NEW RELEASE BLITZ
a Boxed Set
by L. V. Lewis
Join L.V. Lewis, Bestselling author as she brings you her EXTRAORDINARY Alpha-Male boxed set, the JUNGLE FEVER DUOLOGY featuring FIFTY SHADES OF JUNGLE FEVER and EXIT STRATEGY her breakout hit novels in the vein of the most popular contemporary romance series counterpart: Fifty Shades of Grey, told primarily from the POV of an African American woman.
After reading for a chapter or so you'll realize, however, that Keisha Beale is no Anastasia Steele. She's sassy, irreverent, and unapologetically hilarious in her reactions to Tristan White, the venture capitalist whose sexual proclivities rock her world.
Here's your opportunity to get both FIFTY SHADES OF JUNGLE FEVER and EXIT STRATEGY in the JUNGLE FEVER DUOLOGY for the price of one! Even if you already have one of them, at this price you can have them together to complete your collection, or refer the boxed set to a friend, or two. :)
3-D Cover by Rachel at Shoutlines Designs
EXCERPT“Tell me again why you can’t stay?” Tristan says as we stand in front of the elevator. “Because it’s just not a good idea. And I don’t have anything to wear.” “Actually, you do,” he says. “Mrs. Naven found some things in the laundry after you left. Problem solved.” He takes both my hands and backs up into the sitting room. “Tristan, we still have some things to sort out. Tonight was great, but I still don’t think I’m cut out to be your submissive.” “Just my submissive?” I drop my head. “No. Anyone’s.” “You’re afraid you’ll have panic attacks again, aren’t you?” I feel like I’m about to be swallowed up by the sincere blue eyes tracking and pinning mine so effectively I can’t look away. “Yes. And I’m no use to you if I can’t endure the scenes, particularly the occasional disciplinary consequences.” “What if there was a way you could?” His finger traces a gentle path down my cheek. “What do you mean?” “Just what I said. If there was a way we could work around the panic attacks, would you come back? For good?” “You mean until you perfect your exit strategy? That’s what you venture capitalists call it, don’t you?” “Ah, someone’s been paying attention at our semiannual business meetings?” “I have a rather exacting mentor who insists on being heard.” “Asshole,” he says and pulls me close. I place my hands on his chest in an effort to sustain some emotional equilibrium, but he doesn’t let me go. “I’m the one who’ll be ass-out when you lose confidence in your investment and decide it’s time to diversify your portfolio again.” “I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, Keisha.” He draws me closer, palming my hips, and I get his point. Pun intended. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.” I slip out of his arms and put some space between us. “Chemistry has never been an issue for us, Tristan. I know your lifestyle is important to you, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up.” The truth is, I’m hopelessly in love with a man who hasn’t given me any indication that he will ever want a real relationship. Nothing has changed on that front. He still just wants just a Dominant/submissive relationship, which might enjoy a longevity his other arrangements haven’t had, but it will eventually end. Can I really do this? I certainly don’t think I’ll become any less in love with him over time. Reentering a sexual relationship with Tristan now would be exceedingly counterproductive to the reasons I left in the first place, but I am hard-pressed to make myself walk away again. Tristan moves so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his skin, his breath wafting over my ear as he speaks. “We’ll take things slow—again.” He runs a finger along my arm, and gooseflesh sprouts like ivy in its wake. I feel a pull toward him that can only be described as magnetic—my body eager to be reunited to his. Even though it could conceivably be more painful for me this time around, I’m not sure if leaving him again is within the realm of possibility. I can’t rationalize staying, but leaving becomes increasingly more difficult with each second I remain in his presence. I turn to face him. “Slow isn’t necessarily going to keep the attacks at bay.” Or guard my heart if he decides he’s done with me. “We’ll figure out a way to do that together.” He takes me into his arms again. “These three weeks have been ... just please stay.” I look into his eyes, and all I want to do at that moment is kiss him senseless. He may not have given me a declaration of love, but somehow I know this is as close as I’m going to get with a man like Tristan White. For now. As an answer, I stand on my tiptoes, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him with everything in me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L. V. Lewis is a married, mother of four who lives in South Georgia and works in the Florida Panhandle. A new author who decided stories like Fifty Shades of Grey needed a little more diversity and comedy, penned Fifty Shades of Jungle Fever as a parodied response to those wildly popular books from a woman of color. A voracious reader since kindergarten, Lewis loves nothing more than to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine. Now that Lewis has young adults who think they don't need their parents anymore, she has taken up another time-draining career of writing. Her love for writing is only eclipsed by her love for her family.
Website and blog: http://www.lvlewis.com
Author Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/LVLewis50SoJF
★★★★★ review for Circle in the Sand, an Amazon Bestseller
"Look Out, Nicholas Sparks…
If you enjoy Nicholas Sparks' works, pick up this book. Caveat, though, you'll want to take along with a handful of tissues if you tend to turn into an emotional mess by watching the lives of others and feeling the need to cheer and cry with them. This author has gone from an unknown quantity to one of my favorite authors in record time. Kudos, Lia, on a job well done. So glad to see you have other works out there - as soon as my emotions calm down from this journey you sent me on, I'll be picking up another one of your books. Keep writing!"
I’m sitting at a rickety, wrought-iron table sprinkled with white bird shit, staring across at an ex-con and seriously fantasizing about him fertilizing my frozen eggs. Yep, this is exactly how I’d pictured my future when a twelve-year-old me visited the New York Stock Exchange for the first time.
Travis and I are on the patio at Juan’s, me with a large cup of black tar, him scarfing down a taco plate. He insisted on paying. He offers me a bite. I shake my head, and he continues eating. I watch his forearms and strong hands as he moves them around his space, wondering about all the beautiful things they’ve created before this new life of his took over. I examine his dark eyes, which don’t seem to be as sad as that first day we met. But they don’t hold the eagerness I’m used to seeing in men that look at me. I’m still trying to acclimate to this flirtationship that we’ve developed. Not quite dating, but something more than friends.
About two weeks ago I’d come to San Diego to meet with my new client. On the way home, my car took control and steered me right over to Jax’s house. I told myself it was probably best to clear the air with her, talk things over, and if Travis happened to be there, well, I’d just smile and say hi. Turned out Jax was at work. Travis answered the door, hair slightly damp, barefoot, wearing jeans, and again his shirt was AWOL. The cool breeze caused a chill on my skin. His face, dusted with black stubble, made my fingertips tingle. He didn’t invite me in after my reason for visiting was voided. Did I want to leave a message for Jax? Yeah, tell her the guy sleeping on her couch is an idiot.
“I’ll call her later,” I said then lingered a moment. That’s usually all it takes, but I could see he wasn’t biting. “I was going to grab some coffee before I head back, want to join me?” The words tasted awkward in my mouth. I wondered how they sounded to him. Please, sir, may I have another? He stared at me for a second, then shook his head. I hoped my face didn’t look as red as it felt. Suddenly I was hot, but not with embarrassment. Anger flushed over me. Not only had this guy turned me into the pursuer, but he’d stuffed me into self-realization mode, and I hate that. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying being pursued!
“You seem like a nice lady…”
Lady? What was I, seventy? I attempted to prepare myself for the brush off, but I wasn’t quite sure how.
Travis grabbed the side of the door with one hand. “Let me lay this all out on the line for you. I’m on probation for driving under the influence.” I folded my arms, attempting to look unaffected even though it had shocked me.
“My car hopped a curb and ran into a nineteen-year-old sign spinner dressed as Freddy Krueger for the local Halloween store.” My mouth fell open, and I quickly closed it as he continued. “He had his back turned, didn’t even see us coming. He’s fine—only a few cuts and bruises—but he was knocked out. It could have been worse, so much worse, but does that really matter?”
Was I supposed to answer that question? I opened my mouth again, hoping something would come out on its own.
“I got credit for time served, have to do community service, got my license taken away; shall I continue?”
I cocked my head. “There’s more?”
Welcome to the Conquering Theana Season Finale Video Blitz! Lillian MacKenzie Rhine and LeTeisha Newton decided to do something a little different and create a season finale trailer for each Conquering Series book in order to catch readers up on what's happened so far in Seurri city and then get a small sneak preview of the next book (as an announcement) at the end. Come join in the fun!
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“A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
― Albert Einstein