Daily Archives: 11/03/2017

RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Mastering Her Heart by Dani Wyatt

 

 

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The night Willow Wilson walks through the doors of my private club, all my self-control vanishes. I am known as Lord Tower, master and owner of a discreet establishment where fantasies become a reality. Years ago when fate first brought Willow to me, she was my step-daughter. She called me Daddy, then. And she will again if I have my way.


In the time since we’ve been apart, she’s only grown more beautiful. Her lush curves have filled out. Her heart calls to me. And I will have her even if I have to kick down the very doors of hell to make her mine. Right or wrong.

But even Lords have weaknesses. And she is the one for which I will give everything, even if it means letting her go. Again.

Author Note: Never fear, this book is still as safe as can be. There is as much darkness in this hot little read as there is light. As much swoony sweetness and steamy sexiness as you expect. But be warned, this Daddy is done waiting and his princess is about to be claimed.

 


I stare across the small table at Willow.

Her beauty is unmatched.  She is perfection in my eyes. Her hair gathered in a loose ponytail that runs over her left shoulder.  I imagine it in my fist, pulling at it as I tell her all the beautiful, filthy things I intend to do to her.

I absently reach down under the table and give my cock a stroke, trying to calm the growing need inside me.

I shift my chair back and stand, taking the few steps over behind her chair, pulling it back.

“Stand up, Princess.”  

She does as I ask without a word of question or complaint.  Her compliance only serves to heighten the desire I feel for her.  For my sweet girl.

I reach down for her hand, guiding her as she stands in front of me as I step back, then stop to admire her for a long moment.

“What are you doing?”  She toys with the little infinity pendant around her neck, zipping it back and forth on the chain while her other arm belts at her waist.

“Deciding.”  I utter, my mind filling with all the filthy desires I’ve stored up just for her.

“Deciding?  What are you deciding?”  She lets out a giggle, then bites into her bottom lip.

“I’m deciding if I’m going to eat you before I fuck you, or fuck you and then eat you.  If I could fuck you and eat you at the same time, I’d do that.”

Her face turns to a deep shade of pink and she starts to shift her weight from one foot to the next.  In my own way, I love her like this.  A bit off.  Slightly uncomfortable.

 

Wondering what is coming next.

“Daddy needs you to take off all your clothes, my sweet girl.  Slowly, now.  Start with your shoes.  Then your shirt.  And last your skirt.  Do it now.”  My words harden at the end as my cock throbs and aches for her.

The thought of seeing her naked for me sends my teeth into my own lip. Biting down as she begins to disrobe. Doing exactly as I said, one piece of clothing at a time, until she stands before me, glorious and exposed.

“God, Princess.  You make Daddy so hard.  You know you’re going to take care of me tonight, don’t you?  Let my cock into that pussy.”

She nods and shifts, her hands unable to find where they should be.

“I’m nervous.”  She whispers.

“Are you also wet?”

Her apple cheeks ripen another shade.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t? Well then, find out.  Right hand.  Two fingers.  Now.  Put them inside you.”


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Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.
She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.
When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
 
 
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COVER REVEAL ~ Hot as Puck (A Bad Motherpuckers Novel) by Lili Valente

 

 
 
Title: Hot as Puck
A Bad Motherpuckers Novel
Author: Lili Valente

Genre: Steamy Romantic Comedy/Hockey Romance
Cover Design: Bootstrap Designs
Release Date: April 3, 2017
 
Blurb
The NHL’s biggest bad boy is about to fall for the virgin next door…I am the world’s biggest dating failure. We’re talking my last date went home with our waitress kind of failure.

But I have an ace in the back pocket of my mom jeans—my sexy-as-sin best friend, NHL superstar forward, Justin Cruise.

Justin owes me favors dating back to seventh grade, long before he became a hotshot with a world famous…stick. So in return for my undying platonic loyalty, all I want is an easy-peasy crash course on how to be a sex goddess.

How hard can it be?

***

I have never been so hard in my life.

The things I want to do to my sweet, kindergarten-teaching, mitten-crocheting best friend Libby Collins are ten different kinds of wrong. Maybe twenty.

But I’m a firm believer in teaching by example, and by the end of our first lesson, we’ve graduated to a hands on approach to her sexual education: my hands all over her, her hands all over me, and her hot mouth melting beneath mine as I prove to her there isn’t a damned thing wrong with the way she kisses.

Give me a month, and I’ll transform Libby from wall flower to wall banger, and ensure she’s confident enough to seduce any guy she wants.

Problem is… the only guy I want her seducing is me. 

Hot as Puck is a sexy, flirty, friends-to-lovers Standalone romantic comedy from USA Today Bestseller Lili Valente.

 


 
 


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$3.99 pre-order only price
 
 
Amazon links available on release day
 


 
Author Bio
U.S.A. Today Bestselling author Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.

 
 
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BLOG TOUR ~ Ignite by Drew Elyse

 


 

 


Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.


Ace has been keeping secrets, and not just from his club brothers.
Secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
All of his are about to be revealed,
whether he’s ready to face them or not.

A Disciple will fight like a savage—even against his past.

When Quinn waltzes into the Disciples’ clubhouse,
she’s only after one thing—and it isn’t Ace.
She wants closure, an end to what they started so long ago.
But with the heat exploding, Ace and Quinn are far from over.

When this biker is forced to confront his past, everything will ignite.


An hour or two after the library opened, I was going over an interlibrary loan order when I looked up to see a face less than two feet from mine.
“Jesus!” I cried on a whisper I only managed due to years of practice.
Max, my unrepentant best friend, just grinned at me, swirling a piece of her blonde hair around a finger.
“What’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on people is a good way to get yourself hurt,” I informed her.
She shrugged. “I ever see you holding a weapon, I might reconsider my tactics.”
“A heavy book can do some damage,” I pointed out. We were in the reference section, after all.
“And you’d sooner throw yourself at me than any of the books in this library,” she replied.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I changed subjects. Max was a barista at a local coffee shop. She joked about it being a good filler job until she married rich and never had to work again. At least I tried to chalk it up as a joke, but I wasn’t always so sure.
“I’m on lunch.”
“Your lunch is half an hour.”
“And you’re avoiding the subject,” she chastised.
“There’s a point to this sneak attack?”
“Um…meeting with the P.I. this morning? Info on He Who Shall Not Be Named? Ring a bell?”
“It’s He Who Must Not Be Named,” I corrected.
She rolled her eyes. “Jack tries to kill all the muggle-borns, he can get upgraded to ‘must’. Until then, we’ll stick with ‘shall’.”
That was a fair point.
I dropped my eyes to my computer and hit send on the order to the Portland Public Library.
“So, what? You’re just going to ignore me?” she demanded.
I sighed before meeting her blue eyes. “I’ve got an address.”
Her face showed her glee. Why she was enjoying this saga so much, I had no idea. “Where is he?”
“A town called Hoffman,” I explained. “It’s four hours northeast.”
Letting her stew on that for a second, I grabbed the return cart and wheeled it around the desk. A pretty frequent visitor when I was working, Max fell right into step with me as I went to re-shelve.
“Wait. He’s still in Oregon?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Four hours away? That’s it?”
“Four hours,” I repeated.
“What a smarmy motherfucker.”
There was a time when I would have disagreed with her. There was even a time I had disagreed with her, but I’d learned my lesson the hard way. Even now, I couldn’t bring myself to agree out loud.
“Are you going tomorrow?” Max asked after a minute of silence.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I couldn’t let myself hesitate—not out loud and not in my own head. If I did, I would chicken out. It was time. I needed this. I needed to finally confront him once and for all.
“Good for you,” Max said, her voice uncharacteristically serious—not that Max couldn’t have a serious conversation, just that her personality tended to bubble up through everything. She was loud, spirited, excitable. I rarely heard her speak in that low, almost grave tone.
I really, really hoped she was right.
“You’ll call me after you see him?” she inquired.
I sighed again, knowing I was bound to get a reaction from this. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to see him right away. It might take some time.”
“Why? You said you had his address.”
“Apparently he joined a motorcycle club,” I told her, watching her jaw unhinge. “The place he’s living belongs to them, so I’m not sure I’ll be let in if he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Holy shit,” she muttered, still gaping. “You’re serious?”
“Based on the way the investigator tried to warn me from going up there, I’m going with he was telling the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to do this alone? I can come with you,” she offered, an idea probably at least as much about not wanting to miss the adventure as it was about being a loving, supportive friend.
“Really? You and what time off?” I reminded her.
She scrunched her nose. “Admittedly, his highness told me if I bail on any more days this month, I shouldn’t bother coming back in.”
“His highness” was Max’s name for her manager. The owner of the coffee shop was never there or involved in anything employee-related. That was all Marcus. The way Max told it, Marcus was a terror with a dictator complex. I took this with a grain of salt seeing as just two weeks ago, Max told me she wasn’t going into work at all because saw a Kate Spade bag online she wanted. My suggestion that she just order it off the website or at least wait until after work to hit the mall had fallen on deaf ears.
“I’ll be fine, promise,” I assured her.
“Okay, but if I need to drive up to wherever the fuck and junk punch him, you just let me know.”
I laughed, and couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have her. Without Max, I never would have gotten the nerve to finally face him.
Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t lose my nerve before I made it to Hoffman.




 
Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

 

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CHAPTER REVEAL ~ Twice As Hard by Amber Bardan

 

 

Coming March 20th

 

 

 

 

They caught me. Naked, shivering and dripping after a spontaneous swim in the forest.
Two rugged men whose hard gazes captivated and scared me all at once.


They warned me. Told me I was on private property and I needed to obey the law…or I would be punished.

The idea of them both punishing me, pleasuring me, kept tormenting me. I couldn’t want them. I shouldn’t. But I did.

I didn’t mean to trespass again. I thought I could retreat without notice. But they’re coming for me.

To show me the pleasure in pain. To show me just how right forbidden can feel. And to love me twice as hard as I ever fantasized.

 


 

I run up the track. My thighs scream—but I can’t stop yet. Pain blazes from my blistered heels. The ground levels out. My sneakers slide on dirt.
Fuck.
The world disappears, dropping out only yards from where I’m stopped.
I go to my knees, gasping. The urge to vomit rises hard in my throat, yet the sight ahead pierces me almost as sharply as the burning in my lungs. The view from the peak of Hunter Mountain is everything I’ve been led to believe. I press my palms to the earth. Oh god, the air is good.
So damned good.
Fragrant and so clean I’ve only experienced its pale imitation from a bottle. Forest scent. Almost makes this worth it. Almost. I fill my lungs, and my racing heart slows a fraction. I drop onto my heels. Green rolling hills and the kind of quiet I’ve only imagined stretch out before me.
I shut my eyes. In my thirty-one years I’ve never experienced a moment of quiet like this. Where the loudest thing competing for my attention is the sound of me—my breath.
My galloping pulse.
There’s always been a background noise so ever present I never noticed it until this absence. Traffic. Street. People. The whine of electronics a constant hum.
Pity there’s not a moment of peace to be found.
Not now. Not like this. Not on my own.
Why’d he send me here?
Flapping jerks me out of my thoughts. I look up. Broad, dark wings beat overhead.
Holy crap. Is that an actual eagle? The huge bird soars over the ledge to hover above the ravine.
Hunting.
On Hunter Mountain. I drag my backpack off my shoulders, and open it up, fingers slipping into the inside pocket where the letter waits.
I roll onto my backside, and then peel back the seal from one side of the envelope to the other, glue stretching like cheese for a moment before snapping. My thumb pauses in the fold of the paper. I unfold the note a fraction at a time.

Congratulations, Baby, you made it.
Aren’t you glad you did?
Enjoy the view for half an hour. Set your timer, you impatient little thing. Then take the path to left, there’s something there I want you to see.

I scrunch the paper into a ball, and it’s only the abomination of littering in a place like this, that stops me from hurling it in the direction of the eagle.
That’s it?
I’ve come all this way, suffered through so much, for a hike?
Why’d he even bother? I’m not sure if this is him trying to hang on—or refusing to completely let go.
Neither answer is one I’m prepared to dwell on. So I gather together the remnants of my hopefulness and obey my husband, setting my timer exactly as he’s instructed. Then drink from my water bottle and eat an apple to pass time, because he’s right—I’m a very impatient thing.
The beep pings from my phone. With the nonexistent reception here, an alarm is about all the phone’s good for.
I tuck the phone away, slip the backpack on and stand. My legs give a jellied wobble, leaving me with a feeling of walking on bendy stilts. I circle the top of the mountain, then find a track on the left, the one he must’ve meant.
Do Not Enter, the sign reads.
Of course it does. I sigh and take the path, adjusting the straps of the bag and wondering what fresh torture he has in store for me.

One small mercy, walking down is a damn sight easier than running up.
I descend into the trees and the silence bleeds into a more organic quiet, where birds rustle, things move, and then…water rushes.
I pick up pace. Tired or not, I jog down the path toward the sound, then burst into a clearing.
The scent of water hits me.
I stare at the stream plunging over a hanging ledge. My eyes widen as if I could somehow take it in more. A real waterfall.
A heady mix of awe and joy floods me.
Bounced from one L.A. foster home to the next, vacations and sightseeing hadn’t been any part of my upbringing. I’d worked my ass off to get into college, then worked it even harder in my good, safe, secure bank job to pay off student loans—until him.
Until Dean came along and every plan I ever had went up in flames.
But this? Waterfall. Had I mentioned on one of our lazy Sunday mornings after he’d fucked me into exhaustion, how I’d always longed to see one?
My chest squeezes. Maybe this means he forgives me…
I take off the backpack and toss it onto the ground. Then tear off my top, kick off my shoes and peel off my socks. The late spring air has my nipples puckering, but I unhook my bra and let it fall where I stand.
He hasn’t instructed this part, but I can just see him imagining it when he wrote the note. He’d picture me unable to resist skinny dipping in the wilderness.
Had it made him hard when he’d told me to come this way?
I undo the button at my waist and peel off my jeans. My underwear goes next. Then I walk buck naked toward the water.
Of course he’d been hard.
He’d have known I’d do just this. My thighs squeeze. Heat moves through me. I’m naked out in the open without Dean and he can’t do a thing to stop me.
I climb onto a rock.
A laugh springs from my lips. The sound echoes back at me, clear and crisp and startling. It’s been too long since I’ve heard that sound.
I leap into the water.
Freezing cold slams into me. I resurface with a gasp. Oh, shit. The water’s not just cold it’s so icy it has teeth. Still, I do the thing I’ve always, always wanted to do, and swim to the waterfall. Foam and bubbles, and the current seem to force me back. A tremor of danger moves through me. It could be risky to try to swim through the waterfall.
I take a breath and dive underwater. Pressure pounds my back then dissipates. I emerge on the other side, and look up. The water curtains me from the outside world.
Sadly, no cave, but I climb onto the bit of rock ledge and watch for the brief moment before cold and self-preservation force me down.
That’s the thing about fantasy, you never dream these parts—the threat of hypothermia or how a slimy rock feels on your bare ass.
I dive back through the waterfall, and swim toward where I’ve left my things. My skin goes numb. A blanket of goose bumps coats my limbs. I collect my carelessly scattered clothes. Dirt and mossy chunks of forest floor cling to my feet and work up my ankles. My teeth chatter. I bend to retrieve my underwear and jeans.
Sound crunches behind me.
I spin, clothes clutched in my hands. A man stands in front of me, maybe six feet away. My heart seizes.
He stares, gaze raking over me as though he’s never seen a woman. From the looks of him maybe he never has. His beard is rough, dark and speckled with silver, but it’s the jaw underneath—clenched tight as he takes me in, that has my own teeth biting together. He’s built like someone who spends his days felling trees or wrestling grizzlies.
Or both.
My pulse mimics the sound of the waterfall, growing louder in my ears, until I don’t know which roar is which. That whole big body seems poised.
Set to pounce.
“I didn’t know anyone was here.” My voice emerges strangled and rusty.
He says nothing, but his gaze makes its way from where I clutch my things to my chest, then lands on mine.
His features set hungrily, tension thrumming tight through his expression in a way that makes me feel like a buffet that’s being presented at the very brink of starvation.
I can almost feel my heart beat against my forearms through the clothes I hold. Air moves in icy prickles over my naked thighs and between my legs. His attention moves there. To my uncovered cunt, which my bundle of clothes doesn’t hide.
His chest moves quickly, like he’s an animal under the heat of too much sun.
His fingers twitch at his sides. Big fingers. He has big fingers and big hands. Hands that would hold roughly. Fingers that would grab brutally.
And I can’t move. Can’t cover myself. Can’t conceal my most private area.
He takes a step—just one.
I jerk backward and stumble. My clothes tumble to the ground.
He looks at my chest. At my breasts, nipples puckered and strained. There’s a sensation rushing through me that reminds me of the brief period in my teens when I’d get high. A light-headedness that suspends me almost out of body.
He hisses, and comes for me.
A jolt of numbness plunges me back into frozen atrophy.
A blast rings out. Birds spring from trees.
A gunshot.


 After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fuelled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Claimed Princess (The Princess series) by Alexa Riley

 

 

Heavenly and Carlos have been best friends their whole lives. But it’s almost time for Heavenly’s birthday, which means she’ll be married off to a king.
Carlos has been King for a few years now and is being pressured to choose a bride. But he’s only ever had eyes for one princess, and he’s had to wait for her to turn twenty-one.
Heavenly doesn’t have any idea the plans Carlos has made for her, so when she offers to marry his brother, things don’t go so well. Girl, they don’t go well at all… Carlos isn’t having that. She gets a dose of alpha when Carlos lays down the law. But when she runs…how far will she actually get?

Warning: Do you really wonder if there’s a happily ever after? Because you know that’s kind of our thing, right?
Look, he chases her, but it all works out.

Also it’s really hot. Get it!

Each book in The Princess series is standalone & about a different couple.



*Heavenly*

I flip through a magazine while lying on the floor of Carlos’s office. I’m bored as I lie on my stomach, swaying my feet in the air. I roll over when I come to a picture of Princess Star. I’m not shocked to see her in the magazine. I’d be more shocked if she wasn’t. The paparazzi are always trying to find out what she’s wearing and what she’s doing. Or better yet, who she’s doing. What kind of name is that? It makes me want to roll my eyes as much as her face does.

“You sure you don’t want to pick Star?” I tease, rolling fully to my side to look at Carlos. His eyes are trained on me, his face set in a hard stare. I don’t know why he looks so angry. He’s been grumpy for the past few months, which isn’t normal for him.

Okay, that’s not true. He’s usually pretty abrupt and a little cool with people. Except with me. I’m always the one who can get away with anything. I can show up at his office, flop down, and do whatever I want. Like I am now. It’s been that way since I was a little girl. But then he wasn’t always king. He’s only held the title for the past few years. I thought things might change. That he wouldn’t have time for me anymore. Instead I’ve only been granted further access into his family’s castle.

His eyes move to my legs, and it’s then I see my dress has ridden up. I sit up quickly and pull it down, my face turning red knowing he saw my underwear. I want to die. Of course when the man I’ve been in love with since I was fifteen sees my underwear, I’m wearing plain white ones with little hearts on them. Kill me now.

“I suggest you get rid of that dress, Heavenly. I’m sure whoever your intended might be wouldn’t like hearing his wife wore dresses and flashed what was his to other men.”

My mouth falls open at his words, then I narrow my eyes at him. He’s never talked to me like that before. I take the magazine and throw it at him. My aim is terrible, and it ends up knocking a vase off the table next to his desk. It causes it to crash to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces.

I roll back over and grab another magazine, ignoring him. I’m not even sure what I’m mad about. Maybe it’s the casual talk about me being passed to whoever my husband might be. My coming of age is fast approaching, and I’ve been ignoring it, hoping that maybe no one will call on me. My heart already belongs to a man who’s been searching for his own wife since he became king. I’m not even a blip on his radar in that area. I’m like his cute little sister in his eyes, someone he has to protect and shelter.

He’s been my everything from the first moment we met. I came to stay with my grandma, whose home is right on the edge of Carlos’s land. I’d moved here after both my parents died and my brother had taken the crown. I love my brother, but he had no idea what to do with a grieving little sister. He had a country of his own to run.

I climbed the wall that surrounded the castle from the rest of the world, only to come up against two guards when I’d landed on the other side. Boredom and curiosity had gotten the best of me that day. They dragged me kicking and screaming back to the castle with the intent to have me arrested for trespassing. Which I was. But it was Carlos who’d saved me.

I’d broken away from the two guards and taken off, only to run right into Carlos. He was like a hard wall of muscle, and I would have fallen on my ass that day if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of me. He pulled me back to him and stopped me from falling.

I’d never seen someone go from angry to sweet in a flash. He ripped into the guards for having sent a girl running from them in fear. Since that day a guard has never touched me or stood in my way here. Most won’t even make eye contact with me. No place ever been off limits to me either. Something about that makes me feel special, but I have a feeling it’s something I’ll soon lose. I can’t imagine whoever Carlos chooses as a wife will allow me to still roam the castle and estate like I do now.

Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I sneak over from my grandmother’s and climb into his bed, where he’ll hold me close until I fall asleep. I don’t think that will be happening anymore once he takes a queen. Especially since he asked me to stop the last time I did it. It cut deep. Deeper than I thought it would. Yeah, things are going to change, but I don’t want them to. I want to stay here forever. This feels like my home now—the only home I’ve known since I lost both my parents.

The room remains quiet as both of us know I’m not going to clean up the mess. I glance over at him, and his eyes are still on me. We stare at each other for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, Heavenly. You know I’m very protective of you.” I nod, understanding. He has always been that way with me, even when it comes to men or boys poking around me. “I don’t like the idea of men being able to see up your dress.” He leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Things have to change,” he mumbles, and I feel my stomach turn.

“I’m not going to be allowed here after you choose your wife,” I say, and I hear the defeat and sadness in my own voice. This wife thing has been hanging over my head for two years now. It’s bittersweet. Part of me loves the fact that he hasn’t picked one yet, and another part wants him to do it so I have to face the music.

“Why would you say such a thing?” He sits back up in his chair.

“I mean, I know I can come over, just not like now. You already won’t let me in your room.” My gaze drops back down to the magazine.

Carlos gets up, coming around his desk and picking up the magazine I threw. He looks at the page that’s open to the picture of Star. He rolls his eyes and tosses it into the fire that’s cracking quietly in the fireplace.

“You’re days away from coming of age,” he reminds me.

I know. I turn twenty-one soon. I’ve been dreading it, wondering who might be calling for my hand in marriage. I secretly hoped that my brother had forgotten all about me and I wouldn’t have to worry about that day. But I think that chance is slim to none.

“I know,” I mumble. “Maybe you should worry about your own little problem. You know, picking a wife? How many women have showed up here and you still haven’t picked one.”

His jaw clenches at my words. He hates when they come. That makes two of us. I want to say it out loud, but I keep it to myself. I always try to keep the anger out of my voice. I can’t let my jealousy show. That wouldn’t be good. Then I really wouldn’t be allowed over anymore.

“Heavenly. You will never not be allowed here. You’re a part of this family, and you know it.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong. If he were mine I sure as heck wouldn’t let him hang out with some girl in his office all day.

Then it hits me. I jump up and rush over to him. “Maybe I could marry your brother!”

I almost run into him I’m so excited at the idea. But he catches me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I’d never have to leave! I could still see Carlos and his mom every day! Carlos’s brother Romy is nice, but if the rumors in the magazines are true, he’s a little bit of a player. But I wouldn’t care. I’m sure his mom will be pushing him to get married soon, too. Maybe we could just be married in name. He could still do whatever he wanted, and I could stay here. Romy and I get along well. We often team up and give Carlos a hard time when he gets into one of his grumpy moods.

Carlos tightens his grip on my shoulders.

“You want to be with my brother?”

The look on his face changes to anger. I’ve seen this face on him many times over the years, but never has it been aimed at me. I don’t understand why he’s so mad. I know he’s protective of me in a brotherly way, but this seems excessive.

“He wouldn’t treat you as you deserve to be treated,” he half-growls. He brings his hand to my cheek and strokes it softly. The touch doesn’t match the anger in his words.

“Romy is sweet to me,” I say, trying to make him understand.

“He wouldn’t be loyal,” he throws back.

Loyalty is everything to him. I know Carlos would be faithful to his wife. He’s a man of great honor. That’s probably why I’ve never seen any magazine pictures of him out on a date. It’s also why he’d never think of being with me. I’m too young. Not only that but although I’m a princess, I’m a little brash and blurt things out in moments I shouldn’t. My parents kept me away from the social scene, then after they died I was out here living with my grandmother. She barely leaves the house. My only social interactions occur with him, when I come over here and hang out. I even completed my schooling at the castle with private teachers. It was easier to do it here. I practically live here, for the most part. If I wasn’t with Carlos, I was with his mother, helping her plan some charity event or dinner, ones I never went to. Carlos always said I was too young. I often wondered if he brought dates to those events. But at night, when he’d get home, I’d sneak over, faking I had a bad dream. When I crawled into his bed there were never any other women. Nor did his bed smell like one had been with him.

The doors to Carlos’s office open, and his mom Nina walks in. Carlos drops his hand from my cheek, but the other on my shoulder only digs in a little tighter. I shake him off, turning to greet the woman who has become like a mom to me over the past five years.

“Nina, I have the best idea! I should marry your son.”




AP new -about the author.jpg
 Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.
They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

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