Blitz & Giveaway for Silk Malice by Eve Dangerfield

Silk Malice

Eve Dangerfield

(Snow White, #2)

Publication date: January 31st 2023

Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance

Once upon a time I was left with nothing. Betrayed by my stepmother and stolen by my ex-fiancé. Now I’m battered but intact, just like my prized innocence.

My heart tells me I don’t want to belong to one man. I belong to four.

But the criminals I love are proud. Too proud.

Their brotherhood is in tatters.

They fight for me. And they possess me, even as the enemies close in. Even as the foundation of our twisted family crumbles. Even as the dark legacy threatens to consume us all.

Book two in the SNOW WHITE trilogy. This is a scorching romance between a woman and four beautifully dangerous men in which she never has to choose.

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Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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Blitz & Giveaway for Velvet Cruelty by Eve Dangerfield

Velvet Cruelty

Eve Dangerfield

Publication date: October 11th 2022

Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance

Once upon a time I was promised to a powerful man. I was raised to be dutiful and innocent. But on my wedding day, I’m stolen by four men. Men who loathe my fiancé. They’re going to use me to fulfill their vendetta.

One of them only wants my body.

One of them wants me as his wife.

Another one offers freedom… at a price.

And the last wants me dead.

I was raised to be a good society wife. Now I’m facing a battle of wits and breathless desire. My only hope is to set aside my innocence. Or learn to use it as a weapon.

Author’s Note: VELVET CRUELTY is a scorching romance between a woman and four beautifully dangerous men in which she never has to choose. Read at your own discretion.

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EXCERPT:

A girl barely old enough to be called a woman is sitting on a bench two hundred feet below me. She’s laughing, a cutesy box of cupcakes on her knees. I adjust my lens scope and her face comes into focus. Green eyes, pale skin, and a wide, soft mouth with lips as red as blood—a color I’ve seen more of than most. She picks up a cupcake and holds it away from herself, as though afraid to taste it. Knowing her stepmother, she probably is.

Terrell says something and she laughs, her long ebony black hair catching the light. People stare as they walk past, their mouths falling open. The girl’s always been pretty, but since she turned eighteen no one can take their eyes off her. I move my scope half an inch to the left and find Terrell. Clean-shaven with a hint of baby fat around the cheeks and chin. He looks younger than thirty-eight. And soft. The kind of guy you’d size up if you were looking to jump someone at a train station.

My finger brushes the rifle trigger. One squeeze, the whisper-jerk of a bullet, and he’d be gone. But a quick death is better than Zachery Terrell deserves.

He can’t take his eyes off the girl, either. From forty stories away, I can tell he wants to grab her hair and pull her mouth onto his cock. He won’t though. Two benches away, not bothering to look like anything but muscle, are her bodyguards. Kurt Whitehall and Theodore Murphy. Their Rugers are in full view at their sides as they chat and eye up female joggers. I could be killing John F Kennedy behind them, and they wouldn’t notice. They’re there to stop Terrell from grabbing teenage tits, and that’s all.

I’ll see Whitehall and Murphy soon. Show them exactly how bad they are at their jobs.

The girl stops laughing and brings the pink cupcake to her lips. Her small tongue flicks at the frosting and Terrell almost nuts in his jeans.

She’s not teasing him. She’s just fucking clueless. A doe-eyed little girl. Never been on a date. Never had a friend sleep over. Her mom dresses her in shirts Mormons wouldn’t be caught dead in. Whenever anyone talks to her, those big green eyes glaze over. Bobby says she’s pretending to be slow. Doc and I think she’s dumber than a sack of hair. If she had a different last name, she’d have flunked out of high school. But when you know you’ll be married before you can buy beer, why bother learning?

Terrell moves to wipe the pink frosting from her nose, and the girl glances at her bodyguards. They snap to attention and Terrell’s hands fall to his sides. He’s smiling, but it’s fixed. Irritable. He doesn’t like being told what to do, but rules are rules and no one touches Harlow Constantine. He’s lucky to sit next to her. When the girl graduated from Pembrooke Prep, she received her diploma offstage. She’s danced at the New York Ballet Academy since she was nine, but no one’s ever seen her perform. A kid once tried to film her riding a horse at Kensington Stables and Murphy hit him so hard, he got a concussion.

Terrell’s spent millions gaining the stepmother’s loyalty, and that bitch has made sure no one’s so much as brushed up against the girl’s side. She’s as pure as snow and in four weeks she’ll say ‘I do’ and belong to Terrell forever.

Or so he thinks.

Terrell’s security team is almost invisible. Two guys in the skyscraper across the road. Two more in a Buick idling by the curb. A sniper on top of St Michael’s church. If I shot Terrell this morning, I’d have to execute five men in under a minute to get away. Not impossible, but messy. I shift my position, easing the ache in my spine as the girl finishes her cupcake. She sucks leftover frosting from her fingertips, and a throb runs down my cock. There’s a body begging for corruption under those ugly clothes. It’d be fun to tear her out of them. She’d cover herself with her hands, but that’d only make it hotter, her tits jiggling as tears ran down her face. I’d feed her Orchard, so she’d be wet and writhing, whatever her prissy little mind told her. I’d pin her to the floor, shove her thighs wide with my knees, and press into her pussy. I’d watch her virgin blood smear up and down my shaft as I fucked her. She’d fight me the whole way, her little fists pounding against my back as I broke her open.

The perfect Constantine princess, ruined by a dirty lowlife like me.

But that’s not the plan. Whatever Morelli decides to do with the girl, she doesn’t really matter. Terrell matters. Making him regret the day his father slimed into his whore of a mother matters.

There’s a chance I’ll fuck Harlow Constantine, but it’s more likely I’ll kill her. Kill her, cut out her heart and feed it to Terrell. And it won’t be personal. As Terrell taught us a long time ago, sometimes you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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Blitz & Giveaway for First and Forever by Eve Dangerfield

First and Forever

Eve Dangerfield

(Rebirth, #3)

Publication date: May 4th 2022

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

They’ll fake it ‘til they make it and then some…

Football player Sloan ‘Willow’ Williams has been looking for The One for years. He’s checked all the right places—and some of the wrong ones—and found sh*t all. But the moment he sees Eden Jade Cartwright, he knows she’s the girl for him.

Unfortunately, her entourage won’t let him anywhere near her…

Eden doesn’t want anything, aside from an international music career. She does, however, enjoy being worshipped, which the giant redhead seems inclined to do. But with a world tour beckoning, now isn’t the time for a boyfriend…

Willow has the perfect solution; a short, fake relationship that will boost Eden’s clout and scratch both their itches. Only he’s hoping the beautiful blonde will keep him around. And Eden’s praying she’ll be able to let him go…

First and Forever is a standalone romance by the critically acclaimed author Eve Dangerfield.

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—

EXCERPT:

The thought reverberated around Willow’s head alongside the trance beat. Her trance beat. Eden Jade—better known by her DJ name, Bunny Descent, stood behind the decks on stage, one hand raised. The lights turned her white-blonde hair to pink and her ripped wedding dress was spattered neon by the leaking glow-sticks her fans were waving.

Her perfect face was screwed in concentration as she fiddled with something on the decks. The music transitioned from a hard, pulsing beat to something Willow recognised—‘Self Care’ by Mac Miller. The crowd cheered, more people rushing toward the stage, hands raised. It was three in the morning and the tiny dance floor was thrumming.

Willow had expected the crowd to thin as the night wore on, but the opposite happened. Bunny Descent was the seventh DJ of the night, and the audience was more hyped for her than anyone else. Watching the crowd dance, he felt a surge of pride. From what he’d read in interviews, Eden was scared of not breaking through, worried her sound was too erratic for main stages. But there was no way the woman in front of him wasn’t making it big. She oozed glamour and with each and every song, he grew more amazed she wasn’t famous.

“She is a goddess,” a guy slurred in his ear. “I, like, actually fuckin’ love her.”

Willow turned and saw the guy was talking to his equally fucked up mate, but that didn’t change the fact he was vocalising his own thoughts about Eden.

I’m different, he told himself.

Why?

I just am.

That had always been the only reason he needed. People called him overconfident, but that implied he tried to be confident. He didn’t. He was just lucky. He got what he wanted.

As the music surged higher, Willow danced along with the crowd, working his weight from foot to foot. A few girls smiled, looking for someone to kiss—or maybe because they recognised him, but he only had eyes for Eden. On stage she leant forward, touching the hands of the people dancing in front of her. The second she made contact, the crowd screamed fit to burst the roof. Willow knew exactly how they felt.

He’d been scoping her Instagram for ages, but there was nothing like seeing her in real life. With her long blonde hair and big eyes, she looked like Sailor Moon—his first and most powerful crush. He watched as Eden put her hands behind her head and shook, her tits bouncing in her wedding dress. Attraction burred through him like an electric current. He’d never been so into anyone. Even Sailor Moon. What could that be but true love? As he watched her dance, he made himself a promise—come hell or high water, he’d talk to her tonight.

A hard elbow bashed his side.

“Oi,” Derek shouted over the music. “What are we still doing here? Everyone’s out of their minds.”

Willow danced away from his friend. “I dunno. I’m not tired.”

“You’re never fucking tired. Where’s the patient?”

Willow glanced around. Patrick Normal, better known as Psycho, was swaying softly beside the bar, apparently having forgotten he wanted a beer. “Psycho’s… having a time.”

Derek followed his gaze. “Fuck me, he’s maggoted.”

“Yeah, he’ll be up for hours. Better we’re still out with him, hey?”

“This is all your fault. If Mara was in town, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made it clear you’ll be dogging the boys from now on, Hardo.”

The track Eden was playing bled into a remix of that Rasputin, love machine song. The dancers packed around the stage, jumping so hard the floor shook. Eden swished her white-blonde hair over her shoulder and his cock throbbed. He could see her doing that while she rode him—looking down her nose as he worked to make her come.

His side burst with pain. He rubbed it, glaring at Derek. “What’s your problem?”

“You. You’re making gorilla noises.”

“You could hear that?”

“Of course, I…” A look of barely concealed terror dawned on Derek’s face. A look Willow knew all too well. He backed away in case Derek decided to put him in a headlock. “What have I done now?”

Derek pointed at the stage. “Please tell me we’re not here because you want to fuck that DJ?”

Willow gave him a winning smile. “Do you want a drink?”

“I wanna know if you dragged me all the way to the city to watch you fail to pick up a DJ.”

Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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Blitz & Giveaway for Return All by Eve Dangerfield

Return All

Eve Dangerfield

(Rebirth, #2)

Publication date: December 14th 2021

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Hundreds of women have tried to win Derek over, but the only girl he’s loved is nowhere to be found…

Derek Hardiman has been crowned a football prodigy—but success came at the cost of his dorky high school sweetheart, Mara Temple. A decade after she left town, he still can’t imagine marrying someone who isn’t her…

Traveling for most of her twenties, Mara has returned home with a designer wardrobe, a sweet puppy, and a new last name. What better to keep her surly ex-boyfriend from recognizing her?

When Mara and Derek are thrown back into each other’s lives the obsession that began when they were teenagers returns in full force. Derek can hardly believe the goddess his once-awkward lover has become, and he’s determined to win her back. But Mara is determined not to give in to the hype surrounding her bachelor superstar ex. Unfortunately, Derek has always lived up to the hype. After all, a girl only has one daddy…

Should true love get a second chance?

Return All is a standalone second chance romance by critically acclaimed author Eve Dangerfield.

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—

EXCERPT:

Derek moved toward her, getting bigger by the second. “Mara? Mara! It’s me!”

His eyes were wild, his face—his face looked different. His moustache was gone. Clean-shaven, he was more like the boy from school than ever, jogging toward her in a black hoodie as though this was Albury in 2011.

Mara lowered hands she hadn’t known she’d brought to her chest. “Hi.”

She said it so quietly he couldn’t have heard her, but his face lit up. Naked happiness so bright it was terrifying. She wanted to burrow into the ground like a scared rabbit.

Chase turned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Derek didn’t even glance at him. His unworldly black eyes were locked on hers. Mara’s cunt contracted. He was going to pick her up. He was going to carry her away like a marauding conqueror. Then he didn’t. He pulled up, his body jolting. “Mara. I can’t believe it’s you.”

She stared up at him. Even in her fuchsia Attico pumps, she barely came to his shoulders. He’d grown since he was a teenager. Up close, his face was different too. There were lines around his eyes that weren’t visible in photos or on TV. Neither was the black stubble under his skin. The word rose unbidden, Daddy, and euphoria spread through Mara’s chest like honey.

“Hello? Asshole? Can you hear me?” Chase demanded.

Derek ignored him. His gaze dragged over her face, studying her as she studied him. She touched a hand to her lips. Had he noticed her injection? Her eyelashes? Her nose? The fact her ears no longer stuck out through her hair?

Then he shook his head. “You’re fucking stunning. You look so… I don’t know how to say it.”

Expensive. She looked expensive. Money had flowed into her life, glossing her rough parts, and buffing the bright places to a near-impossible shine. She looked like a rich girl. Mara stared at her toes. For years she’d dreamed of this moment, dreamed of him saying these things, but now he was here, and she wanted to hide.

“Mara… where have you been, baby?”

It was such a huge question, tied off with such a ridiculous pet name, Mara didn’t know how to answer. “Around. I guess.”

Derek’s face sagged. “But—”

Chase stepped between them. “Maybe I should have made this clearer at our meeting, stay the fuck away from us. Now leave or I’ll call the police.”

“One minute, mate.” Derek sidestepped Chase. “Your hair. When did you grow out your hair?”

Mara almost laughed. “When I was twenty. Derek, what are you doing here? Is this about the house?”

“The house? The fucking house?”

He took a step toward her, and Chase moved across, blocking him. “Talk with your words, Hardiman.”

Derek scowled but took a step backward. “I’ve been looking for you for years. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Mara felt a small streak of pride. She’d paid handsomely to keep her name out of Google search terms. It was nice to know it had worked. “I… got off social media.”

“Right.” Derek shoved his hands into his pockets. “Fuck. Well, I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry, for everything. I’m sorry we lost touch and…”

His words washed over Mara like dirty waves. So sorry. Lost touch. Baby. They meant nothing. They were just sounds crammed together. A woman in a gray coat ducked past them and she realised they were blocking the path. She turned her face away.

Chase glanced from her to Derek. “Okay, this has been sufficiently weird, but we need to get to work. Goodbye, Mr Hardiman. Don’t come here again.”

Chase slid his arm through hers and steered her around Derek and back toward HFA.

“Mara!”

Derek’s voice stirred waters deep inside her. Places she’d allowed to crumble in the darkness of her twenties. She turned and found him staring desperately after her.

“He’s gonna follow us,” Chase muttered. “Keep walking. We’ll go upstairs—”

“Mara!” Derek’s voice was clear, a king calling across his hall. “Mara, we’re not done.”

She stopped as though he’d commanded it and Derek’s legs ate up the ground between them. “You. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

She flushed, aware of Chase sputtering at her back. “Derek, I don’t know what to do.”

“So let me decide.”

Anger sizzled through her like hot oil. “Things aren’t the way they used to be.”

“Okay. I get that. You want me on my knees?”

“What?” she and Chase said together.

To her astonishment, Derek dropped like a stone onto the dirty footpath, cutting his height in half.

“For the love of Christ,” Chase groaned but Mara could only stare. Derek had always been unapologetic in his affection, but this was insane. He was a famous footballer and anyone could see him. How could he possibly be this desperate to speak to her? “Derek…”

“Give me your number.” He raised his tattooed palms as though in prayer. “Let me give you mine. I need to see you again.”

But you’re seeing me right now…

Chase touched her shoulder. “I’ll give you some privacy. But I’m right here.”

“Okay,” Mara whispered.

Derek watched Chase go, his gaze flicking back to hers as soon as he gauged Chase was far enough away.

“Baby,” his voice was gravel. “Baby, I want to kiss you. I am barely holding back right now.”

Mara knew that. She felt his energy vibrating out at her like orange heat. He wanted to snatch her up, crush her, take her down. Her body responded like warm paper desperate to curl into flame.

He smirked, so handsome, it almost stopped her heart. “It’s been too long, Little Miss.”

She stepped back. Little Miss. She called Pan that. But he had called her that. Not all the time. In bed. Pan. Pan was chewing away at Chase’s jumper upstairs. She needed to go to her. She needed to be with Pan. She took another step back. “I don’t know why you came, but I have to go.”

Derek stayed on his knees. “Give me your number. Or take mine. We’re not done, baby.”

Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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Blitz & Giveaway for Begin Again, Again by Eve Dangerfield

Begin Again, Again

Eve Dangerfield

(Rebirth Series, #1)

Publication date: August 4th 2021

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The chemistry’s right, the timing’s so wrong…

True love is never convenient…

What do Bethany Myers and infatuation have in common? They’re both bright, beautiful and refuse to conform.

What do Byron Thomas and denial have in common? Just about everything. But don’t worry about it.

Ex-party girl Beth moved to Melbourne for a fresh start—which was immediately derailed by the city’s COVID lockdown. After an isolated winter, summer has arrived and Beth (and her body) is crying out for connection. But the rules have changed and being vulnerable feels risky…

A pro-footballer turned electrician, Bryon has plenty of secrets and even more regrets. He’s the glue holding his dysfunctional family together and he wants things to stay simple—something Beth makes impossible.

After a roadside encounter Bryon and Beth’s worlds collide. What was supposed to be a hook up becomes a full-on summer romance. As they question their future, both together and apart, they learn you don’t come of age once but again and again.

Begin Again, Again is a return to the world of romance novels for critically acclaimed author Eve Dangerfield.

Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Beth wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t so perfect.

She was driving down a quiet rose-strewn street, Charli XCX blaring from her speakers, and there he was, striding across the footpath holding a big metal thing. Three weeks out of lockdown, Beth still wasn’t used to seeing men’s faces uncovered in public. But she’d never be ready for someone like him. He looked like he’d wandered away from a movie shoot, the drab suburbia a mere backdrop for his supernatural hotness. She slowed and he cocked his head at her. ‘Am I okay to go?’

He had a slash through his left eyebrow. The thin, bisecting line was a flaw that somehow made him hotter, like a gap between a supermodel’s front teeth.

Beth waved him on. He raised two fingers in a tiny salute and walked toward the black ute on the other side of the road. Beth watched the muscles in his arms shift and lock as he carried his… work tool, or whatever it was, across the road. Charli sang about boys, needing boys, wanting boys, and Beth’s mood soared. It was a gorgeous day; lockdown was finally over and guys as hot as this still existed. Better than existed—existed near her.

She still might not have done anything, but then she saw the butterfly. It was royal blue, huge and beautiful. It flitted past his handsome face, and it was like a cosmic promise that after all these months of loneliness, she could, would, fuck again.

“Oh my god,” she said to no one. Without another conscious thought, she wound down the car window and stuck her head into the summer morning. “Hey! You’re fucking gorgeous!”

The guy turned—of course he turned, she’d yelled at him—and gave her a bemused look. Beth’s insides churned. His eyes were brighter than his hair suggested they’d be, hazel or even green. The butterfly shimmered across his throat, as reluctant to leave him alone as she was.

He looked at her as he hauled the big metal thing into the tray of the ute. He didn’t seem annoyed; he didn’t seem like anything. Beth knew she should move, but she couldn’t. She was stuck between shame and the strangest feeling she knew him. Or that maybe she’d been waiting for him. That she’d known to drive to this spot at this time and see this guy.

He moved toward her car and common sense kicked in. She’d catcalled a guy in the street. He might have thought she was joking. Fucking with him. Beth imagined his fist pounding the car windshield and saw him yelling that he wasn’t a woman and didn’t deserve that shit. She fumbled for the accelerator, but he was already in front of her, hand outstretched.

“Hey.”

His voice was deep but clean. Up close there was a boyish roundness to his eyes that unnerved her. He was young, younger than her. Mid-twenties maybe. Beth’s stomach roiled. “Hey, um, how’s it going?”

“Not bad.” He bent down, looking through her open window. His eyes were green, dark jade like pounamu. Her stomach swooped. Did she know him? Had they made plans to be here?

He glanced at her body, both brows lifting slightly. Lust hit Beth like a truck. She wanted him, wanted him with a clarity she hadn’t experienced since Ben Havish’s sweet sixteenth pool party.

“How are you?” he asked.

Beth looked into his face and saw enough interest to press wildly, recklessly ahead. “Good. Do you want to hang out?”

The guy leaned back, straightening up. “Right now?”

Beth’s brain jammed. Was he inviting her onto his worksite? To his car? She wasn’t opposed, but… “I’m on my lunch break. How about tonight?”

His gaze travelled down her body, and Beth wished she’d worn something hotter than a pink t-shirt and jeans. Like a dress and heels. Or a fur coat and lingerie.

“Tonight works.”

Beth resisted the urge to clap her hands to her face and squeal.

Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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