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CLAIMED ROYALTY by Betty Shreffler #AvailableNow

23 November 2018

They say one action doesn’t define you. I killed a man. Stabbed him in the neck and licked the blood off my lips after I did it. 
Still, one action doesn’t define you. 
I could have called anyone. My father, the Prez of The Fallen MC, our family lawyer, my best friend, Lila, or my brother, King. 
I didn’t. 
Instead, I called Lionel Danner, the police officer renowned for taking down the Nightstalkers MC. The man who had been my father’s arch nemesis for decades. The man who hated everything I stood for. A man who had disappeared from my life without explanation three years ago. 
I called him. 
And maybe one action doesn’t define you, but killing a bad man and calling in the good changed my life and it sure as hell changed his. 
The third book in the Fallen Men Series. A standalone featuring Harleigh Rose and Officer Lionel Danner.

19 November 2018

He was a dare she couldn’t walk away from.
She was a game he was determined to win.
Jensen Stone was thriving in her first year of college. So thirsty for success she could already taste the achievements on her lips. Nothing would get in the way of her dreams, not even the social pressures of pledging. Until one night, she finds herself in the lion’s den of sorority row, accepting a dare she knew she couldn’t complete.
Damien Cross was bored. He no longer craved the dominance and control he had swirling in the palms of his powerful hands. He was determined to walk away from the empire he'd spent the last ten years building. What he didn’t factor in was the unexpected distraction. He might be angry at her inconvenient timing, but the urge to break the new toy dangling in front of him was all consuming. It wouldn’t hurt to play one last time.
One night. His rules.
Will she obey his demands to fulfill a dare?
Or will she realize his dark tastes are anything but exquisite?
I need more! This story was steamy, angsty, and suspenseful. It’s packed with some naughty tidbits, a lot of catty sorority girl shenanigans, and enough action that guarantees that there’s a little something for every reader. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on this book, and now I’m looking forward to seeing what the next HOtCom brings! These characters are amazing, and their stories bring many layers to overall book. I highly recommend this must read!!
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

15 November 2018

Love is weakness.
Which is why Annabelle Mills vowed a long time ago to never let it destruct her. A former pageant queen with a bite equally as lethal as her bark, she’s interning at her dream job on the set of the highest-rated home design show on television. Everything in Annabelle’s life, though it may be cold and isolated, is going exactly as she always planned.
Until her ex-high school sweetheart moves to town. The same boy that she cheated on, once upon a time, essentially breaking both of their hearts. But no one knows the full story, and being vulnerable enough to open up about it is not on Annabelle’s checklist.
Hate is fuel.
The kind that courses through Boone Graham’s veins and allows him to shut out everyone around him. As the hottest rookie on Austin’s professional baseball team, he should be spending his days hitting homeruns and signing jerseys. Except he’s seen dreams ripped right out from under those closest to him, leaving them with nothing.
Without a college degree, he’ll never take the risk of pursuing his real dream. But when he runs into the girl who took a mallet to his heart and stopped it beating, attending the same university might just be the biggest challenge he’s faced yet.
As the semester unfolds, the line between love and hate is blurred. And with the amount of baggage stacked between them, together is the last thing they want to be.
That’s the thing about hearts, though. They develop plans all on their own.
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This story is about two damaged people with big dreams, that can’t resist that pull between them. It’s about forgiveness and second chances. It’s about personal growth and learning to trust. I loved this book. These characters had me hooked immediately. I highly recommend this story for all of the hopeless romantics in the world, because it’s sweet and angsty, filled with love and quirkiness, and it’s topped off with an HEA that leaves your heart feeling absolutely full.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
EXCERPT 
Boone
I only have an hour in between my workout and the film session that the hitting coaches want us to attend. My entire schedule since moving to Austin has been busy as hell and completely out of whack. Between getting my class schedule figured out, sprinting across campus to get to the buildings, dealing with my moving company, figuring out where to park my car in front of my building, practicing with the Triple-A affiliate team I was drafted to and everything in between … I’m fucking wiped. I’ve been scouted for the major leagues since my sophomore year of high school, so I thought I’d been semi-prepared for what was to come, but my mind feels like it has been put in a blender for the last two weeks. I had so not been prepared. It was as if I was hobbling around in the dark in my new reality, trying to grasp at things before they moved on me. I needed to get it the fuck together. I am a professional now and having a career as a professional baseball player would only get harder from here. From the few times I’d visited Austin for tournaments or the odd family trip, I remember we’d gone to Big Cheese’s Grill. They boasted the best burgers in town, and it was close enough to campus that the place was always packed with students and professors alike. I open the door to the restaurant while glancing at my iWatch to check the calories versus fat burned during my workout. And I slam right into a body. I bounce back, shocked at the person who just rammed into me. I fumble to hold on to them, to keep our gravity from sending both of us flying. I fail, and the body falls backward, the door slamming into my back. I absorb that blow and keep upright, thank God, or I would have been sprawled flat on top of whoever just plowed into me. “Seriously?! Watch where you’re going!” An angry, high-pitched tone fills my ears. My head is down, trying to collect its scrambled thoughts, as I reach for whoever I just knocked to the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were coming out—” The air and words leave me as I pull her up. Her hand is still in mine as we stand face-to-face, my surprise mirrored back at me. Those lips, the lashes, the eyes a rich, deep, soul-searching brown. The freckles across the bridge of her nose that make her look more innocent than she actually is. A current of tension radiates back and forth between our interlocked hands, and I can smell the glass of wine she must have just drunk on her breath. It’s sweet with a bite of alcohol, and my mouth waters for a drink. I haven’t thirsted for alcohol in five years, yet in one chance meeting, Annabelle has me reaching for a bottle. She’s poison to me, makes me want to do crazy things. I drop her hand as the thought crosses my mind, as if she’s burned me. “You should really watch where you’re going. Or did you knock me down on purpose?” Annabelle sniffs. I scoff, “Right, I often go around pushing women to the ground on purpose. I see the cold hard ice hasn’t melted off your personality, Annabelle.” And a woman she is. So much more grown up than I remembered her. She’d always been beautiful but gone was the gangliness of teenage years. This is a woman who stands in front of me, curves abound and an unseen knowledge of the world to match. I couldn’t help but get that jab in there. “And I see you’re just as focused on yourself as ever. You never did care what anyone else was doing, did you, Boone?” She folds her arms over her chest and my eyes stray to her boobs in a sizzle of heat between us. We’re like a bunch of children fighting like cats and dogs out in the street. How can she still pull out every insecure and immature trait within me? My brain is moving seconds slower than it usually does, and I know I’m standing here staring too long. Even though I hate Annabelle Mills, I can’t help but memorize every detail about her for the first time I’ve seen her in about five years. “Move.” Annabelle pushes past me, not using any manners, and starts to stalk down the sidewalk. Talk about rude. She’d always been aggressive, harsh, and just a little bit more high-maintenance than any of the other girls. It’s what had drawn me to her. And then seeing those glimpses of vulnerability, that’s what had made me stay. It was addicting feeling like you were the only one who got to see the nice side of the mean girl. I should walk into the restaurant. I should pick up my to-go order and drive back to my apartment where I’ll eat a quick lunch and change and go to the practice facility. But a flash of Annabelle in the bar the other night dances through my head. And her callous words just now piss me off even more. She always did have the perfect way of getting under my skin and driving me wild. When I’m around her, I forget who I am. I turn into some raging bull, with a fuse shorter than the bombs Itchy and Scratchy use on each other. The stupidest thing I could do right now? Stomp after her, yelling, in the middle of a crowded downtown street. So that’s exactly what I do. “You really haven’t changed a bit!” Oh, fuck. What am I doing? Annabelle rolls around, her eyes sparking with rage. “Nope, still the same cold, heartless bitch you dumped.” “Yeah, like I said, I can see that.” Lord, my mama would be so disappointed in me agreeing with a woman that she was a bitch. “Well, no one said you had to be around it. You’re the one who moved to my city. You’re welcome to leave.” She waves around like I should just get out of here. I fist my hands in my hair. Christ, she’s so aggravating. “No can do, I’m getting paid to be here.” She rolls her eyes. “Like I’m not? Have you watched TV lately? Or did you take one too many fly balls to the head? I know there weren’t a lot of brain cells in there to start.” Fuck her. Now it’s time to really piss her off, get under her skin like she’s under mine. “Oh, you mean that show you play house on or whatever? They’ll get bored of you when the next eye-candy pageant queen comes along.” I swear Annabelle could spit nails at me if she willed it right now. “You’re an asshole, Boone Graham. You’ve only ever cared about yourself and where you want to be. It was silly of me to think you’d ever think of someone but yourself.” I drop the anvil. “Says the girl who cheated on me. Who lost her virginity to another guy.” People around us are starting to stare, to really look at the two people arguing openly on the street. It’s not a good idea for me to stick around any longer; people know who I am on a national level and being seen fighting with a girl, who someone will inevitably social media stalk and find out is my ex, is not good publicity. Except I can’t stop staring into Annabelle’s eyes. They are furious, yes, but there is something more there. I’ve really … hurt her. I’m shocked, to be honest. I didn’t think I could remotely hurt this girl, who self-identifies as a cold, heartless bitch. But there it is. The raw flash, miss-it-if-you-blink second of real pain that flickers through those mocha pools. I open my mouth to say something, to take it back, maybe apologize, but she speaks first. “You have no idea.” Her tone pulls at my heartstrings, it’s low and somber. And then she melts into the crowd, giving no explanation of what I have no idea about. Ca

14 November 2018

I once was a hero. Until she kept me as her captive, tortured me, and killed my brothers. She bred a monster. Nothing could stop me from seeking revenge. But it was over so quickly—her easy death a mercy she didn’t deserve. For a decade, the burning rage of what she did has transformed into something uncontrollable. Something I want to feed. Something I crave to unleash. I want to make her pay. Over and over and over again. Finding the evil, spoiled women sates my ravenous, vengeful soul. I hunt. I capture. I destroy. Slowly. So slowly. One, two, three, four, five… And now six. I’m wicked and sadistic. I am Cold Cole Heart. My mission is death and their payment to me has come due. Number six thinks she is different. Yet when I look at her, I see them. She will pay. They always do. 
Dark and twisted? 
Addictive?
From the deep dark mind of K Webster?
How about...yes, yes, and hell yes!!
I couldn't wait to get my hands on this twisty book, from the first second that I heard it was in existence. This author never disappoints, and even more than that, she's unpredictable. You never know what you're getting yourself into, until you're experiencing it along with the characters. 
These characters will keep you tangled up in a mix of love and hate. You love them even when you probably should hate them, but they're written so well, and their love is so undeniable, that you can't help yourself, but to beg for more. 
This story keeps your eyes and mind hostage until the very last page, and leaves you reeling, and ward off an inevitable book hangover that lasts for days. DAYS!! 
This is an absolute must read to everyone that fancies a truly dark and twisted romantic tale. Did I mention that I absolutely LOVE THIS STORY?! 
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

06 November 2018

There’s one thing you should know. I wasn’t that drunk.
I was more than sober enough to put a stop to it. The truth is, it was my idea. I’m the one who suggested it.
I knew it was crazy, but it’s not as if I’d be the first girl to get married on a whim in Las Vegas. I wouldn’t even be the last girl to get married on a whim in Las Vegas.
So what’s my excuse? I liked him. I liked the idea that he’d be stuck with me, just for a little bit.
Because nothing good ever lasts, so you might as well have a good time while you can.
GOOD TIME is a standalone romantic comedy set in the same world as Good Girl. This is Payton & Vince's story.
Apple Books: http://bit.ly/GoodTApple 
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/GoodTBN 
EXCERPT 
He thinks I’m funny. And exasperating. And bossy. And beautiful, he said that I was beautiful.
It’s not the worst start in the history of starts, but I’d like to know more.
I pull out a stool and sit down at the island countertop so I can watch Vince work. It occurs to me once again what a shit wife I am. I don’t cook. I don’t give blow jobs. I haven’t asked if he needs anything dropped off at the dry cleaner. I don’t wear sexy lingerie. Maybe I should change? To be fair, the blow job thing is not my fault. I did offer that first night. I meant to yesterday but he distracted me with his tongue and that was that. Gah, I’m just the worst.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Giving you a blow job.”
“Yeah?” Vince responds easily, as if we’re talking about where the cutting board is. “Do you have a list of specific requirements for how you’d want that to happen?”
So he’s open to the idea, is what I’m hearing. Maybe he’ll want to date after the annulment and he’ll fall in love with me? It’ll make a great story for our grandchildren.
“You say that like I’m demanding.”
“You are.”
“I’m extremely easy-going! Everyone says so!” No one says that, actually. But it’s probably just because it’s never come up. It’s not as if I go around asking people if they think I’m easy-going, but if I did, they’d say yes. Probably. At least everyone except Vince would.
“You have a very easy-going way of getting your own way,” Vince states as he sets a pot of water on the stove to boil.
I suppose I can see where he might think that. That might even be a fair assessment. I’m really self-aware. I need to add that to my list of positive attributes.
“So for the blow job, can I tie you up?”
“No.” The answer is firm, his lips twitching like the question was amusing.
Humph. “Can you tie me up?”
“How are you going to give me a blow job if you’re tied up?”
Dammit! Worst. Wife. Ever. “I suppose without my hands it’d be more like you using my mouth to masturbate while I did nothing, wouldn’t it?”
“What a visual you paint, Payton.”
“You’re still welcome to tie me up though. It doesn’t have to be tradesies.”
“Tradesies,” he mutters with a shake of his head, but he’s smiling as he uncorks the wine and pours two glasses.
“So, where do you see yourself in five years, Vince?” Might as well dive in with the talking.
He looks up from rolling back his shirt sleeves, a look of confusion flashing across his face replaced with an amused narrowing of his eyes.
“Excuse me? Is this an interview?” He laughs, placing a pan on my stovetop before rummaging through my cabinets for a bottle of olive oil.
“This is serious. You’ll be old and divorced. Think about that.”
“An annulment doesn’t count as a divorce. It doesn’t count as anything.”
“Try telling that to Britney. She’s gonna have that nineteen-hour marriage on her Wikipedia page until she dies. Wikipedia, Vince. That’s forever.”
“Okay, whoa. Let’s step back a moment here.”
“Do you need a wife with benefits?” I press on, because taking a step back doesn’t sound like it will get me anywhere.
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I have health insurance. Do you need health insurance? I could add you to my plan. It’s very reasonable, adding a spouse only costs like an extra two hundred dollars a month. It’s a really good plan, too. At least that’s what Lydia told me and she works in Human Resources so she would know. I’m no benefits package expert.”
“That’s not what the term ‘with benefits’ means.”
“Listen, in this case I think it’s exactly what that means. Society is the one who turned the word ‘benefit’ into something dirty.”
“So there’d be no sex in this exchange?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course there’d be sex.”
“Did you just talk yourself into a circle?”
“Maybe.” Dammit.

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Interlude
Hostage
Deeper
Love Broken
Peep Show
Elements of Mischief
She Asked for It
Midnight Blue
Ten Night Stand
The Spark
Deviant
Too Easy
Signed
Afternoon Delights: A Collection of Hot Short Stories
Deep
In Deep
Prisoner
My Torin
Their Stepsister
The Fix