It's BANE time, y'all!What, what? I know, about damn time, right? Here's what happened . . . I went on an actual real life vacation and relaxed *gasp*. 

And now we're back and right on track. Ready to show our man Bane some loving? (Fair warning: you might have to go through Kiki to get to him, and she is not a chick to be messed with). 

ALL THE INTEL:
Bane, Bad Boys of X-Ops IV <--Elite Operatives romance
Coming July 27th!

Amazon ($0.99 preorder)
Goodreads

BLURB
High stakes.
Low margins.
And everyone wants the woman I’m teamed up with dead.

BANE
Swagger, strut, snarl. Three things I can do with both eyes closed. Oh, and shoot the shit out of tangos. I always do my job, whether it’s patching up a fellow operative or taking down a serious threat. Apparently this time my job is to babysit Baby Spy.

We’ve followed the Los Reyes de Guerra cartel to the drug-trafficking capital, Mexico City. Our orders? Get in with the guerrillas and ultimately take them down. There’s only one problem—I have another set of mission directives linked to Kiki AKA Baby Spy.

Should be easy enough. Except it seems I’ve developed an unhealthy attraction to Kiki, along with an inconvenient conscience. She’s a wild woman with an unforgiving attitude that definitely makes me bone hard for her.

Nothing is as it appears, least of all Kiki Damage.

KIKI
Yeah. They call me Baby Spy. I’m fully aware the entire T-Zone team blames me for narking out a previous mission gone wrong. So, I can’t understand why the powers that be assigned me to this op. Or maybe I can, which just makes my situation even more dire.

I know Bane wants me, but I’m beginning to think he has an ulterior motive for keeping me close. And it’s not just the panty-melting hot sex with the big, gruff, silent killer. There’s something incredibly vulnerable in the way Bane watches me, like he’s looking for one last saving grace.

None of that matters now. When the situation heats up, I find out Bane’s real mission. I may have fallen in love with him, but it’s already too late. This entire web of lies goes a lot higher than any of us ever imagined, and my neck is only the first one on the line.

Bane includes a special series epilogue from the badass women: Jade, Tilly, Blaize, and Kiki.

Come and get JUSTICE . . .► ► ► #OneClick #KU #BuyNow ◄ ◄ ◄
Amazon: http://goo.gl/qbdBXK
Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/Im2nNm
Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/XxS6Kb
Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/2uLfwH
Awesome early reviews!
“Well I’ve fallen MORE in love with an author. I mean seriously, Rie Warren, you sure know how to write seriously hot military romance!!
The thing is, as hot as it truly is, it’s got so much story and action and angst and heart….just wow!” ~ 5 stars, Amazon reviewer
 
“Rie Warren is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors, I LOVE this series! Walker, book 1, was my favorite book of the year and I think Justice might be #2.” ~ 5 stars, Wicked Reads

Fight to win.
Fight to survive.
Fight for love?
 
JUSTICE
Let’s face it. I’ve got a bad rep with the ladies. I’m a rough-talking, smooth-loving, international playboy--yeah right, whatever—and an X-Ops specialist. Sure, I’m hiding a secret or two. Who isn’t? That’s the least of my concerns when I’m called in to lead an infiltrate-and-retrieve mission.
 
I’ve got my head in the game—the one firmly attached to my shoulders. An American embassy overseas is under siege, and I’m expecting to rescue the ambassador and his daughter, a stereotypical geeky damsel in distress, Matilda Lawless.
 
Caught in the crossfire between explosive danger and wild desire, I’m in for the shock of my life.
 
TILLY
I’m not looking for any man to save me. I’m pretty damn capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I have a successful career and was practically born and bred on a gun range, even if I can’t bake a perfect biscuit to save my life like a good southern woman should.
 
But there’s just something about that hardcore operative called Justice. He’s haunted and lonely, and I know that pain inside and out. It doesn’t hurt one little bit he’s been blessed with more than his fair share of good looks, plus a body that would make any red-blooded woman drool.
 
Barricaded inside the embassy, under my father’s shrewd eyes, I intend to have Justice no matter how many times he says he’s not good enough. I see the way he watches me. With dirty, sexy, hungry lust.
 
Fighting is what Justice does. Now I need him to fight for me.  
 
Warning: Graphic sex, graphic action, graphic language. Triple X caution.
 
Bad Boys of X-Ops—four part series:
Walker: Available now
Justice: Now available!
Storm: May 23rd. Preorder now!
Bane: Coming soon

There's a STORM brewing . . . 

Hey, y'all! Well, it's gonna be a helluva sexy spring, I can tell you that much. I've just finished the rough draft for STORM, JUSTICE comes on Monday *squee*, and after I bathe myself in wine tonight (kidding. What waste of good wine. The wine is going in my mouth ;-)), I'm going to start working on the 4th and final BAD BOYS OF X-OPS book--BANE--for June release!

And then plans. Oh, the plans I have. (If you're trying to picture me right now, I'm gleefully rubbing my hands together--without spilling a drop of wine. So talented). ​

STORM COMING MAY 23rd!

Danger.
Lust. 
Desire . . . Trust? 
 
STORM 
I’m headed back to the Blood Legion MC in New Orleans, my old stomping grounds. Guns. Thugs. Broads. Cocaine nightmares. A Mexican cartel, cracker coke runners, and now there’s a new international threat in town.
 
Blaize Carmichael is my only partner in this op. Blaize. As a biker babe. Jeeesus. I’ve had a bone for her from day one when she walked into headquarters—haughty, superior, and always in charge.
 
There’s a goddamn good chance we’ll get made, played, and put in the grave as government-issue traitors. But I can’t help it—I love to get rough, raw, dirty, and dominant with her.
 
No more yes ma’am, no ma’am. Blaize is about to find out I don’t always takes orders as issued.
 
BLAIZE
I can’t stand the way Storm calls me woman or cher or sexy. As soon as we’re back in DC, I’m going to wipe that infuriating wicked smirk right off his dangerously handsome face.
 
I’m always prepared for every scenario. I’ve built my career on complete professionalism in and out of the field. But when Storm comes at me with wild animal lust—when he opens up to me--when he opens me up, I can’t say no.
 
I don’t want to.
 
We’re in danger every single day we stay in NOLA. There is no way we can make it out alive. Not together. Not this time. ​

Exclusive first excerpt from Storm, Bad Boys of X-Ops III (a little bit of yuckity-yuck-yuck from the dudes):
 
PEDESTRIAN WALKING ALONGSIDE the inner streets of London was safe from Bane when he was behind the wheel of the fast, fancy car. Fuck, I wasn’t even safe, and I was sitting inside the vehicle right beside him.
“They drive on the left side of the road here, pahdnah.” I gritted my teeth, holding onto the fucking dainty oh shit bar in the Jaguar XKR-S GT.
“I know. I’m trying to throw them off our scent. And don’t call me pahdnah, you Cajun half-breed hillbilly.”
“Don’t know where you come off callin’ me hillbilly. You’re just another piece-of-trash street thug.” I snarled.
Bane shifted down, taking the hairpin turn with a squeal of tires and a wide grin I wanted to punch right off his face.
I glanced back, checking out the rear window to make sure we weren’t being tailed too closely.
I encountered Walker’s face as he sat in the backseat. He looked ready to puke all over his new shoes. His normally, naturally copper-colored skin as pale as thin smoke, and sweat popped out on his forehead.
When I straightened around, I tried pumping my foot on the brake pedal that wasn’t there. “Fuck’s sake, Bane. Is this a one-way street?”
“Looks like it,” he muttered, staring at the oncoming traffic in the tiny brick-paved lane.
Honking the horn with the heel of his palm, he swerved up onto the sidewalk. He narrowly avoided clipping an innocent civilian before taking a swift right that put us back onto a double-lane street.
“Jesus Christ.” I swiped my forehead. “Someone sure named you right. You definitely gotta be the biggest motherfuckin’ bane of my existence.”
“Them’s some mighty refined words for a no-count country boy.” Twisting the wheel into a hard right, Bane looked briefly back to make sure no one followed us.
“I worked my way into this job just like you did, thuggy, I just didn’t commit crimes along the way."
Bane laid more rubber tread on the road, punching down and making the engine scream through crowded streets. He swerved in and out of standstill traffic, raced over a bridge, and brought us to a slamming halt that spun the Jag one hundred and eighty degrees in its tracks.
“Missed a turn,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
I reached for my holster. The holster that was missing. Walker bitched and moaned in the back, taking up where I’d left off.
We were all weaponless and not a single one of us was happy about being stripped of our sidearms, knives, or brass knuckles. Or, in Walker’s case, semtex and C-4.
Bane chewed his lower lip, his eyes darting between the windshield, rearview, and sideview mirrors.
With another gut-twisting turn like the aerobatic aeronautical tailslides I liked to maneuver in an airplane just for the sheer fucking fun of it, Bane’s eyes lit up.
“Jesus cunting Christ! Why don’t you just take the next corner on rails?” I braced myself against the dashboard to stop from sailing headfirst through the windshield.
Tailslides worked better when I was at the controls. In a plane. Without goddamn Bane. Jeeeesus.
“Good idea.”
And so he did.
Couillon.
Walker was heard gulping down his gorge, quietly trying not to retch all over the backseat.
“You still blame me for what went down?” Bane stomped on the gas, sending the transmission into sixth gear.
“Will to my dying day.”
“Let’s see if we can speed that up, then,” the bastard answered.
Bane blew through Piccadilly Circus like he was drag racing in a jacked-up ’71 Camaro.
We sped past red double-decker buses. Cruised by camera-toting tourists. We took the rounded three-lane juncture on skidding, probably balding tires.
Oh look! The famous neon billboards! 
Sirens sounded in our wake. Loud and unmistakable. Possibly unshakeable.
“Hey, guys?” Walker’s voice sounded quaky.
Bane glanced back, inadvertently misdirecting the Jag into two lanes of oncoming traffic.
“Remember what I told you about being air sick, Storm?”
“Yeah.” I prepared for a ditch and roll move before Bane crashed us in a head-on collision.
Bane swung us out of harm’s way, bumping into a narrow alley where tall stone buildings nearly kissed above us and blocked out the fall sunlight.
“Make that motion sick.” Walker was getting ready to upchuck.
Jerking the car left, Bane blasted onto a road, his hard face showing the joy of the hunt.
“Bullshit. You’ll be fine.” He laid on the horn, swearing out the window at too-slow pedestrians.
They hustled to the curb, and he gunned the engine, nearly stripping the crosswalk of its white paint.
“You ride a motorcycle.” I pointed out to Walker, trying to take his mind off his--uuuh—imminent demise. “And a horse.”
“And Jade!” Bane pounded the horn just to scare a few extra people while I chuckled.
Then I remembered I hated him.
Then Walker’s long arms reached out, and he punched us both on the back of the head with punishing blows.
“You fucking mention anything about Jade again, and I’ll pack so much C-4 up your asses you’ll shit from colostomy bags for the rest of your lives.”
The car lurched with Bane’s stuttered reaction to Walker’s threat, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it, my asshole puckered. So did my face.

That’s right. You read correctly. In His Sights–my Don’t Tell novella–is live and it’s super low-priced! Can you say happy
(and hot, sexy, delicious, dangerous, romantic…all the good things)?

Where? Where? ​

Here. Here.

Amazon
What early reviewers are saying:

Sexy Erotic Xciting–IN HIS SIGHTS
“In His Sights was a sexy read that kept this reader on the edge of her seat. Sci-fi thriller met romance as Hawke and Mayce found themselves on the opposite side of the law until one fateful day brought them together where what should have been hate, turned to lust then love.” –Definite S.E.X. A five handcuff review, by Evelise

Amazon–IN HIS SIGHTS
“It is touching to see the effect these two have on each other as their love 
grows. Even though in Mayce’s world their love is forbidden, and destined to be doomed, he is willing to forsake the only life he has known in the name of love. What I loved best about this book was the solid yet sassy style Warren seems to have patented.” 
-5 Stars, Romance Writer, Gemma Brocato

Goodreads–IN HIS SIGHTS
“As I sit here writing this, I’m a wasted puddle of goo.  I have tears streaming down my face and I am hot and bothered.

Mayce and Hawke are well developed – both their characters and their relationship.  And they are HOT!!! Right from the beginning the sex is smokin’ and it never loses that heat.  But what makes this story truly beautiful was the way their love for each other grew.” -5 Stars, Joelle Mendes

BLURB:
These sworn enemies have everything to lose and each other to live for. 

At the outset of the Revolution against the oppressive Company regime, Hawke is a freedom fighter on a mission.
Infiltrate Alpha Territory, kick some Corps ass, and stay alive.His plans unravel when he’s captured by the enemy on his first sortie. Waiting fordeath by the soldier sworn to kill him, all his training couldn’t have prepared him for what happens next.

A corporal in the Company’s military branch, Mayce is a hard-liner intent on ridding his city of the insurgent threat. Yet one look at the gorgeous Freelander named Hawke and years of yearning and unrealized desires change his course permanently.
If discovered, he’ll be branded a traitor and a homosexual—and sentenced to death.


Mayce and Hawke act on their intense and immediate attraction. But amid the escalating war their dangerous trysts come at the risk of their own lives.

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