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text 2017-03-20 07:42
COVER REVEAL and GIVEAWAY for INFLICT by Bethany-Kris

INFLICT

by Bethany-Kris Publication Date: April 3, 2017 Genres: Adult, Erotic, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime

COVER CREDITS

Cover Designer: Popkitty Design
 
 

 SYNOPSIS:

As the son of an Irish mobster, Connor O’Neil spent his boyhood hiding from the horrors of his own home. His one reprieve was a girl he knew only as Evelyn, but even she was taken away. As a man, Connor is determined to stay away from his father’s business. With Sean, participation is not a request, but a demand. The truth is, Connor might be more like the evil he’s trying to hide away from than he would like to admit. And he’s already spent years trying to cover the scars left over from the pain. A chance encounter puts the lost girl from his past back on his path, and he no longer has a choice but to face the darkness he’s been ignoring for years. Evelyn. Sasha. Slave. She doesn’t really know who she is anymore. Or maybe she does, and she doesn’t want to tell. She isn’t the same as she once was—now a thing to be kept and maintained, shuffled from owner to owner until it was her time to go. She only became Connor’s because he took her when he knew she wasn’t his to take. Except she isn’t Connor’s at all … And he can’t keep her hidden forever. ~Inflict is a Standalone Romance with graphic depictions of violence, sexual scenes, dark elements and a HEA. It is not recommended for those under the age of 18.
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EXCERPT: 
INFLICT by Bethany-Kris
“You must think I’m stupid,” she whispered.No, he certainly did not. She was well spoken. She had a mind of her own and a questioning stare that told him there was a hell of a lot hidden beneath her exterior. He was not going to underestimate her in anything. “I don’t,” Connor said. “Then answer my question. You’re a man, so what do you want from me? They always want something; from the very start, each one has wanted something. I’ve filled a void, been used to enjoy, and even to be taught. I’ve been treated like a plaything to some, and like a sweetheart to others. What is your move?” Connor damn near choked on his next question trying to get it out, “And how many has there been?” She didn’t even think about it. “Seven, over the years.” “All Russian?” “The first one was not; he had a wife who liked me, and had three boys of her own, but no girls. He was just there to keep me, until I was passed on again. I was eleven when the wife left—I was passed on the next day.” “What then?” That spark of fire was back in her eyes. “What do you think?” “I think you’ve misunderstood my intentions,” Connor murmured. Evelyn tipped her head to the side, and her gaze dropped to his groin again. “Did I also misunderstand being in your bed, what you were doing in the shower, or the sounds you made at the end?” Cac. She had spied on him.“I have to call that friend,” Connor said, refusing to indulge her further. “You should find something to wear that covers you.” “I don’t think you mind.” don’t, but I won’t be held accountable for reacting in an unpleasant way to an arsehole move from my guest.”Evelyn’s lips curved into a sly, sensual smile. It was shocking. Beautiful, but shocking. Men may have used her for what they wanted, but he fully believed there was a part of Evelyn that was more dangerous than she let on. “That’s a new one.” Connor’s jaw clenched. “What is?”“Jealousy. I’ve never had one that was jealous before.” Perfect. Just feckin’ grand. “I’m not … one—an owner, whatever—of those,” Connor said, more irritated than before. “You will do well to figure that out and fast, Evelyn. You will do well to stop trying to figure out what game you need to play to please me; you’re not here for that.” “Then why am I here?” Honesty was the best policy … “I don’t know yet.” He finished getting dressed, and the whole time, Evelyn never left him in private. As he passed her by to make that phone call and get something to eat for breakfast, her soft voice stopped him again. “But why don’t you touch me?” she asked. “Even those who were not terrible, still wanted that from me.” Connor looked down at her, and found she was watching him, curious and unashamed. “I told you why, love. It’s not for me to take, and if you want that, then you can ask for it.” “I don’t understand, and I’m not sure what to do or how to act for you, if you want nothing from me. I’m not sure who to be here.” “That’s a sad idea, isn’t it? That you have to be something at all, and not just a person, a woman.” Her gaze dropped. “I don’t know anything different.”

 

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

 
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time. To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzDWebsite • Blog • Twitter • Facebook • Goodreads • Pinterest • Mailing List • Amazon Author Page

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text 2017-03-03 11:33
Blitz and Giveaway Tour for INFLICT by Bethany-Kris

INFLICT

by Bethany-Kris
Publication Date: April 3, 2017
Genres: Adult, Erotic, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime

BLURB:

As the son of an Irish mobster, Connor O’Neil spent his boyhood hiding from the horrors of his own home. His one reprieve was a girl he knew only as Evelyn, but even she was taken away. As a man, Connor is determined to stay away from his father’s business. With Sean, participation is not a request, but a demand. The truth is, Connor might be more like the evil he’s trying to hide away from than he would like to admit.
And he’s already spent years trying to cover the scars left over from the pain.
A chance encounter puts the lost girl from his past back on his path, and he no longer has a choice but to face the darkness he’s been ignoring for years.
Evelyn. Sasha. Slave.
She doesn’t really know who she is anymore.
Or maybe she does, and she doesn’t want to tell.
She isn’t the same as she once was—now a thing to be kept and maintained, shuffled from owner to owner until it was her time to go. She only became Connor’s because he took her when he knew she wasn’t his to take.
Except she isn’t Connor’s at all …
And he can’t keep her hidden forever.
~Inflict is a Standalone Romance with graphic depictions of violence, sexual scenes, dark elements and a HEA. It is not recommended for those under the age of 18.
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EXCERPT

“It’s art, the same thing you have all over the house, except on canvas.”
“Where it belongs,” Connor said exasperated. “Children draw on the walls, Evelyn.”
What bit of anger was in her expression melted away, leaving a deep hurt in its place. A part of Connor regretted what he’d said almost instantly, but the other part of him knew it was true.
He understood that it was the same way for Evelyn, too. A large part of her was all woman—adult, grown, and a wee bit insane. But there was still a part of her that was a wee child, stuck in a time before all the terrible things had happened to her.
“That was uncalled for,” she said.
Connor scowled. “Drawing on the walls is uncalled for.”
“You’re just parroting things back to me.”
“Because I’m the one making sense, lass!”
Evelyn’s green eyes rolled upwards. “Whatever, I’m finishing the feather, and it’s staying. It’s not like it’s fucking ugly or something.”
Connor eyed the feather, silently agreeing. It was a beautiful image, even if the majority of it was only the barebones of the drawing. Mostly blacklines forming what would be before all the color was added in. She had added some color toward the top, gentle strokes of metallic color that melted with other colors, and shimmered under the kitchen pot lights. He was sure once the light came in from the morning through the windows, the color would sparkle even more.
It was amazing.
He wouldn’t deny that.
But on his kitchen wall?
Surely they had better things to be doing and talking about other than drawing on walls?
“You can keep the feather,” Connor said heavily.
It pained him to do so.
“You didn’t have a choice.”
Feck.
“But,” he added, “no more on the walls.”
Her head turned, showing off her beautiful profile as her lips pursed. “The ceilings are okay, then. I get it.”
Connor had the strangest urge to smack himself in the face. “No.”
“We’ll see.”
“Evelyn—”
“You’re no fun,” she said rather grumpily, tossing her package of markers to the nearby table. Shooting him with another one of her glares, she headed towards the sink, grabbing a glass from the cabinet as she passed. “I thought you would like it.”
Connor didn’t know how to respond to that. “I do.”
“Then why be an ass about it?”
He chose to stay silent and think about his words as she poured a glass of water, and drank it down in her own silence. He walked forward, stopping at the kitchen island just as she set her now empty glass into the sink.
“I will buy you whatever size canvas you want,” Connor said.
“And then you’ll hang them on the walls that I could have just drawn on anyway,” she deadpanned. “Don’t you see how that’s a little ridiculous?”
“No, what’s ridiculous is you drawing on the walls.”
“Connor.”
“Evelyn.”
“It’s pretty,” she whined, waving at it.
“It is—it’s great. You should let me copy it over and tattoo it up your hip and side. It’d look grand, love. It’ll even match the wings on your back. But not on the walls.”
Evelyn frowned. “I thought you would like it.”
“I said I do.”
“Not enough.”
All right.
Now this was getting rather dumb.
Connor was all for indulging Evelyn at times, even some of her more … eccentric moods, when they came on. Which he was learning could be at any point, as she’d spent so much time being forced to do the bidding of a man. This was too far.
“Don’t go acting like a right wagon about all of this,” Connor said, turning to walk out of the kitchen and go find something else to do. “I’m not asking for something feckin’ crazy here just that you don’t draw on my goddamn walls, Evelyn.”
“What does that even mean?”
Connor, more exasperated than he was willing to admit, didn’t bother to turn around as he asked, “What?”
“Wagon. What does that even mean?”
If there was a God above, He was laughing at Connor. Laughing at his foolish arse.
The Irish had a terrible way of taking the English language and mutilating it for their own benefit, however they saw fit. Sometimes shite didn’t make sense, not that it had to outside of the person using it or the person being insulted, but none of that mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was not as simple as saying the phrase meant one thing, when in fact, it could mean a lot of things.
This happened to be one of those times, but he figured it was self-explanatory.
Evelyn had enough Irish in her to look the part, with her green eyes, pale skin, reddish-blonde curls, and freckles every which way he looked. The sad thing was, life had practically stripped her of the nuances and culture, which was a feckin’ shame.
“Means you’re being trite, grumpy, or bitchy—take your pick. Whichever one fits, Evelyn.”
Connor only heard the clang of metal in just enough time to turn around and watch something fly at his feckin’ head. Sweet Jesus, she had one hell of an aim on her. He ducked, and the frying pan practically skimmed the top of his hair before it crashed into the floor just outside of the kitchen.
It took him all of three seconds to stare at Evelyn, check behind him where the frying pan was now laying, and then back at the crazy woman standing behind the island to realize what had even just happened. As shocked as he was, he was also pissed, and amused.
All five feet, four inches of Evelyn stared him down from across the kitchen like she was daring him to say something or move an inch. He swore he saw her hand twitch, too, like she was considering reaching for another one of the hanging pans to whip at him.
No, the wee thing didn’t sound Irish at all. She didn’t understand him sometimes, and he got a chuckle out of it more often than not. She was a wee bit insane—he sort of liked that, too. But standing there like she was, pink-cheeked, huffing, and ready to whip his arse even if she had to use a frying pan to do it, she was every inch an Irish lass.
Every feckin’ inch.
It turned him on like nothing ever had.
He wasn’t even sure how to deal with that.
A smart man—a frightened man—would have turned tail, and run from the angry woman in his kitchen, knowing he’d pushed her too far and he wasn’t going to get anything good from her tonight. Connor was apparently neither of those things, and he was going to blame that on his damn heritage, too.
A stubborn bastard, of course.
“Did you just throw a pan at me?” Connor asked.
Evelyn spluttered in her anger before spitting out, “You called me a child and bitchy.”
“I said ‘pick one.’”
“And I picked one. A pan, I mean.”
“You could have killed me.”
“Probably not. I think your skull is too thick for that.”
“Now you’re just trying to piss me off,” Connor said, his jaw clenching.
“Is it working?”
“Throw another pan at me, lass, and I’ll paddle your arse until its good and red, and you’re begging to be allowed to apologize.”
That was his one warning.
He’d given it.
She could make of it what she wanted.
Evelyn’s gaze narrowed. “Is that a promise?” 
“Don’t do it again, Evelyn.”
And now his feckin’ cock was hard, so feck this whole goddamn day right to hell. Figuring his warning was enough, Connor headed out of the kitchen without a look back. A cold shower was in his very near future to get his lust under control.
He hadn’t even gotten out of the entryway before she threw the second pan.
God save me, he thought.
Connor turned back around.
Evelyn’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open with an audible pop as Connor stalked toward her. “Wait—wait, what are you doing?”
“Oh, you know damn well what I am going to do, lass.”

ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD
Website • Blog •  Twitter • Facebook • Goodreads •  Pinterest • Mailing List • Amazon Author Page

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text 2017-02-09 01:34
New Release / Release Blitz for Worth Of Waste DeLuca Duet, Part Two by Bethany-Kris DeLuca

WORTH OF WASTE: DeLuca Duet, Part Two

by Bethany-Kris DeLuca Duet #2

Publication Date: February 6, 2017

Genres: Adult, Organized Crime, Mafia Romance

 

BUY:

 
 
 

SYNOPSIS:

DeLuca Duet, Part Two The Chicago Mob is the same as it has always been—violent, greedy, and excessive. The Outfit families have turned their backs when they were needed the most one too many times, but Dino DeLuca didn’t expect anything different. His whole life has been lived for the Outfit—for his family. He has a whole new set of reasons to live and fight now. Karen Martin makes Dino change all the rules. He’s finally ready to show everyone just how much waste is truly worth in the mafia, and just how far one will go for freedom from it all. He’s learned these lessons well. Too well. Author’s Note: The DeLuca Duet is a standalone duet with a HEA ending that can be read independently. goodreads-badge-add-38px

DON'T MISS WASTE OF WORTH, PART ONE IN THE DELUCA DUET!

BUY:

 

SYNOPSIS:

DeLuca Duet, Part One Ask anyone and they will all say the same thing about just who Dino DeLuca is. A criminal, the son of a traitor, and a mafia Capo who can’t be trusted. His past has shaped his life, creating demons he can’t escape from that live in his mind day and night. He is all too aware of just how people see him. Closed off. Cold. Different. He doesn’t care—keeping people out means no one can get close enough to hurt him again, and he already has one too many monsters with their claws stuck in his back that he’s still fighting off. His walls are so high, no one is climbing over them. Or so he thinks … Karen came into his life like a spring shower, her light shining through the darkness and making him see something other than the hell that surrounded him for so long. She doesn’t know who he is or what he has done to become the man he is today. If he can help it, she’ll never know, and his monsters will never hurt her. She sees his differences as beauty. She never asks for more. She is perfect. The problem with happiness for Dino DeLuca is that his monsters don’t mind taking away what makes him happy. After all, what isn’t given cannot be kept. These lessons will be the hardest he has ever learned. AUTHOR’S NOTE: The DeLuca Duet is a two book tale following the same couple through their journey. It is a standalone Duet that can be read independently with a HEA ending.
 
 
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ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time. To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

WebsiteBlogTwitterFacebookGoodreadsPinterestMailing ListAmazon Author Page

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text 2014-06-14 16:56
The Arrangement by Bethany-Kris
The Arrangement - Bethany-Kris

DNF at 50%

 

The characters weren't consistent and the plot was thin.

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