When I proposed to Livie Dusek, I didn’t really think that she’d say yes, but I was glad she did. Marrying her would keep my inheritance secure and my dad off of my back. Then we slept together and I thought things were even better. I had no idea.
Ladies’ man and partier Blayne Westmore has been forced into marriage, but his Czech wife is smoking hot and seems to have gone back on her previous rule about no touching…or has she?
Livie doesn’t know why her business-only husband has suddenly decided it’s okay to try to kiss her, or why he keeps saying that they’ve slept together. She hopes her sister Katka isn’t right that Blayne is just trying to get her into bed, but she’s determined to rebuff his advances as much as possible. Once her three years are up and she has her money, she’s done, and nothing that Blayne says will stop her.
Volume two in M.S. Parker’s sexy new series is full of twists, turns and heat. Don’t miss it!
M.S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading- oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
Memphis is still upset about Donovan keeping his father’s secrets. But her anger subdues after going horseback riding together like old times. She can’t help but realize how much she’s still in love with him. When Donovan tells Memphis to meet him at the lake he never shows up because of a secret he learns from his mother. When she asks his mother where he is, she only says he went back home but won’t say why. Did Donovan decide to leave for forever?
Title: Love Brewing Series: Love Brothers #3 Author: Liz Crowe
Release Date: March 2, 2015 Paperback Release: March 14, 2015
The Love Brothers ~ Family saga with humor, heat and heart…not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball.
SYNOPSIS
Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath. While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success. Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive. Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.
PURCHASE LINKS #3 Love Brewing (Amazon only for 90 days) US: UK:
TRAILER for the series, produced by Fiona Jayde Media, starring model Scott Nova, photography by Taria Reed. Narrated by Daniel Dorse, who will record all the books for Audible.com
EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEAK AT CHAPTER ONE:
Diana patted Pepper’s flank as she released him into the paddock then leaned against the barn door, relishing the soreness in her muscles. The sun burned a white hole in the light-blue late summer sky. Smells of her childhood filled her nose, smoothing her edges. A bit of coolness in the air, heralding the coming seasonal transition sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Masie, the pregnant cow, uttered a low moo, snapping Diana out of daydreaming about her favorite season—the hunting kind. It brought her long to-do list flashing across her brain, reminding her she still had to finish mucking out the rest of the barn. The garden was in desperate need of weeding, too. The last of her tomatoes were due in and her sister had already sent three texts that morning about the chicken salad Diana still had to make and get over to the shop. With a heavy sigh, she let the light wind cool her skin. Her arms burned and her thighs shook in a wholly welcome, familiar way, post long ride. She dropped onto the overturned bucket from the horse’s cool-and-wash. “Go on, get out there, ya big baby.” She smiled when the huge animal nuzzled her shoulder before he trotted away obediently, sticking his nose into the water trough, tail flicking lazily, indicating satisfaction with the morning’s proceedings. Bees buzzed, the cow made another lowing sound, late season locusts hummed, and the sun heated her skin. Drifting, her mind calm and free of Jen’s endless demands and catering menus she let the sweet sounds and distinct odors of her family’s farm soothe her. When the horse whinnied and snorted, Diana ignored it and stretched her legs out. One of the dogs let out a loud bark then the other two joined in. They sounded delighted, so Diana figured that her sister must have arrived in the catering van to pick up the chicken salad—the one Diana hadn’t even started yet. Deciding to pretend she was alone a minute longer and enjoy the peace and quiet she always found in the barn, Diana closed her eyes. “Hey.” A distressingly familiar male voice hit her ears. “Um…Diana?” She blew out a breath, unwilling to acknowledge how much she would have given at one point in her life to hear that voice say her name again. “What do you want?” “Just a place to crash. Hide a bit, I don’t know.” “Why now? I thought you and your folks were gettin’ on like a house afire.” She tried to keep the anger out of her words, but it was nearly impossible. “Diana. Please.” She opened her eyes and observed the man she’d loved as long as she could recall. Dominic Love stood in front of her dressed in, of all things, a pair of dress pants and crumpled, long-sleeved shirt. A red tie hung loose around his neck. He had his blond hair scraped back and tied at his nape so she could see he’d added more body art. He stood still, hands tucked in his trouser pockets, his expression scarily blank. She rose and smacked the dust off her ass then stood, arms crossed, willing him not to be there, not to tempt her, because God help her still loved the man, despite how badly he’d treated her. “I am not letting you back in my bed, Dom.” When the corner of his full lips lifted in a smirk, she imagined how satisfying it would feel to smack it off his face—with a blunt instrument. “Not asking for that…yet.” “Go to hell.” She brushed by him, forcing him out of her brain. He snagged her arm and held on tight. “I’m already there, babe, trust me. I swear I just need a friend right now and someplace to lay low. I’ll help around the place, you know that.” As if on cue, the horse bumped Dom’s shoulder, shoving the man forward. The grip on her arm tightened and Dom leaned in close. She yanked away from him, keeping her gaze on the far horizon and her mind on the fact that if she went with her gut right then, she’d pull him back into her life, no questions asked. “You can sleep out here.” He let go. “Thanks, babe.” She clenched her jaw. “Stop calling me babe, you shit-heel, motherfucking, selfish, cheating asshole.” “Okay,” he muttered, but his eyes were bright in a way she knew well. She walked away, letting the memory of their last, and she believed final, fight fill her mind, fueling her fury as she put one boot in front of the other, placing as much distance as she could between them. The dogs circled her legs, escorting her en masse to the door. It slammed, cutting off their nervous whines and snuffling, leaving her standing in the middle of her outdated, overworked kitchen. Usually being in this room helped her forget all the crap going on in the real world while she transformed the various vegetables from her large garden and the meats she’d either hunted or raised herself into meals fit for a five-star restaurant. She shook her head. There were no five-star-restaurants in her universe and there never had been. Even thinking those three words in that order caused heat to rise up her neck and into her face at the memory of her ex-husband—the man who’d swooped in right after Dominic’s last rejection of her and convinced her that he would open the restaurant of her dreams, using the inheritance money she’d saved. Yeah, that had worked out not-so-well. Men. Stupid, lying, cheating men. Stupid me and my stupid need to have one nearby all the stupid time. Her hand landed on something substantial and her fingers curled around it. She picked up the cast iron pan slowly, contemplating it for a split second, recalling she’d left it out to use for frying bacon. With a noise between a grunt and a yell, she put every bit of long-forgotten frustration into the effort to fling the pan at the door. At the last second she worried she might hit one of the dogs. But there was no canine yip of pain. They’d vacated her immediate area, likely sensing the temper eruption on her horizon before she did. It did bust a satisfying hole through the screen at the top of the door and hit the back porch railing with a musical clang that echoed back to her still burning ears. She blew her hair out of her eyes, ready to tackle the next thing on her long to-do list—this time free of any memory of her last disaster of a relationship. That loser—now officially her ex-husband—had been floating through, setting up some chain restaurant over in Lexington. Memories of his handsome face and lying mouth rolled through her head even as she tried to halt them. A real five-star restaurant, Di, he’d liked to say, usually when they were naked. That and, You should try it, and, I could use thirty thousand of your dollars to make it work, plus, let’s get married! And they were naked a lot. Diana groaned and leaned over the sink for a few seconds then straightened. She had too much to do. There was no time for that kind of useless reminiscing. Damn Dominic Love to hell and back for showing up and sending her into this tailspin. She grabbed her mother’s soup pot, slammed it into the sink and starting filling it from the leaky tap. A breeze lifted the lace curtains at the window, stirring the hair around her face. She smelled the rain a few seconds before it let loose, pounding onto the grass between the kitchen window and the barn. Squinting through the sheeting water she spotted Dominic standing in the middle of the paddock, seemingly impervious to the deluge. Pepper trotted over to see what could possibly make the tall, yellow-haired male human stand in the rain like an idiot. When Dom didn’t respond to nudging, the animal gave every appearance of shrugging and glancing in her direction with a whattaya gonna do look before getting under cover in the barn. Within a very few minutes, Dom’s drenched dress shirt clung to him. She watched, gape-jawed and shivering as he yanked his hair from its tie and shook it free, turning his face to take the full force of the increasing downpour, arms outstretched as if preparing for crucifixion. Then he seemed to disappear in the space of a blink. She turned off the tap, which was overflowing the pot by then anyway, and ran out the door. Heart pounding, ears ringing with well-remembered panic over what she might find, she took the expanse of grass between house and paddock in a few long strides. In her fury at how casually he’d sauntered back into her life that morning, she hadn’t thought to study his eyes very closely. Diana had memorized long ago how Dominic’s deep-brown gaze took a particular edge, a kind of sharp, distinctive sparkle, when he hovered on the verge of a breakdown. The rain soaked all the way to her skin by the time she rounded the post at the paddock. At a burst of lightening, she flinched and started counting, only getting to three seconds before the ear-splitting thunderclap. She squinted, seeking a prone, muddy Dominic. But the paddock was empty. Cursing, she glanced back at the house. It was pretty well futile to run back now that she’d gotten drenched. She mirrored Dom’s earlier stance, letting the rain pound against her cheeks, forehead, and lips. Lightning flashed. Thunder followed. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, only getting louder as she realized what an utter whack job she must be, out there, cackling and drinking rain.
ALSO RELEASING MARCH 2, 2015 #1.5 SAFE LOVE: A BONUS Love Brothers Companion Novella
SYNOPSIS
Antony Ian Love has a lot on his ample shoulders. He owns and runs a small business, is estranged from his teenaged daughter AliceLynn, his beloved mother is dying of cancer, and he’s come face to face with his youngest brother Aiden’s sudden reappearance into the Love family circle. Years of sublimating his true self in deep mourning for his long dead wife have hardened the surly, emotional shell he’s nurtured, but one woman seems to have broken through. Rosalee Norris is the young widow of Antony’s best friend Paul and their mutual sorrow and close friendship has slowly morphed into something more.
Family therapist and recent divorcee Margot Hamilton is dropped into the close-knit Love family by necessity but fate has a real design twist in mind. With her heart and mind closed to anything resembling an emotional connection, Margot is shocked to discover something about Antony the very first time they meet–something she tries, and fails, to resist.
SAFE LOVE, The Love Brothers novella is a tale of love’s realistic complications within the saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.
“I’m going to try a little experiment with you.” She came around the side of the desk and headed to him, just as he jumped to his feet. “Sit down, Antony,” she said, using her best ‘take no shit’ voice as she invaded his personal space with the blindfold in one hand. “It will be all right, I promise.” He shook his head but sat, leaving her standing over him, which gave her a shiver of anticipation that she promptly quelled. His strong arms hung loose at his sides, his jeans clad legs sprawled out, too long for the chair. She stood behind him and placed the black silk blindfold over his eyes. After tying it in a way she knew would be nearly impossible to release, she placed her palms on his broad shoulders. As she had hoped, his thrumming, nervous energy calmed under her touch. Too easy, she thought. Not good, she also thought, tamping down the extreme urge to lean over him and lick her way up his neck. Instead, she spoke into the air over his head. “Now, tell me one thing you miss about Crystal.” “Uh…” he said, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “It’s…um… been such a long time and I…” “One thing Antony, quick, without thinking too hard.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “Her lips.” “Okay, now another thing.” She kept her hands pressed on his shoulders, willing him to be calm and to open up to her. “Her ass,” he ground out. She smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. One more thing please.” “Her…” He sucked in a breath. “The way she’d be in charge.” “Hmm…” Margot said, willing herself to stay put, to not place herself in front of him and do what she really wanted. “And what do you mean by that? She balanced the checkbook?” “No,” he whispered. “Okay then. Where was she in charge?” She caught herself even as she said it, implying that Antony’s wife had been “in charge” in a specific place. It cut to the chase, so why not? “I’m, um…not really comfortable with this.” His leg was jittering up and down as tension rose in him again. Margot took a deep breath, cursing her body for betraying her. She squared her shoulders. “I know. That’s why we’re not looking at each other.” Unable to stop herself, she leaned down and put her lips near his ear, sucking in a huge breath of leather, a hint of smoke, cotton and a clean, soapiness that made her want to weep. “It’s all right. I’m in charge in this room so you can just…relax.” She saw him grit his teeth and knew he was trying hard to do the exact opposite of what she was telling him to, so she tightened her grip on his shoulders, not an easy feat considering how firm they were. A point had to be made and she knew her options for making it were limited, since she’d promised herself that this would be nothing more than a therapy method. “The bedroom,” he said, so low she barely heard him. “Crystal was in charge in our bedroom, in private. It was…something we…liked.” Margot straightened, smiling but shaking at the same time, even more confused about how to proceed. Keeping her hands on him, knowing he required at least that much from her, she got herself under some modicum of control and plowed forward. “How was she in charge?” “Oh, I’m pretty sure you know,” he said, surprising her with the sudden strength in his voice. “And I’m also pretty sure I’ve told you enough.” He jumped up, ripped off her un-rip-able blindfold, sending it fluttering to the floor in two strips of black fabric and kicked the chair out of the way. She stumbled, blinking fast, brain spinning and body going into overdrive at the look on his face. He was begging her now, using his unconscious body language, but she could not—she would not—give into the urge to shove him to his knees. Her butt hit the bookshelf, making her stumble and curse. Antony stopped, looming over her and sending out the sort of obvious vibe she’d spent years coming to terms with and assuming she understood—until recently. “Step away from me,” she said. “This isn’t what you think.” He frowned and got even closer, pissing her off and making her inner self rise up and take over. She put her hands on his impossibly firm chest and shoved, forcing him to move out of her personal space so she could breathe and process how quickly she’d lost control of the situation. Typical, she thought with a shudder of disgust. No wonder Gavin left you. You’ve gotten weak. Antony bent down and picked up the pieces of the blindfold. When he held them in his outstretched hands, his expression did nothing to dispel her dismay. “Sorry about this,” he said. She grabbed them, her heart pounding way too fast. “Get out,” she whispered. “Just go. I’m sorry. I can’t…do this.” “You’re the only one I’ve ever told…about Crystal and me and what we…you know, liked.” She willed away the girlie tears. “I know,” she said. “It’s not something you’d share with your brothers.” Antony chuckled and ran a hand around the back of his neck, breaking the tension in the room enough for her to breathe again. “I, um, I’m engaged. And I love her, Rosie, and her boy.” He dropped his gaze to the carpet. Without thinking, Margot tilted his face up, ignoring that strange electrical charge that snapped between them. “It took me nearly four years to even kiss her, Rosie. And we only just… um…” A charming blush rose from his neck to his face, making Margot faint with lust. “I don’t know why in the hell I’m telling you this.”
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished. Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
There is a giveaway for $40 + $10 Amazon gift cards,
choice of an entire series by Liz (ebook only: Stewart Realty OR The Black Jack Gentlemen OR Turkish Delights)
& single book of winner’s choice from Liz 25 book backlist!
Cleo’s a Pararescueman for the U.S. Air Force. When a PJ is called, it’s because everyone else has said no. It’s one of the most dangerous jobs in the entire military, but also one of the most rewarding. It’s the reason he doesn’t form relationships. He’s seen his teammates divorce one by one, and he doesn’t want to do that to a woman. Especially one that he’s supposed to love. However, nowhere in his grand scheme did he plan for the force that was Rue.
To My
Rue’s life has been rough. What she needs is a break. One that’ll distract her from the fact that she’s drowning in responsibility. It comes in the form of a dark and dangerous biker who has a habit of putting his life on the line. He gives her the world, and she holds on with both hands, knowing that he only wants to be friends. Or does he?
Flight
Thinking she knows what’s best, she pushes him too far, causing his control to take flight, and Cleo to disappear before the dust settles. One night of passion turns into a year of heartbreak as Rue tries to find the ability to move on from Cleo. He was pretty clear with his wishes, and they didn’t include her.
Cleo’s not through with Rue, though. Not even a little bit. She’ll be his. All it’ll take is a little bit of…persuasion.
I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.
I had a very definite plan for the rest of my life, and it mostly consisted of getting laid by random strangers and never having to deal with the possibility of anyone getting close enough to hurt me again. Now, after one stupid mistake, I couldn’t quit thinking about him, and I knew it was just going to get worse from here.
When twenty-two year-old Jenna Lang went in to Archer Enterprises for a job, she doesn’t expect her entire world to be turned upside-down. Now, she can’t get wealthy CEO Rylan Archer out of her mind and she has a bad feeling that he’s just as intrigued by her. As his intentions become clear, she must decide if she’s willing to risk everything on the chance he’s different.
Including the steamy prequel, Broken Pleasures, M.S. Parker’s new scorching Pleasures series is not to be missed. See what Forbidden Pleasures has in store.
M.S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading- oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
Racing against time, NSA Agent Joaquin Muñoz is searching for a little girl who vanished twenty years ago with a dangerous secret. Since Bailey Benson fits the profile, Joaquin abducts the beauty and whisks her to the safety of Club Dominion—before anyone can silence her for good.
At first, Bailey is terrified, but when her captor demands information about her past, she’s stunned. Are her horrific visions actually distant memories that imperil all she holds dear? Confined with Joaquin in a place that echoes with moans and breathes passion, he proves himself a fierce protector, as well as a sensual Master who’s slowly crawling deeper in her head…and heart. But giving in to him might be the most delicious danger of all.
Because Bailey soon learns that her past isn’t the only mystery. Joaquin has a secret of his own—a burning vengeance in his soul. The exposed truth leaves her vulnerable and wondering how much about the man she loves is a lie, how much more is at risk than her heart. And if she can trust him to protect her long enough to learn the truth.
You know what they say about curiosity and the cat…but if you still want to know, read below.
Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley) is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 40 sizzling contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances produced via traditional, small press, independent, and audio publishing. She lives in Texas with her husband, munchkin, and one very spoiled cat. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading and listening to an eclectic blend of music.
Shayla’s books have been translated in about a dozen languages. She has also received or been nominated for The Passionate Plume, The Holt Medallion, Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, and the National Reader’s Choice Awards. RT Bookclub has twice nominated her for Best Erotic Romance of the year, as well as awarded her several Top Picks, and a KISS Hero Award.
A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling writing challenges with every new book.
Have something to say? Contact Shayla or visit her on her Facebook page.
You don’t know when… You don’t get to choose if… When it’s time to join…you’ll know. You might think you want to be a member—but trust me this is one club you don’t want to join. It’s not a place where people go to live out their deepest, darkest sexual desires—there are no handcuffs or blindfolds. The 27 Club only admits those who die young and tragically. My brother was recently bestowed membership and joined many of our ancestors before him. I know I’m next. This is my destiny, and I was ready to yield. But then I met Nate. He awakened a sensuality in me that had never been explored, never satisfied. I knew then I could no longer accept my destiny. Nate’s presence controls me. I’m overwhelmed by his touch, his words; my every thought is consumed by desire. I believe he was brought into my life for a reason. Nate doesn’t believe in destiny. But I do. And if there’s a way to cheat it—I must.
I live in Florida with my husband and four kids. I’ve always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, I wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. I went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise my family. I currently work part-time with my husband and full-time embracing one of my biggest passions—writing.
*From International Bestselling authors Callie Hart and Lili St. Germain comes a tale of two families co-existing in a melting pot of violence, murder and drugs in the seedy underbelly of New York City*
Hell’s Kitchen
Theo and Sal Barbieri are brothers, tasked by their Mafioso father Roberto with a very clear purpose: kidnap Kaitlin McLaughlin. The beautiful daughter of Roberto’s Irish enemy. It’s high time Kaitlin was punished for her father’s sins—not to mention, her own.
And Operation: Kidnap Kaitlin is a roaring success… until it isn’t. When Kaitlin escapes into the busy streets of New York City, it’s a race against the clock to find her before Sal and Theo become the hunted.
Zeth Mayfair has traded his life as a hitman for a quieter existence, but it isn’t long before the past catches up with him in the form of Roberto Barbieri. Will he succumb to the lure of power that Roberto is offering? Or will he retaliate by killing every last Barbieri in New York to get them off his back?
Jason Ross is running. Woken in the night by a tip that the Gypsy Brothers are coming for him, he packs a bag and gets his girlfriend the hell out of dodge. Arriving in New York City in the midst of a heatwave is one thing, but being tailed by an entire drug cartel is another.
Worlds collide in Hell’s Kitchen as secrets come to light and sins are punished. Because we might be different in the light of day, but in the darkness, we’re all connected somehow.
Hell’s Kitchen is a serial comprising three volumes: Hell’s Kitchen, Tribeca and Bleecker Street.
Volume One releases on March 3rd with a limited-time sale price of 99 cents
Meet some of the players…
Excerpt #1
“What time they due to land?” Sal asks. He loops a tie, pre-knotted and ready to go, over his head. “Twenty minutes.” With traffic the way it is, we’ll be there in ten.
Sal tightens the tie around his neck, placing the ridiculous fucking chauffeur’s hat on his head. He tucks his hair back behind his ears. He needs to cut it, but will the bastard listen? Hell, no. He never listens to a word I say. “Are you ready?” he asks.
I take my eyes off the road, arching an eyebrow at him. Who the hell does he think he’s talking to? I’ve been doing this job longer than him, after all. I’ve never blinked. Never not been ready. He gets the point pretty damn quickly.
“All right, man, I’m sorry.”
When we arrive at the airfield, we’re directed to hangar twelve, no questions asked. Paddy McLaughlin’s own men would have arrived around now—if we hadn’t already beaten the shit out of them and handcuffed them to a pillar inside an old cardboard factory down on the wharf—so we’re expected. Kaitlin McLaughlin’s plane is delayed. I’m already bored and itching to go by the time the private jet touches down. Sal climbs out of the car and leans against the front passenger door, waiting for the prissy Irish princess and her entourage to exit the plane. When she does, we’re in luck.
Normally, Paddy doesn’t send his little girl anywhere without two personal bodyguards. Today, she’s only accompanied by one. Sal taps the hood of the car as he goes out to take her bags. I have the engine purring in anticipation as he opens the back passenger side door for her and she climbs inside.
Huge sunglasses cover her eyes. That full mouth of hers is perfectly visible in the rearview, though. “Where the fuck is Ray?” she asks. Her father may be first generation Irish, but Kaitlin was born and raised in the States—she sounds like a spoiled little Yank bitch.
“Mr. McLaughlin needed him for something else. He sent us instead.” She slides the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, peering at me over the car’s half-raised privacy screen. “And who are you?” I give her a tight-lipped smile, doing my best to keep my tongue in my head. We need the bodyguard to get in the car, and then we’re golden. Until then, I’m Jerry, the friendly town car driver. “Jerry. My buddy there, that’s Gareth. We’re new.”
“I can see that.” She makes a low, humming sound at the back of her throat. She sounds like she approves. Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t touch crazy pussy. But I will introduce you to my old man, all the same. He just can’t wait to fucking meet you.
The door behind me opens and I feel the car dip as someone gets in—I didn’t notice before, but the lone bodyguard with Kaitlin is a woman. Must be the chick Roberto was talking about. I get a good look at her in the rearview and find myself taking a second one for good measure. She’s blisteringly hot. Maybe in her mid-twenties? Long dark hair, tied back into a braid. High cheekbones. A mouth to rival Kaitlin’s. Her tits strain against her tight black shirt as she twists to put on her seatbelt. You can tell she works out; her clothes fit her far too well for her not to know she looks good in them, too.
Just like Kaitlin, she asks, “Where’s Ray?”
“Busy doing something for Daddy,” Kaitlin informs her, which saves me from spinning the lie again. “Okay. Straight to the bar, then.” The body guard’s head doesn’t even lift, but she’s a professional. She assesses me in the mirror just as I’ve assessed her. I pretend not to notice as Sal folds himself into the passenger seat.
“Of course.” I press the button for the privacy screen, raising it the rest of the way, blocking out all sound from the back of the car. Sal turns and gives me one of his wicked, crazy-ass grins. He’s enjoying this already. “All right, then, big brother. Let’s do this.” He leans forward and hits a button on the dash—and every single door on the town car automatically locks. “No backing out now.”
I burn out of the hangar to the sounds of muffled thuds from the back of the car. The bodyguard’s not stupid. She’s heard the doors locking and knows something isn’t right. “Motherfucker! Open this up right now!”
Normally there’s an intercom in these cars, but this one’s different. Sal and I smashed the shit out of this car’s intercom with two lump hammers and ripped out the wiring. We also lined the roof with lead. The girls in the back aren’t striking up a conversation with us any time soon. And they aren’t making any phone calls to dear old Papa McLaughlin, either.
As I head back toward the city, the shouting from the back gets louder. It’s accompanied by the dull thudding of feet trying to smash out the privacy screen. Sal raps his knuckles against the glass, grinning again. “Bitch sounds crazy back there. I don’t think she likes the modifications we’ve made.” I allow myself a small smile as we hit the George Washington Bridge, heading back toward North Manhattan. So far Operation: Kidnap Kaitlin has been a roaring success. Sal pulls out his cell and starts tapping into it with quick fingers. “Telling the old man we’re on our way?”
He nods. “Bastard better give us credit where credit’s due. He’s probably still organising his own fucking birthday party. Meanwhile, we have just successfully taken our mark hostage. We’re on the homeward stretch.”
The fucking homeward stretch.
The thing about saying you’re on the homeward stretch is that often it’s like waving a red flag at a bull. Fate must hear that phrase and decide to fuck over the poor schmuck who was dumb enough to utter it every single fucking time. It’s only seconds after Sal’s parted with those words that the electric window behind me—the bodyguard’s side window—shatters. We knew the bodyguard would be armed, but we didn’t expect anyone to be shooting out the damn side windows. An eruption of fragmented diamonds explodes sideways, spraying a bright yellow smart car with a million shards of glass. The sound of the firing gun is almost deafening.
“What the fuck?”
The smart car veers sideways, smashing into us; I press my foot to the floor, grinding my teeth at the sound of screeching metal and more hammering from the back as I swerve through the traffic. Sal twists in his seat, pulling his gun and pressing it to the glass of the privacy screen. His finger’s on the trigger. “She’s going fucking crazy. I’m gonna shoot the bitch.”
Excerpt #2
“When he lunges for me, I’m ready. I deflect the hand he was going to grab me with, slapping it downward, and then I grab onto his wrist, pulling him off balance. He seesaws forward but then rips his wrist out of my hand. I don’t expect him to turn his slight fumble to his own advantage, but he does. Dropping to the floor, he rolls and kicks out, landing a solid strike to my leg. I have less than a second to brace myself before I’m hitting the concrete. Then he’s on top of me. “Oh, this is fun, sweetheart. But I don’t really have time to be playing games with you right now.” He’s reaching for my arms, about to pin me to the ground, but I jab, landing a solid hit with my extended fingertips right in the base of his throat, in his windpipe. He chokes, his body falling sideways, and then I’m on top of him. Through watering eyes and a clearly sore throat, the guy grins up at me, shaking his head. “Well, if you wanna fuck me, I guess I could make some time.” Thrusting upward, he tries to unseat me, but I know this is what’s coming and I’m ready again. I compensate, leaning forward, pressing my gun into the guy’s neck. “Who are you?” His body goes still, his hands lifting so they’re palm up in front of him. “You know who I am, sweetheart. I’m the enemy.” “My boss has quite a few enemy camps. Which one do you belong to?” “The biggest one,” the guy says, smiling. “The Italian one.” “So you work for Barbieri?” “I am a Barbieri.” Lightning fast, he snaps his hand out and clamps it around my throat. The move catches me off guard, has me panicking for the first time. My gun is gone, then, knocked to the ground, skittering away across the blacktop. The guy’s hand tightens around the column of my neck, threatening to squeeze even harder. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Feeling a little lightheaded?”
About the Authors
Callie Hart
Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and molding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption. Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.
Lili writes dark romance, suspense and paranormal stories. Her serial novel, Seven Sons, was released in early 2014, with the following books in the series to be released in quick succession. Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, good coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Pinterest.
She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.
BUY TICKETS HERE: Callie Hart & Lili St. Germain are coming back to the US! Just in time for the release of their joint project Hell’s Kitchen. Join Callie and Lili, Saturday March 14th, at the super cool Inspire News Cafe from 5-7 for a special printing and signing of their newest book and a Q& A session. Then, come upstairs to the Wayfarer Bar, from 7-9 for cocktails (cash bar) and laughs. It’ll be a fun evening with Hell’s Kitchen chatter, some themed cocktails, light bites and a chance to spend some more time talking about all things Hart St Germain.
**Books that are printed will be available for purchase for around $10. Exact price to be confirmed closer to event date. This is pretty awesome! The machine that prints books while you watch is one of only 30 in the world! You’ll be able to take away your unique, limited edition of Hell’s Kitchen, signed by both authors – There will never be others that look like the ones printed in Vegas. **Snack foods will be provided. **All drinks are your responsibility
The Venues Inspire News Cafe (downstairs) and Wayfarer Bar (upstairs) are both gorgeous, hip venues with kick ass atmosphere! The Wayfarer bar is where we’ll finish the night and is a gorgeous, mad-men inspired bar that will be closed just for attendees! BUY TICKETS HERE
She was mine. Our love unquestioned. Our futures planned. But she didn’t show. All that we had, all that we meant, and after all that was said, she just didn’t show. That one act by her changed everything, but it especially changed me and from that moment on, there was no going back. No words of love, no whispered promises, just sex and drugs and rock and roll. No one gets a piece of Reed, but what they will get is the night of their life, the chance to let go, break their own rules and enjoy the best, the dirtiest, filthiest sex ever… Along with the other four people in my bed.
I thought he loved me, I believed everything he said, every promise that he made but then, when I needed him more than I’d needed anyone in my life, when I was at my most vulnerable, he let me down. He chose to take a different path and leave me to pick up the pieces of my now broken life. I was changed forever and chose the easy option, letting others take charge of my destiny, until once again, I’m let down in the cruelest of ways.
Dirty filthy sex.
Love.
Heartbreak.
Betrayal.
High emotion.
And a bit more sex.
Conviction by International bestselling author, Lesley Jones has it all.
I was born and raised in a small working class town in Essex, just outside of East London. I am married with three sons and in 2006 we all moved to the other side of the world, settling on the beautiful Mornington Peninsula, about 50K outside of Melbourne, Australia. It’s a whole new way of life for us down here, we are so lucky to live in such a beautiful part of the world. I am currently a stay at home mum but in the past I have worked at Marks & Spencer, as a classroom assistant/teachers aid and have run my business. As well as writing, I love to read and have been known to get through four or five books a week. My other interests are watching my boys play football…The round ball version. I am happy to admit to being an addict of social media and I owe a lot to my Facebook and Twitter family in promoting my work. I am also rather partial to a glass… or bottle of wine, a nicely chilled Marlborough Sav Blanc being my favorite. Being a born and raised Essex girl, I will happily admit to be being a big fan of spray tans, Shellac and am regularly, waxed, tinted and sculpted, although I am more likely to be found in thongs/flipflops than a pair of white stilettos these days.
At that moment, Gabe knew he had fallen for her. The first time he laid eyes on Sofy he knew that she was for him and he was hers. However, she was already taken by a dangerous man. A man that would kill before letting her go. But Gabe was willing to put his life in harm’s way to be with the woman he was in love with.
This suspenseful and sexy short story is full of excitement. It gives joy to the imagination and makes the heart beat a little faster.
