Thursday, June 30, 2016

Discover the upcoming new book from Lisa Renee Jones- Hard Rules


Corruption. Family. Betrayal. And a love neither of them were expecting... Wall Street meets the Sons of Anarchy in Hard Rules, the smoldering, scorching first novel in the explosively sexy new Dirty Money series from New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones.

Add Hard Rules to your TBR list:https://bit.ly/HardRulesGoodreads



Buy links and an excerpt http://bit.ly/28RgQu2

A little sneak peek: She shivers, and I press my cheek to hers. “Don’t worry. I plan to heat every chilled spot on your body.” I seal that promise by dragging my lips over her neck, to her jaw, then settling a breath from her mouth, promising a kiss I don’t deliver. I want to taste her, but I don’t. I linger there, teasing her and me, waiting for the reach of her lips and I pull back, my hands flexing over hers.

Discover Mary Jo Putney's Once a Soldier and Enter to win a Print Copy


Don't miss the first in a Brand New Series....Rogues Redeemed!


ONCE A SOLDIER
Rogues Redeemed #1
Mary Jo Putney
Releasing June 28th, 2016
Zebra


ROGUES REDEEMED

As heir to a title and great wealth, Will Masterson should have stayed home and tended his responsibilities. Instead he went to war. Now, after perilous years fighting the French, he intends his current mission to be his last. But all his plans are forgotten when he arrives in the small mountain stronghold of San Gabriel and meets her.

Knowing herself to be too tall, strong, and unconventional to appeal to a man, Athena Markham has always gloried in her independence. But for the first time in her life, she finds a man who might be her match.

Two of a kind, too brave for their own good, Athena and Will vow to do whatever it takes to vanquish San Gabriel’s enemies. For neither will back down from death, and only together can they find happiness and a love deeper than any they'd dared imagine...

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Excerpt:

The tunnel was lined with damp stones and the part Will could see in the dim light slanted upward with horizontal grooves on the bottom to provide traction to anyone crawling through. His eyes narrowed as he evaluated it. An average-sized man could fit in there, but Will was broader than average. Keeping that thought to himself, he said, “Now it’s time to discover if this goes all the way to the surface.”
            “And if there are rats, scorpions, or dead bodies,” Duval said dryly. “I’ll go first. I’m not so large as you great hulking Englishmen, plus I speak the French of a native if I emerge outside and encounter a soldier.”
“Those are good reasons.” Will gestured at the tunnel. “Good luck!”
“I don’t envy you going blind into that tunnel,” Gordon said as he offered the Frenchman a curved, broken piece of pottery. “This isn’t much, but it might be useful against those rats or guards.”
Duval accepted the impromptu weapon with a nod of thanks. “I shall return to tell you what I find.”
Will was sure that he wasn’t the only one praying for success as Duval climbed into the tunnel and began to crawl forward on his belly. The four remaining men waited in silence, listening to the faint sounds of Duval inching upward. He muttered a French curse or two at different times, and then the sounds faded away completely.
“It must be a long tunnel,” Gordon said. His gaze was on the floor, concealing his expression.
“The longer it is, the better chance we have of leaving safely.” Chantry rubbed at his side. “I’ve cracked a rib or two. I didn’t think it was worth binding them when I was going to be shot, but I’d better do something or I won’t be able to crawl.”
Gordon stripped off the shabby greatcoat he was wearing. “I’ll cut this up for the binding.” He used another piece of broken pottery to saw the heavy fabric into strips.
They all worked together to bind Chantry’s ribs, the activity a welcome distraction. Will had just tied off the last bandage when they heard sounds in the tunnel.
A few moments later, Duval’s head emerged. “We are saved!” he said jubilantly. “The tunnel ends in an old stone shed that is one of a cluster of outbuildings. When I looked out, I saw no soldiers near. It is raining, so wise men stay inside.”
As Will helped the muddy Frenchman get his feet safely on the ground, Hawkins said tersely, “Then it’s time we made our escape. Chantry, will you be able to make it up there with your cracked ribs?”
“What’s a little pain compared to fast-approaching dawn?” Chantry replied with a twisted smile. “I’ll make it.”
“The rest of you go first,” Will said. “If the tunnel is too narrow for me, I don’t want to block anyone else from getting away.”
Duval frowned as he studied the width of Will’s shoulders. “It will be difficult but not, I think, impossible. Perhaps you should remove your coat and shirt. A small difference might be enough. I will carry your garments up the tunnel for you.”
“Good idea.” By the time Will had removed his coat and shirt, Gordon, Chantry, and Hawkins were crawling toward escape. Chantry gasped with pain as Hawkins helped him up into the tunnel, but he didn’t complain, just started inching doggedly upward.
Duval wrapped Will’s garments in a tight, flat bundle, then used his cravat to tie them to his lower back. “The tunnel is tight and somewhat damaged in places, but I do think you will be able to get through. I will not be far ahead. If you get into trouble, call. We will find a way to bring you to freedom.”
Will had his doubts that would be possible, but he appreciated the sentiment. “If I become impossibly stuck, for God’s sake, get away! There’s no point in all of us dying.”
 “I am not so easily dismissed, Masterson,” Duval retorted. “I shall see you on the surface.” He climbed into the tunnel and began working his way up again.
Will took a deep breath, then followed. He was not fond of confined spaces at the best of times, and the climb out through stifling blackness would haunt his dreams for years, assuming he made it out. Even without his coat and with his bare torso slick with water and mud from the damp, there were times he thought he was lethally stuck. He learned how tightly his shoulders and chest could be compressed, and it was barely enough.
The tightest place was the very end, where the tunnel opened into the shed. After two attempts, Will grimly accepted his fate. “I can’t make it,” he said flatly. “Leave without me.”
“You damn well will make it!” Gordon retorted. “Back up a couple of yards and cover your head while we widen this hole.”
Will summoned enough strength to back down a few feet and wrap his arms over his head before debris began falling on him. It took only minutes before Gordon said, “All clear!” Then he extended a hand into the tunnel.
Grateful for the help, Will managed to crawl the short distance out onto a cold, muddy floor. He lurched to his feet, then pulled on the shirt and coat Duval had carried for him, grateful for any slight warmth.
“Quickly now,” Chantry said. “The night is almost over and we must get away. We’re in luck. The building to our right is a stable and Hawkins has liberated five horses. I know roughly where we are and can lead us to open country. As soon as we step outside, we must be swift and silent. Ready, Masterson?”
After Will nodded, Chantry opened the door of the shed. The heavy rain made the darkness almost impenetrable, but Will could make out the shapes of the horses just outside. Hawkins had managed to bridle and saddle the animals, after stealing them.
The men swiftly mounted, Hawkins helping the injured Chantry into his saddle. They saved the largest horse for Will. Chantry led and set the pace, a slow walk so as not to attract attention. Will was sure the other men shared his desire to gallop away at full speed, but he knew Chantry was right to be cautious.
Occasional lights started showing in windows as people rose to begin morning chores. But the houses thinned until finally they were out of the city. Chantry increased their pace to a trot, then a canter. Cold, wet, and uncomfortable as the ride was, Will much preferred it to the escape from the cellar. If he was shot now, at least he’d die free.
By the time they’d put several miles between themselves and Gaia, the sun had risen and the rain had ended, though it was still heavily overcast. Chantry led them into a protected thicket and came to a halt. With effort, he dismounted, one hand rubbing his ribs. “Time for us to go our separate ways, gentlemen.”
The other riders also dismounted, gathering in a circle as they held their horses. Looking up at the sky, Gordon murmured, “I never thought a wet, cold day could be so beautiful. Knowing I should be dead adds savor to the morning.”
“We all contributed to our successful escape,” Duval said pensively. “Facing death creates an interesting bond of brotherhood, does it not?”
Indeed it did. As Will looked at the faces of his companions, he realized how unselfishly they’d worked together. He knew almost nothing of any of them, yet he truly did feel a sense of connection from shared danger. “Though we may be self-proclaimed rogues, you’re all men I’d like at my side in any future tight places.”
“Rogues may be more useful in tight places than honorable men,” Hawkins said, amused. His voice turned serious. “Facing death was simple, but now we face hard reality again. How many of us will attempt the redemption we discussed? I intend to.”
Gordon gave a twisted smile. “I’ll make a start at it.”
Chantry looked gray-faced from pain, but his voice was firm. “I said I would take up my long-neglected responsibilities, and I like to think I’m a man of my word.”
Duval sighed. “What is done can’t be undone. Perhaps there can be reconciliation, if not redemption. I should make the attempt.”
After they had shared a dark night and imminent death, it was strange to think Will would not see any of these men again. Strange and wrong. “If this war ever ends,” he said tentatively, “perhaps those of us who survive may meet again in London and exchange lies about our heroic deeds and redemptions.”
“The Brotherhood of Rogues Redeemed!” Duval said grandly. “I like the idea, but we shall need a point of contact in London for sending messages so we might find each other.”
Will thought a moment. “Hatchard’s bookstore in Piccadilly. I know the owner.” In fact, Will was a major customer. “I’ll ask him to keep any letters he receives that are addressed to the Rogues Redeemed, and that they can be read by any of us that call at the store. I’ll give him the names we’re all using tonight.”
Chantry grinned. “Because we might be lying about our identities? I like your suspicious mind.” Wincing from pain, he stretched a hand into the center of the close circle of riders. “May we meet again in more auspicious times!”
Will clasped Chantry’s hand. The others did the same in a five-way handshake that made their agreement somehow more real. When they released their grips, Will swung back into his saddle, thinking he was grateful to have met these men in these circumstances.
He hoped they all survived to meet again someday





Mary Jo Putney is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has written over 60 novels and novellas. A ten-time finalist for the Romance Writers of America RITA, she has won the honor twice and is on the RWA Honor Roll for bestselling authors. In 2013 she was awarded the RWA Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Though most of her books have been historical romance, she has also published contemporary romances, historical fantasy, and young adult paranormal historicals. She lives in Maryland with her nearest and dearest, both two and four footed.


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Release Blitz~ Forevermore and a Giveaway


Title: Forevermore
Author: Kristen Callihan
Series: Darkest London, #7
On Sale: June 28, 2016
Publisher: Forever
Formats: Mass Market & eBook
Price: $7.99 USD


Isolated and alone, Sin Evernight is one of the most powerful supernatural creatures in heaven and on earth. As an angel of vengeance, he hunts down the darkest evil, but when his long-lost friend, Layla Starling, needs him, he vows to become her protector. Even though she will be horrified by the man he has become.

Now a famous singer and the toast of London, Layla believes that Sin is only here to guard her from rabid fans and ardent suitors. However, the truth is far more sinister. Desperate to avoid losing Layla a second time, Sin will face a test of all his powers to defeat an unstoppable foe - and win an eternity with the woman he loves.

Excerpt:

One might think being an immortal was a blessing, never grow old, never grow sick, never die. At one time in St. John Evernight’s life, he considered it a blessing too. He would be around long after the simple humans who surrounded him were nothing but dust. They could stare all they liked at his “strange” hair and frosty green eyes. They could gossip and speculate about him until they lost their voices. It didn’t matter. He was untouchable, and they were but fragile sacks of blood and bone.
How naive he’d been. Because living forever merely meant a lack of escape from the desolation of regret and loneliness. He knew now that he could walk down Jermyn Street endlessly, see the sands of time shift and rearrange before him, and never be a part of life.
“Brooding, Mr. Evernight?”
Sin almost jumped at the sudden sound of Augustus’s voice by his side. Damn, the blasted man loved to startle him. He gave Augustus a passing glance. Dressed in conservative brown tweed and a bowler hat, the angel appeared every inch the English gentlemen, save for his dark coloring that marked him to be from Southern climes.
“It’s really quite the trick, popping up like a soap bubble whenever you choose, Augustus. You must teach me how one day.”
The man’s mouth twitched. “With your luck, you’d pop up in the middle of a parliamentary session.”
Yes, Sin had abominable luck. Or perhaps it was more a matter of making abominable choices.
“You’re brooding again,” Augustus remarked.
“I’m not brooding. This is simply my face.”
Augustus snorted but remained silent as they walked along, past Trafalgar Square and down Whitehall.  
“Care to tell me why you called me here?” Sin asked, when they came upon the grounds of Westminster. For the past year, Sin had been in Rome, soaking in the warmer temperatures, drinking espresso in cafes along the Piazza della Rotunda, under the shade of the ancient Pantheon. He’d eaten simple but delicious food, and listened to the rapid fire of Italian, and felt…well, not peace, but a measure of contentment.
Until Augustus had sent for him. Returning to England sat like a stone in his gut. But he would obey. Augustus was his mentor, and the man who’d given him salvation. The price was a lifetime of servitude. To be fair, his role was for justice, not evil, which was a nice change of pace.
A massive dray rattled past, kicking up dust and sending a fug of stale manure into the air. They hurried past the cloud and headed for Westminster Abbey. Sin hadn’t planned on visiting today, but here they were all the same. He wondered if Augustus somehow had led him to their usual meeting place or if Sin had merely headed that way because of the man’s sudden arrival.
He’d like to think the latter. It did not sit well with him having another control his actions. Not since a certain evil fae had kept Sin as a blood slave for years. Even now, the memory made his stomach turn.
Not a soul acknowledged them as they walked through the abbey and into the cloisters. Here, a rare bit of sunlight peeked through the constant cloud cover and cast lacy shadows along the walkway. The sound of their boot heels clacked out a steady rhythm as they strolled along.
 “Layla returns to London tonight.”
At the mention of her name, Sin’s heart stilled within his breast. He’d tried his best to ward off all finer feelings, to remain numb, detached from life. And yet he could not, for the life of him, remain immune to Layla Starling. His childhood friend. The one woman who could take his breath, his reason, simply by laying eyes upon her.
Stuffing his shaking hands into his trouser pockets, Sin forced himself to keep an even tone. “So then I am to begin watching over her?”
God, but he did not want to. It would be agony, staying so close to her and never being allowed to show his true feelings. And yet a thrum of anticipation went through him at the mere prospect of seeing Layla once more.
 “Are you ready?” Augustus asked, though his expression told Sin he fully expected an affirmative answer.
So Sin told him the only truth left to him. “I will not fail her.”



BUY THE BOOK HERE




THE FULL DARKEST LONDON SERIES


Firelight, #1
Moonglow, #2
Winterblaze, #3
Shadowdance, #4
Evernight, #5
Soulbound, #6
Forevermore, #7


AUTHOR INFORMATION


USA Today bestselling author Kristen Callihan is a writer because there is nothing else she'd rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewers' Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book, Firelight, received RT Book Reviews' Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher's Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.



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WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ ALL ABOUT CASSI 10



Come join us in our expose' on Cassi from BEYOND THE THRESHOLD.  She is a fun-loving, full-bodied hottie, who has her own unique look and style.  We thought it would be fun to expose, with emphasis on the word expose some of her outfits over the next several weeks.

ALL ABOUT CASSI




The night of the Body Paint party Cassi and Beef went to Beef's condo.  They showered together.  It was a two person shower with a rain shower head that poured over them in a continuous spray. 

After being soaked, she handed him a bar of wild flower scented soap, she had left there.  She liked as he gathered up a lather in his large hands, hands that knew her body so intimately.  Cassi lifted her arms, spread her legs a bit, offering him full access to every part of her. 

He slowly soaped her, from the bottom up, rubbing away the colorful paint to expose the perfect smooth canvass of her skin.  Each leg took a ceaseless effort of gently rubbing.  The painted-on stockings were an untold level of detail that took time to dissolve.  Ankle to calf, calf to knee, knee to thigh, thigh to hip, inner thigh to labia, his powerful attentive hands lathered and removed the colors.  Did he linger?  Why, yes?  Where?  There.  And  there.  And especially there. 

His ministrations were exceptionally gentle, but enticingly provocative, especially her pussy mound, using a circular motion that oft swiped over her clit until she wiggled under his hands, puffed out her hips, urging more.  Beef, though, cleansed with purpose, wanting to linger but also wanting to finish, for he obviously had a purpose to finish and begin another type of stroking.

Re-lathering his hands, he slid them upward, with a slow continuous movement.  He surveyed his artistry a second longer then the feathers were soaped clean from her nipples, again he used the circular motion, making her nipples pucker and harden, making them deepen in color as he continued to rub and flick off paint layers.  Finally, those nipples were taste-tested to see if he had done a good job. 

Cassi adored Beef's attention to her.  She found most men were always in a rush toward gratification.  Beef was about the journey, and flaming her erotic, endless fire aroused him just as much as her sexual lack of inhibition.  She found his patience one of his greatest assets, and she discovered herself losing control to him in ways that had once been alien to her playful nature.  It wasn't just the sexual fantasy, but a connection that was real, and amazingly that made her even more passionate.  She turned, nuzzling her back into his huge chest, encouraging him to message her breasts.

The sounds of gentle lovers, migrated into the passion of wild lovers, when she bent at the waist, and he entered her.  The plunge offering a spasm of contractions that imitated an orgasm, promising something even more wild and lasting. 

He teased as he planted his cock, "I'm your behymen."

"Be... hind... me."

"Holding handfuls of tit, Beef pulled and pushed.

"Boy, dance that chocolate cha-cha... dance."

The movement resulted in her pounding her head on the side wall, a primal response without thought.  "Don't slow-up," she encouraged through winded gasps.

Beef wildly animal fucked her.  Water continued to tickle their flesh.  Steam rose around them.  Her bracing hand the only imprint breaking the gray foggy coating on the shower doors.

"Tell me when you are ready to cum," asked Cassi, her own orgasms twice done and building again.

He did, Cassi turned, got to knees, and helped his penis ejaculate on her face.  Beef moaned in satisfaction.

The shower water, whisked the jism drain-ward.

"Is there no end to your magic?" asked Beef.

"Why look for it?"  She looked up and there was an arrow pierced heart on the door. 


Blurb for BEYOND THE THRESHOLD
It didn-t shock Sheriff Adam McGreggor to discover the owner of the local seaside nightclub was once part of a sect. Hannah Holt-s entire appearance and attitude just didn-t fit her profession. Her reluctance to press charges against an assailant that left her battered and drugged, however, did shock Adam to his core. Even more jolting was his instantaneous attraction to this woman who fought his every advance.
But Hannah has a secret he cannot begin to fathom ... she is from a parallel world....
***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a free ebook (choose erotic or romantic thriller) and add you to any future mailings.



Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com










Book Spotlight & Giveaway~ A King and a Pawn


Welcome author Liv Olteano today as we discover their new book, A King and a Pawn. Don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end of the post for a chance wo win the first two books from the author. The contest ends on July 8th. The tour is sponsored by Pride Promotions.

Now let's check out A King and a Pawn....


Series: Leader Murders
 Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: AngstyG
Release Date: June 17, 2016

Bert Cooper’s life used to be great, until his sister turned out to be a traitor. Now Bert feels the whole pack looks on him with doubt and suspicion. To prove his loyalty, he volunteers to be the first ambassador at Fey Court, gathering information to finally solve the Leader Murders and punish those plotting against the Council and community. At least, that was the plan….

When Bert meets Sir William Matthew Sims, Court Interrogator, and one hell of a sexy man, life becomes a balancing act. And when the Fey King is assassinated, things become really messy.

Pack politics, fey politics, treason, suspicions of treason…. Bert has to choose between being ruled by his fears or standing up for what—and who—he believes in. And it might just break his heart.

Pages or Words: 234 pages, 82,000 words

Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Mystery, Parnormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy, Wolf Shifters

Excerpt from A King and a Pawn by Liv Olteano:

“Would you take me in as a trophy, Bert?” he asked, smiling oddly, a sort of indulgent look in his eyes.
I wasn’t going to outsmart him, that was for sure. Luckily I didn’t think I had to.
“I wouldn’t be taking you in at all. You and your kids would simply accompany me. I’m sure you can find something of value to offer me so I’ll be willing to go that way. And then you’d find something of value to offer Weiss and the Council to give you guys, say, political asylum?”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure you did. I don’t think you’re a fool, Will. I’m sure you’re not, in fact. So I’m giving you the courtesy of not treating you as one. A courtesy I hope you’ll give me too.”
“Implying that I have not so far?” he asked, stepping toward me again.
My pulse spiked. “I wasn’t implying that at all.”
We were face-to-face, a step apart at most. My mind stuttered over the few stray thoughts I managed to recognize. It was unusual someone’s presence would affect me this much, this soon. Was he that special? Was our chemistry that special? Or was he using some sort of spell on me? I didn’t think that was beneath him. Magic wasn’t beneath any magic-wielding fey, just like changing into a wolf wasn’t beneath me as werewolf. It was a natural part of who we were. I just wasn’t that used to his natural part, and the very idea made me smile.
“What could I offer you that you’d like to have?” he asked as his breath touched my face with every word he uttered.
“Oh, I could think of several things,” I replied.
He leaned toward me. His lips brushed against mine now when he spoke. “I could think of several things I’d like to offer you as well.”
I gulped. Shit, I couldn’t think with my dick. Not now at least. I so wanted to. It would be so easy to whisper it sweetly: “Fuck my brains out and I’ll be on your side.” But I wasn’t here for shits and giggles, so I couldn’t. There was no reason I couldn’t hope I’d get a fuck out of the situation somewhere down the line. The more time we spent together, the better chance of that happening. That was pretty solid motivation to spin things in a way that would benefit us all in the end. There. I wasn’t doing this for my selfish fuck-greedy self but for the greater good. I was a fucking humanitarian, feyitarian, whateveritarian.
“I’ll only ask for one small thing for myself,” I whispered softly.
He brushed his lips against mine. The touch sent little fiery thrills down my nerve endings, from the skin of my lips right to the pulsing muscle of my heart. I felt his breath hitch at the contact, and the idea it might affect him almost as much as it was affecting me sent a shiver down my spine. We could have been faking it, both of us. This was a negotiation of sorts, and now was the time to bring on our top game. But I felt it in my gut that this connection was real, that it wasn’t bullshit for either one of us. I just knew it in the pit of my stomach. I wondered if he knew it too, as clearly as I did right in that instant.
His scent didn’t assault my senses since he’d been hanging out in my personal space for a while now. My senses were bathed in his scent already. But I could feel the pounding of his heart as I deepened the kiss; I could feel his muscles clench and unwind with sensual tension while my body sang with it. Fuck me sideways, I wanted him right now. I wanted him so bad it almost gutted me. The feel of him languidly moving his tongue against mine made my blood turn into liquid fire, scalding my insides and bringing up my body temperature to heights I didn’t think I’d felt before after just kissing. Everything in my body screamed, This. This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for, for so fucking long!
“What do you want?” he asked after he pulled back, his forehead leaning against mine.
Fuck, fuck it, fuck! “I want all the information you can get from the Archives on a certain topic.”



Tour Dates & Stops:
30-Jun

1-Jul


 Meet the author:

Liv Olteano is a voracious reader, music lover, and coffee addict extraordinaire. And occasional geek. Okay, more than occasional.

She believes stories are the best kind of magic there is. And life would be horrible without magic. Her hobbies include losing herself in the minds and souls of characters, giving up countless nights of sleep to get to know said characters, and trying to introduce them to the world. Sometimes they appreciate her efforts. The process would probably go quicker if they’d bring her a cup of coffee now and then when stopping by. Characters—what can you do, right?

Liv has a penchant for quirky stories and is a reverent lover of diversity. She can be found loitering around the Internet at odd hours and being generally awkward and goofy at all times.


Where to find the author:





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WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ EVEN AN ARMADILLO NEEDS LOVE

  The singular most important emotion a human spirit craves is to be loved. It seeks it out. It needs it. It craves it. Walk into an...