Tag Archives: amber morgan

Mr Red by Amber Morgan (@AmberMothling)

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Hello! Thank you for having me today and allowing me to introduce Mr. Red to you all 🙂

You know, I’m sure I say the same thing about every book – that I had loads of fun writing it – but I really did have loads of fun writing this story. I started it because I needed a distraction from another project that wasn’t going very well, and before I knew it, Mr. Red and Ally had taken over my life. The story just came pouring out, and ended up being double the length I anticipated. I really just didn’t want to stop writing! Hopefully the fun I had is reflected in the story. Enjoy!

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Mr RedBlurb

When Ally Mosconi’s father trades her in to his mysterious Mafia boss to pay a debt, Ally knows her life has changed forever. The man she calls Mr. Red is domineering, demanding, and utterly ruthless. She knows she needs to break free – but with her father’s life in the balance, what can she do to challenge Mr. Red’s control? And as she falls deeper under his spell, she begins to question exactly how much she wants to escape.

Buy Links

Evernight – http://tinyurl.com/zxqokc7

All Romance Ebooks – http://tinyurl.com/z8jg7zl

Amazon US – http://tinyurl.com/goqm62b

Amazon UK – http://tinyurl.com/jzgvls6

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Excerpt

“Sing me something,” he said. Ordered, really.

Ally floundered, caught off-guard. “Now? No. I can’t. I haven’t…”

“I don’t expect a flawless performance. I just want to hear you sing.” A hint of impatience entered his voice. “In case you had forgotten, we are negotiating. Consider this the first step.” He clicked his fingers at her, the way customers did in the restaurant. It was rude and domineering, and it always made her mad.

And just like she did when it happened at work, Ally fought the anger. As a waitress, she couldn’t lose her temper with the customers no matter how rude they were. As Mr Red’s prisoner, she had to be even more careful, and she already knew he disliked her talking back. While she might forget that when there seemed to be nothing at stake, if he was being honest with her now, there might be something to gain by co-operating. So she swallowed her annoyance with a huge effort.

She stood, nerves jangling. Jesus, what he if thought she was shit? What if she was shit? She hadn’t sang outside of the shower for a long time. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to settle the butterflies, and then she closed her eyes and started singing.

She wasn’t sure what was going to come out of her mouth until she started, and she was morbidly amused to realize she was singing Wait from Sweenie Todd. She was pretty sure Mr Red had been expecting something more classical, more…operatic, but she didn’t dare open her eyes to gauge his reaction. She’d sung the song dozens of times, having played Mrs Lovett in a high school production, and she was confident her voice wasn’t going to crack on any difficult notes.

She was on the first chorus when she heard his chair scrape back as if he was rising from the table. Inexplicably panicked, she flubbed a line and opened her eyes to see him stalking towards her.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

The sight of him approaching, full of quiet menace, was too much for her shaking nerves. She closed her eyes again and carried on. She sensed him move behind her, caught a whiff of his seductive cologne, and her voice faltered again. When he rested his hands on her hips, she had to stop. He was too close, too overwhelming.

“Don’t stop,” he said again, voice hard.

“I can’t concentrate when you touch me,” she said, then bit her lip, realizing too late how it sounded.

He laughed, low and dirty, and slid his hands up her sides to skim just under her breasts. “You have a good voice. I know an excellent vocal coach.”

She tried not to think about the warmth of his hands, the pressure of his fingers. Her back was to his chest, and she felt trapped…but not unpleasantly so. She tried not to think about that either. “There’s no point. The best vocal coach in the world can’t give me a relevant musical degree or the years of experience I’ve missed.”

“Hmm.” He ran his fingertips up over her breasts, the light touch drawing a hiss from her. He toyed with the top button of the dress, popping it open. “Wouldn’t it be worth doing just for the pleasure of it?” he asked.

Heat pooled in her belly, and she had to parse his words twice to be sure it wasn’t some innuendo. “I…suppose.”

“After all, it would be a trip out of the apartment a couple of times a week,” he continued. “With a bodyguard, of course.”

Galvanized by those words, Ally pulled free and whipped round to face him. “What?” Hope and suspicion warred in her. “You’d let me go out? For singing lessons?” Where was the catch?

“Maybe,” Mr Red said. His gaze was focused on her chest, on the small glimpse of cleavage showing where he’d unbuttoned the dress. “If you gave me something in return.” He opened the next button.

*****

Author Bio and Links

Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man, one adorable cat, and one sulky snake.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmberMorganWrites

Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberMothling

Blog – http://ambermorganwrites.weebly.com/

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Wolf’s Hunt by Amber Morgan (@AmberMothling)

 

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Thanks for having me today! I’m so excited to be bringing you all the second book in my Wild Blood MC series – Wolf’s Hunt. One of the best parts about this book for me was the New Orleans setting. It’s a place I’ve always wanted to visit, and I feel like I got to take a vicarious vacation through Wolf and Clea. Hopefully I’ve managed to do the city some justice! Maybe one day I’ll make it there myself…in the meantime, Wolf’s Hunt is the closet I’ll get…

*****

Wolf's HuntBlurb

~Editor’s Pick~

He’s trying to make things right.

Three years ago Wolf fled New Orleans, leaving heartache and violence in his wake. Now he’s got one chance to win back the woman he left behind, Clea Allary. There’s just one thing standing in his way—the deadly President of the Voodoo Kin MC, a man who will stop at nothing to finish Wolf and claim Clea for himself. Whether she likes it or not.

She’s trying to survive

Clea’s been staying one step ahead of the Voodoo Kin ever since Wolf broke her heart and disappeared. But it’s getting harder to cope and there’s no way out that she can see. When Wolf crashes back into her life, he offers her a dangerously tempting escape route. But how can she ever trust him again?

Buy Links

Evernight – http://tinyurl.com/jmntlop

Amazon US – http://tinyurl.com/zv5azpo

Amazon UK – http://tinyurl.com/jqmwamx

All Romance Ebooks – http://tinyurl.com/h8hhcq2

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Author Bio and Links

Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man and an adorable cat.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmberMorganWrites

Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberMothling

Blog – http://ambermorganwrites.weebly.com/

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Excerpt

He didn’t wait for her to change her mind. Lust and longing surged through him and he stood, pulling her up into his arms. She fell against him with a cry that ignited Wolf’s fiercest feelings. He didn’t just want to kiss her. He wanted her. Wanted to claim her, wanted to make it plain to everyone and anyone that Clea Allary was his, still, now, and always.

He took her mouth roughly, running his hands down her back to cup her ass and pull her in hard against him. She clutched at his t-shirt, grabbing handfuls of it as if it was the only thing holding her up, and she whimpered his name against his lips. It drove him wild. That little sound was like a jolt of adrenaline, and it traveled directly to his cock, hardening him almost to the point of pain.

Their kiss was hard, desperate, almost a battle of wills, as if Clea was eager to stamp her ownership on him too. She shoved her hands under his t-shirt, raked her nails down his back. Wolf hivered in pleasure and squeezed her ass in answer. She writhed against him, nibbling at his lips. The feel of her hands on his bare skin was too much for Wolf. He tried to push his hands down the back of her jeans, but they were skin-tight and he broke away from the kiss with a curse. Clea laughed at him.

“Giving up already?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement and desire.

Wolf brushed her hair back from her face, drinking in that look. His heart swelled and his entire body ached with need for her. He’d never thought he’d get that look from her again. “Never again. Not when it comes to you.” He reinforced his words with another kiss, then gave her a gentle push, forcing her to sit back down on the bed.

Once again he knelt before her, hands gliding up and down her thighs as he studied her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips invitingly swollen from his kisses. Her breasts heaved under the t-shirt he’d given as she caught her breath. He didn’t plan to let her recover so soon, but he wanted to be sure before he did anything else that she knew there was no turning back now.

“Tell me you want this,” he said. “I can’t walk out of here, do what I have to do, without taking a piece of you with me.”

She licked her lips, a nervous gesture, and he wondered if she’d still do it if she knew it made him want to jump on her. For a second he thought she’d turn him away – and he would have gone, but damn, it would have been agony to do it. Then she smiled coyly and asked, “Which piece?”

Waking the Lioness by Amber Morgan (@AmberMothling)

Waking the LionessI’m a werewolf girl first and foremost, but my second-favourite shifter is definitely the werecat. Although the term “werecat” only really came about in the 1970s, there’s been myths and legends about humans turning into cats forever. In European folklore there are stories of witches turning into domestic cats. In Africa, leopard gods and goddesses would take human form and mate with mortals, and their offspring would be shapeshifters (hmm, now there’s a story idea…). In Asia, the ghosts of people killed by tigers could become evil beings called Chang, who made sure that tigers killed even more people!

And in America, where WAKING THE LIONESS is set, we have were-jaguars. In Mesoamerican cultures, priests and shamans would wear jaguar skins to become jaguars themselves. There are also stories of bipedal felines – kind of like Bigfoot, but, you know, cats. There doesn’t seem to be much about shapeshifting mountain lions, but that’s the beauty of being a writer – I can make it up! I’m hoping that WAKING THE LIONESS will be the first in a series of werecat stories, because there’s just so much to explore! In the mean time, I’m looking forward to you meeting, Lara, Zane, and Tate, and getting to know my werecats very, very intimately.

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Blurb

Convinced she could never give her fiance what he truly wanted, cat-shifter Lara Carey walked away from her home and her engagement, and started fresh in New Orleans. One year on, she’s never stopped missing Zane Walker…but it’s too late to do anything about it, isn’t it?

Zane Walker hasn’t come to New Orleans to find Lara, but when chance throws them together, his passion for her is reignited. There’s just one problem. Zane’s new lover is missing somewhere in New Orleans, and even if Zane and Lara find him, can Lara accept him and Zane?

Buy Links
Evernight Publishing
All Romance eBooks
Amazon US
Amazon UK

*****

Author Bio and Links

Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man and two stupid snakes.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmberMorganWrites
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberMothling
Blog – http://ambermorganwrites.weebly.com/

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Excerpt

She smiled, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “Is Tate the jealous type?” she asked, flexing her fingers. Zane let out a long sigh.

“Lara, this isn’t—”

She moved in front of him, sliding her hand down his torso until she cupped his balls. Another ragged sigh. Lara licked her lips and kissed his throat, nipping lightly. The smell of male arousal mingled with her own musk. She kept her eyes on Tate as she teased Zane, raking her nails over his balls and rubbing her thumb across that soft, sensitive stretch of flesh beneath, just the way he loved. If Tate was the jealous type, she could be making a major mistake here, one she’d never recover from.

But Tate didn’t look angry or jealous as the dull glaze faded from his eyes. He looked…curious.

Zane groaned as she encircled his hardening cock. He pulled her hard against him, crushing her breasts to him with just the right balance of pleasure-pain. She whimpered as he dug his fingers into her hips, silently urging her on.

She worked her hand slowly up and down his shaft, her other hand making lazy trails up and down his chest. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone. The slightest contact burned like wildfire, and this was Zane, the only man she’d ever loved. Breathless with desire, wound tight with need, it was impossible to pretend she did this only to force Tate into a shift. She was doing this all for her own selfish pleasure and she wasn’t going to stop. And if Zane’s reaction to her touch was anything to go by, he didn’t want her to.

On the bed, Tate raised his head and chirped at Zane. Zane raised his head, a little growl escaping his lips. “You know the rules. You want in, you shift,” he said in a voice thick and throaty with desire.

The words caught Lara off-guard. They implied so much with so little. So much history, past threesomes maybe. Her heart skipped. Did Zane think… Would she even…?

Her stomach filled with butterflies as she realized she would. Dammit, she was so starved for skin contact, so – yes, still so in love with Zane, that she would. She’d take both men. Excitement raced through her. She’d take them both and savor the thrill of it.

Tate shook his head and pushed himself up, his wounded back leg clearly hampering him. Lara’s hand faltered for a second, worried he’d hurt himself worse, but then Zane’s hand closed over hers. “Finish what you started,” he growled.

Guest Blogger: Amber Morgan (@AmberMothling)

Through Her EyesBetween submitting THROUGH HER EYES for publication and completing the final edits, I found myself reading a lot of true crime books. Lots of stuff on criminal profiling, unsolved cases, and serial killers. It was coincidence, but it was also great timing when the edits came in! I didn’t want to make the story procedural-heavy, but as the hero, Dom, is a police detective, I think I was able to make him a little more real by working in some of the facts I’d picked up. I was also able to flesh out the villain of the story by adding in little behavioural cues based on real-life serial killers. I didn’t want to shoehorn anything in, like “look at me, I read some stuff!!!”, but hopefully the extras I did squeeze in help to build the tension and chills in the story!

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Excerpt:

Cold hands seized her, wrapping round her throat in an iron grip. The scream that spiraled up in her lungs was crushed from her. He shoved her hard against the wall, face first. If there’d been any air left in her that would have knocked it out. The brickwork scraped her cheek and the stinging pain brought tears to her eyes.

She felt him push against her, his body hard and unrelenting. Through the flimsy material of her skirt, she felt his cock strain against her ass cheeks. Horror turned her stomach and she tried to struggle, kick, anything that might free her. It was impossible. He was strong and unyielding. He put his lips to her ear and whispered, “They all try to fight. They all fail.”

His words were like an icy lance through her heart. She whimpered, the only sound she could make while his fingers squeezed at her throat. Her vision was blurring, growing steadily darker as her heart fluttered uselessly against her ribs. He was going to hurt her and she couldn’t stop it. It would be a mercy to lose consciousness.

And then she felt the blade against her cheek.

His voice was rough with dark pleasure. “Say goodnight, sweetheart.”

*****

Blurb

Six years ago, Keira nearly died at the hands of a serial killer. The experience left her with more than just physical scars. She was psychically linked to the killer, a helpless witness to all his crimes. Now the man known as the Shoreditch Slasher has killed again, and Keira is dragged right back into his path. Detective Dom Abbott believes Keira’s link to the killer will help the police finally catch him, even if it means putting the woman he loves in danger. With Dom to protect her, Keira is willing to risk almost anything…But where will her strange gift lead her?

Buy links: Amazon UK | Amazon US | Evernight Publishing

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Author Bio and Links

Amber is the secret identity of a writer who normally pens urban fantasy, but feels like stretching her wings. Amber loves darker romance, anti-heroes, good red wine, and expensive chocolate (sometimes all at once). She’s based in the UK and lives in an adorable cottage with her dream man and a demanding cat.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AmberMorganWrites
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberMothling
Blog – http://ambermorganwrites.weebly.com/