Category Archives: Excerpt

BLOG TOUR ~ Heart Stronger by Rachel Blaufeld

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“So exquisitely titillating, full of hope and second chances, and so honest,
this is Rachel Blaufeld’s best and swooniest romance yet! I LOVED it!”

Katy Evans, New York Times Bestselling Author

Heart Stronger, an all-new emotional romance from Rachel Blaufeld is available now!

HeartStronger Full


“Sometimes, I feel like I’m watching a movie . . . that it’s not really me, Claire Richards, getting this second chance at life.”

“Open your eyes, it’s you, and I’m damn glad it’s with me.” ~ Aiken

Single mom and college professor Claire Richards only wanted a few hours of me time to soak in her tub, read a book, and drink wine.

But tragedy struck, and Claire found herself with a lot more me time than she bargained for.

Three years later, Claire is still mourning her losses when Aiken Fordham—who looks young enough to be one of her college students—moves in next door.

Forcing Claire to face her fears, Aiken almost forgets his reason for moving to Small Town, Pennsylvania. Falling for the sexy, smart, and strong professor next door was never in the plan.

But now it is . . . until their future intersects with their pasts.


Excerpt

The downpour stopped just as I did, soaked in rain and sweat. Rolling my neck, I took in my house. It was cute. Too cute for a single dude, but it was all fixed up, and I wasn’t in the mood for a renovation project.

I bent over to stretch, touching my toes, and before I could stand up, Smitty was at my feet, tail wagging, tongue lolling, begging to be petted.

“Smitty!” Claire came running out her front door, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing tight black pants and a fitted green blouse. No shoes. She stopped in front of me, and I noticed her pink toes and tanned feet.

“Smitty, bad boy! You can’t leave the house.” She grabbed his collar and tugged him to her side.

“S’okay.” Wetness seeped into my eyes, and I swatted it away, making the burn worse. Squinting and blinking, I remained focused on the woman in front of me, and all woman she was. There wasn’t one girlish thing about my neighbor, and no—before you think it—I didn’t have mommy issues.

I had lean-muscular-legs and pouty-lips issues, both of which Claire had in earnest. Not to mention, I had a separate thing for independence after growing up around all these farming wives, who basically did all the heavy lifting for none of the credit. Then there was my dad, unable to move on, the epitome of lost.

“Don’t say that. He can’t be running out of the house.” Her breath was short at this point; she was almost panting. “He’s all I have.” It was a whisper of a sentence, but I heard it. Fuck it, I felt it. I got pain. Hated anyone else having to experience it.

She was eaten up with pain, but kept her head up—I could tell. I wanted to crack her veneers, let the pain ooze out, and see her smile in earnest.

Deep shit for a young guy, but I’d grown up fast. Like in the last forty-eight hours.

“I put my hand out to feel if it was still raining, and he bolted as soon as he saw you,” she continued to explain.

“Like I said, I’m cool with Smitty, but I get it. He can’t be escaping.”

“Thanks for understanding.” She stood, prim and proper, her gaze heavy on the concrete, clearly avoiding any direct eye contact.

“You okay, Claire? I’m sorry about last night.”

“I’m fine.” She turned back toward her house.

“Claire, listen, we got off to a bad start. Can we start over? Aiken Fordham, nice to meet you.” I held my hand out, flexing my bicep, waiting for her to return the favor.

“Claire Richards.” She took my hand, her smaller, dainty, and way smoother hand slipping into mine.

“Ugh. What do you want, Aiken? Look at you, shirtless, dripping from running in the rain.” Her hand whipped out of mine and began whisking up and down in the air, motioning at my very naked torso. “What could you possibly want from me? If you need an egg or a stick of butter, pop next door. Otherwise, let me be. I need to get out of here and beg Mary to give me a class full of students, probably not much older than you.” She alternated between eyeing me and her disobedient dog.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire,” I called, running up behind her. “And I’m a warm-blooded man, who’ll probably never have a need for a stick of butter. I’m a big boy. I know how to find a grocery store. All by myself too.”

She flung open her door and motioned Smitty inside. He stood at the screen door, staring us down with sad doggie eyes.

“Is there something wrong with getting to know my neighbor? I don’t know anyone here. Maybe you could be neighborly? Or are you so closed off you can’t do that? Because if so, that’s a damn shame,” I said through gritted teeth. Admittedly, I was more frustrated than I should have been. I was a man who desperately wanted the broken woman in front of me.


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About Rachel:

RachelB
Rachel Blaufeld is a bestselling author of Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Coming-of-Age Romance, and Sports Romance. A recent poll of her readers described her as
insightful, generous, articulate, and spunky. Originally a social worker, Rachel creates broken yet redeeming characters. She’s been known to turn up the angst like cranking up the heat in the dead of winter.

A devout coffee drinker and doughnut eater, Rachel spends way too many hours in local coffee shops, downing the aforementioned goodies while she plots her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end as lusciously as her treats.

As a side note, Blaufeld, also a long-time blogger and an advocate of woman-run anything, is fearless about sharing her opinion. She captured the ears of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog, BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and running a business, often at the same time. To her, work/life/family balance is an urban legend, but she does her best.

Rachel has also blogged for The Huffington Post and Modern Mom. Most recently, her insights can be found in USA TODAY, where she shares conversations at “In Bed with a Romance Author” and reading recommendations over at “Happy Ever After.”

Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two beagles. Her obsessions include running, coffee, basketball, icing-filled doughnuts, antiheroes, and mighty fine epilogues.

When she isn’t writing, she can be found courtside, tweeting about hoops as her son plays, or walking around the house wearing earplugs while her other son, the drummer, bangs away.

Connect with Rachel:

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Stay up to date with Rachel by joining her mailing list today!


PRE-ORDER ALERT ~ MAKE ME WANT (Make Me #1) by Katee Robert

 

Have you Pre-ordered MAKE ME WANT Yet?

 

In MAKE ME WANT, Lucy a bold and confident lawyer seeks the help of her good friend Gideon to reawaken her passion in the bedroom. Fans of Her Naughty Holiday by Tiffany Reisz or Expecting a Royal Scandal by Caitlin Crews will want to one-click this sizzling matchmaker romance.

Pre-order MAKE ME WANT and add it to your TBR pile on Goodreads!
Then keep reading to get a sneak peek excerpt and enter the giveaway for one of five (5) eBook copies of MAKE ME WANT!

 

Title: Make Me Want
Series: Make Me
Author: Katee Robert

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 1, 2018
Publisher: Harlequin Dare
Format: Digital

 

Sexy. Passionate. Bold. Discover Harlequin DARE, a new line of fun, edgy and sexually explicit romances for the fearless female.


Praise for MAKE ME WANT:
“Dare is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author


Synopsis:

“I want everything.”

She’s taking control. And it’s driving him wild!

Lucy Baudin’s ex did a number on her self-esteem, but it’s time for her to regain control. In her job as a lawyer she’s bold, confident. But in the bedroom she needs inspiration to reawaken her inner seductress. Asking her friend Gideon Novak for help seems wrong…yet so deliciously right!

 

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Enter to win one of five (5) ebook copies of MAKE ME WANT
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Make Me Want Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Katee Robert

“What the fuck, Lucy?”

“Hmm?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He pulled her dress up, though he didn’t need the confirmation. “You come in here with that cock tease of a dress and you aren’t wearing panties.” Jealousy and desire twisted viciously through him. “Were you going to give Aaron a little show?”

“Oh, please. Give me a little credit.” She lifted her chin. “I’m proving a point. You, Gideon Novak, don’t get to make my decisions for me. I appreciate your help, but that’s where it ends.”

She didn’t want him.

He was good enough to fuck but not good enough to listen to.

He kept a white-knuckled grip on his temper because having a knock-down, drag-out fight here and now wasn’t an option for either of them. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t have a right to be pissed. She’d laid out the terms that first day and if he chose to ignore them, that was on him—not on Lucy.

It didn’t make how shitty this situation was any easier to swallow.

Gideon stepped back. “The table. Bend over it.”

Her eyebrows inched up. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a fucking heart attack. I told you what would happen if you showed up like that, and you were all too eager to pick up that gauntlet. Choices have consequences, Lucy. This is one of them.”

She backed toward the table. One step. Two. “The consequences being that you’ll spank my ass red and then fuck me right here.”

She wants it.

It didn’t soothe his temper. If anything, it ratcheted it up a notch. She might want it but she didn’t want him. “The table.”

Lucy turned and, prim as a princess, bent over the table. She seemed to consider and then lowered her chest further until the top half of her body was flush against the polished wood. The position left her ass in the air and had her skirt riding up so he could see how turned on she was by this.

“Which part is getting you?” He stood between her and the door and pushed her dress the last few inches to bare her completely. “The spanking, the defiance, or the fact that we’re in an unlocked room where anyone could walk in—including your fucking date?”

She tilted her ass up, just a little, an offer that made his mouth water. But it was her words that sealed her fate. “All of the above.”


About Katee Robert

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

 

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram



 

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Spark (Crow Brothers) by S.L. Scott

Title: Spark

Author: S.L. Scott

Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 22, 2018
 
 
Blurb

 

One break is all The Crow Brothers need and we’re about to get it.
 
Johnny Outlaw, rock legend and lead singer of The Resistance, is here to watch us play. But he’s not the only familiar face in the crowd—killer little body, heart-shaped face, and drop-dead gorgeous.
 
Hannah Nichols sitting at the bar makes it hard to concentrate, sparks already reigniting. The beauty was never a groupie and tonight she’s not here to catch our show. She came to drop a bomb. “You have a son.”
 
She underestimated me. I’ll prove to my son, and her, that I can be the dad he needs.
 
What is it about musicians? Why are they so damn sexy?
 
My heart was Jet Crow’s the moment he opened his sexy mouth and sang that first song. One stolen night with that man would never be enough, but I’m not here to fall into his bed. Again. I’m here to fight for custody of a son he’s never known.
 
There’s just one problem. Those sparks between us have become flames. If we’re not careful we’re both going to get burned.
 
Purchase Links
 
99c for a limited time
 
AMAZON: US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

 

Jet Crow
 
Subtle scents of cinnamon mix with the taste of whiskey on her skin. I lick her from collarbone to the back of her ear, her moans enticing me to take more than a gentle share of what I want.
I’m well past hooking up with groupies, but something drew me to the beautiful brunette.
Under the bright spotlight of that stage, my eyes found hers as I sang about finding the missing piece of me. Maybe it was the way she pretended to not care, catching my eyes and then turning away as if she was too shy to come speak
to me, but too good to be bothered. It didn’t matter. I was already caught up in her as much as she was caught up in me.
The set ended and I made my way over to the mystery woman, the one who hid in the dark of the bar just as two shots were served. I took the shot of Fireball and then took her home shortly after.
Fuck. She feels good.
Hard little body, but soft in all the right places. Tits that fill my large hands and legs that spread enough for me to squeeze between her thighs. I bet she wouldn’t reach my shoulders in heels. Speaking of, “Keep them on.”
I like the feel of the leather against my lower back, the hard heel scraping across my skin when she tries to power play me by tightening around my waist and pulling me closer. I didn’t ask her to my bedroom. I didn’t have a chance. What started out as laughing while we shared a two a.m. snack of Cheetos, hummus, and whiskey turned into me eating her as a snack on top of my kitchen counter. I don’t ever do that with a one-nighter, but damn if she didn’t make me want to
break more rules with her.
She kisses me like a woman in need of water, taking as much as she wants while pressing her heels into my ass. The heat between us emanates until I’m dragging my shirt off to try to cool down.
I knew she was different the moment she opened her mouth back at the bar. “You sing rock with so much soul. Who hurt you?”
“No one gets close enough to do me any harm.”
“That’s a pity.”
“It’s a pity I’ve never been hurt?”
“No, it’s a pity you’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt.”
My heart started beating for what felt like the first time as I looked into her sultry eyes. I could blame the booze, but I can’t lie to myself. She had me thinking twice on things I never considered once before.
Who was this woman?
Even with our stomachs full, we weren’t satisfied. She dragged me by the belt down the hall to my bedroom. Her clothes were off and mine quickly followed before we tumbled into bed.
Fast. I want to fuck her fast and hard, but every time our eyes connect there’s such sadness found in her grays that I slow down.
Wanting her to hold contact, I cup her cheek. “Hannah?”
Her eyes slowly open, the long lashes framing the lust I find between them. “What?” she asks between heavy breaths.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Just making sure.”
She runs her hands up my neck and into the back of my hair. “I’m sure.” Pulling me down to her, our mouths are just a few inches apart when she whispers, “I want you. I want to do this.”
 
Shy isn’t something I’d call her considering we were in my bed two hours after meeting. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Hannah knows. And fuck if it isn’t a turn on that she wants me.




 
Author Bio
 

Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scottloves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She’s obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she’s a pro.

Author Links
 

 



 

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Driving Whiskey Wild (Series: The Whiskeys (Standalone)) by Melissa Foster


Title: Driving Whiskey Wild
Series: The Whiskeys (Standalone)
Author: Melissa Foster

 

Genre: Steamy Sexy Romance
Release Date: February 21, 2018 

 
 
 
A captivating new sexy standalone romance by New York Times bestselling author Melissa Foster. 

Special Forces veteran and Dark Knights Motorcycle Club member Bullet Whiskey lives to protect his family, their bar, and the residents of his small hometown. He’s rough, unapologetic, and haunted by a secret, painful past. He’s also a master at keeping people away, and when his sister hires gorgeous and sweet Finlay Wilson to help expand their biker bar, he knows just how to get rid of her.

After losing her boyfriend and her father, Finlay moves back to her hometown to be closer to the little family she has left. She needs her temporary job at Whiskey Bro’s to get her catering business off the ground, and she’s determined not to let the gruff, arrogant mountain of a man Bullet Whiskey scare her off.

Finlay is everything Bullet has never wanted. She’s afraid of his dog, afraid of motorcycles, and sweet enough to give him cavities, but as she weaves her way into the hearts of everyone around him, he’s powerless to resist her charms. Passion ignites, but trust doesn’t come easily, and when their pasts collide, Bullet finds out the true meaning of protecting those he loves.
 
 
 

 

 


 
 

  
 

“Don’t fuck this up, Bullet, or I swear I’ll make your life a living hell. She’s agreed to work with us for a month, and we need her if we’re going to pull this off. She knows about menus, hiring kitchen staff, and health regulations.”

“She doesn’t belong in a place like this, Dix. She’s not like us.” Finlay looked like a frigging angel with her silky blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was that innocence that had flipped some switch inside Bullet and made him want to sin her up and protect her at the same time. Fucking Finlay Wilson. The wedding was four weeks ago, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since. If she wasn’t starring in his X-rated fantasies, she was flitting about town in those frilly dresses she wore, spreading smiles like fairy dust.

“You didn’t seem to mind that when you hit on her at the wedding.” She arched a brow. “Or did you think I didn’t notice the way you were watching her every move when Bear and Crystal also decided to tie the knot? Sidling up to her every chance you got during the reception, like a puppy chasing a treat?”

Bullet scoffed. He’d been looking at her long before Crystal and Bear’s impromptu proposal and subsequent wedding the day Tru and Gemma got married. “She’s a hot chick. So what? I didn’t want to marry her—just have a little fun.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind seeing her in here for a few hours a day while we pull things together.”

“It’s a mistake, Dixie.” He moved around the bar and stood beside her. “A pretty little thing like her is just asking for trouble in a place like this. Why are you so hung up on hiring Finlay anyway? Did you even check with our club members to see if anyone needed a job?”

“You know, sometimes I forget that you have so much Dad in you, it’s like beating my head against a brick wall.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“That you’re as hesitant to hire outside the family as he is. That you think if someone’s not in the club or one of us, they can’t do shit.”

“Jed’s working here, isn’t he?”

Bear had recently given up bartending and was now designing motorcycles for the elite Silver-Stone Cycles. For the first time in the history of the bar, they’d been forced to hire outside the family and outside their motorcycle club, the Dark Knights, which was as solid as family. Although Jed Moon, who was not only their new part-time bartender but also worked as an auto mechanic for the shop, was Bear’s new brother-in-law. So technically, he was family. Finlay Wilson was not. Finlay Wilson was trouble waiting to happen.

“Give me a break.” He shook his head. “We always hire family first.”

“Yeah? Well, which of our club members do you think knows how to run a restaurant? Gutter, the home repair expert? Or maybe one of the Bando brothers, who pour concrete for a living? Do you realize Finlay went to one of the best culinary schools in Boston? She’s worked in a restaurant, and she’s run her own catering company for years, and soon she’ll be opening a catering company right here in town.”

He didn’t give a rat’s ass about her credentials. If anything, she was overqualified. But the thought of her flouncing around the bar with a bunch of horny, drunk guys going after her made Bullet’s blood boil. The fact that she was not his to worry about did not escape him. “We’re offering sandwiches and fries, not gourmet meals.”

“Which makes her the perfect person for this job. She knows how to keep costs down, and she’s from Peaceful Harbor. She’s putting down roots here, which means she’ll want to see the business do well—so it doesn’t reflect poorly on her. What do you have against Finlay, anyway?”

“Against her? Nothing.” Though he’d like to be buried deep inside her. “But she’ll get eaten alive in a place like this and she’ll go cowering out the door. Then we’ll be left trying to figure shit out anyway. Besides—”

The creak of the front door opening drew their attention. Bullet looked over his shoulder, meeting the innocent blue eyes of the angel peeking in at them.

 


 
 
 
 
 

  

Melissa writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance and women’s fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Readers adore Melissa’s fun, flirty, and sinfully sexy, award-winning big-family romance collection, LOVE IN BLOOM featuring the Snow Sisters, Bradens, Remingtons, Ryders, Seaside Summer, Harborside Nights, Wild Boys and Bad Boys After Dark, and the Montgomerys. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented– perfect beach reads for contemporary romance lovers who enjoy reading about loyal, wealthy heroes and smart, sassy heroines with complex and relatable issues.


Melissa also writes sweet and clean romance under the pen name Addison Cole.

Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on social media or her personal website. Get 5 eBooks FREE >> www.MelissaFoster.com/LIBFREE
 


 

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RELEASE BOOST ~ The Pilot and the Puck-Up by Pippa Grant

 

 

Title: The Pilot & the Puck-Up
Author: Pippa Grant

Genre: Sexy Romantic Comedy

 Release Date: February 16, 2018
 
Blurb

He’s the biggest, baddest, most spider-fearing motherpucker on the ice…

When you’re named after the king of the gods, the world expects certain things of you.

Tough? Damn right.

Smart? Don’t let the hockey uniform fool you.

Large and in charge? Honey, I’m the biggest, baddest, mother pucking-est machine to ever own the ice. I shoot. I score. In and out of the rink. I don’t come early, but I come often, if you know what I mean. And I always leave the ladies wanting more.

Until that chick last night.

I’m no one-thrust wonder, and you’re damn right I’m going to prove to her I can do better. But every time I think I’m finally on my way back into her pants, she one-ups and out-balls me.

I should cut my losses, lick my wounds, and walk away.

But Zeus Berger doesn’t walk away from anything.

Especially when she’s the only woman in the world who might be able to handle me.


The Pilot and the Puck-Up is a standalone romantic comedy featuring a hockey player whose ego is the only thing bigger than his shoe size, the most badass woman to ever fly a plane, rubber chockey (don’t ask), and no cheating or cliffhangers.
 
  
Purchase Links
 
AMAZON: US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited 

 


 

 

Excerpt
 
Zeus Berger (aka the biggest, baddest, most spider-fearing mother pucker to ever play in the NHL)
 
Coconuts are itchy. I should’ve gone for the watermelons.
But it was a bitch and a half getting that last-minute private fitting at Madame Cosette’s anyway, and the woman probably would’ve had to stitch three bras together and then nailed the damn contraption to my shoulders to get it to hold without losing a melon, so coconuts it is.
Besides, it’s the heels that are gonna be the bigger problem. Damn good thing I have ankles of fucking steel.
And my minidress is stretched to max capacity over the coconuts anyway. It’s also in danger of showing my other coconuts, if you catch my drift. And there’s definitely a drift—or is that a draft?—on my other coconuts.
A wolf whistle echoes through the swanky private clubhouse where I’m strolling in with my twin brother on my left and my brother from another mother on my right. A passing server drops a tray of champagne.
Conversation stops. And a bunch of stuffy golf pricks gape at us like we’re a mutant alien circus freak show crashing their million-dollar wedding reception.
We’re three dudes who have more money than God, more muscles than all the Kardashians’ bodyguards combined, and more fun than cotton candy and roller coasters.


Also Available
 
 
FREE for a limited time!
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Always free in Kindle Unlimited
 
 
 
99c for a limited time!
 
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited
 

 

Author Bio
 
Pippa Grant is a stay-at-home mom and housewife who loves to escape into sexy, funny stories way more than she likes perpetually cleaning toothpaste out of sinks and off toilet handles. When she’s not reading, writing, sleeping, or trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, she’s fantasizing about chocolate chip cookies.
 
 
Author Links
 
 

 

Giveaway
 

COVER & EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Tic Tac Love by A.M. Willard

Release Date: March 14, 2018
Cover Design: MadHat Books

Synopsis

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in love with Paxton West. I’ve planned our wedding in my head a million times. What our babies would look like. How we would grow old together and still play our favorite game— Tic-Tac-Toe.

However, we have one problem.

Paxton doesn’t believe in true love, soul mates, or happily ever after. Oh, did I also tell you he doesn’t want kids? It also means I can’t explain to him that he’s the only guy for me, or about my—our—current situation.

The past started with a game of X’s and O’s.
Then came the miles and miles that kept us apart.
Next came tequila shots… They’re never a great idea.

Now, more than ever, the future scares the crap out of me. If my plan backfires, I could not only lose my best friend but the love of my life.

Dang those tequila shots.

 

Goodreads



Preorder Links

iBooks: http://apple.co/2AzdI4a

New Release Alert: http://eepurl.com/dfiHun


Excerpt

Stepping out into the hallway, I head toward my door with my shoes and keys in my hand. All I can think of at this moment is stripping down out of these clothes and face-planting into my pillow where I can sleep the many drinks off. Right as I open the door, I hear the faint ding echoing down from the elevators. Shrugging it off, I enter my apartment and lock up behind me. I guess I find it odd that someone else would be wandering the halls this late or early. I’m never out at this time and have no idea what the neighbors do after I fall asleep. A new male neighbor moved in a few weeks ago. I already had the pleasure of bumping into him while trying to not spill my coffee one morning. I still deny that it was his looks that threw me off.

I drop my keys into the bowl next to the door before heading straight to my room where I lose my heels and strip out of my shirt and bra. Right as I unbuckle my jeans, I hear a faint knock, so low that I’m not sure if it’s my door or a bump against the wall from next door. Knock… knock… echoes again. I grab my shirt from the floor, slide it over my head, and go to investigate the sound that’s causing the hairs on my neck to stand. Rounding the kitchen island, my feet dig into the ceramic tile as the lock on my door twists. I’m frozen in place… Unable to move anything on my body as I hold my breath waiting to see what’s happening. It’s now that my mind races with all the horror movies I’ve screamed at over the years. The ones where the girl is either running up the stairs to hide from the intruder instead of outside to safety. Or where they just stand there as if a target is placed on their chest. Just pick one, because I’m that girl at this moment. My face is frozen, ice coursing through my veins. The hairs on the back of my neck are at full attention as if we are standing to pledge to the flag. My eyes stare straight ahead as the door opens in slow motion. Saying a little prayer, I close my eyes and wait for what’s going to happen next. Fear overtakes me, consuming my body, mind—everything.

“Belle, what are you doing?” I hear his voice, but then I’m afraid to open my eyes. Could it be possible that two people in this world have the same husky voice that makes me weak in the knees?

With my eyes still squeezed shut, my other senses go on high alert. The drop of a bag, the tap-taps of a set of shoes against the tile grow louder and louder as the person gets closer to me. “Belle, open your eyes and breathe before you pass out.”

Slowly, I do as he instructed. That’s the moment that I lean against the counter for support as I thank God that it wasn’t a killer that had a key to my place. Paxton’s face scrunches up as he reaches over for me.

“What were you doing?”

“I thought you were here to kill me; I was bracing myself for the worst.”

“What have I told you about watching those horror movies, huh? You let them get to you, and why would a killer use a key?”

“I don’t know; they could’ve made a copy when I wasn’t paying attention, or it could’ve been the security guard—who knows… What are you doing here?”

“Not the welcome I thought I’d receive, but my plans changed. You were more important to come see.”

I let Paxton’s statement set in before I smile up at him. Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around his neck and breathe him in. The faint hint of the stale airport, his earthy spice, and lemon soothes my nerves.

“Are you just getting home?” he inquires, and I notice his voice hints to a bit of jealousy. That confuses me as he’s never been the jealous type. One to worry about my well-being—yes, but not curious about where I’ve been or with whom.

“I am,” I answer as I pull away from him and step over to the fridge. Opening it up, I grab a bottle of water before glancing back over to Paxton. His hands are gripping the edge of the countertop, face blank not revealing any indication of what he’s thinking. “Want something to drink or eat?” is the only thing that I can think to ask.

“No, I’m good. I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

“Paxton,” I let his name slip from my mouth to stop him. He slows his stride over to his bags, turns to look at me and, before I can say anything else, wanders over to me.

“Belle, get some sleep, and we’ll chat in the morning,” is all he says before placing a kiss on top of my head. I stand here in the middle of my kitchen with a bottle of water in my hand, watching his back retreat from me to the spare bedroom. I’m not sure how long I stand here, confused and unable to move. It’s the sound of the shower turning on that breaks me from my thoughts. Causing me to realize that this isn’t a dream. Instead of sulking from the blow off that I just received from Paxton, I force myself to go to my room. Closing the door behind me, I pad over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and a top to change into. The sound of the water still running through the pipes on the other side of my bedroom causes my heart to beat faster. I can’t explain the way I feel right now. How I’m confused about what I should be feeling. I’m blaming the amount of alcohol that’s in my system. It’s not like he’s never showered here before. It’s more the fact that he blew off an assignment to come see me. That’s something Paxton’s never done. Work has always come first for him. No matter what, he’s never turned down a job; well, for as long as I known him. My head hits the pillow, but my eyes refuse to close. The wheel’s spinning a million times faster than it ever does. With the water off, the apartment is quiet, and I can hear his footsteps down the hall and how they stop outside my door before going to his. The door clicks shut, finalizing that there won’t be a conversation tonight. Unless I pull a trick out of the old handbook.

I roll over, grab my phone from the nightstand, and power it up for the first time since I shut it off in the elevator. It’s then that I notice the messages from Paxton. I listen to his voicemail and read through his text. I can’t scroll up to where I left the short, clipped response to him canceling this weekend.

Me: Are you okay? I know you’re tired, but something seems off.

I could crawl into bed and lie next to him, but taking the chicken way out of this is better tonight. I don’t trust my mouth, and I’m pretty sure that I’d slip up and say something that I’d regret tomorrow. I’m sobering up, but the way he made my heart restrict tonight from the pain that was washed over his face out of concern for me is causing me to expect the worse. Did he come here to tell me something’s wrong? Was that why he canceled his trip?


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About the Author

Bestselling Author, A.M. Willard resides in Savannah, Georgia. She joined the Peach State many years ago after leaving the crystal blue waters and sugary white sand behind from the Panhandle of Florida. She’s also known for being a wife, mother, and caretaker for her farm animals. A.M. loves anything sassy, glittery, and is a sucker for the Hallmark Channel. That last one might be the reason she believes in soulmates or it could be because she married her high school sweetheart for twenty years ago.

After releasing her first novella series back in 2014, A.M. set out on a new goal to bring her readers a broad range of romantic stories from her desk. This includes Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance, and from time to time some Sexy Romance.

A.M. is an active member of RWA (Romance Writers of America).

 

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BLOG TOUR ~ One Night in Havana (#34 in the City Nights Series) by Kathleen Rowland


One Night in Havana 
#34 in the City Nights Series from Tirgearr Publishing
by Kathleen Rowland

Kathleen will be awarding 3 lucky winners a $10 Amazon Gift Certiticate. Winners will be chosen randomly with Rafflecopter. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

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About the Book:  


A desperate competition and sizzling attraction leads to dangerous desire.


New York Marine biologist Veronica “Roni” Keane is attending the Havana Bay Conference in Cuba. Tomorrow only one grant will be awarded which will provide the winner with professional recognition, resources for a project, and living expenses for two years. She hopes to continue her deceased father’s work, but smooth operator, Carlos Montoya, has won many grants in the past.


Carlos, a freelancer for the Havana Port Authority, works to help protect Havana’s reputation as a bastion of safety. As international travelers flock to the island, attracted by its 1950’s time-warp and colonial architecture, the drug business is running rampant, particularly on Roni’s cruise ship. Something’s not right, and when her scuba tanks are tampered with, Carlos brings in the military police to investigate. For her safety, he keeps her close, but he craves her body.


Their attraction leads to a fun night with a bit of kink. But Roni finds herself in more trouble than she bargained for when the criminals blame her for alerting the military police and come looking for her. Can Roni trust Carlos to protect her? Will she stay in Havana if Carlos wins the coveted grant, or kiss her lover goodbye?


An erotic romance with mystery. 

Amazon Buy Link



Excerpt:


 Chapter One

“Why, Veronica Keane.” A voice heavy with a Spanish accent drawled from behind her. “A dive bar?” A taunting tsk.
“What do we have? A slumming New Yorker?”
She stiffened and closed her eyes. She knew that voice and its owner, Dr. Carlos Montoya, a finalist like her, competing for the same damn grant at the biggest Cephalopoda conference of the decade. Her heart pitter-pattered against her ribs. To turn toward him would intimate distress, or worse yet, weakness. She wouldn’t fail to win this grant, not when she was a final contender. “I like this funky little place.” Sia Macario Café, smack in the center of Havana, allowed her to observe locals and their daily lives.
“You need to eat with all the mojitos you’ve downed.” The big tease wasn’t  counting. This was her first drink, but his rumbling, sexy timbre hinted at all kinds of dark, hot promises. She’d rubbed shoulders with the Cuban scientist all week. This splendid specimen of Latin male brought on a physical ache that punched low.
A flare-up stirred fear. For her own good, she needed to resist. “I ordered camarones enchiladas.” By now she knew the menu on the chalkboard by heart. She tipped her head back to whiff grilled shrimp soon to arrive in sofrito sauce with fried sweet plantains.
“The flan is good. Just like my abuela makes.”
“I bet. Your grandmother would be happy to hear that,” she said, knowing he brought out the best in most people. Two days ago he’d invited her and a handful of others scuba diving. The chance to ogle him had been one of the perks. He’d worn nothing but swim trunks, his bare chest on display. Every glistening muscle was finely etched. Not a drop of fat on him. Since he’d not given her the time of day, she’d checked him out without him noticing.
The hard-bodied host had led the way toward habitats of soft-bodied creatures. To find where invertebrates lived was never an easy task. Octopuses squeezed into narrow passages of coral for protection and gave females a place to keep their eggs. She’d discovered the remains of a few meals nearby.Octopuses scattered rocks and shells to help them hide.
 This grant meant so much to her and no doubt to him as well. Veronica mindlessly toyed with the gold necklace around her neck, but anxiety crackled through her brain. Unlike this man of action, she lacked the flamboyant personality necessary to talk people into things. Carlos had that ability. He’d made friends with judges on board while she’d conversed with an older woman about a box of scones made with Cuban vanilla cream.
That day the wind had picked up to a gale force, and this woman named Bela with Lucille Ball red hair needed help walking to her home. The half mile down the seaside promenade, The Malecón, had provided her with time to practice her Spanish. Turned out Bela was Carlos’s grandmother. She’d worked as a maid when the Castro government came to power. When private homes were nationalized, titles were handed over to the dwelling occupants. Bela owned a crumbling home in the respected Verdado district and rented out rooms.
What Veronica detested about Carlos was his abnormal level of talent for schmoozing. Not that he wasn’t charismatic; he drew her like a powerful magnet with emotions hard to untangle. Why was a self-assured woman who ran her own life thinking about a man who commanded everyone around him?
She inhaled a breath and turned around on the barstool, caught fast by a gut punch of Carlos Montoya in the flesh. She sighed and surrendered to the tendrils of want sliding up between her thighs.
Tall and muscular, his lush dark hair curled to his collar giving him a wild, roguish appearance. His face was lean and chiseled. His mouth full and tempting. His eyes the smoky-gray of a grass fire and fringed with black lashes as dense as paintbrushes. He smiled. A faint hint of mockery curved his mouth, a sensual mouth she imagined to be either inviting or cruel. Or both at the same time when he leaned over a woman with a diamond-hard gleam in his dark eyes while she drowned with pleasure. She fought a fierce desire to run her hand across his broad chest, tip her face upward, and…
His breath tickled her face.
Not going there. She blinked and forced her mind to focus. Carlos Montoya was not the kind of man you lost focus around. But that image of putting her mouth full on his and peeling away his shirt once introduced in her mind was impossible to expunge. Pointless even to try.
He was an intimidating blend of intellect and sexy danger. Both qualities had her leaning back against the bar’s edge. If it weren’t for him, she’d have a chance at winning the grant.
His lips twitched. “You’re staying on one of the cruise ships, am I right?” He rolled up the sleeves of his linen jacket to reveal a dusting of manly hair.
”Yes.” Her cabin served as her hotel room while attending the January meetings with perfect high-seventies temperatures. His eyes locked with hers. She willed herself to move and yet she remained seated, clutching heat between her legs, a wetness so intense that her breath stalled in her chest while her heart hammered faster. Soon she’d return to freezing New York City.
“So, Bonita, give.” He slid onto the bar stool next to her. “What brings you down from a lofty ship to grace us lowly Cubans with your presence?”
Bonita. Pretty lady was not an endearment coming from the mouth curved in a taunting smile, but not a slight either. Not with his deep, melodic voice speaking words as if he knew secrets about her. What secrets did he know? Would he pry into her personal life? She doubted this bad-boy college professor acknowledged boundaries.
“Just drinks and dinner.” She scrambled for composure. “Aren’t we attending a world-class conference? I find the local population to be friendly and kind. That’s not slumming.”
The bartender set down a saoco. “Hope you like it, senorita.”
“Gracias,” she said. “Very nice, served in a coconut.”
“Ah, the saoco,” Carlos said. “Rum, lime juice, sugar, and ice. The saoco,” he repeated, disbelief heavy in his words. “Um. Wow. Once used as a tonic for prisoners of the revolution.”
“Medicinal?” She couldn’t help it. She chuckled and sounded as if a rusty spoon had scraped her throat raw, but it was genuine. The warm glow in its wake was welcome and needed. .
He leaned an elbow on the bar, his beer bottle with the green-and-red Cristal label dangling between his fingers. “Be careful with that one.” He dipped his head toward the front door as if he needed to go somewhere soon.
That fast, the glow snuffed out. She cleared her throat and gripped the fuzzy surface of the coconut container.
He placed a five-peso coin with a brass plug on the counter and whirled it. The spinning motion mirrored a dizzying attraction going on in low parts of her belly.
She cleared her wayward mind and nodded toward artwork on the opposite wall. “I plan to buy a painting tonight.”
“Don’t buy anything unless the seller gives you a certificate. You’ll need one to take art from Cuba. Artists deal in euros in case you don’t have pesos.”
She’d come prepared but said, “Thanks for the info.”
His coal-black eyes widened as he gazed from her head down to the tiny straps around her ankles as if she wore high heels and nothing else. “You give off a Barbie doll image,” he replied and stood up.
“Huh?”
“Where’s Ken, anyway? Kenneth Morton. He came with you to the talks in Antarctica. Five years ago.” He grinned, and the mortification in her belly gave way to a longing which she had no business feeling toward her competitor.
“Ken and I broke up.” She hesitated for a moment. “You have a gift for remembering names. Like a salesman.”
“A person’s name is, to that person, the most important and sweetest sound. Back then I introduced myself to Ken in the men’s room.”
“I remember now. Didn’t you give a talk on a specialized pigment in the octopus?”
“Ahh, si.” He splayed his fingers over his chest. “A pigment in their blood is—”
 “—called hemocyanin. Turns their blood blue and helps them survive subfreezing temperatures. Were you awarded something?”
“The antifreeze protein grant? No. It went to a deep-diving photographer. He wasn’t chicken about getting lost or trapped under the ice.”
She slid from her stool and strutted around, jutting her chin in and out like a chicken. “Bock, bock, bock, bock, bock, begowwwwk.”
He chuckled. “Cute chicken dance. Very cute in that skimpy black dress.”
Her cheeks heated, and she clutched her necklace. He’d seen plenty of women in body-fitting attire. In Cuba, women wore dresses to meetings. If she’d harnessed sexier mojo, she’d have livened up presentations. Her presentations with an abundance of dull data went south. She slid back against her stool and clutched her purse to her stomach as if the small satin bag could calm the nerves playing deep down kickball. She belonged in her tidy New York office filled with computers, modems, and research manuals. Not in this softly lit café where passion oozed from a man’s pores, and artists displayed their canvases. Here was where Havana’s trendsetters congregated, and Ernest Hemingway wrote about desire.
“Good luck with your purchases, Veronica Keane.”
Okay, so they weren’t going to pretend they were going head to head for the grant.
As if he had more to say, he grinned at her, his perfect white teeth flashing.. “Do you find us different, like apples and oranges?”
“What am I, an apple or an orange?”
“Hmm. You’re an apple.” He was doing that sexy voice thing which made her brain shut down. Heady. 
It started with an unexpected spark, an instant attraction, the jolting jab of oh-I’m-feeling-something. Something like a flashfire in her belly, but now they were talking. “Am I the apple of desire? Want to take a bite out of me?” She pulled in a breath. Had she really said that?
Bonita, do I ever.”
“Tomorrow is the final ceremony.” Would she watch him walk to the podium to accept the grant? 



About the Author: 

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with an erotic love story sure to melt their hearts.  Her latest release is One Night in Havana, #34 in the City Nights series.

Kathleen also has a steamy romantic suspense series with Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy Alliance. Keep an icy drink handy while reading these sizzling stories.

Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.

Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.

Links:
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CHAPTER REVEAL ~ King (Sinister Knights MC) by Aria Cole

 

 

 

 

 

 

King Williams has seen the other side of hell, his tortured solitude hiding pain behind the cut of his marble jaw. Stubborn fortitude has gotten him this far, but one night with Piper at a club party is all it takes to unravel the walls he’s built. Now he can’t get her out of his head. His obsessive need rages before he pulls her in so deep both of their lives land on the line. The only thing that matters might be the only thing he can’t protect.

When Piper Parish spots King, high-ranking member of the Sinister Knights MC, nearly naked late one night, it isn’t the first time he’s caught her eye. It is, however, the first time she’s set eyes on the cobblestoned abs and chiseled lines etched into this bad boy’s body. Like a flash of lightning in the darkness, Piper finds herself thrown into a whirlwind ride with the brooding biker…a ride he will never let her forget.

Warning: King is one sexy, moody Harley ridin’ bad boy. he’s Piper’s idea of devilish, dark, attractive and so off-limits. Until now. He’ll stop at nothing to make her his, but is she ready to buckle in for the ride of a lifetime?


 

ONE

Piper

“I love him, Piper. I know I’ve said it before, but I know for sure this time. Truly,” Anna breathed at my ear, squeezing my elbow once.
“Ryker is mad about you. I can see it. Just the way the grouchy old bear as glaring at us now…” Ryker huffed, taking a long swallow from his beer bottle. “Despite your sunshiny disposition, I’m glad you’re back.” I glanced at the man of the hour, still hovering a few feet away from his girl, just in earshot, looking as if he were ready to steal her away from me at any minute.
He probably was.
I sucked in a sigh, eyes casting not for the first time at King, scowling from across the room, a matching beer bottle in his hand. I’d been wishing lately that King would look at me the same way Ryker was looking at Anna now.
Anna deserved happiness, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ryker was the man who made her happy. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t a tiny bit jealous of the love she’d found. I’d taken to spending so much more time at the ranch in the last few years since Ryker had gone up to County, not that Anna needed a babysitter, but Ryker being gone was tough on her.
Some nights I’d just held her in her bed and let her cry on my shoulder.
There was nothing else I could do.
Not only had Anna been recovering from an assault suffered at the hands of someone she trusted. But then Ryker, the very person who’d saved her from a far worse fate, had been stolen from her life too. Anna was never quite the same after Ryker was gone.
And now that Ryker was back and Anna’s face was plastered with a radiant smile, I was left with only one person on my mind.
Someone I’d seen hovering in the shadows for years now, just out of reach, broad and brooding and smarter than any other person I’d ever known.
I’d grown up like a little sister to the Sinister Knights, but from the very beginning, I’d had an uncontrollable crush on the quietest of the crew, King Williams. Always thoughtful, respectful, with a wry sense of humor and a full beard that sent butterflies fluttering around my stomach.
“I’ll text you later, okay?” Anna grinned, Ryker’s hand pulling her from me already.
“Have fun!” I waved her off, unable to help her infectious grin from covering my face too. I loved nothing more than seeing my best friend happy, even if the guy who made her feel that way was one big, tall, scary motherfucker.
To each her own, I figured.
Just as my eyes settled on the sound system set up in one corner, King came into view, head bent and eyes trained on my heavily lined ones.
He was so devastating it almost took my breath away.
He closed the distance, eyes never leaving mine, and he was suddenly in my space and draining all the oxygen from my lungs.
“H-hi,” I stuttered.
“Piper.” He nodded, pausing at my shoulder, a thousand unspoken things in his eyes.
I gnawed on my bottom lip, not able to form a single word.
King and I had had a hundred conversations about a hundred different things over the years, but now I was suddenly choking on my tongue.
“How’s Anna?” King finally asked, breaking his gaze.
“Great, now that Ryker is here.”
King nodded, a sly grin cocking up one side of his mouth.
The air hung heavy between us, energy so thick and suffocating it nearly swept me under just being so close. I no longer felt like a little girl next to this man; I felt like a woman, independent and strong, worthy of his attention.
I pressed my lips together, stomach swirling to the point of dizzying irritation before the first few chords of a Tom Petty song came through the stereo.
I covered my lips, stifling a giggle as I thought of one summer night when Ryker and King had caught Anna and me out after midnight, giggling as we talked about boys we had crushes on. Even then, King had sucked me in, the dark way his energy sucked up all the air in a room. He’d been making my insides turn cartwheels since day one.
“Wanna dance?” I blurted, half regretting it.
His guarded grin turned up, eyes dancing before a palm tucked in at my waist and pulled me a few inches closer to his body.
I nearly lost my head then.
I swallowed the ball of nerves in my throat and slid my hand along the hard muscle of his bicep.
“The only person I want abusing that pretty lip is me,” King muttered, thumb catching my bottom lip and pulling it from its prison beneath my teeth.
“Oh.”
His smile deepened when he twisted our fingers together, turning me in a circle under his arm and then leaning me back into a heavy dip. The strong angle of his Roman nose trailed up the dip of my throat, lips brushing against my fiery hot skin and nearly causing me to swoon into a pool of bliss between his leather boots.
“I swear, every time I hear this song I’m with you.” He pulled my lips closer, faintly touching as we danced close. His hand was positioned at the small of my back now, melding our bodies a little more.
“Really?” I asked.
He nodded, eyes darting to the ceiling as he thought back. “When Saint, Ryker, and I taught you and Anna how to drive by using the old diesel around the pasture.”
I shook my head, laughing at the memory.
Anna had stalled the old manual transmission at least a dozen times, and just when Ryker was about to lose it, he’d gotten behind the wheel to prove a point and stalled it himself.
“That was a fun day.” I giggled.
“We’ve had a lot of fun days,” he said, other hand slipping over the nape of my neck, drawing me a little closer into his orbit. Making me a little more drunk on all things King. “And remember when Prez almost caught you and Anna sneaking out of her window one night?”
“Oh, yeah.” I nodded, the faint memory growing clearer as I remembered King pulling up on his bike just at the moment Prez was about to question where we were going. Instead, he thought we were only out talking to King, no harm, no foul there. “We never went out that night, got too scared and crawled back into Anna’s window. We made popcorn and watched The Breakfast Club.”
“I know.” King exhaled at my neck, sending a shiver skittering down my spine.
“How do you know?”
His fingers looped into the hair at my temple, his hard body pressed so closely to mine I was sure I could feel his heavy erection stretching past my navel. “Do you think I would have let you leave? I got you off the hook with Prez, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know what the hell you were up to. I woulda tanned your hide if you’d tried to sneak out again.”
My knees went weak, my breaths suddenly ragged as I thought about his body against mine, our clothes discarded on the floor, his lips tracing the lines of my body…
His callused palms traced down to my backside, the dress that spanned high across my thighs suddenly feeling like too much fabric separating us.
I didn’t know what tomorrow might hold, but I didn’t even care. Just having King’s hands on me was a fantasy I’d dreamed of so many nights I couldn’t even begin to count. Now here it was, so close to all falling into place.
“King!” Prez’s voice boomed from across the room.
King sighed heavily, hands gripping at the flesh of my backside as his forehead landed on mine. “I wish to fuck I didn’t have to answer that.”
I pushed a hand through his hair, my urge to purge the frown from his face strong. “Duty calls.”
“So it does.” His grip on my backside loosened, lips hovering just out of reach.
I swallowed, waiting, silently begging for his lips to touch mine, before Prez bellowed one last time. “King! Now!”
My handsome, thoughtful biker grunted under his breath, nodding once, eyes catching mine for one long moment before he turned, head down, and walked away from me.
Having King to myself would never be easy around the Sinister Knights. What was I thinking? That maybe now was finally our time?
I was under the influence of Anna’s contagious lovey-dovey shit, Tom Petty and his Heartbreakers, and that delicious, woodsy masculine scent that seemed to follow King everywhere.
Who the hell smelled that good anyway?




Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn’t take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she’s writing next!+Sign up to get a NEW RELEASE ALERT from me


 

RELEASE BLITZ ~ Tortured (The Program #3) by N.M. Catalano

TORTURED
The Program ~ Book 3

by N.M. Catalano

 

Published: February 20th
Romantic Erotic Suspense, Romantic Erotica, Contemporary Women’s

Order Links:

Release Party:


Pre-Release Reviews

“”Tortured” is NOT your run of the mill romance… Hell No! It’s sizzling hot to a point of INFERNO… you have been warned… PROCEED WITH CAUTION! N.M. Catalano does not do light romance… definitely NOT her M.O.! She will grip all your senses and thrust passion with so much force you will be gasping for air! She lives up to her reputation as the Queen Of Erotica…”
Pauline, Passionate About Books Blog

“Tests the limits of your emotions! From love to hate – from understanding to condemnation! Unrestrained – Primitive – RAW.”
Joy, A Wonderful World Of Words Blog

“This overarching story has been building from Page 1 of Canvas. The tension is building and the pieces are starting to fit into place. The writing … N.M Catalano you are amazing.” Cat, Amazon Reviewer



Description

They say I have demons.
They’re right.
They say I’m dangerous.
They’re right about that. The four of us, that’s what we do.
They say I have no emotions.
I wish.
I feel everything, maybe more than you.
They said I shouldn’t fall in love with a married woman.
They’re right about that, too. It wasn’t part of the assignment.
But I did.
Now they want her.
My demons are going to destroy them.

There once was a girl who believed in fairytales.
They all came true.
With contracts and lies and deceit.
There is a woman who cries herself to sleep.
Who lives a lie behind a beautiful mask.
There is a woman who almost gave up.
Almost.
But then her prince charming came.
He is everything she needs.
Mysterious, dark, dangerous, who makes her do things, things that would shock you.
Everything that she needs.
There is a woman who belongs to someone else, who can never leave.
There is a woman who is imprisoned by deals and money and power.
There is a woman who loves a man she cannot have.

There is a man and a woman who will be destroyed.


**18+, very strong sexual content, very strong language, MFM.

Suspense, a bit dark, BDSM, and absolutely intended for mature audiences, cliffhanger**



Excerpt:

TORTURED, Book 3 in The Program series

“Torture With Pleasure” Teaser

“Tonight, my pet, I’m going to tie you. It’s going to be tight, and you won’t be able to move. I’m going to torture you with pleasure. When you give up what I want, I’ll reward you.” Another shudder ripples through her body. “Do you understand?” She nods her head yes, but doesn’t answer. “Good.” I drag my hands over her body and cup her breasts, squeezing their delicious plumpness in my palms. “Lift your arms.” She does, and I pull her silk gold ribbed sweater over her head. “When I’m done with you, your body will be covered with the rope marks.” She sighs that fucking sigh that gets me harder.  Undoing her bra, her breasts fall free. “What do you think when you look at my marks?” I whisper with my mouth at her ear. Her breathing is heavy now. I fucking love it.

She closes her eyes tightly. “I think, ‘yours’.”

That shit right there goes straight to my cock.

“Take off your shoes, Sasha,” I tell her as I unzip her skirt, slide it down until my thumbs slip into the elastic of her panties, and pull them both down her legs. With her now naked, I bend and pick up all of her things and bring them to one of the chairs under the window. The other, I carry to the foot of the bed. Next, I go to the walk-in closet, strip off my shirt, shoes, and socks, and leave them on the floor. In a box on the top shelf is where I keep the toys I bought for her. I take out the butt plug. Next to it is a bag of rope. I remove the five lengths I need. Back in the bedroom, I get the lube from the nightstand.


Pick up the other books in the series:

CANVAS Book 1 is right here 
TRIFECTA Book 1.5, Only .99!! Right here 
BREATHE Book 2 is right here
TORTURED Book 3 Right here 

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TORTURED

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AUTHOR BIO

N.M. Catalano is an Amazon bestselling multi-published author.
She spent many years in the corporate world, and owned several businesses. Having been fortunate to have such varied exposures, she had many opportunities to be exposed to different societies and cultures. After years of studying people and lifestyles, her fascination comes to life in the pages of her stories.

“I am just a woman, like many of you, who has lived through beauty and ugliness, happiness, (sometimes extreme), and sadness, (sometimes heart wrenching), and have grown to love life and myself even more. I write because I love the characters, I am madly and hopelessly in love with them and want to share them with the world. Life is beautiful and is meant to be enjoyed day by day, sometimes you have to pick out the good stuff with a magnifying glass like a needle in a haystack, but enjoyed none the less. The stories that I put on paper, I think, help us to find that enjoyment a little bit more.

I am just a woman who is in love with love… <3″

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BLOG TOUR ~ MORE THAN LOVE YOU (More Than Words series) by Shayla Black

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More Than Love You, an all-new sexy romance from New York Times
and USA Today bestselling author Shayla Black is available NOW !

03 MoreThanLoveYou

I’m Noah Weston. For a decade, I’ve quarterbacked America’s most iconic football team and plowed my way through women. Now I’m transitioning from star player to retired jock—with a cloud of allegation hanging over my head. So I’m escaping to the private ocean-front paradise I bought for peace and quiet. What I get instead is stubborn, snarky, wild, lights-my-blood-on-fire Harlow Reed. Since she just left a relationship in a hugely viral way, she should be the last woman I’m seen with.

On second thought, we can help each other…

I need a steady, supportive “girlfriend” for the court of public opinion, not entanglements. Harlow is merely looking for nonstop sweaty sex and screaming orgasms that wring pleasure from her oh-so-luscious body. Three months—that’s how long it should take for us both to scratch this itch and leave our respective scandals behind. But the more I know this woman, the less I can picture my life without her. And when I’m forced to choose, I’ll realize I don’t merely want her in my bed or need her for a ruse. I more than love her enough to do whatever it takes to make her mine for good.

More Than Love You is a sexy and emotional standalone novel in the More Than Words Series.



Excerpt:

“Noah?”

At the sounds of splashing, I turn to find Harlow emerging from the pool, walking up one step at a time, dripping, swaying with every step, and completely blowing my mind. Her long hair clings to her pretty breasts, flirting with her plump nipples. Her waist dips in, then flares out to a pair of hips I want my hands on. She’s sleek and sexy and stunning.

I can’t find words for an entirely different reason than before. She leaves me speechless.

“Can you hand me a towel from over there?” She points to the patio table.

On autopilot, I back toward the surface, never taking my eyes off her. When I bump into the glass, I grope behind me until terry cloth fills my hand. Then I race toward Harlow. “Need anything else?”

She takes the towel from me, and we’re standing so close I can smell her scent mixed with a tinge of chlorine. “A shower. Then an orgasm or two, preferably that you give me.”

Did I hear her right? “You sure?”

Harlow nods, her gaze tangling with mine. “I want to fuck.”

It takes a split second for her declaration to sink in. I was convinced she wouldn’t want me after she figured out I’m just a man with flaws. Then again, she was never looking to get laid from someone ESPN hailed as a football god. She just wants pleasure.

The way she holds my gaze singes me with heat. It sizzles across my skin, burning the flesh under my surface. I can’t quite breathe.

I have a feeling she’s going to be trouble—and I don’t care.

“Let’s do it.” Taking the towel from her grip, I jerk it until it unfolds, then wrap it around her back, covering the dripping ends of her hair. Then I tug her against me. Her skin feels cool pressed to my overheated chest. I don’t dare kiss her now. The way I want her, I’ll lay her out on the first available surface, and I’d rather save my knees the agony of looking for the leverage to fuck her properly on a chaise lounge.

Digging for restraint, I drag in a rough breath. If I’m already having trouble resisting her, how bad will the craving be once I’ve had a taste?

I shove the thought aside. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“I never thought you would.”

“I won’t be gentle.”

“Good. I may be small, but I’m not fragile.”

“I won’t be quick. Expect me to be at you all night.”

A sly smile curls up the sides of her lips that turns me on even more. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I run out of ways to warn her that I intend to turn her inside out and wring her dry before I let her leave my bed. But fuck it, I’ll let my body do the talking.

Bending, I lift her to my chest. She’s a tiny thing. Given her boobs and hips, I thought she would be heavier to carry, but I’ve curled barbells that weigh more. “Then let’s go.”

Her smile becomes a grin as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Consider me happily along for the ride.”


MTLY-AN

Read Today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ED8AOX

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/MoreThanLoveYou

iBooks: https://apple.co/2CsJp3Z

Nook: http://bit.ly/2CtYxhu

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2C9ANLl

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2DRYaK5


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About Shayla:ShaylaBlack highres

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than sixty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

 

Connect with Shayla:

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ShaylaBlack/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Shayla_Black

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/shaylablacksb/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFM7RZF38CqBlr6YG3a4mRQ

https://www.shaylablack.com


N.M. Catalano Writer/Author

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