Homeless, hungry and desperate enough to steal, Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from.
A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, pu$$y or a combination of all three.
King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go.
Warning:This book contains graphic violence, consensual and nonconsensual sex, drug use, abuse, and other taboo subjects and adult subject matter. Although originally slated to be a standalone, KING is now a two part series.
Excerpt (Not previously released)
“Hey there,” a deep voice rumbled against my ear. When I turned around, I was eye level with a wall of leather with white patches sewn into it. One read VICE PRESIDENT and the other, BEACH BASTARDS. The man wearing the vest had long blonde hair that draped over to one side of his head, revealing the shaved area beneath. He had a beard, not stubble, a full-on beard that was a few inches long and very well groomed. He stood well over six feet, his frame lean yet very cut and muscular. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because his lids hung heavy and were slightly reddened. His entire neck was covered with colorful tattoos and when he went to light a cigarette I noticed that the backs of both of his hands and were covered in ink as well. “Hey,” I answered back, trying to assert my newly found false confidence. He was beyond attractive. He was gorgeous. If I had to end up in someone’s bed, I imagined that being in his wouldn’t be half-bad. He sniffled, drawing attention to the light dusting of white powder trapped in his nostrils. “They call me Bear. You belong to anyone?” he asked seductively, leaning in toward me. “Maybe…you?” I winced at my choice of words. Of all the fucking things I could have said, THAT was what came to mind? Stupid fucking mouth. Nikki was right. I spoke first and thought second. Bear chuckled. “I’d love that, beautiful, but I got something else in mind.” “Oh, yeah? What would that be?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light although my mind and heart were racing. “This party? It’s for my buddy. And he was down here for a total of thirty minutes before he hightailed it upstairs to drown himself in a bottle of Jack. He’s like a cat in a tree, can’t seem to talk him down. It’s understandable, seeing as he’s been away a while, but I figure you can help me out.” He hooked his finger into the front of my skirt and slowly dragged me toward him until my nipples were flush up against his chest. He pressed his fingers into the skin right above my public bone and I resisted the urge to jump back by biting down on my bottom lip. “The BBB’s have never really been his thing.” He paused when he saw the confused look on my face at his abbreviation. “Beach Bastard Bitches.” He explained. “But you? You’re new. You’re different. You’ve got this cute little innocent thing going on, but I know you’re not or you wouldn’t be at this kind of party if that was your deal. I’m thinking he’ll like you.” Bear brushed his lips against the side of my neck. “So maybe you go up there. Make him happy for me. Make little him happy by wrapping those gorgeous lips around his cock for a while. Then when you’re done, bring him back down here to civilization. And maybe later, if you’re a good girl and do what you’re told, we can go back to the clubhouse and have some real fun.” He grazed his teeth along my earlobe. “Think you can you do that for me?” “Yeah, yeah I can do that,” I said. My skin prickling from his touch. And I could do it. I think. “What’s your name anyway?” Bear’s hand slowly traveled up the back of my leg, pushing up my skirt, it came to rest on my ass cheek, which was then exposed to anyone who might have been looking in our direction. “Doe. My name is Doe,” I breathed. “Fitting.” He said with a chuckle. “Well, my innocent looking little Doe.” Bear leaned in close and surprised me by planting a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips were soft, and he smelled like laundry detergent mixed with liquor and cigarettes. I was just beginning to think that the kiss meant that he’d changed his mind and didn’t want me to send me away to his friend, but no such luck. He pulled away abruptly and turned me around by my shoulders so that I was facing the stairs. He swatted me on my ass, propelling me forward. “Up the stairs you go, sweetheart. Last room at the end of the hallway. Be good to my boy, and me and you will get to play later.” He sealed his words with a wink and as I made my way up the stairs I turned back and flashed him a fake smile. I hoped the guy at the end of the hallway was like Bear, because then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Then a thought hit me that had me fighting back the tears that sprung from my eyes with a sudden force that almost took me to my knees. I’d officially sold myself, and the price was far more than any dollar amount.
About the Author:
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one. It will not be about hamsters.
***WARNING*** This novel contains explicit language, sex, drugs, violence, and sexual situations that some might find offensive. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.
In my world, there is no such thing as love. It is just a lie we whisper into our client’s ear. Love is foreign and hazardous. What I did not expect was to bare my soul to a man who is as egotistical as he is dangerous. His name is Landon. Despite his blackened soul, he tried to save me, but what he didn’t expect was my torturous fate to catch up with me. To your father, I’m the escort. To your mother, I’m the whore. To the legal system, I’m the prostitute. In the end, I’m just the other woman. I have no idea if I will continue to survive, if I will ever find my path aside from the gritty streets I know so well. There is a good chance I will wind up in the ditch like most women in my position. Surrendering to my fate is the only choice I have. I must relinquish it all.
Excerpt:
“What do you think you’re doing?” I question, my words muffled from arousal. He doesn’t respond, just caresses his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck seductively, causing my head to loll to the side. A rush of desire races through my chest, and my breathing picks up. “We can’t, remember? You’re my pimp, and I’m you’re escort. Rules,” I whimper, reminding him of his words from last night. He growls, the sound of his teeth grating. “Don’t ever call me that,” he rasps into my ear. The heat of his breath causes me to moan. He turns me around and picks me up, his fingers digging into my dress-cladded thighs. “What if you’re not my escort right now? No rules,” he breathes heavily, placing me down on his desk. “Like, pretending?” I question, digging my heels into his ass, pushing him closer. “Exactly,” he whispers, brushing my hair from my face. “Just two normal people.” “How do normal couples meet? What do ordinary people do when they’re together?” I murmur, not having the first clue how a normal couple does things. Landon slides his hands up each of my thighs, pushing my dress up quickly, revealing my smooth legs and thighs. “We met on a golf course. I asked you out on a date,” he mutters, his words drawn out and heavy with his harsh breathing as I undo his pants. “I don’t sleep with a guy until date number three,” I inform him, my hands fisting his hard cock and pulling it free. My mouth parts when I see it. I forgot how big, how thick it is. He hisses through his teeth as I slide my fingers along his shaft. “Two, because you couldn’t resist me when I bought you some stupid necklace my shitty-paying job paid for,” he grunts. His hand dips below my dress and pulls my thong to the side, swiping a finger between my wetness, causing me to buck against his hand with an uncontrollable urge.
About the Author: M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. She started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.
She said I was like a song. Her favorite song. A song isn’t something you can see. It’s something you feel, something you move to, something that disappears after the last note is played.
I won my first fight when I was eleven years old, and I’ve been throwing punches ever since. Fighting is the purest, truest, most elemental thing there is. Some people describe heaven as a sea of unending white. Where choirs sing and loved ones await. But for me, heaven was something else. It sounded like the bell at the beginning of a round, it tasted like adrenaline, it burned like sweat in my eyes and fire in my belly. It looked like the blur of screaming crowds and an opponent who wanted my blood.
For me, heaven was the octagon.
Until I met Millie, and heaven became something different. I became something different. I knew I loved her when I watched her stand perfectly still in the middle of a crowded room, people swarming, buzzing, slipping around her, her straight dancer’s posture unyielding, her chin high, her hands loose at her sides. No one seemed to see her at all, except for the few who squeezed past her, tossing exasperated looks at her unsmiling face. When they realized she wasn’t normal, they hurried away. Why was it that no one saw her, yet she was the first thing I saw?
If heaven was the octagon, then she was my angel at the center of it all, the girl with the power to take me down and lift me up again. The girl I wanted to fight for, the girl I wanted to claim. The girl who taught me that sometimes the biggest heroes go unsung and the most important battles are the ones we don’t think we can win.
**This is David ‘Tag’ Taggert’s book, a supporting character introduced in The Law of Moses. This is a stand-alone story.
Excerpt #1
Amelie and Henry didn’t come by the gym the next day. On Saturday, I thought I saw them once, beyond the wall of windows along the front of the gym, but when I looked again they were gone. I shrugged, deciding Henry must not have been as excited by the idea as Amelie thought he would be. A few minutes later I looked up to see them hovering near the speed bags, Amelie holding firmly to Henry’s arm, Henry looking as if he was about to bolt and drag his poor sister with him. They were garnering some strange looks—Henry with his crazy bedhead, his darting glances, and jittery hands and Amelie because she stood so still and looked so out of place in a gym filled with muscles and men. I called a quick halt to my bout, escaping Axel, who was trying to pummel me into next week, and slid between the ropes that cordoned off one of the octagons. “Amelie! Henry!” I called, noting how Amelie’s face was immediately wreathed in a relieved smile, a smile so wide it spread to her eyes, giving the illusion of sparkle and life. But Henry started backing up, pulling his sister with him. “Yo, Henry. Hold up, man.” I stopped several feet from them and lowered my voice. “Did you know that Jack Dempsey versus Jess Willard was the very first fight to be broadcast over the radio?” Henry stopped moving and his hands stilled. “Do you know what year that was, Henry?” “1919,” Henry said in a whisper. “The first televised fight was in 1931. Benny Leonard vs. Mickey Walker.” “I didn’t know that.” Actually, I had only known about the Dempsey, Willard fight because I’d seen a biography on Dempsey on Netflix the night before. God bless Netflix. The mention of the radio had made me think of Henry and the sportscast blaring from his bedroom. “You wanna tell me more?” “David ‘Tag’ Taggert, light heavyweight contender with a professional record of eighteen wins, two losses, ten knock outs.” “You checked up on me, huh?” Henry’s mouth twitched, and he looked away shyly. “You did! What else did you find out? That all the ladies love me, that I’m the best looking fighter, pound for pound, in the universe?” Henry looked confused for a second, and I realized he was searching his mind for that stat. I laughed. “Just kidding, buddy.” “Six-foot three, 215 pounds, most often compared to Forrest Griffin and Michael Bisping?” Henry’s voice rose on the end, clearly seeking approval. “I’m more charming than Bisping, and I have better ears than Forrest. But they could both probably kick my ass.” “He said ass, Amelie!” Henry whispered, half shocked. “Yes he did, Henry. It’s okay. That’s how fighters talk,” Amelie soothed. “Can I say ass?” Henry whispered again, curiously. “You can,” I cut in, “after you learn how to fight.”
Excerpt #2
Millie opened the door to greet me, a smile on her lips, my name on her tongue, but I didn’t wait for her to release it. I wanted her to keep it, savor it, and never let it go. I needed my name to stay inside her so that I wouldn’t float away like a word that’s already been spoken. So I pressed my lips to hers and swung her up in my arms like a man in a movie, and my name became a cry that only I heard. I felt slightly crazed, and my kiss was frantic as I barreled up the stairs with Millie in my arms. My legs didn’t shake and my mind was clear, as if in its health my body was rebelling too. I wanted to roar and hit my chest. I wanted to shake my fists at the heavens, but more than anything I wanted Millie. I didn’t want to waste another second with Millie. Then we were in her room, the white comforter pristine and smooth, like Millie’s skin in the moonlight, and I laid her across it, falling down beside her. I was anxious. Needy. I wanted the safety of her skin, the absolution of her flesh, and the promise that came with it. I wanted to take. I wanted to cement myself in her memory and leave my mark. I needed that. I needed her. She matched my fervor like she understood. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. But she didn’t slow me down or beg me for reassurance. My hands were in her hair and tracing her eyes, fingering her mouth, pausing in the hollow of her throat. I wanted to touch every single part of her. But even as I lost myself in the silk of her skin and the sway of her movements against me, I felt the horror rise up inside of me and shimmer beneath my skin. It wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be enough, and I knew it, even as I closed my eyes and tried to make it be enough. I couldn’t breathe and my heart raced, and for a moment I thought I would tell her everything. She must have mistaken my fear for hesitation, the cessation of my breath for something else, because she cradled my face in her hands and pressed her forehead to mine. And then she whispered my name. “David, David, David.” It sounded like a song when she said it. And she kissed my lips softly. “David, David, David.” She chanted my name, like she couldn’t believe it was true, like she liked the way it felt in her mouth. “I love the way you call me David,” I said, and remembered the line from my silly song, the line that had no rhyme. “I love that you are mine,” she breathed, and the fear left me for a time. It tiptoed away and love took its place, love and belonging and time that can’t be stolen.
Buy The Song of David
Music & Lyrics by Amy Harmon and Paul Travis
– Song of David: iTunes
Amy Harmon is a USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author. Amy knew at an early age that writing was something she wanted to do, and she divided her time between writing songs and stories as she grew. Having grown up in the middle of wheat fields without a television, with only her books and her siblings to entertain her, she developed a strong sense of what made a good story. Her books are now being published in several countries, truly a dream come true for a little country girl from Levan, Utah.
Amy Harmon has written seven novels – the USA Today Bestsellers, Making Faces and Running Barefoot, as well as Slow Dance in Purgatory, Prom Night in Purgatory, Infinity + One and the New York Times Bestseller, A Different Blue. Her newest release, The Law of Moses, is now available. For updates on upcoming book releases, author posts and more, join Amy at her website.
SWIPE LEFT. That’s all I did. A few too many glasses of wine with my best friend and the bitch convinced me to go on one of those dating websites.
A one-night stand.
A booty call.
And you know what? It.was.amazing.
I spent all night in a sexy stranger’s arms, hot and sweaty, until it was time to sneak out and do the walk of shame back to my apartment.
I never thought I’d see sexy stranger again, and I was totally fine with that – until my mother’s wedding.
She’s getting remarried, see. And sexy stranger just happens to be my new stepbrother.
All the wine in the world isn’t going to make this better.
EXCERPT ONE
I’m reaching for a napkin when I see that Jai is on the other side of the table, helping himself to a generous portion of the oysters. “You know what they say about oysters,” he says. I pretend I didn’t hear him, but when I look over, he’s staring right at me. “What?” I hiss. “You think you’re being clever? You think you’re going to impress me with that totally unoriginal line, like I’ve never heard that oysters are an aphrodisiac? That’s not why I took some—I happen to like how they taste very much and as a poor college student, I can’t afford to eat like this!” He’s still staring. At my chest. Then the smirk returns. “Might want to pull up that dress, Janet Jackson.” “What?” I look down. My left breast has completely popped out of the top of the dress, my nipple there on full display for anyone who happens to be looking. “Shit!” I try to stuff myself back in the dress, dropping the plate of salad and oysters in the process. “Fuck!” “You know, they’ve got things you can paste on in these sorts of situations.” He reaches over and picks up the wayward oysters and puts them back on my plate. “I’m not eating those,” I say. “I need to talk to you.” I wriggle my shoulders and try to get myself as secure in the dress as I can before I hurry around to the other side of the buffet table. “I need to talk to you over here.” We go to the back of the restaurant, near the hallway to the bathroom, and I strategically place myself behind one of the columns that keeps us partially obscured from the rest of the restaurant. “Imagine meeting you here,” Jai says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I really had no idea. No idea at all. I knew I was going to be getting some stepsisters out of this blessed union, but I really had no clue—” “Are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to believe that? You’re a fucking dog. A total fucking asshole.” “I really do like the scarf. And the dress, too. You should’ve left the tit out. You’ve got great tits, you know.” “I do NOT want to talk about my tits!” “That’s certainly not the tune you were singing last night.” “Do you realize how not funny this is? What a complete disaster this is? OUR PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED. That means we’re going to be brother and sister.” “Step brother and sister. There’s a difference, darling.”
EXCERPT TWO
He brings his hand up and starts to touch my hip but I slap his arm away. “Don’t touch me!” He looks at me intensely. “You know you want me to.” His voice is low, a cross between a whisper and a growl. “You know you’d like nothing more than for me to take you right here, rip that tiny fucking dress off of you, and fuck you senseless. You know you want that. And so do I.”
Series Reading Order
Part Two Releasing June 25th
Part Three Releasing July 3rd
Part Four Releasing July 10th
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Scarlett Ward is a yoga-loving, coffee-drinking writer who finally took the plunge and wrote her first book. Her own stepbrother wasn’t remotely good-looking, but the one she dreamed up for Step F*@k is absolutely DIVINE.
Scarlett hates long walks on the beach. That shit is hard. She prefers laying out by the pool with her laptop, writing her next story while working on her tan.
Despite the fact that Lucky had just casually mentioned that the lobby lounge serves coffee beginning at six a.m., I’m pretty sure of myself that she’ll be down there. But when I step off the elevator, the lobby is quiet. Empty. The coffee urns are just being set up in the lounge. I pour two mugs, make them just as we like it, and settle on one of the couches on the far side of the room where it’s private, yet I can still keep an eye on the door. I grab a newspaper and begin to flip through to kill time. Then my eyes catch a pair of pink-painted toes in flip-flops. I don’t know why, but it’s in this moment that I realize, I’m fucked. The sight of her toes makes me smile. I’m falling for another guy’s girl. Something I promised myself I’d never do. But then I reason with myself. I haven’t done anything wrong. Thinking a woman is beautiful and spending time with her doesn’t have to turn into anything, right? They’re just toes after all. But look how cute they are. I’ve never been a foot guy, yet I wouldn’t mind sucking… Stop. Just stop. We’re just friends. Because I’ve been friends with so many hot women in the past and not fucked them? Yep. I’m screwed. I need to get the hell out of here. “Good morning,” she whispers and smiles down at me. My eyes lazily travel up from her toes. I’m totally not going anywhere. I hold up her mug of coffee. And then I realize she still has the thin shirt she wears to sleep on and I’m eye-level with the sexiest taut nipples I’ve ever seen. Screw sucking her toes… “Certainly is.” I grin.
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
When the fog is sucked away from my mind like smoke through a vacuum, the truth that has been beyond my reach for months finally reveals itself.
But the relief I thought I would feel never comes, and I’m more afraid now than I was the morning I woke up handcuffed in King’s bed.
Because with the truth comes dark secrets I was never meant to know. I will put the lives of those I love most at risk if I let on that my memory has returned, or if I seek help from the heavily tattooed felon who owns me body and soul.
I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the magnetic pull toward King that grows stronger every day.
He’s already saved me in more ways than one. Now it’s my turn to do whatever it takes to save him.
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazierresides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one. It will not be about hamsters.
In the second installment of the Beachy Bride series, we follow the story of Katherine and Holst. A tale of shaking off the past, embracing the future, and finding true love. (Stand-alone)
*Warning: this is a love story with sexual situations and copious swearing. It also deals with an inappropriate relationship between an underage girl and a much older man. When Katherine Symes experiences heartbreak at the age of twenty, she picks herself up, dusts herself off, and declares no man will ever break her again. The independent, potty-mouthed Katherine makes no apologies for how she lives her life. Marriage, babies, and husbands are ideas she’s never even entertained. There is only one thing she’s never had the guts to do.
Open her own cafe.
The day of her best friend’s engagement, a stranger bulldozes his way into her life. Handsome, tall, and annoying as hell, he pushes all her buttons. A mutual acquaintance introduces them, and the stranger, Holst Rutherford, wastes no time in presenting Katherine with half ownership in a coffee shop he wants to open in Laguna Beach; he just doesn’t want to do it alone.
Can she put up with Holst to achieve her lifelong dream?
Holst moved to the coastal town of Laguna Beach with clear intentions: a fresh start, concentrate on his new business, and enjoy the beach at his doorstep. After ending a toxic relationship, he never considered entering a new one. But there is something about the ever-combative Katherine which makes him realize she could be much more than a business partner. She just might be the one.
However, she is going to need a little convincing.
Teaser Quotes
Teaser One:
He looked around my bedroom for some weird reason, then said, “Baby?” He dipped his head so he was right against my ear. “You aren’t weak, and I’m sure you can take care of yourself, but I think it’s time you let a man help who will make sure, when all is said and done, you have someone to walk out of battle with at your side.” Fuck, I was gonna fall in love with him, that dirty, sneaky, big-dicked, perfect-mouthed, motherfucker. Apparently, he got all that from the look on my face and smiled. “At least you didn’t say what you were thinking out loud.”
Teaser Two:
When I stood before her, nude, my body wet with saltwater from the ocean, I wanted her. I wanted to take all that attitude and fuck it away…her sarcasm, her filthy mouth, her passion, her pain, and show her what a real man was. Katherine declared she was a woman of her word, and I was a perfect match for her…a loyal man. Always.
Teaser Three:
“I will treasure that back-handed compliment until I take my dying breath, Katherine.” “Keep calling me Katherine and that dying breath might come quicker than you think,” I rallied, thankful the coffee was bringing me back to my good ole self again. “There she is.” He smiled wide, and fuck him for having perfectly straight, white teeth.
Excerpt
“I’m not angry. I’m pissed. There’s a difference.” “You do understand, I was trying to give you some space.” “Loud and clear…dickhead.” “I don’t require space, Katherine.” “And that means what to me?” She wasn’t trying to hide the bitchiness in her tone, but my words had disarmed her commitment to that attitude. “It means that I had a conversation with a friend who helped…guide me, and if you feel that the time is now, I will eventually find someone to take over my lease, and your garage will be filled with surfboards and skis, your closet will be filled with my clothing, and my name will be added to the utilities.” Then, without warning, she hung up. And promptly called back. “Hello, Katherine.” I chuckled. “Stop fucking doing that!” she demanded. “Doing what?” “Making me happy. Just…try to piss me off a little. Like, leave the toilet seat up or something.” “I’m going to take this opportunity to remind you I pissed you off an hour ago, and less than a minute ago, you were still holding tight to that anger.” “Whatever,” she huffed, but I could hear she was fighting a giggle.
Julie is a Southern California native, a fan of a really good story (preferably romance with a happily ever after), really good pie (preferably pumpkin) and copious amounts of coffee (preferably Folgers). She has always enjoyed writing and at one time thought she could be a singer songwriter… the ‘writer’ part is the one that stuck. Julie is obsessed with pi…the equation(and the food). She’s allergic to cats and cantaloupe and hates mushrooms…so if you ever want to give her a gift, those are out for sure.She currently lives with her own romance hero husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.
Dax Davies has one job to fulfill in the Davies household. Earn money at the family business. The problem is that the family business was illegal underground fighting.
From a young age, Dax and his brothers are groomed to become money earners in their father’s club. Broken bones and bruises are commonplace. Their father pits the brothers against each other to ‘toughen them up’ for the ring, using his rules to bend his sons to his will. His future is in the cage, not on stage where he dreams of making music.
Kate Campbell loves one thing in life. Well, two. Soccer and Dax Davies. Growing up in the poorest part of London, soccer is her personal escape from reality and from the fact that Dax doesn’t seem to know she exists. She figures if she can be good enough at soccer, maybe she can get away from Hackney, and leave the poverty behind.
Kate doesn’t plan on ever getting to know Dax as more than a passing acquaintance. In fact, she isn’t meant to go with her friend to Dax’s father’s business, but that one night changes everything.
***This is book 2 in the Sphere of Irony Series. It can be read as a standalone. This is a spin-off of the Famous Series***
Excerpt. Dax notices Kate Dax’s POV
I follow Adam’s gaze to see Ellie hurrying towards us, towing a friend by the hand. Ellie immediately latches on to Adam, prattling on about something or other. Tuning out the happy couple, I take a moment to check out Ellie’s friend, Kate. I’ve seen her around, mostly with Ellie, but she’s in my maths class as well. In fact, now that I think about it, we’ve been in school together a long time. The fact that I didn’t remember her until now makes me frown, which in turn, makes Kate’s eyes go wide with fear. The girl is fiddling with her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. She’s clearly uncomfortable around me, so, being the heartless prick that I am, I decide to make it worse. “You’re Kate.” When impossibly green eyes shoot up to meet mine, big and innocent looking, all of the smartass comments I have at the ready fall away. Smooth, lightly freckled skin flushes pink and full lips part, making my cock sit up and take notice. It’s then I realize I’ve never really looked at Kate before. How did I not see how gorgeous this girl is? She’s not obvious or flashy—no, she’s very… girl next door. Sporty and fit with tawny brown hair always pulled up on her head, showing off two very high cheekbones. I’m surprised how affected I am by her. My heart has begun thumping hard and my palms are sweaty. How angry would Adam be if I shagged Ellie’s best friend? Probably very. Not that I care much what he thinks. While I’m thinking of how she looks naked, she gathers herself together and answers my question. “Yes. I’m Kate.” Shit, even her voice affects me—soft and slightly scratchy in a sexy kind of way. Now my dick is throbbing, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper. I need to hear that voice again. “I’m Dax. You’re in my maths class.” Those emerald eyes get even wider and her jaw hangs open. “How do you know who I am?” Huh? “Why wouldn’t I know who you are? Haven’t we been in the same year for ages?” I furrow my brow, trying to decide if I’m thinking of a different girl. But no, it’s her, I’m sure of it. “Y-y-yes. Since third year.” I hold back a smile, keeping my cool exterior. At least I got that right. “Well then, apparently I’m not as stupid as some might say.” Kate’s fingers untwist from her hair, settling on her hips. Lush, ruby lips turn down in the corners and her eyes narrow. She looks downright offended. “Who says you’re stupid? You’re in my advanced maths class, so I know that can’t be true.” For once in my life I’m speechless. No one ever gives me the benefit of the doubt or defends my intelligence. Do I bother explaining to her that most people associate a big, muscled guy with an empty skull? Add in the underground fighting and they assume I’ve taken enough hits to the head to be rendered daft and dumb. No one talks about it, but the teachers here know what I do—what my dad’s business is. I am the fourth Davies son at this school after all and they treat me accordingly. They don’t even bat an eye at the bruises anymore. I tilt my chin to look down at her. Kate’s not at my eye level, but for a girl, she’s fairly tall—maybe five foot seven or eight? In those eyes, eyes as green as the stripes on the Davies family tartan, I see something I haven’t seen on a girl’s face in… well, ever. Admiration? Respect, maybe? Is it possible Kate respects me? That she sees past my intimidating exterior to the man beneath the brawn? That she sees more than just a conquest to brag to her friends about? One of dad’s rules pops into my head. Rule 2—Never let your emotions show. I lock down the surprise on my face, keeping it to its usual icy façade. What if she doesn’t like what she finds? I don’t know why I care, but suddenly, I don’t want Kate to know about the fighting, the girls, my family… those goddamn rules. For the first time in my life I’m not proud of my wins, of all the girls I’ve shagged or had suck me off at the club or behind the school. For once, I’m truly ashamed of what I am.
Incite (Book One) The Sphere of Irony Series Now ONLY $0.99
After growing up in New England, I currently live just outside Atlanta, GA. I love the Red Sox and hate the Yankees. I love hot, sexy romance novels, but hate long, drawn out misunderstandings as a plot line. I love book series, but hate cliffhangers. I love alpha males, but hate when they borderline on abusive. Mostly? I love love love chocolate.
The New York Times bestselling author of Slow Burn turns up the heat when a sexy bet turns into so much more….
Hawkin Play, the bad boy rock star with a good guy heart, has lived a lifetime of cleaning up after his twin brother’s mistakes. Hunter’s most recent screwup could land Hawke in jail and risk the band’s future. Hawke agrees to guest lecture at a local college to stay in the judge’s good graces — and a bet with his bandmate to seduce his sexy teaching assistant is icing on the cake.
Quinlan Westin is harder to bed than Hawke imagined. She knows his type and is determined to avoid the rocker at all costs — even if their attraction runs deeper than simple lust. Just as Hawke might finally be winning over the girl, his brother has other plans. When Hunter realizes his twin finally has a weakness, he’ll stop at nothing to take advantage….
EXCERPT
Quinlan
I walk toward him, the sight of him slightly unkempt with a carefree smile he hasn’t possessed for days calls to my libido on so many levels it’s ridiculous. He brings a shot of something to his mouth and I don’t even give a second thought to what it is because I know I’ll taste it on my lips momentarily. He hums deep in his throat when I step up into his body and there is something so inherently sexy about the sound—knowing that I caused that reaction—that together with the feel of his firm body against mine lets me know there will be no interruptions this time. He looks at me, eyes darkening and one hand sliding beneath my shirt a beat before our lips meet in a hungry, no-holds-barred kiss. His empty bottle clatters on the counter behind him so that his other hand can join in the temptation. I lose myself in the taste of the tequila on his tongue, and the hypnotizing feeling of his hands on my body. The music thumps hard around us, the noise buzzes, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke wafts in from outside but it’s as if none of it hits me because I’m consumed by everything about him: his taste, his cologne, the groan I can’t hear but can feel against our connected chests, the heat of his body. I don’t care who’s watching because it’s almost as if the overwhelming emotions that he’s experienced all week long are manifesting themselves into our mutual desperation. “Upstairs. Now,” he murmurs against my lips, and I’ve never heard more perfect words. He grasps the bottle of tequila behind him in one hand and my hand in the other without saying anything further and walks with purpose through the crowd. I can’t see his face but he must have a determined look on it because not one person stops him to talk when that’s been the norm for the evening thus far. At the bottom of the stairs, I catch the eyes of the three wannabe women and just smirk. Call me bitchy, but I can’t help it, I’m with the one they were hoping to land tonight.
About the Author:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her —
the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard.
K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.
On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015
“Holy shit,” she said softly. “That’s a nice car.” “You like it?” he asked, sounding proud of himself. “Who wouldn’t?” The newest model convertible Corvette Stingray was likely the sexiest car of them all. She’d always had a fondness for sports cars, but she’d never been truly fond of Corvettes. At least not until they recently released the Stingray again. Max stepped in front of the car, blocking her view of the car. “Happy Birthday.” “How…?” Confused she studied him. “How did you know?” “What? That it was your birthday or that you’d want that car?” Courtney peered around him. “That… That’s for me?” “It is,” he told her. “Now go check it out.” Feeling slightly off kilter, Courtney slowly moved around the car, her gaze darting between Max and the sleek shark gray metallic car. “Seriously, Max. This is… Well, it’s incredible, but you know I can’t take this car.” “Yes you can,” he told her simply. The top was open so she peered inside, taking in the sexy jet black leather interior. She wondered what it would feel like behind the wheel. “Get in,” he told her as he opened the passenger side door. When he slipped into the car, she grinned. What the hell. It wouldn’t hurt to take it for a test drive, right? And then, when they got back she’d tell him she couldn’t keep it. Because falling in love with him was one thing, accepting a car that likely cost him close to a hundred grand was something entirely different. ——————————————————————–
“Pull over,” Max instructed when they were hidden by a copse of trees deep on his land. He’d wanted her to test drive the Corvette, but admittedly he’d had something else in mind as well. Another birthday present for her. Courtney stopped the car, frowning when she looked over at him. “Don’t look so upset,” he said with a smile. “Now get out.” If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of concern in her eyes, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to think that she’d fear him for any reason. She’d surprised him earlier when she muttered for him not to hurt her and he had to wonder where that was coming from. Then again, she knew him, knew what he was capable of. But in the same sense, if she ever thought he would hurt her, she didn’t know him at all. Once she met him at the front of the car. Max turned to her, taking her into his arms and crushing his mouth to hers, his hands trailing the thin fabric that covered her. She’d worn a skirt, which had been his suggestion and again, he’d had something in mind when he made the request. He had to wonder whether she’d figure that out yet or not. Easing her back onto the hood of the car, Max pulled back enough to look at her. “Kick off your shoes. Wouldn’t want you to scratch the paint.” Courtney grinned, and her shoes hit the ground. “Now for my next gift,” he told her. “And that would be?” She asked, grinning. “An orgasm. On the hood of your car.” Hmm. I like the sound of that.”
Sometimes love isn’t beautiful…
Meet Max & Courtney is this southern mafia romance!
Sometimes love isn’t beautiful… Sometimes the only way to describe it is beautifully brutal. If you think you know him… You’re wrong. If you think you know his family… Wrong again. If you think you know his story… You don’t. If you did, you’d likely wonder how the hell a man like Maximillian Adorite managed to make it to this point in his life. At twenty-nine, he’s experienced more than most people could only ever imagine, all thanksto his family. Organized crime they call it. Mafia. No matter how they spin it, it comes down to one thing. Max gets what he wants. Except for the one thing he wants most. Her name is Courtney Kogan. And now that he’s had a taste of her, Max knows he’ll never be able to let her go. The Southern Boy Mafia series is a spinoff from the Sniper 1 Security series. It has been set up to be read without reading Sniper 1 Security, however, the characters will frequently cross over.
New York Times bestselling author Nicole Edwards launched her professional writing career in July of 2012. Having been an avid reader all of her life and a huge fan of creative writing, it seemed the likely path for her to take. Since then, she has released fifteen books and has no plans to stop. As her full-time career/hobby, Nicole writes steamy contemporary and erotic romances. Nicole is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who was born and raised in Texas. Married with three kids and four dogs, she has plenty of interaction to keep her imagination brewing. Her books have been featured in USA Today’s Happy Ever After segment as well as Indie Reader’s best seller list. She has forged her way as an independent author. Although she has a bachelor’s degree in Human Resources, she prefers to be hiding out in her writing cave, talking to the fictional characters that have built up in her head over the years. When she isn’t writing or plotting her next book (sometimes translated to “playing on Facebook”), Nicole loves to read and spend time with her family and her dogs.
![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]](https://booklovingpixies.me/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/beat-cover.jpg)
Book Loving Pixies 