Cover Reveal: Out Of Plans by Stylo Fantôme

We are so excited to share with you the highly anticipated sequel in The Mercenaries series...

OUT OF PLANS - releasing on December 15th. Enjoy a sneak peek into the book below!

Cover Designed by Najla Qamber

There was shouting in Thai, and Lily had to get physical with one of the girls in order to get her to leave, but eventually all three hookers were in the hall. Lily slammed the door shut and went back into the bathroom. Kingsley was sitting upright in the shower, still rubbing his hands all over his face and head.

“Is it cold in here?” he asked. She grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet.

“Yes, it's cold in here because you're in the water,” she explained, careful as she helped him get out of the tub.

“Right, right, that makes sense,” he agreed. He leaned on her and she staggered under his weight. They tumbled out of the room and fell onto his king sized bed.

“C'mon, up up up,” she urged, sitting upright. He rolled onto his back, instead.

Lily got down on the floor, working to pull off his shoes. It wasn't easy, he kept moving his legs and kicking his feet. His wet laces also put up a fight, but she eventually won the battle and threw his shoes across the room.

“Oi, thanks love, I hate those shoes!” he called to her as he struggled to sit upright.

“Well, then why did you -,”

For being stoned out of his mind, Kingsley was surprisingly quick, and he grabbed her by the back of her neck and yanked her forward. Lily was underneath him before she even knew what was happening, and then before she could react to what he'd just done, he was kissing her. Kingsley had kissed her once before, but it had been a goodbye kiss. No tongue, more of a show than anything else.

There was nothing funny about the way he was kissing her now. It was like he was ravenous, and she was a full buffet. She squealed and tried to push him off, but he didn't even notice. His hands wandered down her body, squeezing her breasts while his tongue explored her mouth.

This may have been a bad idea. Maybe I should've gone back to Ohio.

Lily smacked him in the side of the head, and when he pulled away to question her, she whacked him in the throat. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but hard enough to make him choke and gag.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing!?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

“I have the same question!” she yelled back, pushing at his chest, trying to get him off of her.

“What kind of whore are you!?”

“I'm not a whore!”

He paused. His hand was on his throat, massaging where she'd hit him, and he looked down at her. His pupils were huge, and he seemed to have trouble focusing on one point. But then his eyes found hers and he stopped. Just stared down at her.

“Lily,” he said her name in a soft voice. The hand he had against his throat fell away, lightly touching the side of her face.

“Yeah, it's me,” she said back, keeping her own voice low.

“I'm very glad you're here,” he started, “though I wish I'd known you were coming. I hate for you to see me like this.”

“Me, too. I tried to call.”

“I'm sure you did. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm terribly sorry, but I think I'm going to pass out.”

And he did just that, collapsing on top of her. She gasped underneath his weight, and it took her a couple moments to wriggle free of him.

“Great, just great,” she grumbled, looking over at him as he snored away.

What was she supposed to do with a stoned mercenary!?

Crazy woman living in an undisclosed location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since ..., forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball - I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I'm clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.

I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don't trust anyone who doesn't drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there's your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair - both a curse and a blessing - and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can't understand me.

Yeah. I think that about sums me up.

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♥ Book 1 - Best Laid Plans ♥

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New Release Spotlight: Reaper's Fall by Joanna Wylde

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

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

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

Nook: http://tinyurl.com/pljucpa

iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/pwfxzyj

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.

“You want to watch a movie or something?” she asked, nodding toward the TV. I had a decent one, too. Giant-ass flat-screen—homecoming present from the club.

“Sure,” I said, reaching for the remote. I didn’t have cable, but Ruger had set up some kind of box thingie for me so I could stream shit. “Whatcha in the mood for?”

“Not horror,” she said quickly, and I laughed again, remembering that first evening I’d spent with her at Pic’s house. She’d been so young and scared and vulnerable . . . I’d wanted to eat her up.

I still wanted to eat her.

“I can’t believe that you and Puck were supposed to be watching over me, and then you put in a slasher movie. That’s not how you make a girl feel safe.”

“No horror,” I agreed, although the thought of holding her for a couple hours while she was scared shitless appealed way more than it should. Watch it, asshole. “How about Star Wars?”

“You like Star Wars?”

I shrugged. “Everyone likes Star Wars. You know, I’m pretty damned sure Han Solo was a biker.”

She giggled. “You mean, like a space biker?”

“See, when you say it like that it sounds stupid.”

“I wanted to be Princess Leia. She’s badass,” she said, taking a deep drink of her beer. I watched as her lips wrapped around the neck, her throat swallowing. Oh fuck, that was good. She set the beer down on the coffee table with a clink, then let loose with the biggest burp I’d ever heard.

“Fucking hell,” I said, stunned. “I didn’t think girls could burp like that. Shit. Impressive, Mel. Very impressive.”

She grinned at me.

“We’re friends,” she told me. “And friends don’t need to worry about stuff like that. Let me guess—you’ve never had a female friend before?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “I’m think I’m a little scared.”

Scared and turned on, which was weird.

“You should be. I can do the whole alphabet.”

Damn. I kinda wanted to see that.

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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