“I did not come here to date you, or fall in love with you, or have any part in your life. I came here to pull the grace from your being and send you back to your life…”
Addy's boss has been murdered. She's next. She's been folded into something that supernatural forces want, and it looks like she'll have no choice in the matter.
Tab's been through hell to make sure this sort of thing doesn't happen - literally. The red-winged Angel of Free Will cares vehemently about individual agency in human destiny. How much he cares about Addy herself may be another thing entirely, but at any rate, she has a better chance with him than with the rest of the Angelic family, Fallen or otherwise.
In a run for her life and a race in which the involvement of the Devil himself is considered among the least of their worries, Addy must find enough moments of calm to unfold the Angel's Grace inside, her, learn from the visions it provides, and find the keys to Heaven and Hell.
Y’know it’s funny, Tab expecting me to choose my own destiny
and all. I guess it was fine, all well and good when choosing my own destiny
aligned with what he wanted, but if
Michael were telling the truth—which why wouldn’t he be?—then Tab would just as
easily and readily kill me as either the Angels or Demons in this power
struggle of theirs. So you know what? Fuck it. It didn’t really matter anymore
did it? No matter what I did at this point I was a dead woman walking. Piorre
trusted me with this, of that much I was certain, but maybe he shouldn’t have.
Not saying that I was untrustworthy, just saying that right then, at that
point, I just didn’t think I could do it. I just wasn’t strong enough. I pretty
much figured that the best I could do at this point was try to figure out this
Grace shit, get the location of these keys, and go from there on who I would
hand them to...
When O’Mara is assigned to report on a new sexual service in the City of Dark Pleasures -- one that has been the subject of much gossip -- she’s not sure what to expect. What she finds there only reminds her of all that has been lost in The Expiation. She meets Tully -- handsome, attentive, mysterious and unlike any “servant” O’Mara has met in the Pleasures. His extraordinary service is about to allow her to experience a level of intimacy she has only ever imagined.
You can watch the trailer for The Obsidian Stairway here.
Tully: Sex is what we sell in the City of Dark Pleasures. To work here you need to sequester your emotions, your humanity, your soul if there’s such a thing. If you don’t you’re in danger of losing it all together, permanently. For someone like me, my damaged soul is all I have left. I try to slip it off like a coat when I work, and most of the time I can. Most of the time no feelings at all come into what I do. But there are times I weaken, times when patrons get to me either for good or ill. Mostly ill. Once a woman I met got inside me like no one has. It wasn’t love, but it was as close as I will ever be. O’Mara was her name. O’Mara Tanner. Every morning I read her byline on the Island News Service. She writes about fluff—places to shop, entertainments to see. She wrote about me once. It was all lies, but I don’t hold that against her. Our civilization is built on lies. The brief time we spent together was all lies. Sometimes I think I would give up everything just to have O’Mara Tanner lie to me again.
O’Mara: It’s only at night that I’m scared of him. During the day I think about his golden eyes, his warm skin and his velvety voice to the point of distraction. I could lose my job if I don’t get my shit together. A lost job means a lost income. If I can’t pay my rent I could lose my citizen status. And then what? Then I join him, working in the Pleasures? I could go and see him. I should go and see him. I can find the money somewhere and go and get him to hook me up to that infernal machine of his and lose myself in his beautiful dreamscape. The one in which we are lovers. If I can just spend another moment in that forlorn and hopeless dream I might be able to get him out of my system.
As it is I’ve been masturbating until my fingers ache, and the skin of my clitoris is burning and raw. Whenever I climax I hear his voice, saying my name. Or I say his name "Tully…” Maybe before the Expiation people knew that the love of a good man was a powerful, devastating intoxicant. It weakens you, distracts you, makes you prone to obsessive thoughts and lost productivity. Maybe that’s why they did it. To increase productivity. Love must be the most potent force on earth, if it can fuck you up even when you know it’s not real.
And here's a smoking hot excerpt:
Tully pushes me against the glass and kisses me.
It’s nothing like our previous kisses. He’s possessed by a kind of madness, a frenzy, his hands tearing at my clothes. Soon his fingers are caressing my breasts, pushing my bra out of the way so he can knead and pinch my nipples.
I would say something, something like fuck, yes but his tongue has captured mine, our lips so firmly connected together that it’s as though we have become one person.
One of his hot hands slips down my stomach under my skirt into my panties. From the corner of my eye I see one of the couples strolling past the candy shop. They turn momentarily, glancing at us with amused expressions before continuing on.
I gasp, whimpering as Tully’s fingers find the wetness and need between my legs.
“Stop?” he says onto my lips.
“NO! Fuck no.”
He begins to move his lips down my body into my cleavage, among the mangled folds of my shirt and bra. His lips close tightly on one nipple, then the next, a maddening distraction from what is happening further down.
Tully has found the button and zip of my skirt and undone them both. My skirt falls to the ground.
Out on the promenade another couple wanders past—both men. They laugh as they disappear out of sight. I find myself wishing they would stay and watch. I want the whole world to see this.
Tully kneels at my feet, his fingers sliding my panties down to fall in the pool of my skirt. Then he lifts one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. His lips press on the mound of my sex as his fingers stroke my pubic hair, parting me.
“Oh, fuck…” I say.
About the Author
Bibi Rizer is a mom, blogger, teacher and writer living in the Pacific Northwest. While she’s been writing professionally for many years, romance and erotica are relatively new pursuits.
Bibi likes writing about strong kinky women and brave willing men living in realistic and imperfect worlds.
In her spare time Bibi sings Karaoke and hangs around on film sets with child actors. Having the the firm belief that no one can be too weird or too funny, she happily admits that most of her favorite people and characters are both.
Stalk her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Goodreads or her blog at www.BibiRizer.com.
For sneak peeks, swag, freebies and other fun, consider joining Bibi’s Street Team, The Early Rizers.
Dani Broussard never imagined that her life
would turn out like this. She always thought that her grandfather would be
there for her into adulthood and that her high school sweetheart, Jared, would
be the man she would marry. That isn’t what happened though. Instead, her
grandfather got sick and passed away before Dani saw the age of nineteen. It
was just her and Jared until he hooked up with a local MC, The Suicide Kings…
Then it was just her. Pig-Pen claimed her body, rules her life, but he would
never hold her heart. Kept because of her looks and a particular set of skills
unique only to her, Dani has been with The Suicide Kings for the last three
years… three long damaging years. She hates it, all of it, the pain the
humiliation, the fear… and as strong as Dani is, as clever as she can be, she
is quickly finding that death may be the kinder, gentler option rather than
live through any more of this hell.
He’s Dangerous…
Red-XIII is, and always will be, a Sacred
Hearts man. But for now, he’s a Suicide Kings prospect. Tasked with providing
intelligence on the King’s inner workings to his real club, Thirteen has been
slowly, quietly and carefully dismantling the King’s operation from the inside
out. The situation is dangerous, good thing Thirteen is a dangerous guy but
even he can’t be everywhere at once and a couple of missteps have cost the
Sacred Hearts dearly. Doubly determined to finish this with no more wreckage or
damage to the SHMC, Thirteen is blindsided by his heart when he lays eyes on
Dani. A pretty, little thing with long black hair and striking blue eyes. She
slays him with one look from her damaged soul and now Thirteen has tasked
himself with two missions… Take down The Suicide Kings and get both Dani and
himself out alive.
For now those missions run parallel to each
other but what happens if they ever end up at odds? The bigger question is, how
can he get close to the VP’s Ol’ Lady as a Prospect and not get them both
burned?
A.J. Downey is a born and raised Seattle, WA Native. She finds inspiration from her surroundings, through the people she meets and likely as a byproduct of way too much caffeine.
When O’Mara is assigned to report on a new sexual service in the City of Dark Pleasures -- one that has been the subject of much gossip -- she’s not sure what to expect. What she finds there only reminds her of all that has been lost in The Expiation. She meets Tully -- handsome, attentive, mysterious and unlike any “servant” O’Mara has met in the Pleasures. His extraordinary service is about to allow her to experience a level of intimacy she has only ever imagined. And now, here's a little synopsis of what's to come in The Amber Columns: Tully: Sex is what we sell in the City of Dark Pleasures. To work here you need to sequester your emotions, your humanity, your soul if there’s such a thing. If you don’t you’re in danger of losing it all together, permanently. For someone like me, my damaged soul is all I have left. I try to slip it off like a coat when I work, and most of the time I can. Most of the time no feelings at all come into what I do. But there are times I weaken, times when patrons get to me either for good or ill. Mostly ill. Once a woman I met got inside me like no one has. It wasn’t love, but it was as close as I will ever be. O’Mara was her name. O’Mara Tanner. Every morning I read her byline on the Island News Service. She writes about fluff—places to shop, entertainments to see. She wrote about me once. It was all lies, but I don’t hold that against her. Our civilization is built on lies. The brief time we spent together was all lies. Sometimes I think I would give up everything just to have O’Mara Tanner lie to me again. O'Mara: It’s only at night that I’m scared of him. During the day I think about his golden eyes, his warm skin and his velvety voice to the point of distraction. I could lose my job if I don’t get my shit together. A lost job means a lost income. If I can’t pay my rent I could lose my citizen status. And then what? Then I join him, working in the Pleasures? I could go and see him. I should go and see him. I can find the money somewhere and go and get him to hook me up to that infernal machine of his and lose myself in his beautiful dreamscape. The one in which we are lovers. If I can just spend another moment in that forlorn and hopeless dream I might be able to get him out of my system. As it is I’ve been masturbating until my fingers ache, and the skin of my clitoris is burning and raw. Whenever I climax I hear his voice, saying my name. Or I say his name. “Tully…” Maybe before the Expiation people knew that the love of a good man was a powerful, devastating intoxicant. It weakens you, distracts you, makes you prone to obsessive thoughts and lost productivity. Maybe that’s why they did it. To increase productivity. Love must be the most potent force on earth, if it can fuck you up even when you know it’s not real. Without further ado, here's the lovely new cover:
Isn't it gorgeous? And when you read the book and discover what he's looking up at it's even better! And if that's not enough to get you excited, here are a couple of teasers:
I have gotten a lot of messages
and some seriously fired up responses about killing off characters in the fifth
installment of the SHMC series. Some of the reviews that have been left have
been pretty entertaining, some of them have been downright special, but all of
them have the same theme: “Oh my God! You wretched bitch! How could you!?”
Well! Oh my God! If you only
knew what I had to go through to write
Fractured & Formidable this way, some of you might be a little more
understanding. It was bad, ladies and gentlemen, it was really bad. I argued
with the specific character for weeks.
The secondary characters I was a bit meh about, but the main character, oh good
lord the knockdown, drag out,
internal screaming matches inside my head were to a level that I came down with
some very real physical headaches.
To give you an idea, I wrote
Fractured & Formidable in its entirety and I wrote it so the character in
question lived… I really did! Then I got half way through the next and final
book in the SHMC series and had to come to a screeching halt because the
character in question put their foot down. I went back to Fractured &
Formidable and ripped out the entire back half of the book. When I say the
entire back half I mean I deleted chapters nineteen through thirty-two, the
only thing that got saved was the epilogue. I then rewrote the entire back half
of the book according to the character’s wishes and what do you know? The book
came out so much better for it.
Unfortunately, my day job
wouldn’t let me wear the black arm band for a month in remembrance but what the
fuck do they know about it anyways? I was in mourning and, to be completely
honest, I still haven’t found all of the pieces of my broken heart. It may have killed a part of y’all to read it,
but these guys live in my heart and in my head twenty-four hours a day, seven
days a week. To suddenly have that voice go silent, to never hear from them
again… then to know and be the only
one to know for months and months and
months before I could release it, suffering in silence, knowing how many people
I was about to devastate…
Yeah, I understand you might be
angry, hurt and heartbroken but does that really
necessitate a one star review?
So you might have noticed that
I have been MIA for the last couple of weeks. My apologies, but a lot has been
going on in my camp that isn’t writing related but has most definitely had an
effect on it.
First off, on Monday, June 8th,
2015 I quit the job I have had for the last three years as a corporate security
specialist with a company contracted to amazon. I did it suddenly. I finished
out my shift, called my supervisor and told him I wouldn’t be returning. I
showed some pretty great restraint by not just walking off the job that
morning. I have to tell you, even though it wasn’t my style to leave a job
without doing the full two weeks’ notice, it was the best decision I could have
made for myself given the circumstances. A huge weight has been lifted from my
shoulders.
It was like leaving a three
year long abusive relationship.
Now, that being said, I didn’t
leave without a plan in place. Not a lot of people know, that for the last
year, I’ve worked three jobs. My full
time Monday through Friday security job, I’ve been a full time author and I
also did part time weekend / seasonal work for another security company.
Well, when I left the
aforementioned Monday through Friday gig, I immediately went to work for the
second security company full time. The schedule was a hard shift from having to
be awake at 06:00 to having to be at work at 06:00. Additionally, I went from
doing corporate security to a much more attention intensive position as
security at a cargo facility. Port security and Corporate security, while both
security positions are two completely different animals. It’s like comparing a
lion and a tiger. While both of them are cats… yeah.
So I’ve been at the new job a
full week as of yesterday. I’ve already pulled at least one double shift and
worked at least one of my days off, and I have to say. I am much, much happier here. I feel like I have
purpose again. I am respected and appreciated by my supervisors and my
coworkers. We take care of each other out here and it’s a beautiful thing… it’s
just been requiring a lot more of my time until I settle into the new groove of
things.
I know I owe three of you swag
packs and I am hoping to get them out by Friday of this week (June 19, 2015)
and I am so sorry for the long delay. I will begin picking up on making
takeovers and more appearances both online and in person, likely starting in
late July / early August, just to give myself plenty of breathing room.
I have several completed books
that are working their ways through the editing process. Books that are set for
release all the way up through January of 2016, so I have time to get back on
track with planned writing projects soon and there won’t be any interruptions
in publication. (Basically: Don’t worry, your entertainment reading crack
supply from A.J. Downey will go uninterrupted.)
I miss you guys. I miss talking
with you and interacting with you on a daily basis and I promise you, I am
still here. If you need or want to message, I will still always answer. I just
might take a little longer to reply.
That being said, I feel really
excited, almost exhilarated about this new life change of mine. Changing jobs
is sometimes a scary prospect, even more so when you do things like take a pay
cut to do it, like I did. Still, in the long run, this will be much better for
me, mentally, emotionally and by default from those two things alone,
physically. I’m looking forward to the new adventures ahead with this new
company and with my writing, so stay tuned. I may go quiet but I am, for sure,
not going anywhere.
Well it's finally here! The cover for I Am The Alpha, my first joint collaboration with author Ryan Kells for your viewing pleasure:
The pack has ruled over it's territory, the wilds of Washington, for a generation, but that has all crumbled with the murder of the Alpha. William Reese is determined he will heal the pack by taking leadership, but in doing so he pits himself against enemies he may not be able to beat.
Chloe has been pulled from her home and thrust into a world she never knew existed, a world her father was careful to keep hidden from her. She is now threatened with a gruesome death by terrifying creatures from legend.
Somehow William and Chloe must find a way to stay alive against the forces determined to see them dead.
"I wouldn't," he drawled from the front seat in a
threatening tone. I looked up into the rearview mirror. Deep brown eyes,
intense, brooding, and very unfriendly
were illuminated by the headlights from the oncoming traffic. I met their
reflection with a grim resignation. I had nothing on him size wise. Nothing at
all. I was stuck.
My breathing was returning but it hurt, I knew I would be bruised,
but I could live with that. I could probably live if he raped me, even if the
thought did make me ill… but if he actually physically took me away? Out of the
city? No. If he took me away, I knew the odds. I knew the likelihood of what
happened next. If he took me away I couldn't live with that, I wouldn't live, statistically speaking.
If he took me, rape would be the least of my worries. If he took me away he was
going to kill me and I wouldn't, couldn’t go down without a fight.
As soon as I could draw full breath I struggled into a
sitting position. I was about to let loose and start screaming when he growled at me. It was unlike anything I
had ever heard before, an animal sound emanating from his very human throat. It
caught me so off guard I forgot about the whole screaming and making a fuss
that I was supposed to be doing. He knew it too! The bastard jerked the wheel
and slammed on the brakes and I was thrown back down below the level of the
windows. My head connected sharply with the tempered glass on my way down and I
cried out, my hands tied and useless in front of me, though I desperately tried
to stop myself from colliding with anything else.
He jerked the car’s shifter into park and got out, the crisp
fall air swirling into the car’s warm interior in his wake. The back door
opened and I kicked out. He cursed and grabbed my ankle and I screamed. I
screamed and howled and I kicked out with my other foot and connected solidly
with his chest. Predictably, it didn’t do a damned thing for me, except piss
him off.
He grunted and dove into the back seat, over the top of me,
his large hands curving around my tied wrists. He was between my thighs and I
gasped which I choked off into a whimper. His black jeans may have been two
sizes too big, his belt working overtime to keep them up, but there was no
amount of fabric in the world that would disguise the hot, solid length of his
erection which pressed solidly at the apex of my thighs.
"You keep struggling, I will rape you, just to make a point," he threatened. I blinked
and he grinned savagely, his teeth very white and almost sharp looking, nestled
in his dark blonde goatee.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked and hated how
breathy it was.
"None of your business, either behave, or I'll put you
in the trunk."
I turned it over in my mind. That had possibilities, I could
break out a tail light or pull the emergency... I gasped and suppressed a moan
as he squeezed my wrists so hard, I swore the bones in them ground together.
"You're hurting me!" I cried.
"That's the idea, Little Huntress, you going to calm
your shit?"
"Oh my god, fuck you!" I spat, "Why should I
cooperate with you? Why should I help you kidnap
me?"
He leaned back a bit, actually considering the question
before meeting my eyes again. "Because I'm not the only one interested in
finding you, and they aren't nearly as nice as I am."
A.J. Downey is a born and raised Seattle, WA Native. She
finds inspiration from her surroundings, through the people she meets and
likely as a byproduct of way too much caffeine. She has lived many places and
done many things, though mostly through her own imagination.
A California native and avid reader, for Ryan, making the transition from reader to writer was simply the next logical evolution.
He enjoys a number of genres from paranormal suspense to dystopian post-apocalyptic. All of his work contains a romantic spin with a decidedly erotic flare.
You can find him either on his Blog or on Facebook. He hasn't gone quite as crazy as A.J.
