I’m a heroin addict. A junkie. A whore. I’ll do anything to get my next fix.
Anything.
Including walking right onto the property of Austin’s most ruthless and feared drug lord to beg for some H. I don’t know his name, only that people call him Boss. Oh, and that he won’t think twice to put a bullet in my head.
But like I said, I’ll do anything to get my next fix. Even if it costs me my life.
Or changes it forever.
Excerpt #1
Boss gives Miri a hit
Despite Miri’s disgusting appearance, her nasty addiction to heroin, and the fact that her maybe-boyfriend had been stealing from me to feed her habit, I felt responsible for her. It was my shit she got hooked on, and she just seemed… frail and in need of someone to take care of her. It was almost as if she were sent here as penance for my past failures to take care of my mom and sister.
Besides, Miri intruded on my property. She knew where I lived. I couldn’t just toss her out. It was highly unlikely, but she could call the cops and get them down here with a warrant in the blink of an eye.
Better to get her dosed up and calmed down before trying to talk.
“Jase,” I barked.
One of my men immediately appeared at my side. “Yes, Boss.”
“Bring me the kit.”
With a sharp nod, he left the room and reappeared in less than two minutes to hand me a small zippered pouch. “Here you go, Boss.”
“All of you leave,” I ordered as I began prepping the kit. One by one, I lined the items up on the table, in the order I would need them. Everyone obeyed my command but one.
“Boss, come on…”
“Milo, don’t push me any further tonight.” I turned to give my lieutenant a dark stare that said don’t fuck with me. He better not press his thoughts in front of a stranger.
Milo’s lips pressed tight as he struggled to keep his mouth shut and follow my orders. Nothing new from the big, strong-willed man. He was very opinionated at times. Tense and agitated, Milo gave in and agreed. “Fine. I’m going home then, Boss.”
“See you in the morning.” I dismissed Milo and returned my attentions to the sweaty, gross, trembling girl in my kitchen.
Using an alcohol pad, I wiped my hands to kill any germs. Then I picked up a tiny packet of white powder, careful not to spill any, and poured it into a spoon designed to lie on a flat surface without tilting. The rubber tourniquet was long compared to Miri’s razor-thin arm. I knotted it around the tiny limb, holding back a pained grimace at touching her filthy skin. When I glanced up to check on her, I found Miri watching intently. I blinked and tore my gaze away from those wide green eyes to search for a vein. There wasn’t a single usable one on her scar-riddled arm.
“Shit,” I muttered when an inspection of her other arm turned up the same.
“I-I use my feet.” Miri’s voice was so soft I nearly missed her response.
Caught in the sliver of emerald in those captivating eyes, it took me a minute to reply.
“All right.” I removed the tourniquet, put it around a slender ankle, and placed her left foot on the floor to get better blood flow to the extremity. A single bluish vein stood out, surrounded by a half-dozen faded and fresh track marks. “There it is.” I grabbed another alcohol pad and swabbed the area. Syringe in hand, I uncapped a vial of sterile water and drew up a small amount, adding it to the powered opiate in the spoon. Using a lighter, I cooked the drugs until the mixture was reduced to a clear, bubbling liquid. As I waited for the chemicals to cool, Miri became frantic.
“I-It’s okay. I c-can take it hot. Really. I-I don’t mind. Please…”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not safe. You could blow a vein or worse.”
“I don’t care! Give it to me.” She started to struggle in the chair, in danger of tipping it over again.
Fed the fuck up with today’s events and bullshit in general, I caught her chin between my thumb and forefingers and pinched hard enough to hold her still.
“Stop this immediately or you’ll get nothing. Listen carefully, because I’m only going to say it once. I’m never, ever hospitable to intruders, so you should consider yourself lucky to still be breathing right now and not being driven to a remote location where no one will ever find your body.”
Those dull eyes widened with fear and her lip trembled. “Okay, okay. I’m g-good. I’ll be good. I’m s-sorry.”
I ripped open another alcohol swab and wiped off my fingers. Filthy junkie. Once the mixture was cool, I drew it up into the syringe using a filtered needle and made sure the air was out.
“Ready?” I’m not sure why I bothered—I knew the answer before the question was asked.
“Yes, please, please, please.” Miri vibrated with anticipation.
Despite the fact I grew up around drugs, despised drug use, watched my family implode from drug addiction and never once allowed anyone to get high in my house or permitted drug use among my employees, I went against everything I believed personally and stuck the needle into the vein on Miri’s foot. I pulled back to watch as dark red blood entered the syringe. With visual confirmation I hit a vein, I removed the tourniquet and slowly injected the opiate into her system until the syringe was empty. Working efficiently, I cleaned up the kit, put the used items in a container for the staff to dispose of, and washed my hands at the sink.
Then I sat down and waited.
*****************
Excerpt #2
Boss forces Miri in the shower to get clean
Fighting the intense, gut-clenching fear, I tightened my grip, using his strong muscles to keep me upright as he washed my feet. The cloth skimmed up my legs one at a time, his hands scrubbing over and over as the foam rinsed away days of dirt and grime. The boss skipped my clothed midsection, straightened to his full height, and repeated the process with my arms, spending extra time on my dirt-caked hands and nails, and the track marks on my arms, only moving on when my skin glowed pink.
Next, he lifted my long red hair off my neck and slid the cloth across the top of my back and shoulders, then around the front to wash the exposed part of my chest where my tank top dipped low. I glanced down as his enormous, bruised and scabbed hands worked over my skin, only then realizing my white tank was completely transparent and I wasn’t wearing a bra. Instinctively, my hands flew up to cover my breasts. He chuckled, a smooth, deep sound so seductive it could easily charm a roomful of people and melt every pair of panties in a five-mile radius.
“A little too late for that, doll. Seein’ as I’ve already got a good look at everything.”
Something about his cocky drawl, the crooked smirk on his face, and that single raised eyebrow felt like a challenge. My courage, boosted by the decadent lull of my best friend, heroin, had me meeting his gaze head-on. Determined to show the boss I wasn’t a cowering scaredy-cat, I fingered the hem, tugged the wet tank over my head, and tossed it to the floor with a loud splat. The man’s eyes widened, which only fueled my desire to make him eat his stupid words. Still staring directly into those sapphire eyes, I stuck my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and shoved them down, stepped out, and kicked them aside. Completely naked, I stood my ground and raised my own brow in return, hands on my hips.
Our eyes were locked a few more seconds before he threw his head back and burst out laughing. The action made him look years younger than I originally believed. “You are somethin’ else, you know that, doll?”
Instead of answering, I snatched the soapy washcloth from his hand and quickly finished washing my newly exposed skin.
“Here.”
Jerk.
The boss scrambled to catch the cloth I whipped at his chest before turning to storm out of the shower. I yelped when he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me toward him. The blazing heat of his chest was pressed against the bare skin of my back and I trembled from head to toe. The boss held tight and lowered his mouth to my ear.
“First, don’t ever fucking throw shit at me again.” Chills broke out across my skin at his angry threat. “You will not disrespect me in my own house, especially after I fucking took you in instead of killing you the second you set foot on my property. Got it?” When I didn’t answer, he squeezed my upper arms until I whimpered.
“Y-yes. I get it.” I struggled to keep from screaming out of pure terror. What was I thinking? Mouthing off to a drug lord while naked in his shower and a house full of his goons one floor below. I couldn’t possibly be more vulnerable.
After digging his fingers in for another long moment to prove he was in charge, the boss released me and spun me around as he picked up another bottle. “Your hair is fucking disgusting. It needs to be washed.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste and once more, shame flooded me with heat. This man had a way of making me feel as though I was less than human. He held out the bottle, shaking it in my face. “Either you do it, or I do, doll. But you’re not getting out of here until you’ve cleaned the junkie stench off.”
The backs of my eyes stung and my face caught fire. I couldn’t look at him as I took the bottle and poured some shampoo into a shaky hand. He washed himself quickly then stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest as I lathered my hair and rinsed off under the spray.
“Again,” he demanded. I bit my lip to keep from telling him to fuck off and did as I was told.
When the last suds swirled down the drain, the boss was silent as he reached around me and cut off the water. He carefully folded the washcloth, laid it on the edge of the sink, and stepped out of the shower enclosure. He handed me a towel, and picked one up for himself. I tried not to watch as he rubbed the fluffy white cloth over all of those tan muscles, but it was futile. Staring, I was mesmerized by the sight as the boss wrapped the towel around his waist and shucked his wet briefs from underneath. I gulped, knowing he was now naked beneath the soft terrycloth, a mere foot away.
When the silence became uncomfortable, I clutched my own towel to my chest, dug up what little courage I had left, and turned to face him with a huff. “We showered together and I don’t even know your name.”
He quirked that damn eyebrow again and smiled, white teeth gleaming in the middle of his dark designer stubble. If I didn’t know he was a widely feared drug lord and a pushy, high-handed, scary motherfucker, I’d find his expression almost charming.
“Boss.”
“I know you’re The Boss, I want to know your name.”
“My name is Boss,” he repeated. “Or Boss Man. Either one works.” As if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if forcing unwilling women into a shower were an everyday occurrence, he shrugged and brushed a hand through his wet hair.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.” This guy was so damn frustrating. He shot me up with H, dumped me in the shower, humiliated me, washed me, but wouldn’t tell me his name. Whatever. I turned my back to him.
Big mistake.
Two large hands wrapped around my shoulders, and I was jerked back against his body once more. Both of us were currently clad only in towels, his slung low around his waist and mine tucked under my armpits. There wasn’t as much skin-on-skin contact as in the shower, but this felt much more intimate. Slowly, Boss spun me around to face him, and I had to muffle a frightened cry. His blue eyes were narrowed to slits, nostrils flaring. The transformation from playful to furious was immediate and absolutely terrifying. For the first time since I’d showed up on his lawn, I was truly, without a doubt, scared shitless.
This man, the one in front of me—so different from the man who laughed in the shower—is what I expected from the drug lord I heard rumors about. Horrible rumors of unspeakable acts of violence. A ruthless man to be respected and feared.
Boss pressed the length of his half-naked body against me, and growled, teeth glinting behind curled lips. “That’s the second time you turned your back on me after mouthing off. I’m only going to say this once more, Miri, so listen carefully.” He lowered his head and his breath ghosted across my neck. I shuddered and a whimper escaped my throat, the result of a horrifying combination of lust and fear. “You are my guest. You snuck onto my property and you’re goddamn lucky I didn’t let Milo shoot you on sight. No, I saved you, took your ass in, gave you your fucking heroin, and washed a couple weeks’ worth of filth and scum off of you using my very expensive body wash that, incidentally, I never share with anyone. I expect you to be grateful for my hospitality and treat me with some goddamn motherfucking respect, got it?” His hands tightened around my arms incrementally as he spoke. His message was quite clear as his touch became more and more painful. I knew his thick fingers would leave bruises on my pale, fragile skin.
Legs shaking, I nearly pissed myself when faced with the lethal side of this man.
“I want to hear you say you understand, Miri.” Boss let go and stepped back until his eyes bored holes into me from beneath heavy brows.
Filled with terror, my heart pounded and my breath caught in my lungs, rendering me speechless. His eyes narrowed, not happy with my silence. Somehow, I managed to choke out two words.
Heather C. Leigh is the author of the Amazon best selling Famous series. She likes to write about the ‘dark’ side of fame. The part that the public doesn’t get to see, how difficult it is to live in a fishbowl and how that affects relationships.
Heather was born and raised in New England and currently lives outside Atlanta, GA with her husband, 2 kids, and French Bulldog, Shelby.
She loves the Red Sox, the Patriots, and anything chocolate (but not white chocolate, everyone knows it’s not real chocolate so it doesn’t count) and has left explicit instructions in her will to have her ashes snuck into Fenway Park and sneakily sprinkled all over while her family enjoys beer, hot dogs, and a wicked good time.
My favorite authors are Dan Wells, Ken Follett, and Stephen King.
From New York Times Bestseller Pepper Winters writing as Tess Hunter, comes a sarcastic, sexy standalone full of men with big ‘you know whats’, puppies, pigmy pigs, and swoon-worthy moments. I don’t want to touch it. I really, really don’t. He’s egotistical, crass, and my patient’s owner–which makes him totally off limits. Yep, that’s right. He owns the wiener I’m currently working on. A wiener dog–get your dirty mind out of the gutter. I’ve also worked on his Spoodle, his Cocker-shitzu, and a Cheagle–don’t ask. (And no, it’s not a sexual position). It doesn’t help that he also represents most of my joint-owned veterinary practice’s small clientele. We’d only just opened the doors a few months ago, and in he strode with a yelping Taco Terrier. One haughty look at our sparkling new facilities, he’d demanded royal treatment, even though I was currently finger deep up a squalling tom cat. Ever since then, he expects me to serve him. Any time. All the time. Him and his revolving zoo of dogs. One of these days, I’m going to swat him for being such a pompous ass but I can’t deny the way he handles his charges makes me want to see past the ‘do as I say and don’t ask questions’ barking exterior. But then last week…he caught me staring at his um, cough, package. His bossy commands switched to a cocky smirk. He gave me permission to do something I promised myself I would never ever do. I can touch it. If I want…
Excerpt
“Earth to vet Fairfax.” Ryder waved his hand in front of my face. I jumped, hugging the dog tighter. “What? What happened?” He bit his lip, doing his best not to smile. “You space-cadeted on me again.” He chuckled. “You were looking at my mouth. You weren’t thinking of doing bad things to me again, were you? Because if you were…I can totally help with that.” Yes, please. It would be so easy to nod and let whatever magic between us ignite. But we were at my work. I was supposed to be a mature, composed female. Be that female! My cheeks heated as I dropped my gaze to the Chinese Crested in my arms. “I wasn’t thinking bad things. Not in a bajillion years.” “Bajillion, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of that amount of time.” He came closer, bringing sex and sparks and seduction. “Can I perhaps trade your bajillion and put my own time stamp on it?” I froze as his hand cupped my cheek. My face leaned into him. Damn face. Damn hand. Damn chemistry. “I suppose…” I breathed as his chest strained beneath his grey t-shirt. He was the one seducing me, yet he was just as affected. “What did you have in mind?” His eyes lingered on my lips. “Do something for me and I’ll kiss you right here, right now.” My mental capacity crashed. “Do what?” His eyes burned hot into mine. “It’s a huge, huge favour.” The way he said huge made me think he’d swapped the word favour for cock. I burned up as his thumb grazed my cheekbone. He murmured, “If you did it, I’d do whatever you want.” What, you’d chase me? Pretend to be a policeman and handcuff me? Reach inside my head and be prepared to play with me? My tummy clenched. “What are you proposing I do?” I held the squirming dog as she tried to wriggle into my scrubs, looking for warmth. Not that I could blame her—it was fairly chilly in here with the air conditioning. “You’d do it?” His eyes turned luminous. “For me?” “Yes.” Way to go, Ves. Don’t sound desperate or anything. He smiled. “You’re such a kind, sweet…” His head tilted, bringing his mouth close to mine. His scent of outdoors and timber shot up my nose as he brought me forward, our lips only inches apart. “…amazing woman. I’m so fucking hard for you right now, Vesper.” Dangnamit, everything inside me tightened, melted, swapped ownership and put its hands in the air to flay like idiots over how much I liked this guy. How much I wanted this guy. “Tell me what you want me to do, Ryder.” I licked my lips, almost hyperventilating with how much I needed him to kiss me. “Christ, I love it when you say my name.” His thumb ran over my bottom lip, pulling it down as he pressed the lightest kiss there. “Vesper, I wouldn’t just ask this of any other woman. I’m asking you because you’re so damn incredible.” Ask me what? You want me naked and on all fours? Got it, give me three seconds. You want me to dress up in a nurse’s uniform and look after you instead of the dogs you bring in? Hell yes, get on my table and drop ‘em. I swallowed again. “Spit it out. I need to know.” My heart needed to know before it galloped from my chest and left me a corpse. “Okay, here it goes. Can you, Vesper Fairfax…knit?” Eh… What?! I blinked, wrenching my face from his hold. “What did you just say?” He bit his lip, shaking with mirth. “I asked how skilful you are with two needles and some wool.” “Why? Do you have some crazy fetish you’re trying to admit to?” “I have fetishes, but needles aren’t included.” He couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. “Man, you should see your face.” You should see what you did to my knickers, you jerk.
About the Author
Tess Hunter is the superhero pen name of a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Bestseller who gave up swallowing her one-liners and decided to write them instead. Her libido scares even her and having an outlet to be snarky, stupid, and sexy while cloaked by incognito is the perfect recipe for naughtiness online and in-between the romance pages
Military trained, medically enhanced, designed to kill.
Sergeant Rose is a former Special Forces soldier turned fearless through a classified program designed to inhibit the physiological reactions to fear, but the secret cocktail of drugs has lethal side effects. The soldiers are still fearless, but they’re also angry, paranoid, violent, and potentially suicidal, making them a danger to anyone close to them, which sends Rose on a mission of revenge against the military and the scientists who used Team Fear as guinea pigs to further a twisted agenda.
A discredited chemist fired for rushing testing protocols, Debi works as a bartender and longs for a way to redeem an impulsive, life-altering mistake. When she is kidnapped and nearly killed by the men sent to destroy Team Fear and all evidence of the experimental program, she has no choice but to join Team Fear on their quest for vengeance. Now she’s in the crosshairs of a rogue military team bent on her destruction.
The threat of annihilation should be enough to prevent Rose from acting on his fantasies about the beautiful scientist, but he can’t fight fate, the Army, and their explosive chemistry. As they’re drawn deeper into the conspiracy, will their relationship survive the truth?
Fast paced, with twists and turns and a side of steamy, Fight By The Team is the second in the Team Fear series. The surviving members of Team Fear are out of the Army and in a world of secrets, lies, and cover-ups in this military romantic suspense series by Cindy Skaggs.
A muscle twitched in his bicep; otherwise he was still. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“No. But I’d like to.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?” He laced his fingers together on the top of his head. His features were impassive, intimidating as hell. “I decked one of my teammates in anger. Doesn’t that concern you?”
“All you did was split his lip.” The day before, he’d taken Wade out with one hit. “You pulled your punch.”
“That should still concern you.”
“It’s between you and Stills.”
“He’s got a hard face. He’ll live.”
“My point exactly. How about you?” Because the guilt hadn’t left his eyes the whole time they’d talked.
Shallow breaths moved his chest. “Why are you here?”
The coronary that had threatened since she was a kid was about to be realized. The words stalled in her throat, but if he could expose himself, his anger issues and the concerns behind them, she could speak the truth. Crap. Her heart nearly seized. “I want you to sleep in my bed.” She stepped forward and ran a finger down the midline, feeling the muscles twitch. It was quite possible she’d die before he answered. “And I don’t want to snuggle.”
Cindy Skaggsgrew up on stories of mob bosses, horse thieves, cold-blooded killers, and the last honest man. Those mostly true stories gave her a lifelong love of storytelling and heroes. Her search for story took her around the world with the Air Force before returning to Colorado.
As a single mom, she’s turning her lifelong love of storytelling into the one thing she can’t live without: writing. She has an MA in Creative Writing, three jobs, two kids, and more pets than she can possibly handle. Find her on Facebook as Cindy Skaggs, Writer, @CLSkaggs on Twitter, or www.CSkaggs.com to sign up for her newsletter.
Terri thought she was marrying a strong, loving man, only to find that beneath that handsome face lies something cold, brutal, and dangerous. After years of abuse, her husband takes things a little too far, and Terri finally summons the courage to take matters into her own hands and make her escape.
But freedom comes at a price.
Forging a new life, Terri moves to a new town and tries to forget her past, but she can’t help looking over her shoulder at every turn. When prison bars can no longer hold her husband, and her past comes knocking, Terri finds that the strength to trust again may be her only salvation. When her attractive new boss steps up to the plate and vows to protect her at all cost, she’s inclined to accept…but can she ever allow herself to trust her instincts again?
*Author Note* Her Only Salvation is a bold and enticing storyline with a hint of romance (sensual but not explicit). This book was originally released under J.C. Valentine’s given name and was entitled “Spring Cleaning.”
EXCERPT
She wasn’t on the floor for more than five minutes when Cathie called her behind the bar.
“You have a phone call, doll.” Passing off the receiver, she flashed a quick grin over her shoulder and said, “It’s a guy.”
Not knowing anyone who would possibly be calling her, let alone a man, not to mention at work, puzzled Terri. With a dark frown, she lifted the receiver and pressed it to her ear.
“Hello?”
At first she didn’t hear a thing, the noise in the bar drowning everything out. Turning her back to the room, she cupped her hand over the phone and repeated the greeting.
At first, she didn’t trust what her ears were hearing. The voice was too distinct, too familiar to be real. Her first inclination was to throw out the most obvious explanation and come up with something that she was better equipped to handle mentally. However, when his voice came down the line again, rough and laced with menace, reality slammed into her like a freight train.
“Hi there, sweets,” Randy said smoothly. “Miss me?”
Terri’s voice seemed to be caught in her throat, a lump that she had difficulty even getting her short breaths past.
“Judging by your silence, I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t try to deny it,” he snapped, then quickly reigned in his temper.
Terri didn’t realize she had been shaking her head. In that instant, she knew he was watching her. Immediately, she spun on her heel and scanned the crowd. There were so many people tonight, she could barely make out their faces, let alone single one out. As he continued to talk, she slowed her visual inspection, breaking the room down into square foot sections, taking in every face methodically. Randy had distinct, pale blonde hair, and anyone who didn’t fit that description, she tossed out of the equation, and those with similarly blonde hair she subjected to intense scrutiny.
“You’re looking good, sweets,” he complimented her from his hidden vantage point.
“Always knew you would live up to your full potential one day.”
She could almost feel him moving through the room, his eyes pinned to her every step of the way. It made her skin crawl.
“From housewife to barmaid,” he continued. “Wouldn’t your mother be proud.”
“My mother was always proud of me,” she sneered into the phone. Bringing up her deceased mother had always been a sore spot for her, and he well knew it. She would not allow him to sully her memory any longer.
Randy snickered, loving that he had managed a reaction out of her. “You always were easy to rile up, sweets.”
“Don’t call me that,” she nearly shouted in return, but managed to lower her voice at the last minute to avoid attracting any unnecessary attention.
“Not so fond of that nickname anymore?” He clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “How about love bug? Does that suit you better?”
“I hate it,” Terri growled, hoping to sound as angry as she felt.
“Good, love bug it is. Now,” he went on, uncaring of her growing temper. “I must be going, but before you beg me to stay, I want to assure you that I won’t be far.” Suddenly it was as if the sound coming through the other end of the phone had entered a vacuum.
Eyes darting frantically across the sea of dancers, Terri honed in on a set of familiar wide shoulders set against a tall frame and a head of pale blonde hair cut short in an almost military fashion, exiting the club. It had to be Randy, she thought, but he was gone from view so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.
Except that she would know him anywhere.
With shaking hands, Terri replaced the phone on its station, and without saying where she was going, walked mindlessly down the narrow passage leading to the locker rooms. She needed to be alone. She couldn’t think. Her mind was too clouded with visions of her murder, of Randy strangling the life out of her once and for all.
With panic setting in, Terri burst through the locker room doors and ran for the washroom where she proceeded to vomit her dinner into the toilet.
Luke found her soon thereafter, worry and annoyance warring for dominance on his broad face.
“The girls are wondering where you disappeared to,” he informed her, crossing his arms over his chest as if she were a child in need of reprimand. “You know you can’t just take off without telling someone where you’re going.”
“I know,” Terri muttered, keeping her head low. She lacked the strength to hold it up, too weakened from the turmoil eating at her insides to do much else than sit there and ponder her fate. “I’m sorry. Tell them I’m sorry.”
Luke was suddenly sitting beside her. She hadn’t even heard him move.
Lifting her chin, he narrowed his deeply blue eyes on her and tilted his head. “Are you sick or something?”
“I’m fine,” she managed, trying to find some strength to lie effectively and failing miserably.
Tucking a chunk of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, he shook his head.
“Talk to me, Terri. I know everything isn’t fine. I know there is something going on with you, and I want to know what it is.”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
Dropping his hand, Luke’s expression changed from soft and understanding to a mix of anger and annoyance like a switch had been thrown.
“That’s bull and we both know it. Now this…whatever this is,” he waved a hand through the air encompassing her, “is starting to affect your performance here. This is a business, Terri, and if you want me to be understanding, then you’re going to have to level with me.”
Terri narrowed her eyes on him. “Are you saying you’ll fire me if I don’t confide in you?”
Luke sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “No, I’m not going to fire you, Terri. I just need you to help me understand. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
The pained expression he turned on her, one of utter defeat, somehow compelled Terri to open her mouth and admit this one person into her shrunken world.
“My husband,” she began, and swallowed hard to tamp down the tremor in her voice, “he’s been released from prison.”
Luke looked at her in a way that told her he was trying to be sympathetic but still didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation.
She went on. “He was here tonight, and I think he was here last night too.” She grimaced, knowing in her heart of hearts that what she was about to say next was the truth. “I think he was the one who hit that boy in the parking lot.”
Luke’s eyes widened, understanding mixed with equal parts anger and worry twisting through them until the blue seemed to swirl with his anger.
“I’ll kill that asshole,” he seethed, his fingers curling to form tight fists against the bench they sat on.
Terri shook her head. “You can’t. They would lock you up, and then who would watch out for me?”
She didn’t want Luke to get himself into trouble. It was obvious he was a fighter, willing to go up to bat for any cause he deemed worthy, but she didn’t want to see him get caught up in the drama of her life. Not if she could help it.
She hadn’t meant to, but she started to shake a little, almost as if the cold outside hadn’t fully left her.
Seeing this, Luke wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her to him. “Hush,” he murmured. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Promise?” she asked, then sniffed back the start of a runny nose. Had she started crying too? Jesus, she really was a mess.
“Promise. It will be a cold day in hell before I let that creep get anywhere close to you again.” He petted her hair absently. “Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll work something out.”
Closing her eyes, she leaned into his embrace. For the second time in her life, Terri decided to put her trust into a man. This time, she only hoped she wouldn’t get burned.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Series. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.
J.C. earned her own happily ever after when she married her high school sweetheart. Living in the Northwest, they have three amazing children and far too many pets and spend much of their free time together enjoying movies or the outdoors. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
The driver began to shout something in Portuguese. The way his finger was wagging, I assumed he was telling the person that the cab was full. But the passenger didn’t listen. Next thing I knew, I was sitting next to someone in the back seat.
Someone wearing a uniform.
Captain Carter Clynes in the flesh.
He turned to face me with a wicked grin on his face. “My layover just got more interesting.”
Damn. He seemed to have grown that stubble overnight.
“How was your flight, Perky? Did you enjoy the ride I gave you?”
“My shirt’s dry. I think you can drop the Perky.”
His eyes lowered to my breasts. Of course, my nipples were standing at full attention since the sheen of sweat on my skin had met the cool air-conditioning inside the cab.
Carter scrubbed his hands over his face. “Damn. You weren’t kidding about those things. I haven’t slept in eighteen hours, and they just woke me up. I think they’re contagious, and I’m fucking perky now.”
“That’s not really an appropriate thing to say to a woman you just met, you know.”
“We didn’t just meet. This is our third date.”
“Third date?”
“I bought you dinner in an elegant restaurant for our first one and took you up for a plane ride for our second one. Those were damn good dates. Some women would kill for that kind of lavishness. Seems fitting date three we should be heading to a hotel.” He winked.
I wasn’t sure if it was the time change, my being tired from restless sleep on the plane, or if it was possible this man could say anything and I wouldn’t be offended. Why am I not I offended?
When I didn’t respond, he continued. “I’m glad I saw you. Didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“That might be because you didn’t look for me.”
“I never thought you’d actually take my suggestion and fly to Brazil.”
I mumbled. “Neither did I.”
The cab driver interrupted, looking between us to ask, “You share cab, yes?”
Surprising me, Carter answered. In Portuguese. The language that sounded choppy and frustrating just two minutes ago, suddenly sounded sexy and romantic.
He turned back to me in English. “What hotel are you staying at?”
“I was just trying to figure that out with a little help from Google. Do you have one to recommend?”
“You trust me to pick out where you’ll stay tonight?”
I considered his question for a minute. It was illogical, that much I knew, but I did trust him to pick my hotel. Lord knows why. “I think I do.”
That response earned me another sexy grin that had me more excited than I’d been in the last year.
Almost a half-hour later, we were finally off the highway and traveling into what looked like a residential neighborhood. “Barra da Tijuca.” I read the street sign aloud.
“Very good. I should probably warn you. It’s probably not the type of hotel you’re used to.”
“What does that mean?”
“You look like you’re more of the luxury chain with a spa type of woman, that’s all.”
Even though that was exactly what I’d typed into Google, when he said it that way, it sounded like a bad thing. It made me defensive. “And what’s wrong with a luxury hotel? Sometimes a girl needs a massage and a soak in a nice bathtub while traveling.”
“Well, you certainly won’t be getting either of those where we’re heading.” Carter caught my eye. “Unless I’m the one doing the massaging, that is.”
I blushed, which caused Carter to chuckle. “You really are fucking adorable. I’m not sure what’s sexier, the fact that you’re up for letting me take you on this little adventure, or that you secretly like the thought of me giving you a massage.”
“I do not!” My quick, defensive response only confirmed he was right.
He leaned to me. “Do, too.”
“You’re off base.”
“That’s a shame. I’ve been told I’m really good with my hands.” He held out his hands in front of him, examining them. Big hands. Hands that looked like he used them to do some actual work when he wasn’t flying a plane.
Damn.
We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!
Available for Pre-order on iBooks, Nook and Kobo now!
From the New York Times bestselling authors of Stuck-Up Suit and Cocky Bastard, comes a sexy new standalone novel.
Money or love? Which would you choose? You probably just answered the question in your head thinking it’s an easy decision. For me, it’s not. Did I mention it’s a lot of money? A hell of a lot. I needed to go far away to think it through. As I embarked on an impulsive trip, I hit a detour when I met sexy Carter in the airport lounge. We struck up a heated conversation. Then, he left. I thought I’d never see him again. But fate had other plans. Surprise! He was the pilot of my flight. The bigger surprise was the adventure that followed after the plane landed. Carter was dangerous and always on the move. Even though our connection was magnetic, I knew it was only temporary. He would give me tickets, and I would follow him around the world to exotic places. A bevvy of flight attendant exes and rumors about Carter’s reputation were never far behind. I didn’t know what to believe. But I was addicted. Nothing else mattered anymore. And I was going to get hurt. Because a part of me wanted to be the one to finally ground the playboy pilot. At the very least, he was taking me on a thrilling ride. All good things must come to an end, right? Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.
Meet Penelope
Penelope Wardis a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of eleven novels. Her books have placed on the New York Times bestseller list fourteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island.
Vi Keelandis a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in ten languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six. Author Links
I can’t believe my coach assigned me a tutor. I’m all that on the field and between the sheets—who cares about my stupid grades?But Claire doesn’t treat me like I’m dumb. When we’re not busy fighting, she actually encourages me. And with those sexy curves of hers, I know just how to thank her.
Claire: I hate football players, but I need the money. Jake is just as cocky and arrogant as the worst of them … but his touch sets me on fire.
I have to believe he’s different, that he won’t use me and break my heart. Because I can’t stop wanting him. I just hope I survive the ride.
Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer to her. I made a noise of surprise—she almost attacked me. She was desperate for it, for me. There was something about that, something hot. She needed me. I would give her exactly what she needed.
I hated myself for giving in so easy, even as I kissed my way down her body. She moaned, and didn’t stop me when I peeled away the sheets. The sight of her, all of her, had me hard in no time. I had to be inside her. I had to be. She had to open herself to me.
I ran a hand down her body, skimming her curves, taking her in. The narrow waist. The round hips. The firm thigh and calf. Then up again. My fingers caressed her, drawing sighs from deep in her throat.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”
She whimpered then, visibly relaxed. I had her where I wanted her, and the thought made my cock throb again.
BLP REVIEW ~ TRACY
This is the first book from Tia Lewis, and while the characters were a bit younger than others I’ve read lately, I really enjoyed the story.
I liked that there was more to Jake and he wasn’t just your atypical college jock, even though that’s how he initially came across. To an extent he didn’t ‘fit in’ when it came to the rest of his team mates but from the outside you’d think he was exactly like them. Claire hung with the geeky group and had preconceived ideas of the kind of guy Jake was when she signed up to tutor him – not helped by the fact that she hated footballers. She was smart, studious and hard working, he was football mad, not too interested in studying and focusing on his grades and you’d never think this pair would get along.
When the tutoring starts they definitely don’t hit it off right away, they snark and argue back and forth pretty much every time they are together but as they start to spend time together you begin to see a different side to both characters and they begin to connect – in fact, after a while they connect really well!!!
Outside factors in the shape of family and friends and things that happened in the past give you insight into what has shaped both Jake and Claire. Initially, both main characters were quite unkind in what was thought and said before they got to know each other – it has to be said that their friends were worse, to the point it seemed quite cruel on occasion, even though we discover that there are possibly other reasons for the negativity and dislike…. I really enjoy a dual POV and finding out what makes each character tick…. Through the story both Jake and Claire develop and they begin to look at the other in a different light.
I liked Jake’s coach and how he, along with Claire after a while, knew there was more to Jake than he believed and that they cared enough to make him see it for himself.
I would have liked an epilogue to see how things worked but that’s my only issue to be honest. A well written, enjoyable story (when I didn’t want to smack one or three of the characters!!) I’m looking forward to reading more books from Tia soon.
Tia Lewisis a romance author from the Midwest who writes about smart, sexy, sassy women and hot, possessive alpha males. Her favorite bad boys to write about include sports players, mafia, bikers, billionaires and the bad-ass next door.
You can find her cooking, reading, or traveling when she’s not busy working on her next release.
“What do you want?” Her voice was husky as she slid her hands onto his thighs and Dex shivered at her touch. He shrugged. Just looking down at her like this, her face upturned, her long dark hair falling down her naked back, her breasts thrust out and tipped in a golden glow from the television was driving him crazy. “They’re your spoils.” She wet her lips again and it took all Dex’s willpower not to swoop down and crush his mouth on hers. “I want to know.” Dex shook his head. She’d be shocked if she knew the things he wanted to do to her. “Trust me—” he reached his hand out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t.” She dug the pads of her fingers into his thighs and the sensation streaked straight to his balls, sizzling hot at the base of his spine. “Humour me.” Dex locked his gaze with hers. He could see fever glint in their depths. The kind of fever that heated his blood and stirred deep in the muscles of his inner thighs. She wanted to hear the words… “I want to strip that underwear off you. I want to lay you flat and bury my head between your thighs and stay there until you forget the name of any other man who’s ever gone down on you.” He trailed his fingers along her jaw not trusting himself in this moment to not follow through on what he’d just described. His thumb rubbed at the full soft crescent of her bottom lip. “I want to kiss you until we both can’t breathe. I want to push your gorgeous breasts together and thrust my cock between them until I come all over them. I want to look down and see your mouth around my dick.” Dex sucked in an uneven breath. He was dizzy with the images bombarding his mind, intoxicated by the possibilities, by the things he wanted to do to this woman. With this woman. “I want to turn you upside down and inside out with wanting me. I want to bend you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until you’re begging me to stop. Hell, I want to bend you over every goddamn piece of furniture in this place.” Dex stopped, the breath thick in the back of his throat, as his mind swirled into an abyss of devolving scenarios. Ropes, paddles, wax encrusted nipples. All that fifty shades of grey shit. He wasn’t into pain—hers or his. But the way she was looking up at him, her pretty wet lips parted and so very near, was fogging his brain with reckless lust.
“Suddenly, this fake relationship is feeling all too real…”
Playing it Cool by Amy Andrews releases on September 12th!
Harper Nugent might have a little extra junk in her trunk, but her stepbrother calling her out on it is the last straw… When rugby hottie, Dexter Blake, witnesses the insult, he surprises Harper by asking her out. In front of her dumbass brother. Score! Of course, she knows it’s not for reals, but Dex won’t take no for an answer.
Dexter Blake’s life revolves around rugby with one hard and fast rule: no women. Sure, his left hand is getting a workout, but he’s focused on his career for now. Then he overhears an asshat reporter belittle the curvy chick he’d been secretly ogling. What’s a guy to do but ask her out? It’s just a little revenge against a poser, and then he’ll get his head back in the game. But the date is better than either expected. So is the next one. And the next. And the heat between them…sizzles their clothes right off.
Suddenly, this fake relationship is feeling all too real…
About the Author
Amy Andrews is a multi-published, award- winning author of 50+ romance novels across both traditional and digital platforms. She writes for Harlequin Mills and Boon, Entangled, Harper Collins Australia, Momentum Publishing, Escape Publishing and Tule. She’s sold in excess of a million books worldwide and has been translated into over a dozen languages. In her spare time she is a PICU nurse and mother of two teenagers. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane, Australia but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.
When a pin-up worthy tattoo artist meets a car mechanic on a Florida roadside, it feels like the start of a great one-night stand. But when feelings grow, and secrets are revealed, both of their lives will be at risk.
The only question is from who?
Find out in THE DARKEST LINK by RITA finalist, Scarlett Cole.
Follow the blog tour from August 29th – September 9th!
Two grand prize winners will receive a $25 Amazon Gift Card and the runner-up prize will be all four eBooks in the series.
Title: THE DARKEST LINK Series: Second Circle Tattoos #4
Author: Scarlett Cole
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Pub. Date: August 30, 2016
Synopsis:
When her car breaks down off the side of a lonely highway far from her sunny Miami home, tattoo artist Lia never expected her very own white knight to ride up on the back of a barely street-legal motorcycle…and she never expected to fall for her dark savior. After a string of failed relationships and a bruised heart Lia is not looking for forever, and the hot mechanic, with his sexy scruff and shaggy hair, is simply impossible to resist. He’s the perfect candidate for a mind-blowingly-perfect, no-strings-attached one-night stand.
Reid left his life in Chicago far behind him and hasn’t been back, but he’s never been able to escape the guilt he feels about his own painful role in inviting a monster into his baby sister’s life. A monster who almost destroyed her. Being with Lia is an unexpected gift, one he doesn’t feel he deserves, and their one night together has him wanting more than he should. When he surprises her at her tattoo studio, Second Circle Tattoos, in Miami, he’s in for a shock—and a fist to the face—when his past and present collide.
With secrets coming to the surface, Reid and Lia are thrown into a world of betrayal and lies that threatens to pull them under, and the last link to his former life may be the darkest of them all.
“What is this?” she asked, running her hand over the elongated hood.
“A 1958 Ford Thunderbird. It was a shell when I bought it. Was found in an unused barn with a bunch of other old classics.”
The wheels were black with white faces, and the soft top was a creamy white. Reflections from the chrome cast light onto the white walls.
“I love it,” she said, excited to sit inside.
“Hood up or down?” Kenny asked, slipping her cases into the trunk.
“Oh, most definitely down,” Lia said. Screw the victory rolls, she could always put her hair into a high ponytail and add the red ribbon she had in her purse if her scarf failed. She reached into her bag to find it and tied it around her head.
“I like this,” Kenny said, fingering the knot under her chin gently. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners made her feel all kinds of gooey inside. Perhaps it was a good thing they lived a long drive away from each other. His very presence made it difficult to remember why she was taking some time off from men. But a little harmless flirtation was adding to the adventure of a few days off work. There couldn’t be any harm in that.
Once inside the car, Kenny took her hotel details and plugged them into his phone. “There are few downsides to the classics, but lack of sat-nav has to be one,” he said, turning the radio on. “Ready?”
“I feel like Thelma and Louise about to drive over the edge of the cliff,” she said with a laugh.
“Close. That was a 1966 Ford Thunderbird, eight years younger than this baby. Does that make me J.D.?”
“That depends. Are you planning on driving me to a motel, having your wicked way with me on the dresser, then stealing my life savings?”
“I know a motel, don’t know if they have a dresser, but more than willing to do a drive-by to find out.”
Lia laughed. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t. Say the word, Red.”
He revved the engine several times, the low growl sexy as all hell, and grinned as he roared out onto the street. Lia watched his hand as he shifted the stick. He caressed the gear stick. The more she stared, the more turned on she became until she had to cross her legs and look out of the window.
Damn him for getting her so hot and bothered. She spared a glance back toward him, just as he turned to face her. And he winked. Because he knew.
And that just turned her on even more.
BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy
to be added
About the Author
Scarlett Coleis a writer of contemporary romance and a two-time RITA finalist. Her debut, THE STRONGEST STEEL, has already become an Amazon best seller in romantic suspense, was a Best Debut Goodreads Author Finalist 2015, and Authors On The Air Global Radio Network Contemporary Romance Pick of 2015.
When Scarlett isn’t writing, she spends her time reading, hoarding mason jars, and working out to off-set an epic sour candy habit. She likes hot men, cold beer, and expensive shoes.
Having travelled the world for work and fun, Scarlett is a citizen of both Britain and Canada. A true city-dweller, she considers Toronto and Manchester home and likes to set her books in vibrant locations such as Miami and Los Angeles.
Rep’d by Beth Phelan at The Bent Agency, and published by St. Martin’s Press.
She’d love to hear from you on twitter @itsscarlettcole
After a year of a seemingly happily-ever-after, Troy Babilonia throws a curve ball that smacks Larson Blackburn right in the head. When Troy’s debut novel, “Bridge to Lonely,” threatens to overshadow Larson’s own success, inviting a past shadow into the light of their present, the two alphas must learn to adjust.
“Bridge to Lonely” has garnered an unexpected success both in the literary world and in the film industry, forcing Larson to accept that he is not the only successful author in the building. But as Troy’s old flame decides to make an appearance, the two alphas are forced to test the strength of their love. Let the battle of the egos recommence; where sarcasm is the preferred weapon, and the testosterone levels go beyond the boiling point.
Because Black Balled just wasn’t enough…Smith & LeNoir bring you Hard Edit.
Excerpt
My favorite moment. That second before I enter him. That instant right before our bodies become one, our heartbeats sync into a practiced tempo and our souls merge into a single entity. My hips are positioned between his thighs, Troy’s legs folded against his chest and our gazes lock. “I love you,” I whisper and, before he has a chance to answer, I push my way inside him and still. “I fucking love you, Troy,” I say again, louder this time as I pull out and thrust back in more forcefully. Troy grunts, pulling himself up as he places his feet back on the mattress and wraps a hand around my neck bringing our faces only inches apart. The slight aroma of wine lingering on his breath wafts around my nostrils all mixed with the scent of our sex. Male on male, two dominant men fucking away their concerns. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?
Andrea Smith is a USA Today and Amazon Best-Selling Author of the G-Man Series! She has a wicked sense of humor. No matter the genre, she is able to infuse laughter throughout.
She self-publishes Contemporary Romance, Romantic Suspense, and Sensual Romance with a paranormal twist. She also writes New Adult Romance, and has recently collaborated with Author Eva LeNoir on two M/M Romances, with the third in process!
Eva LeNoirgrew up travelling with her parents to various countries in the world. Reading was her constant companion during her travels and her ability to adapt to different cultures fed her mind with endless possibilities. The characters swimming in her head are always from various horizons with a multitude of dreams and aspirations. However, all of these voices always have one thing in common: The women are strong and independent. A true believer in the female cause, Eva’s wish is to portray the women in her books as the leaders. She sees them walking hand in hand with their partners and not be the sheepish followers of the male gender. But most of all, Eva LeNoir wants to offer her readers a moment of pleasure as they dive into the world of her mind’s creation.
They met under the most unusual circumstances and fell deeply in love. Their relationship thrived, despite all the secrets Kyle kept from Janny. When the sordid details of his betrayal were revealed in the worst way possible, he had to fight to win her back.
Now Kyle’s in the battle of his life and the obstacle in their path might be impossible to overcome. Will they continue working together and face the problem head on or… will this be the one thing their love can’t survive?
Excerpt:
“I’m falling for you, Janny.”
“Kyle, what’s wrong?”
His lips move, but no words leave his mouth. Panic fills his eyes.
“I want to be with you and I don’t plan to let you go.”
“Kyle, what’s happening?” I yell, my voice is laced with fear.
Our eyes meet. His breaths are quick and shallow. Terror snakes its way around me, squeezing until I can’t breathe. He grips his head with both hands and falls hard to his knees.
I fall to mine, my shaky hands grabbing his face. “Kyle can you hear me?” I scream.
“Janny Moore, will you be my girlfriend?”
His eyes squeeze shut. Sweat beads on his face. I wipe it away, and touch my forehead to his.
His beautiful golden brown eyes open. He smiles.
“We should stop before I can’t.”
Tears cloud my eyes and fall helplessly. I smile back. He’s going to be okay.
“I wasn’t prepared for you.”
Relief turns to horror when his eyes roll back into his head. He slips from my grasp, his head hitting the concrete with a sickening thud.
Cindy Skaggs grew up on stories of mob bosses, horse thieves, cold-blooded killers, and the last honest man. Those mostly true stories gave her a lifelong love of storytelling and heroes. Her search for story took her around the world with the Air Force before returning to Colorado.
Eva Lenoir
Book Loving Pixies 