Carmen Jenner Author - The Blog

The Way Back Home Cover Reveal and Giveaway

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Mon, 19 Dec 2016 23:05:00 +0000

Hiya Cupcakes.

I'm so excited to bring you the reveal for my upcoming Military Romance,

The Way Back Home,

created by the genius that is Ben Ellis from Be Designs.

A huge thank you to K Keeton Designs for such an incredible shoot, if you only knew how long I'd been stalking these photos, you'd have me committed. I swear I must have looked at them at least three times a day for about a year.

And thanks also to Tessi Le'Anne and Dustin Adams for being so damn pretty that I had no other choice but to put you on this cover.

THE WAY BACK HOME

is a standalone spin-off military romance set in the fictional southern town of Magnolia Falls.

While we first met Olivia in Toward the Sound of Chaos it's not necessary that you read that title first.

COVER REVEAL

Cover Design: Be Designs

Image Credit: Photographer: K Keeton Designs

Models: Tessi Le'Anne and Dustin Adams

Expected Publishing Date: February 2016

SYNOPSIS

August Cotton shouldn’t be here. When a tragic accident calls him home to Magnolia Falls, this returned veteran adds his parents to the list of things he’s lost in recent years, right along with his IED detection dog and his left leg. As the sole guardian of his four-year-old sister, August must rely on his Marine training in raising a tiny hellion who’s as stubborn as he is. But the Corps could never prepare him for this. Nor could they prepare him for Olivia Anders, a woman who’ll stop at nothing to get her way.

As owner of Paws for Cause, Olivia is no stranger to the broken men and women who return home from war. She’s no stranger to broken dogs either. In fact, she’s made it her mission to pair the two and enrich both of their lives, but pairing ornery and aloof August Cotton will take some work. The last thing August wants is some pushy southern woman occupying his parents’ bed and breakfast and forcing him to open up about the hell he narrowly escaped, but that’s exactly what Olivia intends.

They complete one another, and yet they can’t stand to be in the same room.

Can Olivia make this hardened Marine feel again and finally show his heart the way back home?

ADD TO GOODREADS

Pre-order links not available.

However, you can snap that baby up in February

exclusively through Kindle Unlimited and Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Super special THANK YOU to

Give Me Books

for hosting this reveal,
and to all the beautiful bloggers, readers, and authors who signed up to share these babies!

You guys rock my face off!

What do you think of the reveal?
Be a doll and drop me a line below.

Sugartown: The Collection Release Day Blitz and Cover Reveals

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Wed, 16 Nov 2016 14:00:00 +0000

Hiya Bunnies!

Eeeeek! It's finally here!

Earlier this month I celebrated my three-year indie publishing anniversary! Huzzah!

So much has happened within that time and I wanted to go back to the place it all started and revamp the Sugartown series, as well as give you guys a special little treat by putting all four books in the Sugartown series with a SMOKING HOT COVER and two bonus Sugartown scenes.

Firstly I want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to my darling non-husband Ben from Be Designs who created the most perfect covers to fit the series.

A super special thank you to Wander Aguiar, Lauren Watson Perry, and Sara Eirew for your stunning images, and a huge heroic THANK YOU to Give Me Books for hosting this reveal, and the beautiful bloggers who signed up to share these babies!

Cover Design:
Be Designs

Photo Credits:

Sugartown: The Collection: Wander Aguiar

Welcome to Sugartown: Perrywinkle Photography

Enjoy Your Stay: Sara Eirew

Greetings From Sugartown: Perrywinkle Photography

Now Leaving Sugartown: Sara Eirew

SYNOPSIS

Box set contains over 307,400 words, 123 chapters, and two bonus Sugartown short stories.

One would assume life in quiet Australian Sugartown would be sweet, but you know what they say about assumptions. Between a hotter than hell, tattooed, biker sex god, run-ins with the club, rock star baby daddies, trampy ex-lovers and old flames that refuse to be smothered, Sugartown is sweet—until it isn’t.

For the first time, you can read all four books in the hilarious, hot and addictively suspenseful Sugartown series. Box set includes: Welcome to Sugartown, Enjoy Your Stay, Greetings from Sugartown and Now Leaving Sugartown.

And you thought small towns were boring.

Welcome to Sugartown.

Warning: intended for a mature 18+ audience. Contains explicit sex, oodles of profanity, short-tempered Australian wildlife, and a crap-tonne of AWKWARD. Scenes from this series may be a trigger for certain readers.

PURCHASE LINKS

99c for one week only!!!

ADD TO GOODREADS

SUGARTOWN SERIES

The entire Sugartown Series now have

BRAND NEW COVERS

and can also be purchased individually

SYNOPSIS

Ana Belle never wanted anything more than to hang up her apron, jump on her Vespa and ride off into the sunset, leaving Sugartown in the dust.

Elijah Cade never wanted anything more than a hot meal, a side of hot arse and a soft place to lay his head at night where he could forget about his past.

But you know what they say about wanting: you always want what you can’t have.

Nineteen-year-old virgin Ana is about to discover that’s not quite true because a six foot three, hotter than hell, tattooed, Aussie sex god just rode into town. He’s had a taste of her pie and he wants more– no really, Ana bakes pies for a living, get your mind out of the gutter.

She’d be willing to hand over everything tied up in a big red bow, there’s just one problem; Elijah has secrets dirtier than last week’s underwear. Secrets that won't just break Ana’s heart, but put her life at risk, too. When those secrets come to light, their relationship is pushed to breaking point.

Add to that a psychotic nympho best friend, an overbearing father, a cuter than humanly possible kid brother, a wanton womanizing cousin, the ex from hell, and more pies than you could poke a ... err ... stick ... at.

And you thought small towns were boring.

Welcome to Sugartown

Content Warning: Intended for a mature 18+ audience. Contains explicit sex, oodles of profanity and a crap-tonne of AWKWARD.

PURCHASE LINKS

AMAZON US | UK | CA | AU

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

ADD TO GOODREADS

SYNOPSIS

The last thing Holly Harris expected was to wind up nineteen, knocked-up, and all alone. When Coop left to pursue his dreams of becoming a rock god, he left a tiny piece of him behind.

Holly wishes he hadn’t.
Jackson wishes he hadn’t.

Jackson Rowe tried filling the void his family left by drinking, screwing around, and leaving a string of heartbroken women in his wake. Moving back to Sugartown should have been easy, but he hadn’t counted on the fact his sometimes attraction to Holly would still be alive and kicking—and he sure as hell hadn’t counted on her being pregnant with another man’s baby.

They drive one another crazy, and yet they can’t stay away.

When old flames resurface, and even older wounds are torn open, can two people so similar make it work? Or will their stubbornness only drive them further apart?

Content Warning. Intended for a mature 18+ audience. Contains angst, a crap-tonne of profanity, short-tempered Australian wildlife, and some very pregnant sex.

PURCHASE LINKS

AMAZON US | UK | CA | AU

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

ADD TO GOODREADS

SYNOPSIS

Life in Sugartown hasn't always been easy, not for an ex-con like Elijah, and certainly not for Ana, who grew up desperate for a way out.

Meeting Elijah changed all that; Elijah changed a lot of things.

You’d think that after three years together and the worst behind them that life would be a walk in the park, but Sugartown’s sexiest couple may be about to face their biggest obstacles yet.

Between failed marriage proposals, a trampy ex-lover and a tempting new biker, Sugartown is suddenly not so sweet.

They’re head-over-heels in love. It should be simple—but it rarely is.

Will they make it down the aisle to the happy ever after they deserve? Or are some relationships just destined to fail?

Intended for an 18+ audience. Contains explicit sex, violence, a crap-tonne of profanity, and naked encounters with disastrous outcomes.

PURCHASE LINKS

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

ADD TO GOODREADS

SYNOPSIS

Pepper Ryan grew up the troublesome, spoiled child of a rock god. With her less-than-stellar parentage, and the bipolar disorder that has plagued her existence, to say this little firecracker is a handful would be the understatement of the century.

Sammy Belle spent more than half his life saving Pepper. He’d been her strength, her sanity, and the protective brotherly figure she never wanted to have.

They were never meant to be together.

They gave in anyway.

And just when Sammy thought he had everything he wanted, Pepper ran.

Now twenty-three, Pepper returns to Sugartown, a failed tattoo artist with one too many screws loose who’s down on her luck, wielding an ice cream van as beaten up as her heart.

Sugartown’s most coveted bachelor has always been content with the quiet life he leads until Pepper, the hellion from his past, returns to test his strength, his patience, and perhaps even his sanity. But two can play at that game, and Pepper is about to learn that Sam can give as good as he gets.

Can this good country boy survive Pepper’s cruel city world, or will the whole thing be put down to a bout of temporary insanity?

One thing is for certain:

He’s crazy about her.

She’s just crazy.

Warning: Intended for an 18+ audience. Contains sexual content, oodles of profanity, a firefighter so hot you may need a very cold shower, and one pink-haired crazy Harajuku girl. May also contain traces of nuts. Some scenes within this book may be a trigger for certain readers.

PURCHASE LINKS

AMAZON US | UK | CA | AU

iBooks | B&N | Kobo

ADD TO GOODREADS

What did you guys think of the Sugartown's new look?
Be a doll and drop me a line below if you're in love with them as much as I am!

My Radio Interview with E.M. Abel and Kelli Jean! #COPATalk - Episode 27 Carmen Jenner

noreply@blogger.com (Ben Ellis) — Sat, 05 Nov 2016 03:11:00 +0000

E.M. Abel and Kelli Jean talk to me!

We discuss my latest release, Harley & Rose, as well as my body of work and all things Aussie: like deadly spiders and snakes and the non-husband! OH MY! Listen below.

Toward the Sound of Chaos Chapter Reveal

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Wed, 18 May 2016 01:14:00 +0000

Hiya Cupcakes.
I'm so excited to reveal the first chapter of my heart wrenching Military Romance,
Toward the Sound of Chaos,
available May 18th.

BLURB

Toward the Sound of Chaos

Jake Tucker is broken. At twenty-two, he went in to the Marine Corps a naïve, troubled youth. Nine years and four tours later, Jake finds himself back on US soil, though his mind remains firmly planted in the sands of Afghanistan with the men he left behind.

Wounded, chewed up and spat out by war, Jake has only his dog, Nuke, PTSD, and survivor’s guilt to keep him company. He’s lived every day for nine years wondering when it will be his last, but there’s little comfort in the fact that he’s still standing when his platoon isn’t.

Ellie Mason doesn’t have time for broken. She’s too busy trying to put food on the table. And keeping up with the demands of her autistic son, Spencer, is sometimes like fighting behind enemy lines. As if navigating the minefields of single parenthood isn’t enough, Ellie finds herself drawn to the quiet Marine who’s just as lonely as she is. But she’s loved damaged men before, and it left her wounded.

Set against the picturesque backdrop of Fairhope, Alabama, Ellie and Jake find themselves running toward the sound of chaos.

Love is war.

Only the strong survive, and surrender is inevitable.

TOWARD THE SOUND OF CHAOS

Chapter One

Ellie

“Come on, come on.” I turn the key in the ignition, prayin’ it will spark to life before I choke the living bejeebies outta it. My car, the evil spawn of Satan that it is, coughs, sputters, and dies, and I slam my hands against the steering wheel as I scream, “Stupid piece of crap chunk of metal.”

“Mamma swore,” Spencer drawls from the backseat.

“I know, I know.” I rest my head against the wheel and wish I could have a complete do-over.

“Piece of crap, piece of crap, piece of crap,” Spencer singsongs, getting louder with each word. I turn my head and glare at him. He promptly shuts up.

Good Lord. Why in the world did this have to happen today of all days? I only just got Spencer dressed and out the door in time for our morning walk around the duck pond—which I had to hurry him through as if the devil himself was chasing us—and now we’re not only going to be late for school but I’m going to miss the whole damn reason I get dressed each morning, fix my hair, and try and look cute when all I really want to do is put on my robe and fluffy slippers, and leave my hair à la bird’s nest while I grip my travel coffee mug for dear life.

Desperate for some kind of miracle, I turn the key again and it backfires. Spencer starts hollerin’ in the backseat about it being a “No!” sound, his hands pressed to his ears.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, and fumble with the radio to find a channel that’s not running commercials. He hates those. I settle on one with a song that he actually likes and the screamin’ stops so I turn back to the road and check the dash for the time—8:32 A.M.

I take hold of the key, close my eyes and promise the man upstairs that I’ll contribute to the church bake sale this year in exchange for one little itty bitty favor. A beat later the engine roars to life. I let out a whoop and peel out of the parking space along North Beach Road.

Like clockwork he emerges from the walking trail at the end of the street, wearing black Nikes, black shorts, and a fitted grey Henley that sticks to every plane and angle of hard-won muscle. How he runs in full sleeves in the summertime is beyond me, but as sweat plasters that shirt to his body like a second skin, I am not complaining. His dog, a monstrous black thing with a shiny coat—that looks more like a wolf than any other breed I’ve seen—runs alongside him, tethered to his waist by a long lead fastened to his belt loop. The dog also wears a vest—Marine camouflage with the words Veteran Service Dog embroidered on the side.

Obviously I didn’t get all this from just one glimpse. It’s more like an accumulative set of glimpses over let’s say a period of about ten months. Give or take. That thing I was talking about earlier? The reason for me brushing my hair each morning? Well, I’m looking at it.

“Good Morning, hot Marine,” I whisper, and of course my son’s ears prick up. Spencer may only be eight, but he can tell you every statistic worth knowing about every war in history. He is fanatical. Especially about Marines.

Spencer is special. At two, he was diagnosed with Autism and Sensory Processing Disorder. I knew there was something very wrong with his behavior. He didn’t laugh like he had as a baby; he couldn’t handle crowds, fairs, or the farmer’s market, and playgroup was completely out of the question. He stopped speaking for a whole year, just out of the blue. Scared me half to death. His pediatrician said I should encourage some of the things he took an interest in. He’d been like a sponge when it came to anything military-related, and I’d worked for months to afford a trip to Mobile for the weekend where we could visit Fort Gaines, Fort Morgan, and the USS Alabama. He spent the whole time riding a high of processed sugars while he took it all in with excited whimpers and not-so-gentle taps at my thigh. I’ve been saving up my pennies to take him again, but it hasn’t happened yet.

“That’s Jake Tucker,” Spencer says, just like clockwork. I think the excitement of seeing this recluse Marine is just as much a part of his morning routine as it is mine. For different reasons, of course.

“That’s Jake Tucker,” I agree, somewhat wistfully, and I put my foot down on the gas so that we’ll be at the optimal spot for staring at those dark eyes and that emotionless face hidden by all that hair and beard as he runs along North Beach Road. Again, the eyes aren’t something I know of so much from seeing them up close—because I don’t think he’s ever looked in my direction a day in his life—it’s more from seeing the various news reports on TV and the paper and magazine clippings from my son’s collections of Marine scrapbooks. I never could tell if they were black or dark blue.

Three, two, one. His heel leaves the footbridge over the duck pond and we’re moving toward one another. Time is suspended in the nanosecond it takes me to drive past him and his dog.

And then it’s gone. I keep driving, glancing between the road and my rear-view mirror. My eyes roam over his butt, like they do every day, and then I notice a black smudge on the back of his leg. I move closer to the mirror, squinting my eyes in order to see better.

“Mamma, look out!”

“Hold on Spence,” I scream, as I try to take control of the wildly spinning wheel and my poor little car careens through Beach Park, beside the duck pond, and comes to a stomach-turning, metal-screeching halt between the footbridge and one very large tree.

My head smacks off the steering wheel and nausea rolls over me like a tide as I turn to check on Spence. I catalog his limbs and head, all intact and no blood. “You okay, baby?”

“Mamma, you don’t look so good,” Spencer says.

“I’m fine,” I murmur, sounding drunk. I open and shut my eyes a bit, and the little green numbers on the dash come into focus. 8: 35 A.M. and already this day couldn’t get any worse.

I close my eyes and lean against the wheel, and then the sound of Spencer’s door opening wakes me and I spin around in my seat so fast you’d swear I was possessed.

“You’re Jake Tucker,” my son says.

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m Spencer Mason. That’s my mamma, Ellie Mason.”

“Sit tight, ma’am.” His gruff voice fills the tiny cab of my car. I turn my head again to see what he’s doing, but everything goes black. “I’ll get you out.”

“I’m fine,” I say, turning back to the door. I open it and attempt to get out of the car, but something stops me. I glance down, clumsily yanking on the seatbelt restraining me, but his face is there in my space. His whole body is as he leans over to unbuckle my seatbelt.

I climb out of the vehicle, but halfway to straightening to my full height of a meagre little five-feet, one-inch, I get woozy in the stomach and wobbly in the boot, and I sag against the car as Jake Tucker leans into me, his warm breath on my face.

“I got you.”

“Blue eyes,” I mumble.

“What?” he says. I didn’t expect his voice to be so low, gravelly. Sexy. It sounds like warm whiskey on a cold winter’s day.

“Blue eyes and whiskey lullabies,” I say, my head rolling back against the car door rather drunkenly. I must have hit it harder than I thought. “I knew they were blue.”

He stares at me as if I’m completely crazy. “I think you have a concussion.”

“I’m fine.” I attempt to push off the car, but the big sweaty wall of muscle stops me from going anywhere. He grips my shoulders hard, as if his hands are the only thing keeping me upright.

“My purse,” I shout, turning back to my door. He tightens his hold and stops me from going anywhere. “I need to call Olivia to come get us.” I look down at Spence who watches us closely and the world twists on its side, my stomach clenches, and I puke all over Jake Tucker.

Since he came back from the war a year ago, I’ve imagined meeting this recluse mountain man in a number of ways: down at the Piggly Wiggly, at the Coffee Loft, and even right here in this very park. What I hadn’t imagined upon first meeting Jake Tucker was that I would mumble some gibberish about his eyes and how his voice sounds like a whiskey lullaby, and then puke all down his shirt. I hadn’t imagined falling into said puke-covered shirtfront either, but I do. Right before I pass out.

You know when you think to yourself that this day couldn’t possibly get any worse? You’d be wrong. The universe always has a way of slappin’ you upside the head and showing you just how much worse it can really get.

Pre-order available exclusively on Amazon
and KU:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon CA
Amazon AU

ADD TO GOODREADS

Toward the Sound of Chaos Cover Reveal

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Wed, 13 Apr 2016 14:00:00 +0000

Hiya Cupcakes.
Ready for another stunningly gorgeous cover from
By Hang Le?
This woman just gets it.
I give her a whole bunch of mish mosh ideas of what I think I want and she creates something so perfect, and so completely unexpected, and far superior.
She's every author's dream to work with and I'm so excited to reveal the incredible cover she created for my upcoming Military Romance
Toward the Sound of Chaos.
You can Read the story of how TSoC came to be here.
but for now take a look at the beauty down below.
COVER REVEAL

Expected Publishing Date: 18^thMay 2016

BLURB

Toward the Sound of Chaos

Set against the picturesque backdrop of Fairhope, Alabama, Ellie and Jake find themselves running toward the sound of chaos.

Love is war.

Only the strong survive, and surrender is inevitable.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Pre-order links not available
However you can snap that baby up May 18th
Exclusive to Kindle Unlimited and Amazon.

Super special thanks to TRSoR Promotions for hosting the cover reveal, and to all the bloggers, readers and authors for sharing the TSoC love!
If you'd like to help in sharing the word on release day feel free to sign up for the Release Day Blitz here.

Toward the Sound of Chaos Book Blurb and Teaser Reveal

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Thu, 31 Mar 2016 13:00:00 +0000

Hiya Bunnies.
Today I'm super excited to release the blurb and first official teasers of my upcoming project,
Toward the Sound of Chaos.
An author's mind is a very busy little place. You could be driving through some podunk town in the middle of bumfuck Australia, just minding your own business, and WHAM!
Inspiration hits.
Toward the Sound of Chaos snuck up on me, put me in a chokehold, and didn't let go.
One moment I was sitting in my lounge room with the non-husband, and the next?
Welcome to Fairhope, Alabama, people.
Hours upon hours of research, watching countless war documentaries, and more movies with Hot Marines—sadly, not those kind of movies—than you could poke a stick at later and I'm knee deep in Ellie and Jake's story and I don't ever want to leave.
I hope you won't either, because I can't wait to share this book with you.
Beautiful Hang from By Hang Le created the most perfect cover I could ever imagine for Jake and Ellie. The woman is a genius!
The cover reveal will be hosted by TRSoR Promotions on April 14th so be sure to check out their page for the sign up.
Now, let's get to the fun part, shall we?

Expected Publishing Date: 18^thMay 2016

BLURB

Toward the Sound of Chaos

Set against the picturesque backdrop of Fairhope, Alabama, Ellie and Jake find themselves running toward the sound of chaos.

Love is war.

Only the strong survive, and surrender is inevitable.

ADD TO GOODREADS

Pre-order links not yet available

Finding North is Live!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Thu, 25 Feb 2016 10:16:00 +0000

Jumping Jinkies am I excited for this release?
When I set out to write this book it was a for a few different reasons: because I wanted the challenge, and I needed a break from the heavy world of my Savage Saints MC.
While I love those bikers right down to the tips of their very corrupt, calloused fingers, believe it or not writing about bloodshed, torture, rape, and a strung out, drug addicted victim of child abuse with no desire to get clean—who also happens to be a club whore—will take a toll on your psyche. Who knew the one per centers of the biker world wouldn't be all rainbows and butterflies?
Anywhoo, my first thoughts on Finding North were, "I'm going to do something completely different for me and write a steamy, lighthearted M/M standalone."
Yeah ... not so much.
While Finding North certainly is steamy, it's definitely not lighthearted.
There's a reason for this—other than my love of gripping my readers by the feels and shaking them until they surrender all their tears to me—it's because, sadly, for all our advances and forward thinking, some of us still happen to be a little bit stuck on the whole, "You can't choose who you fall in love with" thing.
I couldn't write this story without highlighting what life is like for men and women in small towns in Australia, and all over the world, who struggle daily to come to terms with who they are and whether they are enough, and so Finding North was born.
Love isn't a dirty word.
Homophobia is.
#LoveIsLove
I hope you guys enjoy Will and North as much as I have loved bringing them to life!

Red Maine’s blue-collared bad boy, North Underwood, has a dirty little secret—Will Tanner.
Friends since kindergarten, North had been the one to jump first, and his fall into Will’s bed ten years ago had been no exception. Will and North had been inseparable, but things change, people grow apart, and even a blazing flame can dwindle to a dying ember over time.

The more things change the more they stay the same.

After a run in with a bottle of Bundy rum, Will and North find themselves in a compromising and all too familiar position.

Blurred lines, bad decisions, and one wrong foot after another lead these two down a spiral of sarcasm, secrets, and sex, but when North’s hetero status is called into question he can’t figure up from down. And despite Will telling himself he wouldn’t fall again, he’s head over heels and wandering without a compass.

Love is love.
Love is truth.
Love … shouldn’t be this damn hard to figure out.

EXCERPT

“Relax, Will,” he says, smoothing my cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like?”
I swallow hard, and close my eyes. If only he knew. If only he had some idea of how long I’ve wanted this.
No.
I shove my hands against his chest. He stumbles back and catches himself before he can lose his footing. I take a step towards the door and find myself thrust up against it. North clutches my arm, and twists it painfully behind my back.
“I know what you want, Will, and I know it isn’t pussy. It’s cock,” he whispers the last in my ear, sending a shudder down my spine.
I shake my head and whimper, “No.”
“Yes.” His hot breath on my neck sends all my senses into overdrive, making me fucking crazy. I grind my erection against the door and moan, desperate to relieve the ache. “Let me do this, and you’ll know for sure.”
“Know what?” I hiss, struggling. He grasps the nape of my neck and holds me in place, my cheek firmly pressed against the wood.
“You’ll know if that’s what you are.” North buries his face in my neck and licks the salt from my skin. “And you can finally stop torturing yourself.”

NOW AVAILABLE
99 CENT RELEASE
(Last day! Price will go up to $2.99 after release day)
AMAZON
iBOOKS
Kobo
B&N
OR PICK UP THE PAPERBACK FOR JUST $12.99
Add to goodreads

Spend this Valentine's Day with Two Hot Blooded Aussie Alpha-holes.

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sun, 14 Feb 2016 11:07:00 +0000

Happy Valentine's Day, love bunnies!

Have I got something sweet for you?
While there's still another week and five days to go until Finding North hits your e-reader I thought I'd spread the Valentine's love like a hooker with VD this year and give you guys a taste of my boys.
After all, two cocks are better than one.
Scroll down to read the Prologue and a little teaser of the first chapter.

Red Maine’s blue-collared bad boy, North Underwood, has a dirty little secret—Will Tanner.

Friends since kindergarten, North had been the one to jump first, and his fall into Will’s bed ten years ago had been no exception. Will and North had been inseparable, but things change, people grow apart, and even a blazing flame can dwindle to a dying ember over time.

The more things change the more they stay the same.

After a run in with a bottle of Bundy rum, Will and North find themselves in a compromising and all too familiar position.

Blurred lines, bad decisions, and one wrong foot after another lead these two down a spiral of sarcasm, secrets, and sex, but when North’s hetero status is called into question he can’t figure up from down. And despite Will telling himself he wouldn’t fall again, he’s head over heels and wandering without a compass.

Love is love.
Love is truth.
Love … shouldn’t be this damn hard to figure out.

PROLOGUE

Eighteen Years Ago

Will

“You comin’?” North says, looking back at me from the edge of the cliff. Sweat glistens on his naked torso and his blond hair is lit up like a halo by the sun. I squeeze my eyes closed, burning the image into the back of my lids. I stand as far from the edge as the rail at my back will allow. Cold ocean spray hits my face even from this high up, and even with my eyes closed I feel woozy as the sun beats down on my back and shoulders.

North’s feet thud on the sunburnt grass towards me. His hand cradles mine. Springing my eyes open wide, I stare down as he pries my fingers from their tightly fisted position at my side. My best friend threads our hands together and his gaze meets mine, and with the madness of a hundred devils written all over his face in the form of his crooked grin, white teeth, and mischievous cool blue eyes, his message is clear without ever saying a thing: Don’t you dare let go.

I don’t wanna let go. I don’t wanna be chicken shit. The other kids watch us from the water below, and even though all I want to do is run in the other direction, when North jumps, I follow.

I always have.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No.” My heart squeezes and skips a beat.

North runs, pulling me along with him. My feet dig into the rocky edge of the bluff, and then there’s nothing but air beneath them. I’m freefalling, his hand laced with mine. His face is a mixture of panic and joy, and I know mine is the same because both emotions war within me.

I hope I always feel like this. I want to always be right where we are now, my hand in his, freefalling. Not into the water, but into one another.

But even twelve-year-old me knows that once North finds out my secret, this feeling, these butterflies torpedoing inside my gut, will all be ripped away, replaced with thorns, fear, hatred, and ugly words.

So I commit to memory his face, his tanned skin and golden hair, the bright blue eyes that appear haunted with sadness almost as much as they swarm with excitement, and the way I feel with his hand in mine.

I lock those things inside me, and I won’t ever let them go.

Not even if he does.

Will

“Gimme another,” North demands, slamming the empty glass down on my bar. He reeks of Jack. The tight set to his jaw and his steely blue gaze tell me he’s looking for a fight. He won’t get one here, because apart from Phil—a harmless old drunk perched on the edge of his stool at the end of the bar—North and me are the only sorry bastards left. And I gave up fighting with him a long time ago.

“Another,” he slurs. I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the counter opposite him.

“Time to go home, mate,” I say with a grin that I know will rub him in all the wrong ways. Or the right ones, depending on how you look at it. Maybe I lied about fighting with him.

I’ll admit, there’s a sick, twisted part of me that takes great delight in nights like this. They don’t happen often. It’s pretty rare for him to stay at the pub until closing, but once every six months—maybe more, if I’m lucky—North Underwood drinks himself into an angry stupor in my bar.

“I’m not your mate,” he sneers.

“Fine. Time to go, arsehole.” I tuck my septum piercing away, because if it comes down to punches being thrown, that shit’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker if it gets ripped out.

Once, North would have sat at the bar while I worked, and we’d have flung empty insults back and forth. I’d have poured him drinks and listened to him bitch about his dad, or his hard day scrubbing down decks and painting hulls while working in the boatyard, and he’d have complained about how his latest conquest was withholding pussy because she wanted more of a commitment from him. During all of this, I would have secretly pined and wished for a way to make my best friend forget pussy altogether.

Once, we’d done all those things. Though looking at the red-faced, angry drunk across from me now, I’m reminded that once was a long time ago. And now our lives were very different.

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Happy Holidays from me and the Savage Saints MC

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sun, 27 Dec 2015 09:56:00 +0000

Hiya my naughty little Elves, and Merry Christmas!
I wanted to say a huge THANK YOU to all of my readers for your love and support this year.
2015 was such an incredible year for me with the release of four super fun (read: crazy, taxing, heartrending, gut-wrenching, nerve-racking and lovable) books released, the completion of my Sugartown series and the beginning of both the Taint and Savage Saints MC series.
2016 will see a lot more books from me, starting with my upcoming standalone M/M contemporary romance, Finding North, which releases on Feb 25th. We'll catch up with those hot Aussie rock stars from Taint and those deliciously devious bikers that make up the Savage Saints MC.

In order to thank you for all the love you've thrown my way I wanted you guys to be the first to see the Savage Saints MC Christmas Special I wrote for the Glass Paper Ink Book Blog's Christmas Extravaganza

Be sure to check out the rest of the stories at the link above!

A Savage Saints MC
X-mas

TANK

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, watching Crazy through the window of my cabin as he empties an entire bottle of lighter fluid onto the BBQ. He strikes a match and throws it on the heap of charcoal and skitters back, hooting as if though all his fuckin’ Christmases have come at once when the thing erupts into a burst flames that reach for the midday sky.

I growl, but my focus is quickly drawn to the two idiots firing off bullets into the woods in an effort to hit some cardboard cut-out of Santa taped to a tree. Grim hits the fat bastard right between the eyes and holds out a hand for Killer to pay up. I take long deep breaths through my nose and look around my tiny cabin that’s filled to bursting with my club brothers.

Ordinarily, we do this shit at the Prez’s house and come Christmas night there isn’t a fuckin’ surface of that place left untouched by vomit, blood or some other bodily fluid. But since I still can’t ride with my hands all jacked up, and Jett is insisting on keeping two guys stationed here to protect Ivy and me from the fucking Russians that are jonesing bad for my balls, this year every bastard and their dog wound up at my place.

As if on cue, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking and enjoys taking the piss outta me, Ma pats my cheek and smiles. “It’s so nice to see this place teeming with life.”

Yes, even my mum made it to Christmas.

Deck the fuckin’ halls.

I need a serious drink. I need to see my Warrior Princess’ pretty little mouth choking down my dick, and I need all of these bastards out of my goddamn house. There’s a reason I live this far out. It’s ’cause I don’t like people. Fuckin’ period. And every one of these motherfuckers is gettin’ on my last fuckin’ nerve.

Except my Ma, and Ivy—which makes a nice change because much as I worship the damn ground she walks on, most days I wanna kill the bitch.

The roar of another bike up the unsealed drive has my brows drawing together. The only brother missing is Kick, because I left that arsehole in charge of aiding me in playing Santa for Ivy this year. She’d been houndin’ me all day for clues about her present, and all day I’d been tellin’ her she had to wait like all good girls.

So when I look out the window and see Kick on his bike, and not in the club van like we talked about, I take a deep motherfuckin’ breath and count to ten, and I open the door leading down to the garage as he shuts off the engine.

Thundering down the stairs and heading off the bastard before he can make his way into the house, I snap, “Did you get it?”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you too, arsehole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave him off and fold my arms over my chest. “Did you get the fuckin’ goods or not?”

“Yes, I got it. Do you have any fuckin' idea how difficult it was to cart that shit along on my bike? I almost died. Several times," Kick says, as he pulls out his smokes and lights up, inhaling and then blowing a cloud of stinking chemicals into my face.

“What do you mean cart it on your bike? Where the fuck is it? Is someone else bringing it in the van?” I say, running my hand through my hair. It needs a cut, badly, but I know Ivy wants me to grow it long, the way it was when we first met. I don’t know if it’ll ever get there, ’cause every arsehole and his bitch are making me so fuckin’ crazy I wind up tugging it outta my scalp. “Did you leave it at the clubhouse?”

“Jesus, you need to chill the fuck out." The arsehole grins. It's obvious he's enjoin' this shit. "You’re like a bitch on the rag.”

“Where is it, Kick?”

He tilts his head in the direction of the Night Rod parked inside my garage. I used to own one of these babies, until Kick ‘borrowed’ it from me a couple years back and totaled the fucking thing. Bike never was big enough for me anyway.

The saddlebag moves. I frown but head toward it, failing to understand what the hell is going on here. I lean down and open the leather flap, and a teeny tiny little blue‑grey head pops out. It’s all squashed up nose, and big blue eyes, and ears for fuckin’ days.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask.

“It’s a dog, dumbarse.”

“That’s not a dog, that’s a rat.” I pull the vermin in question out of the saddlebag and hold it at arm’s length. It squirms to get closer, its fat belly straining against my hands. Chubby little legs kick the air between us, and his pink tongue desperately licks at nothing as if it could propel him closer.

“It’s a puppy.” Kick shrugs. “French Bulldog pup, or some shit.”

“I don’t want a fuckin’ pup. I wanted a dog. A big‑arse mean, vicious Pitbull, you’ve given me a fucking rat. Take it back.”

“I can’t take it back.” Kick smirks. “It’s not just for Christmas, it’s for life.”

“Just ring the shelter where you got him and tell them you made a mistake,” I say. The rodent in question lets out a yip, and I direct my gaze back to it. His little mouth yawns, showing two rows of perfect sharp teeth and he stops wriggling in my hands and whines.

He is kinda cute. For a rodent.

I shake my head and glare at Kick. “I thought I said no puppies?”

“Listen, it’s Christmas, brother. That Pitbull you wanted had gone already, and the chick at the shelter was hot.” He scrubs his hand over his beard. He looks like a fucking mountain man: Shaggy, ratty‑arse hair, and a full beard, not just a little stubble, it’s like his facial hair has declared an all-out friggin’ war on his face. He looks like shit. Has for months, since that bitch walked away. “She handed me the only other blue dog they had, and he smelled all sweet, and … I don’t fucking know, new and shiny and shit.”

“You pussy‑arsed bitch. You fell for the cute puppy routine?” I ask, and set the little shit on the ground. He jumps around my boots, nips at my ankles and lets out a playful little bark. When I ignore him, he waddles over to Kick and that cockhead is putty in the mutt’s paws. “That stray of yours really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, or I’ll do it for you,” he warns. I don’t know what the hell happened there. He saved the bitch, and then fell in love with her. He swore to protect her, and he did. He killed every last motherfucker who did her wrong, but he didn’t hold on to her. He let her walk, and he’s been miserable ever since.

That makes fuckin’ two of us.

Between the shit with Ivy’s dad, Butch dying, losing the use of my hands for several months, and seeing the closest brother I have to family drinking himself into an early grave, this year can bite my big hairy balls. This Christmas is no fuckin’ picnic for any of us.

The club lost two members these past few months, and it’s left us wounded. One Eye betrayed us, and his death was way too fucking easy for my liking, and Squeals was just a baby. A fat‑shit of a prospect who was so fucking terrified of his own shadow he’d squeal like a little piggy when something bad went down. Bad shit always went down in the MC. It wasn’t goddamn rocket science. You play with the Saints, and no matter how big and scary you think you are, at some point, you're gonna wind up screamin' for your mamma. From there, you got two options: you either wind up dead or you wish you were.

Losing a patch and a prospect could be crippling for a club. Who we lost didn’t mean shit. No one cried at Squeals’ funeral—none of the brothers, anyway—and One Eye was a traitor who got a bullet to the head and a shallow grave inside a burnt out cop car. It’s what we lost that matters. Numbers. Ours are dwindling. We’re down members, we’re vulnerable, especially without me being back on the job.

I know Prez can’t afford the manpower he has stationed here, which brings me back to the fact that I need a fuckin’ guard dog. When I found out Butch had met his untimely end, I swore I’d never get another dog. But I need protection because I ain’t livin’ through another fuckin’ day of seeing Ivy tortured.

“You can’t take it back,” Kick says, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it out with his boot. “I know what this is about, and you don’t need a vicious Pitbull or a Rottweiler or any other dog, you need to teach Ivy how to defend herself.”

“How am I gonna do that?” I say raising my hands, which are still stiff and causing me grief even after the casts were removed a couple weeks ago. “I can’t fucking grip the handlebars of my bike properly, much less teach the bitch to fight.”

“Let me teach her.”

“No fucking way,” I say through my teeth. I love Kick like family, but he and Ivy have a very long, very painful history, and the thought of the two of them together: sweating, adrenaline pumping, bodies colliding on the gym mats as they spar, sets my blood to boiling point. He might be hung up on that Indie bitch, but he ain’t turning down pussy like Ivy’s because he’s a little heartsore. And though I trust my little Warrior Princess, I know she’s human. She’s prone to giving in to vices, just like the rest of us, and she has one hell of an addictive personality. Kick didn’t just aid her coke addition, he encouraged it.

“Why the hell not?”

“Listen, she’s been doin’ good.”

“I know. So what?” Kick shrugs and bends down, scooping the dog up and letting the little germ-infested fucker lick his face.

“So I don’t need you fuckin’ all that up for me.”

He grins. “How could I possibly fuck that up for you, brother?”

“No more fucking games, Kick. She loved you once. You fed her addiction for years. You’re a trigger for her.”

“I was a trigger for her," he says, shaking his head. “I was her fucking executioner, you were her saviour, and now I’m nothin’ to no one. You ain’t gotta worry about Ivy around me, brother.”

I know he’s right, this isn’t the first time he’s seen Ivy since she got clean. He’s been around a few times. The most recent being two days ago, when he picked Ma up from her house and brought her here to the cabin. Besides, the bitch accepted my bloody proposal. I am one fucking lucky bastard. I know that, but I can’t let go of all the shit I’ve seen happen between the two of them. Yeah I know, I coulda stepped up sooner. I only have myself to blame for that, but like I said, she loved him once, and a part of me is terrified that she’ll discover I was a means to an end, and that she’ll go skipping back to my club brothers to give her everything I can’t provide.

Kick runs his hands over his face. Goddamn, he looks like shit. Dark circles line his eyes, and he’s pasty as a sheet. “Jesus. You’re really fuckin’ hung up on the stray, huh?”

“Yeah, turns out you can’t save a girl from a sick twisted motherfucker without falling in love with her.”

I laugh humorlessly, “Tell me about it. What are you doing to get her back?”

“Nothin’. I tired.” He scratches the pup’s ear. His pink tongue lolls out to the side. “She don’t want me.”

“You ever think maybe she just needs some time to get over what the hell happened to her? Maybe she’d have been better off if you’d let me put a bullet in her that day in the warehouse.”

“Don’t.” His hands tremble, as they work over the dog’s soft fur. Kick went and got himself all tied up in knots over a pretty little piece of arse.

Dumb fuck.

Not that I was any different. I fell for junkie club whore whose psychotic father almost killed us both. And then I asked the bitch to fuckin’ marry me.

I need my head checked. We both do.

“Well, the way I see it, if she ain’t coming back to you then you got two options brother. One, you kidnap the bitch.” He just looks at me. And yeah, maybe suggesting that he kidnap a rape victim … again—because he held her once against her will—isn’t the best idea. “Or two, you fucking forget about her.”

“Don’t you think I damn well tried?”

I tilt my chin toward the fucked up piece of jewelry on his finger. “You’re wearing her tooth like it’s a goddamn talisman to ward away evil, you ain’t tryin’ hard enough.”

“Don’t fuckin’ start on me, Tank. Not today. You wanna talk about the junkie bitch you got playin’ house upstairs?”

“That bitch, is gonna be my wife," I blurt out. His expression goes blank, and for a beat, I think my words haven't registered, but his lips finally twist into a grin. He shakes his head, and I find myself grinning like a fuckin’ fool.

Admitting that out loud to my brother—to this brother—feels like a ten-tonne weight has just been lifted from my shoulders.

“You sly fuckin’ dog,” he says, closing the distance between us. Kick pulls me into a one‑armed embrace, careful not to squash the pup, and he slaps me on the back. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“’Cause you were caught up in your own shit. I told Ma last night. I think she almost beat the shit outta me for not telling her sooner. I also got an arse whopping for not giving Ivy a ring.”

“You proposed without a ring?”

“Shut the fuck up, I had two broken hands at the time, and I was busted up to all shit. I couldn’t wipe my fucking arse by myself, much less shop for a ring. Even now I still can’t ride. I had to get that little arsehole Crazy to drive me into the city to buy one a couple weeks back.”

I fish a piece of black ribbon out of my leathers along with the ring box and open it. I’d pulled it out of the safe earlier, and I’ve been carrying it around since. I had plans to hang the ring from around the neck of our new dog—not puppy, but dog—and smack his hindquarters to send him upstairs to Ivy. I’m gonna need a new plan.

Kick whistles. “That’s no ordinary ring.”

“She ain’t an ordinary girl.”

He laughs. “No, she’s not.”

“Tank?” Ivy calls from the top of the stairs.

Shit.

“Just a second, babe,” I shout. My tone is all off on account of me being startled. Not many people get the jump on me. I know she won’t be happy with the attitude I just gave her, so no doubt she’ll come stalking down the stairs to tell me all about it.

“Stall her,” I mouth to Kick, as I snatch the dog off him. I keep my back to the staircase and yank the ring from the box, threading it onto the black ribbon and tie it around the little fucker’s neck—not without great difficulty. I snap the box closed and shove it down the front of my leathers. She’s used to me bulging out around her like I can’t contain my‑fuckin’‑self, so she won’t pay it too much attention. The pup, however, is determined to blow our cover, because he’s growling and twisting in my arms in an attempt to the chew at the ribbon around his neck. I ignore it and keep my back to the doorway.

Ivy runs down the stairs, she’s was obviously expecting to find me alone, because she fumbles over her words. “K … Kick. I didn’t know you were here.”

I can’t stand with my back to her all day, and I turn to search her expression because I can’t make out whether or not she’s happy to see him by her tone of voice.

Kick tilts his chin in her direction. “’Sup, darlin’?”

She gives him a tight smile and turns her full attention to me. She screams when she notices the wiggling fur ball in my hands. “Holy shit, you bought me a puppy?”

She doesn’t even wait for an answer, just snatches the thing out of my hands. That’s when I notice that the ribbon has come loose.

Oh, fuck.

I’m desperately scanning the floor, my leathers, my boots, the space between Ivy and me when I realise that the little shit went and did it. That little fur ball fucker ate my goddamn ring.

“No, no, no!” I shout.

Ivy frowns, holding the dog away from her face so she can give me a disappointed glare. “No, you didn’t get me a puppy?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I yell, and point to Kick. “This is your fault.”

“What the fuck are you bitching about now?” Kick says, blowing a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

“The puppy ate the fucking ring, dumbarse.” For a moment, Kick pales. The laughter starts softly, like something caught in his throat, and then he’s bent double slapping his knee as he chuckles at my expense. I glance at Ivy. Her gaze is sliding back and forth between Kick and me.

“You bought me a ring and a puppy?”

“Happy Christmas, Princess.” I shrug. Ivy throws herself at me, squishing the little rodent between her perfect tits and my hard chest. I glare down at his arsehole puppy face and find myself scratching his ears before I can stop myself. Then I take him and set him down on the floor, because the little prick needs to know who’s boss. “Though you may have to wait a day or two for the ring to resurface.”

Kick laughs again, and I turn my head and stare daggers at him. He just takes another drag on the cigarette and stares down at his boots.

“Jonah, Ivy,” Ma calls from the top of the stairs. “I could really use that gravy boat right now if I’m going to feed all of these men.”

I grit my teeth and take a deep breath through my nose. When I couldn’t go to Ma's this year, I’d asked Kick to pick her up and bring her back here so the three of us could have Christmas together. The three of us being my two favourite girls and me. The three of us … not including Kick, and the whole fuckin’ club.

Ivy bites her lip. “Crap. I forgot your Ma needed some help with locating a gravy boat. I told her you probably didn’t have one, but she said you definitely did because she gave it to you and she’d kick your arse if you’ve thrown it out.”

“Yeah, I got one. Tell her I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay. I’ll let her know, Ivy says, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek.

“Hey, where’s my merry fucking Christmas?” Kick says, grinning at her. Ivy raises a brow at him. She glances in my direction, and timidly steps closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Kick pulls her into a firm embrace. She squirms and smacks him upside the head to make him release her.

“It’s good to see you, Darlin’,” Kick says and lets her go, and then just to fuck with me some more he slaps her arse as she turns and walks away.

“Arsehole,” she mutters.

“Touch my woman once more, motherfucker,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just once, and I’m gonna rip your goddamned head off.”

Ivy places her palm in the centre of my chest. She looks up at me with a naughty grin and those fuckin’ doe eyes that slay me every bloody time. My dick snaps to attention. “Try not to kill him. As irritating as he is, the Saints still need him. At least until Diesel patches in.”

I kiss her cheek, her nose, and finally, her lips before I plead, “Come on, babe. It’d just be a little killing?”

“Right, like that shithead Diesel could ever replace me,” Kick mutters.

“Lunch is ready,” Ma calls from the house. Ivy turns on her heel and heads upstairs. I scoop up the wriggling rat that tries to follow after her and shove my palm against Kick’s chest, forcing him to stumble back a step. He gives me the narrow-eyed universal glare for what the fuck? I smile as I thrust the puppy at him.

“Not so fast, fuck face. You’re on sieve duty.”

“What?”

“You brought me a pup. I asked for a dog. The little shit ate my fiancé’s fifty thousand dollar ring, and in return for being a dickless, brain-dead fucking wonder, you get to sift through his shit to find it.”

“Whatever, I’ve sifted through worse than dog shit. Leave the little fucker down here, and I’ll come down after lunch.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. I may be having just a little bit too much fun with this. “Can’t take the risk of him eating it again, so you’re gonna stay with him.”

“No fucking way.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you a plate.” I say slapping his face in a brotherly gesture. “If there’s any left. The boys seem kinda hungry today.”

“You bastard,” Kick says, and all trace of humour is gone from his voice now. “You wouldn’t do that. Come on, man. It’s Ma’s lamb roast. Tank, brother, come on.” He says as I walk up the stairs. Kick follows me, but I turn and block the exit, hitting the lock on the key fob in my pocket for the garage door, ensuring he can’t get out that way either. “Tank.”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, arsehole,” I say and shut the door, locking it behind me. It rattles on its hinges as he shoulder slams the wood.

“Tank. Let me out of here.”
I walk away, grinning.

“What’s up with the kid?” Prez asks, taking a hearty swig of his beer. He’s sitting at the table beside my mother, staring down at the spread of roast meat and veggies, gravy, and all the other trimmings.

“He already ate.” I shrug and take a seat next to my woman, leaning in for a kiss.

She places her tiny hand on my thigh and squeezes. “I love my presents.”

“Knew you would.”

“When everyone leaves, you’ll get to unwrap your present,” Ivy whispers, nipping at my earlobe. “I did half the work for you because I’m not wearing any panties.”

I groan as all the blood rushes to my cock in zero point five. The whole table is looking at us, and I spare an apologetic glance for my mother, who may not have heard our exchange, but like everyone else here she certainly got the fuckin’ gist. She grins at me and nods her thanks to Prez, who just slapped several pieces of meat on her plate. Under the table, Ivy’s fingertips dance along my thigh, dangerously close to my straining cock.

“Merry Christmas, Tank,” she says. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me.

Merry fuckin’ Christmas indeed.

Want more?
Take the ride of your life with books one and two in the Savage Saints MC series here:
KICK:
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TANK:
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Watch the KICK trailer here.

Well, that's it from me, my lovelies!
I hope you had a beautiful and safe Christmas and here's hoping that Jolly old Saint Nick left oodles of books under your tree this year.

8 Amazing Novels. All 99 cents each. Limited Time Only.

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Mon, 07 Dec 2015 01:21:00 +0000

Hiya Lovelies!

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REVELRY IS LIVE!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Mon, 25 May 2015 13:44:00 +0000

Ladies, batten down the hatches, hang onto your panties, and stock up on batteries for your We-Vibe because #REVELRY is AVAILABLE NOW, and the boys of uber hot Aussie rock band Taint do not mess around when it comes to rocking your world.

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REVELRY is a sexy romp through the murky waters of the rock world. It follows the lives of Cooper Ryan, Zed Atwood, Levi Quinn and Ash Cohen, four young Aussie rockers taking the international music scene by storm as they embark on a world tour and settle into a life of fame, groupies, fatherhood, love, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

But what happens on tour doesn't always stay on tour.

Lifelong friendships are tested on the road, jealousy runs rife when two band-mates fall for the same woman, one member of the band is hiding a very big secret, and nothing hurts worse than an early morning wake-up call of worldwide public humiliation after a bender.

Are you ready to be Tainted?

Synopsis

Cooper Ryan is living the dream. Between the parties with rock royalty, booze, groupies and performing to crowds of thousands with his band Taint, life seems pretty sweet. There’s just one thing missing: the feisty little red-head that took his baby and ran off with his heart. Throwing himself into music is the only thing keeping him sane.

Until a run-in with a nonplussed, package-wielding PA throws everything off balance.

Ali Jones is having a craptastic life. Her grandmother died, leaving her homeless, penniless, and alone, and her boyfriend left her for a tramp who takes her clothes off for money. That’s why when she lands her dream job at a record company it seems like it’s too good to be true.

Because it is.

Slapped with an ultimatum, Ali must decide if facing the horror of the unemployment line is a fate worse than going on the road with four rowdy rockers hell-bent on making her life misery.

He’s adored by millions.

She’s not even loved by her cat.

Can they ignore their hatred long enough to survive the tour from hell? Or will their chemistry force everything to come crashing down around them?

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Now Read an Excerpt

“Oh, I know your type.” I point my finger at his chest, but it sort of ends up poking into his chin on account of me being stark raving drunk. “You’re one of those Alpha-holes, aren’t you?”

“What the fuck is an Alpha-hole?”

“You know? One of those bossy, everything has to be my way and I’ll blindside you with how fucking sexy I am so you won’t see it coming when I slap you upside the head with my big cock and my bullshit about how I own your pussy and how you now belong to me and blah, blah, blah.”

Coop smirks. Another mother-fucking-smirk. “Do I own your pussy, Ali-Cat?”

“Fuck no. I don’t even own that pussy. That bitch needs a fucking leash.”

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REVELRY ... it's coming ... and so will you!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Wed, 15 Apr 2015 00:47:00 +0000

REVELRY

Hang onto your panties, ladies, because Cooper Ryan is almost here.
REVELRY, book one in the highly anticipated, panty-melting new Taint series, releases on May 25th

REVELRY is a sexy romp through the murky waters of the rock world. It follows the lives of Cooper Ryan, Zed Atwood, Levi Quinn and Ash Cohen, four young Aussie rockers taking the international music scene by storm as they embark on a world tour and settle into a life of fame, groupies, fatherhood, love, drugs, sex and rock n roll.

But what happens on tour doesn't always stay on tour.

Lifelong friendships are tested on the road, jealousy runs rife when two band-mates fall for the same woman, one member of the band is hiding a very big secret, and nothing hurts worse than an early morning wake-up call of worldwide public humiliation after a bender.
Are you ready to be Tainted?

Synopsis

Cooper Ryan is living the dream. Between the parties with rock royalty, booze, groupies and performing to crowds of thousands with his band Taint, life seems pretty sweet. There’s just one thing missing: the feisty little red-head that took his baby and ran off with his heart. Throwing himself into music is the only thing keeping him sane.

Until a run-in with a nonplussed, package-wielding PA throws everything off balance.
Ali Jones is having a craptastic life. Her grandmother died, leaving her homeless, penniless, and alone, and her boyfriend left her for a tramp who takes her clothes off for money. That’s why when she lands her dream job at a record company it seems like it’s too good to be true.

Because it is.

Slapped with an ultimatum, Ali must decide if facing the horror of the unemployment line is a fate worse than going on the road with four rowdy rockers hell-bent on making her life misery.

He’s adored by millions.
She’s not even loved by her cat.

Can they ignore their hatred long enough to survive the tour from hell? Or will their chemistry force everything to come crashing down around them?

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Now Read an Excerpt

My vision is partly obstructed by Ali, but the sight of her head bobbing as she takes him in her mouth is all I need to know what’s going on. Levi meets my gaze across the limo. There’s gloating there—that much is obvious—but there’s also understanding. When you spend as much time together as we do, you come to know your bandmates pretty well. For all his talk, he’s not as big of a douche as he claims to be. He may not ever sleep with the same woman more than once—with the exception of Ali, I guess—but I know he’s not immune to the loneliness our lifestyle creates. It’s strange how you can be adored by millions and yet completely alone all at the same time.

He slides his hand into her hair and closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the seat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, and then he gathers her hair to the side and shifts her body so that my view is completely unobstructed. I watch as she works her hands up his shaft in time with her mouth. He doesn’t attempt to fuck the back of her throat and make her choke on it, the way we both had that first night we fucked her. Instead, his touch is gentle. Reverent.

It makes me crazy, and hot as fucking hell. I shift uncomfortably, adjusting my cock within my jeans. I don’t make a move towards them, though I want to. I want to bury myself inside her and mark her as mine, but at this point the lines are so fucking blurred it doesn’t matter whom she belongs to. Him. Me. The both of us, or neither one.

I lean forward, taking a glass from the shelf and a crystal decanter filled with amber liquor, and I pour myself a drink, and then I slide back into the leather to watch.

“Play with yourself, Red,” he whispers.

“No.”

“Do it,” I say, and she turns around to glare at me. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed I’m not joining in, or if she forgot I was even here.

“I don’t want—”

“Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?” I say sharply, swigging back more of the scotch than I should.

“I’m not embarrassed. I’d actually rather that you joined in.”

“I’m watching,” I say, eyeing her coolly over my glass. She scowls at me a moment and then she kneels up, steadying herself with one hand on Levi’s thigh. She wriggles her skirt up over her hips and bends over. Everything is on display as she takes him in her mouth again. I close my eyes, not wanting to watch her on her knees in front of him, her head bent low, her full fuck-me lips wrapped around Levi’s cock. I feel as if I’m on a ride that’s spinning out of control and I can’t find a way off. I can’t make it stop. And I so badly want it to stop.

GOODREADS:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21847016-revelry

Super special thank you to Give Me Books for hosting the REVELRY Pre-Release Sale Blitz, and thank you to all of the bloggers and readers that have shared the promo so far.

News, News and Even More News!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sun, 15 Mar 2015 14:16:00 +0000

Now Leaving Sugartown is LIVE!

Hiya Sugar Babes!
The fourth and final installment in the Sugartown series is live!
Writing this book was such incredibly heartbreaking and cathartic experience for me. My research into cutting and living with bipolar disorder took me to some very dark places, and for the most part I still haven't really recovered.
As difficult as it was to research, write, and to live a whole month inside Pepper Ryan's head, I couldn't see this series ending any other way.
When I began book one, Welcome to Sugartown, I never imagined my words would resonate with so many different people from all different walks of life, and though this is the end for everyone's favorite little Aussie town, in a way it feels like just the beginning. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, pimped and recommended this series! I've loved every second of writing this crazy, messed-up, raw, tragic and uproariously funny world, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it just as much!

Synopsis

Pepper Ryan grew up the troublesome, spoiled child of a rock god. With her less-than-stellar parentage, and the bipolar disorder that has plagued her existence, to say this little firecracker is a handful would be the understatement of the century.
Sammy Belle spent more than half his life saving Pepper. He’d been her strength, her sanity, and the protective brotherly figure she never wanted to have.
They were never meant to be together.
They gave in anyway.
And just when Sammy thought he had everything he wanted, Pepper ran.
Now twenty-three, Pepper returns to Sugartown, a failed tattoo artist with one too many screws loose who’s down on her luck, wielding an ice cream van as beaten up as her heart.
Sugartown’s most coveted bachelor has always been content with the quiet life he leads until Pepper, the hellion from his past, returns to test his strength, his patience, and perhaps even his sanity. But two can play at that game, and Pepper is about to learn that Sam can give as good as he gets.
Can this good country boy survive Pepper’s cruel city world, or will the whole thing be put down to a bout of temporary insanity?
One thing is for certain:
He’s crazy about her.
She’s just crazy.

Warning: Intended for an 18+ audience. Contains sexual content, oodles of profanity, a firefighter so hot you may need a very cold shower, and one pink-haired crazy Harajuku girl.

AVAILABLE NOW
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Amazon AU
iBooks
B&N
Kobo

Add to Goodreads:
http://bit.ly/1N0hqoF

Now Read An Excerpt

I squirt a little lotion from the bottle—Pepper’s expensive stuff that smells like cupcake batter—and run my hand over the head of my cock, and down the rigid length as I think about her in that dress. Then I think about tearing off that dress and covering her tattoos with my mouth as I take her on the bathroom sink. I slide my cock in and out of my grip, imagining it’s her perfect, wet pussy. Pinching my nipple hard, I imagine her teeth clamped down over the sensitive flesh.
I groan. My muscles tense, my balls shrink up close to my body, and then my orgasm rips through me at the same time as the bathroom door is flung wide. Pepper hobbles into the room, her hands clutching the hem of her dress. I turn in an effort to hide the evidence from her, but my cock is still spilling seed. Come hits the fan and flies off in all directions as I grind out the last of my orgasm, and a final drop of semen spills from my cock.
Fuck.
I don’t even have time to bathe in the afterglow because Pepper is sending me death glares in the mirror and her mouth is twisted into a sneer. “YOU. GOT. COME. IN. MY. HAIR.”
I practically bust a nut laughing. Loud, unruly guffaws that are so incredibly inappropriate right now that I’m afraid she might actually hurt me.
“You got come in my hair!” she screams again.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, still howling with laughter.
“You got come in my hair ten minutes before my mother’s wedding.”

For more information on Sugartown, or to purchase your copies of this Best-selling series,
visit the official website by clicking the banner below.

TANK COVER REVEAL

Are you ready for the ride of your life?

Enter an unsettling world of volatile relationships,
hot bikers, and even hotter sex
that will have you on the edge of your seat
and force you to keep a white-knuckled grip on your e-reader.

I'm so excited to be able to reveal the TANK cover to you lovelies.
Created by the amazing genius that is Ari from Cover It! Designs this super smexy cover may just be my favourite in the Save Saints MC series so far.

TANK

Killer. Criminal. Sociopath.
All of these words have been used to describe me, and for the longest time I believed that that’s all I was.
I’m the man you call in to clean up your mess, assuming your mess is a guy who needs a bullet to the head. I’m the man the MC calls when they want their dirty work done.
I’m the man who doesn’t feel.
Until now.
Until her.
Now my mess is a woman who won’t save herself. I’ll fight like hell to save her, but at what price to the club? And at what cost to me?

Warning: TANK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug use, and explicit sexual situations that may be a trigger and cause some readers emotional discomfort. Intended for an 18+ audience only. Not intended for pussies.

AVAILABLE NOW
TANK (Savage Saints MC #2) PRE-ORDER NOW!!
iBooks: http://apple.co/1FHhXq3
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1EL62JV
Amazon & B&N links to come closer to release.

Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1N0hqoF

Visit the Savage Saints MC Official Website

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Like $500 worth of Amazon gift card?
Of course you do!
29 of the best writers in Romantic Suspense have banded together to bring you our Newsletter Sign-up Giveaway! Just like the image of the oiled up hottie above says, sign up and you could win a $500 Amazon Gift Card! That's a whole heap of Romantic Suspense books!!!
What are you waiting for?

Enter Here!

Hurry, giveaway closes March 17th!

Wanna get your books signed?
I'll be appearing at the Readers and Writers Down Under Event March 27-28 on the Gold Coast, Australia!
I'll be speaking on a panel or two on the Friday and all your fave Aussie authors will be there along with some super awesome International authors--hello, Miss Abbi Glines, I'm looking at you!
There's panels, workshops, an all day signing, and a red carpet awards night so grab your tickets now from EVENTBRITE!
I'm up for seven noms this year in the Reader's Choice Awards, including best street team for my fabulous Sugar Junkies.
I'd absolutely love your vote, and in return I shall shower you all with virtual cupcakes and man candy!

MAN BATTLE OF THE CENTURY #3

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sun, 08 Feb 2015 02:50:00 +0000

ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE?

It's that time again, where my good friend and fellow author Kirsty Dallas and I band together to bring you the most exciting, the most exhilarating, the funnest fun you can have on the internet with your clothes on!

It's none other than the

MAN BATTLE OF THE CENTURY

ROUND 3!

This little baby is being sponsored by Glass Paper Ink Book Blog at their Pre-Valentine's Day Multi Author Party!

So, wanna know which boys are going head to head?

Bradley Emerson from the soon to be released Bradley's Whistle, book #2 in the Pornstars of Romance Series from Kirsty Dallas'

And

my very own KICK, from book #1 in the Savage Saints MC series!

Enter our Kinktastic Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

KICK IS LIVE!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Tue, 27 Jan 2015 12:39:00 +0000

KICK IS LIVE

Are you ready for the ride of your life?

Enter an unsettling world of volatile relationships,
hot bikers, and even hotter sex
that will have you on the edge of your seat
and force you to keep a white-knuckled grip on your e-reader.

KICK

When I was ten, my father indoctrinated me into the family.

A brotherhood who would fight, protect, and give their lives for one another. A club whose ties ran thicker than blood, murkier than the dirt and grime that tainted my soul. Stronger than the bonds that connected me to my own family.

A band of brothers, where loyalty was kept and paid in a currency of blood.

When I was twenty-seven, I betrayed that brotherhood.

I’ve spent every day since running, avoiding paying back that debt.

My name is Daniel Johnson. I have betrayed everyone I ever loved.

And I’ll betray her too.

This is my story—if you’re screwed up enough to want to read it.

Warning: KICK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug use, and explicit sexual situations of a taboo nature. Intended for an 18+ audience only. Not intended for pussies.

AVAILABLE NOW!!
KICK (Savage Saints MC #1)
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00SSCJT5O
iBooks: http://tinyurl.com/m4mjlqk
B&N:http://tinyurl.com/kfmqf6u
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/l3soqkc
Add to goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23318098-kick

Read an Excerpt:

I pick up a cup of cold, stale, black coffee and chug it down. It tastes like shit, so I screw the cap off of a bottle of Jack and chase the black filth with the burn of amber. I set it back on the table while the familiar click of my gun being cocked echoes through my small room. I laugh. Fucking ballsy bitches make me hot.

“Hands in the air, and turn around. Slowly,” the woman says through a scratchy throat. I do as she asks, mostly because I want to keep my spine intact, but also partly because bitches with guns are fucking hot, and I’m hard as a rock just thinking about the way she’s gonna look with a pistol trained on me.

She’s been busy while I was out, rummaging through my drawers and finding a pair of loose tracksuit pants. They’re rolled at the waist, so much that it makes her look pregnant. That, combined with her crazy fuckin’ cat lady hair and the filth covering her body, makes her look like a homeless person.

I smile and clasp my hands behind my head. Her eyes rove over me, taking in my size. She’s checking me for the arsenal I so obviously have stashed away in my fucking worn, faded jeans. She’s not checking me out and dreaming about me taking her rough and hard on my fucking scratched-up dining table, but I still get a fucking boner out of having her eyes roam all over me.

“Pick up the keys, and open the door,” she commands.

“If you run, they’ll shoot you.”

“Pick up the fucking keys.”

I snatch up the keys and lob them at her, hard enough that she has to twist out of the way. She cries out as she does, proving to me that her ribs are definitely injured, maybe even cracked. I lunge at her. Shoving her back against the bed, I land on top of her, warding off her blows with one hand and squeezing her wrist with the other until she drops the gun on the floor.

“Get off me!” she screams.

“You’re not leaving this clubhouse,” I whisper in her ear as she struggles beneath me. “The best you can hope for is to play nice and I might decide to keep you as a house mouse. But if you piss me off, and if you pull on me with my own gun again, your life will be so much worse. You thought the dentist was fucked up? Baby, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve lived inside my fantasies for a day. So if I were you, I’d be really fuckin’ careful about how you play your next move.”

Visit the Savage Saints MC Official Website

KICK COVER REVEAL!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Mon, 10 Nov 2014 19:45:00 +0000

Hiya Babies,

TODAY'S THE DAY!!
I'm so damn excited to finally be able to share the cover for KICK (Savage Saints MC #1) created by Ari at Cover It! Designs.

Ari has created some of my favourite covers ever and KICK was no exception! I fell head over heels the second I saw it!

So, without further ado...

Expected Publication Date:

JAN 26, 2015

Genre:

Adult, Dark Romance.

Warning:

KICK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug use, and explicit sexual situations of a taboo nature. Intended for an 18+ audience only.

Not intended for pussies.

PRE-ORDER NOW:

iBooks
Kobo

Add to Goodreads

I want to thank the awesome girls at

TRSOR Promotions for hosting the KICK (Savage Saints MC #1) cover reveal and a super huge THANK YOU of gargantuan proportions to all the bloggers, readers and authors who shared the cover! You guys are amazing!!!

TRSOR Promotions will be hosting the official blog tour on Jan 26th to Feb 6th!

To sign up for The KICK follow this link

Keep a look out for Savage Saints Merch, coming soon in our store!

What did you think of the KICK cover?
Be a doll and let me know below.

KICK, Cover Reveal and Blog Tour Sign Up!!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Thu, 23 Oct 2014 20:40:00 +0000

Hiya Biker Babies,

So I have some uber exciting news!

The awesome girls at

The Rock Stars of Romance will be hosting the cover reveal for KICK (Savage Saints MC #1) on November 10th and the official blog tour on Jan 26th to Feb 6th!

To sign up for one or both of these events cover reveal, follow this link

Add to Goodreads

Keep a look out for Savage Saints Merch, coming soon in our store!

Excited for more KICK?
Be a doll and let me know below.

Now Leaving Sugartown

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sat, 11 Oct 2014 13:26:00 +0000

Hiya!
I'm officially declaring this week International Awesome Blurb Week!
Remember when I said I didn't have a blurb Now Leaving Sugartown (Book #4 in the Sugartown series)?
Well, now I do!
There's no official release date for this baby, just yet, but you can whet your appetite with blurb below and be sure to check out the first chapter posted here.

Sammy Belle spent more than half his life saving Pepper. He’d been her strength, her sanity, and the protective brotherly figure she never wanted to have.

And just when Sammy thought he had everything he wanted, Pepper ran.

Now twenty-three, Pepper returns to Sugartown, a failed tattoo artist with one too many screws loose who’s down on her luck, wielding an ice cream van as beaten up as her heart.

Sugartown’s most coveted bachelor has always been content with the quiet life he leads until Pepper, the hellion from his past, returns to test his strength, his patience, and perhaps even his sanity. But two can play at that game, and Pepper is about to learn that Sam can give as good as he gets.

Can this good country boy survive Pepper’s cruel city world, or will the whole thing be put down to a bout of temporary insanity?

One thing is for certain:

Warning: Intended for an 18+ audience.
Contains sexual content, oodles of profanity,
a firefighter so hot you may need a very cold shower,
and one pink-haired crazy Harajuku girl.

Add to Goodreads

Excited for Now Leaving Sugartown?
Be a doll and leave a comment.
Bitches love comments.

KICK!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Fri, 10 Oct 2014 21:22:00 +0000

Hiya!

So something interesting happened a little earlier this week.

Wanna know what?

Of course you do!

I announced I'd be releasing a new MC series titled: Savage Saints!
Book one is titled KICK and follows the story of the lovable, yet extremely damaged, Daniel Johnson A.K.A KICK who we met very briefly in Welcome to Sugartown, and got to know--or who we thought we'd gotten to know--in Greetings From Sugartown.

KICK should be on e-readers and in paperback sometime in the New Year. There will be a cover reveal soon, I'll post the sign up here and on my facebook page,
but in the meantime you can read the blurb now:

Add to Goodreads

Excited for more KICK?
Be a doll and let me know below.

Sydney Author Event Ticket Giveaway!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Thu, 02 Oct 2014 12:29:00 +0000

Hiya Bunnies!

Wanna know what I'll be doing on 29.11.2014?
Signing my little heart out at the Sydney Author Event!

And with any luck you will be joining me!

At the risk of sounding like Willy Wonka with his golden ticket (why does that sound so dirty?), I have in my posession one AM session ticket that I will be giving away to one lucky weiner!
Hooray!

All you have to do for your chance to win is fill out the Rafflecopter thing'a'majig below and follow the event organisers blogs, and my author page, on facebook!
Hurry though, entries close in SOON!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Are you exited for SAE2014?
Be a doll and leave me a comment below!

Now Leaving Sugartown

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Wed, 01 Oct 2014 10:00:00 +0000

Hiya Poppets,
So I've said before that there will be four books in the Sugartown series and seeing as Holly and Jack finally came to their senses in Enjoy Your Stay, and Greetings from Sugartown gave us the highly anticipated (and very dramatic) conclusion to Ana and Elijah's story, that really only leaves us with one couple left to read all about.
Yep, you guessed it!
Sam and Pepper!
Who knew that little Sammy Belle and Pepper Ryan would grow up into a pair of hellions hell bent on making one another's life, well ... hell!
Okay I did, but did you? And with a family like their's is it really any wonder?

Now Leaving Sugartown is the story I've been dying to write since this series began, so in celebration of the fact that I'm knee-deep in creating the little universe Sam and Pepper have carved out inside my head, you guys can get a sneak peek!
This baby doesn't have a blurb yet, or even a cover, but it has a first chapter, and you can read it below!

Pepper

Holy shit, it’s even worse than I remembered.

It’s funny the things you think when you’re staring down the bowels of Hell. I pull the van to a jerky stop on the shoulder of the road, and gawk at the tiny town spread out before me. It’s eight am, and it’s thriving with life. Cars bustle every which way, school kids are decked out in their blue uniform, chatting animatedly as they cross the road, and the traffic actually stops to allow them safe passage. The shops on Main Street are all freshly painted in pastels. Flowerbeds line the footpath, and brightly-coloured petunias pop out of the soil to greet you. It looks exactly like Stepford threw up. Twice.

Jesus Christ. I’m gonna need a bottle of Jack, and an entire prescription worth of anxiety meds just to get through five minutes in this shithole town.

I ease the car out onto the road—maybe ease is a stretch. What I mean to say here, is I slam my foot to the accelerator and fly down Main Street, doing sixty kilometres in a fifty zone. I would have gone much quicker, but I don’t need the cops riding my arse and asking questions about my newly acquired ride. Technically, if you factor in that my arse-wipe boss hasn’t paid me for a month, I do kinda own some of this van, like a tyre, or the second-hand freezer he installed last month. Though considering I probably owe him damages from punching him in the face, breaking his nose, and stealing his phone so he couldn’t call the cops on me, I guess this could still be considered theft.

It’s not like I set out to steal his ice cream van, but the slimy bastard had rubbed his greasy, chesty Bonds-covered beer gut against my arse one to many times. When his meaty hands slipped under my skirt, and boldly tried to go where no balding, impotent, bogan, fifty-year-old scumbag’s had ever gone before, I put those lessons Uncle Elijah had taught me to good use, and elbowed him in the face. I maybe could have done without the boot to the balls, but violence excites me, and it was a heat-of-the-moment type of thing. Of course, once I’d driven my stolen van home to the shitty Fitzroy apartment I shared with my soon to be ex-boyfriend—on account of him being an inconsiderate, selfish, but hot-as-fuck douche—the gravity of my situation sunk in. I had no money, nowhere to go, and a possible warrant out for my arrest.

Coop, my biological dad, is in LA, so even if I could get him to wire me the cash, it wouldn’t be here before night fell, and I needed a place to stay. I needed to get the hell out of the state. I needed to go home.

Home.

I supress the hysterical laughter that thought produces, and unscrew the cap on my meds. I empty two into my palm and throw them back with the remainder of my flat, warm can of Coke. God damn, do I wish it were mixed with something alcoholic.

I’m busy punching the buttons on the piece of crap stereo when I glance up, and some moron in a fluoro yellow vest and matching hat is standing in the middle of the road holding a stop sign. I hit the brakes. The van swerves and skids all over the asphalt, screeching to a stop just inches from the man, and a gaggle of horrified-looking children and their outraged mothers.

The lollipop man is tall. His wide shoulders barely fit in the fluoro vest, and the sleeves of his shirt strain against bulging muscles. His hair falls into a messy, blonde just-fucked shag around his face, and a set of gorgeous baby blues glare at me through the windscreen.

“What the hell, lady? You didn’t see the gigantic neon stop sign?” he shouts, holding his arms out to either side of him. He lost the sign about the time I imagine he thought I was going to plough into him. “You coulda killed me. You could have killed these kids!”

I ignore the fission of heat that spreads out from the centre of my belly all the way to my cock socket. I have a thing for the mean ones.

“Yeah, I saw it. About two seconds before I slammed on my breaks,” I scream back through the partially rolled down window. I unbuckle my belt that sits way too loose over my hips, because my lard-arse boss stretched it all out of shape, and throw open the door. It groans on rusty hinges. “So, little Sammy Belle grew up to be a lollipop man.”

“Do I know you?”

“You should,” I say slamming the door, folding my arms, and coming out from around the vehicle to see him better. “We used to bathe naked together.”

“Pepper?”

“Naww, you do remember me.” I bat my eyelids coquettishly, then give him a devilish grin.

Sam folds his arms, assessing me from my long pastel-pink hair right down to my calf-length leopard print Doc Martens. I don’t miss the way his gaze rakes over the ink sleeve on my right arm. Or the roses on my thigh playing peek-a-boo with my short skirt. His eyes flit back to mine with a grin.

“Huh,” he says.

I frown. “Huh what?”

“You grew up, is all.”

“So did you.”

“I’m six years older than you, darlin’. You would hope I’d have grown up by now.” And there it is, the reminder I spent my entire adolescent life trying not to hear: Sammy Belle is too old for me. Six years too old for me. You might not be thinking that’s such a big deal. Twenty year olds fuck men forty years their senior all the time. But most of those are money-grubbing whores and well, when you’re a horny fourteen-year-old girl lusting after a hot twenty year old, who’s only ever behaved the way a brother would, and you throw caution to the wind, remove your bikini top and hurl yourself at him? Yeah, trust me, you’re not ever going to forget something as insignificant as a six-year age difference. The memory of my humiliation comes unbidden into my mind, and I chase it away with an appraisal of my own.

Sam looks older. Good. But older. He’s tanned, and has lost that baby-faced boyish charm. He’s a man, and from the looks of the front of his jeans, he hasn’t forgotten that in my presence. I share a wry smile of my own, flicking the tiny Monroe piercing in my upper lip with my tongue. He clears his throat.

“You look good, Pepper,” he says, before checking himself, and shutting his face down into a stoic expression. “Now, if you’re done terrorising the neighbourhood, I gotta get back to work. Someone has to keep the kiddies safe from Harajuku nut jobs, intent on flattening them with their ice cream van.”

I clench my jaw. “You did not just call me Harajuku.”

“Run along, Sailor Moon,” Sam says, and winks. “Just be careful not to run anyone over, this time.”

And just like that, he dismisses me. Sammy fucking Belle, the lollypop man, the guy who took me to my year twelve formal, the guy who sat and made fun of all the other arseholes dressed in their tuxes and frilly pastel dresses while I wore combat boots, ripped jeans and a corset. The guy who told me not to give a shit that they were staring, because I was the most beautiful girl in the room, and he couldn’t take his eyes off me. The guy who I stole my first kiss from—thatSammy Belle, who’s a tanned, sunshiny real-life golden boy, dismisses me.

I laugh, humourlessly.

Run over? Oh no, Sammy. I’m going to run rings around you.

Jumping back in the van, I twist the key in the ignition, and feel a sense of pride when she sputters out a big black cloud of exhaust smoke. She backfires, and I know without a doubt that every single pair of eyes in that street is staring at me. I flip the switch on the dash and “Greensleeves” filters out through the giant speaker on top of the van. The kids’ mouths open in excitement, because no matter where you are in the world, and no matter what time of the morning it may be, that sound means one thing: ice cream.

An errant little boy escapes the clutches of his pink tracksuit clad mother, and heads right for me, shouting, “Ice Tweem!”

When he’s close enough to the window I roll it all the way down, hang out my head and hiss at him, which sends him scurrying off the road and back to his mother. Then I skid out and slowly, and very deliberately drive a dawdling circle around Sammy. He stands in the centre and follows me through the 360◦ revolution, eyes tight, face guarded, and arms folded against his broad chest.

Sam the lollipop man is pissed.

On the second drive-by, he just shakes his head, and I think I see a dry smile twist the corner of his mouth. I grin back, throw him a wink, and flatten my foot to the floor. The van lurches forward, and the gearbox protests as I grind it into second and zoom off in a cloud of black exhaust and squealing tyres.

Sugartown might be the absolute end of the earth, but now that I’m a little older, I think I might actually have some fun here.

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Are you looking forward to Now Leaving Sugartown?
Hit me with your comments below!

Greetings from Sugartown is Released into the World!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Sun, 28 Sep 2014 07:08:00 +0000

Hiya Bunnies,
I'm a little late in posting this, seriously someone needs to tie me down and spank me for not updating this site often enough with #AllTheImportantThings. Well, belated posts or not books still get released, or maybe that's why my posts are always belated?
Anwhoo, book three in the Sugartown Series
Greetings from Sugartown
is finally out in the world!
With every book you write you're faced with a different set of challenges, and no matter how many books or stories I work on in the background (and trust me there's a bazillion all circumnavigating my brain, some that have been written already and others fighting to be heard over the noise that those Sugartown and Taint series kiddies create), with Ana and Elijah I can honestly say every second of writing their story has been a joy.
Yes, even that one scene in Welcome to Sugartown. For the record let me say here that that scene hurt me as much as it did you guys! Also ... THEY WERE ON A BREAK!
But I'm digressing,
Greetings From Sugartown is the conclusion to Ana and Elijah's story, though it's not the end of the series.

Synopsis:

Life in Sugartown hasn’t always been easy, not for an ex-con like Elijah, and certainly not for Ana, who grew up desperate for a way out.

Meeting Elijah changed all that; Elijah changed a lot of things.

You’d think that after three years together and the worst behind them that life would be a walk in the park, but Sugartown’s sexiest couple may be about to face their biggest obstacles yet. Between failed marriage proposals, a trampy ex-lover and a tempting new biker, Sugartown is suddenly not so sweet.

They’re head-over-heels in love. It should be simple—but it rarely is.

Will they make it down the aisle to the happy ever after they deserve? Or are some relationships just destined to fail?

Intended for an 18+ audience. Contains explicit sex, violence, a crap-tonne of profanity, and naked encounters with disastrous outcomes.

Purchase Greetings from Sugartown here:

Amazon | Amazon Paperback | B&N | Kobo | iBooks

Ana

Elijah rolls on top of me, cradling my head between his hands, his forearms pushing into the mattress. He kisses the tracks the tears make down my face. “I love you. I don’t deserve you, I never have, especially not now.”

“Don’t say that—” I interrupt, but he quietens me with the press of his lips against mine.

“I tried, baby girl. I tried to lock it all up tight, to push it down and hide it, but I can’t. I wanna be the man you deserve, but I’m not him. I’m broken. Toxic. I’ll always be shit, and there’s nothing I can do to change that.”

“Hey …” Elijah bows his head, and I place my hands on either side of his face and force his gaze up to meet mine. “You are none of those things. You’re good. You have the biggest heart out of anyone I know, and you love with every part of it. Sammy is a different kid because of you. Dad is different, Holly, Jack … I’m different. Yes, we’ve been dragged through a lot of shit, and some of that has been your fault, but you’re the one who pulls us safely through the other side. You’re the one who takes the darkness away, not the one who creates it.”

He laughs, but there is no humour in it.

“Ask me again,” I whisper, pressing light kisses to his neck.

“No.” Elijah shakes his head. “Not now.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask you.”

Elijah

I need a drink. I need an antihistamine, but I don’t have time to go rooting around in the cupboard for that shit because Ana’s going to be home any second, and I have orgasms to deliver and a question to pop. I pull the champagne from the ice bucket and pour myself a glass, downing it in one go. I scratch, but the itch just spreads. It’s everywhere. My entire body is breaking out in this fucked up rash and … Jesus Christ, it’s like an inferno in here.

I haul my arse over to the window, throwing it wide and gulping in deep, heavy breaths of cold winter air. That’s when I hear the van’s door slam. I jack-knife from the window and hurry back to the table. I can’t stop scratching. I swear my skin is crawling with fire ants.

“Honey, I’m home,” a voice sing songs from the hall.

Fuck. That’s not Ana.

Before I have time to cover my junk, Jack and Kick are standing in my lounge room. A heartbeat passes, one in which we all just stare at each other like fuckwads, and then the laughter starts. I close my eyes, and squeeze my hands into fists to keep from ball-punching the both of them.

Kick leans towards Jack and whispers, “I think we’ll call him Jeeves.”

“Dude, when I said you could borrow my table I’d kinda pictured you doing something bad arse and kinky with it. Now I just wanna take it back.” Jack walks forward, and brushes his hands lovingly over the leather. “Don’t worry, baby, Daddy’s gonna take you home and put you to good use.”

“Don’t fucking touch it. I went through three cans of disinfectant to get that thing clean. I don’t want your herpes contaminating it again.”

“Herpes? Fuck you, cunt-burger. I’m definitely taking my table back now.”

“Speaking of herpes, what the hell is going on with your skin?” Kick says, eyeing me from head to toe. “It looks like you fucked a leper and your limbs are gonna start falling off.”

Well, what did you think of the conclusion to Ana and Elijah's story?
Be a doll and leave a comment below!

Update ... update ... update!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Tue, 12 Aug 2014 01:06:00 +0000

Hiya!

First up I think I need a good hard spanking for not having posted before now. There's been many a multitude of things going on in Carmen Jenner Land and all of it has been as crazy as my hair colour.

First up this little baby was released

And if you look to the sidebar on your right, you can find the purchase links for books one and two in the Sugartown series.

This little baby was announced and written

As was this

Okay, this one is not written yet, but it's on it's way!

So, what the hell else has been keeping me from updating this site?

I'm so glad you asked.

In one word: Shenanigans!

Mostly shenanigans of the author/naughty housewife/mummy to two crazy kids variety, but some of the "lets throw 70 authors and a whole bunch of awesome fans in a room together and see what happens" variety.

In other words, Australia's first indie author signing,

INDIE AUTHORS DOWN UNDER.

Yes, yes, this post is only five months late, but you know, I have things to do ... and stuff ... Anywhoo, I honestly don't think I've ever had a more crazy, beautiful and downright depraved time as I did on the Gold Coast for this event.

I was fortunate to meet some of the authors who inspired me on a daily basis, some who I've chatted to briefly via facebook and others who I'd never had the chance to meet previously but due to the hard love, hurled insults and hashtags are more like family.

I met some pretty freaking awesome readers too!

Here's a little play by play of the events:

It all started with me hauling the 500 (or so) boxes, dresses, shoes, suitcases, books and swag into the lobby of the Outrigger. Where I was promptly met and appropriately insulted by Lola Stark and David Michael--don't panic, whore is a term of endearment where we kids come from. From there came playful hugs, hashtags and a whole world of laughs before we hopped in a taxi and headed off to ManPower with the lovely Simone Nicole

#AuthorsBehavingBadly

Pretty pouts with Simone Nicole

After a very strange elevator ride involving a couple beautiful readers and an incident with Lola letting her inner Domme lose, we headed up to event organiser Jess from A is for Alpha B is for Books' hotel room for an impromptu party, where I got to chat to one of my fave Aussie bloggers, Kylie from Give Me Books . After several more hours of cuddles and shenanigans, we said goodnight to Thursday.

Friday brought us shopping and an awesome author dinner, where I crash-tackled Abbi Glines, poor unsuspecting Abbi, and hugged, laughed and carried on like a lunatic with some of Australia's finest authors, and some wonderful editors too.

(LtoR) Gorgeous Velvet Reed, Me, lovely Becky Johnson of Hot Tree Editing and the very Sexy Miss Jennifer Ryder

Fastforward to drinks, midnight and Carmen's swag sweatshop! I owe these girls big time for helping me box up all that Sugartown candy!!

(L to R) Lovely Lila Rose (I adore this woman), funsized Lola Stark, beautiful Becky Johnson aka the best helper ever and delicious David Michael

Fast forward to the big day! After rolling out of bed LATE!!!!

We threw ourselves together and hurried downstairs for breakfast. I sat through speeches from keynote speakers, Abbi Glines and Jessica Shirvington. And boy do I wish I had those recorded because I was so nervous I still have no idea what was said.

Then it was on to the event room to set up the signing! Jessica Shirvington stopped by my table to talk about Sugartown. Again, couldn't really tell you much of what happened here because I was a bundle of nervous energy and three seconds away from screaming at her to find me a bottle of vodka and a cigarette--for the record, I don't smoke and I'm not a huge drinker, as evident later that night when we slunk away from the after party and began doing cartwheels on the beach. It was a Julie Fucking Andrews moment people and I finished it by face-planting in the sand! And no, I don't have a picture of that! Thank the Lawd! ;)

The signing was absolutely beyond my wildest dreams huge!!!

Getting to meet readers who'd loved and identified with my books? I gotta be honest, there isn't a feeling like it in the world!

Thank you to everyone who came by my table, purchased signed copies and Sugartown merch and told me how much you loved the books. You guys are the reason I do this and without you, there would be no Sugartown!

So that was the play by play of my first signing, there's a tonne of other things that happened that I haven't mentioned, we'd be here all day if I did. There's also a tonne of shenanigans that have happened in the last five months since the GC, I'll fill you in on ALL THE THINGS shortly, namely a HUGE US adventure that saw me finally getting to meet my best friend, some of my fabulous Street Team members the Sugar Junkies, and many many authors that I love, idolize and look up to (read: fangirl over).

The greatest editor in all the land Lauren McKellar, or McStellar, as she's known to her clients!! Words cannot express just how much I love this woman!!

Shenanigans!

Stay classy peeps

because god knows I can't be relied upon to do it!

Enjoy Your Stay Cover Reveal and Special Announcement!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Thu, 09 Jan 2014 06:37:00 +0000

Hiya!

So today marks the release of this little beauty, it's the cover for book #2 in my Sugartown Series, designed by Frankie Rose

Enjoy Your Stay

The last thing Holly Harris expected was to wind up nineteen, knocked-up, and all alone. When Coop left to pursue his dreams of becoming a rock god, he left a tiny piece of him behind.

Holly wishes he hadn’t.

Jackson wishes he hadn’t.

They drive one another crazy, and yet they can’t stay away.

When old flames resurface, and even older wounds are torn open, can two people so similar make it work? Or will their stubbornness only drive them further apart?

*Content Warning. Intended for a mature 18+ audience. Contains angst, a crap-tonne of profanity, short-tempered Australian wildlife, and some very pregnant sex.

Add to Goodreads

Jackson

Fuck.

The way she’s looking at me right now just makes me want to bend her over and impale her on my cock. I lean in and smell sex on her. Not sex, exactly, it’s just Holly’s sweet, sweet scent, but she’s definitely aroused, or has been. Fuck. If I get my hands on that little cock-sucking emo shit again I’m gonna throttle him for messing with my woman. And yes, I’m aware I just called Holly-fucking-pain-in-my-arse-Harris my woman.

Jesus Christ. How the hell did I dig the hole so deep?

I lower my lips to her cheek and whisper, “He get you off like old times, Hols?”

She pulls back and glares at me. “Fuck you, Jack.”

“My room or yours?”

“Very funny,” she snarls. “I need a shower.”

She stalks toward the bathroom, but I loop my arm around her shoulders and pull her back into me.

“No,” I whisper in her ear, and grind my Johnson against her arse, “you need to be fucked, sweetheart. Long, and hard, and merciless.”

She lets out a breathy moan.

“And I’m just the man to do it,” I say and start easing her back into my room. “Here’s the thing you don’t realise, Hols. That might be Coop’s baby inside you, but he couldn’t ever satisfy you the way I can. You need a man, darlin’, a man who’s not afraid to get under your skin and piss you off, and give you a damn good fucking hiding whenever you need it—not a boy who wants to dress up and play house. The only housekeeping you need is for you to be on your knees, cleaning my cock.” I whisper, as I trail kisses down her neck before gently pushing her back on the bed.

Purchase Book One in the Sugartown Series, Welcome to Sugartown, here:

Amazon | Amazon Paperback | B & N | Kobo | iBooks

So I mentioned there was going to be a special announcement in the title of this post and here it is: after much thought I've decided to write a Sugartown novella in between books two and three of the Sugartown series ... SURPRISE!
Greetings From Sugartown (props to beautiful Teresa from Readers Live A Thousand Lives for the title, I love ya, babycakes!) will be a little snippet into Ana and Elijah's lives after the events in book two.

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I want to say a massive thank you to the beautiful girls at

for hosting the cover reveal and a HUGE thank you to every one of the 200+ bloggers and readers that shared in this reveal!

I'm so grateful to each and every one of you!!!

Happy Belated Release Day To Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Carmen Jenner) — Mon, 04 Nov 2013 10:30:00 +0000

Hiya!

So, you might have gathered from the title of this post that my book baby Welcome to Sugartown has been unleashed on the world!

Hooray!!

WtS was released yesterday, November 3rd, and is currently on the e-readers of more people than I ever imagined would get to read my debut novel and I couldn't be happier.

OK, well I probably could be happier if my main character miraculously came to life and swept me away on his Moto Guzzi ... yeah, still not real.

Anywhoo, there's been a lot of questions floating my way today, namely where can we buy it, when can we buy book two, will book two be Holly and Jackson's story, and where the hell is Sugartown? Cause I looked at a map of Australia and I can't find it anywhere!

But first things first, you might have noticed Welcome to Sugartown is looking a little different these days. No, you're blind, seeing things or crazy (actually, I don't know about that last one, you're still reading this post and I'm damn near certifiable, so what does that say about you?) but yes, she did have a makeover.

Incredible cover designer, videographer and amazing author in her own right Miss Frankie Rose came to my rescue last week when the proof of my book came back from the publisher looking like someone on an acid trip had thrown up all over it.

So after just a few short hours (which Frankie would probably call the longest, godforsaken hours of her life) she delivered this baby into my eager little hands

I couldn't be happier!!!

Of course, with a new cover comes great responsibilty ... er .. trailer, a bright and shiny new trailer

So, back to those all important questions:

You can purchase Welcome to Sugartown from the following places:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Smashwords

Paperbacks will be available from Amazon in the coming weeks!

Book two hasn't been written just yet, but I can tell you I'm setting a tentative release date for early 2014 and YES, WE'RE GOING BACK TO SUGARTOWN AND IT WILL BE ALL ABOUT HOLLY AND JACKSON!

Oh, and for the record, Sugartown does not technically exist, at least not outside my head anyway! ;)