Friday, December 12, 2014

Blog Tour & Review for EASY VIRTUE by Author Mia Asher!


 
 
Are you ready for Blaire?  



Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1rSEK0k

 
 
BLURB
Love is selfish...

My name is Blaire.

I'm the bad girl.

The other woman.

The one who never gets the guy in the end.

I'm the gold digger.

The bitch.

The one no one roots for.

The one you love to hate.

I hate myself too...

Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine? 
 
 
EXCERPT

With champagne and caviar inundating my every sense, I slither through the light wooden floors of the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing in The Met. As I walk, I pretend to admire the expensive jewelry being showcased tonight by a famous designer whose name I can’t remember. A multicolored diamond butterfly sparkles to my left and a cobra made out of black stones glistens to my right. Rows upon rows of precious gems twinkle under the soft lights of the room, flooding the space between the walls with the glow of a thousand stars. Furtive glances. Secrets gossiped. Beauty criticized. Lofty music fills the atmosphere as the ├╝ber rich mingle and pretend to like each other, yet you can almost taste their conceit and derision for one another in the air.

          This is Walker’s world, and I love it.

          Standing across the room, where the crowd is thinner and the music fainter, I spot Walker’s blond head in the corner of the room, talking to a group of his colleagues and their wives. He looks polished and worth every penny of his trust fund in his sleek black tuxedo, perfectly starched white shirt and black bowtie. His long golden hair parted to the side shines like the sun. He is truly flawless.

          I smile because it’s hard to picture that this is the same guy who likes to snort coke off my tits as he fucks me while hardcore porn plays in the background. He looks untouchable and so cool, but his searching eyes, scanning the crowd for me give him up. He’s wondering where I am. He did tell me not to go too far, after all. Soon after we arrived at the party, I gave him some space to talk to his friends and do his thing while I did mine. I hate clingy people, so I avoid being one.

          I grab a third flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and try to decide which of the different displays to check out first when my eyes land on a spectacular piece of jewelry. On a bed of black silk, similar to my hair color, lies an extravagant necklace made of diamonds and rubies—a small heaven within one’s reach as long as you can afford the price.

          I bridge the space between the glass protecting the necklace and me until it’s within my reach, fighting the urge to touch the cool surface. As if under a spell, I observe how the rows of diamonds embedded in platinum form leaves and thorns. At its center is a rose made out of red diamonds almost as big as my palm.

          I feel someone walk up and stand next to me, but I don’t give him or her a second thought as I continue to admire the way the light hits the gems, making them shine.

          “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

          His voice is smooth and commanding, dripping absolute power. I keep my eyes locked on the display. Call it sixth sense, but somehow I know that under no circumstance should I make eye contact with the stranger who speaks like the ruler of the world.

          “Yes,” I say simply.

          “I wonder how much it is?” the man asks.

          “I don’t think it matters … I highly doubt anyone can afford it.”

          He chuckles, and the sound is more delicious than his voice. Lusher. “Oh, but I can.”

          I smile at his self-assurance. I love cocky assholes. “I still doubt it.”

          “You shouldn’t. I only speak the truth,” he retorts coolly. His voice is nonchalant yet his words leave no room for disbelief—a demand and a statement all in one.

          Suddenly, the noises of the room become distant. People talking and laughing amongst friends and the orchestra playing all fade away until all I hear is him speaking.

          And at this moment, that is all that matters.

          “The truth is very subjective, sir.”

          “The truth may be subjective but money isn’t. Money can buy anything.”  

          His answer is like an electroshock, jumpstarting my brain from a champagne-induced haze. My pulse begins to accelerate, excitement making it hard to take a deep breath. Don’t look at him … don’t.

          “Oh really,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s right, though.

          “Of course. I believe everything,” he pauses, “and everyone has a price.”

          Curiosity winning the battle against curiosity, I turn to face him, and what a fucking big mistake that is. When our eyes meet, I feel incapacitated of all sense and movement. The sight of him takes my breath away. This man gives the term “lust at first sight” a whole new meaning.

           In my short twenty-three years, I’ve been with extremely handsome men, perfect even, but to classify the man standing next to me in any kind of category would be a disservice to him, and not really fair to the others. Longish, light brown hair wildly framing his face, vacant eyes the color of dollar bills, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth that begs to be buried deep within your thighs. His beauty is as harsh as it is stunningly perfect. Dressed in a simple black tuxedo and unbuttoned white shirt, the man exudes innate virility and grace, reminding me of a black panther stalking his prey. And just like a panther, it’s the pure raw and powerful energy emanating from within him that I find most attractive. Because just by standing next to him, I get the sense that his word is always the last spoken and his wishes the first ones to be fulfilled. He doesn’t ask, he demands. He doesn’t hope, he expects.

           He’s quiet for a moment; his uncanny eyes hold me captive as though they are baring my soul to him and I hate it. I tighten my hold on the crystal flute. I want to look away, but I can’t. The way he’s staring at me makes me want to squirm.

          “I wonder … do you have one?” he asks softly before turning to examine the piece of jewelry once more.

          “A what?” I ask, momentarily stunned.

          He smiles. “A price.”

          “For the right amount … I just might,” I say quietly, my heart beating so fast it feels as though it wants out of my chest. As soon as the words leave my mouth, there’s no shock coursing down my body, no rolling waves of shame pulling me down for having said that to a complete stranger—nothing.

          And why should there be? I am who I am.

          I’m staring at his profile, waiting for him to acknowledge my answer, when a breeze of cool air floats past us, making me shiver. About to chase the goose bumps on my arm with my hand, I watch as he slowly turns to look at me, catching me staring at him. Time stands still as I watch him raise his large tanned hand and touch my bare shoulder, his fingertips lightly grazing the temporary small bumps covering it. Then he smiles as if he knows that my skin is tingling from his scalding touch, and looks away.

          “I thought so.”

          We remain standing next to each other for another minute or so, the distance between us almost nonexistent. It would be so easy to reach out and hold his hand. The sound of an incoming call breaks the silence, bringing us back to reality.

          He takes his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and ignores the call after noting the name of the caller. He lifts his gaze to meet my own.

“Sorry about that.”

          “It’s okay. I should go … I’m here with someone,” I reply, not really wanting to leave him just yet.

          “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”

          I frown. He didn’t have to be quite so blunt. The stranger extends a hand toward me, holding something in his fingers.

          “Here … ”

          I open my hand as I feel the edges of what I assume is his business card poke the skin of my palm. “What’s this?” I ask stupidly.

          “My business card, of course.”

          “Obviously … but why?”

          He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m an interested buyer.”

          And then he’s gone.

          He turns and walks away from me, disappearing into a sea of colorful gowns and black suits. As the sounds of the party infiltrate my ears once more, I lower my gaze to stare at the simple cream-colored card in my hand. Its simplistic and elegant design draws attention to the name printed in bold black letters on the paper.

          Lawrence Rothschild.

          I smile and let my fingertips trail his name. It depends on what you’re willing to pay, Mr. Rothschild.

Published by Mia Asher
Copyright © 2013 by Mia Asher
OUR REVIEW:
 
 
Easy Virtue = WOAH!
I am a huge fan of Mia’s work and I was beyond excited when  I learned that she was releasing a new novel. I jumped at the opportunity to read Easy Virtue. There is so much I want to say about this novel, but I do not want to spoil it for the people who have not had a chance to read it yet!
First, let’s talk about the heroine, Blaire. Blaire is not normally the type of character that I would like to read about, but Blaire got under my skin in a good way. It is completely true that Blaire is the one you would love to hate. Blaire’s sights are set on rich men that she can use in order to live a lavish lifestyle. Plain and simple, Blaire is a gold digger. She does not care if a man is married or committed. The only thing that Blaire care about is being pampered with all the finest things in life. She does not wear her heart on her sleeve because she knows that the men in her life are only temporary until she finds someone richer. When this happens she is able to walk away without batting her eyes. She is on to bigger and better things…the richer the better! Does Blaire sound like a girl that you can relate to? Your answer is probably not. Give her a chance because she will grow on you. You are able to see a side of Blaire that you would not think existed and that is all due to Ronan.
Blaire already has her sights on her next victim when Ronan appears in her life. Ronan on the other hand is not rich and he does not have the means to support Blaire’s expensive tastes. However Ronan does not view Blaire as a gold digger, he actually sees her for the person that she is and not for the pleasures that she can provide. In other words, Ronan is not the type of man that Blaire would normally waste her time with because he cannot benefit her in any way. However Ronan is a charmer and becomes simply irresistible. The feelings that Ronan causes Blaire to feel is uncharted terriority for her. She has never met a man that actually cares about her and she doesn’t know how to react to it. Blaire just wants to be someone else for a while and enjoy the now. However Blaire’s internal battle is weighting heavy on her mind. The person that Ronan causes Blaire to be is completely different to the person that Blaire projects herself as. Blaire is questioning that maybe love is better than a lavish lifestyle. Blaire is having an internal battle with her heart and her mind. She is to the point where she needs to block out these risky feelings before it is too late. This is not the person that she is and it is time for Blaire to get back on track with her original plan and focus on her next prey. However will her conscience allow it? Will love conquer all?
 
 

About the Author:

Mia Asher

My name is Mia Asher.

I'm a writer, a hopeless romantic, a wanderer, a dreamer, a cynic, and a believer. And, oh yes…I might be a bit crazy - but who isn't?




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Win a Signed Set of A Broken Love Story (Arsen & Easy Virtue)




 

 

THANK YOU!

 

Friday, December 5, 2014

Release Day Blitz for EASY VIRTUE by Author Mia Asher!



 

Are you ready for Blaire?


Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1AhIp7A


Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1rSEK0k


 
 
Blurb

Love is selfish...
 
My name is Blaire.

I'm the bad girl.

The other woman.

The one who never gets the guy in the end.
 
I'm the gold digger.

The bitch.

The one no one roots for.


The one you love to hate.

I hate myself too...


Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine? 


 

Excerpt

Part I

 

Innocence

Past

 

 

What is love?

I dont know.

Ive never had it.

Is it even real?

No, I dont think so. I mean, how can I believe in love when Ive never witnessed it? When it seems to only exist in books and films, or in the lives of more fortunate people than me? Trust me, I know.

Love is my personal chimera.

I am gazing at brown eyes, admiring the richness of the color, the beauty of the man to whom they belong to.

Youre so beautiful, Blaire so wet, he murmurs, his hand going between my legs as he begins to rub me. His fingers spread me open to their soft invasion, tuning my body to his wants and needs, preparing me to be taken as the hot friction of his touch lights a wild fire within my body. Its not the first time he has touched me like this, but each time feels better and betterthe sensations all-consuming and heady.

One finger.

Two fingers.

One finger.

Two fingers.

Over and over again.

His invasion is fast and slow, deep and shallow. His touch is soiled heaven.

As I open my legs wider for him, I wonder if it feels this good because of him or because Im taking something that doesnt belong to me and making it mine.

Oh God I love you, Blaire. I love you I love you …” he pants in my ear.

Dont stop it feels so good, I breathe.

Okay, maybe its because at this moment in time this man thinks he loves me and no one else but me, however false his proclamation may be.

I close my eyes as his lips land on mine. He kisses me softly as if Im made out of gold, kissing me with that familiar mouth Ive seen smile tenderly at me so many times before. The assault of his tongue debilitates me but doesnt incapacitate me.

 

Its four dollars, gorgeous,the cute barista says, smiling at me.

Im about to pay for my cappuccino when I hear a deep, manly voice say, Let me get that for you.

A man wearing a beige suit comes forward, standing next to me as he hands the barista some bills. Ive seen you around youre Paiges friend.

I smile, licking my suddenly dry lips. Thank you, and yes I know Paige.

The smile on his handsome face seems to freeze as his gaze follows the tip of my tongue, the spark of hunger brightening his eyes. Inwardly, I smile because who knew it was so easy to make men desire me, particularly when I went without attention for so long.

My pleasure. Are you,he coughs, here with someone else?

I shake my head and look at him through fluttering eyelashes. No, Im here all by myself.I pause, touching his arm invitingly, and smile. Would you like to join me?

He looks around the coffee shop, probably considering if he should, if its proper to do so, but less than five seconds later, hes staring at me once again. Sure.

Yes, just like that.

 

The beige walls are spinning.

The clock is ticking.

The bedsprings creak as the moon cries outside the motel window.

And the man above me kisses me while he fingers me, preparing me for him. Gotta love such a thoughtful man.

I can taste his sweet saliva mixing with mine, and I love it.

Please, I beg against his lips, reaching for his hard cock and wrapping my fingers around it. Im ready.

I feel his mouth leave mine as he begins to make his way down my partially dressed body. Are you sure, Blaire? Are you sure you want to do this with me?

I open my eyes to witness what I think I want him to do. No, what Im sure I want him to do. I cant help the smile I feel playing on my lips as I see him struggling with his conscience. He asks me if Im sure when he has already fucked my mouth with his cock countless number of times, when his fingers have filled every orifice of my body. Should I laugh? No I decide to take pity instead.

Im sure, so sure, I say, letting my arms land like dead weight on the bed, the cheap fabric rough against my skin.

All right.

When I feel the bed dip between my legs, I instinctively open them for him and watch as he brings a condom package to his mouth. As he rips it open with his teeth, I admire his perfect full lips that emphasize how masculine he is.

I feel pleased with myself.

So fucking pleased because he wants me.

Mr. Callahan wants me. Me. Can you believe it? Chubby Blaire. Ugly and awkward Blaire.

Unlovable Blaire.

I guess Im not that ugly anymore. My body? What was considered fat as a child is now called boobs and ass. Guys want it. They want me. They want to touch me, grope me, feel me they want to screw me. And it feels good to be wanted so good. It makes me feel powerful, and like a potent drug spreading inside your bloodstream, I want more.

I need more.

Hurry up, I say, not bothering to be shy or coy about it. I mean, he brought me here to have sex, right?

Fuck, give me a second, Blaire. Trying to get the damn condom on my dick.
As he rolls the rubber on his stiff dick, his eyes wonder over my bare chest, my face, my spread legs. Shaking his head as if trying to clear his mind, he mutters, Youre so beautiful. I want you so much.

That’s not the first time I have heard those words come out of a mans mouth. Josh tells me all the time how beautiful I am, how perfect I am, how much he wants me, how much he loves me. But hes my friend with benefits. The words kind of lose their meaning when its the same person saying them to you over and over again. 

Show me.

Those two words are all it takes for him to spread my legs wider with his hands and finally enter me with his throbbing dick. Pain shoots through my body, and a groan escapes my mouth when he covers my body with his. I feel his whole length inside me in one deep thrust.

Christ, youre so tight.

He lifts both my legs, wrapping them around his lean waist and starts to thrust. Hard. It hurts. But I like the pain. It sobers me.

And thats when reality comes crashing down on me. It hits me with the speed and blinding power of a torpedo, making me realize what Im doing. What Im giving away and the man doesnt even know it.

What the hell am I doing?

Proving that you are your mothers daughter.

Making her proud.

The room is filled with the noises of the man grunting his pleasure and the wet slapping of our skin; it makes me want to gag.  I want to throw up. Maybe its the alcohol I drank.

Maybe its self-disgust.

The initial pain is gone and now I just feel sore. And strange.

His beautiful face lowers, his lips about to connect with mine, and I feel the bile rise inside my throat. I turn my face to the side, his kiss landing on my cheek. My eyes watch the way the lights in the bathroom illuminate all its used and dirty ugliness.

Oh God, Im going to come Im going to come Im going to come, he continues to pant in my ear, pumping in and out of my body. Before I know whats happening, he half-screams and half groans, his body going tense on top of mine.

And just like that its over. In less than five minutes Ive managed to kill a part of me.

Our breathing evens and he pulls out, moving to stand up. I push myself up on my elbows to see him inspect his condom. It still glistens. By the time he lifts his eyes, connecting with mine, Ive already wrapped my body with the duvet cover.

Confusion, shock, and pleasure reflect in those brown eyes. I-I didnt know I …” His hands go to his hair as we stare at each other. I didnt know you were a virgin.

I shrug my shoulder carelessly, causing the duvet to slide down, exposing my bare breasts to him. His eyes immediately flare with lust. It doesnt matter I wanted it to be you.

And thats the truth.

But—”

But nothing. If it bothers you, then forget it happened. I already did, I say, ending the conversation.

This is my body. I will have the last word. Not him. Not anyone. This is my life. This is my decision.

Without giving myself a chance to doubt my next words, I turn to look at him in all his naked beauty, the gold wedding ring on his finger catching my attention. Dont worry, Mr. Callahan I wont tell your daughter that you fucked her classmate.

And with that, I seal my destiny.

 

 

About the Author:

Mia Asher

My name is Mia Asher.

I'm a writer, a hopeless romantic, a wanderer, a dreamer, a cynic, and a believer. And, oh yes…I might be a bit crazy - but who isn't?

 

 

GIVEAWAY

Win a $50 Gift Card

 
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