Ashley's Addictive Book Blog

This blog was started because I am addicted to reading, and I could sometimes talk for hours about a book if it was good. I was told that I sometimes talk to much about my books and that there were lots of people out there who love to hear about books.Good or bad and that I should start a blog so people could follow what I read. So here I am. Its all me the truth and nothing but. So I hope you enjoy and please remember to follow me so you can get all the up-to-date reads and reviews.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Asylum Blog Tour

Words are funny things.

Their meaning, the pictures they paint in the minds of those that hear them: they’re not always the same and to me at least, that makes them meaningless.

Take for instance the phrase ‘black widow’. Those words conjure the image of a spider, an eight-legged creature with the red imprint of an hourglass on its abdomen.

However, instead of speaking of an arachnid, of the resident of a spindly and dew-laden web, the people who whisper those words are talking about something much different.

They’re talking about me.

From what I’m told, I’m called the Black Widow because no man I’ve ever loved has survived.

Yet, I have no memory of any of it.

My new home leads me to the definition of another vague and meaningless word.

It’s a place where I’m supposed to seek refuge.

A place of retreat and security.

It’s a place where I’m supposed to be kept safe because I’m sick.

But the definition for this place is wrong and the word becomes meaningless when you’re tucked away and made silent by drugs and pretty white jackets.

My name is Alexandra Sutton and this is the story of what happened when I was imprisoned inside an Asylum.

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Lily White is a dark writer who likes to dabble on the taboo side of eroticism. Most of the time she can be found wandering around aimlessly while her mind is stuck in some twisted power play between two characters in her head. You may recognize her in public by the confused expression, random mumbling, and occasional giggle while thinking up a scene. Lily’s favorite things in life are reading, thinking about reading, buying books for reading….and writing. Her other secret pleasure is meeting with her plot editor in public to discuss her books and watching the shocked expressions of the people around her that don’t realize she’s talking about a book. When Lily is not reading, writing, wandering or freaking out innocent bystanders, she’s sleeping.

Connect with Lily

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Friday, February 20, 2015

Restraint Blog Tour

I am Katya Waters.
A survivor of violence.
I fought death and won.
So why do I feel so dead inside?

Katya Waters is a small-town girl, mentally unprepared to deal with her deep, dark past. While walking in her sanctuary, her innocence was torn from her in the most brutal fashion- run to the ground as if she were an animal by a pack of vicious Hunters. After they wounded her spirit, they left her for dead.

How does one overcome a debilitating, tragic event? By strength, perseverance, and an unrelenting will to survive.

Out of desire, Katya no longer wanted to be the hunted. She hungered to be the hunter.

Finally taking her life into her own hands, Katya reached for what she’d earned, for the respect every human being so rightfully deserves.

By moving to a new city for the job of her dreams, Katya unwittingly brought her past nightmares to life, slowly drawing the repressed, dark memories into the light. With a deep desire to explore her true nature, Katya entered the BDSM Club, Restraint; never realizing there would be no escape from her secrets within the club’s walls. Katya’s entire existence turned into a living, breathing, never-ending therapy session from Hell.

The Boss pulled Katya into a thrilling game of Kat & Mouse as a way to force Katya to accept the truth of her past. Follow Katya’s heartbreaking journey as she connected the mystery of her past with her thrilling present.

… As long as I have a tomorrow, I can endure today.

Book 1
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Now Available in Paperback

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Cort’s Everlasting Wood

“Don’t pull Ezra’s psycho-babble out on me, Cort,” I warn. “I’ve cried enough on you guys’ shoulders, back when I was dumb enough to trust you. I was cold and smart, and then Ez manipulated me into feeling warm and safe again. I’m no longer that dipshit of a woman I’ve been for the past two months.”

Cort tries to be the voice of reason again. Scary thought. “Kat–”

But I cut him off. “I never lie down and wait for help that will never arrive. I won’t be passive. I take matters into my own hands and save myself. That’s what smart people do.”

“Smart people also recognize the person standing before them as someone who they can trust, someone who is only here because they want to help. A smart person knows when to ask for help instead of being stubborn. Maybe I should have Aaron tell you this shit, since I’m usually the one he smacks in the face with reality.”

“I don’t need your help right now. I need to regroup, to plan my next course of action,” I bite out.

“And out of everyone you know, who the fuck do you think is the best person for that job?” Cort snarls. “I’m a goddamned writer. Your writer.” Cortez gestures to his body, not only talking with his hands, but screaming with them. “I’m the motherfucking plot master! So let’s go plot, Kitten.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I whisper.

“Trust this,” Cort breathes into my face, getting angrier with every word spoken. “I’ve been with Ez since birth, and he’s fucked me over time and time again. He’s left me feeling just as bereft, raw, betrayed, and wounded as you feel right now. Worse, actually. So trust that I want to punish Ezra more than you could ever imagine, even if I have to use you to do it. Trust that, Kitten.” My throat clenches– a remembrance of how far Cortez Abernathy is willing to go to teach Ezra a lesson, even if he has to use me to do it. That, I can trust.

No soft touches between us as Cort looks into my eyes, knowing the exact direction of my thoughts. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t shrug or nod. He doesn’t even smirk. He just keeps staring at me with blatant honesty and a need to seek his own vengeance, even if he has to use my pain as an excuse.

“Ezra never apologizes to you, does he? He never allows you to punish him, does he?”

“Never,” Cort breathes; eyes glossy, fists clenched. “Not once. Ez hits me where it hurts the most, using mental tactics I can’t avoid. The sick thing is, he doesn’t even realize he’s harming me in the process. The few times I’ve hurt him, it was nothing compared to the pain he’s dealt me. So, what’s the plan, Kitten? We both need this.”

Cortez looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the very first time. We’ve been around each other a few times, and I’ve never felt as if I ever really got to know him. Yes, being skull-fucked was enlightening. But reading Cortez Abernathy’s books had given me even more insight into him as a person. Of all the conversations we’ve held so far, this moment is the first time I’ve understood Cortez on a human level.

I look back at Cort as well, truly seeing him for the person he is, and liking what I see. Cort is my mirror image, more like me than anyone I’ve ever met.

Aaron is childlike in his pain. He’s severely loyal to Ezra, which is a detriment to his other relationships. I’m not discrediting him for it. I love him in spite of it. Aaron will always put Ezra above all others, no matter the consequences. Which means I can only trust Aaron if Ezra has my best interests at heart. My lack of trust in Ezra means Aaron’s loyalty is not a chance I’m willing to take.

Ezra reacts all right, but on his own terms. He is selfless because he takes care of Aaron and Cortez first, but selfish because he does it to punish himself. The air around him is permeated with self-hatred. Doesn’t Ezra realize he can’t truly love someone else if he can’t love himself? He’ll always doubt their love, because why should they love what he hates?

Ezra is a martyr.

Cortez sees to his needs and wants first. It sounds selfish, but it’s not. How can you help others if you can’t help yourself? You must be at your strongest to tackle what life throws in your path. You cannot allow someone else to leach your strength, to drain you, or else you can’t shoulder your own burdens, let alone someone else’s. Cortez doesn’t break. He doesn’t wallow in his pain. He knows he’s fucked up, and accepts that fact with open arms. His attitude allows him to accept everyone else despite their problems. It’s a simple way of living– ruthless and practical. I accept them all.

“Are you going to go take a shower and cry like a little bitch, or are you going to grow a pair and help me plot?” Cort challenges me, more so with his unflinching attitude than with his words. “You with me?”

“I’m with ya,” I utter, never breaking his stare. My mind forms our plan in an instant. “We’re going shopping, and then we’re setting up the dungeon. I need you to do a few things for me, like get people rounded up. This will go down in history as a phenomenal punishment.”

“You’re not really going to hurt Ezra, are you?” Cort looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, causing a wicked smirk to pull at my lips. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he breathes out.

“Says the man who used me to punish Ezra. Yeah, I ain’t buying your bullshit, buddy,” I taunt as Cort chokes on a laugh. “Oh, Ezra will hurt, all right. Just not physically– much. We’re going to hurt him where it matters. Cerebral fuckage, Dr. Ezra Zeitler-style.”

“Just hearing that made me spring wood,” Cort sighs, eyes slipping shut as he shifts the growing bulge around in his pants with the heel of his palm. Groaning from the contact, I realize I better distract Cort before he fucks himself. He’s shameless enough to masturbate before me, of that I have little doubt.

Erica Chilson does not write in the 3rd person, wanting her readers to be her characters. Therefore, writing a bio about herself, is uncomfortable in the extreme.

Born, raised, and here to stay, the Wicked Writer is a stump-jumper, a ridge-runner. Hailing from North Central Pennsylvania, directly on the New York State border; she loves the changes in seasons, the humid air, all the mountainous forest, and the gloomy atmosphere.

Introverted, but not socially awkward, Erica prides herself on thinking first and filtering her speech. There are days she doesn’t speak at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that she lives with her parents, giving her a sense of reality, she would be a hermit, where the delivery man finds her months after expiration.

Reading was an escape, a way to leave a not-so pleasant reality behind. Reading lent Erica the courage she gathered from the characters between the pages to long for a different life. Writing was an instrument of change, evolving Erica into the woman she is today- a better, more mature, more at peace thinker.

Erica has a wicked mind, one she pours out into her creations. Her filter doesn’t allow all of it to erupt, much to her relief. Sarcastic, with a very dark, perverse sense of humor, Erica puts a bit of herself into every character she writes.

Connect with Erica

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Thursday, February 19, 2015

Fighting Silence Excerpt Reveal

Fighting Silence

By. Aly Martinez

Pre-order Fighting Silence

Amazon: http://amzn.to/19xDIie

RELEASE DATE: February 23rd, 2015

Blurb

Sound is an abstract concept for most people. We spend our lives blocking out the static in order to focus on what we believe is important. But what if, when the clarity fades into silence, it's the obscure background noise that you would give anything to hold on to?

I've always been a fighter. With parents who barely managed to stay out of jail and two little brothers who narrowly avoided foster care, I became skilled at dodging the punches life threw at me. Growing up, I didn't have anything I could call my own, but from the moment I met Eliza Reynolds, she was always mine. I became utterly addicted to her and the escape from reality we provided each other. Throughout the years, she had boyfriends and I had girlfriends, but there wasn't a single night that I didn't hear her voice.

You see, meeting the love of my life at age thirteen was never part of my plan. However, neither was gradually going deaf at the age of twenty-one.

They both happened anyway.

Now, I'm on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.

Fighting for my career.

Fighting the impending silence.

Fighting for her.

Every night, just before falling asleep, she sighs as a final conscious breath leaves her.

I think that's the sound I'll miss the most.

Fighting Silence

*Sexy Excerpt*

“Hi.” I stood up off the bed as he started climbing through the window.

His eyes went wide when he saw me, causing him to momentarily lose his balance on the windowsill and go crashing to the floor. “God. Damn,” he cursed as he rose to his feet while taking in my new wardrobe. “You… I…um…” His hand went to his lip.

He was rooted in place only a few steps away, but his eyes traveled over every inch of my body and back again.

Till was speechless. I had never felt so empowered in my life.

“Are you okay?” I feigned concern as I slowly approached.

“Not even close,” he told my breasts, making me giggle.

After sliding a hand under the edge of his T-shirt, I raked a fingernail over each of his abs before dipping it into the waistband of his jeans.

“I’m sore today,” I announced, closing the distance between us. My breasts were pressed against him, but he still hadn't even attempted to touch me yet. I had plans to remedy that. I smirked then stood up on my tiptoes, kissing the base of his neck. “Make me sore for tomorrow too.” At the last second, I darted my tongue out to the hollow dip at the base of his neck. It was meant to tease him, but as the taste of his skin hit my tongue, I was flooded with memories of taking more of him in my mouth. The moan escaped before I’d even felt it coming.

A loud rumble shook his chest, but that was the only warning I received. Suddenly, I was off my feet and sailing through the air. Just as I landed on the bed, Till crashed on top of me. His mouth roughly landed on mine.

“Tell me we can’t do this again,” he demanded as his hands found my breasts.

“We’re definitely doing this again.” I arched into him.

“It’s gonna get so messy, Eliza. Please.” He groaned as I reached into the front of his jeans.

“I’m okay with messy,” I breathed, guiding his hand from my breast and into my panties.

“Fuuuuuck” he cursed when he discovered just how thorough I’d been with the razor earlier. His finger pressed inside me as his body traveled down the bed and settled between my legs, stripping my panties off during his descent.

He added another finger in a less than gentle but overwhelmingly intoxicating, rhythm.

“Tell me to stop, Eliza. We can’t do this again.” He grazed his teeth on the inside of my thigh.

“We’re already doing it.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“It’s going to ruin us.”

“If you don’t stop talking, you’re going to ruin this.”

“I’m serious.” He kissed the inside of my other thigh, his fingers never faltering in their steady pace.

“So am I. Stop trying to talk yourself out of this while your fingers are buried inside me.” I threaded a hand into his hair and gave it a gentle tug.

“Goddammit. Tell me to stop!” he demanded one last time, but his fingers sped before twisting in the most delicious way.

I decided to give him what he wanted, but only because I knew he wouldn't follow through.

“Stop.” I rolled my hips forcing him even deeper.

“Well, it’s too fucking late now.”

I would have laughed, but his mouth sealed over my clit and stole my breath, words, thoughts, and orgasm. My body shook as he pushed me higher even while I was falling. It shouldn't have worked like that, but whatever voodoo magic Till Page was working with that night was all right with me. He didn't stop swirling his tongue until I used his hair to pry his mouth away.

“Too much!” I cried.

He looked up with a wickedly proud grin. His hand disappeared, and seconds later, his cock replaced it.

About the Author:

Aly Martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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DOMWARS Series 1-6 By Lucian Bane Promotional Blog Tour

DOM WARS SERIES 1-6

By Lucian Bane

Blog Tour February 9th-20th 2015

Hosted By Ashley's Addictive Book Promotions

Lucian Bane’s inner Dom is out of control and hungry for things he can’t name. When he signs up for Dom Wars, he meets Tara who is naive to the BDSM world. Her reckless dominance and puritan heart fascinate him. But when he discovers the pain in her past, it unleashes his true Dom within.

Author bio

Welcome to my world

My name is Lucian Bane and I’ve heard from many that I’m the odd one out. But really, I’m just a Husband, an Author, and a Christian Dom. Ah, maybe that’s the one that makes everybody pause. Oxymoron? Not at all.

As an author, I like to write stories—paranormal erotica and contemporary erotica—about men who honor, cherish, and protect the women they love. But more importantly, I also attempt to make these stories a reality for couples everywhere by teaching them in the form of fiction how to add heat and passion to marriages and relationships that might not have it. Teach them how to build life-long commitments that form strong families, like I have with my own beautiful wife.

I think there are many men like myself, and I hope my writing will be a map for them. A map for women as well, to teach them how to bring out the Dom that exists within the men they call boyfriend or husband.

As young men, our inner Doms need a master to train them. I once bowed to my inner Dom's reckless and tireless desires, but when I gave myself to God and conformed my will to His, the transformation made me into what I am today. What many would call an Ineffable Dom. But its equal term in the Vanilla world, in my opinion, is simply a real man.

Author Links

Website/Blog

http://lucianbane.com/blog/

Amazon Author Page

http://www.amazon.com/Lucian-Bane/e/B00IZ23JN0/

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/Lucian_Bane

@Lucian_Bane

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/author.lucian.bane?ref=br_tf

Ruin Book series

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ruin/1484429548509101

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7873610.Lucian_Bane

Google+

https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LucianBaneAuthor/posts

Lucian Bane’s Fan Group

https://www.facebook.com/groups/832495400130628/

Pinterest:

http://www.pinterest.com/lucianbane/

Linked In

www.linkedin.com/pub/lucian-w-bane/a5/658/a2b/

Tumblr

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lucian-bane

Instagram:

http://instagram.com/lucian.bane.paranormal.romance/

Excerpt

I braced my hand on her ankle, pressing it into the couch as I slid my fingers over her inner thighs. "I'm going to lick you here." I stroked along her open folds, letting my finger dip barely. "Your body tells on you, love. You're so wet. And hot." I barely touched her clit and she gave me my first point. A tiny moan. The first vocalized of very many to come.

"Am I right? Is it hot right here?" Again I whispered my finger over her clit a few times.

She strained against the pleasure and nodded.

"I know love." I teased barely at her entrance. "I'm going to finger you until you're bucking on my hand like a good girl."

She was there. On fire. Ready to listen.

I used my entire hand to softly caress her sex, feeling the exact shape of her. I delivered a sharp smack to the puckered lips and she yelped in surprise. I rubbed it softly, tickling at her clit then sliding down for a tease at her dripping entrance. "Your pussy says you like that." I dipped the tip of my finger in her opening, wetting it. I licked it, and shuddered at how good she tasted. Smelled. "You're fucking delicious baby."

She whimpered and I answered with another firm smack. She arched her back and squirmed, keeping her arms obediently above her head. "I told you I would make you squirm, love. Did you not believe me?" I plunged my finger inside her and she cried out. "Mmm. You're so fucking wet. You hear it?" I jabbed deep and quick then switched to slow sensual, then again to shallow fast. "You're so tight on my finger."

I pulled out, gliding my finger softly over silk to adore her clit with lazy circles, then flicks, making her writhe, moan, and buck her hips. I knelt next to her, needing to taste. The hard tips of her nipples demanded my attention, driving my desire to that reckless point. I smacked her pussy and tended her breasts with dominance, filling my mouth with as much of the firm mound as I could. I sucked then let it slowly glide out to hold it captive between my lips for vigorous flicks of my tongue.

She broke the invisible bond I'd put on her wrists and buried her fingers in my hair. Joy surged through me and I moved to her mouth to lick and kiss. "This is for breaking your bonds, love." I spanked her pussy and consumed the sweet cry she gave in my mouth. "This is for taking so fucking long to break it." I plunged my finger deep inside her.

"Lucian."

"Yes. Say it." I rammed my finger against that secret doorway, intent on breaking through. "Say it baby."

All of her control flailed like leaves in an errant wind. "Lucian. Lucian."

"Fuck, baby. I can hear it. I hear all your beautiful secrets in my name. I want them. I want you. All of you. Give me what's fucking mine."

I placed the palm of my hand against her clit putting circular pressure while I continued to unlock paradise from inside. I tasted the passion pouring out of her in rippling unstoppable waves. Hearing her orgasm approach, I lifted my head to watch it, watch as she let it all go for me.

"Lucian! Yes, oh God!"

I watched as my hand and fingers stripped away her control and burst through that prison entrapping her. I kissed her. "Break for me. Come undone baby, I'm here. I'm here, you're safe."

She suddenly pulled me against her, nails raking my skin, and that sweet body arched hard into mine as her orgasm trembled through her with a desperate cry of freedom. In my ear. In my heart. Fucking amazing.

But I was hardly done.