One Ride Blog Tour

 One Ride (The Hellions Ride)
By

 Chelsea Camaron

 

Delilah “Doll” Reklinger never imagined her life with anyone that wasn’t a Hellion. She never imagined a Hellion would come along and prove himself worthy enough to her father, Roundman, Hellions Club President. Content in living in the bubble of safety the motorcycle club family has always provided, Doll never thought that danger surrounded her.

Roundman has kept the Hellions contained for the last thirty years by controlling the chaos surrounding their lifestyle. When the dangerous side to their business comes knocking on his door, he realizes his precious Doll isn’t safe. The Hellions code may be that women and children are off limits in any altercation or dispute, but that doesn’t mean their enemies follow that same moral compass.

His only child, now in danger from the association to him and his club, Roundman makes a decision. He sends her away to a charter club, in hopes that the trouble won’t follow.

One ride across the country. One simple ride. Talon “Tripp” Crews has been ordered to take Doll on one ride away and to keep her safe. She’s off limits, his head knows this, but his body can’t deny the sparks between them. She’s feisty, fierce, and fearless. Constantly in close confines together, can they deny the chemistry? Will they give into the attraction between them? Can one ride turn lust into love?

Goodreads Link:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18526139-one-ride

Jenn's Review

4 ½ stars

Not the same old Biker romance. This book took me on an exciting trip; quite literally.

Talon ‘Tripp’ Crews is ordered to safely transport Delilah ‘Doll’ Reklinger, the daughter of the Hellions Club President, Roundman, across the country to a charter club after her life is threatened by enemies.  Doll has grown up knowing little other than life with the Hellions, she’s gutsy, tough and spirited and although she knows her place, she proves to be a handful for Tripp when he is challenged with the battle of mind over body. His mind tells him ‘hands off’ but his body tells him otherwise.  And the adventure starts.

One thing I loved was the dual POV, it was well written and the male/female POV didn’t overlap telling the same story twice. Once and done, fresh and clean just the way I like it.

I enjoyed the adventure as sparks started to fly and boundaries were crossed. Close quarters made for hot steamy situations with just the right amount of sexual tension to keep it interesting. Tripp’s apprehension to get involved with Doll is understandable when you realize there are codes to follow and messing with the club president’s daughter probably isn’t his wisest choice, I was still cheering for a real connection.

I felt the ending was a bit rushed but loved promise of more to come with book #2.

Cheers Chelsea Camaron to a book well written!!!

Jenn's Dream Cast

 

Tripp

 

( I couldn't decide between the two)

 

Doll

 

Chelsea Camaron was born and raised in Coastal North Carolina. She currently resides in Southern Louisiana with her husband and two children but her heart is always Carolina day dreaming.

Chelsea always wanted to be a writer, but like most of us, let fear of the unknown grab a hold of her dream; she realized that if she was going to tell her daughter to go for her dreams, that it was time to follow her own advice.

Chelsea grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, and from that grew her love for old muscle cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles, which just so happened to inspired her ‘Daddy’s Girls’ series. Her love for reading has sparked a new love for writing and she currently has a few more projects in the works.

When she is not spending her days writing you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in.

She hates being serious and is still a big kid at heart. She is a small town country girl enjoying life and, Chelsea hopes that her readers remember not to take life too seriously and to embrace your inner five year old, because five year olds know how to enjoy the simple things in life and how to always have fun.

Email chelseacamaron@gmail.com

Twitter @chelseacamaron

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/authorchelseacamaron

Website www.authorchelseacamaron.com

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6980925.Chelsea_Camaron

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Chelsea-Camaron/e/B00BM8FRJS/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1378850688&sr=8-2-ent

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Tripp

Kissing Doll was a mistake. Shaking off the thoughts of her body molding to mine, I focus. Knowing the fuckers are following us, I’ve got to keep my shit straight. The downfall to being followed while you’re on a bike, it’s hard to watch the bastards following you without making it obvious. Bike mirrors are small and full of blind spots anything more than a car length away. It’s a game of where the hell’s Waldo. I never have liked games.

Peek-a- mother- fuckin’- boo. I see you Cadillac SVT. Same bastards from before, they have no idea who they’re fucking with. Extending my left arm out straight, palm flat to the ground, I make a slight up and down motion to let Rex know to slow down and back off a little. Turning my hand, I single three fingers then four. Throwing my arm up, bending at the elbow to a ninety degree angle while balling my fist, then with my index finger only extending I make a circle motion. Rex knows in three quarters of a mile, I’ll make a hard right exit, no signal. He’s to keep going, let the caddy follow me, while he gets Sass to send the text to the boys to circle around, and back my ass up.

Pulling off, sure enough, the car follows. Hopefully, they took the bait thinking we were riding the two of us and only sent one car to tail. My boys have been following a half hour or so behind us the entire ride making sure to stay out of sight. If there are too many of them, we’re fucked. I’ll do anything before they get Doll though.

We’re on a two lane road that makes a loop. I feel the vibration of my phone cueing me that Rex and crew are heading to the gas station. Officially in BFE (Bum Fuck, Egypt) I pull into the seedy gas station. As soon as Doll realizes Rex doesn’t follow the turn off, she holds on tighter. I drop my left hand to squeeze her thigh reassuringly. Hang tight until the cavalry arrives. None of these fuckers are gonna get to her to use as a pawn in some sick game. Not one hair on that pretty little head will be touched as long as I’m fucking breathing.

Pulling in, Doll climbs off. Before I climb off, I grab her hand and swing her to me, snaking my hand around the back of her neck, I pull her in for a kiss. Raw, rough, and real passion flow freely between us as the kiss becomes a tangle of tongues, lips, and teeth. When I pull away, her eyes are glassed over in desire.

“Stay close, and follow my lead, Doll.” I whisper to her before kissing her forehead and releasing her.

Climbing off the bike, I remove my helmet. Storing both our helmets on the bike, I make a point not to touch any of the saddlebags. Knowing we’re being watched, I need to make this believable. They may or may not know the real purposes behind this trip. If Delatorre hasn’t been taken down yet, they will want Doll to keep him breathing. If Delatorre has been handled, this could be retaliation. Either way Doll is their target. Time to keep up appearances I smile at Doll to ease her fears.

Walking up behind Doll, I wrap my arms loosely around her waist. Turning her, I keep my body between her and the car. Dropping my head, I lightly bite at the sweet spot where her neck and shoulder meet. She softens beneath me. Running my nose up her neck as I inhale her scent, reaching her ear, I whisper to her.

“Stay close, do exactly as I say, we’ve been followed.” She nods her head in agreement. “At the bathroom door, I’m going to kiss you. When I do, my body will be blocking their vision. You need to reach in the waist band of my jeans and grab the pistol and tuck it into your jeans. Then you go in the bathroom and lock yourself inside a stall. You don’t come out until Sass arrives to get you. If anyone comes inside that isn’t me, Rex, or Sass, you shoot them. Hellions cut or not, shoot first ask questions later. My boys are coming for backup but they won’t come in here to get you, only me, Sass, or Rex. Got it?” I say, needing her to understand that these men could kill us and get a Hellions cut so she can only answer for people she can recognize.

Once again she nods. I feel her shudder beneath me. I begin pushing us forward, walking behind her, still wrapped around her. The embrace is close like lovers. Under other circumstances it would be intimate, but in this moment, it’s about her safety.

At the bathroom door, I lean down and kiss her wrapping my hands around her head. Adrenaline mixes with an unknown emotion as I sweep my tongue inside her mouth. I don’t want to ever stop kissing her, but right now I’ve got to get rid of our problem. I feel the gun being pulled away as she tucks it against her own waist. When she starts to pull away, I pull her head back to me. I kiss her with everything I have in me. If I die right now, I die a happy mother fucker to have shared my last kiss with this woman. Finally, I pull away.

“Be safe, Doll. Remember, no one, but me, Sass, or Rex.” I kiss her forehead as I release her. Pausing for a moment as I watch her disappear in the restroom, I can hear her lock the bathroom door.

Turning around, I’m greeted by none other than the same fucker from the truck stop.

“Don Juan Mother Fuckin’ Pablo. What can I do for you Chico?”

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You might think you know Brad’s story, but think again. There’s so much more to his story than what Valerie told. See Brad before Valerie came into his life and, when he was playing back burner to Ethan, see what Brad was up to when no one else in the band was looking.

Valerie might have thought she and Brad were inevitable and maybe, in the back of his mind, Brad might have felt that way too, but he didn’t just sit around waiting for her. See the secret side of Brad that you had no idea existed. What kept the driving force behind Fully Automatic focused even while his heart was breaking?

 

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Jade C. Jamison was born and raised in Colorado, moved from one city/town to the next, and she’s decided she likes it so much she wants to stay…although travel is not out of the question. She lives in a big town in Colorado (not unlike Winchester!) with her husband and four children. She is working on becoming a crazy cat lady. Okay, so maybe not.

Still want more? Jade has a bachelor’s degree in English Literature and Theater, a master’s degree in English, and a master of fine arts in Creative Writing. Obviously, she loves school and the student loan folks love her. She works in human services by day, teaches English and creative writing at night, and—in between playing soccer mom and community leader—writes like a friend. Someday soon, she’ll narrow it down to just writing, but let’s get all those kids off to college first.

 

 

 

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Escape the Doubt Blog Tour

After the unexpected death of her Dad and the haunting manner in which he died Riley Shaw built invisible walls around her heart. Barriers she created to protect her from splintering into broken pieces that couldn’t be repaired. She was unable to move forward from her past letting the guilt of her parent’s mistakes dictate her own choices.

Dean Warren was safe. Being with him was innocent and peaceful because she didn’t truly love him. His words held her captive in a false sense of security. His eyes were deceptive and his promises of never pushing her beyond what she was willing to give were broken leaving Riley Shaw in a state of regret and doubt.

Joshua Parker had the power to take what was left of Riley’s splintered pieces and ruin her completely or make her whole again. He was her best friend, her next-door neighbor - everything she wanted and settled on never having. Loving him was as easy as breathing air. The fear of losing him forever was more real to her than the feelings she couldn’t escape.

When faced with the very thing she feared the most and in the arms she thought were safe Riley finds herself questioning every decision she has made over the past two years. When she finally escapes the doubt in her head and accepts the truth in her heart is it too late?

Is taking a chance with your heart worth the escape or was it better to have never loved at all? Can forgiveness really set you free?

*Warning: This is a mature young adult novel. Recommended for readers 17+ due to underage drinking, sexual content and adult language.

*This is book one in a series however can be read as a standalone.

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At school Dean approached me sitting on the bench.

“You look so sad, Riley.” He said.

I shrugged, “well, I am.” I replied truthfully.

He sighed. Probably thinking vainly that it was all about him, his ego getting a boost

from my evident pain.

“We have been friends for a long time, Riley. Even before we became more. We

were friends. Ya know? I miss you.” He told me as he sat down and grabbed my hand.

I inwardly cringed and recoiled away from him. However, outwardly—I did nothing.

“I know,” I said.

I didn’t miss him. I didn’t need him. In fact, I resented him. So why was it that I

rested my head on his shoulder? I’m asking myself that same thing as I stand in my

shower. Replaying that thought and the image I saw on Josh’s face when he walked by—

looking at us—as though something was there between us. There wasn’t.

I miss you, Josh.

I decide after my shower to toil without respite. I wrap myself in a towel and walk

across the hall to my bedroom. I have my head cast down, flipping through the playlist on

my iPod settling on, Wish you were here by Incubus. I kick the door closed with my foot

and walk into my closet.

“We need to talk,” a voice says from my bed. I jump, dropping my iPod on the floor

and nearly losing my towel as well. I step out of my closet, stand in the middle of my

room, and narrow my eyes at my best friend. Ex-best friend? Preslee’s baby daddy? Ugh!

“Damn it, Josh. You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?” He drags

his eyes lazily up and down my body before narrowing them on my face.

“I just told you. We need to talk. You won’t answer your fucking phone, or return

my calls, or talk to me at school. So, here I am,” he says dryly.

“Um, if you haven’t noticed I’m kind of naked here. I uh, can you like shut your eyes

so I can put my clothes on? Then we can talk?” I ask him feigning exasperated, when

actually I’m feeling flushed and nervous as hell. I’ve missed him, his nearness, his voice,

and those eyes.

The way he is looking at me. It’s so intense; I can’t help but feel affected.

He stands, and walks towards me. For every step he takes, I take one away, until my

back is pressed to my shut bedroom door. He is standing so close to me, I can feel his

breath whisper along my cheek. He puts his hands on opposite sides of my head of the

door, caging me in. He is looking down at me with such heat in his eyes that I don’t know

what to make of any of this.

“I noticed,” is all he says on a growl.

He trails his fingers along my cheek, down my throat, to my collarbone, where he

pauses, and looks up into my shocked eyes.

“Your pulse is racing, Riley. Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, in a voice

that is almost foreign.

I shake my head back and forth, “no, yes, no. I’m confused.” I sigh, and look down.

He tilts my chin up with his index finger. I keep my eyes cast downward, not wanting to

look into his eyes. If I look into those hazel eyes, I am afraid of what I will see. Of what it

will do to me.

“I see that, Riley. Look at me.” His voice is soft, but demanding. I don’t want to look

at him, but I can’t get my body to listen to my brain. I feel possessed. I meet his eyes just

as a tear rolls down my cheek, and then another and another. Damn it. I am so weak. I

can’t do this.

He watches my tears fall, and drags the pad of his thumb under my eyes to wipe

them away. I can’t stop them from falling.

He seems just as lost as me in this moment, looking back and forth at each of my

eyes. Studying me. Breaking me. “I’m sorry, baby.” He rests his forehead on mine, his

dirty blonde hair tickling my eyes.

I begin to shake uncontrollably. “I… I… I can’t do this, Josh. You need to leave,

please. Please, leave me alone.” I stutter as I tremble.

“I can’t. I can’t leave you alone.” His eyes flick to my mouth, and very slowly he

places his left hand on the door and raises his right hand to my face. He slowly pads his

thumb along my bottom lip that is quivering now.

I can’t help but shut my eyes and let my head fall back to the door. I feel dizzy. My

breaths are coming shallowly, and my heartbeat feels like a marching band has taken up

residence inside my chest. Thumping so loudly, that I know he has to hear it. I’m losing

control. I want him to stop, to never stop. What is wrong with me?

He lowers his head to my shoulder, his breath so hot on my neck. “Riley?” He moves

his hand away from my lips and is now tickling his fingers up and down my arm, leaving

a tingling sensation and goose bumps in there path.

“Hmm?” I didn’t know what to say anymore.

He slowly lifts his head, dragging his nose along my cheek until our lips are almost

touching. His mouth is only a breath apart from my own. I see a million emotions shadow

his eyes as he looks down at my face. His breath is minty and tantalizing me. He presses

his chest into my own, causing me to gasp. I look into his eyes, locking into a silent

debate of will. He wraps his hand around the nape of my neck, his other hand cups my

cheek, and I am certain he is about to kiss me. I don’t have the strength, or desire to stop

him.

If I lean in, we would kiss. One last taste would put me in my coffin. Be my poison.

I’m addicted to his poison, though. I want it on my tongue, inside my mouth. Kiss me.

He doesn’t kiss me, though. He steps back, and stares at me for the longest time.

“I’m sorry. I can’t think straight with you like that. I’ll shut my eyes so you can put

clothes on, and then we need to talk.” He says, gesturing to my towel wrapped body, and

turns his back to me. It’s not up for question. We are going to talk.

I dress quickly in white shorts and a teal camisole. My mind is reeling of airing all of

this with him. What was he going to say? How would I respond in hearing it? What

should I say?

I walk over to my bed where he is sitting with his elbows rested on his knees, his

head in the palms of his hands. I place my hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at me

with wary eyes. I place my body in between his legs looking down at him.

His eyes are indecisive and full of worry. I rub my index finger along his brow line

to smooth it. “Do you remember when things used to be so easy between us? When we

used to laugh together? When you would climb through that window just to annoy me?” I

ask looking at the glass that holds so many good memories.

Tears are brimming his eyes, “I remember every fucking minute ever spent with you,

Riley.”

He interlaces our fingers, watching mesmerized as he does. I look at our intertwined

hands and back to his face. I bite my lip nervously. His eyes look to my lips and then

back to my eyes.

“Are you getting back together with Dean?” He asks abruptly.

My mouth falls open in shock. What’s he smoking? For real? Seriously! Like, I

would ever do that. Doesn’t he realize any of this?

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Facebook / Goodreads / Blog / Twitter / Amazon / Instagram

Andrea Michelle was born and raised in Louisiana. She spent years in Tennessee and in Texas and made it full circle back to the boot she loves so much and is currently living in Baton Rouge. She is a mother to three beautiful daughters and married her best friend at the young age of nineteen. She is a new self published author with a debut novel in the mature young adult contemporary romance category. She is a dreamer, a true Gemini at heart and has a fascination with love stories. She finds inspirations in all things (friends beware) and loves poetry and music. Her writing journey began as a young teen where she used to escape into a world of fiction and poetry just to cope with emotions she didn't understand. She wasn't an avid reader until her adult years and then her addiction to the one clicker became an obsession that cannot be tamed. She is not genre specific as a reader and she will not be genre specific as a writer. "I am not writing to tap into a niche but writing whatever my heart feels is the story to tell. Each WIP I create will have it's own voice. Some may thrive and some may not." When Andrea isn't writing you will find her reading, listening to music or spending time with her precious family. She is excited yet nervous to share her passion with you but looks forward to the journey ahead. She loves to hear from her readers and is eager to make new friends. Links below so you can friend, like, follow and support her.

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It's Time For More Big_Ben

Tess has just discovered sex. And now, she’s about to discover sex as a weapon.

The Seattle barista and art student is happy with her beautiful Brit boyfriend, Ben — especially in the bedroom. But while Ben’s her first, she’s hardly his. And Ben’s sexual history seems to be popping up in Tess’s face like something out of a zombie movie, and it has her questioning his commitment — and questioning whether his appealing alpha maleness is just a cover for a controlling personality.

Maybe one that’s meant to keep her from asking too many questions.

Is Ben the problem, or is everybody from his past the problem?

Tess is asking the questions, and pushing hard for answers.

Is Nicole, the ex-fiancé who cheated on Ben, trying to worm her way back into his life? Was there something between Ben and Tess’s best friend, Erin? Or what’s going on with Ben’s adored teenage sister, Caroline, and Ben’s best friend Dan? And how did Ben get Tess a job interview with Mr. Andrews, his sophisticated but slimy boss at the music magazine?

As Tess comes to learn, relationships — especially sexual ones — are as much about power as love. With each new discovery, she finds herself in a struggle to hold her head together as much as her heart.

And to find where her own power lies.
 

 
Buy Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Private-Show-The-Series-ebook/dp/B00I2UNRK0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1390851408&sr=8-2&keywords=Danielle+Torella
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FACEBOOK / WEBSITE / GOODREADS

Hi! I am Danielle live in Western New York with my husband and two sons. I never knew I had a dream to become a writer until I started becoming obsessed with reading in the last two years. The obsession began with Twilight and then matured to Fifty Shades. While used to reading mainstream best sellers, found a new love for indie authors. I love to do paintings related to the books I read and eventually turning into Pushy Girl Paintings and now do work for other indie writers and readers. My first book idea started from a dream I had one night and became obsessed with the story and started writing. Now having arguments with the people in my head and loving every moment of it, even when they take control of the story.

 

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Collaboration Release Day Blitz

 

Release Day Blitz

 

This is not your typical rock star romance. For one, the “rock star” is a rapper. And not just any rapper. Trace is the hottest ticket in the music industry right now, regardless of which definition of ‘hot’ you choose.

Taryn Starr is not the girl-next-door who unknowingly meets a celebrity. Known as “America’s Sweetheart,” the reigning country music princess and world-renowned superstar knows exactly who Trace is…or does she?

Their worlds collide when the musicians whose paths were never destined to cross are forced by their joint record label to collaborate on a song. The sparks fly and ignite a fire that blazes hotter with every minute they spend together—for better or worse. One thing’s for certain, the two media magnets can’t deny their explosive chemistry, but will life in the spotlight ultimately bring Trace and Taryn together or force them apart?

***This contemporary romance new adult novel is for mature audiences. The language alone would make a sailor blush (the guy’s a rapper, remember?) so 18+ only, please.

 

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My guitarist, huh? I can’t help but wonder what else he is to her. Considering his close proximity and the adoring way he’s looking at her, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants to be. Question is, what does she want? Or rather, who? And why the hell do I care anyway?

 

“Trace?” I snap out of my ridiculous thoughts to see both Taryn and Ryder staring at me. I also don’t miss the curious look her mom is shooting my way, arched eyebrow included.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, using my most polite voice. It’s a good thing my boys aren’t listening in or they’d be giving me shit for sure. “You must be a hell of a guitar player to get to back up this girl.” Okay, that was a dig I just couldn’t help.

 

“I do what I can,” he says with a smirk, and I have the unexpected urge to knock that grin right off country boy’s face. My label would love that, me starting a fight right here at the home office. “Oh, and congrats on the win, by the way, even if you did beat my girl here. Then again, she did take home the grand prize so it’s all good, right?”

 

If Taryn was a fire hydrant, he just pissed all over her. Yeah, I better get the fuck out of here and fast. “Yeah, we’re good. Look, it’s good to meet you, but I gotta jet...literally,” I say and notice the way the corner of Taryn’s perfect pink lips turn up at my words. “Tour starts tomorrow.”

 

“I heard about your tour,” he says and I raise my eyebrows. This should be interesting because I know this redneck doesn’t listen to my music. “What’s it called again?” he asks, and I see his eyes shift to the right where there is a newly-released tour poster covering half of the damn wall. The words “This is Me, Motherfuckers” are emblazoned across a life-sized version of me giving two middle fingers to anyone who sees it. Ironically, this poster doesn’t really represent me at all, but this asshole doesn’t need to know that. I’m not sure why exactly, but he is definitely trying to make me look bad in front of Taryn. Well, two can play at that game.

 

“I guess they don’t teach you how to read down where you’re from, huh?” I ask, indicating the poster. I don’t miss Taryn’s mouth drop open in shock at my words. So much for being polite, I think.

 

“Actually,” he says, the ever-present smirk still firmly in place, “our home state is known for its high literacy rates.” And there he goes pissing again.

 

“Well, that’s nice to hear and if I had more time, I’d love a little lesson on the educational system in Texas. But I have a tour to start so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to see both of ya’ll later,” I say and brush past Ryder, not bothering to look Taryn’s way again.

 Meet The Authors

 

 

 

Michelle Lynn Bio:

Michelle moved around the Midwest most of her life, transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two kids.  She developed a love of reading at a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write.   With the encouragement of her family, she finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating around in her head. When she isn’t reading or writing, she can be found playing with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family and friends.  But after chasing around twin preschoolers all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after putting the kids to bed.

 

Nevaeh Lee Bio:

Nevaeh’s first exposure to writing began in a middle school creative writing class. She was reprimanded for composing a politically incorrect story and forced to re-write about a “safer” topic. Being the writing rebel that she is, Nevaeh always likes to push the envelope a bit and never re-writes, unless her editor insists on it.

 

When she’s not writing, Nevaeh is a freelance book editor ;). And when she’s not reading, writing, or editing, she can be found spending time with her family and taking road trips, exploring the area around wherever she happens to be living at the time. Even though “home” will always be Texas, she has lived in several different states and countries, but currently resides in the DC metro area.

 

She also adores her really big dog who frequently takes her for walks while enduring her many story ideas and rambling dialogue, which sometimes occurs in multiple languages. After many years of this, she finally decided to start writing out some of these stories and her first book, a joint effort called Collaboration, will be self-published on January 26, 2014.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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