Reaper's Fall by Joanna Wylde Review

Reaper’s Fall is the newest standalone in the Reaper's MC Series.  Painter & Melanie's story is FINALLY here!

Available at the following retailers:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1DsDyRt

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yYt1Rn

Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pljucpa

iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/pwfxzyj

Blurb

The New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her…

He never meant to hurt her.

Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf.

Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.

Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.

      Seriously, could I love this book more?! I am a huge MC fan and Joanna Wylde has had my heart since I first stumbled across Reaper's Property. Since then I have waited with baited breath for each installment of one of my favorite MCs. We've gotten glances of Painter in previous books, and lets be honest. We have been DYING to finally get his story. And Mel is a doll! I loved seeing how Jessica grew up. I had doubts she'd make it that far! Painter and Mel have a quite a road to go before they can get their HEA...but every second of it is a ride I enjoyed being on. Yet again Ms. Wylde has masterfully put a story together that everyone will love. Writing this makes me want to go read it again! 

Excerpt

“You’re not going back to the party.”

She cocked her head, and I saw the confusion in her alcohol- glazed eyes as she wrinkled her nose at me. All cute, like a rabbit.

“You look like a bunny.”

“You look like an ax murder,” she said, frowning. “And I thought London was looking for me. Aren’t we going the wrong way?”

“I lied. I do that a lot,” I told her, staring at her lips. I reached out, catching her chin in my hand, running my thumb across her lips. Our eyes locked, and I don’t know if her pulse started to rise but mine sure as fuck did. What the hell had I been thinking, writing to this girl? She was so pretty and perfect and had this amazing, magical life just waiting for her and all I could think about was dragging her down into the dirt and shoving my cock into every hole she had.

She’d scream while I did it, too, the same sweet screams that played in my head every night while I jacked off.

I hated myself.


“Why did you lie?” she asked, her voice a whisper.


“To get you away from Taz. It’s not safe with him.”


Mel’s forehead creased in confusion, her brain moving so slowly I could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She might be smart as fuck most of the time, but she’d transitioned to drunker than fuck tonight. Kit. Kit and Em. They’d done this to her.  

I leaned in closer, catching her scent. For an instant I swayed, so tempted . . .

“They told me all about you,” she whispered.


“Who?”


“The other girls. Kit, Em. Jessica. I know how you operate,” she continued. One of her hands rose, touching my chest. Fire burst through me, because if I’d wanted her before I was desperate for her now. She was so soft, so sweet . . . so perfect.

Then her words sank in.


“What did you just say?”


“They told me all about you,” she said, eyes dropping to stare at  my lips. “They told me you have a Madonna-whore complex.” I froze.

“A what?”

“A Madonna-whore complex,” she repeated, her voice earnest. “You like to screw dirty girls and you put clean girls on pedestals, where they can stay perfect and pure. That’s pretty messed up, Painter. There’s no such thing as Madonnas and whores. We’re all just people.”

The words stunned me. What the hell was she talking about? Just because I didn’t want her dragged down in the drama and bullshit of this life didn’t mean I had some sort of fucking complex. And who the hell were the Hayes sisters to have an opinion? I couldn’t tell what pissed me off more—the fact that they’d talked to Mel about me or that they hadn’t done a better job of scaring her off.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Kit and Em are crazy, and that friend of yours—Jessica? She’s like a car crash. You don’t belong here, Mel.”

“And where do I belong?”

“With some nice kid who’ll treat you like a queen and work his ass off to give you everything perfect for the rest of your life.” The words were practically a growl.

Her eyes widened.


“What if I don’t want perfect?”


“Too fucking bad, because that’s what you’re getting.”

About the Author:

Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter |  Goodreads

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Blood & Loyalties by Ryan Michele

Title: Blood & Loyalties

Author: Ryan Michele

Genre: Mob/Mafia Romance

Cover Designer: Melissa Gill 
Photographer: Kruse Images & Photography
Cover Model: Josh McCann

Family meant everything.

Good, bad, right, wrong, legal, illegal—none of that mattered when it came to family. Family was and always would be number one. 

Catarina Lambardoni stayed on the legal side of the family businesses by running Lambardoni Enterprises. Professionally, she was beyond successful. In her personal life, however, she was not, having just walked in on her boyfriend cheating on her.

Jag Maratelli, the boss’s right hand, worked extremely hard to sustain his position in the family and honored it with his life. When he was summoned to the East Coast for an unexpected meeting, a chance encounter with Catarina and one look into the fire within her made him a very determined man.

The chemistry between the two scorched hot, and Jag had been with enough women to know Catarina was something special, something he couldn’t allow himself to walk away from. Life had other ideas, though, when a betrayal in the family sent him two thousand miles away from her while danger lurked closer than anyone realized.

Would their connection be strong enough for both of them to pursue more?

Or would people and events from the past and present make that choice for them?

Blood and Loyalties By Ryan Michele ©Ryan Michele 2015

Chapter 1—Catarina

“You stupid fucking bitch!” Antonio seethed like a pussy as he looked up from the filthy-ass floor of the bar, holding his throbbing crotch. 

I laughed, tossing my head back for good measure. Bitch was the worst he could come up with? I had been called worse than that at work when I lost a client’s millions on a bum deal. 

I lifted the pointed heel of my black, stiletto boot and plowed it hard into his windpipe, crushing it as he gasped for breath, his eyes wide with fear. He needed to be taught a lesson about fucking over a Lambardoni. It didn’t come without repercussions, and I wanted to be the one to teach him. 

Unfortunately, I knew my bodyguards had called my brother Val. They always did when shit with me happened, and if I didn’t get on with it, Val would ruin all my fun. I was more than capable of handling this weak, pathetic asshole. Val should know that. He and my other brother D had trained me to fight and shoot a target with precision, but something about being “the sister” gave them the right to be overprotective and overbearing, even if I was older than both of them. 

As I removed my foot, one of his hands wrapped around his throat as the other continued to grip his aching crotch. The stupid fucker didn’t know whether to grab his balls or neck, his arms flailing in both directions as he rolled from side to side, trying to ease the pain. He gasped for breath, the look of confusion in his eyes laughable. I did pack one hell of a powerful knee thrust, though. No doubt his balls were shoved so deep inside he could taste them in his mouth. 

Wicked thoughts crept in my head. Using my best weapon of the moment—the hot ass boots my cousin Kiera had insisted I wear for the night—I picked a spot on his rib cage and began kicking it over and over, plowing into him, hoping like hell the blows would crack the fuckers. It was the least he deserved. 

I moved with him at each turn he tried to make, hitting him dead in the same spot. He grunted and attempted to bat my foot away with his hands as he tried to hold himself at the same time. His less than stealthy attempts only made him look like a bigger pansy-assed bitch. It was amazing how much actual joy I felt from watching him struggle. 

He tried to curl up in the fetal position, the dirt from the floor coating his clothes and both sides of his face. He groaned, taking each hit, but it didn’t feel like enough. The fucker didn’t even have the balls to really fight back. 

“Catarina, what the hell happened?” Kiera said loudly at my side, trying to compensate for the music blaring in the distance. She was my cousin, best friend, and pretty much sister in every way that counts. Regardless, my focus stayed on the fucker on the floor as I stepped farther back from his withering body. 

When Kiera and I had decided to come out to the club to let off some steam from a brutal week at work, I hadn’t realized I would be getting a hefty workout like this instead of on the dance floor. 

I stared down at the man I’d thought loved me, who had said I was the one for him. The only one. Stupid. I should have known by now that the only reason men found any interest in me was because of my father and family. Each one seemed to want that pivotal “in” to the business, and for some reason, they thought I could get it for them. 

I knew Antonio wanted to move up in the ranks with his family, but it wasn’t in the cards for him. That right there should have been a huge red flag for me, but I had trusted him when he told me if he couldn’t move up in his own family, he didn’t want to move up at all. 

Lies. All fucking lies.

Ryan Michele has a huge obsession with reading, which only came to life after her best friend said she had to read Twilight. After reading that series, her entire world changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was she sucked into new worlds and all of the wonderful words authors put down on paper, she felt the urge to begin to write down the characters that played inside of her head. In doing so, Safe was born. When she’s not reading or writing, she spends time taking care of her two children and her husband, enjoying the outdoors and laying in the sun.

Perfectly Imperfect by Harper Sloan Release Blitz

Meet Willow and Kane in the newest stand alone by Harper Sloan!

NOW AVAILABLE on the following retailers:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1QqBIuM

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1HPNwUw

Nook: http://bit.ly/1kZQ87U

iBooks: http://apple.co/1WW6mAw

Blurb

Mirror, mirror ... who's the fairest of them all?

I still cringe when I hear that line. A fairy tale that had girls pretending they were the fairest, the most beautiful, and the most entitled. A fairy tale most couldn't grow out of turned my haunted childhood memories into a living nightmare. Girls who grew up believing that pile of garbage became the meanest of all 'mean girls.'

And those mean girls were right - it was a line meant for all the beautiful people in the world - and I knew the answer would never be me.

The women with long legs, flat stomachs, and perfect chests.

The type of women Kane Masters gravitated toward.

Well, that's definitely not Willow Tate.

No. That will never be me.

Because I'm completely imperfect.

And ... I hate myself.

I have no idea what Kane could possibly see in someone like me when he could have them.

About the Author

Harper lives in small town Georgia just a short drive from her hometown of Peachtree City. She (and her 3 daughters) enjoy ruling the house they dubbed 'Estrogen Ocean', much to her husband’s chagrin. Harper has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books; you can almost ALWAYS find her with her eReader attached. She enjoys bad reality TV and cheesy romantic flicks. Her favorite kind of hero--the super alpha kind!

Harper started using writing as a way to unwind when the house went to sleep at night; and with a house full of crazy it was the perfect way to just relax. It didn't take long before a head full of very demanding alphas would stop at nothing to have their story told.

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