We’re so excited to have Kit Rocha for the 2013 Indie-Credible Authors Event hosted by Little Red Riding Hood and Creative Deeds. We absolutely LOVE Kit Rocha’s dystopian erotic romance BEYOND series, and we we are thrilled to reveal the newly-redesigned cover for BEYOND PAIN (BEYOND, BOOK THREE)! Plus we have an extended excerpt and scroll down for a code for a FREE download of BEYOND SHAME (BEYOND, BOOK ONE). Finally, we have 2 incredible giveaways!
Beyond Pain (Beyond, Book Three)
RELEASE DATE: August 26, 2013
A woman with no future…
Live fast, die young–anything else is a fantasy for Six. She’s endured the worst the sectors had to throw at her, but falling in with Dallas O’Kane’s Sector Four gang lands her in a whole new world of danger. They’re completely open about everything, including their sexuality–but she hasn’t survived this long by making herself vulnerable. Especially not to men as dominant as Brendan Donnelly.
A man without a past…
Bren is a killer, trained in Eden and thrown to the sectors. His one outlet is pain, in the cage and in the bedroom, and emotion is a luxury he can’t afford–until he meets Six. Protecting her soothes him, but it isn’t enough. Her hunger for touch sparks a journey of erotic discovery where anything goes–voyeurism, flogging, rough sex. He has only one rule: he won’t share her.
In Bren’s arms, Six is finally free to let go. But his obsession with the man who made him a monster could destroy the fragile connection they’ve forged, and cost him the one thing that makes him feel human–her love.
The loneliest place at a party was on the fringes. The edge of the crowd, just on the other side of belonging. That’s where Six had expected to be, drifting off into invisibility while the O’Kanes hooted and hollered and welcomed two more into the fold. She hadn’t expected Bren to park himself next to her. “You don’t have to stand with me,” she told him quietly as they watched Cruz down two shots of tequila and slam the empty glasses next to the four that had held whiskey and vodka. Bren just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching the spectacle with a small smile. “I don’t mind.” He hadn’t lied to her yet, so she took the words at face value and watched Cruz start his way around the loose circle of O’Kanes. He’d done the same after each of the previous pairs of shots, accepting hugs and kisses and Ace’s too-enthusiastic back-pounding. By the time Cruz had passed the spot where Six and Bren were standing, Rachel had poured another shot of tequila and offered it to Trix. The redhead grimaced comically before letting Mad pull her into a warm hug of welcome. It was a world away from life in Three, and not just because Trix was being welcomed as a full member. Mad’s brown skin would have barred him from the ranks of Trent’s gang, no matter how skilled he was. “Dallas doesn’t care, does he?” she asked Bren, following Trix’s progress around the circle. Mad wasn’t the only one who would have been excluded. Ace, Lex, Flash, maybe even Cruz–and those were just the names she knew. “Care about what?” “What color people are.” It hadn’t mattered on the farms, but the street kids in Three grouped together with others who looked like them, piecing together scraps of identity from the lucky few who remembered having parents. And Trent had never grown past it, even when it hurt him. “Cain had valuable farming contacts, and Trent still almost didn’t let him in his gang.” “Because he’s black?” Bren shook his head with a snort. “No, Dallas doesn’t give a shit. Hard to believe there are people around who still do.” “Dumb people.” Six couldn’t help her wry laugh. “They still care if you have tits, too. Dumb people care about lots of silly things.” “Yeah, they do.” His last words were almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Cruz took his next shots. “Do the guys always have to drink more than the women?” she asked, eyeing the man’s progress. He was still pretty steady, but she doubted he would be with twelve more shots sloshing in his stomach. “The men are bigger,” Bren answered simply, then laughed. “Don’t worry, you can do both shots if you want. Sometimes the ladies do.” As if there was no question at all that Dallas would accept her, like the only thing standing between her and a family was the technicality of time. Funny how the knowledge could be soothing even while it made her feel trapped. “I could get down sixteen shots, but I might not be walking back to my own bed afterwards.” “Neither did Rachel. She loved the whole world for about twenty minutes, then she threw up all over me and Jas.” Six pressed her lips together as firmly as possible, biting the inside of her cheek until the urge to smile had passed. “I hope Cruz doesn’t puke on us.” Bren said nothing, but the tops of his ears grew pink as a blush crept up his face. Oh, God. He’d thrown up. She could bite her lips bloody and not hide her sudden grin, so she tipped her head forward and let her hair sweep down to shield her expression from him. “That’s okay. I’ve heard booze hits old men harder.” “Smartass.” “C’mon. You can’t be the only guy who couldn’t hold down sixteen shots in a row.” “He’s not,” Lex cut in, easing between them. “But Bren doesn’t spill secrets. Unless, of course, they belong to Rachel–who’s gonna kick your ass, by the way.” “I know,” Bren said mildly. Six tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced at Lex. The female leader of the O’Kanes was dressed down–for her–but she still made a statement. Her pants alone were worth a month’s wages, the leather so supple it hugged every curve and moved when Lex did. Lush, especially when compared to her tiny white tank top, but that scrap of fabric had a different purpose: to barely cover her tits while framing the pair of tattoos that shouted her status, with Dallas’s name across her abdomen and his mark around her throat. The O’Kanes said everything that mattered to them with ink. It made her feel naked, sometimes, having none at all. Lex didn’t seem to care. Her gaze tracked around the room instead, and she shook her head. “Things’ll get pretty wild around here tonight.” Six couldn’t tell if it was a warning or not. “I thought all your parties got a little wild.” “Some wilder than others. Right, Bren?” Before he could speak, Trix whirled around, laughing dizzily. Lex caught her with a smile and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Steady, love.” “Sorry.” Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling with quick, elated breaths. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Lex guided her toward Bren. He kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, and something ugly and dark twisted in Six’s gut, a feeling unpleasantly like jealousy. She jerked her gaze away in time to watch Lex fist a hand in Cruz’s short hair and lick her way past his lips. Jesus, these people had no boundaries. Lex held the kiss, her tongue sliding over his, while he kept his hands out at his sides, as if he didn’t know where he could safely rest them. Six didn’t blame him–Dallas O’Kane was a scary fucker. But when his voice came bellowing across the crowd, Dallas only sounded amused. “Christ, woman,” he called out. “Pace yourself. He’s barely halfway there.” “Technicalities,” Lex murmured as she pulled away and patted Cruz’s cheek. “Enjoy your party.” The man might be six-foot-four and carved from rock, but Six swore he blushed as he stumbled to the next person in the circle. At least she wasn’t the only one out of her element. She tried to fake a casualness she didn’t feel as Trix and Cruz worked their way back around toward Rachel. “What happens when they’re done with their shots?” “If they’re still upright?” Lex raised both eyebrows as she backed away into the crowd. “Anything goes, honey.” Six couldn’t bring herself to look at Bren with the words hanging in the air, vibrating with promise. “Anything, huh?” He stepped closer, his arm brushing hers. “She’s exaggerating, but not much. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go.” “Not uncomfortable yet.” Six bumped her hip against his. “I didn’t get it last time.” She felt his stare, intense and focused. “Get what?” She watched Ace give Trix a friendly slap on the ass that earned him an indulgent smile in return. “That they don’t wanna fuck me if I’m not into it.” “Not even a little bit.” Bren gestured around the room. “Everyone in here is into something different. Mad likes to have as many people around as possible. Flash used to dig the groupies before he hooked up with Amira. Jas and Noelle are together, but they like to play a little, too. Dallas and Lex are… Well, they’re them. But no one in here gets off on forcing anyone.” “But it’s not just that. I’ve met plenty of guys who aren’t into force but are fine with a woman who’ll close her eyes and put up with it.” She’d expected Dallas to be one of them, but maybe she’d been selling the arrogance of the O’Kanes too short. None of these men would tolerate being tolerated. Bren’s words confirmed it. “Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.” If it had, he would have already fucked her. She shifted her weight, and the warm skin of his arm pressed more firmly against hers. “Must be nice to be such hot stuff you can hold out for the good sex,” she said lightly. He brushed a lock of hair off her cheek, and her stomach dropped out as his fingertips grazed the shell of her ear. She dragged in an unsteady breath and shoved both hands into her pants pockets to keep from reaching for him. “Cheater.” “Why?” His hand lingered near her face. “Because you like it? Or because you want more?” Bren didn’t ask rhetorical questions. He asked blunt ones and expected honest answers. Worse, he acted on the things she told him. If she said she didn’t like it, he’d stop, even if he didn’t believe her. There was no safe evasion, no closing her eyes and protesting too much and secretly hoping he’d keep going. Honesty–especially about sex–tasted odd on her lips. “I like it,” she said carefully. “I don’t know if I like liking it. It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” He nodded. “I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want, but it doesn’t stop there. I wouldn’t do anything you weren’t really fucking sure about, either.” Her heart pounded as the full import of his words slipped through her. The precarious balance of their relationship had tilted. He’d given her the power to ask for more, had painted a magical picture with deceptively innocent words. Do anything. So mundane, but easy to imagine them lower, rougher. Whispered against her ear, they’d paint a different picture. I want to do things to you. She shivered. “If you wait for me to be sure about anything, you really will be an old man before you get the good stuff.” He turned toward her, leaned closer, his bulk and the look in his eyes blocking out the rest of the room. When he spoke, it wasn’t against her ear but her cheek, hot and gruff. “What qualifies as the good stuff? Tell me.” This time it wasn’t a question. It was an order, an out-and-out command. As hot as his lips were against her cheek, she would not tremble like some city girl who’d just gotten her first glimpse under a man’s clothes. She pressed her hand to his chest and slid it down, past the thick leather of his belt, until her fingers found the firm bulge of his half-aroused cock. At least she wasn’t the only one getting hot and bothered. With a shred more confidence, she traced the outline of his growing erection before pressing her palm against it. “Every man I’ve ever met thought it was getting this inside me somehow.” He swallowed, his throat working, and the barest hint of a groan escaped him. “That’s not what I asked you.” “Then I don’t know.” She needed to release him, but feeling him harden under her touch carried a dizzy sort of power. How long had it been since she’d wanted a man to feel good when she touched him? Long enough that she let her fingers fall away. “The only good stuff I know about is getting off, and I never needed a man for that.” The back of his hand grazed the button on her jeans. “No, I guess you don’t.” She hissed in a breath and tried not to picture his fingers sliding down the same path her own had taken so many times. “Do you get what I’m saying, though?” His touch vanished. “No, but I get what it means. It means not yet.” From the shouts and whooping cheers behind him, Cruz and Trix had made another pass. Six felt bolted in place, held captive by nothing more than his gaze and her own confused longing. “What do you think the good stuff is?” she asked, desperate to prolong this quiet oasis of brutal honesty. “Fucking? That damn sure counts.” A tiny smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “But so does everything else.” Without taking her eyes from his, she touched his shoulder. Strong muscles flexed enticingly under her fingertips as she slid her hand down his arm and finally twined her fingers with his. “Even this?” Bren’s smile faded as he raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Especially this.” The sudden burn in her chest scared her. It wasn’t arousal, but something far more insidious, more dangerous. Affection, digging hooks into the painful scars on her heart, and she had to laugh it off to keep from flinging his hand away and bolting. “Then you’re easy, Donnelly.” “I know.” He looked away, and the moment was broken. But she still had his hand, his grip firm and reassuring. So she clung to him as the O’Kanes celebrated their newest members, and almost felt as if she belonged. Almost.
SERIES READING ORDER:
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Kit Rocha is actually two people–Bree & Donna, best friends who are living the dream. They get paid to work in their pajamas, talk on the phone, and write down all the stories they used to make up in their heads.
Kit Rocha Giveaway: 1 reader (U.S. only) will win an O’Kane for Life Flask!
Event Giveaway: Several authors have contributed over $250 in cash and prizes!