Blog Tour-The Beats in rift by Ker Dukey

The Beats in Rift

Ker Dukey

Release day ~ June 13th

Blurb:

I was invisible, until they saw me.

When circumstance forced me and the Jacob twins

to spend two weeks of the summer together,

the bond we formed would impact us all,

altering our lives.

Fate, entwining us forever.

They became my best friends, my family, my first love.

With their love came their father’s hate!

Love is powerful but also painful and destructive

when it’s torn between three people.

When my mother’s reputation and their father’s vile actions

damage that love, that friendship, it changes the dynamics of our trio

setting me on a path of love, loss and impossible decisions.

Jared the beautiful rogue, who pushed her limits,

opened her eyes and owned her heart.

Their love was powerful, everlasting… until he abandoned her.

Justin, loyal and true, picked her up when she was left fragmented.

He made a place for himself in her heart and would fight to keep it.

When both twins come in and out of Meadows life,

leaving damage and hurt in their wake

will she ever choose one or the other, or leave them both without

the beats in their heart?

My Review

Another amazing book by ker Dukey. I loved it so much that I am always left speechless to explain what I am feeling. I never had this problem :) She gets better and better. This book is about Two brothers and Meadows. They become friends ,they start growing up and feelings develop between the. When you read the interaction of the brothers and her you will feel the love,their friendship their need. They were the heroes and of course their will be a villain. This isn't a book where you know what might happen. and what happens is something that will shock you. While reading it you will have your eyes glued to your Ereader!! Its that good. Both Jacob twins are intense. The shit they deal with life is intense. The love they have is intense. It's a story bout how a vile creature like twins father can do to destroy their life but its a journey how to survive, trust and come out strong. There are twists, turns ,surprises which changes the path. 
I felt like I was in the story shouting,experiencing what they felt I love being on edge while reading a book. this did it to me. I was scratching my head what's going to happen! and trust me scratching my head didn't leave me pretty as I was a guest in someone else's house but my heart ,mind soul was totally in the book.Fantastic job once again Ker! I am lucky to part of blog tour!!!

Buying links:

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1lmYZOc

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1oZYpVU

Author bio:

I have always had a passion for storytelling, whether it be through lyrics or bed time stories with my sisters. I wanted to be an actress growing up so I could live many roles but I learned early on that my mind was too active, I would want to change the script. I would watch films and think of ways they could of improved the story if they took another direction.

My mum would always have a book in her hand when I was young and passed on her love for reading, inspiring me to venture into writing my own. I tend to have a darker edge to my writing. Not all love stories are made from light, some are created in darkness but are just as powerful and worth telling too.

When I’m not lost in the world of characters I love spending time with my family. I’m a mum and that comes first in my life, but when I do get down time, I love attending music concerts with my younger sister, who shares my reading soul, we are two peas in a pod.

Author links:

Goodreads link for The Beats In Rift ~ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22050243-the-beats-in-rift?ac=1

For news, updates and teasers come join me on Facebook  

https://www.facebook.com/KerDukeyauthor

Email here at

kerdukey@gmail.com

https://twitter.com/KerDukeyauthor

Add me on goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18619029-the-broken?ac=1

Other works by Ker Dukey

THE BROKEN

http://tinyurl.com/TBRKN

THE BROKEN PARTS OF US

http://tinyurl.com/TBPOU

MY SOUL KEEPER

http://tinyurl.com/pr8v9r3

Promo Post-Therapist by Jaden Wilkes

Title:  Therapist

Author:  Jaden Wilkes

Release Date: May 19, 2014

SYNOPSIS

I am a sociopath. 

I know this because I diagnosed myself.

I have a PhD in Clinical Psychology from a very prestigious university.

I am charming, attractive, and you probably want to sleep with me.

I take what I want, when I want, and I enjoy picking the most tragic of all my patients to experiment with.

I have no remorse, I am unrelenting in my pursuit of tragedy, and I am about to meet my match.

Her name is not important, I am only allowed to call her Mistress. She is a femme fatale, a patient, and now an obsession.

She will destroy me, I will do anything to get inside of her.

I can already feel her inside of me.


**Trigger warning. This novel contains situations of perversity and dubious consent. It is not a love story, but more of a journey through a few short days in the life of a madman. What you see is not always what you get, reality is altered through his eyes and sometimes there is no happily ever after.

EXCERPT:

As I approach my office, I am hit with a familiar scent. Cigarette smoke. An earthy, fragrant smell that tickles the edge of my memory. I know this brand from somewhere, but I don’t know where.

I follow my nose down the short hallway to my private area and open my door.

Smoke hangs heavy in the air, clouds of it billow away from me as I enter. I cut a path through to find out who fucking dares to pollute my office like this.

“Shut the door, Alexandre,” a smooth female voice announces as I enter my space. I turn and see a figure seated on the couch, a halo of pure white smoke envelops her head and she exhales a languid breath that lingers as she speaks. “We need to talk.”

I don’t know why, but I obey. I shut the door, turn back again and look at her. She seems familiar; I think I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing a cherry red cocktail dress, dangerously high black leather heels and elbow length white silk gloves. Her hair is black and falls in waves around her face; her eyes are just as dark. I stare into them and wonder if they ever end.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” I demand and walk to the window. “Please put out your cigarette, this is a no smoking office,” I continue and slide the glass open.

“I don’t want to, I feel more comfortable with a cigarette in my hand,” she purrs and smiles at me. Her lips are dark red and her teeth are perfect, white and straight. She’s an incredibly beautiful woman. “Think of it as part of my...treatment.”

“Why are you here this early? Who scheduled you? And once again, how did you get in?” I demand again. She laughs and leans back on the couch, her long legs stretch out in front of her, emphasising their perfect shape.

She doesn’t answer, but says, “Doctor, I believe I have an urgent issue we need to address. Please,” she gestures towards my desk, “have a seat.” She draws one last breath from her cigarette, exhales as I sit and butts it out on the bottom of her shoe. Red, Louboutins. In a flash I remember where I’ve seen her. Just last weekend at the restaurant. She was there, was she watching me?

I take my seat. She doesn’t seem like the type I want to argue with, at least not until I get to know her. I decide to go along with her little game and give her the illusion of being in control until I can determine how she needs to be treated. “Well? What is this about?” I ask and set my satchel down on the floor next to my chair.

She takes the cigarette butt and flicks it onto the floor at her feet. She leans back again and looks me up and down, landing on my face, her own a mask of disapproval. “You have been a very, very wicked boy, Alexandre,” she says, her voice still a purr. She has the slightest accent and draws out the last part of my name with a sexy drawl. It’s not Russian, Eastern European perhaps? Middle Eastern? I can’t tell, and with her ambiguous dark features, I couldn’t put a finger on her ethnicity either. She’s beautiful and a complete conundrum.

“Why would you say that, Miss...what did you say your name is?” I ask her, leaning across the desk. I forgot to give the surface a swipe yesterday afternoon and it still carries the slightest pungent scent of the sex that happened on it. A gentle nudge, a reminder of the wicked things I have done.

“I didn’t,” she says and smiles. She almost moves in slow motion as if underwater, elegant and purposeful. “I’ve been watching you, Alexandre, and I’ve seen you get up to all kinds of terrible things.”

“What kinds of things?” I ask her, deciding to continue engaging in her little delusion until I know more about her.

“Things to women, vulnerable women,” she says and raises an eyebrow. “Patients, women you pick up in bars, online...you are very busy and very wicked.”

“How do you know this?” I ask her, feeling rather uncomfortable at this particular line of accusation. I’m very careful with my activities, especially with patients. “Have you been following me?”

“Not following, but watching. They’re very different thing. I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you know,” she tells me and watches my reaction.

“What is your name?” I demand again, feeling that familiar sharp prick of anger rising behind my eyes.

“My name is unimportant. You may call me Mistress.”

“Mistress?” I repeat and laugh, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be calling you that. Now please tell me your name so I have something to call you.”

She leans forward on the couch, crosses her ankles and stares me down. After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, I realize I have to capitulate to get anywhere with her.

I shuffled a few papers on my desk, look back at her and say, “Fine, Mistress it is. Now why are you here...Mistress?”

She licks her lips and leans back again, extends her beautiful legs and folds her hands on her lap. She is perfection and she knows it. That irritates me somehow and yet I can’t help but hang on her every word. The anticipation of her reply is coursing through my veins.

“I already told you,” she says in her low, melodic voice, “I am here because you have been wicked. I am here to punish you.”

I’m not that into BDSM. I like to tie people up and I am the consummate Dominant man if it comes right down to it...but the way she says it, in the mysterious accent, sends a thrill down my spine. I lean farther across the desk, look her in the eyes and say, “How are you planning on punishing me?”

TEASERS:

AUTHOR BIO:

Jaden is the pen name of a girl living on the prettiest farm in BC. She shares her space with her husband, her children, and an Irish Wolfhound named Tiberius. She can now be found lurking in the dark corners of the internet looking for artful porn gifs, dirty poems and places to promo her work.

JADEN'S BUY LINKS:

US AMAZON

UK AMAZON

CAN AMAZON

SMASHWORDS

KOBO

BARNES AND NOBLE

SCRIBD


CONNECT WITH JADEN!

| Goodreads | Facebook | Website | Email

Title:  Therapist

Author:  Jaden Wilkes

Release Date: May 19, 2014

MY REVIEW:

SYNOPSIS

I am a sociopath. 

I know this because I diagnosed myself.

I have a PhD in Clinical Psychology from a very prestigious university.

I am charming, attractive, and you probably want to sleep with me.

I take what I want, when I want, and I enjoy picking the most tragic of all my patients to experiment with.

I have no remorse, I am unrelenting in my pursuit of tragedy, and I am about to meet my match.

Her name is not important, I am only allowed to call her Mistress. She is a femme fatale, a patient, and now an obsession.

She will destroy me, I will do anything to get inside of her.

I can already feel her inside of me.


**Trigger warning. This novel contains situations of perversity and dubious consent. It is not a love story, but more of a journey through a few short days in the life of a madman. What you see is not always what you get, reality is altered through his eyes and sometimes there is no happily ever after.

EXCERPT:

As I approach my office, I am hit with a familiar scent. Cigarette smoke. An earthy, fragrant smell that tickles the edge of my memory. I know this brand from somewhere, but I don’t know where.

I follow my nose down the short hallway to my private area and open my door.

Smoke hangs heavy in the air, clouds of it billow away from me as I enter. I cut a path through to find out who fucking dares to pollute my office like this.

“Shut the door, Alexandre,” a smooth female voice announces as I enter my space. I turn and see a figure seated on the couch, a halo of pure white smoke envelops her head and she exhales a languid breath that lingers as she speaks. “We need to talk.”

I don’t know why, but I obey. I shut the door, turn back again and look at her. She seems familiar; I think I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing a cherry red cocktail dress, dangerously high black leather heels and elbow length white silk gloves. Her hair is black and falls in waves around her face; her eyes are just as dark. I stare into them and wonder if they ever end.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” I demand and walk to the window. “Please put out your cigarette, this is a no smoking office,” I continue and slide the glass open.

“I don’t want to, I feel more comfortable with a cigarette in my hand,” she purrs and smiles at me. Her lips are dark red and her teeth are perfect, white and straight. She’s an incredibly beautiful woman. “Think of it as part of my...treatment.”

“Why are you here this early? Who scheduled you? And once again, how did you get in?” I demand again. She laughs and leans back on the couch, her long legs stretch out in front of her, emphasising their perfect shape.

She doesn’t answer, but says, “Doctor, I believe I have an urgent issue we need to address. Please,” she gestures towards my desk, “have a seat.” She draws one last breath from her cigarette, exhales as I sit and butts it out on the bottom of her shoe. Red, Louboutins. In a flash I remember where I’ve seen her. Just last weekend at the restaurant. She was there, was she watching me?

I take my seat. She doesn’t seem like the type I want to argue with, at least not until I get to know her. I decide to go along with her little game and give her the illusion of being in control until I can determine how she needs to be treated. “Well? What is this about?” I ask and set my satchel down on the floor next to my chair.

She takes the cigarette butt and flicks it onto the floor at her feet. She leans back again and looks me up and down, landing on my face, her own a mask of disapproval. “You have been a very, very wicked boy, Alexandre,” she says, her voice still a purr. She has the slightest accent and draws out the last part of my name with a sexy drawl. It’s not Russian, Eastern European perhaps? Middle Eastern? I can’t tell, and with her ambiguous dark features, I couldn’t put a finger on her ethnicity either. She’s beautiful and a complete conundrum.

“Why would you say that, Miss...what did you say your name is?” I ask her, leaning across the desk. I forgot to give the surface a swipe yesterday afternoon and it still carries the slightest pungent scent of the sex that happened on it. A gentle nudge, a reminder of the wicked things I have done.

“I didn’t,” she says and smiles. She almost moves in slow motion as if underwater, elegant and purposeful. “I’ve been watching you, Alexandre, and I’ve seen you get up to all kinds of terrible things.”

“What kinds of things?” I ask her, deciding to continue engaging in her little delusion until I know more about her.

“Things to women, vulnerable women,” she says and raises an eyebrow. “Patients, women you pick up in bars, online...you are very busy and very wicked.”

“How do you know this?” I ask her, feeling rather uncomfortable at this particular line of accusation. I’m very careful with my activities, especially with patients. “Have you been following me?”

“Not following, but watching. They’re very different thing. I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you know,” she tells me and watches my reaction.

“What is your name?” I demand again, feeling that familiar sharp prick of anger rising behind my eyes.

“My name is unimportant. You may call me Mistress.”

“Mistress?” I repeat and laugh, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be calling you that. Now please tell me your name so I have something to call you.”

She leans forward on the couch, crosses her ankles and stares me down. After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, I realize I have to capitulate to get anywhere with her.

I shuffled a few papers on my desk, look back at her and say, “Fine, Mistress it is. Now why are you here...Mistress?”

She licks her lips and leans back again, extends her beautiful legs and folds her hands on her lap. She is perfection and she knows it. That irritates me somehow and yet I can’t help but hang on her every word. The anticipation of her reply is coursing through my veins.

“I already told you,” she says in her low, melodic voice, “I am here because you have been wicked. I am here to punish you.”

I’m not that into BDSM. I like to tie people up and I am the consummate Dominant man if it comes right down to it...but the way she says it, in the mysterious accent, sends a thrill down my spine. I lean farther across the desk, look her in the eyes and say, “How are you planning on punishing me?”

TEASERS:

AUTHOR BIO:

Jaden is the pen name of a girl living on the prettiest farm in BC. She shares her space with her husband, her children, and an Irish Wolfhound named Tiberius. She can now be found lurking in the dark corners of the internet looking for artful porn gifs, dirty poems and places to promo her work.

JADEN'S BUY LINKS:

US AMAZON

UK AMAZON

CAN AMAZON

SMASHWORDS

KOBO

BARNES AND NOBLE

SCRIBD


CONNECT WITH JADEN!

| Goodreads | Facebook | Website | Email

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