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PRISONER by SKYE WARREN and ANNIKA MARTIN

November 12, 2014

Prisoner-SkyeWarren-AnnikaMartin 96

Title: Prisoner
Authors: Annika Martin, Skye Warren
Date of publication: October 23, 2014

 

About Prisoner:

He seethes with raw power the first time I see him—pure menace and rippling muscles in shackles. He’s dangerous. He’s wild. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

So I hide behind my prim glasses and my book like I always do, because I have secrets too. Then he shows up in the prison writing class I have to teach, and he blows me away with his honesty. He tells me secrets in his stories, and it’s getting harder to hide mine. I shiver when he gets too close, with only the cuffs and the bars and the guards holding him back. At night I can’t stop thinking about him in his cell.

But that’s the thing about an animal in a cage—you never know when he’ll bite. He might use you to escape. He might even pull you into a forest and hold a hand over your mouth so you can’t call for the cops. He might make you come so hard, you can’t think.

And you might crave him more than your next breath.

“Sexy, dark and thrilling. I loved every second of it!” ~ New York Times bestselling author Katie Reus

“Dark, sexy, and intense, Prisoner is an emotional ride that does not let go until the end. I loved it!” ~ USA Today bestselling author Kristen Callihan

 

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MY REVIEW:

Skye Warren is my go-to author for dark, sexy, richly-written erotica. Annika Warren is a new author to me and now I want to read all of her books, too! As with all of Skye’s books, the hero Grayson (yes, he is a hero to me) is darkly sexy, dangerous, forbidden and completely overpowering. He knows his power and attraction and he uses it against those weaker than him. Unfortunately it is a survival skill he learned at a very young age. Abigail meets him in prison when she is picked to teach a writing course to the inmates. But very quickly she realizes that Grayson is dangerously attractive, untrustworthy and dishonest. Or is he?

This book literally kept be turning the pages until the middle of the night. There is no right and wrong in this book, only two extremely damaged and vulnerable people who quickly become the target of a massive manhunt. Prisoner takes one thrilling turn after another, and Abigail, who fought Grayson with all her might, slowly realizes that all is not as it seems.

I loved Abigail’s bravery in the face of absolute and complete danger. At first it seems as though Grayson would just as soon kill her than f*** her. But as with all for Skye’s books (and I will assume Annika’s books as well), this intensely sexual man is struggling with his own inner demons. Grayson makes no apologies for his actions. But will he and Abby survive all of the forces intent on destroying them?

I couldn’t put this book down. The prose is perfect and the story thrilling, sexy and even tender and heartbreaking at times. It is told in alternating point-of-views which gives great insight into Grayson’s motivations. I was devastated to see this story end and I can only hope that the authors intend to write more stories including Grayson’s crew. I absolutely loved Prisoner. It is gritty, raw, sexy, very layered and nuanced. Highly recommended.

 

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Excerpt:

I’m coughing, wheezing. I had asthma as a kid, and that’s what it feels like now as the pepper spray stings me all the way down. “Get off!” I gasp. “You’re too heavy—I can’t—get air.”

“It’s the spray you hit me with,” he says. “Breathe normal.”

I gasp for air, panicking. “I can’t!” Is this how I die? Suffocation?

“Pretend,” he says, letting up his knee. He shifts so that he’s straddling my back. He grips my wrists now, pressing them above my head, and I feel his boots locked over my thighs. His weight is off my back. “It’s something every thug like me knows, how to not breathe in the fucking Mace.”

I choke and cough. I still can’t breathe. He’s going to let me die. He’s going to sit on me and watch me die.

“Relax,” he says softly. “You’re making it worse by panicking.”

Hoarsely, I try to get air. The sounds scare me. I really can’t breathe. I suck faster as the panic rises.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Shhh.” He brings his head near mine, breath tickling the back of my neck. “Pepper spray is an inflammatory agent, okay? It swells your throat and sinuses, but it doesn’t shut them.”

I gasp.

He continues to speak in his calm, strangely soothing voice. Why is he soothing me? I can feel him rattling against my defenses with every word. “You’re still getting air, okay? Focus on that, Ms. Winslow. That little passage of air you can still breathe through. Slow it down now, got it?”
I can’t slow it down. It’s like I don’t know how to breathe anymore, and I’m shaking.

And suddenly he’s stretching his big body over me, on top of me. His weight isn’t entirely on me, or else I’d be squished; it’s more of a dull weight, as though he’s holding himself against me, warming me, pressing me to the forest floor. Into my ear he whispers, “Breathe with me.”

I suck in a faint breath. “Get off me, you caveman!” Why is he even trying to help me?

“You’re okay, baby,” he says. “Match my breath.”

I feel his chest expand against my shoulder blades. He’s like a big, warm animal on me. I twist, but there’s no moving. He presses down harder, and something about his weight soothes me. I hate that he’s actually calming me, helping me. I don’t want him to make me feel good—he’s my enemy.

I wheeze lightly.

He breathes on, hot and slow against me. A bird calls in the distance. I can hear the hum of the highway, the drone of a helicopter. My eyes tear, and my limbs feel floppy and warm, and suddenly I’m doing it—I’m breathing. I take an almost regular breath.

“There you go,” he whispers.

“Fuck you. I don’t want your help.” I gasp in another breath.

His whisper caresses my cheek. “Nice and slow, Ms. Winslow.” There’s something sensual in the way he says it. “Nice and slow.”

He breathes again, as if to demonstrate. On the next breath I match him. Soon we’re breathing together. It’s strangely intimate, like we’re two wounded creatures under the forest canopy. It’s almost like dancing.

Almost like having sex.

I crane my head around just enough to see that he still has his eyes shut tight, dark eyelashes wet with tears from the irritation of the spray. Did I hurt him? Did I burn his eyes?

“Stop moving around,” he growls. “Lie still.”

Like I have any choice with him pinning me. My heart pounds under his weight.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It’s as if we’re in some kind of time-out, a no-man’s-land with the two of us fucked up and lying on the forest floor on a bed of pine needles that actually feels sort of soft and nice. The moments stretch on and on. I wonder how long it will take him to recover.

Maybe I really injured his eyes. Could I have hurt his eyes permanently?

He shifts, and I think maybe he’s getting up. But he doesn’t.

In a weird way I’m glad. If he got off me, that would end this strange, relaxing time out. It would bring back the harsh reality of who we are to each other.

For now, there’s nothing I can do with him lying on my back, and I let my limbs go soft, let my breathing calm, giving myself permission to relax. I feel like jelly suddenly, spread underneath him, spine flattened out. Us breathing together.

My eyes drift closed. The warm patch on my neck feels lit up every time he breathes out, and I imagine his lips hovering just over my skin.

I imagine him kissing me there, and a wave of forbidden feeling swells through my core.

My eyes fly open. There is no way I’m turned on.

Except I am.

My heart races. My breath gets fitful again.

“Hey,” he says. And then more softly. “You’re okay.”

I become aware of a hardness against my thigh. An erection. A melty sensation pulses through my pelvis. I’m trembling deep down, and it’s not just fear; it’s excitement.

Horrified, I try to shake him off, and he tightens his legs and arms around me. I feel his weight and warmth keenly now. “You don’t want to give me any more trouble, do you?”

“No,” I whisper huskily.

The energy of sex runs wild between us, and I don’t know how to stop it. Does he know? I flash back on him in the prison waiting room, the way he looked at me, and all that power and beauty barely contained in shackles. How stupid I was to think he was beautiful.

“No, you don’t want to give me trouble,” he affirms. “So we’re going to stay just like this until my eyes can recover.”

“So you can kill me?”

“If I was going to kill you,” he says, warm and tickly beneath my earlobe, “don’t you think you’d be dead?” There’s something about the way he says this that makes my belly quiver, and I can’t stop focusing on his erection. His big, strong heart beats against my back, beating my heart like we’re conjoined in some primitive way.

His breath feels soft on the side of my neck, and heaven help me, I want to feel more of him. I imagine his skin on my skin. Dimly I’m aware that my breath is changing, speeding, shallowing.

I stiffen as he presses his lips to the warm spot; it’s a kind of kiss. Or is it? And then he whispers, “Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Winslow.”

Oh God, he knows. This man who’s going to kill me, this man I’ve been breathing with, he knows.

 

About the Authors:

AnnikaAnnika Martin

I’m a pet wrangler, bookworm, mediocre tennis player and hairstyle failure. And yes, an author, but I promise not to spam you if you friend me!

I live just a stone’s throw from the Mississippi with my husband and two beloved cats in a home full of plants, sunshine, books and cookie crumbs. By day, I’m a freelancer in the business world. In addition to being smutty Annika, I write urban fantasy under the pen name Carolyn Crane.

Website | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

SkyeauthorpicSkye Warren

Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There’s struggle in the sex. There’s pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

 

 

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Categories : 5 Stars, Blog Tour, Dark Contemporary Romance, Reviews Tagged : 5 stars, Annika Martin, Excerpt, Prisoner, Review, Skye Warren

Cover Reveal: PRISONER by ANNIKA MARTIN and SKYE WARREN

October 3, 2014

Prisoner-SkyeWarren-AnnikaMartin 96

Title: Prisoner
Authors: Annika Martin, Skye Warren
Date of publication: October 23, 2014

 

About Prisoner:

He seethes with raw power the first time I see him—pure tattooed menace and rippling muscles in shackles. He’s dangerous. He’s wild. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

So I hide behind my prim glasses and my book like I always do, because I have secrets, too. Then he shows up in the prison writing class I volunteered to teach and he blows me away with his honesty. He tells me secrets in his stories, and it’s getting harder to hide mine. I shiver when he gets too close, with only the cuffs and the bars and the guards holding him back. At night, I can’t stop thinking about him in his cell.

But that’s the thing about an animal in a cage—you never know when he’ll bite. He might use you to escape. He might even pull you into a forest and hold a hand over your mouth, so you can’t call for the cops. He might make you come so hard, you can’t think.

And you might crave him more than your next breath.

 

About the Authors:

AnnikaAnnika Martin

I’m a pet wrangler, bookworm, mediocre tennis player and hairstyle failure. And yes, an author, but I promise not to spam you if you friend me!

I live just a stone’s throw from the Mississippi with my husband and two beloved cats in a home full of plants, sunshine, books and cookie crumbs. By day, I’m a freelancer in the business world. In addition to being smutty Annika, I write urban fantasy under the pen name Carolyn Crane.

Website | Twitter | Goodreads

 

 

SkyeauthorpicSkye Warren

Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, including power play or erotic pain and sometimes dubious consent. There’s struggle in the sex. There’s pain in the relationships. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

 

 

Logo2.png

Categories : Cover Reveal, Dark Romance Tagged : Annika Martin, Cover Reveal, Prisoner, Skye Warren

Book Blitz and Giveaway – Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

March 5, 2014

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MakeMe-Cover

Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire
Boxed Set
(The Dark Duet #1)
Publication date: March 3rd 2014
Genres: Romance

Synopsis:

Take a trip to the dark side with 12 books by some of the hottest names in edgy romance, including USA Today Bestselling authors CJ Roberts, Eliza Gayle, and Aleatha Romig!

Pam Godwin – Beneath the Burn
Skye Warren – Wanderlust
Claire Thompson – Enslaved
Cari Silverwood – Take Me Break Me
Annabel Joseph – Comfort Object
Aleatha Romig – Consequences
Shoshanna Evers – The Man Who Holds the Whip
Annika Martin – The Hostage Bargain
Jasmine Haynes – Take Your Pleasure
Eliza Gayle – Play With Me
Pepper Winters – Tears of Tess
CJ Roberts – Captive in the Dark

These e-books would cost over $40 if purchased separately. This set will only be available for a limited time, so order your copy now!

All of these books are 18+, some are new adult romance, some are erotic romance, but all feature dark themes.

Goodreads Link

Purchase:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble

Guest Post by Anabel Joseph – Bad Boys, and Why We Love Them

My name is Annabel Joseph, and I’m a bad boy addict.

I know it’s wrong. I know they’re bad for me, but I can’t quit ’em. It’s probably because my first book boyfriend was Leo Kovalensky in Rand’s We The Living. (Yeah, I grew up in a weird home. But I digress.)
I remember getting into it with some authors on a romance chat board about how heroes “should be.” Kind, protective, responsible, loving, romantic. I raised my digital hand and said, “I like heroes who are mean sometimes.”
Jaws dropped, tongues lashed, lectures ensued. “Romance heroes can’t be bad, Annabel! They have to be heroic or you’re doing it WRONG.” I backed out of that argument because I wasn’t going to convince any of them otherwise, but in my heart I knew there was a place for bad boys in romance. I knew because I’d written a bunch of them, and those books (and bad boys) were the ones my readers talked about the most.
I can’t explain the Bad Boy mystique, I just know there’s something about a man who’s not perfect, who’s rough around the edges, who doesn’t always know the right thing to do or say. There’s something about watching a bad boy dig himself deeper into trouble with the heroine, and then seeing him realize that, bad as he is, love is badder and stronger than any of his faults.
I suppose that’s the key to it all. Love always prevails.
If the hero’s perfect and love prevails, yeah, sure, it’s sweet, but what else was going to happen? He’s perfect, for God’s sake. But when a bad boy finds love…well, that’s something special. There’s extra effort, a pressing need for redemption that makes my heart ache and worry, and then swell with joy when the bad boy finds his way to his Perfect Girl, the one who understands and accepts him, flaws and all.
The hero of my book, Jeremy Gray, is a Bad Boy Extraordinaire: selfish, haughty, demanding, sexually deviant. But he’s one other thing too…a damaged, scared man who really just wants love. I hope you’ll order MAKE ME: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire to meet my bad boy Jeremy, and many other bad boys who’ll make your heart ache and swell. As well as some other parts, hopefully. Thanks for reading!

Excerpt from Annabel Joseph’s Comfort Object in MAKE ME:

I was huddled beside my things on the stairs when he found me. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t acknowledge him. He leaned down to pick up the eviction notice, holding it between his perfect fingers and scanning it with a frown.
“I’m sorry, Nell. Think of it as tough love.”
“You’re a sociopath.”
He sat down beside me, taking off his sunglasses and holding them loosely in his hand. “I’m not a sociopath, just desperate. I’m supposed to leave in four days. And I really, really want you to come with me.”
I breathed deeply, considering my next step. Punch him? Call the police? Gouge out his eyeballs? Listen to what he has to say…
“There are a million girls in L.A.” I said, hugging my knees more tightly to my chest. “A million girls who would probably jump at this opportunity. So why me?”
“Because I want you. There may be a million girls, but I want you. Kyle told me…” His voice trailed off as he thought better of it. “I heard that you were different. That you were smarter, deeper. That you were tough. That you were petite and beautiful. When I met you, I saw it was all true. I want you, not anyone else. If there’s someone better out there, I don’t know where she is and I don’t care. My mind’s made up.”
“I’m a person, Jeremy. I have a life. I have the right to self-determination.”
“I do too. If I want you, I can do whatever is in my power to attain you, within the law.”
“Within the law? You used slander and entrapment to get me fired from my job. Then you had me wrongfully evicted from my apartment. Now I’m homeless, and I can’t even… I can’t even…”
God, I needed my mom, but we hadn’t spoken in years. I was estranged from my whole family. I could call my friends, but they wouldn’t believe the story of what was going on with me, even if I could make it make sense in the retelling. And I’d signed his stupid confidentiality contract, on top of everything else. I hugged myself, feeling powerless and confused. Why was I even sitting with him? Why, even now, did some part of me want to insinuate myself into his arms?
“The thing is,” Jeremy said, “I really want to help you. I think you and I could have a lot of fun together. I think this could be mutually beneficial, this arrangement I’m proposing. The only reason you can’t see that is because you’re so angry and afraid of how I went about making it happen.”
“It’s not happening. I hate you so much, I can’t even explain how much I hate you right now.”
“It’s okay to hate me, to be afraid of me, to despise me. I don’t care. Just know that I would never do anything to hurt you, really hurt you, no matter what it seems like. Come with me, and belong to me for a while. Relax into it. Don’t think about it so much.”
“You’re a psycho,” I muttered, burying my head in my knees.
We sat there for a few moments, and then he reached over and put his hand on the back of my neck. He threaded his fingers into the wavy curls of my shoulder-length hair and started to rub my scalp and nape. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. It felt so good, so comforting. My mother used to caress me that way to soothe me when I was tired or afraid.
“Listen, what do you want more than anything else in the world?” he asked quietly, when I was reduced to putty in his hands.
I didn’t answer.
“Because you know what I want? I want you to come traveling with me these next four months. That’s all I want. A partnership with you. Simple and erotic and enjoyable and exciting and fun. That’s what I want most on earth. Now, what do you want more than anything else? Something I can do for you. Tell me.”
I shouldn’t have answered, but I did.
“I want to go to college. I want to finish my degree.”
“Finish?” he asked in surprise. “What degree have you already started? Medical school? Law school?”
“Comparative cultural mythology.”
He laughed. “I see now why you turned to waitressing and sex work.”
I pulled away from him and didn’t reply.
“Well, listen, if you stay with me for the term of the contract and work for me, then when you’re no longer in my employ, I’ll pay your way through college. Any university, any degree you want—bachelor’s, master’s, doctorate, whatever. If you can’t get into the university you want, I’ll pay your way into it. Anywhere you like. That’s in addition to the salary I’m already prepared to pay you, the salary I quoted you before. That’s what I can offer you. Maybe it sweetens the deal.”
And damn it, I guess it did.
A little-known fact about me—I attended Harvard University for two years following a stellar high school career and a perfect score on my SATs, and began what I hoped would be a lifelong career in the study and publication of papers on mythological tales and documents. But I had to leave because of my fucked-up family; a father sent to jail, a suicidal mother spiraling out of control, siblings with their heads up their asses. I did what I could, then finally washed my hands of the whole morass, but it was far too late to return to my studies, and the money was gone.
The money. Why was life about money? I’d been trying to save, but it was hard. University tuition was steep, and scholarships were hard to win when your application essay detailed your adventures as a submissive for hire. I put away what I could each month by cutting corners where I was able. I quit the gym to save money and exercised at home with workout DVDs from the public library. I stayed out of the pricier lingerie boutiques and shopped the end-of-season sales at Victoria’s Secret. I turned down dinner invitations, bowed out of barhopping with friends to put money away for the future. Still, after five years of determined saving, I barely had enough saved to cover one semester at Harvard, much less an entire degree.
But now, after a short stint of indentured servitude, I could get my life back on track. Maybe he was some twisted gift from the universe, this horrible man. He was the money, the influence I needed to move forward.
I crossed my arms over my chest, still refusing to look at him.
“I don’t know you at all,” I said. “I don’t think this is completely safe.”
“That’s what all the paperwork is for. You know how this works. If you would have looked over the papers completely, I think you would have felt better about everything. Jesus, I paid a lot of money to have them drawn up. Fortunately my lawyer is very discreet.”
“And perverted. To write up contracts like that.”
“Yes. Sure. The contract is perverse, and by no stretch of the imagination admissible in court. But it’s a job, Nell, a job that I think you’d enjoy very much. You live the lifestyle. It’s in your heart, it’s in your blood, it’s in your will. I think that’s why this is so hard for you. You want to be my submissive, but I think you’re ashamed.”
It was true. I despised myself for secretly craving the arrangement he suggested. “You hide too,” I pointed out. “You hide the way you are. From the public, from your fans.”
“Only as much as I have to. I do have a public persona to uphold. But I’m not ashamed of it. I think power exchange is beautiful. I think you are too. I think everything about you is beautiful.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Not yet. But if I get my way, I’ll know you very well.”
I rubbed my eyes. I was too tired to come up with any more protests or recriminations. Deep inside, I knew I’d already made up my mind. He knew it too.
“Finished sulking?”
“For now.” I looked over at my things, then back at Jeremy Gray sitting beside me. “But what do I do? What now?”
Jeremy pulled out his phone.
“I’m going to call someone to pick up your things, and we’re going to go to my place. We’re going to sit down with my lawyer and go over the paperwork page by page. When we’re done, I think you’ll agree to start a relationship with me, but if you decide not to, I’ll get your eviction reversed.”
“And if I do agree to this ‘relationship’?”
“We’ll go to dinner tonight and tip off the paparazzi. Our first date.” He turned away from me to bark into his phone. “Kyle, come over. She’s ready now.”

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Categories : Book Blitz, Dark Romance, Giveaway, Romance Tagged : Aleatha Romig, Annabel Joseph, Annika Martin, Cari Silverwood, CJ Roberts, Claire Thompson, Eliza Gayle, Jasmine Haynes, Make Me, Pepper Winters, Shoshanna Evers, Skye Warren

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