Welcome to Mamba's front row seats to the Kari Gregg - Rachel Haimowitz showdown for the The Romance Reviews: Best Erotic Romance 2010 Non Traditional Lifestyle. Complete with my own little giveaway over here at my Place. I have absolutely NO doubt this will get so vera interesting as the feud comes to my little corner of the internet.
I do so love to watch a good ol' fashion blood feud.
Excerpt and trailer below the jump. Giveaway details at the end of each post, but basically... you know the drill... leave me a comment to gain entry to the awesomeness that is the giveaways. The cool showdown graphic will take to over to The Romance Reviews website for the actual vote.
I wish you luck ladies. Let's do see some blood please. ;)
Now, without further ado...
Publisher: Noble Romance
Blurb: Mitch McAllister and Liv Winslow grew up in the same squalid trailer park, turning to each other for comfort as scared kids. When they meet there again while visiting their dysfunctional families as adults, Mitch and Liv escape the ghosts of their past in sexual excess. They ultimately include Mitch's neighbor Sam Lawson in their giddy, extravagant play. It was only supposed to be sex: hot, dirty, spine-melting sex.
None of them wanted to fall in love. If life has taught Liv, Mitch and Sam anything, though, it's that we don't always get what we want. But if we're very lucky, sometimes we get exactly what we need.
Special Content Alert: M/F/M, menage, M/M, bisexual, anal, BDSM
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Mitch nosed his truck into the stingy parking place the mobile home park
allotted his father's rust-streaked trailer. He killed the headlights. Gave his stomach a
second to unclench.
Hovel sweet hovel.
His mouth curled into a bitter smile.
Checking onGary every Friday for the past two years hadn't changed his
instinctive flinch each time he saw the place. He didn't hate the weakness, though, not
anymore. The sharp twist of dread in his gut meant he still felt something. It hadn't
But he didn't look forward to what he'd find inside the trailer.
His lips compressed into a hard line.
He climbed out of the truck.
When he spotted a familiar Amazonian silhouette out of the corner of his eye,
near the trailer park's last surviving floodlight, he waved. "Hey, Liv." He turned back
for the tall, brown paper bag that had lain, accusingly, on the passenger seat since he'd
left the liquor store on Elm.
He pivoted to face her—and froze, arm outstretched for Gary's whiskey.
In the arc of flickering light, her face shone sickly pale, features drawn and tight.
Stress lines bracketed her mouth. Her dark eyes glittered with the same shame and
despair that knotted his stomach. She ripped her glance away and fidgeted with the
hem of her gray tank top. The tank had shrunk after too many washings and rode above
her belly button.
Pink pajama pants five inches too short.
And no shoes.
As soon as he jerked his keys from the ignition and his truck engine died,
shouted curses as blue as the frigid air reverberated four trailers down.
Jaw clenched, Mitch crossed the muddy excuse of a road, thankful the ground
was still too warm to freeze. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, draped it over her
She burrowed into it for warmth. "Thanks."
Dark eyes huge, haunted, she nodded. "The cops are on their way."
He blew out a tired breath.
Weren't they always?
Since Olivia Winslow stood only a couple inches under his six foot two and he
had zero desire to spend the rest of his weekend with a heating pad on his lower spine,
he turned his back to her, bent at the knees. "Hop on." When she didn't, he tapped the
top of one shoulder. "Don't be shy, honey. You're barefoot and there's a shitload of
Her arms slid around his neck.
He braced himself.
She jumped. Her thighs clamped around his hips. He grunted, but didn't stagger
under the weight. Liv was no skinny twig of a woman, but she wasn't fat, either. Just . . .
tall. "Hold tight."
He stopped at the truck for Gary's whiskey, slammed the door, and triggered the
locks on his way to the trailer. She slithered off his back when he climbed the rickety
steps. Mitch crouched so she wouldn't fall. "Careful."
As soon as her bare toes kissed the gray weathered wood, he lifted his arm to
beat on the front door. "Open up, Gary," he said, his breath pluming in the frosty air.
She pasted behind him like glue, shivering despite his coat. How long had she
been hiding outside, freezing?
The TV inside blared.
Mitch pounded on the door. "Dad!"
"It ain't locked, goddamnit!"
Mitch shoved the door open and dragged Liv over the threshold behind him.
The wasted shell of his father glared at him from the hospital bed in the dank,
narrow living room. Most of his hair was gone and what little remained had pasted to
his scalp in stringy, unwashed clumps. Lines grooved his face, some from the pain that
required the morphine pump, but mostly from hard living. Gary McAllister had been a
hulking, brute of a man once, until cancer had eaten him away. All that was left was
this skeletal, dried-out husk and the hatred that beaded his eyes. "If you didn't bring it,
you can just turn your ass around, boy."
"I brought it." Mitch stepped farther inside, the smell of sickness and stale sweat
churning his stomach. Once the door was shut, he tossed the bottle of Jack Daniels onto
He scrambled for it.
His father could still move pretty fast when liquor was involved.
"C'mon." Mitch groped behind him for Liv's hand. "We'll see the squad car lights
from my window."
Already unscrewing the lid, Gary cackled. "Finally gonna get yourself a piece of
Mitch's jacket gaped when Liv skirted by the hospital bed and the bastard's eyes
focused on her breasts, nipples beaded from the cold to point prominently through the
thin material of her tank. "Great tits."
Mitch gritted his teeth, but he didn't stop. Stopping would make it worse, so he
pulled Liv down the hallway, dodging dirty clothes and trash piled against the walls
A voice slurred from the back bedroom. "That you, Mitch?"
Two more feet and they would've been home free.
"Yeah," he said.
"We got notice." His stepmother stumbled from the darkened doorway ahead,
bleached hair frazzled around her head like a malevolent halo. The frayed strap of her
sheer black nightie slid down her shoulder. She didn't bother to right it. "'lectric
company's going to cut us off Monday."
Mitch reached for the doorknob to the room he'd slept in as a child. Not that he'd
ever really been one. "I'll take care of it."
"You bring his JD?" she asked, a hopeful glint hardening her glazed eyes.
God, he was sick of this crap.
Why couldn't the son of a bitch die? Just die.
He stared at the phony wood finish of his old bedroom door. "Yeah."
When she lurched forward, Mitch twisted the knob. He stalked inside before Rita
reached them and yanked Liv in with him.
He slammed the door shut.
Leaned back against it.
Liv's hand lifted to hit the light switch.
He snagged her wrist. "Don't."
He couldn't stand it.
He couldn't stand to look at the bowed paneling. He didn't want to see the
lumpy twin mattress that had once comprised his bed. Or the stained sheets. But
mostly, he didn't want to know if his stepmother had left any half-smoked cigarettes
mashed into the carpet again. He didn't want to know that she snuck in here, slept in
his old bed when he was gone.
Christ, why did he keep doing this to himself?
Liv tucked her head under his chin. Her free hand drifted to his shoulder and
when he released the other, she curled it around his waist. "Are you okay?"
He was not okay.
He snaked his arms around her, though. She'd tied her dark hair in a ponytail at
the nape, which he didn't like. He wanted it loose, hanging free past her shoulders and
almost to the base of her spine. Brushing against his arms and chest, like when they'd
been kids. But it smelled of some fruity-flavored shampoo now. That, he liked.
"Why do we do it?" he asked her. "Why do we keep coming back?"
"I don't know." She hugged him. "I think . . . I keep hoping that if I save my sister,
I just might save myself." Her hair caught in his stubble, like silk against his skin, when
she looked up at him. "You came back to bury your father. Bury what he did to you."
Mitch grunted. "We're both fucking neurotic."
"Thanks for the newsflash, Captain Obvious." Blue lights flared through the
missing teeth of his window blinds. The smile Liv tipped up at him quivered only a
little. "They're here."
She started to pull away, but he drew her back. "Let the police get him in cuffs
He held her.
Because it felt good.
"You want to tell me how you ended up wearing her clothes?"
Mitch wished to God, he could make it all go away. The weary hurt inside her,
the fury building in him.
They'd made it out.
They'd crawled, clawed, and fought their way out of this stinking cesspool—
made lives for themselves. She was a paralegal for some scum-sucking lawyer. It didn't
pay dick—he'd seen her car—but it wasn't the impoverished rot of this hellhole, either.
Mitch had worked his way up from day laborer to full partnership in a small but
thriving construction company on the other side of town. Even getting his clock cleaned
in three divorces hadn't dented his professional success.
They'd earned their freedom.
Both of them.
They'd fought for the right to turn their backs on poverty, suffering, and abuse.
Instead, they'd circled right back to where they'd started—in this godforsaken
trailer, arms looped around each other as crude animal noises filtered through the
She wrinkled her nose. "Are they doing what I think they're doing?"
"He's so tanked on meds he hasn't been able to get it up in a year. He just likes
The world would stop turning if Gary McAllister passed up an opportunity to
humiliate his son.
Snorting ripe disgust, he marched her to the window, lifted the blinds. "We're
getting the fuck out of here." He opened the window, punched the sagging screen out,
and hopped down.
His boots sank an inch into thick mud.
He lifted his arms. "C'mon, baby. Just like old times."
She peered at him from the darkened room, bit her lip. "I can't run away, Mitch.
Not this time. I need to make a statement to the police."
"You need to get your ass out that window." He shook his head when she didn't
move. "We've got ten, maybe fifteen minutes before Rita comes back to my room and
tries to crawl into my pants. I mean it, Liv. Time to go."
She shimmied out.
He caught her.
Not the piggyback ride he gave her to the front steps.
He carried her in his arms like Rhett frigging Butler.
Except, instead of dumping her in a nice big bed, he slipped her onto the front
seat of his Chevy 4x4.
"Seatbelt," he said when he rounded the hood and climbed in, but she'd already
That was the thing about him and Liv. They put on their seatbelts. Every time.
Nobody had to remind them.
The Gary McAllisters and Bert Winslows of the world were only interested in
belts they could swing from clenched fists, the kind that had left welts Liv had hidden
so she wouldn't have to explain them at school.
Mitch's scars ran deeper.
And hadn't this turned into another lovely trip down Memory Lane?
Mitch couldn't take any more.
He pushed his key into the ignition and rammed the truck into reverse to back
"Leave it." He shoved the gearshift into first, eased by the police cruiser pulled
next to her family's trailer. "To hell with it. All of it. Just for a while."
He turned right on the main road and they left the nightmare in the trailers
Mitch wished it were that easy.
"I live on Euclid. On the corner of Grand Avenue," she said when they reached
streetlights and downtown traffic.
There were worse neighborhoods.
They'd just bolted from the worst part of town.
But he wasn't taking her home. He made a left at the next intersection instead of
taking the right toward Euclid.
"I know what you said." He drove east, to the highway and newer housing
developments there. "If you really want to go to your place, I'll turn around." His
fingers tightened on the wheel until his knuckles shone white. "I . . . I don't want to be
She didn't reply right away, just stared out the windshield what felt like epochs.
* * * * *
Available at https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=181
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The fine details...
· To enter, just leave a comment on this post.
· Giveaway is for an ebook copy.
· Please include a valid email address.
· Contest closes 11:30PM PST, March 14th, 2011
· Winners will be selected at random.
· If the chosen winners do not respond to my email within 48 hours, another winner will be selected.
· Contest is open to worldwide.
· Must be 18 yrs. old or older.
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