Blog Tour: Immure Diaries Series Vols 1-3 by HQ Frost

Title: Immure Diaries Series

Author: H.Q. Frost

Genre: Romantic Suspense

“Sexy and suspenseful.” - Amazon Reviewer Vol 1

“GAAAHHHH!!!!!!! Malcolm..... Love him OMG! Where can I meet a man like him?!” - Nicole’s Book Blog and Review Vol 1

“But on a serious tip...you need this series in your life...like legit. Frost knows how to write a the efff out of a book. She has this great style that is not like any other author I have read.” - Amazon Reviewer Vol 2

“It's an exciting roller coaster ride that leaves you wanting more.” - Radical Reads Book Blog Vol 2

“LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS IS A SERIES THAT EVERYONE MUST READ!!!!” - Amazon Reviewer Vol 3

“I loved this book and the entire series, the ending was perfect.” - Amazon Reviewer Vol 3

A chance encounter puts Akela Dietz in a stupor for the first time in years. When the encounter happens again and again, she becomes leery of the attractive Brit that puts a beat back into her heart.

Malcolm Corpseknot III is peculiar, too good looking to be true, and a trained killer. When his scope is set on Akela, he’s not sure if he wants to hit or miss. 

She’s a force to be reckoned with, already having given up on life, and she’s going to be the death of him. If she doesn’t end up dead first.

"Who are you?" she demanded answers, not realizing he was pulling her between two buildings. "I told you, I'm Malcolm Corpseknot the third." Realizing she was being led to a shaded alley, Akela opened her lips to scream and he slapped his hand over her mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you," the promise was breathed softly into her ear. "Listen to me." His lips were against her earlobe and his hand sat firmly clamped over her mouth. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to lower my hand. Do not scream." His eyes met hers, waiting for a grunt, or nod, or some indication of an agreement, but she didn't comply. "I want to lower my hand, Akela," he slowly spoke, staring her in the eyes. "Are you going to scream?" Akela shook her head yes and he chuckled, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

Cold, collected, crazy. He’s a Death Dealer to the scared. A master to the envious. And a ticking time bomb to the sane. Lost, living, lusting. She’s fighting for sanity anymore. Finding a new life directed by a dangerous man holding her heart. But her fragile heart breaks every time he walks away. He’s a devil in disguise, but she likes things hot, and he’s going to be the death of her. If he doesn’t end up dead first.

She rushed to her purse, pouring out a handful of the pills Ed gave her. "Take these." She shoved the now bloody pills into his mouth. "I have to stop the bleeding. Don't move, okay?" Her heart was racing as she ran to the bathroom, grabbing towels and gauze. She could feel her pulse everywhere, making it difficult to use her hands. Taking in the amount of blood, she whimpered, "Malcolm, I don't know what to do." "Pull it out." He tried to reach the object protruding from his side that looked like a knife sharpening stick. "Pull it out," he exhaled again. Shaking, she gripped the end and yanked, expelling a painful grunt from him that made her heart scream and stomach sick. The blood poured like a fountain and she quickly put a towel to the circular wound. "The bleeding won't s-s-stop," her words were stuttered with shock. "I don't know what to do! I have to take you to a hospital." "No," he growled. "I need Ed.” His voice was too faint, it terrified her that those would be his last words.

She’s followed in his footsteps and doesn’t plan on looking back. He regrets creating the woman she’s become, but he won’t deny she’s skilled. Together they could dominate, but they work better alone. She’d die for him and he’s killed for her. Their love has always been a battle that neither can control. As much as she pulls, he pushes. As often as he begs, she denies. There’s one thing that will always be certain. No matter where they end up, the other won’t be far.

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H.Q. Frost is a fiction dictator that resides in Northeast Michigan with her busy family. She's been writing since her teenage years as a hobby, but she decided to share her love with the world a few years ago! The exhilarating journey of the indie world is one she quickly fell in love with and she fan-girls when someone reads the fiction she's created.

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Release Blitz: Hitched by Christine Manzari

Title: Hitched

Series: Hearts of Stone #2

(can be read as standalone)

Author: Christine Manzari

Genre: New Adult Romance

Release Date: March 21, 2017

For aspiring journalist Harlow Ransom, life is just a well-oiled machine, and if she plans well, all things will go accordingly. And that is exactly why Harlow lives her life by perfectly polished to-do lists that she refuses to stray from—even when she's celebrating her 21st birthday in Sin City.

1. Visit the Boom Boom Blues Lounge

2. See the water show at the Bellagio

Things can't possibly go askew if she crosses things off her list one by one. But after a night of celebrating leads to waking up in bed with a sexy stranger and a ring on her finger, Harlow realizes that in no point in time did she ever have "Get Married" on her trusty to-do list. Yet that's exactly what she did. 

Professional snowboarder Trace Stone loves a good challenge—he's all about the win. And this time, he's going to find a way to win over the feisty, meticulous Harlow. The wedding may have been spontaneous and impulsive, but when he said "forever," he meant it. Now, the only thing he wants on Harlow's to-do list is him—from this day forward.

“This book has everything I need in a romance novel. Steamy hot scenes (hello!) and humor (Couch Cat! Buzz!) are some of what Manzari does best, but what always strikes me are the depth of her characters.” - Author Laura Ward

“I loved this book! The hero is amazing! He's charming, witty, sexy and made me laugh!” - justlovemybooks.com blog

“This book was an epic love story that starts out with both the reader and the characters having absolutely no clue that their lives are about to be flipped around and turned inside out.” - Nerd Girl Official

Dancing. Alcohol. Heat. Lips. Laughter. Flirtatious touches. 

Harlow naked in my bed.

I had no idea what time it was, but it was late. She said just one drink. She said there would be no bed in our future. She said she was immune to my charm. 

All lies. 

I’d lost count of how many times we’d fucked. All I knew was each time we reached the end, our lips and fingers greedily held on until it started all over again. I knew every inch of her. I’d had my mouth on each spot at least once. I wouldn’t be happy until I’d conquered every fucking inch of her.

I was sore and tired and spent, but in the best goddamn way.

The bed was still in one piece, and that was more surprising than the fact that Harlow was in it. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind if we fucked it into a pile of rubble if it meant that morning never came. I had a feeling when the sun rose, it would all end. She would fade away just like the dancing water at the fountain where I first saw her.

I growled at the thought and worked my fingers into her long curls, for some way to hold on.

Her body was slick underneath me as I pushed up onto my knees, sliding in and out of her. Her limbs were wrapped around mine, holding me close. I could smell the sweet scent of alcohol and sex as I dipped my head to taste her neck. I devoured the tender skin along her throat, my teeth and tongue making her breath catch. Her slim body bucked up against me, and my fingers dug in, trying to tame the wild roll of her hips before she pushed me over the edge too soon. I kissed across her jaw until my mouth found hers and when she kissed me back, it became punishing. She teased her lips against mine, accepting the wild plunge of my tongue, and then pulled away until I was begging for more. 

“Faster,” she demanded against my mouth. She dug her fingers into my skin and pulled me flush against her, pushing up into me recklessly. Soon my body was grinding and pounding against hers. Hard into soft. Over and over again. She was under me, but she was riding me, urging me with every tilt of her hips, daring me to go harder. Deeper. 

And I was so lost in the sensation. My touch was frantic trying to sear everything about her into my memory.

When I thrust into her, my knees dug into the mattress and the headboard knocked against the wall. She moaned into my mouth with every rock of our bodies and it just made me want to do it again. To hear her beg my name. To feel her grab onto me. To feel her come around me.

I pulled my lips away from hers so I could look down at her. Thick lashes lifted and all I could see was green—the deep emerald of shiny bottle glass, gazing back at me. Burning for me. Her hair was spread in copper tangles across the mattress, the pillows and blankets shoved to the floor hours ago by her wild hands. Her pale skin was flushed pink and shiny with sweat. The fingers of one hand were still fisted in the sheet beneath her, yanking so hard she was pulling it free from the corner of the bed. The other hand was pressed against my ass, both of her legs wrapped around mine to keep me close.

“Don’t stop,” she begged. “It’s so good.”’

“I told you I’d make it good for you.”

Thrust. 

The thump of the headboard spurred me on.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she panted. “You’re a stranger. I’m never reckless. I’m always in control. I never break rules.”

“Rules are no fun unless they’re broken.”

Thrust. Thrust.

Her eyes closed. She made a sexy sound in the back of her throat as she ripped the sheet free from the edge of the bed. I ran my hand up her side, cupping her breast before leaning down to take her nipple in my mouth.

“Maybe I should marry you,” she moaned across the top of my head as her hand clutched my hair, holding me to her chest. “Then we could do this every night.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled around the smooth skin of her breast.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

I let go of her hair and reached between us, stroking her. Making her body tremble. She clenched her teeth as if to hold her moans inside, like she could keep the pleasure all to herself. 

Fuck that. Those moans belonged to me. 

My fingers explored, sliding along the sweet spot where I sunk deep inside her. On the next stroke in, my finger followed, stretching her, filling her more.

Her eyes flew wide open. The wordless shape of her mouth and stuttered gasps were all I needed. She held my gaze as she arched up into me, chasing her release, racing me to the end. Again.

They say you can’t become an addict after just one hit.

They lie. 

One night. One girl. And I could feel it deep in my bones. I was addicted.

The first thing Christine does when she's getting ready to read a book is to crack the spine in at least five places. She wholeheartedly believes there is no place as comfy as the pages of a well-worn book. She's addicted to buying books, reading books, and writing books. She even turned her dining room into a library—reading is more important than eating. She also has a weakness for adventure and inappropriate humor. Christine is from Forest Hill, Maryland where she lives with her husband, three kids, and her library of ugly spine books. 

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