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Friday 28 February 2014

Book Blitz For Crashing Back Down By Kristen Hope Mazzola




Title: Crashing Back Down
Author: Kristen Hope Mazzola
 Release Date: November 4, 2013 




Mags McManus has just become a war widow in her mid-twenties. Her late husband, Randy, left for the Army right after their wedding. Instead of celebrating his homecoming and living in marital bliss with her soulmate, Mags finds herself living in constant agony. Dealing with the guilt of still living without Randy, are Randy's best friends and parents.

Rising from the ashes of this tragedy, Mags starts to learn how to love and trust again, finally being able to find happiness. But sometimes things really are too good to be true and again Mags learns how cruel the world can be as she crashes back down.

**18+ for sexual situations, cursing and adult content**
A portion of all royalties from Crashing Back Down are donated by the author to The Marcie Mazzola Foundation.
















Kristen Hope Mazzola is an up and coming independent author from sunny South Florida. Crashing Back Down is her debut into the literary world. Kristen is currently working on the rest of her Crashing Series, which will include a sequel, Falling Back Together, and a prequel, Walking Away. She even has a few more tricks up her sleeve, with more characters to introduce and more twists to unravel, so keep your eye on this talented young author!

When Kristen is not driving a pen into paper, she enjoys reading all different genres and fishing. “There is just something so magical about water and the calm it brings to my life,” says Kristen. Even though writing is not her only career she is pursuing, Kristen hopes to one day be a full time writer. Having a day job and a busy life, makes finding time for writing difficult, but anything worthwhile in life is difficult. Loving life, writing, and fishing basically make up her world.

Thursday 27 February 2014

Release Day Blitz For Nikki Sex

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Book Title: Fate Author: Nikki Sex Genre: Erotic Romance Release Date:February 26, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions


Synopsis




How far would you go to get something you really wanted?
Emily Malone has had a crush on her brother’s best friend, Paul, all her life.
Unfortunately, he just sees her as his friend's little sister.
Desperate and infatuated, Emily resorts to lies and deception.
She only needs one night with Paul, to finally get over this obsessive crush.
But Fate has other ideas. . .


  Meet the Author

NikkiCocktail


Three time Amazon Bestselling author Nikki Sex writes sexy contemporary romance, often involving a bit of kink. She's also a sucker for Happily Ever After endings, so no matter how dark her stories get, fear not! It always all works out in the end.

  excerpt


  Am I really going to do this? Emily Malone had gone over her plan a thousand times, maybe more. Should I? Shouldn’t I? The answer was always the same because there really wasn’t a choice at this point. She’d done too much, and come too far not to go through with it. I have to. It’s the only way. She looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself. Emily’s normally long, dark brown, wavy hair was recently cut short, straightened and bleached white-blonde. She’d styled it in a wild, uninhibited sort of “just tumbled” look. Not long ago, she wore glasses in an “a la geek” style. Now, colored contact lenses turned her light-blue eyes dark brown. With the addition of silk eyelash extensions, her eyes looked striking. The stranger staring back at her in the mirror struck a pose, further exposing her generous cleavage in that tight red halter. Emily practiced an alluring smile – creating a slutty, eager, “come hither” seductive look. Yes. Perfect! That seemed to be exactly the kind of girl Paul Jarman went for, she mused. He never went out with “nice” girls. He liked experienced, big breasted, naughty girls who put out. He was looking to get laid – not looking for love. There was something about him, too. Every girl seemed to instantly fall in love with Paul, probably because he didn’t commit to anyone. Ever. Well, he won’t want to commit to me either, but who cares? I just want to have sex with him. “The only way to banish temptation is to give into it," the saying went. She sure hoped it was true. Emily intended to finally scratch that long term, never ending itch of hers. There was a fine line between “hopeful persistence” and “stalking.” Clearly she’d gone well over that line. Hell, she’d literally and metaphorically driven past state borders and even left the country when it came to “crossing the line.” Emily frowned, frustrated by the mystery. How do normal people get over their first love? What she felt for Paul was a bone-deep ache that never went away. Being obsessed with someone was like being caught in Chinese handcuffs, or finger traps. The more she struggled and fought the infatuation, the tighter the cuffs held on. She told herself that if she just had one night of mind blowing, intense, no-holds-barred, toe curling sex with the object of her fixation, then maybe, just maybe she’d finally get over him. Maybe then, she could move on with her life. At least, that was the plan. ~~~ Please God, don’t let him recognize me. Emily stood before Paul, facing him. “Hey, hot guy,” she said in a low, sultry purr. “Where can a girl sit if she wants to join you?” She placed her hands on her waist and crooked a leg in a provocative catwalk model pose. Paul gazed up at her, with interest and amusement sparkling in his light hazel eyes. Those eyes of his had always entranced her. Just now, they looked chocolate brown, but in sunlight or a well-lit setting, Paul’s irises were a beautiful bright green near the pupil. His eyebrows rose into an arch as she looked down at him. The corners of his mouth lifted as a slow smile curled his lips. Emily’s breath hitched when a nearly tangible frisson of attraction passed between them. Before she knew his intent, Paul gave a delighted, low-pitched laugh and swept her onto to his lap. One of his arms lay across her thighs, the other around her back, holding tight to one of her hips. “Oh!” For an empty space of time, Emily stopped breathing. Her mind went blank as every brain cell she had seemed to disappear. Evidently, said brain cells had been replaced by rampant female hormones, all exuberantly singing, “Take me! Take me! Take me!” For a moment, Emily totally forgot the part she was supposed to be playing, as electric jolts of joy and pleasure rolled through her, making her skin tingle. All the years of desire she’d bottled up inside, popped open and exploded, spraying like shaken, uncorked champagne. Was it the alcohol that made her whole body flush and her head swim? Or was it just Paul? She felt drunk, intoxicated by the scent, sight, sound and feel of him. I’m in Paul’s arms! I’m in Paul’s arms! It was a heady experience. He smelled so good. Hot, muscular and male. An all-consuming need for him spiked through her in an instant of sharp arousal. It was as if a bolt of lightning struck her, right between her legs, smack into her womb. Her body heated and pulsed; her breasts ached and her nipples hardened, their taut peaks brushing against her lacy bra. Until that moment she’d been unaware of any friction between the lace and her sensitive nipples. Emily adored Paul when she was a child. He’d always been kind to her, he listened to her, and made her laugh. Then when she became older, and her body became flooded with hormones, she really noticed him. He was tall, and strong and handsome. And he had that sexy smile that somehow made her melt inside. Paul had been the object of her every sexual fantasy – from the first time she ever had a sexual fantasy, for as long as she could remember. Oh man, I want him so bad. “Hey, beautiful,” Paul said, his eyes flaring with unconcealed lust. “What’s your name?” Emily stared at him, frozen into stillness by his intense gaze. The velvet timbre of his voice was deep and so incredibly mellow. It was the same voice that she loved to listen to all of her life – except that now it had a sexy, seductive tone to it. Dazed and aroused, Emily’s lips parted. For a moment she honestly couldn’t recall how to speak. Remembering how to breathe seemed to be problematic, too. There was a long pause while she tried to right her universe that had tilted so dramatically. “Candy,” she replied with a gasp, abruptly remembering the fake name she’d adopted specifically for this occasion. “Of course it is,” Paul murmured with a quick, easy laugh. His eyes sparkled with dry irony. Thank, God! He doesn’t recognize me, Emily thought with relief. But I hardly recognize him, either – not from the way he’s acting toward me. Paul Jarman, the unrequited love of her life was hitting on her! Emily realized that this was “Charismatic, seductive, Paul,” as opposed to “Protective, indulgent, treat-me-like-a-younger-sister, Paul,” that she had grown used to over the years. Charismatic, seductive, Paul was a man that she’d never met before, but holy hell! She sure planned to get to know this Paul better. Intimately, in fact. Emily’s older brother, Reese, was Paul’s best friend. When they were kids, Paul lived on the same street as Emily and her family. Paul had been Emily’s first teenage crush, but she’d never gotten over him. After all those years, throughout everything, Emily’s infatuation for her brother’s best friend had never once wavered. She’d had boyfriends over the years, and wasn’t an innocent, but Paul remained her only love. Now, even after three years without seeing him, the familiar pull of her attraction toward him was still there, stronger than ever. And now I’m in his arms. It was better than any of her countless fantasies. Paul’s eyes narrowed as he studied her, slowly starting at her toenails (which were red from a recent pedicure). His hungry gaze appreciatively slid up her legs, then drank in her torso. Emily’s breath caught, and her nipples tightened when his vision lingered caressingly on her breasts. Finally his eyes stopped and focused on her lips. Was he going to kiss her? Please! Please! Please! Paul’s intense scrutiny made her shiver with a strange combination of apprehension and lust. Signs of Emily’s arousal were obvious to anyone who cared to look. Her skin was flushed, her breathing shallow and rapid, lips parted, eyes wide. She was drunk with arousal. Emily figured that Paul could spot a horny girl a mile away. It was a talent that had served him well, if the rumors about him were true. Just now, he couldn’t miss the throbbing puddle of aching desire sitting on his lap. For what seemed like forever, Emily had concealed her powerful yearning for Paul. How could she hide it now, when the warmth of his body overwhelmed her senses, seeping into her bones, her mind, and soul? But tonight she was Candy, and there was no reason to hide. She wanted him… and she wanted him to know it. Paul stroked her hypersensitive skin with rough fingers, tracing along the contours of her calf, running up past her knee, and boldly moving under her skirt to mid-thigh. Emily’s eyes widened as she became aware of Paul’s interest, in the form of the rigid length of his erection pressed against her hip. His hand moved confidently, calloused and warm. It gripped her thigh with firm possession. Like that thigh belonged to him. Like he owned her. And at that moment, he did. Wow! Buzzed, pliant and entranced by his attention, Emily wanted to melt right into him. “I’m Paul, and this is Jai,” he crooned, nuzzling her neck. “You smell good.” “A pleasure to meet you,” Jai said with a nod. She stared at Paul, devouring him with her eyes. Trying to calm her rapid heartbeat, Emily forced her gaze to Paul’s friend. The man’s ancestry clearly originated from India, but he had a British accent. Maybe he’d been born in the UK? Observing the position of Paul’s hand up her skirt, Jai’s mouth twitched, curving into a knowing grin. His teeth were very white against his dark skin. “Can we buy you a drink, Candy?” “Yes, thank-you,” she murmured. The plan was to limit her replies to breathy, whispered comments, to prevent Paul from recognizing her voice. “A margarita, please.” Paul easily caught the attention of a waitress despite how packed the place was. The woman hurried to his table to take his order, fawning all over him, like a peasant to a king. This was no surprise to Emily. Quarterback and track star with perfect grades, he’d been voted as ‘Most likely to Succeed’ in High School. Paul had always been in command of himself and everyone around him. Where did all that self-assurance come from? Good looks? High IQ? Physical health and fitness? Take your pick. Emily just wished that she had half of his natural, easy confidence. It certainly added to his allure, making him even more attractive. It was as if Paul had a gravity of his own. People seemed to revolve around him like planets, caught up in his powerful magnetic pull. “Hungry?” Paul asked, gesturing to the generous spread of Mexican fare on the table. He spoke with a quiet intensity that made her focus all her attention on him. Emily boldly met his gaze. “Not for food,” she replied in a low voice. She was proud of herself with that answer. Regaining her slutty experienced persona and confirming her interest was important. It was true, anyway. Right now, Emily couldn’t eat a thing – unless it was Paul. He was a feast for her senses. Overwhelmed, she looked away. It was all she could do to sit still. Emily wanted to writhe with nerves. Raw lust roared through her in a steady urgent wave. Her skin, her nerve endings, her entire body was hypersensitive. She longed to kiss him, to lick his hard male abs, and run her hands all over his body. She felt empty, needy and desperate. “Look at me, Candy,” Paul’s voice became forceful and uncompromising. “Eyes on me.” Dazedly, she lifted her head and met his gaze. Candy swallowed, hard. His eyes flared and darkened. Her chest went tight in response. This was Paul, the man she had adored for as long as she could remember. The man she loved, and always would. There was nothing that she wouldn’t do for him… or to him, for that matter! Whatever he wanted. I’m a slave to love, she thought. More like a slave to Paul Jarman. But just then she didn’t care. Emily’s breath hitched when Paul took her hand, and brought it to his lips. Gently he bit the meaty flesh, just under her thumb. Emily was unable to hold back a moan. His sensual lips twitched into an eloquent smile at her response. Paul knew exactly what he was doing. Stroking, caressing, he kissed where he’d caused that sharp bite of sensation. Then he began to play with her fingers, tracing the length of them with his hand and mouth. Sensual and seductive, he teased and toyed with her hand. Just like he was teasing and toying with her. The stubble on his face brushed against her skin and she jerked as a blast of sensation coursed through her like an electric current. God dammit, his every touch was so erotic! A strange roaring began in her ears. She heard a whimper when he pressed his lips to her inner wrist in a soft kiss; it sounded like it came from someone else. Unexpectedly, he licked and then nipped her there. It hurt – but it didn’t. It was so much more than pain. Lightning struck once more, only this time incandescent heat speared in a direct line from her wrist to her feminine core. Holy shit! Liquid warmth pooled low in her belly. Her slick channel clenched and a rush of moisture trickled between her thighs. Emily didn’t think that she had ever been so aroused, and he had barely touched her. Already she was prepared to spread her legs for him right here and right now, on this table, the floor, his lap or wherever he wanted. “Oh, God,” she whispered, mesmerized. Defenseless and exposed, she wanted to avert her face from his knowing eyes, but was unable to look away. Emily had heard of spontaneous combustion, and in the back of her mind she wondered if this is how it happened. The set of Paul’s jaw firmed but his eyes were bright as he examined her in a triumphant, measured gaze. His calloused hand returned to her leg, slowly skimming over her skin, moving higher up her skirt than before. This time, as he gripped her thigh, he stretched two fingers out – so that the tips of them pressed softly against her drenched panties. Candy’s eyes widened and her whole body stilled, absorbing that wonderful erotic touch. Captured and unable to break away, his gaze held hers. There was no escape. Paul moved his magical fingers back and forth, back and forth with a feather light touch along her damp, cloth covered flesh. Her breath began to hitch in little gasps of desire. With a desperate whimper she arched toward him. A low moan escaped her lips as he pressed the cloth of her panties deep into her wet folds. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he observed in a soft, seductive voice. His face remained dispassionate while those clever digits of his continued to tease and probe. “Just my kind of woman. I know what you want,” he murmured with husky confidence. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” Thankfully the waitress broke the spell when she arrived with Emily’s drink. Paul slowly drew his hand out from under her skirt with unhurried, lazy disregard. The man paid not the slightest attention to the sexy waitress, and because he didn’t, somehow neither could she. It was as if there was no one else. They were in this room alone together. With an open stare, he met her gaze. Then he licked the pad of his fingers with slow and thoughtful deliberation. “Very nice,” he said with a playful wink. OhGodohGodohGod! Her cheeks flushed with heat. Emily’s margarita went down quickly. She’d spent months arranging this meeting. Her current persona, Candy, had a full imaginary background, including siblings, a job, a home and even her own email address. Emily had carefully compartmentalized the two personalities. It was the only way she could pull this off. Yet already, she was off balance, confused and lost. Her senses whirled, her breasts grew heavy and between her legs her swollen flesh throbbed. Who was she? Was she still playing a role? Candy and Emily seemed like the same person right now, both burning from a raging tide of desire. Get it together, Emily. Remember the plan. You can do this, and Paul will never know. Paul, Jai and Emily chatted for a while, flirting and doing the “getting to know you dance” that proceeded a night of hot sex. Emily was no virgin, but she was pretty choosy when it came to getting naked with anyone. She’d always enjoyed the closeness of kissing and cuddling as she suspected most women did. Who didn’t have a natural desire for intimacy? For physical and emotional connection? The problem for Emily had always been that no matter who she slept with, or even when pleasuring herself – if she climaxed it was because she imagined being with Paul. “Do you want me, Candy?” Paul whispered into her ear, his hot breath moving over her skin, causing a delicious tingling sensation along the nape of her neck. “Because I want you. Right now.” Staring at her hands in her lap, Emily nervously swallowed. She couldn’t speak. Instead she nodded, almost shyly. She was out of character, but somehow coming across slutty in answer to such a blindingly obvious question just couldn’t be done. Did she want him? Hell, yes! More than she’d ever wanted anything. Emily opened her mouth, but found that she was still unable to answer. How could she reply to such a question when she’d ached for him forever, body, heart and soul? Paul cupped her chin and tipped up her face, gazing at her in a determined expression. Eyes darkening, they captured hers. Emily wanted to look away from such burning intensity, but she couldn’t. A kick of fear and arousal slammed into her as his power and dominance overwhelmed her senses. She felt exposed and vulnerable to his intense, scrutiny. Could he see right through her? “Tell me, Candy,” Paul demanded in a deceptively quiet voice. “I need to hear the words. Tell me what you want.” “I want you.” Her whispered reply was soft and unsteady. “Good girl,” he murmured with a slight smile, as he released her from his penetrating gaze. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.” He laughed then, a light, joyous sound. “Candy. I can’t even imagine anything sweeter than what I have right here in my lap. Can you, Jai?” Paul said, glancing up at his friend. “Jai and I have just come off a boat. Neither of us have enjoyed the company of a woman for a while.” Emily knew that already; she’d been waiting for him. Paul had signed on as crew for a number of small boats, travelling to incredible places, working odd jobs, and doing so many interesting things. She was jealous because he was footloose, and had no responsibilities. But why was he including Jai in his “company of a woman,” comment? Paul’s breath whispered, once more, seductive and warm over her ear. His arms tightened around her. One big palm lightly grazing the outer edge of her breast in lazy, sensual strokes. Emily shut her eyes, overwhelmed by the incredible sensation of it. “Jai and I could make you climax all night long. Are you up for a threesome?” What? Emily’s mind blanked while she processed what Paul said. It took a fraction of a second before she understood, but then she stiffened and her eyes flew to Jai’s face. She couldn’t have been more stunned if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her. A threesome? Really? God no! Emily was sexually experienced, but not with that kind of experience. For the love of God, how would that work? Her, Paul and Jai, all having sex together? At the same time? Paul wanted that? Yikes! What else did he want? Jai clearly registered her immediate expression of shock and dismay because he chuckled and said in his formal British accent, “I believe that the young lady in question is only interested in you, Paul.” “Candy,” Paul said. She immediately met his gaze, complying instantly and instinctively to his unspoken command. “Jai and I are good together. We know exactly how to please a woman. You have no idea what you’d be missing out on. If you haven’t had a threesome, now is the time to try it.” He stared at her with open lust. Emily swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Maybe next time,” she paused and added, “or later tonight?” No way, she thought, but they didn’t need to know that. “What I really want is you.” She gave an intentionally light shrug and forced a laugh. “There’s a long night ahead of us. Who knows how it will end?” “Not as experienced as you look, are you, little Candy?” Paul said with a knowing smile. “Never mind.” He grasped her waist and effortlessly set her on her feet. Then he stood up. The bulge in his jeans was impressive. “Do you have a room, or shall I get one of my own?” Candy grinned. “I have a room.” The emotion behind her joyous smile wasn’t forced or fake. Candy and Emily were the same person now. Both desperate, greedy and more than ready. It was liberating not to have to hide her desire, to show Paul how she felt about him – even if he didn’t know that she was Emily. Shifting restlessly, Emily swallowed. Orgasms didn’t usually come easy for her, not without serious foreplay. But just now she wondered if she’d peak screaming, the moment Paul touched her. She was so primed and hot for him. Paul met his friend’s gaze. “Don’t worry about me,” Jai said, surveying the mass of young women in the Cantina. “I won’t be lonely. Send me a text. I’ll come to you, if I’m not otherwise engaged.” Jai’s accent was sexy. The white flash of his grin was boyishly charming. The combination was devastating. Emily knew that the man would hook-up with ease. Paul pulled her body possessively against his, stroked her hair and trailed his hand down to her lower back. His touch was electrifying. Emily took in a deep steadying breath, trying to keep it together until they were alone. Picking up his duffel, he said, “Ready?” There was no mistaking the gleam in his eyes. He fully intended to bury himself deep inside her. Soon. Raw need clawed at her. She shivered with the just thought of it. “Yes, I’m ready,” Emily said. Another understatement. She’d been waiting her whole life for this. Now, it was all coming together. Sex. Scratching her never-ending itch. Getting fucked by Paul Jarman – hopefully all night long. Her strategy was moving along perfectly, exactly as she planned. What could possibly go wrong?

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Shattered Worlds - Six Authors - Six Novels - Dystopian Fiction

Limited Time only!
Special sale price of only $0.99! Together these books have over 650 five star reviews!

Read these bestselling tales of survival against the odds, dark worlds, dystopian regimes and heroic rebels.

Shattered Worlds features six full-length novels from bestselling authors. Immerse yourself in post-apocalyptic civilizations and bleak near-futures where hope still lives.









Shattered Worlds by Boxed Set 
Publication date: February 26th 2014
Genres: Dystopia, Young Adult

Synopsis:
Read these bestselling tales of survival against the odds, dark worlds, dystopian regimes and heroic rebels.

Shattered Worlds features six full-length novels from bestselling authors. Immerse yourself in post-apocalyptic civilizations and bleak near-futures where hope still lives.

Featured authors and books are:

Elle Casey: Apocalypsis
Shalini Boland: Outside
Zoe Cannon: The Torturer’s Daughter
Scott Cramer: Night of the Purple Moon
Sarah Dalton: The Blemished
Katie French: The Breeders


Purchase:




Books: 


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Elle Casey – Apocalypsis Book 1: Kahayatle

My name's Bryn Mathis. I'm seventeen years old, and I live in a neighborhood outside of Orlando, Florida. I live alone because my dad died almost a year ago, along with all the other adults in the world. I'm almost out of food and the gangs of kids that roam around my town are getting more vicious by the day.

It's time for me to leave and find another place to live ... a place where I can find food and shelter ... a place where they won't be able to find me.

Alone, it might have been possible; but now I've got company. I'm worried that I don't have what it takes to get from here to my final destination.

And I have no idea what might be waiting for me when I get there.

**May not be suitable for younger, middle grade readers.**


Shalini Boland – Outside

A post-apocalyptic romance thriller.

The world of the future is divided by Perimeters: high-security gated communities where life goes on as normal. If you’re inside you’re lucky, if you’re outside life expectancy takes a nose dive.

Riley is fortunate to have been born on the right side of the fence. But her life of privilege comes crashing down when someone breaks through the Perimeter and murders her sister. She forsakes her own safety to go in search of the killer. Luc decides to go with her otherwise she’ll be dead before she’s past the security gate. But what awaits her outside is more unbelievable than she ever expected.

Cut to the present day where Eleanor's world is falling apart. This time next year, civilisation won't be quite so civilised . . .

*Suitable for adults and teens aged 13+*


Zoe Cannon – The Torturer’s Daughter

When her best friend Heather calls in the middle of the night, Becca Dalcourt assumes it's the usual drama. Wrong. Heather's parents have been arrested as dissidents - and Becca's mother, the dystopian regime's most infamous torturer, has already executed them for their crimes against the state.

To stop Heather from getting herself killed trying to prove her parents' innocence, Becca hunts for proof of their guilt. She doesn't expect to find evidence that leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about the dissidents... and about her mother.

When she risks her life to save a dissident, she learns her mother isn't the only one with secrets - and the plot she uncovers will threaten the lives of the people she loves most. For Becca, it's no longer just a choice between risking execution and ignoring the regime's crimes; she has to decide whose life to save and whose to sacrifice.

It's easy to be a hero when you can save the world, but what about when all you can do is choose how you live in it? An Amazon dystopian bestseller, The Torturer's Daughter is a story about ordinary life amidst the realities of living under an oppressive regime... and the extraordinary courage it takes to do what's right in a world gone wrong.


Scott Cramer – Night of the Purple Moon

Abby, 13, is looking forward to watching the moon turn purple, unaware that deadly bacteria from a passing comet will soon kill off older teens and adults. She must help her brother and baby sister survive in this new world, but all the while she has a ticking time bomb inside of her--adolescence.

*Parental discretion advised for readers 13 and under*


Sarah Dalton – The Blemished

A beautiful world comes at a price...

In a world filled with stunning clones Mina Hart is Blemished. Her genes are worthless and that takes away her rights: her right to an Education, her right to a normal life and her right to have a child.

Mina keeps a dangerous secret which she never thought she could share until she meets Angela on her first day at St Jude's School. But their friendship is soon complicated by Angela’s adoptive brother Daniel. Mina finds herself drawn to his mysterious powers and impulsive nature. Then there is the gorgeous clone Sebastian who Mina is forbidden from even speaking to…

The Blemished is a frightening take on a fractured future where the Genetic Enhancement Ministry have taken control of Britain. It will take you on a ride filled with adventure, romance and rebellion.

Book one in the popular YA dystopia series 'Blemished'.


Katie French – The Breeders

“When the Breeders come for ya, there ain't no escape. They strap ya to a bed and all ya hear is the thud of your heart and the cries of your friends as they wheel ya down to hell. Then the doctors come. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray you can forget. But ya never do.”

Sixteen-year-old Riley Meemick is one of the world's last free girls. When Riley was born, her mother escaped the Breeders, the group of doctors using cruel experiments to bolster the dwindling human race. Her parents do everything possible to keep her from their clutches-- moving from one desolate farm after another to escape the Breeders' long reach. The Breeders control everything- the local war lords, the remaining factories, the fuel. They have unchecked power in this lawless society. And they're hunting Riley.

When the local Sheriff abducts the adult members of her family and hands her mother over to the Breeders, Riley and her eight-year-old brother, Ethan, hiding in a shelter, are left to starve. Then Clay arrives, the handsome gunslinger who seems determined to help to make up for past sins. The problem is Clay thinks Riley is a bender-- a genderless mutation, neither male nor female. As Riley's affection for Clay grows she wonders can she trust Clay with her secret and risk her freedom?

The three embark on a journey across the scarred remains of New Mexico-- escaping the Riders who use human sacrifice to appease their Good Mother, various men scrambling for luck, and a deranged lone survivor of a plague. When Riley is forced into the Breeder's hospital, she learns the horrible fate of her mother—a fate she'll share unless she can find a way out.

About the Authors:


Elle Casey

Elle Casey is a full-time writer of New Adult and Young Adult titles in several genres, including romance, urban fantasy, sci-fi dystopian, and action-adventure. She's an American girl who's been living in southern France with her husband and three children since 2010. She loves chatting with her readers, so feel free to drop her a line.

You can find her on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ellecaseytheauthor or on her website: www.ElleCasey.com.


Shalini Boland

Shalini lives in Dorset, England with her husband and two noisy boys. Before children, she was signed to Universal Music as a singer songwriter. Now, writing novels has hijacked her life and she is usually to be found with a laptop welded to her fingers and the house in a permanent state of neglect. Find Shalini at: http://www.shaliniboland.co.uk


Zoe Cannon

Zoe Cannon writes about the things that fascinate her: outsiders, societies no sane person would want to live in, questions with no easy answers, and the inner workings of the mind. If she couldn't be a writer, she would probably be a psychologist, a penniless philosopher, or a hermit in a cave somewhere. While she'll read anything that isn't nailed down, she considers herself a YA reader and writer at heart. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and a giant teddy bear of a dog, and spends entirely too much time on the internet. Find Zoe at: http://www.zoecannon.com

Scott Cramer

Scott Cramer has written feature articles for national magazines, covered school committee meetings for a local newspaper, published haiku and poetry, optioned a screenplay, and worked in high-tech marketing communications. His pursuit of a good story has put him behind the stick of an F-18, flying a Navy Blue Angels' fighter jet, and he has trekked through the Peruvian mountains in search of an ancient Quechua festival featuring a condor. Scott and his wife have two daughters and reside outside Lowell, Massachusetts (birthplace of Jack Kerouac) in an empty nest/zoo/suburban farm/art studio with too many surfboards in the garage. Find Scott at: http://www.facebook.com/authorscottcramer


Sarah Dalton

Sarah grew up in the middle of nowhere in the countryside of Derbyshire and as a result has an over-active imagination. She has been an avid reader for most of her life, taking inspiration from the stories she read as a child, and the novels she devoured as an adult.

She is the author of the popular YA dystopia series 'Blemished' and the gothic novella 'My Daylight Monsters'. She is currently working on a YA Fantasy series titled 'White Hart'. Find Sarah at: http://sarahdaltonbooks.com/


Katie French

Katie French imagined herself an author when her poem caught the eye of her second grade teacher. In middle school she spent her free time locked in her room, writing her first young adult novel. Though her social life suffered, her love for literature thrived. She studied English at Eastern Michigan University, where she veered from writing and earned an education degree. She spent nine years teaching high school English. Currently she is a school counselor, doing a job that is both one of the hardest things she's ever done and the most rewarding. In her free time she writes, reads great books and takes care of her two beautiful and crazy children. She is a contributor and co-creator of Underground Book Reviews, a website dedicated to erasing the boundaries between traditional and non-traditional publishing. She lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. You can find her at www.katiefrenchbooks.com.

Short Blurb:

Limited Time only!
Special sale price of only $0.99! Together these books have over 650 five star reviews!

Read these bestselling tales of survival against the odds, dark worlds, dystopian regimes and heroic rebels.

Shattered Worlds features six full-length novels from bestselling authors. Immerse yourself in post-apocalyptic civilizations and bleak near-futures where hope still lives.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Elle Casey – Apocalypsis Book 1: Kahayatle

My name's Bryn Mathis. I'm seventeen years old, and I live in a neighborhood outside of Orlando, Florida. I live alone because my dad died almost a year ago, along with all the other adults in the world. I'm almost out of food and the gangs of kids that roam around my town are getting more vicious by the day. It's time for me to leave and find another place to live ... a place where I can find food and shelter ... a place where they won't be able to find me. Alone, it might have been possible; but now I've got company. I'm worried that I don't have what it takes to get from here to my final destination. And I have no idea what might be waiting for me when I get there.

**May not be suitable for younger, middle grade readers.**

Shalini Boland – Outside

A pulse-pounding dystopian tale set in post-apocalyptic Britain: Riley has always wondered what lies beyond the high-security perimeters of her community. But when tragedy forces her into the outside world, she can’t believe what awaits her...

*Suitable for adults and teens aged 13+*

Zoe Cannon – The Torturer’s Daughter

Becca has never questioned what she's learned in Citizenship class: dissidents want to tear the country apart, and people like her mother are the only thing keeping them at bay. Until her mother executes Becca's best friend's parents as dissidents, and Becca learns a secret that changes everything...

Scott Cramer – Night of the Purple Moon

Abby, 13, is looking forward to watching the moon turn purple, unaware that deadly bacteria from a passing comet will soon kill off older teens and adults. She must help her brother and baby sister survive in this new world, but all the while she has a ticking time bomb inside of her--adolescence.

*Parental discretion advised for readers 13 and under*

Sarah Dalton – The Blemished

A beautiful world comes at a price...

The Blemished is a frightening take on a fractured future where the Genetic Enhancement Ministry have taken control of Britain. It will take you on a ride filled with adventure, romance and rebellion.

Katie French – The Breeders


Sixteen-year-old Riley Meemick is one of the world's last free girls. When Riley was born, her mother escaped the Breeders, the group of doctors using cruel experiments to bolster the dwindling human race. Her parents do everything possible to keep her from their clutches-- moving from one desolate farm after another to escape the Breeders' long reach. The Breeders control everything- the local war lords, the remaining factories, the fuel. They have unchecked power in this lawless society. And they're hunting Riley.




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Excerpts:



Elle Casey – Apocalypsis: Book One Khayatle

I stuffed the sleeping bag down into my backpack with angry, punching motions, sick and tired of having to be here and having to do the same thing over and over again. I hated camping, I hated being organized, and more than anything, I hated what this exercise stood for.
“Don’t do it like that. I told you - you have to conserve the room as best you can. You have to travel as efficiently as possible. Take it out and start over.”
“I don’t see what difference it makes.”
“Trust me, it’s going to be a really big deal to you in the not so distant future.” His voice sounded hollow.
“Says who?” I was being ornery. I knew the answer to the question already.
“Says me, Bryn. And the news. Look around, would you?” He sounded like he was pleading now. “Stop defaulting back to the rebellious young teen act, and get serious. We don’t have enough time to play those games anymore.”
“They’re not games, Dad. I am a teenager. I don’t care what the news jerks and the government say.” I threw my backpack down on the ground. “And it’s not rebellious to not want to play friggin’ survivor in the backyard every day.”
My dad looked at me with a sad expression and sighed, reaching over to pull me into a tight hug. He dropped his nose to my head and inhaled deeply.
My face was pressed up against his shirt, and I could smell his sweat mixed with the sweet scent of his aftershave. My dad always said he was the last of a dying breed, using that stuff. He couldn’t have been more right.
“Maybe it’s not going to happen here … to us.” I said it just to hear the words, but I knew it was only wishful thinking.
I could tell he was getting choked up again when he started talking, his voice now hoarse.
“I wish, more than anything else in this world, that you didn’t have to be standing here with me in this backyard playing survivor.” His whole body started to shake with silent sobs. “Oh, God, Bryn. If I could do anything to change this, anything at all, I would. I swear to God I would. But it’s happening. No one can stop it.”
I put my arms around his waist, letting go of my earlier stubborn anger, now choking back my own tears. “I know, Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, you did,” he said, sniffing hard and clearing his throat, shifting to hold me at arm’s length. He was staring at me while he smiled through his tears, giving me that look. The one that always made me confess.
“Okay, so maybe I did mean it. But I’ll shut up about it for a little while.”
“Not for too long, though. You wouldn’t be my daughter if you weren’t complaining about something.”
I tried to slap him playfully but he moved too fast for me. My dad is light on his feet, an expert level-one practitioner of krav maga - a certified badass. He’d only recently taken up camping.
“Pick it up,” he ordered, now back in control of his emotions. “Do it again. Only this time, get the air out of that bag first, condense it down …”
I cut him off. “I know, I know … ‘down into the smallest footprint possible.’ Geez, Dad, I’m not an idiot.”
I shook the sleeping bag out and started rolling it up quickly, using the moves I’d been practicing for four months straight to squeeze it down into a lump the size of a small loaf of bread. I folded the whole thing in half, pushed it to the bottom of the backpack, and then let it unfold itself one time, before putting the other items in on top of it: unbreakable water bottle, half-liter of bleach, square of plastic, cup, hunting knife, and various other tools my father was quite certain I would need … once all the adults in the world had died off, leaving us kids alone to fend for ourselves.




Excerpt:


Shalini Boland - Outside

Pa is a black marketeer. Nobody and everybody knows this. Pa pays people not to rock the boat. He pays the guards, he pays the neighbours and he even pays his friends. He pays off just about everyone – a litre of whisky here and a bag of sugar there, and in return we live a life of ease and comfort. Pa believes in the carrot approach just as much as the punishing stick. As long as he doesn’t draw too much attention to himself from the wrong quarters, we’re safe and free.
Pa can get his hands on just about anything from before. If you’ve got a craving for a pot noodle he can probably magic one up from somewhere. But it’ll cost you all you’ve got and more besides. He isn’t swayed by threats or tears. He’ll hold fast and stare you down and if you can’t pay you might get a bullet in your head, or worse.
This morning, my parents are standing together in the doorway of the sitting room. Behind me, the sun floods in through the windows and they edge closer to avoid squinting into the too-bright light.
Their faces are ghost white and Ma’s nose and eyes are pink and swollen. She shivers and her teeth chatter as though she’s chilled and it isn’t the warm July morning it appears to be.
‘Riley, can you sit down?’ Pa asks.
‘Okay,’ I say. They’re acting weird. It’s freaking me out. My legs are heavy wood and I’m not sure I can make the three feet required to reach the sofa.
‘Okay,’ I repeat. But I don’t move. I just keep looking from one to the other and they stare back almost as if they’re afraid of me.
‘Riley, sit down,’ Pa says.
I walk to the sofa and sit in one corner with my hands on my lap. The leather is cool against my legs in the warmth of the room. Fear has travelled up from my stomach to my throat and I can’t swallow. I feel sick.
‘Riley,’ he says, running his hands slowly through his hair.
‘No!’ Ma loses it. She sobs and stumbles towards me. Sits and buries her head in my chestnut curls, rocking me backwards and forwards, moaning and muttering. I can’t breathe she’s holding me so tight.
‘Sweetheart, let go, you’re crushing her. Go and lie down upstairs if you want. I’ll tell her.’ Pa’s voice is soft and broken. It doesn’t sound a bit like him.
She lets go of me, cups my face in her hands and kisses my face all over. ‘No, It’s alright, I’m alright,’ she says not taking her eyes from my face. ‘I'm not leaving my baby.’ She leans back, trembling. I press my hands back into my lap and she wraps her arms around herself, still shivering and rocking.
Our house has always been a light and happy place. I don’t understand what’s going on. My face and pyjama top are wet from Ma’s sticky tears. I let my mind wander for a minute, away from the awful strangeness of what’s going on and I hear the low background hum of the generators overlaid by the familiar whirr and thrum of a copter hovering overhead.
Has my father done something wrong? Are we in danger? Do we have to leave the Perimeter? All the most awful things I can think of crowd my brain. And then … Skye! Why isn’t she here? My little sister is usually up before me. I hesitate, not wanting to pose the question. Maybe she’s too young for this conversation and they’ve sent her out of earshot. She won't like that; she’ll kick up a real fuss. But then I would have heard them arguing and everything has been quiet this morning; abnormally quiet up until now.
An unwanted thought creeps into my head and I push it out quickly.
‘Where’s Skye?’ My voice sounds high pitched and distant, like my ears need to pop.
Pa comes close and crouches down in front of me. He takes both my hands in his and looks into my eyes.
‘Something’s happened.’ He breaks off. ‘We’re waiting for … We’re not sure ...’
And then something really horrible happens. My powerful, strong, wonderful father starts crying. Proper messy crying where his face twists and his voice sounds broken. I’m appalled. He never cries.
‘Pa …’
I’m not a typical daddy’s girl. I love the bones of him, but I feel easiest around Ma. We always talk make-up, fashion, gossipy stuff and laugh a lot together. Skye belongs to Pa and Pa definitely belongs to Skye. They’re a team. I never feel excluded exactly, but I don’t have the same natural connection they do.
‘Riley,’ he says. ‘I don't know how to say this.’ He looks over at Ma who’s staring at him in horror. ‘Skye is … Skye is. Oh Riley, she … she’s dead.’
I stare down at the patterns on the carpet. I’ve never noticed just how vivid the individual colours are. The over-all effect is of a soft warmth, but I focus on a particular strand of red that seems almost luminous, as if it’s going to jump out of the weave and hit me in the face.