You can find early reviews of the ARC of Yield on Goodreads here.
The facebook release launch of Yield on March 30th EDT time, features an incredible line-up of Dark authors. All are welcome! Click the link to go there.
❀ ✿ ♥ Participating authors ♥ ✿ ❀
Shantaye Brown - 4.30 pm
Kim Faulks - 5 pm
Ivory Quinn - 5.30 pm
Skye Callahan - 6 pm
Kitty Thomas - 6.30 pm
Marissa Honeycutt - 7 pm
Kimber S Dawn - 7.30 pm
AJ Adams - 8 pm
Gemma James - 8.30 pm
Cari Silverwood - 9 pm
Alaska Angelini - 9.30 pm
Kristin Elyon - 10 pm
If you'd like to read an excerpt from Yield, a dark erotic book, and the last in the Pierced Hearts series, there's one below.
I leaned in and listened, while resting my palm on her chest then I fumbled at her neck until I found the bump of her carotid artery pulse.
Breathing – good. Pulse – good. Relief poured in.
So odd, to be able to touch her.
I clicked off the light and straightened, still aware of her seductive scent and remembering the soft give of her skin underneath my fingers. My heart thumped heavily.
Not obsessed, hell no. I scoffed at my own naivety.
I worked my arms under her and carried her to my own trunk, crunching stray leaves under my boot and grinding them into the bitumen surface of the road. Then I gently lowered her and tucked her legs up to accommodate the temporary soundproofing. The partition between the trunk and the back seat had plenty of gaps and air would be plentiful. She could breathe. In daytime she might’ve cooked from the sun beating down on the metal. Nighttime was perfect.
There were no human sounds here, in this eucalypt forest north of town, just an owl, some bugs making bug noises, and distant cars grumbling along the highway.
I slammed the trunk shut, walked to the open driver’s side door, and slid into my seat.
Then...I freaked, a little.
What the hell was I doing?
Rules, limitations, boundaries, being sensible according to what my brain said was best – these had formed my compass for surviving for the twenty-five years since I hit teenager times. I lived my rules.
“Holy fuck,” I muttered, thinking of her back there and me here, holding the wheel, staring out at the darkness.
In one day, I’d turned everything upside down.