Today we have the blog tour for The Lucky Heart by Devney Perry! Be sure to grab your copy now!
Title: The Lucky Heart
Author: Devney Perry
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About The Lucky Heart:
Life on his ranch could be their future. If they can overcome their past.
Felicity’s life story reads like the script to a bad soap opera. Girl’s high-school boyfriend becomes a drug addict. Girl falls for boyfriend’s best friend. Girl leaves them both behind only to return home years later for murdered ex-boyfriend’s funeral. Now she’s back home in Montana, ready to start fresh. She’s got a long list of amends to make and relationships to rebuild, including one with the man who has owned her heart for sixteen years.
Silas doesn’t need much. He’s got a great horse, close friends and the Lucky Heart ranch, but something has always been missing. He’s not an idiot. He knows the missing piece is Felicity. And now that she’s returned to Prescott, he’s got a second chance to win her heart. This time, the only thing standing in his way is history. Drudging up the past is going to be about as painful as playing tug of war with barbed wire. But if they can heal old wounds, he’ll get the girl he should have had all along.
This amazing series just keeps getting better!
The Lucky Heart is a second chance romance with amazing characters and a rich, emotional backstory!
Silas and Felicity have been friends for most of their lives and as they got older an undeniable attraction grew. Silas has loved his best friend’s little sister from the beginning, but Felicity was with Wes, his other best friend. Then, Wes let Felicity down and she ran. She only returned a few times in sixteen years, but when she did their attraction flared and led to nights together, only for the to separate again in the morning. Now, Felicity is back for good and ready to make amends, but she and Silas are on shaky ground.
I loved this book! I appreciated that Perry didn’t make their journey an easy one. There were so many things at play in the book including Felicity’s lack of confidence in Silas’s ability to forgive and her own self-confidence. Family interference and misjudgment also play into things. But, there is a pleasure in reading about a character’s redemption and Felicity deserved hers.
If you haven’t read the series yet, do so. You don’t have to read the other books in the series first as all are written as interconnected standalones, but there are some spoilers in each book. This is a definite must read!
Devney lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.
Today we have the cover reveal for Speed by BB Easton! Check it out and pre-order your copy before release day on September 11th!
Title: SPEED Author: BB Easton Genre: New Adult Romance Release Day: September 11th
Because BB Easton had so much fun writing her bestselling, award-winning memoir, 44 CHAPTERS ABOUT 4 MEN, she decided to give each of her four men his own steamy standalone! SPEED is the second book in the 44 Chapters spin-off series—a gritty, taboo love triangle overflowing with dark humor and tangible teen angst. It is based on a true story.
After her possessive, psychopathic, rage-fueled ex, Knight, joins the Marines, sixteen-year-old BB is left trying, and failing, to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. It isn’t until she meets Harley James—an easy-going, tattooed mechanic with a face as angelic as his habits are sinful—that she learns how to live again. How to laugh again. But will she learn to love again?
When I woke up on my sixteenth birthday, I didn’t leap out of bed to go get my driver’s license. I wasn’t thinking about the appointment I had to buy my first car that afternoon—a car that I’d been saving for since the day I turned fifteen and was legally able to work. I didn’t give two shits about going to the mall, or opening presents, or eating a fucking piece of fucking cake. All I wanted for my birthday was to sleep through it, because whenever I was awake, so was my gnawing, soul-crushing pain. I could feel it chewing through the lining of my stomach, devouring my once bubbly personality, sucking the energy from my bones like marrow, swallowing my will to live. Being eaten alive hurt. Being awake hurt. Being asleep didn’t.
I reluctantly opened my eyes and glanced over at the nightstand. The red numbers on the clock announced that I’d slept past noon again. The blueberry muffin sitting next to it with a candle shoved haphazardly in the top told me that my mom must have come in and tried to wake me up. My wide-open blinds—which were letting in an obscene amount of summer sun—let me know that she’d tried more than once. And that little white pill and glass of water on my nightstand? Well those only pissed me off.
I sat up and squinted at the assorted bullshit on the table until I spotted my pack of Camel Lights. Swinging my spindly legs over the edge of the mattress, I reached past the food and water, opting for poison instead. I lit a cigarette and waited for that comforting, calming first inhalation to do its thing, but even smoking had become joyless. Just like everything else, I was going through the motions.
Hand to mouth.
I ashed my cigarette in an empty Altoids tin on the nightstand and stared at the pill my mother had left for me—the tiny white hope that had turned out to be just another disappointment. I picked it up and inspected it. If it hadn’t had the word PROZAC stamped on the side of it I would have assumed they’d just been giving me Tic Tacs.
That shit did nothing. Nothing but mute the vibrant colors of my world to a dirty, dull gray. Instead of my feelings being a violent riot of bitter, angry crimsons, churning, crashing ceruleans, and blinking, cautionary yellows, my inner world was now as gray as the cloud of smoke that hung four feet above the floor and three feet below the ceiling in my bedroom. As gray as my skin, where it draped between my ribs and puddled in the hollows of my cheeks and eye sockets.
As gray as the fading knight tattoo on the inside of my wedding ring finger.
I threw the glorified breath mint across the room and listened to the plink, plink, plink sound it made as it bounced off the wall, onto my “desk”—which was just two filing cabinets and an old door that my mom had scrounged up at Goodwill and spray painted black—and landed in a heap of shiny army-green nylon on the floor.
My chest felt as if someone had come up behind me and yanked the laces on an invisible corset. Tears stabbed at the corners of my eyes as images began flashing, unbidden, behind them. Images of a skinhead standing behind me at my locker, sliding an army-green flight jacket up my arms and over my shoulders to warm my perma-chilled skin. Images of his smile when he turned me around to admire the fit. I’d never seen him smile before. Not like that. Making him do it again soon became my reason for getting out of bed every morning.
Now what reason did I have? Knight was gone. All I had left was his stupid fucking jacket.
BB Easton lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia with her long-suffering husband, Ken, and two adorable children. She recently quit her job as a school psychologist to write stories about her punk rock past and deviant sexual history full-time. Ken is suuuper excited about it.
Single father, Weston Parker is set in his ways, and raising his daughter is his top priority. But his ten-year-old feisty little girl is growing up faster than he ever realized. Her go-getter attitude is one he’s seen before–mainly on himself. When she starts trading in her ponytails for makeup, Weston realizes he just might be in over his head. Dedicated and driven veterinarian, Timber Sellers always knew that she’d head back home, but she wasn’t quite ready for it to happen so soon. Running into the stubborn and bossy Weston from her high school days doesn’t make it any better either. But when she meets his spunky daughter, Timber knows she’s right where she’s supposed to be. As Timber grows closer to Weston’s daughter, his rough exterior softens. Suddenly, the heat between them explodes and neither can deny the attraction. Weston always goes after what he wants, and this time, he wants a future with Timber.
“You comin’ or what?” “Hey Marsha, ‘nother round when you get a chance,” I say as I move toward Timber. As we begin a friendly game of pool, I try my best to concentrate on beating her ass, but each time she bends over to shoot the ball, my mind goes straight to the gutter. Damn, it’s been too long if I can’t get Timber out of my head. “Let’s see you do that, big boy,” she challenges as she makes me look like a fool then takes a swig of her beer. I do my best and hit only one ball in the corner pocket, which is better than nothing. We finish our game and then take a seat at the bar. “So what made you come back?” “Daddy’s retiring and I’m taking over. He hasn’t told anyone yet, but I’m sure most people have figured it out already. Why else would I be back?” “Maybe because you were tired of Texas.” “Never. Weston, ohmygawsh, it’s amazing out there. Not only was I in the city, which is crazy in itself, but I got to work the rodeo,” she pauses and smiles like she’s remembering a part of her life she never expected but couldn’t imagine not having experienced. “What you thinkin’?” “I always thought one day, I’d see you ride out there. Stupid, I know.” As she slightly blushes, I see a softer side to the Timber tornado that’s usually around. “Well, those days are done.” “You can’t be serious. You’ve still got time. Besides there’s one in three weeks and I’m going to be the on-duty vet.” “I said those days are gone. I can’t leave my daughter without a mama or a daddy.” She lays her hand on my leg. “I’m sorry, Weston. I wasn’t trying to start something. I thought you were considering it.”
“What?” “I heard our daddies talking. Your dad said there’s a few spots open and he thought you were considering it.” I feel my blood begin to boil and give her a stern look. “Simmer down, Cowboy. He said considering. Hey, Marsha, I think we need a couple of shots, and the stronger the better.” As the shot glasses are placed in front of us, I get a massive lump in my throat. It’s been over ten years since I took one with a girl by my side and it got me in a world of trouble. “Hello?” she says, waving her hand in my face. “What in the hell are you thinkin’ or do I even want to know?” “I’m gonna pass on the shot.” “My ass you are! It’s been a long time since we threw ‘em back.” “It’s been over ten years since I took a shot of anything.” “Oh… well, you can bet your bottom dollar you’re not getting in these pants tonight,” she says confidently. She takes the shot glass in her hand, and I do the same. We clink them together, tip them back, and I slam the glass on the table. Then I motion for Marsha to bring another one.
Casey Peeler grew up in North Carolina and still lives there with her husband and daughter. Growing up Casey wasn’t an avid reader or writer, but after reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston during her senior year of high school, and multiple Nicholas Sparks’ novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading. That love ignited the passion for writing several years later, and her writing style combines real life scenarios with morals and values teenagers need in their daily lives. When Casey isn’t writing, you can find her near a body of water listening to country music with a cold beverage and a great book.
Like the Aqua Net hairstyles back in the 80’s, the 90’s grunge fad, or the person you lost your virginity to as a teen because you were “totally in love”.
I have a few of my own. Specifically, marrying my rebound guy but staying married because I was too weak to fight for my own happiness.
He took me down and kept me there for far too long.
I’m done. Done living with regrets and done not pursuing what makes me happy.
Then you came along and showed me that I was worth more than who I had become.
You are not my regret.
Jodie Larson brings a sexy novel about self-respect, family, loyalty and letting go of regrets. Jocelyn’s story was important and powerful and all too relevant. This story is so well-written and I applaud Jodie Larson for her honest words and characters that are complex and well-developed. A beautiful, contemporary romance with heart and soul.
How could he see the things I tried so desperately to keep hidden from everyone? Perhaps I’m not as clever as I thought I was. Here I thought only Jacob saw it. But then Ann asked about it last night. Now Henry.
Everyone knows our little secret. We’re not the perfect family I try to portray.
A tear slowly rolls down my cheek. Henry wipes it away with his thumb. I gulp and blow out a quick breath. “He’s filed for divorce.”
Stunned silence greets me. “When?”
I chew my bottom lip. “Two weeks after I threw him out.”
Henry studies my face. “He hasn’t tried contacting you since?”
I shake my head. “Only through our lawyers.” Understanding and sympathy float across his eyes. “You’re the first person outside of my mom that I’ve admitted it to.”
Henry nods then looks down. “Last night was a rush for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything resembling that. Your text was surprising but completely welcome. And that dress…”
Heat coats my cheeks again. “I told you it was too short.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It was perfect. You looked incredibly sexy. That shade of blue is your color and those heels made your legs look sky high.”
“No mother should wear an outfit like that.”
He leans closer; his hot breath beating against my cheek. “You should wear that. As often as you can.”
No one has given me a compliment like that in…ever. I’m not sure how to respond, so I lick my lips and nod. Pretty sure my voice is gone at this point.
“Then you kissed me. It took everything I had to stop us before we got too far. I had my suspicions but wasn’t sure where you were with your situation. I’m not that kind of guy, Jocelyn. I won’t be a reason for you to cheat. You and I both deserve more than that.” My shoulders sag at the finality of his words. Once again, he tilts my face to meet his. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere. You intrigue me like no one else. Your quirks are adorable and I want to know the rest of them.”
“What are you saying?”
Henry clears his throat and puts a slight amount of distance between us. “I want us to start hanging out more. Get to know each other. Build this friendship until you realize we could be more. I know you’re unhappy and kicking Mike out is a start. But I need to protect myself in this, too. So, friends?”
He sticks his hand out, expecting a shake. His logic makes sense. I’m the wishy-washy party who can’t make a firm decision on how to proceed with my life. Friends means no kissing, or dirty text messages to each other. That’s probably for the best.
I place my smaller hand in his and shake. “Friends.”
Henry smiles, but it fades as he closes the small distance between us with a kiss. Short. Sweet. And completely unexpected.
“Sealed with a kiss.” He winks. Seriously. And with his hat off, his sexiness is off the charts.
“That doesn’t help.”
The man has no shame. His only response is that panty-dropping smile.
About JODIE LARSON
Jodie Larson is a wife and mother to four beautiful girls, making their home in northern Minnesota along the shore of Lake Superior. When she isn’t running around to various activities or working her regular job, you can find her sitting in her favorite spot reading her new favorite book or camped out somewhere quiet trying to write her next manuscript. She’s addicted to reading (just ask her kids or husband) and loves talking books even more so with her friends. She’s also a lover of all things romance and happily ever afters, whether in movies or in books, as show in her extensive collection of both.
WE ARE EXCITED TO BRING YOU THE COVER FOR CUFFED BY NEW YORK TIMES BEST SELLING AUTHOR K.BROMBERG RELEASING ON OCTOBER 23!
Design: Helen Williams
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
From the New York Times bestselling author, K. Bromberg, comes a new series about three brothers, the job that calls them, and the women who challenge them.
“I hate you. I never want to see you again.”
Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville—at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade, ring in my ears every time a townsperson brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again.
Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons—sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer. But Grant is off limits because he knows too much about my past.
But I’m drawn to him. That damn uniform of his doesn’t hurt either. It’ll be my downfall. I know it.
What’s one night of sex going to hurt . . . right?
I’ve always loved Emmy Reeves.
That’s why I’m shocked to see her all these years later. The shy girl I once knew is all grown up.
Adventurous and full of life, she owns my heart now, just as much as she did back then. Convincing her of that is a whole different story.
I’ll give her the one night she asks for—like that’s a hardship—but when it comes to letting her walk away after, she has another thing coming. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go this time without a fight.
New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.
A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.
Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times.
In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written.
She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales HERE
Sean McMillan has always lived a life more human than shifter. Upon joining Alpha Squad he is thrust into a whole new world which is taking some getting used to. When two shifters turn up dead under suspicious circumstances in the otherwise quiet town of Inverness, Scotland, Alpha Squad is sent in to uncover the truth. So far, so easy; murder investigations are what Sean does best. Trouble is, one of the witnesses is able to distract him just with her presence. And he can’t shake the feeling that she knows more than what she’s letting on.
Lab assistant Erin Reid thought her work at the research project led by leading Geneticist Professor Blake was benign enough, if excruciatingly boring. Little did she know that they were all embroiled in a deadly conspiracy. When she finds out what she’s been involved in, the resulting guilt weighs heavy on her and she vows to make things right.
What starts off as an ordinary murder investigation quickly turns into something bigger and more dangerous than anyone on Alpha Squad could foresee. Is shifter enemy No. 1 Victor Domnall back with a plan more devious than ever? Can Sean and the squad put all the pieces of the puzzle together before it’s too late?
ABOUT LORELEI MOONE
Lorelei Moone is an up-and-coming author of paranormal romance based in London. A lover of all things sweet, and caffeinated, when she’s not writing about sexy bear shifters and their strong-willed curvaceous love interests, Lorelei can be found baking cookies or cakes for her family.
Kindle Unlimited. And ONLY $.99 for a limited time only! The new STANDALONE
romantic comedy from the New York Times Bestselling author of THAT MAN and
three cardinal rules:
business with pleasure
Never let a
woman spend the night.
a woman with kids.
me out. God only knows how many this baby daddy has. Man, what was I thinking
when I was in college? Me, Drake Hanson. God’s gift to women. Aka Donor 5262.
It was a piece of cake and fifteen hundred dollars a month for my deposits (in
sperm bank speak) came in handy. Wank, bank, and go. I just didn’t think about
the consequences. One day, some kid is going to call me Daddy and I’m going to
get hit up for child support. Big time.
father is pressuring me to settle down because the investor who’s looking to
acquire his animation company doesn’t want a player running a family-oriented
business. Just in time, she came along. The temp. Dee Walker. The minute the
hot as sin brunette with her killer curves and those chocolate brown eyes
stepped foot in my office and saved me from an ugly disaster with her magic
hands, I wanted her to be mine. Except she’s totally off limits. And there’s
someone else she loves with all her heart and soul that I can’t replace.
Can my temp
become my forever before my past catches up with me? I’m willing to break all
With Tyson skating on her own close to the railing and Drake by her side, the twosome skated over to me.
“Mommy, skating is SO much fun! You should try it!”
“She’s right,” Drake chimed in.
“I’m afraid I’ll fall.”
“But, Mommy, you have a big butt so it won’t hurt.”
Mortification raced through me. I felt myself turning as red as a beet. Kids say the darndest things, right? Wrong! My sassy almost six-year-old had no filter.
Drake broke out into hysterical laughter.
I clenched my fists. I wanted to punch him. “It’s not funny.”
“Dee, you have a great butt. Now, get your ass on the ice.”
“C’mon, Mommy,” Ty pleaded. “Please, pretty please with a cherry on top.”
Drake’s laughter let up. “Mighty, why don’t you take a spin around the rink? You’re ready to skate all by yourself. Stay close to the railing and hold on to it if you have to.”
“Yay!” On my next breath, she took off. My breath caught in my throat, but she seemed to be managing just fine.
Drake stayed behind. All that separated us was the waist-high railing. He leaned into me. His sparkling blue eyes flickered with a mixture of determination and mischief while his warm breath heated my cheeks. His hands tugged playfully at the ends of my wool plaid scarf.
“Aren’t you going to skate with Tyson?”
He glanced in her direction. She was already halfway around the rink. “She’s doing just fine by herself. She’s a total natural. She reminds me of myself at that age. I took, like her, to the ice like a penguin.”
“But what if she falls?”
He shrugged. “She’ll get up.” He tugged again at my scarf. “C’mon, Dee, get your big beautiful butt on the ice.”
“That does it.”
My eyes stayed on him as he skated with amazing grace and speed to the entrance of the rink, stormed off the ice, and marched my way. In a single swoop, he hauled me over his shoulders.
“What the hell are you doing, Drake?”
“Getting you on the ice,” he responded, marching back to the entrance, one hand gripping me right below my ass.
“Put me down!” I began to kick my feet in protest.
“Behave! And stop kicking. Skate blades are sharp and can be very dangerous. I don’t want you to cut off my dick. I’d like to keep it intact. And the same with my balls.”
Rage filled every bone in my body. The asshole! He’d made me his captive like some kind of caveman. “Stop,” I shrieked at the top of my lungs as he marched us back on the ice and then raced around the rink at breakneck speed. We quickly caught up with Tyson.
“Hi, Mommy!” she yelled out as we flew by. I could hear her giggling as the whooshing sound of Drake’s skates sung in my ears.
Speeding around the ice, draped over Drake’s shoulder, I was getting dizzy. My arms hung loose like a ragdoll’s within groping distance of his perfect buns of steel. Blood rushed to my head. I’d had enough.
“Put me down!” I breathed out.
“Are you ready to stop acting like a brat?”
“I am not a brat!”
Without warning, he swatted my ass with his free hand. The slap stung straight through my thick leggings, but the incendiary sting strangely turned me on. A barrage of tingles blazed through me, clustering between my inner thighs.
“Put me down,” I yelled again.
He didn’t say a thing. Coming to a braking halt that left a skid mark on the ice, he set me on my feet. Standing behind me, he kept his hands anchored on my waist to keep me balanced. I stood as frozen as the ice, hoping he’d never let me go. Partly because I was nervous as shit. And mostly because it felt so good to have his hands touching me. The sparks coursing through my body were definitely not going to help with skating.
“Okay, I’m going to teach you how to skate. Trust me, you’re going to be the next Dorothy Hamill.”
I couldn’t help a nervous laugh. “I. Don’t. Think. So.”
He laughed his sexy laugh. “Think again.”
“Seriously, Drake, I don’t think I can do this.”
“Come on. If your five-year-old daughter can, so can you.”
My eyes darted to Tyson, who was circling around the rink. Her strokes were a little awkward, but she was definitely skating. And doing it well.
“Tyson is fearless,” I countered.
“What are you afraid of?” he breathed into my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a chill down my spine.
“Of falling.” Of falling for you.
“You won’t. I’ve got you. Now push off with one foot and then the other.”
Trembling, I did what he asked. My legs wobbled, but I moved three feet forward. A small victory on the slippery ice.
“Nice. Now do it again. But this time push from your hips, not your knees.”
“Okay,” I stammered. I did as he asked and noticed how much steadier and more powerful my strokes were. Still holding me firmly, he asked me to repeat the movements and I did so several more times. I’d probably skated a total of twenty feet.
“You’re doing great!” He let go of me with one hand.
Gah! Don’t let go of me.
And then he tugged at my ponytail before repositioning himself so that we were side by side. He laced his fingers with mine. My heart pounding, I squeezed his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice as contorted as my face.
“What does it look like? I’m holding your hand. We’re going to skate around the rink.”
“No, I’m not ready for this!” I protested. “I want to get off the ice.”
“Fine. You can get off by yourself. I’m going for a spin. See ya.”
To my utter horror, he let go of my hand and skirted off—skating backward, no less, the damn showoff, facing me with a Cheshire grin plastered on his face.
“Please, Drake,” I begged.
My begging only made his grin grow bigger. “Please what?”
“Please don’t leave me.” I’m not sure if he heard me because my voice was so shaky and small.
His grin morphed into a wicked smile, and in a few frantic heartbeats, he was again by my side. His fingers entwined with mine once more. How warm his hand felt next to my cold and clammy one. He gave my hand a little squeeze.
“I’m never going to leave you, D-baby.”
My heart jumped. He called me baby. He probably called every girl that, but the way he said it so tenderly made me think I was the first. Following his lead, I began to skate with more confidence. Loving every minute of our togetherness.
For about the next five or so minutes, we circled the rink, Drake holding my hand, me improving with each stroke. Once or twice I turned to look at him, and somehow at those moments, his gaze met mine. No words were spoken. Just silent smiles.
Midway around the rink, my baby called out to me. “Look, Mommy. No hands!”
Half elated, half fearful, I craned my head in her direction, losing focus on my strokes. Suddenly, one of my blades caught with Drake’s and my heart lurched in my chest at that horrible sensation that I—we?—were taking a tumble. “Shit,” I heard Drake mumble as the inevitable happened. On my next rapid heartbeat, I was flat on my back on the ice and he was splayed on top of me. We were a breath apart, his heart beating against mine. The warmth of his body caging mine was a sharp contrast to the cold ice beneath me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the heat of his breath warming my cheeks.
I gazed at his face. His lips were parted, his eyes smoldering. The heat of his body was melting the ice beneath me. Melting the distance that separated us.
The weight of Drake’s body kept me from moving. “Can you help me up?”
“Not yet. I like being on top of you.”
I like you on top too. “It can’t be that hard—”
“Yeah, it is that hard. Very hard.” He rocked his hips against me.
Gah! It was hard. Very, very hard.
His eyes blazing into mine, he traced my lips with his fingertip and then leaned in closer until I could practically taste his minty breath. I could feel my heart pounding, hear my breathing grow labored. My lips parted, partly because I needed to get oxygen into my lungs and partly because I wanted him to devour them. I wanted him to kiss me so badly I could scream. As his lips were about to touchdown, a little voice caused us both to jolt. Tyson.
Giggling, she skated up to us. “You guys look so funny!”
Yes, we were a tangled pile of arms and legs. But it was more than just the physical. Our emotions were all tangled up too.
“I’m hungry,” said my little girl.
Drake’s eyes burned into mine. “Me too.”
“Me three.” I’d never hungered for a man as much as I did for my new boss, Drake Hanson.
I should have felt relieved that Tyson didn’t catch us kissing, but instead I felt bereft.
I am a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin college-bound princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment industry with a prestigious Humanitas Prize for promoting human dignity and freedom to my credit, I gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, but I still enjoy playing with toys with my hubby. While I write in my PJs, I love to get dressed up and pretend I’m Hollywood royalty. My steamy stories feature characters that will make you laugh, cry, and swoon and stay in your heart forever. They’re often inspired by my past life.
To learn about my new releases, sales, and giveaways, please sign up for my newsletter and follow me on social media. I love to hear from my readers.
Genre: Contemporary Romance Cover Design: Sara Eirew
Release Date: September 19, 2017
relationships go far beyond the Hollywood backdrop.
romantic relationships have always been a thread woven into the fabric of
Hollywood. In the old days, studios played the matchmaking game simply to
promote their movies. Today the game remains the same, only now the stakes are
higher and the players ever changing.
The two of
us knew what rock bottom looked like and we needed a way out of the rubble
before it destroyed our careers and our reputations.
multiple staged paparazzi appearances and charity polo matches in the Hamptons
to romps in the Caribbean and even being seen together at a high-profile
celebrity wedding, the plan was simple—an agreement that would benefit all
falling in love was never part of the plan.
And for two
famous friends, one summer in the Hamptons could change everything.
Christy Pastore lives in the Midwest with her husband, two lovable dogs and their crazy cool cat. She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Textiles, Apparel and Merchandising and Marketing. Writing has always been a part of her life. Her first writing gig was for a celebrity entertainment website. Later she went on to create her own blogazine and media company combining her love of writing with fashion and marketing.When’s she not writing flirty and dirty books or updating her celebrity fashion blog, she loves shopping online, binge watching her favorite shows and daydreaming.
She believes books, especially love stories are an escape from the real world.
A few of Christy’s favorite things:
Bold Heroine’s – Swoony Hero’s with a Naughty Side— Guilty Pleasure Reads and TV Shows – Designer Handbags – Men In Suits – Black and White Photos— Sexy Accents— Snow— Pinterest – Twitter – Instagram— Wine— Champagne— Soy Latte’s – Gummi Bears— Gourmet Grilled Cheese Sandwiches – Pickles—Popcorn— Sparkling Water— Eye Cream— Pedicures— Traveling— 80’s Music— Musicals— Movie Trailers – Celebrity Red Carpet Interviews – Award Shows – Making Lists.
Genre: Romance Cover Design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Release Date: TBC
Someone once told me never leave the one you love for the
one you like……you just might get something more out of that relationship than you
I should have listened…
I never should have stepped foot on that airplane…
But I did.
Sins come in all shapes and sizes. My biggest sin to date comes in the form of
sex, tattoos, and Harleys. Roman Blackhart, owner of Blackhart Custom
Motorcycles, is all about living life in the fast lane. Our relationship went
from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye. Only problem is, I have a
secret. A secret so deep it’s pulling me in two different directions.
Now we’re 1,400 miles of memories and broken hearts. I just hope it’s not too
late to put all the pieces back together again.
Brandi Aga is a former book blogger
turned writer. Her love for books quickly escalated the need to tell her own
stories. Dark, taboo stories and dystopian romance are her favorites but she
reads a little bit of everything.
She is a stay at home boy (and cat) mom who spends her free
time reading, writing, and online gaming with her husband of ten years.
“Behind those eyes, a battle rages. One that’s not fought
overseas with guns and tanks, but one that wreaks havoc in the homeland with
harshly spoken words and misguided beliefs.”
One week is all we were supposed to share. One week as
strangers. Yet you became so much more.
You were the echo in my storm.
All the little things you did differently irked me. I
thought it meant we couldn’t get along, that there was no chance we’d work out.
But when it came time for me to leave, you know what I figured out?
They were the faint call of home, lost on the wind and the
roar of thunder. It was you calling me, hoping I’d hear you and find my way out
of the dark that I had lost myself in when I shut off to survive.
Eleven hours in the office, and this is what I have to come
home to. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, trapped in the naïve
thought that maybe, just maybe, if I wish him away hard enough, it could truly
Nope. Still there.
Blondie belts a tune out on my car radio, the beat going
some way toward helping me find my zen. Three years on, and the sheer sight of
him still pisses me off the same as it did when he told me “I don’t think I
could ever love you again.”
Yeah. Because loving me meant accepting the fact it wasn’t
my fault, and he refuses to believe that.
I refuse to believe that.
Drawing a deep breath, I reach for the door handle and
promptly cut Blondie off mid-sentence as the crisp evening air rushes into my
safe haven. With my leather tote snatched in my other hand, I rise and plaster
on as natural of a smile as I can manage when my back aches and my feet throb
“Eight months, Jared.”
My ex leans a shoulder against the side of the house, tucked
under the veranda as though he had hoped to blend into the shadows and catch me
“And yet, it hasn’t dulled your attitude any.”
“What do you want?” I shut and lock the car, pining for that
first dip in a hot bath.
“You ignored my calls.” He frowns as I walk right by him.
“Did you think I’d be that easy to brush off?”
“Hardly.” There was a reason he used to be saved in my phone
under ‘Cockroach’. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’re not the only one,” he bites, inviting himself into
the house behind me. “But then again, you never did understand that concept,
“Carry on, Jared,” I snap louder than intended. “See how
long this wee conversation lasts if that’s the way you’re going to steer it.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’ll make it
quick.” For a fleeting second, I see the vulnerable man I fell in love with ten
years ago. “I want you to sell the house.”
“What?” I throw my tote on the side table with more zest
We were married for barely two years, not enough time for
the property to have increased substantially in value. So it was decided when
we split that I’d stay in it, paying the mortgage on my own, and the little
that he had put in over the course of our relationship would be repaid when I
When I sold.
“If you need the cash—”
“I need an end to this.” He waves a hand between us as I
slump against the hallway wall. “I need to cut ties from you, Cam.”
“I thought we were doing that just fine,” I whisper as I run
my eye over his carefully put together outfit.
Fuck, he unfriended me on Facebook the minute he split. I
don’t even know where he lives now, just that it’s in the city, and judging by
the threads he’s got on he’s doing well for himself.
Of course, he doesn’t need the money. He’s never needed
anything from me. Makes sense then, that he wants me to sell to ensure he has
no reason ever to see me, let alone talk to me, again.
“If you want closure, Jared, I can get my lawyer to send
yours the settlement amount when and if I sell in the future. You don’t have to
deal with me.”
He shrugs. “Except I would. You’d still be there in the back
of my mind every time I have to list assets, Cam. Or if Kell and I want to
apply for another mortgage—it’s still in my name, too.”
“So we change it.” I push aside the reference he made to the
whore who stole him away. “Make a time at the bank, and I’ll meet you there.”
Silence hangs thick, choking the air in the house—the very
reason for this conversation. I push off the wall with the flat of my hand and
take a couple of steps toward the lounge room.
He hangs in the entrance hall. “As soon as we can agree on a
“No.” I drop to the edge of the armchair, bracing myself
with both hands on the cushion. “You’ve got to give me longer.”
“Why, Cam?” He ventures as far as the open doorway, ever
reluctant to get too close to me. “You’ve had three years to get what you need
out of being here. Staying in the house won’t change anything.”
“Exactly,” I whisper.
I never stayed in the hope it would settle the past, or that
the memories the house held could ever ease the pain. I didn’t stay to heal. I
stayed to keep the wound open and festering, to never forget.
I chose to remain in the home we shared so I would be
reminded every day of what I did and why I don’t ever deserve to have that kind
of love again.
“You need to move on,” Jared murmurs as he retraces his
steps toward the door. “It’s not healthy, Cam.”
He twists the handle and opens the front door a fraction,
resting his shoulder against the edge as he drives the nail home a little
“You need to own up to what you did.”
Born and bred in Canterbury, New Zealand, Max now resides
with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia. Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and
although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn’t change a
In her down time, Max can be found at her local gym,
brain-storming through a session with the weights. If not, she’s probably out
drooling over one of many classic cars on show that she wishes she owned.