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EXCERPT REVEAL – The Rules of Dating a Younger Man (The Law of Opposites Attract) by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Title: The Rules of Dating a Younger Man

Series: The Law of Opposites Attract

Authors: Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance

Release Date: September 15, 2024

Excited about Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s upcoming release, 

The Rules of Dating a Younger Man?


READ CHAPTER ONE NOW!

Copyright © 2024 by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward 

I looked down at my cell and shook my head.

“Why the long face?” My buddy Colby walked back into the kitchen and tossed me the keys to his car. “I didn’t think single guys with no kids and fat bank accounts had anything to stress over.” 

I caught the keys. “Bite me.”

He chuckled. “No, really. Is everything alright? You were grumbling at your phone the other day when I walked into the elevator, too.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Except one of the volunteers on the renovations team for the new Ryan’s House project is driving me nuts. You know how we pick two team leaders to help coordinate things on each job?”

Colby nodded. “One for the mechanics—electrical, plumbing, heating, and stuff, and one for interior design—paint, flooring, fixtures, and appliances, right?”

“Exactly. This dude Alex is the design team leader. He’s driving me nuts with his suggestions. He questions every fixture, appliance, and molding I’ve picked out. Today he wants to change the living room paint color by a shade—a freaking shade. I couldn’t even see the difference between the two paint samples online. Now he just asked if we could meet for dinner tonight to go over a few last-minute changes he’d like to make.” I shook my head. “No way am I doing that. It’s a good thing you clowns are coming up this weekend to help out, because I have a feeling this guy’s going to test my limits.”

Colby made a pouty face. “Awww… Brayden has trouble working with others.”

I shook my head, but smiled. “I don’t know why I tell you shit.”

“Probably because no one else wants to listen to you.”

“Ouch.”

He laughed. “What time you getting on the road today?”

“Probably about two. I need to stop by the office and pick up a project I’ve been working on for a kid. He’s in the hospital upstate again, so I’m going to drop by to visit over the weekend and surprise him with it.”

“What did you make this time?”

I grinned. “You know I don’t give hints about my masterpieces before the unveiling. I told his family I’d come by Sunday. If you knuckleheads are still around, you should join me.”

“Sounds good.”

I held up Colby’s car keys. “Thanks again for the car swap. Mine is too small to fit baseboard heating covers.”

“Anytime you want to swap my ten-year-old, beat-up SUV for your hot little six-month-old Porsche, I’m in.” He grinned. “I’m going to have a good-ass time driving that thing upstate Saturday morning.”

I opened the door. “Don’t get arrested for going a hundred and twenty.”

***

Later that night, I checked into the hotel up in Seneca Falls and decided to go down to the lobby bar for a drink. It was empty, except for a woman sitting alone. She had a drink in front of her, and a full glass of wine sat at the empty stool beside her, so I assumed she must be here with someone. I took a seat along the short side of the bar to give them some privacy. 

But damn… Sitting here gave me an even better view of the woman, and she was a total knockout—sandy blond hair, big blue eyes, and high cheekbones that led down to a full set of lips. She might’ve been a few years older than me, but that didn’t stop a rush of adrenaline from giving my body a good jolt. 

The bartender walked over and dropped a napkin in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a whiskey sour. Any chance you have Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year bourbon to make it with?”

The bartender’s brows pulled together, and he thumbed to the woman sitting alone. “You with her?”

“No, why?”

He shrugged. “She just ordered the same drink. That brand of bourbon and all.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

I glanced over again and lowered my voice. “She alone?”

“Is now. Some guy sidled up to her when she came in a few minutes ago, but he left pretty quickly with his tail between his legs.”

Alrighty then. “Any chance you guys serve food here?”

“Sure do. I’ll grab you a menu.”

Even though I now knew she was alone, I wasn’t too enthused about striking up a conversation with the pretty blonde. Not after she’d just chased another guy away. But when the bartender brought my drink and she looked over, I raised my glass.

“Apparently we ordered the same drink.”

“Whiskey sour?” she asked.

“With Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year.”

She smiled and held up her glass. “To good taste.”

I tipped my glass to her. A minute later, my phone buzzed with a call from Colby. I swiped to answer. “I hope you’re not calling to tell me you dented my car already.”

“No, but how the hell do you put the top back up?”

“You know the button you pushed to drop it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same button to put it back up. You just need to hold it for ten seconds.”

“Crap. Okay, thanks.”

“Where the hell are you that you have the top down?”

“I got a sitter and took my wife for a drive. The wind in our hair is making us feel young and free, instead of like the parents of two little kids we are, usually in bed by eight.”

I chuckled. “Well, enjoy it.”

“I plan to. Why do you think I need the top up? I just pulled into a quiet rest stop, and I need a little privacy, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me that, dude. I don’t want your bare ass all over my seat.”

“No promises, my friend.”

I shook my head. “God, I hate you. Goodbye.”

After I hung up, the knockout looked over. “I’m not usually rude, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” she began. “I once bought a new car. When I picked it up, I found an empty condom wrapper on the floor of the front seat. I made them give me another car.”

I smiled. “My buddy and I swapped vehicles for the weekend. I’m considering keeping his crappy ten-year-old hunk of junk and letting him keep my nice, new one after his ass cheeks have rubbed all over the leather.”

“I think that’s a good idea. Unless…”

“What?”

“What if your friend has a penchant for car sex? I’m afraid that would mean he’s already done it in the one you’re driving.”

I pointed. “Good observation. I’ll just get mine detailed.”

The beautiful woman smiled again, and I found myself wondering if she had lipstick on or if her lips were naturally that color. They were just a little more pink than the fleshy red I’d expect for someone with her skin tone. Or maybe she wore some sort of gloss, because they were also perfectly shiny. 

After a much-too-long analysis, I realized I probably looked like a creeper staring at her mouth and diverted my eyes to the menu the bartender had dropped off. Though I still couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances in between reading about the appetizers. There was something compelling about her. It might’ve been that her face wasn’t painted to fake-perfection like most women these days. 

A few minutes later, I looked over and noticed her glass was empty. So I took a chance. “Can I buy us another round?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Ummm…”

I held my hands up. “It’s just a drink. I won’t invite myself over to the empty seat next to you.”

She smiled. “Sure. Why not? Thank you.”

I held two fingers up to the bartender. “Another round for both of us. On me, please. And when you get a chance, I’ll take an order of the Mexican street corn chicken tacos.”

“Oh, gosh,” the woman said. “I love Mexican street corn. That sounds delicious.”

“Oh, so now you want me to buy you drinks and dinner?”

She waved her hands. “Oh, no, I wasn’t suggesting—”

I smiled. “I’m teasing.” I looked back at the bartender. “Make that two orders of the tacos, please.”

“You got it.”

“Well, now that you’re buying me food and a drink, I feel obligated to offer you the vacant seat next to me.”

“Oh, no. There’s no obligation, really.”

She grinned. “I’m teasing, too.”

I laughed, but I also got up and walked over to her. “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s not. But I can’t promise no bare butts have been on it.”

“I’ll risk it.” I sat and held out my hand. “Brayden.”

“Alexandria. Nice to meet you, Brayden.”

“You, too. Are you a guest at this hotel, or just came in to flirt with a guy and get him to buy you dinner and drinks?”

She smiled. I liked that she could take a joke. “I’m staying here. You?”

“Same. What are you in town for?”

“I’m volunteering for a charity that renovates houses near hospitals for patients who can’t afford a hotel while they’re getting cancer treatment.”

My jaw fell open. “Are you serious? You’re volunteering for Ryan’s House?”

“You know it?”

“I’m the founder. But once a year, I also volunteer to swing a hammer. This is my once.”

“Really?”

“Let me get this straight. We drink the same drink, both love street-corn tacos, both dislike ass imprints on our car seats, and we’re volunteering for the same project? Do I just propose now? Or should I wait and see if you love candy corn as much as I do?”

Her eyes sparkled. “I love candy corn.”

I covered my heart with my hand. “Alexandria Foster. It even has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

The bartender interrupted our love fest to deliver our drinks. When he walked away, we were both still smiling. 

“So you really founded Ryan’s House?” Alexandria asked. “How did that come about?”

“Almost a decade ago, I lost one of my best friends to leukemia. Ryan and I were both engineering students in college when he started treatments. He spent a lot of time in the hospital and became interested in designing prosthetics with more flexibility. We started working on ideas together to pass the time during my visits. After he passed away, I continued with some of the concepts we’d come up with. Long story short, a couple of years later, I got a patent on a new type of prosthetic joint simulator. It’s licensed to most major artificial-limb manufacturers now. I tried to split the profit with Ryan’s parents, but they wouldn’t take anything. So his half goes toward buying the houses we renovate each year for Ryan’s House.”

“That’s incredible.”

I sipped my drink. “How about you? Are you just volunteering, or is there a story behind why you picked Ryan’s House to donate your time?”

Alexandria smiled sadly. “I lost my husband a few years ago to leukemia.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. He was older than me, but still way too young.”

“Is this your first time volunteering, or did you work on another of the houses?”

“It’s my first time. To be honest, I’m kind of nervous about it.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” I asked. 

“I don’t have too much construction experience.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure you’re on the good team then.”

“I didn’t realize there was a good team and a bad team.”

“Usually there isn’t. But we split the volunteers into two crews, each with a team leader who coordinates who does what and makes sure we have the supplies and stuff. One of the team leaders is a real pain in the ass, a know it all. He wants to change everything that’s been planned before we even start. He’s definitely going to micromanage his crew.”

“Oh, wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“We usually just count off the volunteers who show up to give each team an equal number. But I’ll make sure you’re in Jason’s group and not Alex’s.”

“Oh. So Alex is the pain in the ass?”

“Giant pain in the ass.”

The bartender walked over with our food. It looked as delicious as it had sounded on the menu. Conversation slowed as we dug in, but I enjoyed the quiet with the company sitting next to me. After we finished eating, I turned to ask Alexandria something, but I lost track of what I was saying three words in. Her eyes were that mesmerizing. 

“What?” She wiped at her cheek. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, no. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you are absolutely beautiful. I’m relieved I got to sit next to you because I couldn’t stop myself from staring when I was sitting over there.”

Her cheeks pinked. “Thank you.”

Both our drinks were almost empty again, so I motioned to the glasses. “You want another one?”

“I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Disappointment flooded through me. I hoped I hadn’t upset her with my compliment. 

Alexandria motioned to the bartender. “Could I close out my tab, please?”

“Sure thing.”

He walked away and came back a minute later. I was still trying to decide if I should apologize. Maybe I’d been too forward?

She signed the check and hopped down from the stool. 

“Listen, Alexandria. I didn’t mean to upset you by saying how beautiful I think you are. I apologize if that came off creepy.”

“No, that wasn’t what insulted me.”

“That wasn’t? So something else I said insulted you?”

She looked at me a moment. “Such a shame. Because I find you attractive, too.”

“I’m confused. Why is that a shame?”

She shook her head. “Goodnight, Brayden. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and you don’t have to worry about which team I’m on. I’m happy on Alexandria’s team.”

“Alexandria’s team?”

“Oh. Did I say Alexandria’s team? I meant Alex’s team. I go by both names. Alexandria is my given name, after my grandmother. Alex for short.”

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BLURB

I was the last of my group of friends to find “the one.” 

The guys would always tease me that I needed to hurry up and settle down.  

But I was in no rush.  

Until I met someone worth rushing for. 

Alex was one of the weekend volunteers at Ryan’s House—a charity I founded to build housing near hospitals. 

Little did I know she was the same person I’d been arguing with over email before the project started. At the time, I’d thought Alex was a dude.  

In reality? She was a smoking hot blonde who captivated me from the moment we met in person. 

Our chemistry was off the charts, and I fell hard pretty fast. 

Unfortunately, Alex insisted I was too young for her. I hated that she felt that way. Because age was just a number. 

Not only that, her words didn’t match the way she looked at me—like she was very interested. 

I lived for the weekends we’d spend out of town volunteering.  Alex and I side-by-side hammering during the day, while sharing intimate dinners together at the hotel at night.  

Eventually, the walls she’d put up to protect her heart began to crumble.  

Until fate threw us a doozy that I wasn’t sure we could come back from.  

If I’d thought our age gap was the biggest hurdle, I didn’t know anything yet.  

Rule number one for dating an older woman who insists you could never be together?  

Don’t fall in love. 

VI KEELAND

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-seven languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/vi.keeland 

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TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@vikeeland 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ViKeeland 

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6887119.Vi_Keeland 

PENELOPE WARD

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism. 

With millions of books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/penelopewardauthor 

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7105545.Penelope_Ward 

OTHER BOOKS BY VI & PENELOPE

The Rules of Dating My One-Night Stand 

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The Rules of Dating My Best Friend’s Sister

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The Rules of Dating

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RELEASE BLITZ – Reluctantly Royal (Royals Gone Rogue #1) by Erin Nicholas writing as Erin Nicolle

Reluctantly Royal

Royals Gone Rogue #1

Erin Nicholas writing as Erin Nicolle

A marriage proposal from a deliciously handsome and wickedly charming prince sounds like a fairytale.

But for a nerdy scientist with severe social anxiety, it’s a horror story.

Prince Torin O’Grady, with his mischievous blue eyes and cocky grin, is always in the spotlight. And he needs to marry me to inherit the crown. 

But we have nothing in common. He’s a future king. And I’m perfectly happy slogging through mud in my work boots.

So why can’t I stop thinking about him? 

Maybe because he won’t stop texting me. And sending me gifts. And making me feel like everything I find awkward and weird about myself is special and amazing.

And there’s also that little detail of him offering me my dream job and telling me that together we can change the world.

Well, I could probably 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 for him.

And if I have to marry him 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 to get what we both want, then fine. It’s for the greater good.

It has nothing to do with the way he kisses me. Or that dirty mouth. Or the 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵  he gives me in the bedroom.

Fine. Maybe it does. Still, it’s only a year. Then I can turn in my tiara and come back to my normal, boring, behind-the-scenes life.

But Torin is determined to turn me from reluctantly royal to royally 𝘩𝘪𝘴. 

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐊𝐔!!

Get it from Amazon (and in KU)! geni.us/Reluctantly-Royal

Read chapter onebit.ly/Reluctantly-Royal-ch1-peek

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Excerpt

Erin Nicholas writing as Erin Nicolle

“I want more than dances, Abigail.”

She presses her lips together, takes a breath, then asks, “What else do you want?”

I decide to be honest. “I want to whisk you away on my private plane to an actual palace and give you everything and anything you could ever want or need.”

Her eyes widen. “You don’t even know me.”

I tuck my hands into my back pockets. To try to look casual. But also to keep from reaching for her. 

“I’ve read all about your work,” I tell her. “I started by just wanting to know about that job you said you hated so much. But then I kept reading. I know all about you.”

She’s staring at me. She’s sitting up straighter now and even in the pale light, I can see her shock. 

“You…read about me?”

“Not just about you. I read all of your papers. Your work in college. Your dissertation. The articles you’ve published. I even stumbled upon some social media posts.”

“I…Oh…” She shakes her head. “I thought you wanted to sleep with me.”

I chuckle softly. “Oh, Abigail, I most definitely want to sleep with you.”

She swallows hard.

“I wanted that before I knew you are a damned genius who could come to my country and revolutionize agriculture and completely overhaul our economy.”

I can see that she’s breathing faster now. 

“So you want to hire me?” she asks. “Which means we can’t sleep together because you’ll be my boss.”

I step up on the first step.

“I don’t want to hire you. But I do want to bring you to Cara to do your work.”

“I don’t understand.”

I step up onto the next step, but she doesn’t back up. There’s only a step between us now. “I want you to marry me.”

Her eyes widen. But she says nothing. 

“Be my princess,” I go on. “You’ll have influence and resources. You can do anything and everything you’ve ever wanted to do.”

She’s staring at me. Then when she realizes I’m done talking, she laughs. 

“Marry you? Is that how things work for you? You just smile that smile, waltz a couple of waltzes, and women just say yes to anything? Even marriage?”

Well…

“I’ve never asked anyone to marry me before, so I don’t really know,” I answer.

She’s still smiling. “Thank you for the offer. But I’m not going to marry you.”

“As princess of Cara you can see your plans in action. Right now, they’re all just on paper. You’re not actually doing any of it. Don’t you want to see it come to life?”

Now she’s not smiling. She’s just watching me. She takes a deep breath. “Of course I do.”

“This is the perfect way. There’s no red tape. Nothing between your amazing brain and making it all happen for real.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. My country needs a prince and princess in place before my grandfather steps aside. The country deserves to know who will be there to step up and take care of them. My grandfather needs a successor in place before his heart gives out.”

“He has a bad heart?” she asks. 

“He’s already had three heart attacks. I really need to get married to give him and the country peace of mind.”

“So you’re serious about finding a wife?”

“I am.” 

She steps down a step. 

“Abigail.”

“Yes?”

“If you step down one more step, I’m going to kiss you.”

She wets her lips. 

“So if you want to just keep talking, you need to keep your sweet ass right there on that step.”

She looks down at the step that would start the kissing.

“And if you don’t want to keep talking…or anything else… you need to go back inside.”

She’s staring at me. But she seems more fascinated than anything. “Okay. I understand.”

“Good.”

Two heartbeats pass. 

Then she steps down onto the step right above mine.

I groan and cup her face, bringing her mouth in against mine. 

BLP REVIEW – Tracy

While Erin Nicholas is better known for The Landry Family and the small town of Autre – some of my favourite books and series – I’m so looking forward to what’s to come from her alter-ego, Erin Nicolle.

I adored Torin & Abigail. We’d met Torin previously on his trips to visit Fiona and Saoirse in Autre, while Ani had been introduced via her sisters’ stories.

We knew a bit about Cara. That they needed a new king ti take over from Torin’s grandfather as he’s getting older and his health hasn’t been good but the level of expectation on Torin from the old boy was a little more than anyone expected I think!!

I liked how Torin knew Abi was the one for him and even though she seemed set on the end date of their he never listened to sight of the future he wanted with her.
Torin grew up quite a bit throughout the read and for me, he was gonna be a really great leader…. if he has the right partner (hint, hint… Abi) by his side.

Then there’s Abi. For someone with social anxiety she definitely bloomed in this book….. her confidence, self belief and understanding of what she could do if she set her mind to it all developed during her first few months with Torin as he was so supportive and proud of her, which he never failed to convey.

This pair were made for each other. They were sweet, funny, engaging and smoking hot in equal measures and I’m hoping we see more of them in future ‘Royals Gone Rogue’ books.

A really fab start to a new series and I can’t wait to see what Erin has in store for Torin’s brothers (and hopefully their best friends/bodyguards!!! 😉)

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** My thanks to Erin for an advance ecopy of Reluctantly Royal. All thoughts and opinions are my own. I’ve also got my kindle copy on pre-order. **

Coming Soon in the series

Reluctantly Rogue – book #2releasing 30 May 3

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About the Author

Erin Nicholas is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over sixty sexy contemporary romances and rom coms. Her stories have been described as toe-curling, enchanting, steamy, and fun. She loves to write about reluctant heroes, imperfect heroines and happily ever afters. She lives in the Midwest with her husband who only wants to read the sex scenes in her books, her kids who will never read the sex scenes in her books, and family and friends who say they’re shocked by the sex scenes in her books (yeah, right!).

While Erin Nicholas is known for her blue-collar book boyfriends and big, boisterous found families in small towns, her alternate pen name, Erin Nicolle writes rich and royal rogues. But they both love a dirty talking cinnamon roll, a damn grump who is reluctantly wrapped around a feisty little finger, and a gruff, protective guy who falls first and hard.

And Erin also writes spicy, why choose rom coms as Emma Foxx  with her author bestie, Erin McCarthy (yes, another Erin)!

You can find all three pen names on Amazon, Goodreads, Instagram and Tik Tok!

Author Links

Websitehttps://erinnicholas.com

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CHAPTER REVEAL – The Deal with the Playboy (A New York Night #3) by J.M. Stoneback


Title: The Deal with the Playboy
Series: A New York Night #3
Author: J.M. Stoneback


Genre: Contemporary Romance
Tropes: Marriage of Convenience/Billionaire
Release Date: November 20, 2023

BLURB

Guess who gets cut off from her family’s inheritance because she decided to dump her cheating ex?
Me.
Which led me to be on the lookout for a fake fiancé who is filthy rich so he can impress my mother.

Luckily for me, I attended an exclusive masquerade ball hosted by the infamous American Billionaire Club and landed hot-as-sin billionaire mogul Jasper Barrett.

He buys me as his date for the night and offers me a deal I can’t refuse.

Be his wife in order for him to inherit his uncle’s business.

But he has two rules for our marriage of convenience to work:
Look pretty on his arm.
Play the happy wife in public.

We both get to use each other—sounds easy, right?

But every kiss sends a shiver down my spine, and every touch ignites passion inside of me.

We should stop this before I fall in love.

The only problem is… I can’t stop, no matter how hard I try.

My heart is on the line, and I’m afraid he’ll smash it into pieces.

This book is a complete STANDALONE and part of The New York Night Series. Every book in the series will be different characters in the same world.


GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/167772312-the-deal-with-the-playboy


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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Poppy

Two weeks have passed since I decided to keep my distance from Jasper. I ignore him at work, at home too. Jasper hasn’t said much to me since the night at the club. He proposed to me on Wednesday on a fancy yacht with rose petals on the floor, surrounded by flowers, taken by professional photographers, and uploaded on every social media. Bloggers ate those photos up like a kid in the candy shop. I received offers on free food and beauty products, and doors were open for me for interviews about my life. A few top-name modeling companies even reached out to me to be on the front of their magazines.

We have a photo shoot at one of Jasper’s mansions, in the gigantic master bedroom. I’m not feeling this shit, not one bit. My makeup is caked on my face and it feels heavy. Jasper’s hands are around my waist, and he’s leaning into my neck, breathing me in. I want him to touch my body, but then again, I don’t. My hormones go haywire around him.


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AUTHOR BIO


J.M. writes contemporary and dark mafia romance. She lives in Georgia, with her three boys and her husband. Her hobbies consist of reading, playing video games, and spending time with her family.


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CHAPTER REVEAL – High Impact (High Mountain Trackers #4) by Freya Barker

Title: High Impact

Series: High Mountain Trackers, #4

Author: Freya Barker

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: December 6, 2022

Buy Links:

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Manager for Hart’s Horse Rescue, Lucy Lenoir, finally feels she has a handle on life after having worked hard to leave her old one behind. So hard, there are times she almost forgets what she escaped. Memories which suddenly come flooding back when she catches a glimpse of a familiar horseman in town.

What’s worse, he’s in the company of the unlikely cowboy she’s only just beginning to trust.

High Mountain Tracker, Bo Rivera, tries hard never to repeat his mistakes. A huge one changed the course of his life and made him particularly cautious, especially around women. So much so, he almost passed up on the best thing to ever walk into his life; the compact, blonde ballbuster in need of a gentle hand.

However, the more he learns about her, the more he realizes a soft touch alone won’t keep her demons at bay. Those will need a firmer hand…to keep the gun steady.

Read Chapter 1:

Lucy

Look at those poor babies.

They can’t be more than a week old but won’t last much longer if I don’t intervene. Their mother isn’t looking any better.

I got the call earlier this afternoon and wish I’d been able to wait for a deputy to follow me, but potential cases of animal abuse aren’t very high on their list of priorities. The woman who called insisted the situation was dire, and she’s right.

“Hey! You!”

Oh shit.

A rough-looking, burly guy is coming around the corner of the dilapidated farmhouse, about fifty yards from where I’m crouched next to the pen. He has a shotgun in his hands and it’s aimed at me.

“You’ve got two seconds to get off my property,” he yells, looking pissed.

This kind of rescue work isn’t without its occasional challenges and dangers. It isn’t the first time I’ve looked down the barrel of a gun held by some disgruntled farmer or rancher when they didn’t appreciate my rescue of their abused animal. Still, it never fails to scare the crap out of me.

I don’t like guns. I’ve never been comfortable around them, although I will say I won’t hesitate to grab the shotgun we have by the front door at the rescue when facing anyone who threatens our safety or the safety of the animals. Too much has happened here over the past two years since we moved from Billings.

We, being Alexandra Hart and myself. I’ve worked for Alex for over eight years now. I joined her when Hart’s Horse Rescue was on a much, much smaller property, just outside Billings, Montana. Then, two years ago, she purchased the property near Libby and I happily followed her here. Of course, since then, she’s met and moved in with Jonas Harvey at the High Meadow Ranch, just down the road.

At the rescue we don’t only provide a safe haven for the animals, but also rehabilitate injured and traumatized animals. Alex is something of a horse whisperer and has a special affinity with the animals I lack. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good with the horses—all the animals—but they certainly don’t respond to me the way they do to Alex.

Anyway, these days it’s just me and the animals at the rescue, where I look after the day-to-day operations. Not a bad gig, not at all. I have a job I love; I have a roof over my head, and I live in what has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Not that I’ve traveled much. I’m about the farthest away from where I grew up right now, although staring down a barrel is familiar.

According to Lester Franklin’s neighbor, he leaves for work every day at the same time and doesn’t return home until late afternoon. I’d parked on the neighbor’s property and was supposed to wait for a sheriff’s deputy to show, when I saw him drive off and came to investigate. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity, so I went in without backup. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, that had not been my smartest move.

Today being the exception to the rule, he obviously returned early and isn’t happy finding me here.

I lift my hands up to show him I’m not armed.

“Your kid goats need to be supplement-fed or they’re gonna die,” I yell back.

“None ‘a your goddamn business what I do with my goats. Yer trespassing!”

He racks his shotgun and repositions it against his shoulder, lining me up in his sights. The sound of it is a bit unnerving, but I know that’s what he intends; to scare me off.

“Look, if you’re happy to let them die, why not just give them to me to look after?”

The shotgun blast is loud as the dirt in front of me sprays up. I’m down on my face the next second. Guess he wasn’t just trying to scare me. I vaguely notice a stinging burn on my shin but my eyes are locked on Lester Franklin, who appears to be cocking his gun, readying it for another shot.

“Hey! Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department. Put that damn shotgun down!”

I turn my head slightly to where a fresh-faced sheriff’s deputy is standing, legs spread wide and her hand on the butt of her service weapon. Sloane Eckhart. She’s the niece of my friend Pippa’s husband, Sully, and brand-new to the department. So new, I can still see the creases on her uniform shirt.

“I have every right to defend my property! She’s an intruder.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Franklin,” Sloane fires back right away. “She’s at worst a trespasser and if you shoot at her you’re the one who’s gonna be going to jail! Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time; put the shotgun down!”

Despite my rather precarious position, I grin at the girl’s attitude. Hell, she’s probably early twenties, looks more like a child playing dress-up than an actual sheriff’s deputy, but she’s sure not easily intimidated.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Franklin challenges her.

Slow and easy, she slips her weapon in her hand, widens her stance, and aims straight at him.

“I outshot the entire department in an accuracy test two weeks ago,” she says calmly. “Want to test me?”

For a few seconds, it looks like we might have a shootout when the guy pans his aim toward Sloane, but at the last moment lowers the barrel.

I get to my feet and notice my lower leg still burning. The front of my jeans on the left side is wet and stained dark. Wonderful.

“Were you hit?”

Sloane walks over, her eyes zoomed in on my leg.

“Just some rock spray hitting me, I think. Just a scratch.”

I don’t want her distracted, I want her to control Lester while I collect these poor goats.

“Right,” she says, giving me a hard look before she walks to her cruiser, the driver’s side door still open. “Gonna call some backup. Looks like we need Animal Control out here too.”

While Sloane puts in her calls, I pull up the leg of my jeans as I try to keep an eye on Franklin, who continues to hover in front of his house. My leg is a mess. It’s difficult to see anything, but I look to be bleeding from more than one source.

“Yikes,” Sloane comments, walking up. “Maybe I should’ve called the EMTs as well. That doesn’t look good.”

Bo

“Can you hand me the wrench?”

I dig through the toolbox and give James the requested tool.

We’re out behind the ranch house, in the shed where the pump running the automated watering system is housed. The system provides water to the horses out in the fields closest to the house. There are only a few of the back meadows left to cart water to, but if we can’t get this damn pump to work, we’re gonna be back to hauling it everywhere.

It’s a time suck and a general pain-in-the-ass job no one wants to do, which is why we’re back here trying to fix it, even though neither James nor I are particularly talented in mechanics.

“Why don’t I go ask Pippa to come have a look?” I suggest when James releases a few juicy curse words.

Pippa is married to Sully, another member of our team, and she’s a mechanic. They live in one of the cabins on the other side of the ranch house and just welcomed a new baby two weeks ago, so she’s home.

“I’m sure she’s got other things going on,” James mutters.

“Are you kidding? If it was up to her, she would’ve strapped that baby to her body and already be back at the garage working.”

It’s true, I walked in on an argument about exactly that topic between her and Sully just yesterday. Pippa is itching to do something with her hands, while her husband feels she needs more time to recover.

He’s just worried about her, being protective, and she’s afraid to lose autonomy over her life with the new baby and relatively new husband. The fear-driven dynamics are clear to see from an observer’s point of view, but I guess even a couple of weeks of sleepless nights, constant feedings, and endless diapers can make you lose perspective. 

Pippa is a rock and I have no doubt she’ll jump at the opportunity to get out of the house for a bit. Sully’s back to work and manning the breeding barn with Fletch today, but there are many at the ranch who’d drop anything to keep an eye on that baby girl for a few minutes.

Poor kid was born into one of the strangest families I’ve ever known, with a whole bunch of uncles, aunts, an honorary grandfather, and a handful of cousins, of which only one aunt and one cousin are actually blood related. The ranch, High Meadow, is at the center of this haphazard family. Its owner, Jonas Harvey, was my commander in the armed forces. Jonas, Sully, Fletch, James, and I were part of a special ops tracking unit. Like me, Jonas came from a ranching background. When he aged out of the unit, he bought this place, pulling us in one by one as we each aged out.

High Meadow is a stud farm, but in recent years we’ve been developing our own breeding program as well. In addition to that, the ranch is also the base for High Mountain Trackers. We may all have been too old for Uncle Sam, but we’re still able to put our skills to good use with HMT, which is a search and rescue—or recovery—unit on horseback. We get a variety of calls, anywhere from missing children to hunting down criminals, and often work together with local and state law enforcement.

The ranch is our home, even though I’ve never lived here like most of my brothers. I have my reasons for choosing an old apartment in town over one of the staff cabins on the ranch, although there’ve been many times I wished things were different. That’s life though, you’ve just got to roll with it. I’m sure there’ll come a day I can wake up to beautiful views and sweet mountain air instead of the parking lot at the rear of the restaurant next door, but that day isn’t here yet.

There’s no one at the cabin, but I find Pippa and the baby in the kitchen at the main house. Carmi is being burped by Alex, Jonas’s woman, with his old man, Thomas, looking on. I bend down and give that little downy blond head a kiss.

“How’s my little girl?”

“She sure don’t look like yours,” Thomas pipes up, unable to resist a tease.

There were too many years I would’ve taken that the wrong way, especially coming from an old, white, Southern boy, but I know he would’ve said the same thing to Fletch, who is white but dark-haired. This isn’t about the color of my skin but the blond hair the baby inherited from her father. 

“Hush, after her daddy, Bo gets dibs. He delivered her,” Pippa reminds the old man with a grin.

I did. Two weeks ago, at the horse rescue.

It wasn’t my first baby—before I joined the military I worked as a nurse in different departments—but it had been a few years, maybe even decades, since the last one. Luckily, the basic mechanics of childbirth stay the same and, other than the baby was coming fast, there were no complications.

“Hey, you got a minute?” I ask Pippa. “We can’t get the motor on the water pump to—”

I don’t even get a chance to finish my sentence before she jumps in.

“Yes. You don’t mind, do you, Alex?”

Alex makes a face as she snuggles the baby closer. “Like you need to ask.”

Pippa follows me outside where we almost bump into Sloane, Sully’s niece, who moved here over the summer. She’s a sheriff’s deputy.

“I was looking for you” she addresses Pippa. “Where’s the baby?”

“Kitchen.” Pippa cocks her thumb over her shoulder. “I swear,” she continues when Sloane rushes up the porch steps. “I’ve ceased to exist since she was born. Don’t get me wrong, I love my baby beyond measure, but it’s a little unsettling when I’m being treated like an extension of that little human instead of my own person.”

I hear her. Fuck, I’m guilty of it too, heading straight for Carmi without even a hello for her mother.

Throwing my arm around her shoulder, I give her a little squeeze.

“Good thing we have a busted water pump to remind us you’re not just good at making babies,” I tease.

“Haha,” she grumbles, elbowing me in the gut.

“Oh, Bo?” I hear Sloane call.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, turning around.

She’s hanging over the porch railing.

“You may wanna swing by Lucy’s, when you have a minute.”

As always when I hear her name, my attention is piqued.

“Why?”

“She had a run-in with a rancher north of town. She didn’t want me calling EMTs, but I think she got hit with some buckshot.”

I don’t realize I’m already moving until I hear Pippa yell out behind me.

“Go!”

More in the Series

http://www.freyabarker.com/books/high-mountain-trackers/

Author bio:

USA Today bestselling author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.

With forty-plus books already published, she continues to create characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy. 

Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We’ve Read All Year Award for “Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, and Finalist for the 2020 Kindle Book Award with “When Hope Ends”, Freya spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!

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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY – Craved by a Wolf (Fated Mates #20) by Felicity Heaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new paranormal romance release, Craved by a Wolf, the latest release in her popular Eternal Mates world.

There are now twenty books in this series, but don’t worry, you can dive right on in with Craved by a Wolf, or start at the very beginning with Kissed by a Dark Prince, which is 99c at all retailers right now. Binge-read to your heart’s content!

If you love big worlds packed with detail and every paranormal species imaginable, together with hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees, then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliff-hangers, because there’s nothing worse than a cliff-hanger!

About the Book

Craved by a Wolf (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 20)
Felicity Heaton

Hella is one witch who is done with relationships. Having rid herself of a clingy nymph, she’s determined to stay single and savour everything her fae town in Geneva has to offer – with no strings attached. The trouble is, it turns out breaking up with a king isn’t as easy as she’d thought. Her ex just sent a legion to kidnap her and take her to the faerie realm of Lucia.

And he wants to make her his queen.

Grant MacKinnon is one wolf shifter who prefers a quiet life. His home in a glen in Scotland, his small wolf pack, and fine whisky is all he needs. The trouble is, a witch in the fae town in Fort William just cursed him to die if he doesn’t find his fated mate and bring her to her. Now he craves a female he’s never met, one he was convinced didn’t exist, and he refuses to believe she’s really his one true mate… until he sets eyes on the beautiful blue-haired lass.

And his wolf instincts howl that she was made for him.

And when he realises she’s in danger and another male wants her as his queen, MacKinnon will stop at nothing to protect her and claim her as his mate.

Purchase Links

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
Apple Books USA | Apple Books UK | Apple Books Canada | Apple Books Australia | Apple Books NZ
Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play

Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win one of five signed paperbacks and swag packs at the Inflamed by an Incubus book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on May 2nd.

Enter now: https://www.felicityheaton.com/craved-by-a-wolf-shifter-romance-novel.php

Excerpt

MacKinnon twitched and whipped towards the lake to his left as the air there shifted, suddenly growing cooler. His claws punched long from his fingertips, ready in a heartbeat, and didn’t retract even when he saw the towering jet of water that rose high into the air and thundered down into the lake around one hundred feet out. A fountain. It resembled the one in the nearby mortal town of Geneva.

In fact, the whole fae town resembled Geneva, as if someone had copied it building for building. Although, this immortal town was much smaller than the one topside. It was just as bright and elegant though, with warm sunshine that beat down on the pale sandstone pavement and reflected off the balconied buildings to his right.

Several of them were hotels, and he had been tempted to call into one and secure himself a place to stay, but when he had approached the doorman, the male had looked aghast and Kin had caught his reflection in the revolving door.

Since then, he had been keeping his head down, deeply aware of the way many of the townsfolk paused to stare. He had never felt so conspicuous. He glared at a trio of black-haired females who stood by the shore, their violet eyes and pointed ears betraying their breed as much as their antiquated corseted dresses did. They all stared at him and only one of them looked curious. The other two looked disgusted.

Sure, he was a big male, and he probably had a face like a smacked arse right now because his mood was still deep in a ditch and showed no sign of improving thanks to the attention he was attracting, and his throat looked like someone had used it as a punchbag, but there was really no reason for all the finely dressed males and females to gawp at him.

He levelled a black look at the trio of elves, causing them to turn away.

He heaved a sigh as he looked ahead of him and saw only more nobles, coming and going along the promenade as if it was the fashionable thing to do. The gods only knew it probably was in a town like this one. It reeked of wealth.

Kin denied the urge to keep his head down as he walked, tipped his damned chin up and shoulders back instead, because he wasn’t going to be intimidated or cowed by these noble folk.

His gaze narrowed on a group of pointy eared males ahead of him, ones who wore green leather trousers and white shirts beneath a matching jerkin. Gold glittered around their wrists and adorned their ears, and their finely boned features settled into scowls as they caught sight of him. Kin scowled right back at them, barely leashing the urge that surged through him and had his claws itching to rip into their flesh, to wipe the haughty smirks off their fae faces.

Nymphs.

He growled through his clenched teeth, battling memories that bubbled to the surface. A darkened room. Candles bursting to life. Fae nobles forming a ring around him, seated on opulent gold and velvet chairs as servants scraped and bowed to them.

The crack of a whip.

Pain echoed down his spine, a ghost of his past that continued to taunt him whenever he let the memories come, whenever he wasn’t strong enough to deny them and they slipped free of the box he had locked them away in. It would be days before he had fully rid himself of them, freeing himself of their torment.

The sensible side of him said to move on, to ignore the nymphs because they couldn’t provide him with the information he needed and, therefore, they didn’t matter. The side of him that had been born in that dark part of his past, that refused to be tamed, rose to crush it and he pivoted towards the blond males, unable to stop himself. His claws lengthened further and his fangs bit into his gums as he strode towards them, rapidly crossing the span of flagstones that separated them. His breathing quickened, deepened, sending vital oxygen to his blood as he geared up for a fight.

One of the nymphs noticed him approaching and tapped another on the arm, and before Kin could kick off and grab at least one of them, the whole group had disappeared. Kin stopped where they had been and glared at the rippling blue water of the lake, breathing hard and struggling to rein in his anger and the urge to lash out at everyone who moved behind him. He fixed his focus on the water, staring beyond the surface to pick out the flora and fauna that called the lake home. He tracked a school of small fish, bewitched by how their silver sides made them flash whenever they changed direction and how they moved as one, in perfect symphony.

The scent of herbs and metal filled his nostrils.

MacKinnon turned and looked over his shoulder, seeking the source of it. He pivoted when he spotted two witches strolling along the street. They paused in front of the window of one of the stores.

He crossed the broad stretch of pavement to them, not failing to notice how their slight shoulders tensed beneath their plain black dresses as he closed in. He glanced at his reflection in the window they faced, locking gazes with the one on the left, and swallowed to wet his throat as he ran his hand over his wild dark hair.

“Excuse me, lasses, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find a witch named Hella.” He made a point of stopping a good six feet from them, attempting to show them that he wasn’t a threat with his body language as well as his gentle tone of voice.

They turned to face him as one, ran an assessing gaze down him and then spoke to him.

In German.

Their tone wasn’t even close to gentle.

It was abrasive, with a dismissive note.

Before he could try again, they hurried away from him.

Kin growled at his reflection in the clothing store’s window, baring his fangs, because he must have asked at least two dozen witches about Hella now and none of them would tell him. He doubted they didn’t know her. There was always a glimmer in their eyes, a spark that betrayed them and said they knew exactly where to find the female he was seeking.

They just didn’t want to tell him.

He took in his appearance. Taller than most witches by a good foot and a half. Probably three times their slender weight in muscle. Scruff on his face. Unkempt hair that looked exactly how it should given how many times he had clawed, raked and shoved his fingers through it in frustration over the last few hours.

Eyes that were currently more gold than grey because his wolf side was at the fore, his temper way beyond his control.

And a pretty black and purple bruise across his throat.

He could hardly blame the witches for not wanting to tell him where to find one of their own.

Kin huffed. Maybe if he schooled his features a little and tried to appear more approachable and less homicidal then they would speak with him.

He doubted it.

Witches were quite protective of their own, but it was worth a shot.

He tried out a few faces, attempting to appear charming as he smiled at his reflection, and probably looking like he was losing his mind. A shiver skated down his spine and his wolf instincts growled at him that someone was watching him. He shifted his gaze to the left, catching the reflection of the three females who lingered a few feet behind him. Pretty wee lasses. All of them wore provocative leather corsets and mini-skirts in glaring colours, designed to draw the attention of males to them.

Succubi.

They sidled over to him and he turned to face them, flashing them all a warm smile that had their eyes brightening. Maybe he could get information on Hella from someone other than a witch. Witches did business with other immortals after all. Chances were high that several people in this town would have gone to Hella for a potion or spell.

The tallest of the succubi, a delicate pink-haired beauty who stood a good foot shorter than him despite her stiletto boots, offered a smile in return and stepped ahead of her sisters. She paused only inches from him and stroked a small hand down his chest as she faux-purred at him.

“You look like you need to let loose,” she murmured, her voice like honey, sweet and tempting him to dip his head and have a taste of what she was offering.

He kept his spine straight and resisted her allure, letting her feather her fingers over his chest to the open vee of his dark grey Henley. She teased the strip of flesh there, her glittering blue eyes growing hooded.

“Been a while since we had one as strong as you in this town. Visiting someone?” She grazed her fingers across the dip between his pectorals.

The shorter of the other two came up beside him and stroked her hand down his forearm and pushed the long sleeve of his top up to reveal skin.

She leaned in and licked it, and groaned. “He tastes like sunshine.”

“No tasting,” the third one barked and pulled her off him, shoving her aside. She grinned wickedly. “At least not unless I can get a lick of this pop too.”

“Lasses, there’s plenty o’ me to go around.” Kin held his hands up and smiled.

The three succubi sank into each other on a sigh.

“Did you hear that voice?” Pink-hair said with a dreamy smile at her sisters.

The shorter, brunette female swayed towards her. “Did I? When was the last time we had a Scot?”

“Makes me ache just hearing it. Do you think he knows how to put it to good use? I could probably feed off him just talking to me!” The older of the three, a pretty button-nosed blonde, edged her hand towards him.

Kin grinned down at them, aware they were saying whatever it took to lure him under their spell and make him part with his coin, but enjoying it nonetheless. “I’m here on business, but perhaps I could be enticed to take a small break from my hunt; if you would be so inclined to help me.”

“Be so inclined?” Pink-hair swayed towards him now, hunger lighting her eyes. “Darling, I’ll do whatever you want if it will get you into my bed for the night.”

Our bed,” Brunette snapped.

“Yes, our bed.” Blonde licked her lips.

All three of them sidled closer, crowding him as they gazed adoringly at him, as if he had just fallen out of Heaven or a dream. Their scents swirled around him, fogging his head a little, and he focused his mind, on his guard against them because he had no intention of parting with his coin or indulging these succubi in any way.

Mostly because he would probably end up parting with his life.

As strong as he was, he wasn’t sure he could handle three succubi feeding on him.

He drew down a breath as he tried to decide how to ask them about Hella and the fog in his head grew thicker as an intoxicating scent filled his lungs.

Like a blend of fresh rain on heather moorland faintly spiced with cinnamon.

Kin breathed deeper, unable to get enough of the scent, and his muscles clamped down on his bones as his blood heated. His wolf side lunged to the fore and his fangs lengthened, his claws emerging as hunger rolled through him, fiercer than he had ever felt it before.

It was a trick.

A power the succubi were wielding to pull him under their spell and into their bed.

Only when he bent his head to sniff their necks and scent them, it wasn’t any of them who smelled so enticing.

He groaned as his cock stiffened in response to the scent as it grew stronger and seemed to invade every cell in his body and hijack it. His head clouded more rapidly, thoughts blurring and fading to the background as instinct stole control. He desperately scanned the crowd on the promenade, seeking the source of the scent.

And froze when his gaze landed on a stunning, blue-haired lass with emerald eyes.

A chill skated down his spine and his shaft went hard as stone.

It was her.

She was the source of the scent.

She was his fated one.

He felt it in his bones. His soul. This female had been made for him, was meant for only him, and she would be his. He shoved the succubi aside, unaware of them now, the world narrowing down to the beautiful lass fate had created for him.

Hella.

MacKinnon drifted towards her, powerless to resist her pull. The need to be close to her was strong and she hadn’t even noticed him yet. How desperate would he be to be near to her, pressed against her and holding her in his arms when she did see him? The urge to gather her to him was already overwhelming, his awareness of the world coming back as instinct growled that his female was parading down a busy street in a black dress that highlighted her figure.

Drawing the eyes of other males.

She stiffened, her body locking up tight.

Was she aware of him?

He tracked the path of her gaze as she tossed a look over her shoulder.

To a group of bare-chested nymphs.

Her panic hit him like a shockwave, rocking him back on his heels, and he growled and kicked off as the dozen blond males made their move, launching towards her. He wasn’t sure what his female had done to deserve the wrath of a witch or a pack of nymphs, and he didn’t care. Every fibre of his being howled at him to protect her and he would do just that. He charted an intercept course, shoving men and women aside, not caring where they landed as he locked his gaze on the two nymphs leading the charge.

He sensed the female move.

Felt her fear.

Instinct demanded he go to her, had him twisting on his heel and barrelling into two shifter males. The black-haired men went down hard and he leaped over them, ignoring their yells, his gaze wild as he sought the witch.

A larger nymph had her in his clutches and was holding her tightly despite her attempts to break free.

Kin snarled and gnashed his fangs when her fear cranked up a notch and he spotted the reason why.

The bastard had cuffed her.

The bright silver band of metal around her delicate wrist glinted in the sunlight as she desperately struggled.

Kin grabbed a female and pushed her out of his way, into a group of males, his heart hammering as the other nymphs reached Hella.

Her green eyes shone with terror as she looked up at the male who held her, one who towered as tall as Kin and probably weighed as much in muscle. Not that it was going to stop Kin from tearing the male a new one and teaching him the error of his ways.

No one touched his fated female.

Kin cocked his fist as he lunged towards the bastard, aiming at the back of his head, determined to knock his teeth out from behind.

He threw the punch as soon as he was close enough.

And hit nothing but air as the fiend teleported.

Taking his wee witch with him.

Rage burned up Kin’s blood and he couldn’t hold back the feral howl that rolled up his throat, tossed his head back and let loose, pouring all his fury into it as his spine bowed forwards, his claws like talons as he dragged his hands down to his sides and every muscle in his body tensed.

Black fur swept over his skin and he itched all over, his bones aching as anger had him close to shifting, the need to track his female bringing his wolf to the fore. He managed to find the strength to deny it and clung to his mortal form as he twisted towards the succubi who had been flirting with him.

They were huddled together in front of the shop still, a sea of fallen men and women between him and them, all of which looked ready to tear him a new one as he stalked through them, heading for the succubi.

“Where do the nymphs live?” he snarled as soon as he was close enough to his prey, and when none of them answered him quickly enough, he shot his hand out and gripped the throat of the pink-haired one. He dragged her against him and flashed his fangs in her face. “Tell me where the nymphs live in this town.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head, her hands coming up to grip his arm as she choked.

“Not here.” The brunette pressed her hands against his chest, trying to push him away. “They don’t live here.”

“Lies,” he spat, because he had seen other nymphs during his search for Hella. They had to have a building or two here in the town somewhere, a place they called home. He snarled, unable to hold it back as he thought of his female at their mercy.

Nymphs were sexual predators, using their beauty and charms to seduce unwitting females. He had seen the breed at work with his own eyes, had watched them pull even unwilling women under their spell, convincing them to surrender to them.

The blonde sank her little claws into his hand, drawing blood and earning herself a glare. “They bore the royal seal. Hella will be in Lucia by now. Let her go!“

Hella.

The confirmation that the ethereal blue-haired female had been the one he had come to find shook him, had his grip on the succubus relaxing against his will as he struggled to keep his mind on the hunt and off how beautiful Hella was.

Was she really his mate?

He shook that thought away with a growl, unwilling to trust his instincts. The feeling she stirred in him was a fabrication, a lie meant to make him do as the witch wanted and a method of punishing Hella for whatever sin she had committed against the one who had cursed him.

He would be a fool to allow himself to believe Hella was his fated one.

Yet he couldn’t stem the need to find her and save her from the nymphs.

Kin shoved the pink-haired female at her companion. “Lucia? Where is that? Somewhere in Switzerland?“

Pink-hair laughed and he had half a mind to grab her and choke her again for mocking his ignorance. She rubbed her throat. “Lucia isn’t a town. It’s not even a country.”

He flexed his fingers, tired of dancing around the answer, because he needed to be moving. He needed to find the nymphs who had taken Hella from him and take her back.

She noticed his subtle threat and blurted, “It’s the faery realm.”

“Fuck,” MacKinnon bit out.

First another country. Now another realm. Add the fact that his wolf instincts had recognised Hella as his fated one and it was all becoming too much. He missed the uncomplicated nature of his home in the Highlands already, ached to return to the clan and rest atop his favourite spot, taking in the rolling moorland that embraced the munros and waiting for the gloaming, when a sense of magic and wonder filled the air.

His mother had held him on her lap many times as a pup to tell him the gloaming was when the faeries came out… in that brief moment between day and night.

Between light and darkness.

Now he was expected to go to a place of faeries and he was unsure what to expect when he got there. There were other stories about fae-kind. Darker stories. The ancient books in his possession, passed to him by his mother, were filled with tales of the seelie and unseelie, and their eternal war.

The thought of stepping into their realm had him hesitating, lingering in the mortal one, where he was safe.

But the vision of his female being held against her will, shackled and stripped of power, and the lingering scent of her that swirled around him had him gearing up for a battle.

He couldn’t bear the thought of her in danger, so he would place himself in the path of it by pursuing her into another world.

Kin flexed his fingers into fists.

He’d had to fight for everything he had ever wanted.

It looked as if this time would be no different.

If it was war the nymphs wanted, it was war he would give them.

Purchase Links

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
Apple Books USA | Apple Books UK | Apple Books Canada | Apple Books Australia | Apple Books NZ
Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play

Books in the Series

Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince (99c right now!)
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger
Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love
Book 16: Avenged by an Angel
Book 17: Seduced by a Demon King
Book 18: Scorched by Darkness
Book 19: Inflamed by an Incubus
Book 20: Craved by a Wolf
Book 21: Bewitched by a Vampire (Coming 14th June 2022)

I FLOVE a story involving a shifter and when it’s a centuries old wolf shifter, with a growly Scottish accent, I’m all in!!

I’ve been intrigued by Hella since we met her in Fenix’s book…. That we knew she was in some sort of trouble, as well as dealing with a big wolfy shifter who she didn’t really know what to do with had me looking forward to her story. I really liked that she was feisty, clever, cheeky, determined but helluva stubborn – that she had gotten herself into some kind of tight spot made me wonder just which one of those traits was the cause.

When we first encounter Grant MacKinnon he too has found himself in a bit of a tight spot…. An unknown witch has crushed his ego in front of an audience in the fae town he was visiting, but to boot, she’s just cursed him to die, oh yeah, she also informed him he has a fated mate who he has to find. Thus starts a journey and adventure that Kin never imagined himself on.

This pair were perfect together if only Hella could for once trust a guy to like her for herself and if Kin could stop putting his foot in his mouth..

I loved that Kin’s accent was more pronounced depending on circumstances and events…. Personally when I’m tired, annoyed or a tad tipsy, my Glaswegian accent is most definitely more noticeable….
It was fun seeing the scenes that were previously in Inflamed by an Incubus but from Hella’s/MacKinnon’s POV.

Craved by a Wolf was actioned packed, had suspense, humour and tons of heat.
I’ve said it before but it’s worth repeating…. Regardless of how many books into the Eternal Mates story arc we get, Felicity has the ability to keep things interesting engaging and fresh, as well as piquing our excitement for the next book and fated couple in the series.

I cannot wait for Night and Lilian’s book ~ Bewitched by a Vampire!!

About Felicity
Felicity Heaton

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling London Vampires series. Seven sexy and sinful Greek god brothers can be your new addiction in the Guardians of Hades series. Or how about four hot alpha shifter brothers in her Cougar Creek Mates series? Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | YOUTUBE | INSTAGRAM

RELEASE BLITZ – Scammer Girl by Michelle Dayton

Jo is a professional online romance scammer and Jamie is The Conscience of Silicon Valley. They don’t trust one another, and when they meet in person, they quickly discover that not everything appears as it seems. Fans of Christina Lauren and Sally Thorne will love Scammer Girl, a spicy enemies to lovers romance.

Blurb

Five years ago, Jo Harper did a bad thing. Dumped, injured, and in crippling debt, Jo did what any desperate woman with a PhD in psychology and above-average computer skills would: become an elite, undetectable online romance scammer. Now Jo and her team of four young women bring in enough cash to keep them securely afloat. Their targets? Married cheaters.

Jamie March, Bay Area royalty known as “The Conscience of Silicon Valley,” hates every aspect of online crime, especially those who defraud people. And when it appears that his brother is the victim of a sophisticated romance scam, he can’t stand idly by.

What’s weird though, is that when Jo and Jamie meet…they don’t hate one another. Not at all. He makes her laugh and feel alive again. She challenges his intellect like no other. But they can’t trust one another, right? And you can’t fall in love with someone you don’t trust—or can you?

Add to Goodreads Here!

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Excerpt

Copyright 2022 Michelle Dayton

Chapter One

It is a truth universally acknowledged that to trick a rich man out of a large sum of money, one must be very clever and very patient.

​In the hotel coffee shop, I stopped drumming my fingers on the table and with great effort stilled my twitching foot. I’d been born clever, but the whole patience thing was taking a lot longer. 

​Across the room, Heather sat serenely, her rolling suitcase beside her, nose buried in a book on the politics of Silicon Valley. Her thick, dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail and the tortoiseshell glasses perched on the edge of her tiny nose gave her a studious air. She wore a tattered gray Boston Red Sox T-shirt that dwarfed her in an adorable way.

​She looked perfect. It had taken me forever to come up with the character’s exact look, but it was going to work. I just knew it. The team had made solid progress with our new San Francisco targets; I estimated we’d hear from half of them within the next week, which was pretty typical. But nabbing this one would make the road trip an unqualified success.

​“How’s the book?” I murmured. The miniscule mic, invisible below my dress’s collar, transmitted to an equally covert bud in Heather’s ear. 

​“Incomprehensible,” Heather muttered without moving her lips. “Did you actually read this?”

​Blech. I grimaced. “Every word, unfortunately. He’s babbled about it non-stop on LinkedIn.”

​I looked between the shop’s door to the lobby and its door to the street. Since he lived in a building around the corner, he’d most likely enter from the street. Glancing down at my watch, I sat up straighter. It was 8:45 a.m. In the past year, Linc Townsend had posted three times before 9:00 a.m. on his Twitter page that the only proper way to start a Friday morning was with a flat white from this particular coffee locale. 

​There! The door to the street swung open, revealing a tall man in his late thirties. His trademark white-blond hair was cropped close to his head. “Showtime,” I whispered to Heather. “Turn slightly so that the book is more obvious and he can see your shirt.”

​Heather took a sip from the cup on her table and angled herself to face the counter directly. She raised the book so that it rested on the table, the front cover obvious. Then she pushed back her shoulders; the logo on her shirt floated above the book. 

​Townsend strode to the register and smiled at the barista. “My usual.” After paying, he walked to the edge of the counter to wait for his drink. Damn it, he was pulling out his phone. If he got immersed in scrolling, he might not look up. He might not see her at all. 

​My gaze lit on the tray of lids, pitchers, and sugars at the edge of the counter. “Get up and get some milk for your drink,” I whispered. “Bring the book.”

​Heather stood, her eyes still looking down at the pages. Then she transferred the book to one hand, keeping her finger inserted halfway, the picture of someone who couldn’t bear to lose her place. She picked up the coffee cup with the other and glided across the shop, looking very much the intense grad student she was pretending to be.

​“Excuse me,” she said softly to Townsend without looking at him. She put her cup on the counter and poured milk with the same hand, propping the book on the counter with the other.

​As he moved a foot away to allow her some space, he gave a fleeting look at her face and at the book on the counter. 

​I grinned. Five, four, three, two …

​“What do you think of this book?” he asked Heather, tapping the hardcover. “I’m very familiar with it.” I bit my smile under control and waited for Heather’s opening line. I’d worked hard on it. 

​Heather looked up at Townsend, hazel eyes wide as if he’d startled her. Then she let her brow furrow and her mouth fold into a cute purse, as if she were seriously considering the question. “It’s uneven,” she finally said, meeting his gaze directly. “Some chapters are engaging and thought-provoking. But others are much less impressive.” 

​Nodding to herself as though her opinion was the final word on the matter, she gave him a small dismissive smile and took her coffee and book back to her table. I suppressed a laugh. Heather was such a pro. I might write the lines, but Heather always nailed the delivery.

​Townsend gaped at her, his mouth slightly parted. His gaze traveled from the beat-up sneakers on her feet, up the length of her faded jeans, and rested on the Red Sox T-shirt. Then he looked at Heather’s face, once again absorbed in the book. His gaze softened on the glasses and ponytail. 

Gotcha. I had agreed with one of Andie’s key assessments from her deep dive into Linc Townsend’s life: even though high school was twenty years in Townsend’s past, he was still nostalgic about the bespectacled brunette beauty he’d dated his senior year. Before she dumped him on her way to Harvard.

He was so distracted that the barista had to say “Linc” twice when his flat white was ready.

​Here we go. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I cleared my throat, ready. Townsend hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room and sitting, uninvited, in the other chair at Heather’s table. She looked up, annoyance clear on her face. “Wh –ah, can I help you?”

​His words transmitted clearly through the mic clipped to Heather’s bra. “You’ve intrigued me. I want to know which chapters you found worthwhile and which were lacking.”

​Taking a deep breath, I spoke as quickly and clearly as I could. Heather was used to the ventriloquist act, but if I flubbed a word, she would sound unnatural. “I enjoyed the chapters about how Silicon Valley types are extreme idealists. How life is just a matter of discovering great ideas through conversation, innovation, and education.” I paused so Heather could catch up. As soon as Heather spouted “education,” I started again. “But I think the book’s conclusion that Silicon Valley is a libertarian-like ideology within the Democrat Party—well, that’s a bit of a stretch.”

​Heather delivered the last sentence flawlessly and raised her eyebrows. “Satisfied?”

​Linc Townsend set his flat white on the table and leaned forward. I waited for a quick lecture of approval, especially since, as the creator of a successful tech start-up, he’d been quoted at length in the parts of the book that Heather said she liked.

​But he asked her an important question before mansplaining. “What is your name?” He offered a manicured hand across the table.

We’d hooked him already.

Buy Now!

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About Michelle Dayton

There are only three things Michelle Dayton loves more than sexy and suspenseful novels: her family, the city of Chicago, and Mr. Darcy. Michelle dreams of a year of world travel – as long as the trip would include weeks and weeks of beach time. As a bourbon lover and unabashed wine snob, Michelle thinks heaven is discussing a good book over an adult beverage.

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RELEASE BLITZ – Things We Never Got Over by Lucy Score

Title: Things We Never Got Over

Author: Lucy Score

Release: January 13, 2021

Genre: Romance

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59817761-things-we-never-got-over

Buy Links ( ):

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3tzb391

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/31PMDwh

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3tko1Y0

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/3GnpWP3

Blurb:

Knox is a badass, bar-owning barber who prefers to live his life the way he takes his coffee: Alone. Well, except for his basset hound, Waylon. He doesn’t tolerate drama (Knox, not Waylon. Waylon loves drama.). Especially not when it comes in the form of a stranded runaway bride.

Naomi answered her estranged–some would say evil–twin’s call for help, arriving in rural and rough-around-the-edges Knockemout, Virginia, ready to be the good sister as usual.

Too bad her evil twin hasn’t changed at all. After helping herself to Naomi’s car and cash, Tina leaves her with something unexpected. The 11-year-old niece Naomi didn’t know she had. Dun dun dunnnn!

There are reasons why Knox doesn’t do family drama or high-maintenance women who actually believe in all the bullshit trappings of romance. But since her life imploded right in front of him, the least he can do is help Naomi out of her jam. Even if the uptight good girl is a gigantic pain in his ass. As soon as she stops getting herself into new trouble, he can stop dragging her into his bed and go back to his peaceful, solitary life.

At least, that’s the plan until the trouble turns to real danger.

Chapter One

Worst. Day. Ever

Naomi

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked into Cafe Rev, but it sure as hell wasn’t a picture of myself behind the register under the cheery headline “Do Not Serve.” A yellow frowny face magnet held the photo in place.

First of all, I’d never set foot in Knockemout, Virginia, let alone done anything to warrant a punishment as egregious as withholding caffeine. Secondly, just what did a person have to do in this dusty little town to have a mugshot hanging in the local cafe?

Ha. Mug shot. Because I was in a cafe. Gosh, I was funny when I was too tired to blink.

Anyway, thirdly, it was an incredibly unflattering picture. I looked like I’d had a long-term threesome with a tanning bed and cheap eyeliner.

Right about then, reality penetrated my exhausted, dazed, bobby-pinned-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life head.

Once again, Tina had managed to make my life just a little bit worse. And considering what had gone down in the last twenty-four hours, that was saying something.

“Can I help…” The man on the other side of the counter, the one who could give me my precious latte, took a step back and held up hands the size of dinner plates. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He was a burly guy with smooth, dark skin and a shaved, nicely shaped head. His neatly trimmed beard was snow white, and I spotted a couple of tattoos peeking out of the neck and sleeves of his coveralls. The name Justice was stitched on his curious uniform.

I tried my most winning smile, but thanks to an overnight road trip spent crying through fake eyelashes, it felt more like a grimace.

“That’s not me,” I said, pointing a finger with a wasted French-tip manicure at the photo. “I’m Naomi. Naomi Witt.”

The man peered at me with suspicion before producing a pair of spectacles from the front pocket of his coveralls and slipping them on.

He blinked then gave me a head-to-toe scan. I saw the realization begin to hit.

“Twins,” I explained.

“Well, shit,” he murmured, stroking one of those big hands through his beard.

Justice still looked a little skeptical. I couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, how many people actually had an evil twin?

“That’s Tina. My sister. I’m supposed to meet her here.” Though why my estranged twin asked me to meet her in an establishment where she clearly wasn’t welcome was another question I was too tired to ask.

Justice was still staring at me, and I realized his gaze was lingering on my hair. Reflexively, I patted my head, and a wilted daisy fluttered to the floor. Whoops. I probably should have looked in the mirror at the motel before I set foot in public looking like a disheveled, unhinged stranger on her way home from a role-playing festival.

“Here,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my yoga shorts and thrusting my driver’s license at the man. “See? I’m Naomi and I would really, really like a gigantic latte.”

Justice took my ID and studied it, then my face again. Finally, his stoic expression cracked, and he broke into a wide grin. “I’ll be damned. It’s nice to meet you, Naomi.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too, Justice. Especially if you’re going to make me that aforementioned caffeine.”

“I’ll make you a latte that’ll make your hair stand on end,” he promised.

A man who knew how to meet my immediate needs and did it with a smile? I couldn’t help but fall just a little bit in love with him right then and there.

While Justice got to work, I admired the cafe. It was decked out in what looked like manly garage style. Corrugated metal on the walls, shiny red shelves, stained concrete floor. All the drinks had names like Red Line Latte and Checkered Flag Cappuccino. It was downright charming.

There were a handful of early morning coffee drinkers seated at the small round tables scattered throughout the place. Every single person was looking at me like they were really not happy to see me.

“How do you feel about maple and bacon flavors, darlin’?” Justice called from the gleaming espresso machine.

“I feel great about them. Especially if they come in a cup the size of a bucket,” I assured him.

His laugh echoed through the place and seemed to relax the rest of the patrons who went back to ignoring me.

The front door opened, and I turned, expecting to see Tina.

But the man who stormed inside was definitely not my sister. He looked to be in more dire need of caffeine than I was.

Hot would be a decent way to describe him. Hot as hell would be even more accurate. He was tall enough that I could wear my highest pair of heels and still have to tilt my head up to make out with him—my official categorization of male height. His hair was in the dirty blond range and was cut short on the sides and swept back on top, which suggested he had good taste and reasonable grooming skills.

Both of those criteria landed high on my List of Reasons to be Attracted to a Man. The beard was a brand-new addition to the list. I’d never kissed a man with a beard and I had a sudden, irrational interest in experiencing that at some point.

Then I got to his eyes. They were a cool blue-gray that made me think of gun metal and glaciers.

He strode right on up to me and stepped into my personal space like he had a standing invitation. When he crossed tattooed forearms across a broad chest, I made a squeaky sound in the back of my throat.

Wow.

“Thought I made myself real clear,” he growled.

“Uh. Huh?”

I was confused. The man was glaring at me like I was the most hated character on a reality TV show, yet I still wanted to see what he looked like naked. I hadn’t exhibited such poor sexual judgment since I was in college.

I blamed my exhaustion and emotional scarring.

Behind the counter, Justice stopped mid-latte creation and waved both hands in the air. “Hold on now,” he began.

“It’s okay, Justice,” I assured him. “You just keep making that coffee, and I’ll take care of this…gentleman.”

Chairs pushed back from tables all around us, and I watched as every last customer beelined for the door, some with their mugs still in hand. None of them made any eye contact with me on their way out.

“Knox, it’s not what you think,” Justice tried again.

“I’m not playing any games today. Get the fuck out,” the Viking ordered. The blond god of sexy fury was rapidly plummeting lower on my sexy checklist.

I pointed at my chest. “Me?”

“I’ve had enough of your games. You got five seconds to walk out this door and never come back,” he said, stepping in even closer until the tips of his boots brushed my exposed toes in their flip-flops.

Damn. Up close, he looked like he’d just stormed off a marauding Viking vessel…or the set of a cologne commercial. One of those weird artsy ones that didn’t make any sense and had names like Ignorant Beast.

“Look, sir. I’m in the midst of a personal crisis and all I’m trying to do is get a cup of coffee.”

“I fucking told you, Tina. You are not to come in here and harass Justice or his customers again, or I’d personally escort your ass out of town.”

“Knox—”

The bad-tempered, sexy man-beast held up his finger in Justice’s direction. “One second, bud. Looks like I gotta take out the trash.”

“The trash?” I gasped. I thought Virginians were supposed to be friendly. Instead, I’d been in town barely half an hour and was now being rudely accosted by a Viking with the manners of a caveman.

“Darlin’, your coffee’s up,” Justice said, sliding a very large to-go cup onto the wooden counter.

My eyes darted toward the steamy, caffeinated goodness.

“You even think about picking up that cup, and we’re gonna have a problem,” the Viking said, his voice low and dangerous.

But Leif Erikson didn’t know who he was messing with today.

Every woman had her line. Mine, which was admittedly drawn too far back, had just been crossed.

“You take one step toward that beautiful latte that my friend Justice made especially for me, and I will make you regret the moment you met me.”

I was a nice person. According to my parents, I was a good girl. And according to that online quiz I took two weeks ago, I was a people pleaser. I wasn’t great at doling out threats.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and I refused to notice the sexy crinkles at the corner.

“I already regret it, and so does this whole damn town. Just because you change your hair doesn’t mean I’m gonna forget about the trouble you’ve caused here. Now get your ass out the door and don’t come back.”

“He thinks you’re Tina,” Justice cut in.

I didn’t care if this ass thought I was a serial killing cannibal. He was standing between me and my caffeine.

The blond beast turned his head toward Justice. “What the hell are you saying?”

Before my nice friend with the coffee could explain, I drilled my finger into the Viking’s chest. It didn’t go very far, thanks to the obscene layer of muscle under the skin. But I made sure to lead with the nail.

“Now you listen to me,” I began. “I don’t care if you think I’m my sister or that weasel who jacked up the price of anti-malarial drugs. I am a human being having a really bad day after the worst one of her life. I do not have it in me to stuff down these emotions today. So you’d better get out of my way and leave me alone, Viking.”

He looked downright bemused for a hot second.

I took that to mean it was coffee time. Side-stepping him, I picked up the cup, took a delicate sniff, and then shoved my face into the steaming hot life force.

I drank deeply, willing the caffeine to perform its miracles as flavors exploded on my tongue. I was pretty sure the inappropriate moan I heard came from my own mouth but was too tired to care. When I finally lowered the cup and swiped the back of my hand over my mouth, the Viking was still standing there, staring at me.

Turning my back on him, I flashed my hero a smile and slid my credit card across the counter. “You, sir, are an artist. What do I owe you for the best latte I’ve ever had in my life, Justice?”

“Considering the morning you’re having, darlin’, it’s on the house,” he said, handing my license and credit card back to me.

“You, my friend, are a true gentleman. Unlike some others.” I cast a glare over my shoulder to where the Viking was standing, legs braced, arms crossed. Taking another dive into my drink, I pulled my emergency twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket and tucked it into the tip jar. “Thank you for being nice to me on the worst day of my life.”

“Thought that day was yesterday,” the scowling behemoth butted in.

My sigh was weary as I slowly turned to face him. “That was before I met you. So I can officially say that as bad as yesterday was, today beat it out by a slim margin.” Once again, I turned back to Justice. “I’m sorry this jerk scared away all your customers. But I’ll be back for another one of these real soon.”

“Looking forward to it, Naomi,” he said with a wink.

I turned to leave and smacked right into a mile of grumpy man chest.

“Naomi?” he said.

“Go away.” It felt almost good to be rude for once in my life. To take a stand.

“Your name’s Naomi,” the Viking stated.

I was too busy trying to incinerate him with a glare of righteous anger to respond.

“Not Tina?” he pressed.

“They’re twins, man,” Justice said, the smile evident in his voice.

“Fuck me.” The Viking shoved a hand through his hair.

“I worry about your friend’s vision,” I said to Justice, pointing at the mug shot of Tina.

Tina had gone bleach blonde at some point in the past decade-plus, making our otherwise subtle differences even more obvious.

“I left my contacts at home,” he said.

“Next to your manners?” I quipped. The caffeine was hitting my bloodstream, making me unusually feisty.

He didn’t respond with anything other than a heated glare.

I sighed. “Get out of my way, Leif Erikson.”

“The name is Knox. And why are you here?”

What the hell kind of name was that? Was it a hard Knox life? Did he tell a lot of Knox Knox jokes? Was it short for something? Knoxwell? Knoxathan?

“That’s none of your business, Knox. Nothing I do or don’t do is your business. In fact, my existence is none of your business. Now, kindly get out of my way.”

I felt like screaming as loud as I could for as long as I could. But I’d tried that a couple of times in the car on the long drive here, and it hadn’t helped.

Thankfully, the beautiful oaf heaved an annoyed sigh and did the decent, life-preserving thing by getting out of my way. I swept out of the café and into the summer swelter with as much dignity as I could muster.

If Tina wanted to meet up with me, she could find me at the motel. I didn’t need to wait around and be accosted by strangers with the personalities of cacti.

I’d head back to my dingy room, take every last pin out of my hair, and shower until the hot water ran out. Then I’d figure out what to do next.

It was a solid plan. It was only missing one thing.

My car.

The bike rack in front of the coffee shop was still there. The laundromat with its bright posters in the window was still across the street next to the mechanic’s garage.

But my car was not where I’d left it.

The parking spot I’d squeezed into in front of the pet shop was empty.

I looked up and down the block. But there was no sign of my trusty, dusty Volvo.

“You lost?”

I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. “Go. Away.”

“Now what’s your problem?”

I turned around and found Knox watching me intently, holding a to-go coffee cup.

“What’s my problem?” I repeated.

I wanted to kick him in the shins and steal his coffee.

“Nothin’ wrong with my hearing, sweetheart. No need to yell.”

“My problem is while I wasted five minutes of my life getting to know you, my car was towed.”

“You sure?”

“No. I never have any idea where I park my car. I just leave them everywhere and buy new ones when I can’t find them.”

He shot me a look.

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, I’m being sarcastic.” I reached for my phone only to remember I no longer had a phone.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“Whoever taught you to express concern for a person did it wrong.” Without another word, I stalked off in what I hoped was the direction of the local police station.

I didn’t make it to the next storefront before a big, hard hand locked around my upper arm.

It was the sleep deprivation, the emotional rawness, I told myself. Those were the only reasons I felt the jittery zing of awareness at his grip.

“Stop,” he ordered, sounding surly.

“Hands. Off.” I flailed my arm awkwardly, but his grip only tightened.

“Then stop walking away from me.”

I paused my evasive flailing. “I’ll stop walking away if you stop being an asshole.”

His nostrils flared as he stared up at the sky, and I thought I heard him counting.

“Are you seriously counting to ten?” I was the one who was wronged. I was the one with a reason to pray to the heavens for patience.

He got all the way to ten and still looked annoyed. “If I stop being an asshole, will you stay and talk for a minute?”

I took another sip of coffee and thought about it. “Maybe.”

“I’m letting go,” he warned.

“Great,” I prompted.

We both looked down at his hand on my arm. Slowly he loosened his grip and released me, but not before his fingertips trailed over the sensitive skin inside my arm.

Goose bumps broke out, and I hoped he wouldn’t notice. Especially because, in my body, goose bumps and pointy nipple reactions were closely related.

“You cold?” His gaze was most definitely not on my arm or shoulders but my chest.

Damn it. “Yes,” I lied.

“It’s eighty-four degrees, and you’re drinking hot coffee.”

“If you’re finished mansplaining internal temperature, I’d like to go find my car,” I said, crossing my free arm over my traitorous boobs. “Perhaps you could point me in the direction of the nearest impound lot or police station?”

He stared at me for a long beat, then shook his head. “Come on then.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“Ha!” I choked out a laugh. He was delusional if he thought I’d willingly get in a car with him.

I was still shaking my head when he spoke again. “Let’s go, Daisy. I don’t have all day.”

Author Bio:

Lucy Score is a Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author. Small town contemporary rom-coms are her lady jam and she enjoys delivering the feels with a huge side of happily ever after.

Her books have been translated into several languages, making readers around the world snort laugh, swoon, and sob. Lucy lives in Pennsylvania with the devastatingly handsome Mr. Lucy and their horrible cat.

In her spare time she enjoys sleeping, drinking copious amounts of coffee, and reading all the romance novels in the universe.

Social Media Links:

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http://instagram.com/scorelucy
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http://lucyscore.net

RELEASE BLITZ – Fastball (Stadium #3) by S.A. Clayton

Title: Fastball
Series: Stadium #3
Author: S.A. Clayton

Genre: Contemporary Sports Romance
Release Date: August 20, 2021

BLURB

Fastball- Noun: A pitch thrown at or near a player’s maximum velocity

Neither Josh nor Harper knows what their relationship would become, but over time they’ve relied on each other to pick the other when the world seems to want to keep them apart.

Nothing is ever easy when it comes to love and when secrets are revealed, relationships will be tested and the pressure might just become too much.

Their love is strong, but sometimes these things need to turndown so something better can rise from the ashes.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57061446-fast-ball

PURCHASE LINKS

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Kobo: https://bit.ly/3m2M6im
Apple Books: https://apple.co/3ANgMIl

EXCERPT

Chapter One: Harper

A Rolodex of pictures continues to filter through my brain. Over and over again I see image after image of Josh and me, all in different stages of undress, all extremely revealing and embarrassing.
This happens every night.
Falling asleep has become harder and harder because my brain doesn’t shut off the possibilities of who is doing this to us and why it keeps getting worse and worse. Every night Josh holds me, whispering encouraging words in my ear as I pretend to fall asleep. Does he know I fake it until he drifts off behind me? Probably not, but right now I try every trick in the book because those pictures are haunting me and nothing I do seems to quiet the storm inside my head.
After a few hours, I drift off, waiting for the haunting dreams to start. The ones where the pictures leak, where Josh loses everything and in turn, I lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But tonight is different. Tonight’s dream morphs from a nightmare to a flip-book of the worst horrors of my childhood, and before long I’m knee-deep in one of the worst nightmares I’ve had in decades.
I shoot up out of bed, soaking in sweat and shaking. My eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness as I try and find something to ground myself to this reality. The pads of Josh’s fingers graze my back and I jump at the contact.
“Shh, sweetheart, it’s just me.”
I look over, the exhausted look in his eyes evident, yet the worry creeps through enough for the guilt to set in. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down as I struggle to get the remnants of the dream off my skin.
“It’s okay,” I lie. “I’m fine.”
I don’t say anything else as I get out of bed and make my way out of Josh’s bedroom and into the kitchen. I don’t turn on any lights, letting the glow of the moon through the windows cast an eerie film over the space. The darkness of the dream starts to surround me as I shudder, trying to shake the image of my father’s lifeless body from my brain. I stayed here tonight because I wanted to see Josh before he went to practice tomorrow, and now I’m regretting it. I haven’t had a nightmare like that for months. I honestly thought they were gone for good, but now the realization that I have to explain to Josh what happened settles in and my stomach plummets. I try and shake the feeling as I get myself a glass of water, leaning back against the counter as Josh walks into the room.
My eyes catch the clock above the stove. Three a.m., great.
“You should go back to bed, it’s too early for you to be up,” I mutter.
Josh’s eyes never leave mine as he sits down at the island, his fingers intertwining as they rest on the cool granite. We sit in silence for a few seconds before I take another drink and place the empty glass in the sink.
“You’re not leaving that spot, are you?”
He just shakes his head, his eyes pleading for me to say something, anything that will allow him into this moment. Yet the effects of the dream still linger and the idea of talking about this shakes me to my core.
“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. I know this is hard, but I want to help you and I can’t do that if I don’t know what I’m up against.” My eyes cast down, feeling the weight of his gaze as I play with the edge of the counter. “Harper.” He doesn’t sound mad, he sounds concerned and it’s that distinction that propels me to the empty seat beside him.
Without saying a word, I sit down, leaning my head against his shoulder as his arms encase my body, sending a sense of warmth through my veins.
“This memory isn’t something I talk about… to anyone,” I admit.
He says nothing, his arms tightening as his lips brush my temple. “You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I just want you to let me in. I hate that I can’t fix this…”
I take a shuddering breath, realizing how long I’ve waited for someone to say those words to me.
“You won’t be able to fix this, Josh. Trust me. Years of therapy haven’t gotten rid of the nightmares.”
He leans back, our eyes meeting and the sense of helplessness that surrounds me is almost overwhelming, so I do the one thing that seems to always calm me down. I lean in and lightly kiss his lips, basking in their softness and I steel myself for what’s about to come out of my mouth.

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AUTHOR BIO

S.A. Clayton lives in a small town outside of Toronto, Canada with her husband and her scary large collection of books that seem to take over every room.
She has worked on both sides of the publishing industry, both in a bookstore and for actual publishing companies. Although she loved both for different reasons, she found that writing was her true passion and has spent the last few years breaking into the industry as best she can.
She is a lover of all things romance and began her writing journey in her late twenties. Since then, she has immersed herself in the romance genre and couldn’t be happier.
When she’s not writing or reading, she enjoys binging a great Netflix show (Stranger Things anyone?), baking (because who doesn’t love cookies!) and spending time with her family.


AUTHOR LINKS

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/S-A-Clayton/e/B07ZBN2KDR
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/saclaytonauthor
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/SAClaytonReaderCorner
Twitter: https://twitter.com/saclaytonauthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/saclaytonauthor
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/s-a-clayton
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19006786.S_A_Clayton
Newsletter: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/5f38043408206800261eba86

BOOK TOUR – Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears #1) by Felicity Heaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour for Stolen by her Bear, the first book in her brand new bear shifter romance series, Black Ridge Bears! The Black Ridge Bears series is all about the growly neighbours of the shifters in the Cougar Creek Mates series and is part of the Eternal Mates world. You can find out more about the world at http://www.felicityheaton.com/

If you love sizzling shifter romances featuring hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliff-hangers, because there’s nothing worse than a cliff-hanger!

About the Book

Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Series Book 1)
by Felicity Heaton

Saint is a bear shifter on the war path. He just wants to sleep the winter away, but his rowdy neighbours in the remote Rocky Mountains valley have other plans. When the cougar shifter brothers refuse to keep the noise down, he reacts on instinct, kidnapping a beautiful female who smells like sweet berries and tempts him like no other – a female who happens to be mated to one of the brothers.

Holly’s first taste of freedom isn’t going as planned. Escaping her family to join in the winter wedding celebrations at Cougar Creek with her friend Ember sounded fantastic, until a grouchy bear shifter grabs her – a gorgeous male who rouses instincts in her that are startling and powerful, igniting a fierce need to growl and stake a claim on him. A gorgeous bear who might be her fated mate.

Can Holly resist the hungers Saint awakens in her? And when Saint realises his mistake about her identity, can he convince the stunning Holly to give him a second chance?

Purchase Links

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
iBooks USA | iBooks UK | iBooks Canada | iBooks Australia | iBooks New Zealand
Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play

Excerpt

Saint turned his frown on the snow that reached almost as high as the deck, had to be at least three feet deep where it had accumulated against the underside of his raised cabin. His gaze tracked across the undulating snow that stretched between him and the thick forest of lodgepole pines and spruces.

This was going to be one shitty walk.

Putting it off wasn’t going to make it any nicer though, or make his mood any better.

He wasn’t the only grouchy bear on the property either. He glanced to his right at Knox and Lowe, could see by their faces they were as pissed as he was by the disturbance. Having the three of them tired and grumpy would only make all of them worse in the long run, would bring out the bear in them and cause them to bicker and fight, destroying the peace they normally enjoyed. So as much as he despised the thought of dropping down into three feet of snow, he was going to have to do it.

Gods, he was glad Rune and Maverick had gone to Vancouver for winter as they always did, the two of them travelling to a bolthole they shared there. Neither of them was the sort of bear to sleep the months away, preferred to be awake through winter, but like him, they didn’t like snow. Saint had once made the mistake of convincing them to stay at Black Ridge for winter, had denied the urge to sleep so he could stay awake with them.

It hadn’t gone well.

They had made it to December before Rune and Maverick had gotten into a brawl so bad he had feared they would kill each other, and then all three of them had holed up in their individual cabins until the snowmelt. It had been the longest damned winter of Saint’s life. He hadn’t been able to sleep, had stayed awake to make sure Rune and Maverick made it to spring.

He scrubbed a hand over his beard, hoping like hell things didn’t end up that bad this time. If they couldn’t get back to sleep, ended up having to stay awake, then he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his cool and smooth the edge of his own mood to maintain order within their makeshift pride.

As it was, he was itching for a fight.

If Knox or Lowe tried to start anything, just looked at him the wrong way, he was liable to blow his top.

Knox kicked the snow off his deck, grumbling, “I’m tempted to go deal with whoever is making all that noise.”

“Rein it in, or I’ll be tempted to deal with you,” Lowe muttered as he finished pushing the last of the snow off his own deck, piling it up around the thick wooden pylons that raised the cabin off the ground.

It wasn’t like the usually laid-back Lowe to be grumpy. Normally, the ash-blond bear took things as they came, rolling with whatever life threw at him without worrying too much. Saint blamed Knox’s mood. It was his brother’s agitation that had Lowe on edge too.

Lowe always got like this whenever Knox was fired up, felt a need to weigh in and have his twin’s back.

“I’ll go see what the deal is.” Saint turned away from them and murmured under his breath, “Just got to get through this crap first.”

He huffed and took the first step down from his deck, forced himself to keep going when the next one was hidden by snow. His pride needed him to do something, and he would do it. He would make the cougars shut up so he and his kin could get back to sleep, and when he woke, all the snow would be gone.

He held on to that fantasy, filling his mind with images of green grass and warm sunshine as he trudged down the steps. It shattered as he fumbled for the final step and slipped, had to grab the railing behind him and brace himself to avoid falling on his backside.

Saint growled as he pushed away from the steps and waded through the deep snow, heading for the forest that would lead him to Cougar Creek. He glared at the field of white as it sparkled, the weak sunlight reflecting off it enough to almost blind him. As it was, it made his eyes water again, and that moisture felt as if it was turning to ice in his eyes.

There was nothing magical about winter.

He huffed and snarled as he pushed forwards, ploughing a path through the snow. At least he wouldn’t get as cold and damp on the way back, after he was done murdering whoever had woken him and his kin.

If he somehow managed to rein in the urge to spill blood, maybe the fresh air and struggling through the snow would tire him out enough that he could sleep when he got back to his cabin.

He finally reached the dense forest, where most of the snow clung to the branches of the pines and firs, keeping the amount on the ground down to less than a foot. He picked his way through the fresh snow, careful not to snag his boot on a root or rock because falling flat on his face in the snow would probably be the match that lit the fuse of his temper.

Saint breathed a little easier as he reached an animal track, a path through the forest that had been kept clear of snow by the constant back and forth of the local ungulates. His muscles began to relax, the tension that had stiffened them during the walk through the icy snow fading as he picked up pace.

When he neared the invisible boundary between Cougar Creek and Black Ridge, he slowed and fell silent, his breathing levelling out as he moved with stealth into the trees, veering off the track. His ears twitched as he listened, the only sound that of distant birdsong and animals moving through the trees. No laughter. No voices.

His breath fogged in the air as he slipped from tree to tree, peering ahead of him through the trunks and low branches and the scrub, seeking a sign of life as he drew closer to Cougar Creek. His palms began to sweat as his heart drummed a faster, harder rhythm against his ribs, as he honed his senses and searched for danger, in case it was hunters who had come to the cougar territory and they were the ones laughing.

Overjoyed by capturing or killing a shifter.

He spat on the ground, cursing the hunters. They had taken too many from his kin.

Had taken too much from him.

He had barely matured, had only just passed a century old when the mortal hunter organisation Archangel had executed a raid on a nearby underground fae town. His parents had been there, had tried to escape and hadn’t made it out alive.

Last year, a helicopter had circled over Black Ridge, heading back to Cougar Creek, and Saint had heard the distant gunfire. Part of him had wanted to go and check it out, to see if Rath needed help.

The rest, the alpha in him, had made him stay at Black Ridge in case there were more hunters in the forests and his pride needed him.

He tipped his head up and dragged in a slow, deep breath as he pushed those memories aside, focusing on the present in case it was hunters. He couldn’t let himself get swept up in the past, had to stay alert and aware of his surroundings and any danger that might be lying in wait for him.

Saint scented the air, trying to catch something that would tell him what to expect ahead of him.

He froze, locked up tight as he caught a scent, as warmth spread through him in response, roused a hunger in him that was powerful and commanding.

He dragged in another breath, aching for another delectable hit of that scent. And it was delectable, like sweet berries, and utterly feminine.

Which was enough to set him on edge.

Females didn’t stay at Cougar Creek in winter.

Saint veered off course again, unable to stop himself from tracking the scent through the forest, curiosity gripping him and filling him with a need to find the owner of it. His mouth watered, the hunger clenching his gut growing fiercer as the scent grew stronger. Ahead of him, the bushes and trees gave way to man-made clearings, openings in the forest where small cabins had been constructed.

He huffed.

Cougar Creek.

He stealthily inspected the two cabins he could see, keeping his distance from them. Snow had fallen through the canopy of the forest and was thick on their roofs, and it was pristine on the decks, untouched. No one was staying in them.

Saint banked left, heading down towards the river, to a cabin he knew was there. The raised L-shaped wooden lodge sat at the head of a fifty-foot clearing in the forest, one that stretched down to the creek.

He remained in the shadows of the trees as he moved towards that river, giving the place a wide berth. He eyed the deck and the steps and the ground just beyond them. Someone had cleared the snow away. The place belonged to one of the three brothers of Rath, the alpha of the pride, and it was usually empty over winter.

Looked as if the male was staying this time.

Was he responsible for the ruckus that had woken Saint and his kin?

He sharpened his instincts again and frowned as he sensed more than just Rath and one brother at the Creek. He pinpointed at least five other people, most of them close to the main clearing. One of them was bound to be the female Rath had mated with last year, one Saint had seen for himself a few times.

He thought her name was Ivy, was sure he had heard the alpha cougar call her that a few times when she had been photographing bears near the river. The female was human, and not the only one at the Creek either.

The bastard Storm had a human female of his own. Saint had caught her in the woods last year when she had been running from the male and had scared her witless. He regretted what had happened now, but he had been in a foul mood, his bear at the fore. Their run-in had happened only a week after the Archangel helicopter had come and the need to protect his kin had been strong, fierce enough that he had viewed her as a threat.

Saint had figured Gabi for a huntress, still thought she was a member of Archangel and one day Storm was going to wake up to find a blade in his heart.

He backtracked up to the two empty cabins and headed past them into another area of dense scrub that provided cover as he moved towards the heart of Cougar Creek.

His ears twitched.

Voices.

He eased lower and peered through the bushes and trees towards the clearing. Stilled as he spotted two males and a female in an area that had been cleared of snow near the top of the long sloping strip of green that formed the centre of the cougar’s territory. The felines had been busy. It looked as if they had cleared snow in a patch roughly sixty feet in all directions from the front of Rath’s cabin. That cabin sat nestled among the pines and spruces, its back to the forest that covered the base of the mountain, facing the clearing and the creek at the bottom of it.

What were they up to?

Rath straightened and planted the tip of his snow shovel against the ground, leaned on the handle of it as he pushed his thick black hat up and wiped his brow. He pulled his dark green scarf down and undid the top fastening of his black winter jacket.

“We taking a break now?” the male with him growled, a hint of warmth and teasing in his tone as he set down his own shovel and tugged at the blue scarf wrapped around his throat. Like Rath, he wore a black protective coat and matching hat, and irritatingly kept his back to Saint so he couldn’t make out which brother he was. “Only been at it an hour. Still a lot more snow to clear.”

Rath huffed and scrubbed a hand down his face, over a thick dark beard. “Remind me again why we’re doing this.”

The big male chuckled, the warmth in his voice lingering. “Love, apparently. Not sure why I got pulled into shovelling duties though. Storm should be here, clearing the way for this ceremony. Where is he anyway?”

This time, Rath was the one who chuckled, his grey eyes brightening with it. “Where do you think?”

The male shook his head. “I have half a mind to go bang down his door, but I don’t want to get an eyeful. Flint could at least have offered to help, but he’s about as useful as Storm.”

Flint and Storm weren’t present then, which meant the big male with Rath was Cobalt. Cobalt was a mad bastard. Saint had never seen a cougar fight like he did, as if he had nothing left to live for.

Rath and Cobalt were as big as each other, packed with muscle and good fighters, but if it came to a one-on-one fight, Saint could take them. Provided they didn’t resort to low blows like their brother Flint.

He shuddered at the memory, his balls aching. It had taken him weeks to heal them after the male had run his claws over them during a brawl. He still hadn’t forgiven the cougar, wanted a piece of him, and Storm, for the scars they had given him. A low growl curled up his throat, his blood running hot despite the cold, and he wanted to unleash it but bit it back instead. As much as he wanted a fight, he wanted to sleep more.

Besides, he couldn’t let his foul mood get him into a brawl right now when his body was still recovering from a month-long sleep. He would probably lose and that would only make his mood worse.

Saint drew down a steadying breath and stilled as the delicious scent of berries hit him again. It was weaker now, but still warmed him, roused a hunger to hunt the owner of that scent and see her for himself.

The door of the cabin behind Rath opened and a female came out, wrapped so heavily in winter clothing that he couldn’t make out much of her face between her colourful striped scarf and woollen hat, or her figure through the thick cream coat and brown ski pants.

He knew her scent though.

Ivy.

In fact, he knew most of the scents of the females belonging to the brothers. He had put Gabi’s scent to memory when he had captured her, and he had done the same with Yasmin’s when Flint had come to Black Ridge looking for a fight in order to impress her.

Maybe he had imagined the sweet scent in the woods.

Berries were his vice after all.

He loved them and found them impossible to resist.

“Come warm up for a few minutes.” She looked at her mate and then at Cobalt.

Both males nodded and let their shovels fall into the thin layer of snow, and Rath waited for Cobalt to reach him before they both started towards the cabin.

“Does Ember want to drop in for a warming drink too?” Ivy said with a look at Cobalt.

Ember. Saint wasn’t familiar with that female.

“She went for a walk.” Cobalt tugged his black hat off, revealing mussed blond hair. “But she’ll be back in time for the practice run.”

Rath glanced at his brother. “Did your certificate come through?”

“Yup. I’m officially ordained.” Cobalt flashed a grin at him and chuckled. “That’s not something I ever thought I would be. Not many cougars out there needing this sort of thing.”

Saint watched them go inside, debated going to the cabin and speaking to Rath, but fatigue was rolling up on him, his eyelids feeling heavy again as the fresh air lost its effect on him and his bear instincts growled at him to go back to sleep. He knew what the noise was now. It wasn’t humans or danger, just a bunch of irritating cougars celebrating something. That should be enough to calm the instinct to protect himself and his pride, and allow all of them to get back to sleep.

He rose to his feet and turned away from the cabin, picked his way to the animal track and followed it back towards the Ridge. Maybe he would fix himself some food before he hit the sack again, something to take the edge off his hunger and tide him over while he slept. He was clearly hungry.

Because he was fantasising about sweet juicy summer berries again.

Could smell them stronger now.

He frowned and slowed his pace, lifted his head and drew down a breath. The scent was stronger. His mouth watered, heat suffusing him, and he pivoted on his heel, was tracking the smell of berries before he realised what he was doing.

Saint dropped to his haunches when he spotted a lone figure ahead of him, near the frozen river.

A female.

He dragged down a breath, every inch of him locking up tight as he caught her scent.

Sweet berries and a hint of vanilla.

He scented something else on her too. She was cougar. Was she Ember? Did she belong to Cobalt?

Saint told himself to go, but found himself easing lower instead to observe her. Silent. A predator.

She tilted her head up as she turned, raised her gloved hand to cover her eyes as she peered at the canopy. Birds sang there but he paid them no heed, was too arrested by the sight of her.

Raven hair spilled from beneath her dark purple woollen hat, cascading over a form-fitting weatherproof coat in the same colour, and grey eyes with a strong hint of emerald sparkled as rosy lips curled into the semblance of a smile.

His heart started at a hard pace, drumming against his ribs as his blood heated.

She was beautiful.

A need to stand and go to her pounded inside him and he struggled to deny it, to remain where he was and merely observe her, studying everything about her. Like the fact she had to stand at least a foot shorter than his six-seven, and looked as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. There was a delicate sense of beauty about her, with her porcelain skin and the hint of pink on her cheeks, and he lost himself in watching her, the world around him fading away.

Until there was only her.

Her slender shoulders suddenly stiffened, her smile disappearing as she tensed and went still.

She had sensed him.

Saint lingered, wondering what she would do. Run away or stay?

Seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity as he waited, as her grey-green eyes slowly took in the forest.

Strange disappointment flooded him when she suddenly turned on her heel and walked in the direction of Cougar Creek, her pace brisk, boots chewing up the frozen ground beneath the pines.

Saint stared after her.

Driven to follow.

Purchase Links

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
iBooks USA | iBooks UK | iBooks Canada | iBooks Australia | iBooks New Zealand
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Books in the Series

Book 1: Stolen by her Bear
Book 2: Rescued by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 3: Saved by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 4: Unleashed by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 5: Awakened by her Bear – Pre-order Now

BLP REVIEW – Tracy

One of my favourite things about the first book in a new series by Ms Heaton is the world-building.

Getting to know the characters, the setting, a bit of their history (which will without doubt be developed further with each book in the series)

Stolen by her Bear was a great introduction to the bear shifters of Black Ridge, with the added interest of crossover threads from the Cougar Creek Mates and Eternal Mates books, another two read worthy series from Felicity.

We had met Saint previously in the Cougar Creek series but the impression we have of him from there to what and who he really is was quite different.

Though still not acceptable, the reasoning behind his earlier behaviour was understandable once you got a glimpse of his past.

Holly was a new character who is a cougar and friend of Ember (who we met in Craved by her Cougar).

I liked Holly, she was feisty, a lot different from the other cougars and doesn’t feel quite right in her own skin…. Until she meets Saint.

Starting with a case of mistaken identity and a kidnapping, through realising they are fated mates to issues that could keep them apart, Stolen by her Bear was a great read and I’m looking forward to book two in the series – we were briefly introduced to the heroine of Lowe’s book toward the end of SbhB.

A definite recommended read, especially for fans of shifter/PNR stories.

About Felicity
Felicity Heaton

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling London Vampires series. Seven sexy and sinful Greek god brothers can be your new addiction in the Guardians of Hades series. Or how about four hot alpha shifter brothers in her Cougar Creek Mates series? Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | YOUTUBE | INSTAGRAM

RELEASE BLITZ – The Grumpy Player Next Door (Copper Valley Fireballs #3) by Pippa Grant

RELEASE BLITZ

Title: The Grumpy Player Next Door
Series: Copper Valley Fireballs #3
Author: Pippa Grant

Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: July 8, 2021

BLURB

An enemies-to-lovers / sports / grumpy-sunshine / neighbor romance

I, Tillie Jean Rock, am not in love with my brother’s teammate. Sure, he might have those biceps and that “I am the grouchiest of grouchy bears” smolder, and he might shovel snow off his driveway next door wearing nothing but boxer shorts and rubber boots, and he might be running a side business feeding all the stray goats in town, but studliness is only skin-deep.

And I might flirt with him every chance I get, but I swear it’s only to annoy my brother.

And him.

Because Max Cole?

Under all of those glorious muscles and chiseled cheekbones and searing glares beats the heart of a heartless devil.

I could no sooner fall in love with a guy who treats me like a kid, and judges me at every opportunity, and sets an army of garden gnomes loose on my yard, than I could fall in love with my grandfather’s pet parrot.

But I can definitely annoy him. I can one hundred percent get on board with annoying him.

That’s what you do when you don’t like your neighbor, right?

But you know what they say about love and hate…

It’s a very thin line.

Especially when the real reason I’m not in love with Max Cole—that he’s incapable of love—might not be true at all.

The Grumpy Player Next door is a fun-filled enemies-to-lovers romcom featuring a ray of sunshine on a mission, an athlete who’s only grouchy around her, and an epic prank gone wrong. It stands alone and comes complete with small-town shenanigans, a goat who’s not nearly as wise as his name suggests, and proof that sometimes, love is the best kind of vengeance.


GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57489596-the-grumpy-player-next-door

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Also available in paperback: https://amzn.to/3dL77sW


EXCERPT

There’s a fine art to revenge, and today, I am arting the hell out of it. I’m talking cackles of glee, evil cartoon overlord-style, rubbing my hands together while bouncing on my toes. Reminding myself to shut up because my brother will be home from his morning workout any minute now, and I don’t want to tip my hand when he doesn’t know I’m waiting for him here in his house up on the mountainside.
You would think he would’ve learned to engage his security system more often by now.
But he hasn’t, which means I’m here, armed and dangerous and ready, and I’m cackling with glee all over again.
I know, I know. Is this really how you want to pay him back for having a box labeled “dildos” delivered to you at your parents’ house in the midst of all the pre-wedding activities for your other brother last week?
Yes, actually.
Yes, it is.
It’s payback time.
Also?
I have zero doubt Cooper will have mad respect that I’m doing this.
Sort of like while I was pissed when he replaced my coffee beans with roasted goat poop before he left for spring training nine months ago, I very much respected that he pulled it off, even if I wasn’t pleased at having to admit that that was the prank that took him over the top to win in our annual off-season prank war.
But this winter?
This winter, my brother Cooper “Stinky Booty” Rock is going down.
The universe told me so. Why else would it have hand-delivered that video into my social media stream to inspire me right after I finished figuring out where to donate an unopened box of dildos?
I cackle again.
And then I slap my hand over my mouth.
He’s home.
There’s his dark head, bent toward the knob, beyond the tempered glass panel beside his front door. He’s dressed in Fireballs red, which is more orange than it is red, and he’s probably worn out from lifting at the gym.
Yesterday was cardio day.
I know, because he ran past Crusty Nut, our dad’s restaurant where I’m the manager five days a week, at least two dozen times without stopping in once to say hi.
I haven’t seen him since the wedding several days ago, which either means he’s avoiding me and the revenge he knows I owe him, or he has a stick up his butt and has forgotten the little people.
Or, possibly, he’s distracted, in which case, he needs this.
I squat into position at the top of the stairs, as hidden as I can be while still seeing my target, Nerf blaster locked and loaded, waiting while he fumbles with his keys.
For the record?
It’s not easy to hide at the top of a curved staircase. I’m on my belly now, half-angled behind the wall of the hallway to his guest bedrooms, peering between the slats of the banister, hoping all my target practice pays off.
Steady, TJ. This is what you trained for.
The lock clicks.
I flatten myself lower and take aim.
The door swings open.
Dark hair in the foyer. Go go go.
I squeeze the trigger, sending a rapid blast of modified foam darts at the six balloons floating in the space above the door.
The needle sticking out barely an eighth of an inch in the tip of the first dart connects. One helium balloon pops. Then two more, followed by the fourth and fifth. The sixth shifts after getting hit, like it’s a tough guy balloon. It’s the ninja of balloons, and it doesn’t want to participate in my dastardly plans today, but that’s okay. The other balloons are bursting in a sparkly, shiny, beautiful pink glitter spray that’s splattering on the walls, exploding from its nylon shell and raining down like a spring shower, coating the walls, making the air sparkle, and dusting all that dark hair as Cooper’s lifting his head. “What the—”
And in the span of a heartbeat, before he can finish that sentence, I realize my mistake.
My terrible, horrible, very bad miscalculation.
If I were a superhero, I’d be sucking all that glitter into my lungs and redirecting it into my brother’s bedroom, which is likely what I should’ve done in the first place—hindsight, right?—but I didn’t. This was so much more dramatic and didn’t risk me having to find out which local he’s screwing around with in his spare time, as she’d be coated in glitter too after rolling around in his sheets, except my prank has failed.
It has failed spectacularly.
Oh my god,” I gasp.
That’s not Cooper.
That is so not Cooper.

ALSO AVAILABLE

#1 Jock Blocked

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AUDIO & PRINT

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#2 Real Fake Love

US: https://amzn.to/34IbeSI
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Free in Kindle Unlimited

AUDIO & PRINT

Audible: https://adbl.co/2YDtYiz
Amazon: https://amzn.to/31E5NT8
Apple Books: https://apple.co/36cgRIt
Paperback: https://amzn.to/3hJl4Ys


AUTHOR BIO

Pippa Grant is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down your leg. When she’s not reading, writing or sleeping, she’s being crowned employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.


AUTHOR LINKS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pippagrantromance
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ThePipsquad
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ReadPippa
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/pippagrant
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/pippa-grant
Website: http://www.pippagrant.com
Instagram: https://instagram.com/pippa.grant

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