From the Ground Up was Jennifer’s first published novel and now that she was bitten by the writing bug, has no intention of ever stopping. Jennifer makes her home in small town Iowa with her high school sweetheart, three beautiful, hilarious and amazing kids, one crazy Jack Russell terrier. This is where her love for all things reading, baking, and cooking happen. Jennifer’s family enjoys camping, boating, and spending time outside as much as possible. You’ll be her best friend if you can make her laugh and follow up with asking her what to read next. When she’s not writing, you can find her cheering the loudest at her kids’ sporting events (read as: embarrassing them), sipping coffee or iced tea out of a mason jar with her Kindle in her lap or binging on Netflix.
Today we are revealing some teasers for an upcoming standalone title from Marie Harte. SMOOTH MOVES releases May 28th, and you will not want to miss this series! Be sure to add the book to your TBR pile now and follow Marie for exclusive updates about the book and the Movin’ On series.
Ex-Marine Cash Griffith is a beacon for trouble. Working for the family moving company, he does his best to keep a low profile, but he can’t help finishing a fight someone else starts. There’s one person at work who annoys and baffles him. But if he even thought about taking her on, she’d put him down. Hard. Which is a real problem, because Cash wants nothing more than to tangle with sexy Jordan Fleming.
The ex-Army MP has her hands full with her new job and her rebellious teenage brother. Getting him through summer school is a chore. Figuring out what to do with her life now that she’s a civilian is disheartening. But one thing she lives for—doing battle with the obnoxious, arrogant, incredibly hot Marine at work.
Their battles turn into true camaraderie, then into something more. Helping each other out with family problems, Cash and Jordan learn to trust each other. One kiss leads to another, and friendship starts turning to love. But when dangerous secrets come to light, their bond will either break or strengthen into a future they both deserve.
Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit http://marieharte.com and fall in love.
Title: Shouldn’t Have You Series: Fractured Connections #2
Author: Carrie Ann Ryan
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 21, 2019
Blurb
I’ve been many things in my life: daughter,
friend, student, lover, wife…and now, widow. Getting past those labels and finding who I could be without them was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Then I became friends with Brendon Connolly.
Every time I look at him, I see a past, I see
a present, and I’m afraid if I look too hard, I’ll see a future.
~~~
I’ve known Harmony Wynham since before she got married. Before she lost everything. I didn’t know that one day she wouldn’t be just my friend but the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Only I don’t think that can happen.
Not when every time she looks at me, she sees
what she lost, and I can only see what I can’t overcome.
I love her, even though I shouldn’t. Somehow,
we need to find a balance.
Because if we don’t, walking away will be the
hardest thing I’ve ever done—even if it’s the only thing I should do.
Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary, paranormal, and young adult romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Fractured Connections, and Elements of Five series, which have sold over 3.0 million books worldwide. She
started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over seventy-five novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not losing herself in her emotional and action-packed worlds, she’s reading as much as she can while wrangling her clowder of cats who have more followers than she does.
And all are single, over the next year things are going to change.
If you read the Iron Orchids then you fell in love with the sassy heroines, strong friendships, and steamy romances. It’s time to meet the new girl gang- the Iron Badges.
Get a taste of each of these ladies’ personalities as they have a night to remember at an All Male Strip Show.
Then sit back, coming June fourth is Book 1 in the series – Book ’em Sadie.
I stared at myself in the mirror for what had to be the tenth time this morning, making sure that my pins were perfect and my shirt was pressed. The only things that weren’t sexy were the boots, but hey, I didn’t mind them since they were part of the standard uniform of all motorcycle deputies. Who would have ever guessed that I, Sadie Kathryn Lazar, would become a motorcycle deputy? I still got butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. I mean . . . why wouldn’t I? I was getting ready to roll out on two wheels of county-owned property, and it would be up to me so save the people of Orange County Florida from danger. Okay, more often than not I was saving them from their own stupidity and I wasn’t doing it alone, but whatever. There were other deputies and city police officers and state troopers, but I was part of that team. I was twenty-eight fucking years old, and even though I wasn’t a kid any longer, this was a lot of responsibility. A lot of pressure.
I grew up watching Cops with my daddy. I was all about bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do thanks to that show, and I never wavered from my career choice.
My ten-minute warning alarm signaled it was time for me to get my ass in gear. After sliding my gun into its holster, I grabbed my helmet and marched out of my small duplex. I opened the door to my tiny garage door, which was truly meant for storage and rolled out my motorcycle before reporting in to dispatch.
“Thirteen twenty-two, ten-eight.”
“Orange County copies. 05:57 hours.” Dispatch confirmed that I was logged in and on duty.
I fired the engine on my bike and then rolled back on the throttle. To many, the roar of the engine might as well have been a foreign language, but to me, it was my native tongue.
As the early morning sun warmed my cheeks and the wind whipped against me, I hummed and maneuvered through the rush hour traffic. It wasn’t even ten minutes after beginning my shift that my call signal rang out across the radio.
“Thirteen twenty-two.”
“Thirteen twenty-two, go ahead.”
“Are you available to support a search at Mills and Colonial?”
“Ten-four, show me fifty-one, be there in under five.” After letting dispatch know that I was on my way and less than five minutes out, I upped my speed, only slowing when I spotted the three deputy vehicles along a side road. “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked Colton. The guy had been on the force about as long as I had.
“Hey, Sadie, this is one of those stories that is totally Cops worthy.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“It seems that Wanda”—he pointed to a tall woman in gold stilettos and a catsuit (the pleather kind, not the furry kind)—“and her best friend Pammy are no longer best friends.”
“Why?” I asked with all the fake concern I could muster, and Colton nodded with his own fake concern for their friendship.
“Wanda believes that Pammy stole her client.”
“Well, that isn’t a very best friend like thing to do, is it?” “Nope. Not at all.” Colton was clearly trying to keep himself from laughing.
“Apparently, his name is John, and he’s a very loyal . . . client.” Colton raised an eyebrow.
“It’s six o’clock in the fucking morning. If that doesn’t say loyal, I don’t know what does. So, why the sudden change of heart from our friend John the Client?”
“Oh.” Colton finally lost it and let out a chuckle. “I’ll let them tell you. I don’t want to deprive you of any of the joy.” Colton gave me a knowing grin and I shook my head as I flipped him off and made my way over to the two women.
I walked over. “Oh, good, missy, you need to arrest her. She’s a thief.”
“I ain’t no thief, I’m a hooker.” I looked over my shoulder to Colton, who had moved to stand with Dan and Enzo. All three were watching me with bored expressions. I knew better, and would pay each one of them back for this nonsense. Three male deputies, and they called me.
“Ladies, since the dispute has to do with business, this is actually a civil case and not criminal. You need to get an attorney and sue through the courts. Perhaps you can even try to get loss of income.” Yeah, I said that last part with a straight face, looking for all the world to be nothing more than a helpful officer handing out helpful advice.
“Wanda, I ain’t taking no Johns from you,” Pammy said. “I’m gonna be truthful, okay? I stole some of your Oxys. But, girl, you got so many from that guy you blew, you didn’t even miss none.”
I wanted to groan. Fuck, I needed to do a search.
“Okay, ladies,” I said as I pulled out black plastic gloves. “I’m going to need you to step away from each other. If you could please face the car.” “What you doing, bitch? You ain’t arresting her, she’s my best friend.” Wanda, who just seconds ago was claiming that they were no longer friends, looked ready to fight for said friendship.
About the Author
Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James, who won’t stop calling her or asking her out.
And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50-something mom with grown kids. She’s been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and she now gets her kicks riding a Harley.
As far as her body, she can thank Ben & Jerry’s for that, as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.
Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly, silly men).
They were supposed to be together forever. That was the plan, but through a cruel twist of fate the night before their three-year anniversary, Tex Davis lost the one man he would ever love, Memphis King. A year has passed and he still hasn’t been able to move on. Everyone tells him it’s time, but what do they know? Memphis was his partner in love and life. Losing him, broke Tex.
Tex has been given an opportunity to move from New York to Seattle. His friends and family are encouraging him to take it, but he has already decided to decline the offer because that would mean leaving Memphis behind.
Then something happened.
Whether it be fate or something else, Memphis came back to him. Tex’s first love is supposed to help him move on, but not even Memphis can bring himself to force Tex to let him go.
Is it so wrong to want to spend forever with the person you loved most? Both hearts are begging to be unbroken.
1 –
One year. One year since Tex had lost Memphis. One year since his lover had been killed, and it had yet to get easier. Everyone kept telling him it would, it never did. There were times he thought about ending it all, and then he would feel something…hear something, making him change his mind.
Actually, sometimes he thought he was losing it.
And today, he called in sick to work, unable to get out of bed until this afternoon. When he finally emerged, he only relocated to the living room after grabbing a full bottle of Southern Comfort, plopping down on the sofa. The very sofa he and Memphis picked out together. It had been their first major furniture decision when they decided to move in together. The moment the delivery men left, Tex and Memphis broke it in thoroughly, wearing themselves out.
Tex’s eyes looked around the room. It seemed so empty without Memphis, and he felt so lost without his lover. He’d been sitting here for hours? Minutes? It had to be some amount of time since the bottle was half gone and he was feeling a drunken morose engulfing him, and he could not stop the bitter question from leaving his lips, the very question he had been asking daily since losing his best friend, lover, other half…his everything. “Why? Why Memphis? Why did you have to go? Why did it have to be you and not me?”
Shaking his head, Tex sniffled and brought his glass filled with amber liquid to his lips. “When you left, it completely broke my heart…I’m still broken. I need to hear you say that you love me one more time. A million more times, but that won’t happen. Can’t happen.” He took another gulp, draining the glass before wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
Pouring himself another glassful of liquor, he breathed out as drops of saltwater fell on his coffee table. He should probably stop drinking and put himself to bed to finish wallowing there, but he couldn’t. It had been one year. One year since that fateful night…unlucky night more like it. One year since he’d heard Memphis’s voice, touched his body, and the loss Tex felt that night remained just as acute tonight as it did then. He thought time was supposed to heal the wounds, to lessen the pain…lies. All lies. “It’s my fault, Memphis. If I hadn’t been spiteful and allowed that monstrous bitch, jealousy, to cloud my judgment…if only. If only. I regretted everything, regretted that the last words I spoke to you were bitter and vile. I can’t forget you, can’t move on. I’m lonely without you, Memphis. It hurts so much that you aren’t here.” He wailed like a banshee, his cry full of sorrow and pain.
More tears were falling, but he ignored them like he’d done every time they sprang up. It was easy to do after all this time; besides, they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any longer and hadn’t for a year.
He sobbed again and then got angry. “I wish you could come back to fix me, fix what you destroyed when you left, but that’s a pipe dream. You got mad, said your piece, and then stormed out of here. If you had just waited…” Tex choked on his words.
“You went the other way. Why? Why the other way? Was it because of the bar? The one where we met? Memphis, do you remember? I was sitting at the bar and you walked up to me and gave me that stupid, cheesy pickup line, ‘I seem to have lost my phone number, can I have yours?’ So stupid. I remember I said, ‘That’s a shame because I lost mine too. I guess we’re both screwed.’ You winked at me then. I should have known something bad was going to come out of your mouth…sexy mouth.
‘Not yet, but we could be.’ I laughed. You were always good at making me laugh, making me smile.” Shaking his head and snickering, he poured another glass. If he destroyed his liver, if he got alcohol poisoning, then maybe he could be with Memphis again.
Tex downed the entire glass, hoping that the pain would deaden or that he would stop feeling anything. Maybe if he drank enough, he could join Memphis.
Grabbing a pillow from the couch, Tex threw it across the room, and it bounced off the window overlooking the streets of Manhattan. “You were supposed to go right! You were supposed to go to Christy’s apartment!” He wailed, “Why weren’t you at your sister’s? Why did you have to go the other way? She looked horrible because she had been sick, even her blue hair looked green.” Tex snorted mirthlessly.
It’s been a year and Tex floated through life, unable to move on. “I know I should continue to live for us…for you, but I don’t know how,” Tex’s words ended on a shout, full of rage, and his face was red from more than just the alcohol.
“There has always only been you. You got me when no one else did. You loved me…I loved you. Three years. We were together one night shy of three years. We never got to see four.” Tex fell back and stared up at the blue ceiling with white fluffy clouds painted on it, his tears falling down his face like two rivers. There was no point in wiping them away because there was no end to them, and he couldn’t staunch them even if he tried. Memphis was gone and would forever remain gone.
He chugged the rest of the amber liquid from the bottle and fell to his side onto the couch, resting his head on the cushion. More tears fell. They never stopped. Even if they weren’t falling down his face, his soul cried and mourned the loss of his friend and lover. The pain hadn’t stopped since the day he lost Memphis.
Sitting up, Tex grabbed the bottle of Southern Comfort and raised it into the air, choosing to do away with the glass. “A toast to you and your lost life. Memphis, I still love you, and I wish every single god damned day that you were still here beside me. Each day that passes reminds me that you will never be part of my life again, that you will never hold me, never tease me again. You were funny, caring, sexy, and all mine. Forgive me…God, please forgive me for that night, for accusing you of cheating. I know you loved me. Jealousy is a fucking bitch. Somehow, I’d gotten it into my head that you were leaving me when you weren’t. I found out after. Sometimes I think I killed you. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.” He whimpered as he took in a shaky breath. “Memphis, I will always love you and only you.”
I wish you were here to fix the heart you broke when you died, Memphis, Tex thought to himself as he closed his eyes. Before he fully submitted to the effects of the alcohol though, he felt a set of lips press against his. “Memphis, love…” he slurred, his words tapering off as he finally allowed himself to completely fall into the void.
Fingers running through his short brown curls and the heaviness of someone sitting next to him had Tex leaning into the touch and smiling. “Memphis, I’m trying to sleep,” he argued, pretending not to like the feel of his lover soothing him.
Reality hit a split second later.
Tex’s eyes popped open, but all he saw was the blackness of his blanket because when he slept, he liked to bury himself and only the top of his head could be seen. Pushing it down and away from him, he twisted his head this way and that, trying to figure out why it felt as if someone was playing with his hair when the apartment should have been completely empty save for him. Events from the previous night filtered into his brain, and he shook his head, still scanning the room.
Another thought occurred to him. He was so focused on if it could be Memphis, there was a more logical explanation–thanks to Christy and Wil for planting the idea in his head. Spider! He panicked and grabbed his head, trying to dislodge the bug if it existed, but he found nothing. Instead, much like the night before, he fell off the bed onto the floor, this time hitting his hard head with a loud thud.
“It wasn’t a spider,” Memphis told him, although watching Tex scramble as he did, had been funny as hell. He didn’t know what happened earlier, one minute he had been here in this apartment with Tex, and the next, nothing…blackness. Nothing scary or oppressive, just a void. Some might call it purgatory, but he didn’t think so because if that was the case, why was he allowed to leave and come back to his Tex?
Head snapping up, Tex tried to find the source of the voice, and this time he did, a little easier than last time. With the curtains drawn and the sun beginning to set, the room was dimly lit, and on the bed, on Memphis’s side of the bed, was a…something. Tex wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. It wasn’t a figure, but it wasn’t exactly nothing either. A mist? No. Smoke? Not really. Shadow? Sort of. It was just there.
“Me-Mem…Memphis?” Tex asked hesitantly. His heart was beating wildly and he was on the verge of hyperventilating as his eyes widened, waiting in anticipation for the answer he would receive. And he didn’t know which way he wanted the…thing to answer. If positive, Tex might be crazy. If negative–in a way–it would be like losing Memphis again. Fuck, he was a wishy-washy asshole!
“Do you remember the night we met? I think I might have told you, but I don’t remember, but the reason I approached you was that I didn’t want Jordan to have you,” Memphis told Tex as if this whole situation was completely normal.
Tex gaped at the bed. The thing sort of had a form, but not really, and while it seemed Memphis voice came from it, it didn’t mean that it was Memphis. “Jordan? What do you mean?” He recalled something about Jordan and that night, but he couldn’t think right now because even if it wasn’t actually Memphis speaking to him, it was his voice. Tex couldn’t stop himself from asking while he tried to decide if he should scream and run for his life to admit himself into the nearest psych ward, or if he should rejoice because his lover had finally come back to him.
“We played pool to decide who would approach you that night. I lost, and when he went to the bathroom to piss out the five beers he drank, I made my move. It was a toss-up if we would remain friends, or if he would punch me in the nuts and never speak to me again.”
“No guy would ever punch another one in the sack.” Tex still wasn’t sure, although, that did sound like something Memphis would say, and definitely something Jordan would threaten if he was pissed off.
Memphis chuckled. “You do remember Jordan, right?”
Jordan Cash came to New Orleans to have fun with his latest fling, however, within twenty-four hours of arriving, he’s been abandoned and finds himself wandering around the city doing the tourist thing alone. Everyone is finding someone to love, but that’s not in the cards for him. He’ll spend his days cheering on his friends and having the time of his life.
He never expected to run into a man who immediately catches his attention in the middle of a graveyard. Did the Voodoo Queen put a spell on him from the beyond?
***
To say that Archer Wolfe is directionally challenged is the understatement of the year. He broke his cellphone and can get lost in the very city he lives in. It’s no surprise he gets turned around, and while trying to find his way, he pushes Jordan into a stone crypt. Not the best way to make a first impression.
Archer isn’t looking for love or anything else, but there is something about the smooth-talking Jordan. It was supposed to be a fling, simply some fun, but he is realizing he doesn’t want Jordan to disappear.
***
Once you’ve found someone who calls to your soul, how do you let go?
Maria Vickers currently lives in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing and after she became disabled in 2010, she decided to use writing as her escape. She believes that life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.
From a young age, she has always loved books and even dreamed of being an author when she was younger. Growing up in the Navy, she used to weave tales for her siblings and her friends about anything and everything. And when she wasn’t creating her own stories, she had a book in her hand. They transported her to another world. She hopes that with her books, her readers have the same experience and that they can relate to her characters.
Getting sick changed her life forever, but it also opened doors for her that she thought would always be out of reach.
One day she will rule, but first she must be broken.Locked away in her tower, Princess Aya spent years hiding from the truth as her people suffered terribly under her uncle’s tyrannical reign. Now she will pay the shameful price for her silence…
Awakened by the cries of the oppressed, Kazriel will not rest until things are made right. But putting Aya on the throne is only the beginning. Before he allows her to rule, the princess must be stripped bare and mastered so thoroughly she will never forget how it feels to be powerless.
Naked, bound, and at his mercy, she will scream and beg as her helpless, quivering body is put on display and tormented with pain and pleasure, then claimed so publicly she may never stop blushing. She is not just going to be humbled, punished, and ravaged. She is going to be broken.
Publisher’s Note: Broken Princess includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Prologue
GUILTY
The word tolled from a thousand throats like a bell. It resonated through Aya’s tender frame, her silky soft skin turning to a myriad of bumps of fear as the energy of those voices passed over and through her.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling fingers clasping at the fine silk of her gown. Those who denounced her wore scraps of cloth and threadbare cloaks of wool, but their voices were clear, and they rang with truth.
GUILTY
The word was intoned with a collective gravity which chilled the princess to her core. They did not shriek the words. They barely shouted them. She would rather have faced a screaming mob than this civilian intensity which sunk into her bones and made her wish she could curl up on herself and simply disappear.
“I didn’t know!” She tried to argue, her soft voice carried away by the wind. “I couldn’t have known…”
GUILTY
Three times the pronouncement rang out from the mouths of the people. Her fate was sealed. The word shot into her heart and made it pound with abject fear. She could not be guilty. A princess could never be guilty, not ever. A princess was above the law.
The gaze of the peasants was shameful enough, but it was the least of her concerns. She felt a much more powerful stare on her. Celestial green eyes swept over her and it was as if she was entirely naked though she remained clothed. The people were common, but he was not. He was more than royal. He was the one creature in all the world who could be said to rule over a princess. More than a king.
She looked into the eyes of Kazriel and met a gaze which was not meant to be incarnate. He did not merely see the surface of her. He saw everything. Every thought. Every hope. Every desire. Her mind rebelled at finding itself prematurely laid bare. Perhaps after death she might have found herself judged, but there had never been any indication that a wayward princess like pretty Aya might find herself called to answer before the guardian of justice.
“I didn’t know…”
Her voice was as soft as her excuse was weak.
“You knew.”
His voice was deep, and not unkind. He spoke with the voice of the world, with the grinding of stones and the growing of trees. His voice was not merely sound, it was a resonance which touched every part of her and made her tremble with the guilt she had long denied and now could not.
“I had no choice…”
Again she tried to argue her way out of what was to come. She could not have known what the guardian had in store for her, but she sensed that it would be enough to make amends – and there were so very many amends to be made. She cowered in fear of the consequences as much as at the great beast of a god who stood before her, taller, broader, stronger, perfectly masculine in the carved planes of his body, human ideal made flesh.
He reached out. She flinched away. His touch would not bring comfort. She knew what she deserved. She knew what he would do to her. She knew that the fine garments protecting her from the eyes surrounding her would not remain intact much longer. She knew shame awaited, a shame she might never recover from.
But this was not her fault. She had only been trying to do what everyone else was trying to do: survive.
Perhaps she had been doing it differently from those who now stood in collective judgement of her, but that was an accident of birth. She had no more chosen to be a princess than any of the commoners around her had decided to be peasants. Why didn’t this creature who held her prisoner understand that?
She had begged for this chance to plead her case to the people, so certain that they would pardon her. But there was no pardon on their lips, and there was no mercy in their gazes. She would take the punishment. All of it. And they would be witness to it, from the scribes who would write this into the history books, to the common men who would tell the story to their sons so it may be told to all sons thereafter.
Princess Aya swallowed the lump in her throat and faced her destiny.
“Very well,” she murmured, a touch more rebellion than was wise entering her tone. “Do your worst.”
A soft chuckle escaped Kazriel. “My worst? Princess, you would not survive a fraction of my worst.”
She clamped her lips together and did not reply, but her look said everything. She had survived more than he could imagine, and she could take more than the guardian could inflict. It was a curse even he could not lift.
It was beginning.
Harsh ropes wrapped around her wrists and drew them high above her head, making her body stretch before the crowds. They would see through the sheer of her robe. They would make out the curve of her body, the lines of her most intimate places.
She heard the sound of hundreds of people looking at her, an intense, focused silence which made her every hair prickle at attention.
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. He was so tall, powerful beyond compare. She reacted to him on a visceral level. He called to more than her flesh. He called to her soul.
“Guilty,” he said, his hand running up the inside of her thighs, his fingers moments away from making contact with the virginal core of her.
“Do you repent, princess?”
Aya turned her eyes on him. She was so small in comparison. So weak. Her brown gaze was of earth, unlike his eyes which were iridescent with power. She could have said so many things in that moment. She could have apologized. She could have begged for forgiveness. She could have declared herself reformed. Instead, she took refuge in the haughtiness of her station and stared down the deity she had been worshipping since she was forced into the world by birth.
“I repent nothing.”
It’s just as well Loki Renard became an author because other career paths proved disastrous. She was once thrown out of someone’s house for trying to sell them citrus based cleaning product, and her brief brush with corporate life ended when she wrote profiles for her fellow employees likening them to various feral animals then attempted to negotiate the idea of not coming into the office and getting paid anyway. Perhaps if she’d had the dedication to slug herself in the face a la Fight Club, things might have turned out differently.
From New York Times bestselling author Jay Crownover comes UNBROKEN, the prequel novella in her brand new Loveless, Texas series! Check out the amazing excerpt below, and grab your copy today!
About UNBROKEN:
From the New York Times bestselling author of the Marked Men series comes a captivating novella about a rugged rodeo star who will do anything to protect the people he loves.
When rodeo star Crew Lawton loses everything in a bad bet, he has no choice but to take a new job to pay off his debts – even if it means becoming the face of an expensive male skincare line. Crew is used to getting sweaty and rustling in the dirt, not posing for photo shoots. And he’s certainly not used to being bossed around by a woman who doesn’t even know the difference between bulls and broncs. But Crew owes money to dangerous criminals, and he’ll do anything Della says in order to pay them back and keep them far away from his family in Loveless, Texas…
The launch of her new men’s line for her family’s company means everything to Della Deveaux, and she’s not willing to let some rugged, arrogant cowboy ruin her campaign. Crew Lawton is the last man she would have chosen to represent her chic, sophisticated brand. Unfortunately, her father already invested millions in Crew’s stupidly handsome face. Yet the more time they spend together, Della and Crew realize that opposites do attract. But when the time comes for Crew to face his past mistakes, will he be able to protect his family…and the woman he’s come to love?
“This the one, Ms. Priss?” I turned in a circle, hating how restrictive and stiff the refined suit felt. There would be no staying on the horse for eight seconds in something like this. I doubted I could even bend over and pull my boots on in this getup. I failed to see how being dressed like I was going to high tea with the queen was going to convince normal men with a little extra cash to buy the junk in my hair. It felt like overkill, but I would chew my tongue off before telling Della that. I knew how much this campaign meant to her, and I needed her to keep me around so I could get paid. .. and get to kiss her again.
Della circled around me, eyes scanning from head to toe. A small frown tugged her perfectly arched brows down into a V, and her lush, soft mouth pulled into a pout I was becoming achingly familiar with. She lifted a hand and touched the knot of the silk tie where it rested at the base of my throat. She fingered the delicate material and heaved a sigh.
“You look perfect, but something is still off.” She met my gaze with a scowl. “Can you try and look a little less like you’re being tortured? That might help the overall image.”
Her snippy tone and the upturn of her nose made me grin. I rolled my head around, causing my neck to pop and my shoulders to relax. Della’s expression softened when I was no longer standing at attention, but she still let out a dejected-sounding sigh and reached for my tie, releasing me from the expensive noose.
“You have a body made for designer clothes, but something is lost when you put them on. I feel like we’re trying to wrap the Mona Lisa in silk or something. Frankly, it’s annoying that you make denim and flannel look just as good as Versace and Prada.” Once she had the tie off, she told me to go ahead and get back into my own clothes. I asked her what the plan was for the shoot and a brief flare of panic and doubt lit up her catlike eyes. She forced a smile and told me she would figure it out.
Since I was totally a fish out of water in this scenario, all I could do was follow orders like a good soldier. I stripped out of the fitted vest and worked on the tiny buttons of the shirt. I was handing them both off to the flirty wardrobe girl who was enjoying the impromptu striptease when Della’s “Wait a second!” had both of us freezing on the spot.
She was looking at me in the mirror, eyes roving over my half-dressed form. She wandered over to where my jeans and boots were tossed in a haphazard pile on the floor. After a second of rooting around, she came toward me, my black wifebeater in one hand and my boots in the other.
“Put these on with the pants.” She looked at the wardrobe girl with a lifted brow and had to snap her fingers in the woman’s face to get her attention. “Go find me a pair of suspenders, leather if you have them.” The other woman scurried off to do as she was told and I dropped to the seat to pull on my boots.
“I keep trying to turn you into something better.” I looked up at Della as she snorted out a laugh. “But from the start, you were perfect the way you are.”
Be sure to pre-order JUSTIFIED, the first novel in this brand new, sexy series!
About JUSTIFIED:
The New York Times bestselling author of the Marked Men series delivers a romance about a rugged Texas sheriff who must protect the woman who was once his sworn enemy…
Case Lawton comes from a family of criminals. So as the sheriff of Loveless, Texas, he’s determined to do everything by the book–until he’s called to Aspen Barlow’s office after a so-called break-in. The last thing he wants to do is help the woman who cost him custody of his son. But Aspen isn’t the heartless lawyer Case remembers, and he starts to question his long-held grudge…
Aspen is scared for her life, and Case is her last hope for protection. But to get him on her side, she’ll have to reveal the painful truth from all those years ago. Now, as they work together to track down a dangerous criminal, Case and Aspen learn to trust each other. And as the threats escalate, it becomes clear there’s a thin line between love and hate… because there’s nothing Case wouldn’t do to keep her safe.
Jay Crownover is the international and multiple New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men series, the Saints of Denver series, the Point series, the Breaking Point series, the Getaway series, and the Loveless, Texas series. Her books can be found translated in many different languages all around the world. She is a tattooed, crazy haired Colorado native who lives at the base of the Rockies with her awesome dogs. This is where she can frequently be found enjoying a cold beer and Taco Tuesdays. Jay is a self-declared music snob and outspoken book lover who is always looking for her next adventure, between the pages and on the road.
And all are single, over the next year things are going to change.
If you read the Iron Orchids then you fell in love with the sassy heroines, strong friendships, and steamy romances. It’s time to meet the new girl gang- the Iron Badges.
Get a taste of each of these ladies’ personalities as they have a night to remember at an All Male Strip Show.
Then sit back, coming June fourth is Book 1 in the series- Book ’em Sadie.
Excerpt:
Damn, I made this shit look good.
I stared at myself in the mirror for what had to be the tenth time this morning, making sure that my pins were perfect and my shirt was pressed. The only things that weren’t sexy were the boots, but hey, I didn’t mind them since they were part of the standard uniform of all motorcycle deputies. Who would have ever guessed that I, Sadie Kathryn Lazar, would become a motorcycle deputy? I still got butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. I mean . . . why wouldn’t I? I was getting ready to roll out on two wheels of county-owned property, and it would be up to me so save the people of Orange County Florida from danger. Okay, more often than not I was saving them from their own stupidity and I wasn’t doing it alone, but whatever. There were other deputies and city police officers and state troopers, but I was part of that team. I was twenty-eight fucking years old, and even though I wasn’t a kid any longer, this was a lot of responsibility. A lot of pressure.
I grew up watching Cops with my daddy. I was all about bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do thanks to that show, and I never wavered from my career choice.
My ten-minute warning alarm signaled it was time for me to get my ass in gear. After sliding my gun into its holster, I grabbed my helmet and marched out of my small duplex. I opened the door to my tiny garage door, which was truly meant for storage and rolled out my motorcycle before reporting in to dispatch.
“Thirteen twenty-two, ten-eight.”
“Orange County copies. 05:57 hours.” Dispatch confirmed that I was logged in and on duty.
I fired the engine on my bike and then rolled back on the throttle. To many, the roar of the engine might as well have been a foreign language, but to me, it was my native tongue.
As the early morning sun warmed my cheeks and the wind whipped against me, I hummed and maneuvered through the rush hour traffic. It wasn’t even ten minutes after beginning my shift that my call signal rang out across the radio.
“Thirteen twenty-two.”
“Thirteen twenty-two, go ahead.”
“Are you available to support a search at Mills and Colonial?”
“Ten-four, show me fifty-one, be there in under five.” After letting dispatch know that I was on my way and less than five minutes out, I upped my speed, only slowing when I spotted the three deputy vehicles along a side road. “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked Colton. The guy had been on the force about as long as I had.
“Hey, Sadie, this is one of those stories that is totally Cops worthy.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“It seems that Wanda”—he pointed to a tall woman in gold stilettos and a catsuit (the pleather kind, not the furry kind)—“and her best friend Pammy are no longer best friends.”
“Why?” I asked with all the fake concern I could muster, and Colton nodded with his own fake concern for their friendship.
“Wanda believes that Pammy stole her client.”
“Well, that isn’t a very best friend like thing to do, is it?”
“Nope. Not at all.” Colton was clearly trying to keep himself from laughing.
“Apparently, his name is John, and he’s a very loyal . . . client.” Colton raised an eyebrow.
“It’s six o’clock in the fucking morning. If that doesn’t say loyal, I don’t know what does. So, why the sudden change of heart from our friend John the Client?”
“Oh.” Colton finally lost it and let out a chuckle. “I’ll let them tell you. I don’t want to deprive you of any of the joy.” Colton gave me a knowing grin and I shook my head as I flipped him off and made my way over to the two women.
I walked over. “Oh, good, missy, you need to arrest her. She’s a thief.”
“I ain’t no thief, I’m a hooker.” I looked over my shoulder to Colton, who had moved to stand with Dan and Enzo. All three were watching me with bored expressions. I knew better, and would pay each one of them back for this nonsense. Three male deputies, and they called me.
“Ladies, since the dispute has to do with business, this is actually a civil case and not criminal. You need to get an attorney and sue through the courts. Perhaps you can even try to get loss of income.” Yeah, I said that last part with a straight face, looking for all the world to be nothing more than a helpful officer handing out helpful advice.
“Wanda, I ain’t taking no Johns from you,” Pammy said. “I’m gonna be truthful, okay? I stole some of your Oxys. But, girl, you got so many from that guy you blew, you didn’t even miss none.”
I wanted to groan. Fuck, I needed to do a search.
“Okay, ladies,” I said as I pulled out black plastic gloves. “I’m going to need you to step away from each other. If you could please face the car.”
“What you doing, bitch? You ain’t arresting her, she’s my best friend.” Wanda, who just seconds ago was claiming that they were no longer friends, looked ready to fight for said friendship.
About the Author
Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James, who won’t stop calling her or asking her out.
And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50-something mom with grown kids. She’s been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and she now gets her kicks riding a Harley.
As far as her body, she can thank Ben & Jerry’s for that, as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.
Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly, silly men).
Undeniable, an all-new stand-alone sexy second chance romance from USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow, is coming May 20th and we have the gorgeous cover!
When we were eleven, Oliver Ford Pemberton dared me to jump off a barn roof. He said you couldn’t break a leg from a 12-foot-jump.
He lied.
(You can also break a collarbone, which served him right as far as I was concerned.)
I wish I could say it was the last dare I ever took from him, the last bet I ever made with him, the last time I ever trusted Oliver Ford Pemberton.
But it wasn’t.
Because he had the nerve to grow up gorgeous, charming, and sexy. And as we got older, the dares only got dirtier—and the betting stakes higher—until finally, he left me in pieces. I swore I’d never talk to him again.
But twenty years after I took that flying leap, he’s back in my life, daring me to risk everything for him: my job, my self-worth, and my heart.
Publication Date: May 20, 2019 Genre: Contemporary Romance Photographer: Regina Wamba Cover Designer: Hang Le
About the Author
Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, Succession, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the ONE & ONLY series, the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.
Shelli Adler has known what she wanted since she was eleven years old.
Aiden Brooks.
But Aiden has always had other ideas. After spending the early years of his life without his dad, hockey legend Lucas Brooks, Aiden is determined not to settle for anything less than true love. When he’s ready. Now he’s living the fast life of an NHL bachelor. He won’t give his heart to any one girl, but they can have his body—all night long.
The party to celebrate the start of the second half of the season was supposed to be no different from any other night. And when a stunning stranger approaches him, he can’t seem to keep his hands off her.
The next morning, she’s gone, and he’s been traded to his dad’s former team, the Nashville Assassins. All of his professional dreams are coming true, but he can’t shake the memory of the girl from that last party. He wants to see her again. Though, after moving across the country—and without knowing her name—that dream seems like a puck destined to miss the net.
For Shelli, her night with Aiden was everything she’d ever imagined it could be, and she’s sure it is all about to change for them. But for that to happen…he would have to know who she was.
The Dump was only the beginning. The Chase is worth waiting a lifetime for.
About the Author:
My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?
About the Author:
