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NOW LIVE:  Neighbors by Stylo Fantome

9/26/2016

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Are you ready to meet the neighbors?

Neighbors by Stylo Fantome is NOW AVAILABLE &
FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED!

Read an excerpt, enter to win & grab your copy! 


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Book Summary

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Things a good neighbor can do for you:

1. Give you a cup of sugar

2. Let you borrow his lawnmower

3. Water your plants while you're on vacation

4. Make your eyes roll back in your head with his tongue

Katya Tocci has never paid much attention to who lives next door - her career always kept her too busy. She's a good girl, working her way to becoming the most sought after cake designer in all of San Francisco.

But even a good girl's gotta cut loose once in a while, right? So one fake dating profile later, and she's ready to tarnish her squeaky clean image. Little does she know, her fun time is closer to home than she ever imagined.

Throw in a neighbor who wants to corrupt her, and another who just wants to own her, and her entire world is flipped upside down.

Who knew neighbors could be so helpful?


ONLY $0.99
​ **limited time only**


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Excerpt 

It was no joke.
Liam had been waiting in the lobby for her at nine o'clock, sharp. Liam Edenhoff – “but everyone calls me Eden” – he'd introduced himself again to her before guiding her out to a taxi he'd had waiting.
She felt a little nauseous. She'd chugged down another half bottle of wine, and some crème de menthe, before heading downstairs to meet him. She'd almost talked herself out of going, but she'd made the mistake of telling her roommate Tori about the whole fiasco. Apparently, Katya owed it to women everywhere (and Tori in particular) to explore this opportunity to its fullest. She'd all but been shoved out the apartment, the door slammed and locked in her face.

“Nervous?” Liam Eden-whatever-his-name-was asked her as the cab slowed to a crawl.
“Nope,” Katya's voice sounded overly loud.
“Liar. Tonight is gonna be an interesting night, angel cake.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What's your last name?”
“None of your business.”
“Okay then – when the gang bang starts, I'll tell them to call you Katya X.”
She couldn't stop the blush from happening that time. Liam burst out laughing, then soothed the sting by grabbing her hand.
Even when they got out of the cab, he didn't let go of her. Normally, she would've been uncomfortable with a stranger assuming such a familiarity with her, but this time, she was thankful for it. She held onto him tightly as they walked down a crowded street. Then they turned into an alley, and his gang bang joke didn't seem so funny. He led her to a plain door, above which a simple, small, neon sign spelled out “The Garden”. Outside were several small groups of people, chatting and smoking. Some of them called out greetings to him, all of them using his nickname, but a large and scary looking bouncer addressed him very properly.
“Hey, Mr. Edenhoff, wasn't expecting you in tonight. Any problems?”
“Nope, just bringing a friend to show her the place, let her see what I do for a living.”
All the blood was quickly rushing from Katya's limbs, pooling somewhere in her stomach. None of this was a joke. He really did own the place, that much was obvious.
As Liam led her through the door, though, Katya actually felt a surge of confidence. She was still nervous, still more than a little scared, but she was okay with it. Liam seemed like a nice guy, he wasn't going to take her into some dark room and insert foreign objects into her orifices. She could leave whenever she wanted to, whenever it got too uncomfortable. Everything was fine, and for once, she was doing something exciting. She'd een have something interesting to talk about at work the next day.
Finally.

Teasers 
(click on image for full view)

Meet Stylo Fantome

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Crazy woman from a remote 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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Sneak Peek + Signed Giveaway: The Bad Ones by Stylo Fantôme

4/1/2016

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​We're thrilled to share a heart-pounding sneak peek of soon to be released dark erotic stand-alone, The Bad Ones, by Stylo Fantôme, releasing on April 12th.

We had the pleasure of reading an advance copy and couldn't get enough of Con & Dulcie. They're deviants, their chemical make-up unhinged, & I was disturbingly held captive by every manic thought and action. Unpredictable. Gripping. A total mind-twist.

​All my depraved romance addicts like myself needs to make their calendars and add this one to their reading list ASAP.  Read the wicked excerpt & go HERE to WIN a SIGNED paperback!

Check out these other blogs for each day of excerpts:
3/28 Schmexy Girl Book Blog – http://www.schmexygirlbookblog.com/
3/29 - Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads - http://shaynareneesspicyreads.com/
3/30 – Natasha is a Book Junkie – http://natashaisabookjunkie.com/
3/31 - Angie and Jessica’s Dreamy Reads - 
http://www.angieandjessicasdreamyreads.com


Must Read Sneak Peek

Con had figured out where they were going long before the country club came into view.
Dulcie bypassed the parking lot and went around the main building, parking in a tiny lot next 
to a maintenance house. They got out of the car and she headed towards a back door.
“It looks closed up,” he commented, looking through a large window into the restaurant 
she worked at while she fumbled around with her keys.
“It is,” she informed him, then yanked open the door. She grabbed him by his jacket and 
pulled him inside before locking the door behind them. When Con had been there the night 
before, it had been busy, full of loud people with wait staff rushing around. Now it looked so 
much bigger, devoid of all the hustle and bustle.
Dulcie flicked on the lights by the bar, illuminating a wall of liquor and some paneling. She 
left everything else off. The entire restaurant was done with dark oak and large rugs, giving 
the room an eerie, shadowy feel.
“How long have you been working here?” he asked, sliding his jacket off and heading 
towards her. She shrugged and moved so the bar was between them.
“A little over two years. I moved up pretty quickly, they made me a shift manager.”
“Wow, impressive.”
“Youngest one ever.”
“You like it?” he was curious. She laughed again, and the sound echoed in the vast room.
“Do I like it? What kind of question is that? It's a fucking restaurant at a fucking country 
club, Constantine. What do you think? Of course I don't like it. But I like to eat and I like 
having my own apartment, and not all of us were born with rich daddies,” her voice grew 
snide by the end of her speech. She grabbed a bottle off the wall and slammed it down on the 
counter. Johnnie Walker Red stared back at him.
“From what I've heard, you don't even know who your daddy is,” he dished her own shit 
right back to her, then he slid onto a bar stool.
“Touché.” She twirled the cap off the bottle before pouring a healthy amount into a glass. 
“I don't. He could be loaded, for all I know. Doesn't really help me.”
“And you think my father's money helps me?”
She didn't answer. He watched as she hoisted herself onto the bar top. She moved 
around till she was sitting next to him, her legs dangling over the side. Then she poured the 
scotch into a glass for herself and clinked it against the side of his.
“Cheers,” she whispered, then took a sip. Con did the same, though he drank everything 
she'd poured for him. “And yes, I do. Daddy's money helped you run away. Daddy's money 
helps you forget.”
He choked on the fiery liquid for a second.
“Forget what!?” he snapped. She smiled and reached out her hand, wiping some scotch 
off his chin.
“The person you really are,” she called him out.
“Oh, and like you're so good at remembering. Running around this place with your 
manager title, acting so prim and proper. Acting like you didn't come from a fucking trailer. If I 
was trying to forget, then what the fuck have you been doing?” he threw right back at her.
“Is that a joke? No, Constantine, I haven't forgotten. It's not possible for me to forget. And 
you know what? I don't want to,” she hissed at him.
He got out of his seat then and moved so he was standing in front of her. She didn't move 
at all, just stared at him with hooded eyes, so he gripped her knees and forced her legs apart. 
She didn't resist, like he knew she wouldn't, and he moved into the V of her thighs.
“Were you scared?” he asked. She nodded and downed the rest of her drink.
“Yes.”
“Aw, poor little Dulcie. Still afraid of herself.”
“No,” she shook her head, then lobbed the glass over his shoulder. It hit a wall and he 
could hear it shatter.
“No?”
“I was scared because … because I began to think I'd be the only person who'd know,” 
her voice dropped into a whisper again. “That I'd be the only one who'd know what I was 
capable of. That it was the last time I'd ever get to feel like myself. That while I was staring it 
in the face every single day, you were running away from it. That you weren't strong enough 
to handle it, and I was. That thought scared me.”
“I had to … work shit out. I told you, it's only us, kid. Only us. I didn't give it a time frame,” 
he reminded her. She rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest.
“Awfully convenient for you. So what's the plan, Con? Gonna fuck me and then leave me? 
I'm not going anywhere. Works out awfully well for you,” she pointed out, hopping off the bar 
and pushing past him.
“I hadn't planned much beyond the sex,” he was honest.
“So confident! I admire that,” she laughed, then raked her fingers through her hair.
“So who's the bartender? Boyfriend?” he asked.
She turned her head to the side and stared at him, and for just a moment, for the first time 
ever, Con felt a sliver of fear. He'd watched them the night before, seen how her coworker had 
been looking at her, how he'd found excuses to touch her. Con had wanted to bury his steak 
knife in the guy's forehead.
He'd never once lied to her – they were special. She was special to him. She was his 
whole reason for doing the things he did, anymore. He'd stayed away because she brought 
out the darkness in him. He'd needed to learn some self-control. If he'd stayed home, or if 
he'd brought Dulcie with him, he would've spun out of control. Patience disappeared when 
she was around, and they couldn't afford that, not with the kind of people they were. He'd just 
needed some time.
“No. He's nobody. He thinks I'm cute,” she finally answered.
“Ah. You are adorable,” he teased, and was rewarded with an eye roll. “And what do you 
think of him?”
“I don't.”
“Any other prince charmings come along while I was gone?” he kept questioning.
“Jesus, Con, just ask what you want to ask. Have I dated anyone? No. Have I fucked 
anyone? Yes,” she snapped.
“You used to be so meek and quiet. What happened to that girl?”
“You.”
He'd been walking forward the whole time, and he stopped when he was looming over 
her. She didn't back down at all, just glared up at him.
“So you're saying you didn't date them – just a lot of casual sex?” he wanted to make sure 
what was happening wasn't one-sided. That he wasn't wasting his time.
“Are we going to talk about my sex life all night? You want details? How many times, how 
many men? How many positions? How about the one time the guy asked me to wear a 
school girl uniform – which he'd brought with him. I still have the pictures, want to see? Or 
how about the other time, when the guy asked me to blow him while he was on the phone 
with his wife. He wanted to see if he could come before she hung up, so I -”
Enough.
Con snapped his hand out and grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks so 
hard, he could feel her molars through her skin. She let out a shriek, obviously surprised, then 
she began hitting him. It was ineffectual; he was so much bigger than her. He could do 
anything he wanted to her, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
“I didn't ask for a blow-by-blow of your daily life,” he growled, shoving her backwards and 
forcing her against a table.
“Really? Could've fooled me!” she yelled, her voice muffled behind the palm of his hand.
“I don't care how many people you've slept with, Dulcie,” he breathed out her name as he 
yanked her up onto her toes. “It's still my property they're fucking.”
“Oh, get fucked, Constantine. I don't belong to you anymore than any of the other guys 
I've slept with,” she hissed.
Now that was simply going too far. He slammed her down onto the table top, sending 
dishes and cutlery and wedding decorations to the floor. She shrieked and raked her nails 
down the side of his face, so he pinned her wrist to the table above her head. With his other 
hand, he let go of her mouth and clamped his fingers around her throat.
“Is that so? Then why are you so worked up,” he whispered, rubbing his nose along the 
side of her neck, breathing her in. She squirmed underneath him.
“Because you're touching me,” she answered honestly.
“I've done more than just touch you, Dulcie.”
“Yeah, and then you left.”
“So bitter. It's heartwarming, really, to know you cared so much,” he teased her.
She'd pushed his buttons earlier, and apparently he'd just pushed one of hers. She went 
wild under him, hitting and shoving at his body. Struggling to push him off.
“Is that a fucking joke? Real fucking funny, Con,” she was yelling while she slapped at his 
arms and wrists and shoulders. He ducked his head and rode out the blows while he moved 
his hands over her body. “After everything we did, after everything we said! Not a fucking 
word ...” she was still shouting, still hitting him, but did nothing when he unbuttoned the front 
of her shorts and began yanking the material down her legs. “... god, I hope someone kills 
you. I hope someone kills you, and I hope I'm there. I won't even fucking care.”
Last time we barely got to taste each other. This time, I'm going to swallow her whole.
He gripped the tops of her thighs and yanked hard, dragging her across the table and into 
him. He grabbed a fistful of her shirt and jerked her forward, forcing her back to lift so her face 
was right in front of his own.
“As long as you promise it's you who does it, I'm fine with that,” he growled.
“Such a sick fuck, Con. You're such a sick and twisted fuck,” she swore, smacking him 
upside the head. He gritted his teeth and managed to undo his own pants with one hand, 
shoving them down in a hurry.
“Only for you, babe.”
She finally kissed him. Jesus, took her long enough. He'd been dreaming about those 
lips, those sharp teeth, for so long. While she filled his mouth with her tongue, he ripped her 
underwear off her body.
“You were gone for so long,” she whispered, rubbing her hands down his chest. “Gone for 
so long. I began to think you'd never come back.”
“You should've trusted me,” he whispered back.
“I should've. I missed you. I missed you so much. I would pretend everyone was you.”
“Good.”
“I used to walk down on the tracks and I'd think about you. Wished you were there with 
me,” she kept going.
“We'll go together.”
He abruptly shoved her and she fell back onto the table. It broke the hold she had on him 
and he was able to lay down on top of her. Their kisses were brutal, full of teeth and biting. 
Their fingers were mean, scratching over soft flesh and leaving marks. He held her down, 
wanted to push her through the table. She kept talking, kept reminding him of how awful he 
was, and he put his hand over her mouth. Not because he didn't want to hear it, but because 
it was turning him on.
He was holding both her wrists down with one hand, and with his other hand, he was 
making her just as desperate as he was; possibly more so, if her movements were anything to 
judge by. She was making a high pitched whining sound. Keening, and it reminded him of the 
sound an animal made when it was being hunted. When it was close to death.
Sounds good to me.

Teasers
Click on the pictures for full view


 The Bad Ones
Dark Erotic Stand-alone
Release Date: April 12th

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Love isn't always bright and shiny.

Sometimes, it's dirty and wrong, buried six feet deep in a secret place where only wild things dare to go. Hidden behind a big black curtain that covers things no one should ever see.

Sometimes it happens between two people who should never be allowed to come together. One who is a match, and the other who just happens to be gasoline.

One strike is all it takes to burn the whole world down, and that's exactly what they plan on doing.

Even if it kills them.

warning: this book contains graphic sex, extremely brutal violence, bad language, and people repeatedly and knowingly breaking the law. 

Add to Goodreads

Giveaway: Go HERE to Win a SIGNED Paperback!


Meet Stylo Fantôme

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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Chapter Reveal & ARC + $10 Giveaway: Out of Plans by Stylo Fantôme

12/7/2015

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We're thrilled to participate in a multi-blog chapter reveal for the highly anticipated release of Out of Plans by one of our favorite authors, Stylo Fantôme, scheduled for release on December 15th. Out of Plans is Book 2 of The Mercenaries series and the final conclusion and thrilling sequel to Best Laid Plans.  

We had the pleasure of reading an early copy and will say this... only Stylo is capable of making is lust over a Colombian drug lord and after finishing the books we needed a strong drink and a heavy supply of Xanax. ;) A must read for those adrenaline junkies, thrill seekers, and avid action-adventure booknerds because Stylo is one badass and fearless storyteller.


In addition to the Chapter Reveal, we're giving a lucky reader a chance to win an advance copy of Out of Plans and a $10 Gift Card! Enjoy the killer teasers, happy reading, and good luck!

12/7 The Rock Stars of Romance { us! :) }
12/8 Angie and Jessica’s Dreamy Reads
12/9 Shh Moms Reading
12/10 Schmexy Girl Book Blog
12/11 Natasha is a Book Junkie


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Out of Plans Chapter Reveal

DAY ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-FIVE 
Marcelle De Sant.
He'd never thought much about his name. His father was of Spanish decent. His mother, English and Irish. Nothing terribly exciting. He wasn't sure where “Marcelle” had come from – no relatives shared the name. He'd always figured his mother just liked romantic sounding names. He went by “Marc” most of the time, anyway, so it wasn't like it really mattered.
In his later years, it became its own brand. He'd considered concealing it for a while. Marcelle De Sant the mercenary, jesus, it sounded like something out of a movie. His reputation quickly grew enough to precede him, though, so it wasn't like he could change it.
Sometimes he would remember the way Lily said his name. She'd mostly called him Marc, like most people, but sometimes she had used his full name. When she was teasing or flirting, or when she was being bratty or mocking. She would stretch it out, place the emphasis on the second syllable, mar-CELLE, and linger over the L's, her tongue between her teeth. If he concentrated hard enough, he would swear he could actually hear her whispering it in his ear.
“Marcelle!”
Though it was hard to concentrate on anything at all when the goddamn devil was shrieking at him.
“This is really embarrassing,” he sighed, letting his head drop back on his shoulders.
“What's embarrassing, dear?” the blonde woman cooed, leaning into his line of sight.
“Being caught by someone like you.”
Roksana Stankovski was harmless to look at – a slip of a woman, short and petite. She had long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and only wore white. Marc hadn't been able to figure it out at first, why all the white. But later on it became apparent to him.
Mrs. Stankovski liked blood, and she liked taking it by force. It would splash against her creamy leather jackets and her pristine satin shirts, so vivid against the stark white background she would provide.
He felt so stupid. Getting caught, like an amateur. He'd gotten sloppy since Africa. He didn't sleep right, he was always moving, always hunting, and his brain was always there. In the sand and heat. Driving those highways and roads. With her sitting right next to him.

Visit Angie and Jessica’s Dreamy Reads tomorrow for the next part of the chapter.

Teasers
Click on Pictures for Full View


Out of Plans, The Mercenaries Book #2
Releases 12/15

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Out of Plans on Goodreads

Best Laid Plans, The Mercenaries Book #1
Live Now

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THE PLAN:

* Smuggle diamonds from Liberia to Morocco
* Make the trip in three days
* Don't get caught
* Don't kill each other
* Don't have sex with each other
* Don't fall for each other
* Stick to the plan

This is the story of what happens when an unlikely bond is formed between enemies, causing tensions to rise, and igniting a chemistry that threatens to burn them both. Together, they'll learn that sometimes even the best laid plans
 can fail.

Buy Best Laid Plans

Author Bio: Meet the Fabulous Stylo Fantôme

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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.

​
Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page | Instagram


Giveaway: Win an ARC of Out of Plans + $10 Gift Card

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