Category Archives: Excerpt

RELEASE DAY BLITZ ~ Disgraceful by Dee Palmer

 

 
 
 
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After the dust settles on the most erotic night in her life, a fantasy-fulfilling experience that not only brought Sam back to life, but also laid her brutal demons to rest. Her lust for life returns with her irrepressible passion and she embraces the changes in her life, almost without reservation…almost.

Jason Sinclair is just the Dominant to take a woman like Sam on. She’s fearless and feisty, but when she lost herself, he nearly lost her all over again. By giving her that one night, he became more than her savior…he became her everything. Opening her up to what the future could hold with a potential life of hedonistic heaven together.

Or could one fantasy have been too far? Can the two super kinky souls really settle down together?

As much as Sam dreams of a happily ever after, she’s much too realistic and can’t seem to shake the dark clouds of doubt rolling in. Is the promise of domestic bliss bound to be cursed from day one or does the King of Kink have more tricks up his sleeve?
 
 


 
 
One of his hands leaves me and grabs for something behind. The next moment he carefully lowers me onto a wide sheet of soft leather, my bottom is on the edge but the natural sway and instability of the swing has me falling onto my back. The leather supports my body perfectly but my legs are  dangling and my hands grip the chains for balance.
Jason scoops one leg into a padded loop also secured to the bolt in the ceiling and slides it to just above my knee. He repeats this with my other leg and makes sure the padded part of the strap is comfortable against my skin. He takes a moment standing between my legs spread wide and my body hoisted . His hand rests flat on my tummy and he pushes me away with a slight sway of the swing. I bump back against his thighs, his cock still straining at full attention.
“My turn to worship you Beautiful.” His voice is a deep rumble that I feel like wave of electricity, a charge that prickles my skin, as every single tiny hair on my body jumps to stand. He drops to his knees and blows a blast of cool air on my molten centre. I must be dripping…I know I am and the sexy sucking sounds he makes are evidence to the fact. I buck and grip the chains trying to ease the intensity of this amazing feeling building. His tongue is firm and relentless and when he circles my clit I cry out. I really wasn’t lying when I said I was ready to explode.
“Please..please may I come Sir?” My voice is strained through gritted teeth. Every muscle in my tummy clenches hard with anxiety that he might deny me. I’m getting better at orgasm denial since my torturous time in captivity but I will die if he doesn’t let me come.
“My tongue would be very disappointed if you don’t.” He takes the respite moment to wipe his glossy mouth on my thigh. I relax with obvious relief.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your tongue…Not when it’s been so very good.” My voice is a mix of excited anticipation and breathless relief. He grins and I drop my head back in a heavenly sigh at the long firm sweep of his tongue. He slides two fingers as deep as he can and curls and twirls a blissful rhythm that sends me cresting so damn high I am blinded by the stars dancing behind my lids.
“Oh God…please…Oh …ahhhhh!” I scream and cry out when he sucks down on my clit and I fall, free-fall, weightless and drifting on wave after wave of absolute pleasure. His glorious mouth buffets the waves and his tender lips kiss and rock me back to earth. My eyelids flutter open to see Jason towering dark and dominant, pressed at the apex of my thighs, his cock heavy in his hand. He sweeps the thick head along my slick folds gently teasing until I am fully sentient once more. “Mmm” I moan and arch into the delicious movement that instantly has a deep ache building in the base of my spine. The anticipation is killing me but it’s obviously too much for him too because with one hard thrust he pushes deep inside me. The momentum instantly has the swing lifting me from his cock but he grabs my thighs and pulls me roughly back.
Oh My Fucking God!
I would cry out but I have no breath to speak. He has pushed every bit from my body and filled it with his massive cock. He has never been so deep. I didn’t know it was possible to go that deep. Unbelievable pleasure paired with pain that dances on the edge of just too much, but is divine nonetheless, a tantalising tortuous paradox. He pauses on his downstroke and I lift my head to see concern and heat in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I can feel his thighs tremble against me as he fights to restrain himself. If this feels half as good for him as it does for me that is Herculean effort he is utilising, holding back like that.
“We have got to get one of these.” I bite my shit-eating grin back but laugh out when he drops his head and lets out an equally happy sound.
When he raises his head all humour has dissipated from his eyes and his face is a picture of fiery feral passion. I clench and brace, suck in and hold a bated breath waiting for him to unleash…euphoric heights and erotic hell. He bucks his hips and pulls out , thrusts hard again and again and again. Each time he plunges deep I swing away and he grabs to pull me back…hard, back to where I belong, thoroughly impaled and loving every single inch.
One of his hands that is gripping the top of my thigh moves to my breast bursting out of the confines of the corset. The rough jerking movements too much for the soft flesh. He squeezes, a rough, desperate grasp and pinches the nipple. He bends over to take it in his eager mouth. He never breaks his relentless pace. My hands rest on his sweat covered shoulders and I sweep them to his waist holding firmly for some elusive stability. He moves his hand to my throat and starts to apply pressure. My body reacts like an instant detonation, no countdown…no steady build, just fucking nuclear explosion. I gasp for air and come…hard.
I don’t remember much after that…his hand may have threaded around my neck. I think he maybe told me he loved me but he could’ve said Kangeroo’s make him horny for all I know. Because I am aware of nothing except him, deep inside me. Him holding me like I am his anchor to the earth, when the truth is he is mine.
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
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Dee Palmer hates talking about herself in the third person so I won’t. My husband had my iPod engraved one Christmas with ‘sing like no-one’s listening’ and I know my family actually wish they weren’t listening because I am, in fact, tone deaf but it doesn’t stop me and this gentle support has enabled me to fulfil a dream. This has been a truly brilliant experience, I wrote The Choices Trilogy back to back and released them this year just one month apart…Don’t you hate waiting for the next book in a series? The entire process has undoubtedly been made possible by my incredibly supportive family. I know this is very much an acknowledgment but I know I wouldn’t be writing even this single paragraph if it wasn’t for them so this is about who I am, I am because they let me be.
 
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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Ravishing Elizabeth (White Timber PAck) by J.J. Marstead

 
 
 

Elizabeth
 
Seventeen years of being a half-bred wolf shifter, I didn’t know how I would be able to adjust to my new life of being part of a pack. I have to admit I had my doubts and fears, but my wolf feels at ease, at home in the forest. Having the feel of soil under her pads makes her feel free. Plus, everyone is so nice. Yes, I feel right at home here, we both do.

A new pack isn’t the only thing my wolf and I have to adjust to. Fate blessed me with not one mate but with two that are destined to be mine. Can I live up to their expectations and be everything they need?

 Samuel

I never thought I would ever be in the presence of something so incredible or could feel the way I do. To have feelings for a wolf, to want to make her my soul-mate is against my better judgement and I know that. She’s not only amazing in wolf form, but her human
form is stunning as well. I want to believe she could love a monster like me, I have to believe it. But we are from two different worlds. Can I help her get past that and make her mine?

Caleb
 
I finally found my mate and she is more gorgeous than anything I could have dream of. I try to reign over my wolf knowing he’ll want to claim her as soon as he sees her, but he’s on edge knowing she will also belong to another. My wolf and I are both trying to act
complacent with the idea of having an outsider harbouring her heart, but I don’t want to hurt her no matter how much I want to rip him apart. In order to make our mate happy there will be some much needed adjustments to be made. Will she be happy and accept her rightful place as our mate?
 


 

 
 
I flick the light on and get dressed, I head downstairs to get a drink, just as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, there’s a knock at the front door. Who can that be? I place the water bottle on the counter; I make my way towards the front door to see who it can
be.  I twist the handle and open the door; his scent hits me before anything else, Samuel. 
 
My eyes widen as I take in his appearance, he’s breathtaking, with his dark hair and dark eyes luring me in as I stare openly at him, shaking myself out of the pull towards him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, poking my head outside to see if anyone can see that he’s here.
 
“Did anyone see you coming here?” I hope no one saw because it’ll only be a matter of time before the alpha and the pack get here if they know.

“I told you, I would come to you, and don’t worry no one has seen me, my little gem,” he says.
 
“I’ve been waiting for you for centuries my little wolf. There’s nothing in this world that will stop me from being with you.”

Just hearing him say that, makes my wolf yip happily inside. I move out of the doorway making room for him to enter, he stops and gives me a crooked grin as he holds onto the door frame. I look at him puzzled and he chuckles.

“You need to invite me in.”
 
Well, I wasn’t expecting that, guess something’s are true about vampires.

“Come in, Samuel,” my voice is husky. I stare at him crossing the threshold. As soon as his feet step inside the house, he’s in front of me, gazing down at me like I’m his last cool drink of water, well in this case blood. He moves so fast I didn’t even get a chance to react.
 
He places his hand under my chin, slowly lifting my head up. He leans down and kisses me softly at first but then he applies more pressure. I moan into the kiss, his tongue probing into my mouth, my tongue tangling with his. I run my tongue down his fang, and he groans out shifting himself against me. I feel his erection through his pants, gasping as he grinds himself into me, he runs and slams the front door shut, and then comes back to me lifting me up off of my feet, my legs wrap around his hips, and he races up the stairs quickly.



 
 
J.J. Marstead lives in a quiet little town in Quebec, Canada. 
She is originally from a small Island in Canada called ‘Prince Edward Island’.
J.J. Marstead is the pen name; she wanted to have a pen name because it seemed pretty awesome.
 
Her real name is Jessica Martell, and no she is not ashamed of writing.
She loves to read and now she has taking up writing as a new adventure. 
She’s a stay at home mom, so she has plenty of time to think of naughty things to write.
Married to the love of her life of nine years, they have a lovely daughter who is seven years old, and they have two dogs, full house.

Follow J.J. on Facebook



 

HOSTED BY:

RELEASE BLITZ ~ For Her Protection by Amber Bardan

 
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You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.


Yet pleasure seems to be the one and only thing on Charlize’s mind the moment Connor steamrolls into her life. Desperate to save her family company, prove she’s more than a pretty face and worthy of being CEO, pleasure is a distraction she can’t afford.

She doesn’t want a bodyguard, especially not one whose caveman heroics kick her libido into hyperdrive. Surrounded by enemies, she’s not sure if Connor is a man she can trust.

Connor knows better than to get personal with clients. Yet there couldn’t be anything more personal about his feelings for Charlize. He’ll win her trust, preferably one orgasm at a time.

With Connor in her office, her home, driving her to sweet, merciless distraction, there’s only so long Charlize can resist his sexy, dominant brand of protection.
 


 
Her gaze snapped to his and her golden-amber eyes spat at him. “Covert security?”
For a person he’d witnessed every day since she’d been his sole job and purpose, be nothing but warm and approachable, the way she stalked towards him bristled with hostility.
“How much of that involves reporting back to my Uncle?”
Was that any way to approach a man who’d she’d begged for a kiss?
He held back the smirk that was sure to be poorly received. “Frank Halifax takes my report on your welfare every Monday morning.”
“And what exactly did this morning’s report include?” Her voice dropped and octave, and she inched closer. “Did you tell my uncle you’d been kissing your client?”
Heat rose into his chest. That damned kiss. One he never should have given in to. One he’d justified by telling himself giving in was less likely to blow his cover than turning away a woman he’d been powerlessly ogling.
Truth was he hadn’t been able to resist.
Her thick, black lashes fluttered, softly, shrewdly in a way that sent a thrill smacking through him. In the last month he’d witnessed the ready smile she had for the waitress who served her morning coffee, the hug she gifted to the front desk receptionist on her way in, the nervous little jig she did when he watched her from the security room, right before she had a press conference—he’d never seen her sly like this.
It made him want to find out what else he’d missed from a distance.
“My client pleaded to be kissed.”
“So you did it for your job?” Her chest heaved. Fury, blasted from her gaze, but there in the vulnerable twist of her mouth was something else, an insecurity.
How could she think after a kiss so raw, that it could be contrived?
He took a step toward her, well aware she’d have to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “As I asked on Friday, do I look like a gigolo to you?”
“I don’t know what you are.” She stumbled back, out of reach. “But you are fired.”
He stared at her. She looked so determined. Too bad he wasn’t hers to fire.
“I can’t trust someone who’s spied on me. If they want me to have a bodyguard—if they’re going to blackmail me into having one, then it’ll be someone of my own choosing.” She backed up again. “And I’ll choose a woman for the job so there’s no confusion.”
“There’s just one problem with that.”
Her eyes flared. Perfect. A tremor of excitement told him she was going to fight him tooth and nail.
And they were both going to love it.
He leaned closer and whispered. “I don’t work for you.”
“If you work for Halifax, then I can fire you.” She smiled over her small white teeth.
Yeah, this girl wanted to fight. Ached for it. He could smell it in the tension of her muscles. The way she jumped at the opening he’d given her.
“My exclusive three month contract has been signed by the CEO.” He watched her expression flicker. “Paid in full. Whether you like it or not, for the next two months you’re mine.”
Her tongue darted out, and her breaths paused. Did she like that?
Did she like the idea of being his?
“Oh, Mr. Crowe.” She shook her head, and the cunning in the movement slayed him. “You’re going to have a hard time making that happen.”
“It’s going to happen, Charlie.” He stepped closer, then closer again. “So I’ll give you this one warning.”
Her heel bumped the wall off window, and her palms flattened behind her on the glass.
“I don’t mind a fight, so go on ahead and resist.” He bent until his mouth came level with the small white shell of her ear. “Because the more you do the harder I’m going to bring it. It’s up to you how you want to do this.”
She grabbed his shoulder, then her mouth was against his ear. “You’d better bring it because I’m going to give you hell.”
He chuckled. “Then the consequence for resistance will be on you.”
 


 

 


 

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

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

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

Author Links
 

 
 

 


 

EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Tough Luck by Liv Morris

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Excerpt

Amelia and I move farther into my hotel room. She claims we need to go over something for tomorrow’s Beauty and The Baller show, but we said good night twenty minutes ago. If work is an excuse for her being here after hours, we’re in unchartered territory.  

“You caught me just getting out of the shower.” Amelia’s gaze trails over my bare abs, then down to the towel wrapped around my hips. “Better turn around, unless you want an eyeful.” To my surprise, she moves closer instead of turning away.

“Seen one. Seen ’em all,” she singsongs, looking at me with a gleam in her eyes.

“Right,” I scoff, knowing she’ll be changing her mind about that soon. “Okay, you’ve been warned.” I drop the towel, letting it fall to the floor. When she gasps, I smile and shake my head. Just like I thought.

“Wow. You’re…” Amelia exclaims while staring at my dick with wide eyes.

“Like a horse.” I leave out the word “hung” as drool forms at the corner of her open mouth. 

“I’ve seen bigger.” She narrows her eyes, but they travel downward, landing on my semi-hard salute. She licks her lips and bites down on the plump lower one.

“I bet parts of me are more than you can handle,” I tease, pointing downward to the goods.

“Don’t be silly, Bryce. I’m an overachiever.” Her chin tilts up in defiance, but it sounds like she wants to prove me wrong. After all, being an overachiever requires taking on a big task and completing it.

I watch the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Add her darkened green eyes, and it sums up to one thing: she wants me too, but will she admit it?

God knows I can’t fight what I feel for her anymore, especially with her standing before me in a tight black dress, her blond hair spreading over a killer rack. Yeah, the game’s over for me—and she won.

I don’t just want her. I crave her.

You loved Hard Luck…

Are you ready to meet another Luck brother?

From USA Today Bestselling author Liv Morris

comes a sexy standalone romcom

Tough Luck releases on December 8th!  

Add to your TBR

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Blurb

There’s one rule in reporting: don’t ever fall in love…

When Amelia Adams tells everyone my days as Chicago’s quarterback are over, I vow never to give her another minute of my time—until the team owner sees an empty stadium, and forces us together on a reality show in hopes of filling the seats.

When Bryce Luck becomes my assignment, I swear his brown eyes and dimpled smile won’t make my knees weak—that I’ll keep a professional boundary. But I can’t fight this attraction, especially when he whispers sweet nothings in my ear and promises to do a million dirty things to me when the cameras stop rolling.

When the show is over, and the game’s been played, will our love become a reality? Or are we just out of luck?

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Hard Luck (Book One) is NOW ON SALE for ONLY $0.99
&  FREE ON Kindle Unlimited!

Hard Luck: A Romantic Comedy (The Luck Brothers) by [Morris, Liv]

Amazon US: 

Amazon UK: 


About the Author:liv-morris-bio

USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris, was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she’s planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads


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FIRST LOOK ~ Trophy Wife by Noelle Adams

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Celebrate the release of Trophy Wife by Noelle Adams with an exclusive First Look!

 

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Giveaway:

1 grand prize winners will receive a $50 Amazon Gift Card!

5 runner-ups will receive an eBook of choice from Noelle’s backlist!

 

Rafflecopter link: 

 



Title: Trophy Wife

Author: Noelle Adams

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 6, 2016

 

Synopsis:

From the New York Times bestselling author of Fooling Around comes a steamy novel about a pampered princess who’s starting over—and the hot guy next door who knows exactly how to melt that tiara right off.

Alison Davies used to just be a trophy wife. Now she’s just flat broke. Thanks to an ironclad prenup, she’s worse off than she was before the day she rushed down the aisle with a wealthy jerk eight years ago. After her steep fall from riches to rags, Alison refuses to shackle herself to any man who treats her like a possession—no matter how good he looks in a pair of well-worn jeans, or how his muscles ripple while he’s carrying her couch.

Underneath his rugged exterior, Rob West is a gentleman. So when he sees his beautiful new neighbor moving in, he’s going to help her out no matter how loudly she protests. In fact, Alison’s determination to go it alone just strengthens his resolve—and his desire to find out what makes her tick. But after one spur-of-the-moment tumble in the sheets, it’s clear that their connection goes way deeper. And that Rob won’t be happy until Alison surrenders to the passion they share.


Find out more at:
Amazon / B&N / iBooks / Kobo


Excerpt from Trophy Wife:

“But you seem so strong and…and in control.”

Rob relaxed, feeling a lot better at her words. “Uh, thanks, but I haven’t always felt this way.”

“What did you do to feel in control again?” She seemed to really want to know, really want him to help her.

There was nothing he could tell her but the truth. “You just make a decision to stay the person you’ve always been, the person you really are.”

She dropped her eyes and let out a long breath. “I’m not sure I even know how to do that.” She sounded defeated.

He couldn’t stand for her to feel that way—not when she was obviously so brave and so resilient. He reached out to tilt her face up so she was meeting his eyes again. “Yes, you do. Look at what you’ve already done—in just one week. I don’t think you have any idea how much you can do.”

Her face melted. It was the only way to describe it. She looked grateful and warm and tender, and Rob couldn’t resist it.

He leaned forward, tilting his head down until he could meet her lips with his.

He wasn’t sure how she would respond, so he was prepared to pull back immediately. But she gave a little hitch of breath and one of her hands moved up to his shoulder. His body starting to throb with excitement, he deepened the kiss, leaning into it, letting his tongue tease the line of her lips.

She was soft and warm and responsive, and her mouth parted for his as she adjusted to get closer to him. Her other hand moved to tangle in his hair.

Both of them were dirty and sweaty, but it just didn’t matter. Rob was completely into the kiss, lost in the feeling and sensations and the hot sweetness she was so eagerly offering him.

It went on long enough for his body to respond, and the pulsing of his groin was a painful sort of pleasure. She was making little whimpering noises and fisting her hand in his hair, and he suddenly realized he’d better pull back or he was going to take her right there on the dirt of her backyard.

With effort, he released her and leaned back, willing his arousal to back down a little. Allison was coming off of a difficult divorce. She wasn’t likely to want to jump into bed with a guy she’d known for just a week.

Allison’s cheeks were deeply flushed, and she was panting as she stared at him.

They just looked at each other for a long time, during which Rob continued to fight a battle with his body not to pull her back into his arms.

“I…” Allison began at last. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I know.” His voice sounded too thick, so he cleared his throat. “I…” He wasn’t going to apologize. He wasn’t the least bit sorry. He had no idea what else to say, though.

Allison evidently did know. She rubbed her face and took a few deep breaths. “It was…it was a good kiss, but I’m not…I’m not looking for a relationship.”

The excitement in his chest dropped in an instant with a painful thud.


About Noelle Adams:

Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she reads any book she can get her hands on and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances.

If you’d like to contact Noelle, please contact her at noelle.s.adams@gmail.com. Or connect with her on TwitterFacebook, and Goodreads.


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BOOK TOUR ~ Life As We Know It by JD Hollyfield

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Life As We Know It

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by J.D. Hollyfield

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Amazon US: 

Amazon UK: 

iBooks: 


**More retailers to follow**


Blurb

Life has not been easy for Penelope Summers. Specifically, the last month, when her high-profile boyfriend dumped her, her indecent exposure record surfaced, and her favorite thing in the world, tequila, failed her.

Good thing for Penelope, she has her best friend to pick her up, and take her on the vacation of a lifetime. A seven-day cruise that will change the direction of her downward spiral. But will that spiral shift in the direction Penelope needs? Or will it throw her into a bigger whirlwind of trouble?

With Reckless Abandon as her motto, tequila as her wingman, and a hot one-night stand as her much needed reward, will the tables finally turn for Penelope, or will life as she knows it continue to fail her?

Sometimes you just have to ride the wave of crazy to find out.


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About the Authorj-d-hollyfield

Creative designer, mother, wife, writer, part time superhero…

J.D. Hollyfield is a creative designer by day and superhero by night. When she is not trying to save the world one happy ending at a time, she enjoys the snuggles of her husband, son and three doxies. With her love for romance, and head full of book boyfriends, she was inspired to test her creative abilities and bring her own story to life.

Life in a Rut, Love not Included is her Debut Novel. J.D. Hollyfield lives in the Midwest, and is currently at work on blowing the minds of readers, with the additions to the Love not Included series, along with her charm, humor and HEA’s.

STALK J.D.: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest |  Goodreads

 


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Rafflecopter link: 


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RELEASE BLITZ ~ Collecting the Pieces by L.A. Fiore

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
Title: Collecting the Pieces
Author: L.A. Fiore

 

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 15, 2016

 
 
Blurb
At fifteen I fell in love. His name was Jake Stephens and he took the abandoned, lonely girl I had been and made me whole. His love was a pure and unconditional love that made every day better than the last…a fairy tale of my very own. But this story isn’t about Jake. It’s about Abel Madden; the man I meet after the fairy tale goes to hell. A cocky, arrogant man who says what he wants, does as he pleases, and makes no excuses for it. He irritates me—downright pisses me off at times—but he also brings me back to life.

My name is Sidney Ellis and this is my story of finding love twice—the first when I needed it most and the second when I never saw it coming.

 

 


Purchase Links

AMAZON: US / UK
B&N / KOBO


 


Excerpt

Collecting the Pieces

Text copyright © 2016, L.A. Fiore My stomach felt all funny looking at Abel and since my brain was soaked in alcohol none of my mental roadblocks went up. The man really was something else even being rude and cocky. My fingers itched to touch his beard and to trace his lips.

“How’s the arm?”

“Ten stitches.”

“Jesus Christ.” That quickly his demeanor changed to one of incredulity and, I’m pretty sure, disgust. “You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy.”

“What the fuck? You’re a doctor and you’re mixing pain meds and alcohol?”

I snorted, an unattractive sound yes, but it couldn’t be helped. “You’re an ass. You know that, right?”

Surprise, it was quick, but I definitely saw it rolling over his face. “And you’re an idiot. What kind of VMD are you?”

Even drunk, my blood boiled. Prick. “What makes you think I’m mixing drugs and alcohol?”

He glanced at my arm. “Ten stitches.”

“Not that it is any of your business, but I’m not on pain meds. Thank you so much for your concern though.”

It wasn’t surprise this time, but something else flashed in those unusual eyes before he said, “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“You don’t need to do that, figure me out. Every time I’m near you I want to run away screaming.” Or jump you and kiss that damn smirk off your face. “I irritate you just as much, so focus your energies on the countless women in town who actually want your company.”

“See, now that just sounds like a challenge.”

“Seriously. Did you bang your head recently? You might be suffering from brain trauma.”

He had the oddest expression on his face and then that head dipped back and he roared with laughter. “You have a sense of humor too.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

This only made him laugh harder.

My phone buzzed. Rylee was out front. “I’ve got to go.”

“See you around, Doc.”

“Is that threat?”

“No, babe, a promise.”

“Fabulous.” 

He was still laughing when the door closed behind me.

 


 
 

 


Author Bio
 
 
L.A. Fiore is the author of several books including: Beautifully Damaged, Beautifully Forgotten, Beautifully Decadent, His Light in the Dark and A Glimpse of the Dream. She’s also the social secretary for her two children, a tamer of ill-mannered cats, the companion to one awesome dog and married to her best friend. She likes her wine red, her shrimp chilled and her social gatherings small and intimate.
 
Author Links
 

CHAPTER REVEAL ~ Hail Mary by Nicola Rendell

 

 
 
 
 
Coming November 28th
 
 
 
 
 
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At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.

Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.

Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.

But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”

In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.

Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.

And throws their lives into total chaos.

***

To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.

 
 
 

 
 
Chapter 1

Jimmy


She’s got a hell of a left hook, and her jab is no joke either. It’s hard to tell what she really looks like, with the big blue rubber mouth guard between her teeth and the black padded headgear covering her jaw and cheeks. But I know this: I want to get my hands on that body. Her tight pink tee is low cut and skin tight, and across her breasts are the words: “NOBODY’S PUSSYCAT.”
A cold draft blows in from the window, making goosebumps ripple up her arms. A thin stream of sweat runs down into her cleavage, and then I watch her nipples tighten. Christ. With little bounces, she heads back to her corner and bends over for her water bottle. Stretchy black leggings and no panty line.
Fuuuuuck.
The buzzer dings and we square up. She holds her gloves up to her face, ready to go. They’re bubblegum pink with white cuffs; the girliest weapons I’ve ever seen.
But never mind the gloves. It’s those eyes that have me. Shit, those eyes. This crazy deep green. Packers’ green. Jets’ green. Green like cash. Green that could make a guy go right out of his mind.
Pow goes a jab into my stomach and I double over, tasting my Gatorade from an hour ago. Before I can breathe, before I can even get up my gloves to slow her down, she pelts me hard with a cross to my sternum that knocks the wind straight out of me. I gasp for air and stagger back into the ropes.
“Jesus Christ,” I moan. “Who are you?”
Her eyes light up in this smile. This beautiful fucking smile that I feel way down inside. Then she bounces on her toes and smacks her gloves together out in front of her. Whap, whap. “I’m Mary!” she says around her mouth guard. “And you’re slow!”
Cute. But, yeah…no. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody. I hurl myself off the ropes, colliding with her in the center of the ring, skin against skin now. I press into her sexy shoulder with my bicep, feeling the sweat between us. She nails me in the gut again; a solid, low-slung straight, and I think, I can’ t hit a girl, can I?
No. Fuck, no.
So I stretch my arm between us, the padding of my glove holding her steady right below her collarbone. She swings for me but I’m a foot taller and she doesn’t stand a chance. “Jerk!”
Obviously.
But on the upside, now I can really get a good look at her the way I want to; close up, but not so close that she’s pummeling me. Her legs are solid and I can even see that little curve of her hipbones barely showing through her leggings. I let my eyes follow the line of sweat to her inner thighs, to that wet, hot place where everything comes together. Fuck. I want my hands on that place. I want to feel the softness and the strength. I want to know the taste of that sweat. The way that softness gives under my tongue.
Ding goes the buzzer. I push her away, padded knuckles to her shoulder. She spins and gets into her corner, so I do the same.
I grab my water bottle and squirt it into my mouth, watching her all the time. She’s fucking beautiful, this one. Fucking gorgeous. The woman of dreams. Of fantasies.
From a pink Nalgene, she takes one big gulp, two, and a little water dribbles down her lips, rolling in drops down her throat. Her eyes stay right on mine. Her chest heaves. Her eyes flash. Her lips tighten. And that’s when it happens. She peels off her T-shirt and tosses it to the floor so that the only word showing is PUSSY.
Ding.
Her body is fucking perfect. I mean perfect. I moan into my mouth guard and I look her up and down. Lean but not thin. Sexy and strong. A fighter’s body. A woman’s body. A body strong enough to take everything I want to give it. And then some.
She turns to set down her water bottle, bending at the waist. And that’s when I see it. The tattoo. It’s a ribbon of black lace that runs in a beautiful, feminine line down her back from right shoulder to left hip, curving down into her pants. Tough as hell, pretty as can be. And with the sexiest tattoo I’ve ever seen in my life.
Stick a motherfucking fork in me. I’m done.
“Nice ink,” I tell her as we square up again.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning in to my shoulder.
“I’ve never seen one like it.” I hook my arm around her again and pull her in. I smell something familiar. I can’t place it. She slips free and moves behind me. For one second, all I can hear is her shoes on the mats.
“I rebelled when I turned 30. It was either this or a tramp stamp.”
“Of what?” I pivot so my face is close against hers.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” She smiles tight around the mouth guard. Her glove comes through the air, cutting through the noise of the gym. Whooosh.
I get my right hand up just in time to block her with my glove. The impact rolls down my forearm like I’m nothing but Jell-O.
She lets another jab fly but misses me—barely—and I slip around behind her. The hair at the nape of her neck is curly and wet, and a long dark braid runs down her back. That strip of wet fabric at the top of her pants, dark with sweat. “Why are we fighting?” I growl as I get closer. “Why aren’t we out drinking? Making trouble? Fucking around? Let me take you out.”
She spins to face me, her eyes wide open, surprised. “You wanna drink with me?”
“Hell yes, I do. And a lot of other things.”
“You want me? Fight me.” She fires her bubblegum pink cannons at my stomach with a one-two combination that makes me feel like I’m nothing but a 283-pound heavy bag.
I try to get in a left cross, but she’s way faster than I am and comes up from under with a hook straight out of Manila.
That one got me in my brainpan, in my marrow. “Fuck that,” I snarl.
“Atta boy!”
No way. Nobody atta boys me. I’m Jimmy Goddamned Falconi. I’m nobody’s boy. Never.
“Atta girl.” I nudge her in the shoulder with my chest.
Around her guard, she says, “You fight like you’re in molasses. But you’re strong. You some kind of athlete?”
At first, I’m about to laugh. For about one second, I think I might be on Candid Camera or something. I mean, I can’t walk to the bathroom on an airplane without someone asking me to sign a cocktail napkin. I can’t get through Costco without someone asking me to sign their shopping list. Some kind of athlete?
I’m Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi. Quarterback for the Chicago Goddamned Bears. I’m somebody.
But there’s zero recognition in her eyes. No flicker of the fangirl. No sign she’s playing it cool either. To her, I’m just a guy getting his ass kicked by a girl in pink gloves.
“Hello?” She presses into my chin with a slow uppercut from the right.
I snap out of it. I don’t even know how to answer her. I play quarterback for the Bears. Ever heard of them? Or maybe, Ever heard of football? America’s Game? Fuck. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I’ve never had to explain it. People just know. “Yeah, I like to work out.”
“Then act like it,” she says, all piss and vinegar, and puts her guard back in her mouth. Wham comes that jab into my gut. Pow goes the straight to my pecs. I loop one arm around her and pull her body in close, hooking the back of her neck with the crook of my elbow. I pull her closer, tighter, both arms around her, to get a feel for her…but also to give myself a goddamned break.
She struggles a little, trying to squirm free, but I see the smile on her face, the crinkle of the skin at her eyes.
I pull her head closer to mine. I must be twice her weight; no way is she going to get free now. We are the welterweight and the super heavyweight. Wrong class totally. But then she wedges her forehead in against my chest. I watch her wind up, her biceps flexing, and, boom-boom-boom.
Every time she connects, I lose a little more air and groan, “Fuck-fuck-fuck!”
“Atta boy!”
Fuck. That.
So I keep her pinned and she starts fighting harder, which makes me want to hang on to her more. I press my nose against her head. In her thick brown hair, I can smell her shampoo, her conditioner. Coconut.
While I’m distracted by that smell, thinking of sunscreen and ukulele music and drinks with umbrellas and her on a beach, she slips out from under my arms and pops up in my face.
Well, shit.
“What, you chicken? Gonna hit me back? Or do you want to dance around for an hour or two? Because I can totally do that. I just have to go home to feed the dog.” Whap-whap go her padded fists.
Oh no, no way. No way am I going to let a pretty little thing talk to me like that. I sniff hard and man up.
I give her a jab. A hook. A cross.
And she blocks me every damned time. Blocks me like she’s fought me before, or like she’s known all along what I’ll do when it comes down to it.
Fucking wax-on-wax off, one-two-three.
Pow-pow go her gloves into my side, and fuck. I think I feel those it in my spleen. Enough. Enough. Anger boils up through me like cheap vodka after a long night.
I’m Jimmy Falconi. And I’m gonna make this girl know my name.
I crack my neck side to side and get serious. I suck air through the holes in my mouth guard and get my fists up. I edge her into the corner and those eyes flash at me. She’s sweating hard and her mascara is smudged. Her hair is mussed and her skin is slick. It makes her look dangerous. Angry. I’d like to smudge that mascara a little more. In bed. Immediately.
But first, I’m going to show her who’s boss.
The more she works herself up, the hotter she gets. That’s when something catches my eye. There’s something written on the white cuffs of her gloves. All fuzzy, written in black marker:
On the right glove: HERE COMES…
On the left:…TROUBLE!
Whomp.
She nails me in the jaw with a haymaker, and my molars shake. “Come the fuck on,” I growl back at her, with my glove pressed to the side of my face.
She smacks her gloves together, and lowers her chin. “Are we sparring or chatting? Hit me!” Bounce, bounce, bounce. Butterfly, bee. Whap, whap, whap. “I’m not going to break!”
I work my jaw open and closed a few times thinking, Okay. Fine. Fine. I didn’t think it was going to go like this, but I can roll with a hostile defense, sure. Wouldn’t be the first time. I give her the old elevator stare—up, down, up again—and get stuck on her belly button for a little too long. But then I get a game plan together. I figure I can hit her in the stomach. Not too hard, not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to let her know who’s in charge here.
Which would be me. Me, pussycat. Me.
Nudging the edge of her shoulder with my glove, I drive her backwards. Our eyes lock and I get this…this…prickle all through me.
This woman.
This one. Right here.
I want her. So fucking bad.
The fucking gym with its ten phones playing mariachi goes silent. The guys by the cooler egging her on go silent. It’s just her and me and the sweat dripping between us. Soft skin, sparkling eyes. She smells like a summer day and she’s looking at me in a way that no woman has ever looked at me. Ever.
Like she’s gonna own me and she knows it.
Which is bullshit.
She gives me a little lift of her chin and tightens her lips around the guard. She wipes her nose with her glove and then lowers her head. “Come on! You going to fight or are you just going to screw around?”
With my left hand, I jab her softly in the stomach. With the right, a play-hook to the jaw. I raise her chin on my glove so her eyes come up to mine. Then I pull her close, my arm around the back of her neck again. “You wanna screw around?” I say into her ear.
Bam, another hit to the stomach. “I haven’t even gotten started,” she answers.
Fuck it.
She wants to play? Fucking fine. I’ll play. I’ll play hard. I square up. But she gives me this eye. This champion eye. A winner’s eye. Cocky like no eyes I’ve ever seen before. Tom Brady doesn’t have anything on this kind of cocky right here. My luck, this girl’s some UFC champion. Christ.
But I can take her. Yeah, I sure fucking can.
Probably.
I decide on a straight jab; a no-fail straight jab that I plan just hard enough to send her reeling but not hurt her, not actually injure her. I know the punch. It works in bar fights and brawls on the field. An all-American move. As I wind up, everything slows down. I’m 6’6”, 283 pounds, and I throw a football for a living. When I wind up, I wind up. As I do, she ducks, fast as fucking lightning. Greased. Elegant. Lethal. So as my arm is powering through the air, as my momentum gets caught behind 12-ounce training gloves, she pops back up like a goddamned whack-a-mole.
Those eyes flash again and she smiles so hard I can see her dimples.
Dimples. Oh, fuck.
I watch her shoulder tighten, her tricep pucker, and that’s when she lets me have it for real.
The punch comes from left to right, blocking out my view of everything. I don’t see the Mexican flag on the wall. I don’t see the graffiti mural over the windows. Nope. The universe turns bubblegum pink.
It doesn’t hurt, not at first, and as I’m flying backwards, airborne, I have just enough time to think to myself, I wonder if this is what a knockout punch feels like…
Before everything flickers to black.
  


 
 
 
 


 
 
 


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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.
 
 
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RELEASE BLAST ~ My Father’s Best Friend by Fiona Davenport

 

My Father’s Best Friend
Fiona Davenport

 

Genre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance

 

*Standalone*

 

 
BUY LINKS
 
 

*Available on Kindle Unlimited*




 BLURB:

When Ethan Parker’s investigation leads him to Delilah Brooks, he hopes he’s finally found his best friend’s long-lost daughter. What he wasn’t expecting was to want her for himself—with an intensity that drives him to get her pregnant before her father finds out about the two of them.
Delilah falls hard and fast for Ethan. But she isn’t sure what to think when he confesses his connection to the father she’s never met. Or how her father is going to react when he learns she’s having his best friend’s baby.


 
 


 

EXCERPT

I stood abruptly and picked up her hands, lifting her to her feet as well. “C’mon, baby girl. We need to go.” I tossed some money on the table and led her from the restaurant, ignoring her crestfallen expression.
Outside, I stepped off of the curb and raised a hand, hailing a cab. It zoomed up next to us and screeched to a halt. “Midtown Hilton,” I barked after we were both securely inside.
Twisting my upper body, I grabbed her around the waist and dragged her over until she was straddling me. She gasped as she settled on my lap, clearly feeling my physical reaction to her as it pressed against the heat of her pussy. There was nothing left for me to hold onto, I’d thrown caution and logic out the window. I was going to get inside her that night or I was pretty sure I would fucking die.

Palming her cheeks, I looked straight into her blue pools. “You are too young, too beautiful, and I’m nowhere near good enough for you. But fuck, Lilah, I can’t resist you.” Then I slammed my mouth down over hers.


 
 
 

 


 
OTHER BOOKS BY FIONA DAVENPORT

**All books available on Kindle Unlimited**



RISQUE CONTRACTS SERIES 

Penalty Clause
 

Contingency Plan

 

Fraternization Rule

 

Risqué Contracts Series Box Set

Penalty Clause, Contingency Plan & Fraternization Rule
 

Amazon UK → http://amzn.to/1UDKbNL


YEAH, BABY SERIES

Baby, You’re Mine
 

 

Baby Steps

 

Baby, Don’t Go

 

Yeah, Baby Series Box Set

Baby, You’re Mine, Baby Steps & Baby, Don’t Go
 

 
Dance With Me, Baby
A Yeah, Baby Novella
 
I’m Yours, Baby
A Yeah, Baby Novella
 
Brief Me, Baby
A Yeah, Baby Novella
 

SEX & VOWS SERIES

 Until Death Do We Part

 
For You, I Will
 

Mafia Ties Series

Nic & Anna’s Story
 

Deception

 

Danger

 

Devotion


Mafia Ties

Brandon & Carly’s Story
 

Pursuit

 

Power

 

 
Passion

Amazon US → http://amzn.to/29QYAqc
Amazon US → http://amzn.to/29DfOBK 



 
 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hello! My name is Fiona Davenport and I’m a smutoholic. I’ve been reading raunchy romance novels since… well, forever and a day ago it seems. And now I get to write sexy stories and share them with others who are like me and enjoy their books on the steamier side. Fiona Davenport is my super-secret alias, which is kind of awesome since I’ve always wanted one.

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BLOG TOUR ~ Tru Blue by Melissa Foster

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Synopsis

Imagine falling in love with a man, then finding out he was a killer…

TRU BLUE is a sexy, dark stand-alone novel written in the same loving, raw, and emotional voice romance readers have come to love, and the deeply emotional literary prose women’s fiction readers have come to expect, from New York Times & USA Today bestselling, award-winning author Melissa Foster.

He wore the skin of a killer, and bore the heart of a lover…

There’s nothing Truman Gritt won’t do to protect his family–Including spending years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. When he’s finally released, the life he knew is turned upside down by his mother’s overdose, and Truman steps in to raise the children she’s left behind. Truman’s hard, he’s secretive, and he’s trying to save a brother who’s even more broken than he is. He’s never needed help in his life, and when beautiful Gemma Wright tries to step in, he’s less than accepting. But Gemma has a way of slithering into people’s lives and eventually she pierces through his ironclad heart. When Truman’s dark past collides with his future, his loyalties will be tested, and he’ll be faced with his toughest decision yet.


“Several emotional topics — such as drug addiction, abandonment, infertility and unexpectedly becoming a parent — are easily woven together without making the story feel crowded or overdone. Foster writes exceptional characters that keep readers thinking long after the book is finished… The dynamic members of the Whiskey family are the foundation that holds the group together and they are exactly the reason we’re taught not to judge. Let’s hope we hear more from all of them!” RT Book Reviews

“Sexy and Heartbreaking….I simply adored this beautifully written romance.” Tasty Book PR

“Ms. Foster, went for the gut with Truman and Gemma. Tru Blue is more than a romance, it is a story of love, a story of hope and a story of courage. 10 + stars.” Night Owl Reviews

“With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!” New York Times Bestseller Julie Kenner

“Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!” New York Times Bestseller Lauren Blakely

“You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that’s fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won’t want to stop reading. Every book’s a winner!” NYT Bestselling Author Brenda Novak

 


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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

I have to say that I loved Tru Blue…… This is the first book by Melissa Foster that I’ve read but I’ll definitely be going back to read The Bradens @ Peaceful Harbor series – and that’s just to start with.

Truman and Gemma’s story was really sweet. There was a little angst but it was minimal and on the whole read was easy, enjoyable, sexy and heartwarming.

Tru didn’t have the best life growing up (that’s an understatement really) but he still fought hard for his family and tried to live the best life he could. That was such a great trait, that after all the crap he’d experienced, time he’d lost and the sacrifices he’d made, he was still focused on those he loved (both family by blood and of choice)
Gemma grew up in a very different environment from Truman but didn’t fare much better when it came to being loved and cared for – her mother didn’t give her the time of day and she fought to make her own way in life. This gave them a connection and helped them understand each other from the beginning.

Their initial meeting was fun, though maybe not for our hero!! Gemma at first was a little judgmental and kinda jumped to conclusions about people, without really being too aware of it! That was probably the main issue I had with her initially but she redeemed herself when it came to Truman and everything that came after!

Yeah, this book was super-sweet, it was nigh on ‘insta-love’ (but not quite) and come the end of the book things wrapped up pretty easily but I was so happy with how things turned out for our couple that none of this put me off! Family was a huge part of the tale, as was not being too proud or stubborn to ask for and accept help. We met so many supporting characters and I can’t wait to find out their own stories.

Well written, engaging, smokin’ hot and packed with emotion, I’m giving Tru Blu 4.5 sweet stars!


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Excerpt

TRUMAN GRITT LOCKED the door to Whiskey Automotive and stepped into the stormy September night. Sheets of rain blurred his vision, instantly drenching his jeans and T-shirt. A slow smile crept across his face as he tipped his chin up, soaking in the shower of freedom. He made his way around the dark building and climbed the wooden stairs to the deck outside his apartment. He could have used the interior door, but after being behind bars for six long years, Truman took advantage of the small pleasures he’d missed out on, like determining his own schedule, deciding when to eat and drink, and standing in the f**king rain if he wanted to. He leaned on the rough wooden railing, ignoring the splinters of wood piercing his tattooed forearms, squinted against the wetness, and scanned the cars in the junkyard they used for parts—and he used to rid himself of frustrations. He rested his leather boot on the metal box where he kept his painting supplies. Truman didn’t have much—his old extended-cab truck, which his friend Bear Whiskey had held on to for him while he was in prison, this apartment, and a solid job, both of which were compliments of the Whiskey family. The only family he had anymore.
Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own f**ked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.
“F**k,” he muttered, debating letting the call go to voicemail, but six months of silence from his brother was a long time. Rain pelleted his back as he pressed his palm to the door to steady himself. The ringing stopped, and he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d trapped inside. The phone rang again, and he froze.
He’d just freed himself from the dredges of hell that he’d been thrown into in an effort to save his brother. He didn’t need to get wrapped up in whatever mess the drug-addicted fool had gotten himself into. The call went to voicemail, and Truman eyed the metal box containing his painting supplies. Breathing like he’d been in a fight, he wished he could paint the frustration out of his head. When the phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, the third time since he was released from prison six months ago, he reluctantly answered.
“Quincy.” He hated the way his brother’s name came out sounding like the enemy. Quincy had been just a kid when Truman went to prison. Heavy breathing filled the airwaves. The hairs on Truman’s forearms and neck stood on end. He knew fear when he heard it. He could practically taste it as he ground his teeth together.
“I need you,” his brother’s tortured voice implored.
Need me? Truman had hunted down his brother after he was released from prison, and when he’d finally found him, Quincy was so high on crack he was nearly incoherent—but it didn’t take much for f**k off to come through loud and clear. What Quincy needed was rehab, but Truman knew from his tone that wasn’t the point of the call.
Before he could respond, his brother croaked out, “It’s Mom. She’s really bad.”

 



AboutTheAuthor

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Melissa Foster
is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance and new adult romance, contemporary women’s fiction, suspense, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café and Fostering Success. When she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success. Melissa has been published in Calgary’s Child Magazine, the Huffington Post, and Women Business Owners magazine.

Melissa hosts an Aspiring Authors contest for children and has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Melissa lives in Maryland with her family.

Visit Melissa on social media. Melissa enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups, and welcomes an invitation to your event.

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