Starbucks with a venti iced latte clutched in her hand.

Julia loves connecting with readers! Please feel free to contact her on facebook, through twitter, or email her directly at juliasykes193@gmail.com. You can find out more about Julia’s current and future projects at julia-sykes.com.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon page







New Release: What Might Have Been by Sherri Hayes

Release Date: June 23, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Book Summary

Trent Daniels only has one regret in life. Nearly fifteen years ago, he let his high school crush, Abby Hoffman, go off to college in New York City without telling her how he felt. Ever since, he’s wondered what would have happened if he’d been bold enough to tell her his feelings.Abigail Hoffman left Ohio behind long ago and with it the family that had taken her in and embraced her as one of their own. She’s missed the Daniels family, but she couldn’t bring herself to face them again—not after what happened. Now her job has brought her back to the place she’s done her best to avoid and right smack into Trent Daniels.




Buy Links

Daniels Brothers Series
Behind Closed Doors (Daniels Brothers #1)
Red Zone (Daniels Brothers #2)
Crossing The Line (Daniels Brothers #3)
What Might Have Been (Daniels Brothers #4) – New Release

Cover Reveal: Politically Incorrect by Jeanne McDonald

Cover Reveal

Politically Incorrect

Genre: Contemporary Political Romance
Cover Design: Jada D’Lee Designs
Expected Release Date: August 16, 2016
Jeanne McDonald is an author, a mother, a wife, a student of knowledge and of life, a coffee addict, a philosophy novice, a pop culture connoisseur, inspired by music, encouraged by words, and a believer in true love. When she’s not spending time with her family, she can be found reading, writing, enjoying a great film, chatting with friends or diligently working toward her bachelor’s degree in literature. A proud Texan, Jeanne currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth area with her family.
Sex. Lies. Greed. Power. Scandal. Politics.
Nothing gets by Elizabeth McNeal. As a forty-five year old divorcee and a nationally renowned political strategist, she can claim to have seen it all. Most of her adult life she’s focused on two important things ─ her daughter and her career. Now, challenged by a new campaign and a new candidate,
Elizabeth is forced to reevaluate the things she most values and make some major decisions that could impact her future

William Baxter is a thirty-four year old Democratic Congressman for the great state of Texas who’s vying for an empty seat in the U.S. Senate. Accustomed to standing out in a crowd, Liam takes pride in being true to himself and the people he serves. He refuses to fall in line with the stereotypical persona of a politician.

Backed by one of the richest men in Texas, Liam is offered the chance to work with D.C.’s most elite political strategist. With the odds already against him because of his party affiliation and age, it’s an offer he can’t refuse.

Apprehensive about their age differences and driven by politics, Elizabeth finds herself keeping score of their sensual game for control. For the woman who thought she’d seen it all, the man in the eccentric ties and a dashing smile teaches her a new game to play. Rules are made to be broken. Lines are meant to be crossed. But in the high stakes sport of politics, where one bad decision can destroy a campaign, can they afford to rewrite the rules to meet their desires or will they choose to remain politically incorrect?


ARayofHope 25684-coversmall The Certainty of Deception by Jeanne McDonald A Hot Mess by Jeanne McDonald IndulgenceCover
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Incredible Sales June 22-27th! Buy Now!

FEA Crime 99Felony Ever After will be on sale for .99¢ from June 22-27th. As part of the celebrations, some of the authors that participated in Felony Ever After are having matching sales.

Debra Anastasia: June 22-24th .99¢
Fire Down Below
Fire in the Hole
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New Release: Review of Going Down by Katherine Stevens

Going Down KS full cover

My Review:

This book is freakin’ hilarious. At points, tears of mirth were streaming. I love situational comedy and this book is right up there with my favourites. I promptly contacted the author and asked her where she’s been all my life.

(I did refrain from saying I’m her biggest fan because when someone says it to me I want to run. Misery ruined that line for all of us, JSYK.)

Our poor, hapless heroine is the nicest girl but it’s like she takes daily direction from a Murphy’s Law calendar. If anything can go wrong, it most certainly will. She’s jinxed. And she meets this swoony dude–an absolute catch–but Murphy’s Law kicks in as usual.

Katherine told me she hangs out with Debra Anastasia and Helena Hunting but she’s the quiet one skulking unnoticed in the corner. All I can say is, if these three were set loose in Congress, big things would happen. Big, scary, funny things. The world order would tip on its ear. They’re three of a kind.

I first encountered Katherine’s work in Felony Ever After. Her bits were fantastic. I’m including one later in this post so you can see what I mean.

This book is the perfect summer read. Five stars.

Goind Down KS Cole Danvers

Going Down KS Grover Cleveland


Video courtesy of Katherine Stevens and Debra Anastasia (creator).


Buy Links:

US: http://amzn.to/22z1uEc

CA: http://ow.ly/1079wr http://ow.ly/1079wr

UK: http://ow.ly/1079zf

AU: http://ow.ly/1079Bm

FR: http://ow.ly/1079Hm

DE: http://ow.ly/1079E1

iBooks: http://ow.ly/1079Xn

Nook: http://ow.ly/1079RC

KOBO: http://ow.ly/107a5s


Katherine Stevens endorsements

About the Author:

When Katherine Stevens isn’t writing, she can usually be found opening juice boxes and looking for lost shoes. Her kids keep her quite busy and always zig-zagging across the line of sanity. She is a lifelong Texan with a terrible sense of direction and even worse memory. She thinks life is entirely too hard if you don’t laugh your way through it.

As a child, she dreamed of being the most sarcastic astronaut in history, but her poor math skills and aversion to dehydrated food kept her out of the space program. Now she writes to pass the time until NASA lowers their standards. Your move, NASA.

Website: http://www.authorkatherinestevens.com/

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1X4iH5l

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/katherine.fluffypants

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKatherineStevens/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/texaskatherine

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorkatherinestevens/

Katherine Stevens is one of the authors of the book Felony Ever After. Here’s a quote from that:

Katherine Stevens FEA quote

Buy link for Felony Ever After (which is on sale right now for $0.99 so grab it!):




Narcissism 101: How I Got My Pen Name

Once upon a time, I stumbled into the world of Twilight Fanfiction. And I was soooo impressed with the medium. I mean, fanfic has always existed, we just didn’t call it that. If you were around in the early 80s, you’ll know about all the Star Trek books that were published with Gene Rodenberry’s permission.

Um, Shakespeare started it. For realz.

There are a ton of great fandom-inspired stories out there, many of which have now been pulled from fanfic sites and published as original fiction. Which has nothing to do with my pen name. As usual, I’m blathering as I wander down a side street, no longer thinking about where I’m supposed to be going.

Hey, this is a first draft, eh? LOL I am unlikely to redraft it, jsyk.

Oh, look! Squirrel!


Isn’t it the cutest thing?

Okay, okay! I’ll focus.

Well. After about a year of reading Twilight FF, I decided to try my hand at it and that required a user account and a pen name. Because NO WAY did I want to use my real name and have the kids from my school showing up at my door. I was right to worry about that. More later.

My name really is Jess. It’s my preferred name. But I had no idea what to call myself at first and I was looking around the room pensively when my gaze fell upon my dog, Molly.

Molly was named for one of my favourite fictional moms, Molly Weasley from the Potter books.

July 2012 005

My kids say I’m like Molly Weasley to a scary degree. I’m a total Momma Bear. Don’t mess with my cubs. But also, as Fred and George said of her temper, “Don’t let her get on a roll! Once she gets started, she won’t stop for hours!”

I have to admit that’s true. It’s hard to provoke me but once I spout off, I don’t quit.

So, I picked the pen name jmolly. I am named after my dog, who is the Best Dog Ever. And I happily posted FF under that moniker for several years, grateful that the Grade 8’s at my school were oblivious to the fact they were discussing my latest lemon out in the hallway where I could hear them. Man, was that squicky. I overheard them whispering about my FF so many times and I wanted to march up and tell them they weren’t old enough to read it, but I knew I’d out myself.

Yeah. When my eldest hit high school, one of the English teachers was running a jmolly fan club. My son was not impressed. See what I mean about the need for pen names?!?

I will remain safely in my bunker, thank you.


Uh, it’s not really mine. I found it on Tumblr. I want it, though. I may build one in my back yard. Pretty, no?

Okay. So eventually I started writing original fiction and I started trying to figure out my pen name. A few people suggested I keep Jess Molly.

When you want a pen name, you google it and see who pops up. That way, you don’t find yourself taking a name somebody else in the public eye uses. I googled Jess Molly. I got six hookers, one porn star and a lawyer. Scratch that. I couldn’t possibly share a name with a lawyer.

I seriously wanted Jess Watson. Watson is a family name that goes back a few generations. Well, do you remember the teenager who sailed around the world a few years back? Jess Watson. Sigh.

Through much fussing, I landed on a person who I’ve always rather admired. I watched too many musicals growing up, I suppose, but oddly enough, they got me interested in history. Molly Brown. The Unsinkable. I could relate to that.

Unsinkable Molly Brown

And as for the real lady, what an interesting person!

Unsinkable MB

I decided I wanted to name myself after the Unsinkable. But I was worried I could be sued for it. I actually consulted a lawyer before taking the name. Obviously, it’s okay to be a Molly Brown. Just not to claim to be THE Molly Brown. Isn’t she pretty?

Funnily enough, I didn’t develop an interest in the Edwardian Era until I started writing a WWI novel this year. And now, I’m totally obsessed with the time period! Weird, eh?

So now you know. Pleased to meet ya. I’m Jess Molly Brown.





Review, Excerpt + Giveaway: The Contract by Melanie Moreland

  Title: The Contract
By: Melanie Moreland
Publication Date: May 24, 2016
Genre: Romance

A tyrant by day, a playboy by night. That is the reputation that precedes Richard VanRyan. He lives life the way he wants, no concern for the opinion of others. He cares for no one, is completely unrepentant, and he has no desire to change his ways.

Katharine Elliott works under Richard as his PA. She despises him and his questionable ethics, but endures all the garbage he sends her way, because she needs the job. Her end goal is far more important than the daily abuse and demands she tolerates from her nasty tyrant of a boss.

Until the day, he asks her for something she never expected. A new role with a personal contract — fiancée instead of PA.

What happens when two people who loathe each other, have to live together and act as though they are madly in love?


That’s what happens.

Can the power of love really change a person?

Will they survive the contract?

What do you do when the one person you hate the most becomes the one person you can’t live without?


This is my favourite of Melanie Moreland’s stories to date, which came as some surprise to me based on the beginning of the story.

There’s no other way to say it. When we meet Richard VanRyan, he’s a dick. I can’t remember encountering a bigger tool in fiction. Everybody I know who’s read this book loves to hate him. And why not? He picks on his powerless employee. Nasty piece of work.

But is he really an a—hole, or is he just protecting his heart in colossally inappropriate ways?

He refuses to look at the feelings of others. He doesn’t exactly thrive on their misery. Rather, he chooses to be miserable himself. It’s his way of maintaining separation and it totally fails to do him (or anybody else) any personal good.

Enter Katy. She’s not your typical heroine. Many readers mistake her for a doormat but Katy is anything but. She’s between a rock and a hard place. She can’t afford to lose her job but she doesn’t kowtow to VanRyan, either. She’s counting the days until she can leave, but something much more interesting happens, and that’s where the author’s command of character is best revealed.

Katy doesn’t have to be nasty to get control over her boss. What a revolutionary idea. Kindness and self-control actually pay off. She doesn’t need to be vindictive, mean-spirited or loud, she just behaves maturely. Holy cow. That doesn’t make her weak, it makes her a grown up.

I may actually fangirl.

The relationship of convenience that turns into love is not a new trope. Neither is redemption. But wow, when it’s done right, it’s a beautiful thing.

I love Katy’s display of quiet strength and Richard’s contrition. I adore Penny. I loved the slow build and watching Richard VanRyan wake up to his responsibilities and his various personal debts (which are emotional, not monetary). Plus, there’s a moment in this book that just wrecked me. I actually contacted the author and told her she made me ugly cry. She was worried that was a bad thing. It’s not. I love it when an author provokes an honest emotional reaction. We don’t see enough of that these days.

Five stars and a request for more stories like this.


Amazon US – http://amzn.to/216mCfV

Amazon UK – https://goo.gl/tpAmV9
Amazon CA – https://goo.gl/4r4KvZ

I tilted my head. “I apologize. I’ll try to do better. Is there anything else you want since we’re putting everything on the table?”

She hesitated, her fingers worrying the ugly shirt she wore.

“Spit it out.”

“You can’t, um, you can’t mess around while we’re doing . . . while we’re together.”

“Mess around?”

She looked everywhere but at me. “You can’t sleep with other women. I won’t be humiliated like that.”

“So what you’re saying is: I can’t fuck anyone?”

Her cheeks were so red I thought her head would explode; however, she straightened her shoulders and looked right at me. “Yes.”

This was too fun for me.

“Yes, I can fuck around?”


“No fucking,” I enunciated the last word.


“You expect me to remain celibate the whole time?” I asked, now incredulous.

“I will be, so I expect you to do the same.”

I snorted. “I doubt it’s anything new for you.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s it. You want to fuck someone? Go fuck yourself, VanRyan.”

Melanie Moreland lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of twenty-six-plus years. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.

Known as the quiet one with the big laugh, Melanie works at a local university and for its football team. Her job, while demanding, is rewarding as she cheers on her team to victory.

While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and also enjoys travelling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.

Melanie delights in a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative storylines to her, often with a large glass of wine keeping her company.

Social Media Links
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/MelanieMoreland
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/Melanie-L-Moreland-512254118848084/
Twitter – https://twitter.com/morelandmelanie