Friday, August 16, 2013

The Dumont Diaries by Alessandra Torre - Promo & Giveaway


The Dumont Diaries covers a strippers transition into life as a trophy wife, and her discovery that her new husband is not as he seems.

***I was going to do a review on all four, however to keep the suspense until the release of the entire series I have decided to withhold my review until after it's release. All I will say is that this series is definitely worth the read.***
Candace Tapers’ life finally takes an upward swing when Nathan Dumont, shipping heir and notorious playboy, sweeps her away to a lifestyle of wealth and privilege. But that life comes with strings, and she is soon pulled in directions she never expected, discovering secrets and ulterior motives in the man who shares her bed.
The Dumont Diaries is a four-part miniseries, each book roughly 60 pages long. The books will be released a week apart from each other, starting on August 10th.

Release Dates and Pricing:
Book 1: To Have - August 10th, price: $.99
Book 2: To Hold - August 17th, price: $1.99
Book 3: Till Death - August 24th, price: $.99
Book 4: Do Us Part - August 31st, price $2.99
To Have (Dumont Diaries Book 1) EXCERPT:

He leans forward and kisses me, and I suddenly don’t need the image of dollar bills to distract my mind. Everything floods the moment his lips touch mine.
Soft, sweet lips. Not what I expect from this commanding man. He brushes my lips softly, my lips parting for him, immediately wanting more. A groan slips from my mouth before I have a chance to capture it. His hands move up through my hair, gripping and pulling its strands. He tastes me, spreading my lips gently with his and dipping his tongue inside. I respond eagerly, my body taking over my mind, shoving it aside forcefully as a wave of arousal hits me. His touch turns harder, his mouth more demanding and he moves me backward, my heels skittering over tile, 'til the edge of the table is against me.
His hands grip my ass, squeezing it roughly, one hand on each cheek and lifts me easily, setting me on the table, the surface cool against my skin.
“Lay down,” he bites out against my mouth, taking one, last, torturous sweep with his tongue before he pulls off, stepping back and watching me.
I grip the glass top, sliding backward until my elbows are resting on the glass. I watch him, watch as he unbuttons his sleeves. He breathes hard, his eyes glued to mine and walks towards me, stopping a foot from the table.

To Hold (Dumont Diaries Book 2):

9:01 a.m. His hard glare pins me in the doorway as soon as I slide open the glass door. He stands in the kitchen, the island between us, six foot of gorgeous constrained by a custom suit. I can see the anger in his eyes, his face turning into a scowl as he mutters something to Drew.  Drew makes a sharp gesture with his head, the message clear, and I step backwards, pulling the glass sliding door closed, the summer heat settling around me like a hot, scratchy, sweater. I stand there for a moment, feeling the sun stare down on me like a prissy schoolteacher. Bad Jennifer. Get out Jennifer.

Anger seeps through me in waves, commingling with frustration and leaving me furious. Why is he so difficult! Am I that irritating? My mere presence that unbearable to his peace of mind? My clothes, the proper blend of luxury and sex, are suddenly thick and constricting, the tight wool-blend top ridiculous in the summer humidity. I feel a sudden surge of recklessness, pushed relentlessly by the wave of hot claustrophobia that seizes my entire body. I yank at the sleeveless turtleneck, pulling it over my head, feeling a moment of euphoria when the hot fabric hits the white pavers. My skirt follows, one quick zip down. I stare at my nude thigh high lace stockings, ridiculous given the fact that they were put on solely for his eyes, no need for stockings in June, slid on in the pathetic hope that he might, on this day, grant me a session with his cock.  I slip out of my heels, rolling the expensive sheer fabric down my long legs, flipping my head up to find him and Drew staring at me through the glass, an expression of horror on Drew’s face. Nathan simply watches, a cold look of disinterest in his eyes. Oh, look. There is my wife. Throwing a temper tantrum in front of the staff.

I stare into his eyes, my body covered by only a sheer shelf bra and a barely existent thong. I can only hope my eyes communicate the fury radiating through my body, my hurt at his neglect, at his snub of me and the corner of his world that I inhabit. Then, I dive.

The water shocks me. I am forbidden from the pool, my hair stylist repeatedly preaching the harm that chlorine will cause to my now-expensive tresses. Nathan agreed, adding a new rule to my long list. No swimming. So I am unprepared for its cool embrace, the smooth grip of moisture that instantly refreshes my sticky skin, sliding bubbles across my surface. I come up for air, the sun’s heat suddenly friendly and warm on my face, tickling me as it slides droplets of water off of my face. Then I duck back into the underwater world, and don’t come up for quite some time.

Till Death(Dumont Diaries Book 3) EXCERPT:

“What happens to my father upon my death?” I am fingering the buttons of a Chanel blouse, one I took the tags off of this morning, wondering if it is salvageable with only half its buttons. Nathan had ripped it open without concern for the fine fabric, his need too great for something as silly as unbuttoning.

Nathan’s head snaps so quickly that I hear a bone pop, his expression alarmed. “What do you mean?”

I drop the shirt and reach for my skirt, stepping into it sans underwear, not wanting to hunt for them in the sheets of Nathan’s bed. “I mean, if I die – what happens to my father? Would you continue to provide for his care?” I shouldn’t have said anything. One of the unwritten rules, made clear by Nathan’s attitude, is that I get up and leave after sex. No chit chat, no goodbye kiss. Feet to door, in silence, as soon as possible.

“Do you plan on dying?” His face was almost distraught, his question spoken quickly and urgently. Obviously suicide would clash with his carefully laid plans.

“No. I don’t think anyone plans on dying. But what would happen if I do? The agreement doesn’t mention anything about that.” The omission indicates to me that my father will be left high and dry upon my expiration.

He frowns. “I can have my attorney draft an amendment. I didn’t expect your father to outlive you.” His blue eyes lock with mine, studying me carefully, and I wonder if I have made a mistake in asking the question, if I am raising suspicions that will only make my escape more difficult.

“I would like that,” I say quietly, zipping up the side of my skirt.

He fastened the buttons of his shirt, his expression grave. “Then I’ll do it this week.”

This week. I need to leave, his face showing the thoughts that are running through his head. I ball up the broken shirt in my hand, and scoop up my heels, leaving the room and heading outside, wanting to put distance between us before he starts asking questions of his own.

Do Us Part (Dumont Diaries Book 4) EXCERPT:

He lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist and carries me to the bed, our mouths fighting a frantic battle of ownership. When he bends, settling me softly on the bed, I pull back, taking a moment to study his face so close to mine. His thick brows rested perfectly above dark blue eyes, the color of deep water and just as dangerous, rimmed with thick dark lashes.  His nose is slightly burnt, evidence of our time in the sun, the effect only reinforcing his All-American perfect bone structure. Those lips, full, pink, kissably irresistible. I reach up, needing him closer, needing confirmation that he is, in fact, here with me. That he is, in fact, mine in this one moment of time. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him back down to my mouth.   

Lust is a dangerous thing. It can make you believe things that are not real. It can seduce your mind and lead it blindfolded to the cliff that will be its demise. Nathan takes me to that cliff, my body bending and molding beneath his, my heart coming up for air in between soft caresses with his mouth while his cock hammers out a slick, rapid motion. I gasp, I arc, I dive.  I’m not na├»ve enough to think that it has been lust this entire time. I’ve known what was sneaking in, looking for an opening and begging for admittance. But here, in this island paradise, sharing a bed and conversation with this beautiful specimen of a man… here I can feel the final ties of restraint loosening, allowing the scary thing called love to work its way in.

The afternoon sun is streaming through our open window when he comes, the orgasm ripping through him, his body heaving and bucking inside me, my name ripped from his throat as he gives a few final thrusts, his thighs trembling against me as he buries himself fully inside of me.
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Alessandra Torre is a new author who focuses on contemporary erotica. Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, was published in July 2012, and was an Erotica #1 Bestseller for two weeks.

Alessandra lives in Florida and is married, with one young child. She enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and playing with her dogs. Her favorite authors include Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn, and Jennifer Crusie.
Learn more about Alessandra on her website at www.alessandratorre.com, or you can find her on Twitter (@ReadAlessandra) or her Facebook fanpage.






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