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Read an excerpt from Harper Sloan’s upcoming release ~ Cowboy Up!

 

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Harper Sloan returns with a passionate and breathless romance about the sparks that ignite when a cautious cowboy and a once-scorned woman open up to each other in the third installment of the Coming Home series.

As the eldest Davis, Clayton has always tried to lead by example. He takes his job as head of the family businesses seriously, making sure the farm and auto shop are running smoothly—along with keeping an eye on his brother and sister. For him, there’s a time and place to let go of the control he holds with an iron grip. And with the way he grew up, coupled with a disastrous end to his last relationship, he’s just fine with his quiet, solitary life.

Most of the time.

What he hadn’t counted on was the cute, quirky, shy bookstore owner, Caroline Michaels. She’s the proverbial woman next door—well, the next town over, that is. Caroline hasn’t lived an easy life, but after escaping a verbally abusive ex, she’s finally living it for herself. The last thing she ever expected was a one-night stand with Clay Davis she can’t stop thinking about.

So when she falls on hard times and Clay comes out of nowhere to her rescue, she realizes just how impossible it’ll be to stay away from him. Now all she has to do is convince him to live a little…. Will Clay be able to give up the reins and finally settle down? And, more importantly, will Caroline muster enough courage to lasso him up?

 

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AN EXCERPT FROM COWBOY UP

 

I push my hands from his shoulders and palm his jaw as his stubble prickles against my fingers while my hands wander up to his hair. His hat falls to the ground with a thud and I know he’s just as lost in me as I am in him, because he doesn’t even make a move to pick it up. He lets out a deep grunt when I mold myself against his body, seeking some sort of friction. The next thing I know, my back is against the door and he’s gripping my bottom. His mouth hits my jaw with a bite of his teeth, making a squeak of pleasure shoot up my throat, and his deep rumble of laughter reaches my ears as he presses me harder into the door with his hips. The heavy bulge of his erection against that spot makes me so desperate for him that I whimper in relief when his mouth finally closes over mine in a wet tangle of tongues.

I’ve never been kissed so thoroughly.

This is the kind of kiss that sets the bar for any that might follow.

The kind that shows you everything you’ve been missing and everything you never knew you wanted. I’m going to be comparing every kiss I ever have to my dark cowboy’s, even though I know there’s a good chance no one will ever compare. The sounds coming from my mouth, the ones being swallowed by his, are nothing short of needy. My hips move in tandem with the thrusts of his, and even though we’re both fully clothed, I know it won’t take much more of this for me to go off like the town’s fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Fuck, you taste just like apple pie,” he whispers against my lips, breaking away with a gasp.

“Huh?”

“Goddamn, I love apple pie,” he says before his mouth is back on mine, this time with a whole new kind of hunger deepening his kisses.

I’m held captive, enraptured. Then his hands move from my bottom to glide up my torso. He lifts his hard chest off mine and suddenly those delicious fingers are at my breasts. Even if I had big boobs his hands would dwarf them, I’m sure, but as it is he covers both with a firm grasp before adjusting his hold with a deft twist of the wrists. His mouth continues to feast on mine while his huge hands learn my body with slow movements. I tear my mouth from his with a breathy moan when he pushes my shirt up and slips his fingers into the cups of my bra to tweak my nipples.

“Oh, God,” I moan when he does it again.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he rumbles.

“Please,” I beg, not with the slightest clue as to what I’m begging for.

His hips dig even harder into mine as he leans back, supporting me against the door with that connection alone as he pulls my shirt off. The darkness makes me feel more confident than I normally would be, almost half naked with a man—no, a stranger.

“Yours too,” I tell him as his fingers move to unclasp my bra. “I want to feel your skin on mine,” I breathe, taking over the task so he’ll hopefully give me what I want.

I fumble in my haste to feel more of this dangerous arousal he’s creating in my body, but the second my bra is free and dangling toward the floor, his naked chest collides against mine, pushing me into the door with a force that sends the air rushing out of my lungs.

His mouth hits my collarbone at the same time his hands grasp my bottom, sliding me up the door until I feel the wet heat of his breath against my breast.

Then he stops.

 

 

 

 

Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn’t writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand.

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Read an excerpt from Nikki Sloane’s upcoming release ~ The Rivalry!

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She won’t be able to resist this TIGHT END.
The Rivalry by Nikki Sloane releases on NOVEMBER 21st!
KEEP READING for an Excerpt!

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This tight end is at the top of his game.

He’s good with his hands, even better with his sexy mouth, and the best at making me forget my own name. His—ahem—stats are perfect.

But I can’t fall for him.

He might be everything I want, all rolled into a glorious package of gridiron god, but there’s one teeny-tiny problem. The vile, loathsome team I’ve spent my entire life hating—my beloved school’s arch-rival?

This guy is their star player.

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EXCERPT:

Holy mother of God, this guy knew how to kiss. Jay’s lips pressed to mine. Gentle, and slow, but it ignited a fire that burned all through my body, sizzling out to the ends of my fingertips and toes.

The way he moved his tongue in my mouth was something else. It was sexy. Maybe even a little dirty, and a whole lot of awesome. Beneath his kiss, I was going to melt. If he wasn’t careful, I’d turn molten and pour down the side of the stone wall he’d set me on.

The added height of the wall was great. All he had to do was tilt down to meet me. His face was in my hands, and I brushed my thumbs over his cheekbones, enjoying the sensation of the rough ends of the whiskers on his jaw.

He smelled freaking amazing. I didn’t just want to make out with this guy, I wanted to inhale him. It’d been some kind of torture slow dancing with him earlier. My body had been tight with anticipation, hoping he’d make a move later. Only, here we were, lips locked—and the anticipation didn’t go away. It graduated into need.

How long could we be out here before anyone noticed we were gone? I couldn’t think like that. We were secluded in the shadows, and as the sunlight continued to fade, it’d only feel more intimate here in the woods with him.

Jay left a trail of damp kisses across my jaw as he made his way to my ear. His hot breath rasped the moment before his lips landed on the sensitive skin on my neck, just below my earlobe. I was burning alive, yet I shivered. Goosebumps broke out on my legs. Oh my God, that felt good. Something as simple as his warm mouth against my skin made every inch of me weak with desire. I ached.

“I’m kind of pissed at Dave,” Jay mumbled into my skin, right at the spot where my neck met my body.

“Yeah?”

“Why the hell didn’t he introduce us?”

I wanted to laugh. Or tell him I’d had the same thought. But Jay’s lips had rendered me unable to do anything. I couldn’t even breathe. Every inch of me was sensitized and hyperaware of him. I was turning to liquid in his hands, and he was barely touching me.

My eyes fluttered closed as his mouth crept along the length of my collarbone to the base of my throat and continued to the other side. His hands settled at my waist, but the longer we kept kissing, the bolder he seemed to grow. His palms inched upward.

It was like I’d drawn up a playbook and every route was executed flawlessly by Jay.

Breath caught in my lungs as his hands slid to a stop on my ribcage, pausing just below my breasts. The heat of his palms was a hot iron, seeping through my chiffon dress. I wanted him to keep going, but I also grew nervous. I wanted him too badly. Too much. I wasn’t the type to be reckless or have a random hookup.

Was I?

His mouth found mine, and his kiss was urgent. Needy. It was loaded with lust, and I was desperate to give in to it.

“You were right,” I said, trying not to pant it out. “Your kiss needs to come with a warning.”

A noise escaped the back of his throat. A deep, wicked chuckle.

It was too hot for Ohio in August. Even in the shade, it was a million degrees Fahrenheit. Sweat blossomed on my skin, beading into tiny drops as Jay shifted his stance between my parted legs and urged me closer. I dry swallowed when there was no space left between us, and his hips pressed against the insides of my thighs. My skirt rode up, and I could feel the firm bulge in his pants nudging me.

It was powerful knowing I’d turned him on, and it was just my kiss that seemed to be doing it. My blood had burst into steam in my veins the moment his lips locked onto mine. I’d never had a kiss like his. Didn’t even know I was capable of this kind of feeling.

I hadn’t intended to do more than kiss him, but now I craved more. “Oh, God, do it,” I whispered, arching my back and making it as clear as possible what I wanted. I stared into his intense blue eyes, watching his lust-filled expression as he followed my plea. I sighed in relief as he moved his hands one inch up, followed by another.

Until his hands covered my breasts, gripping me through my dress. I moaned, but it was swallowed up under his dominating kiss. Jay drew my bottom lip into his mouth and bit down. Just a hint of teeth. I inhaled sharply, but not in pain. His action had sent pleasure zinging between my legs.

“Kayla.” He broke the kiss only for a moment. “You are so fucking hot.”

The earth was spinning like I was drunk, only I wasn’t even buzzing from alcohol. This was entirely him.

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About the Author:

Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn’t be any happier.

Stalk Nikki:

Website: http://www.nikkisloane.com/
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Read an excerpt from F. G. Adams upcoming release Fox’s Awakening

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Fox’s Awakening by FG Adams is coming soon on OCTOBER 12th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!
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Fox full front
Brenton Fox is a guardian of mankind. By day, he guards humanity as an agent for the FBI. By night, he is the leader of a secret organization called Hunters. He is a man on a quest to find an ancient relic needed to free the God Zenon and the Goddess Augusta. The only hurdle he faces comes in the form of the unearthly beautiful twin Goddesses Jazmine and Jada accompanying him on this mission. His attraction for both of the sisters is a distraction he doesn’t need.
Goddesses Jada and Jazmine share a powerful secret. The closer they get to the sexy Brenton Fox, the more the secret is revealed and the more his dark, alluring charms become irresistible to them both. The sisters’ journey could prove to be their undoing or save the universes within the realm under their protection.
Deep in the wilds of Africa, they must locate the portal to a hidden realm full of unknown dangers. The demented nature of the God Baako creates treacherous and unforgiving obstacles the trio must bind together to overcome. Will the unconventional hero tame the animal fighting deep inside and master the Goddesses he has come to desire?
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EXCERPT:

Brenton turns in our direction. His cat eyes swirling with a scowl challenging us as he stalks closer and waits for our decision. We glance between each other, longing simmers in our soul. Decision made. His dominance demands we comply. Jada submits and vacates her current chair to move one chair down. He then takes his seat between the two of us and the raging animal within him calms with the nearness.
“Chaac, what do you have to report?” Marcus questions with an air of authority, beginning the meeting.
Chaac is a legend of old in the Earth realm, controlling the state of the atmosphere at any given place and time. The heat, dryness, sunshine, wind, rain all beckon to his will. He has long been a friend to Marcus and the twins. Even though the origin of his existence isn’t known to the masses, he is a longtime confidant of the Enchanted Immortals. Zenon entrusted him with the elements from the launching of all that exists. We have watched his tenacity in fighting against Baako.
“Yes, my lord. Baako is on the move. His forces have begun to infiltrate the continent. We believe they are searching for the access to the other realm where the relic is reported to be.” Chaac obediently answers.
“They will need the key to open the portal, correct?”
“Yes, Aldin. You are correct. Only the one holding the key can open the wards protecting it. Thankfully, we are in possession of the key, therefore locating the opening is of little use other than to annoy us. It will not waylay our efforts.”
“We are the only ones knowledgeable of how to achieve the opening.” Jazmine divulges. We hold the key. Brenton glances my way confusion in his eyes.
“Time and the place are vital elements in opening the realm. Regardless of Baako’s efforts he will fail.” Marcus states unconcerned.
“Brother, do not fear. We understand our role.” Jada acknowledges with a sadness in her faint tone.
Jazmine lowers her head in thought. Brenton reaches out to comfort the Goddesses both arms stretched the palms of his hands connects on our knee, touching us with heart felt concern and need. The instant he does, he is caught up in a magical time warp of mystical proportions. Driving him forward to her realm. Standing on the precipice of time, he gapes at the stark blankness surrounding him. He is balancing on air, nothing above or below him.
“What the fuck is going on? Where am I? I’m in the Twilight Zone, right? Must have been that second slice of pie I ate for lunch.” He inquires, searching the vast unknown.
“Hello Brenton Fox. I have been waiting on you for many ages,” a woman in white says as an hourglass figure comes into the light.
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About the Authors:
F.G. Adams writes contemporary and paranormal romance about sexy alpha heroes and feisty-mouthed heroines. The wonder twins forming F.G. enjoy a healthy obsession of reading that started at a young age. Their books reflect an avid imagination that was cultivated by their grandmother who taught them the mind has no limits and to use both hands when reaching for the stars. Partners in writing, they both thrive on creating unique storylines for you, the reader to enjoy.
When not writing, you can find them on a beach with their significant other enjoying the waves or riding a Harley on a country road somewhere in the USA.
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Read an excerpt from Tillie Cole’s upcoming release ~ Sick Fux

 

When Ellis Earnshaw and Heathan James met as children, they couldn’t have been more different. Ellis was loud and beautiful – all blond hair, bright laughs and smiles. Heathan was dark and brooding, and obsessed with watching things die.
The pair forged an unlikely friendship, unique and strange. Until they were ripped apart by the sick cruelty of others, separated for years, both locked in a perpetual hell.
Eleven years later, Heathan is back for his girl. Back from a place from which he thought there was no return. Back to seek revenge on those who wronged them.
Time has made Heathan’s soul darker, polluted with hatred and the thirst for blood.
Time has made Ellis a shell of her former self, a little girl lost in the vastness of her pain.
As Heathan pulls Ellis out of her mental prison, reviving the essence of who she once was, down the rabbit hole they will go.
With malice in their hearts and vengeance in their veins, they will seek out the ones who hurt and destroyed them.
One at a time.
Each one more deadly than the last.
Tick Tock.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for ages 18 and over.

 

 

 

Please note : this is excerpt is unedited and subject to change.

 

I placed the foot of my cane on the floor and looked to the left. The sound of light breathing came from around the corner. I made to move, but my heart slammed into a fast beat, stopping my feet in their tracks. My nostrils flared as I closed my eyes and tried to suck in deep breaths. I never did this, never had this kind of reaction to anything. Not in eleven years. Not when I was trapped in darkness. Not even when the guards came to “meet the young kid.” Not when we got out—bloodily, savagely, darkly. Especially not when my knife plunged into the guards’ hearts and I watched the life fade from their eyes, the pure fascination of losing one’s life essence occupying my mind.
But this was Dolly. The only person I’d ever given a shit about.
A slick tar pumped through my black heart as I thought of her. She was the blood that gave me life.
I had no idea what state I would find her in. Whether or not her fragile mind had been destroyed. Whether or not her glass heart had been shattered. No hope of salvation.
I had no idea if my only reason for living could be saved. I shook with venomous anger when I let my mind imagine the hell those sadistic cunts would have put her through in my absence. But Chapel’s words rang in my ears . . . Unleash the anger only on those who deserve it. Let it build within your heart like a well swelling with water . . . then unleash hell on those who took your freedom.
Opening my eyes, I breathed through my rage and silently rounded the corner . . . I stopped. There she was, sitting in a chair. I sucked in a breath and heard it rattle in my ears. Her hair. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, the woven strands falling to her lower back. And she was dressed in black. Long, baggy sleeves covered her arms.
Motherfucking black. Dolly didn’t belong in black. Only color. Blue and white and gold and motherfucking pink.
I edged around the perimeter of the room until I faced her. My heart tore down the center and I had to hold back a loud snarl when I saw her curled up on the seat, a thick blanket over her thin legs and waist as she stared lifelessly out of the window. The window that overlooked the once-manicured lawns, now nothing but high-reaching weeds and too-bushy trees. I looked across at what she was watching, in the direction of what held her so captivated.
My heart was severed completely, the two parts of its flesh repelling the other, trying to escape the rage and pain and fucking consuming darkness.
She was staring at the spot where we used to play as kids. Where she had found me all those years ago, ripping the colorful butterfly apart in my hands. I moved into her line of sight, but her blue eyes didn’t lift to meet mine, just stared through me as though I wasn’t even there. I crouched down and studied her face. Porcelain skin. Full lips. Fucking perfection.
But there was no life left in her.
I had never felt fear before, but I imagined the sinking hole I felt dropping in my stomach was something like it. A sinking feeling that Dolly had gone to a place from which there was no escape, a prisoner in her own mind.
Fragility consumed.
“Dolly darlin,’” I rasped, my voice fucking breaking.
Twenty-one. She was twenty-one and more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.
Perfection.
My living doll.
A strand of hair lay over her face. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I tried to force myself to touch her. But I couldn’t. I hadn’t touched or been touched in years. I didn’t know how to anymore. Allergic to human affection. Repulsed by the degrading feeling of touch.
I . . . I . . . I couldn’t.
As I opened my mouth to speak to Dolly again, a loud gasp sailed through the air behind her. I straightened, gripping my cane, to see a familiar old face appear. I watched, the sinking hole quickly replaced by dark satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. “Good Lord,” she whispered as I smoothed down my black cravat and vest.
I glared at the bitch. Leaning casually on my cane, I said, “More like Lucifer, I would think.” I nodded in her direction “To you, anyhow.”
Mrs. Jenkins swallowed and tried to back out of the room. “Ah-ah,” I tutted and shook my head. She immediately stilled, eyes fixed on mine.
“He . . . Heathan James . . . it’s . . . it’s not possible . . .” she stammered and ran her eyes over me. Every inch of me.
“Rabbit.” The bitch flinched at my correction. “I am Rabbit. The motherfucking White Rabbit. So never fucking utter that peasant name to me again.”
Her skin paled, and her eyes fell to Dolly sitting on the chair. Dolly still hadn’t moved. I shifted my grip on the box I had brought inside, about to hold it out to Mrs. Jenkins when she asked, “How are you here?”
I threw the box across the room. It landed right at her feet. “Dress her.”
“Wh-what?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
I pointed to the box at her feet. “Dress her. It wasn’t a request.” Mrs. Jenkins shook as she picked up the box and moved to where Dolly sat. Dolly didn’t look at her either. Mrs. Jenkins opened the lid of the box and gasped again.
Her old, wrinkled eyes snapped up to mine. “No—”
Before she had even finished the sentence, I had reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. I ran the flat side of the blade down my cheek. Slowly. Controlled. Watching her terrified gaze track my every move. “You’d best do as I ask, Mrs. Jenkins. My patience and tolerance for you appear to be at an all-time low.”
Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.
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Read an excerpt from T. M. Frazier’s upcoming release ~ The Outskirts!

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The Swamp is about to get a whole lot hotter! The Outskirts by T.M. Frazier is coming September 12th!

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The Outskirts by T.M. Frazier

Release Date: September 12th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Sawyer wants a life of her own.

Finn wants to forget he ever had one.

After a tragedy, Finn Hollis escapes

into the swamp to be alone.

That is until Sawyer Dixon shows up,

all SCORCHING HOT innocence,

claiming she owns the land less than

fifty feet from his front door.

Sawyer gets under his SKIN, but even worse?

She makes him WANT things.

Things Finn hasn’t wanted in a very very long time.

Finn WANTS Sawyer gone.

Almost as much as he wants her in his BED.

The Outskirts is Book One in the Outskirts Duet.

Excerpt:

Sawyer

My throat tightened and a heaviness grew in my chest like my heart didn’t know whether to beat faster or stop beating altogether. “Did you leave me all this to show me the life you could’ve had, but didn’t? Why!?” I pounded the wheel again and then again, and again and again until my vision was blurry and all I could see was the redness of my own heated rage. “You’re a fucking coward! You fucking COWARD!” I screamed to no one, pounding on the wheel until the skin across my knuckles split and blood dripped between my fingers.

Strong hands bit into my biceps, yanking me from the cab. I was spun around by my shoulders and found myself face to face with Finn. “I like it when you swear,” he said, pressing close.

“Finn, get off me! Get off me! Let me go!” I wailed, struggling to free myself from his grip. Kicking out my legs only to connect with the air as he evaded my every move.

A growl tore from his throat. Finn picked me up and walked me to the back of the truck, setting me on the open tailgate. He pushed himself between my legs and hovered over me to keep me from leaping off.

“Let me go,” I demanded, pushing at his hard chest. “I don’t have time for your broodiness right now.”

Finn held my wrists together with one hand. “No, of course you don’t. You’re too busy tearing up pictures and screaming at no one.”

“Let me go,” I repeated.

“No,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Just go! Leave me alone. Leave meeeeeee!” I wailed as I pounded against his stone chest.

“You don’t want to hit me,” he warned, his eyes hardened.

“Then let me go.”

“Why?” He stepped in closer, unaffected by my attempt to fight against him. My inner thighs were touching his outer thighs.

“Because she did!” I screamed, my eyes sprang open to find his cold blue gaze. “She could have run anywhere and taken me with her. Instead she left him but she left me too. She was a coward who couldn’t make the right decision and I love her. I love her…but I hate her. I hate her so much…so…” I was interrupted when Finn’s lips pressed against mine, momentarily rendering me stupid. I pointed my toes toward the sky to avoid my initial instinct which was to wrap my legs around him. It was so consuming that I momentarily forgot to fight him off, but I didn’t need to, he pulled his lips from mine.

“Stop doing that,” I said. I pushed him off but he stayed between my legs, his hands on my bare back just under the hem of his big t-shirt I was wearing. His gaze hardened. I could see the conflict written in his lined forehead and the deep V between his eyes. I had no doubt the conflict had everything to do with me.

And kissing me.

“It’s your fault that I do it,” Finn said, his voice deep and smooth against my chin and then my neck.

“So that’s your plan? Kiss me every time you want to shut me up?” I asked, still feeling every bit of my anger but also feeling something else. Something that sent tingles between my legs and an ache in my core. “Thank you for saving me. Really. Thank you. I appreciate it,” my voice cracked. “But you can just leave me alone now. And please, STOP kissing me.” My words a whisper.

“I’m going to kiss you whenever I want to kiss you,” Finn stated as if I didn’t have a say in the matter.

The early morning sunlight highlighted the beads of sweat trickling from his shoulders down his broad chest and across the valleys of his defined abs. He was standing so close that we were breathing in each other’s air.

“Whenever you want to kiss me?” I laughed. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand any of this. You’re always mad at me. Why did you save me? Why do you keep kissing me when you’re always mad at me?”

“It’s when I’m pissed off at you that I want to kiss you the most,” Finn said, his voice flowing over my skin like a silky blanket. He slid me closer so I could feel the outline of his rigid erection as if he were proving a point. He lowered his lips to mine and consumed my mouth in a greedy kiss that had me shaking with need and spinning with confusion.

“Do you always kiss everyone you hate?” I asked, yanking my lips from his.

“Does this feel like hate to you?” he growled pushing his hard length between my legs.

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About the Author:

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.

When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.

Well…it has a beach in it!

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Connect with T.M. Frazier:

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Twitter: @TM_Frazier

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Excerpt Reveal: Twisted Twosome by Meghan Quinn!

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Twisted Twosome, an all new sexy, laugh out loud romantic comedy from Meghan Quinn is coming August 3rd!

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Twisted Twosome by Meghan Quinn
Publication Date: August 3, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Racer McKay is a broody bastard.

From the moment I met him, he’s been rude, irritable, and unbearable.

A contractor working to remodel my parents pool house for extra cash, he stomps around in those clunky construction boots with his tool belt wrapped around his narrow waist, and a chip on his shoulder.

Racer McKay is also infuriatingly . . . sexy as hell. I want to take that pencil tucked behind his ear, and draw lazy lines slowly up and down his body all the while wanting to strangle him at the same time.

We try to stay out of each other’s way . . . that is until I have no other option but to ask for his help.

But what I don’t realize is he needs me just as much as I need him. I have money he’s desperate for, and he holds the key to making my dreams come true.

Our pranks turn from sarcastic banter, to sexual tension and lust-filled glances. Bickering matches quickly morph into slow burn moments. We’re hot, we’re cold. We push and pull. I need him, I don’t want him. We’re on the verge of combusting with an agreement dangling dangerously between us. Neither one of us can afford to lose one another and yet, we’re finding it quite hard to decipher the line that rests between love and hate.

Excerpt:

Why is it so goddamn drafty in here? I grip my hammer in my hand, my tool belt riding low on my hips, and my stereotypical construction hat rests on my head as I finish up the project I was hired to do.

Taking a quick look around, I search the bedroom looking for an open window or AC vent that’s blowing a cold breeze right against my dick and sac, making it almost impossible to look semi-decent in this scrap of fabric.

“Mmm, I think you forgot a nail on the ground over there,” says the throaty, smoke-filled voice of Mrs. Sage, who is lying across her chase lounge wearing a silky pink robe that is barely tied around her waist. She makes it her mission to show me as much skin as possible, and as we’re talking about skin showing . . .

I bend down to pick up the nail she’s pointing at as the thin strip of man thong material rides higher up my ass crack than I care to admit.

Let’s pause for a second.

Are you wondering to yourself, is Racer really wearing a man-thong as he finishes building a solid oak shelf?

The answer is yes. Yes, I am.

I’m Racer McKay and I wear man thongs for older, rich women while I work on simple projects around their houses. Excuse me, I mean mansions.

Don’t worry. Yes, I’m also very much ashamed to admit the level I’ve stooped to in order to make some cash. I have my pride, but right now, when I’m offered three hundred dollars more to build a shelf in a man thong, I’m choosing to seize the opportunity.

Self-respect was thrown out the window two years ago when a pile of bills and responsibilities were thrust in my direction without any preparation or warning. Making money is as vital as breathing to me, so I will take it any way I can get it.

Cue the man thong.

“Oh, you’re right. Here it is,” I say, holding up the nail. “Thanks for the help, Mrs. Sage. I would hate to see you hurt yourself from my lack of attention to detail.”

She waves me off and puffs her chest toward me, her robe slipping farther apart, showing the cleavage of a very saggy pair of breasts. I’ve seen my fair share of boobs and even though I don’t mingle sex with work, I can’t help but want Mrs. Sage to remove the robe just so I can see what she has hidden under the silky fabric.

How saggy are we talking here?

I’m interested for exploratory reasons, for knowledge of every kind of breast out there. Because right now, Mrs. Sage looks like she’s rocking a pair of pancakes that have been flattened by a steamroller.

“You would just have to nurse me back to health if that happened.” Her finger trails up her varicose vein-covered leg to her geriatric hip. I hold back the shiver that wants to spin up my spine.

All I can say is . . . can’t unsee that.

I nervously laugh and tuck my hammer into its holster. “Not much of a nurse, Mrs. Sage. I might hurt you even more.”

“I don’t mind getting hurt.” She starts to spread her legs and that’s when I call it a day.

I turn around quickly, snag my jeans and slip them up and over my legs, struggling with my tool belt getting in the way. Once things are in place, I remove my hat, put on my shirt, and then cover my hair with a backwards baseball cap. The peep show is over.

Once dressed, I gather my tools, tuck my construction hat under my arm, and turn to Mrs. Sage. This is my least favorite part, getting the old bird to pay up.

“Leaving already?” She pouts, lipstick on her teeth.

“Unfortunately, I have another engagement I’m running late for.” A lie, but it’s the only way I know to get out of here.

“That’s a shame. I really should book you for a whole day. That way you can’t skirt out of here earlier than I’m ready for.”

She walks out of the den and into the entryway where she opens her purse and pulls out a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills. My brain explodes from the amount of cash in her purse, as if it’s chump change she’s ready to throw around at a parade dedicated to her and her riches.

“What do I owe you? Six hundred?”

Fuck, it’s five hundred and if I wasn’t a nice guy, I wouldn’t correct her, but I believe in good karma. Especially considering where my bad luck has gotten me—trying to climb my way out of a large debt. I try to put as many good vibes out in the world as possible.

“We actually agreed upon five hundred, Mrs. Sage.”

“Such a bargain.” She flips through her cash, pulls out five bills—damn—and hands them over to me. “Shall I call for my next project?”

I pocket the cash. “Email is best, Mrs. Sage. I always feel awkward taking phone calls at work.”

“Such a hard worker.” She pats my face and leans forward, lips puckered, but I step to the side avoiding an attack from her old-lady lips.

As I depart, I wave my hand in the air and say, “Thanks, Mrs. Sage. I look forward to your next email.”

Out of her reach, I toss my tools in the back of my truck, enter the cab, and place my hands on the steering wheel as I exhale a long pent-up breath.

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About the Author:

A BLONDE AT HEART

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

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Excerpt Reveal: The Beauty of Us by Kristen Proby!

 

 

From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes a sexy, new standalone contemporary romance in her Fusion Series, THE BEAUTY OF US, releasing August 22, 2017! Check out the chapter below and get to know Trevor and Riley!

 

 

About THE BEAUTY OF US:

New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby delivers another sizzling novel in her delectable and sexy Fusion series.

Riley Gibson is over the moon at the prospect of having her restaurant, Seduction, on the Best Bites TV network. This could be the big break she’s been waiting for. But the idea of having an in-house show on a regular basis is a whole other matter. Their lives would be turned upside down, and convincing Mia, her best friend and head chef of Seduction, that having cameras in her kitchen every day is a good idea is daunting. Still, Riley knows it’s an opportunity she can’t afford to pass on. And when she meets Trevor Cooper, the show’s executive producer, she’s stunned by their intense chemistry.

Trevor’s sole intention is to persuade Riley to allow Best Bites TV to do a show on her restaurant. But when he walks into Riley’s office, he stops dead in his tracks. The professional, aloof woman on the phone is incredibly beautiful and funny. But can he convince her that he’s interested in Riley for himself? Or is he using the undeniable pull between them to persuade her to agree to his offer?

 

 

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Chapter 2

~Trevor~

I didn’t sleep worth shit last night. I waited for a response to my e-mail from Riley for a while; I’m not exactly sure why. I just don’t like the thought of her being embarrassed.

Because she has no reason to be. She didn’t know who I was, and it was closing time. She was venting to her friends.

It’s really no big deal.

But I could see the mortification in her big blue eyes when she realized who I was, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

When no response came, and for all I know she hasn’t even read the e-mail yet, I sat down for a game on the PS4. I don’t travel anywhere without it. Some people read to unwind. Some go to the gym, and there are times I do the same. But to truly relax, I enjoy gaming. I have since I was a kid.

So I settled in the apartment the network has rented for me this month and played online with my friends, talking about our days and shooting the enemy.

We played well past midnight, and I usually would have gone right to bed afterward, but my mind was still turning, making falling asleep impossible. The restaurant is better than I imagined through my research on their website and customer reviews. It’s visually stunning, the food is fantastic, and they’ve hit the mark on the sexy factor.

But added to that, the five women who own the place are all beautiful, smart, and will make for great TV. Viewers will eat this show up, pun intended.

I lean over the sink and wash my face, not bothering to shave today, and as I dry off, I reach for my phone.

I have several new e-mails.

The most recent is from Riley Gibson.

Trevor,

Thank you for your kind email. I apologize again for the conversation last night. I would like to promise that we don’t always talk like that at work, but that would be a lie. At least we keep it to closing time over a glass of wine.

Enjoy Portland,

Riley

I grin and sling the towel over my bare shoulders. Riley isn’t what I had pictured in my head before I got here. I knew that she was pretty because their photos are on their website, but she’s much prettier in person.

And animated.

Working with her will be fun.

And a test to my libido. Because Riley is fucking sexy. I’ve never mixed business and sex before, and I don’t plan to start now, but keeping my hands off her will be a test of wills.

And that too should be fun.

After my run this morning, I stopped by a bagel place to eat and read a newspaper, came back to the apartment for a shower, and I think I’ll go to Seduction for lunch. I hadn’t planned to go back there until my meeting with Riley tomorrow, but I also haven’t had lunch there yet.

I dress quickly in jeans and a red T-shirt and walk the six or so blocks to the restaurant.

They’ve just opened, so they’re not busy yet. The atmosphere is calm, the lighting a bit brighter than last night, making it a fun spot to meet with colleagues or friends for lunch.

I’m seated on the far side of the restaurant, where it meets the bar, and I can see Riley and the other women sitting around a high table, talking.

Loud enough for me to hear.

“So, he’ll be here tomorrow. Filming doesn’t start for another week, unless the timetable has been moved up,” Riley says, studying her iPad and checking things off a list. “It would be great if we could watch our language.”

“Right,” Mia says, rolling her eyes. “Because that’s gonna happen.”

“Just watch the F-bombs then,” Riley says with a grin. “And I’ll do my best not to vent to him about my horrible dating experiences. Not that I’ll be having any more of those.”

“I wish I’d been here for that,” Addie says with a smile. “It’s hilarious.”

“No, it’s not,” Riley says, but smiles and covers her lips with her fingers. “Okay, it’s a little funny. I’ll be working from home today.”

“Why?” The blonde speaking, I presume Cami, asks.

“Because I have a roofer coming today,” Riley says. “But if you need me, just call. I can come back after he leaves.”

“Go.” Mia waves her off. “We’ve got this.”

The girls all stand, about to go their own ways to get their day started. They’re clearly good friends, which will come across well on film.

Riley walks out of the bar and glances up, spotting me.

“Hi.” I offer her a smile and motion for her to join me. She sits, sets her iPad aside, and squares her shoulders.

I love a woman with grit.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“I’m having lunch,” I reply, and gesture to the salad sitting in front of me. “It’s delicious. Adding the brussels sprouts is smart.”

“I’ll pass that along to Mia,” she says, and then laughs. “I guess you heard the part where I asked the girls to not swear.”

“I did,” I reply, and patiently butter a piece of warm bread. “Don’t worry about that stuff. They’re adults.”

“With potty mouths,” she says.

“And we can bleep stuff out, or ask them to rephrase. You’ve already got the gig, Riley. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. This isn’t an audition.”

“I know.” She sighs and reaches over to take a piece of my bread, surprising and delighting me. “I just want things to go smoothly.”

“Perhaps you should order lunch too.”

“I don’t have time,” she says, and then her blue eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. “I’m so sorry. I eat when I’m stressed out, and I didn’t—”

“No.” I hold my hand up to stop her. “It’s fine. I like that you’re relaxed with me. I think you need to relax more often.”

“What are you, my life coach now?”

“If you like. Did you cancel those dating sites like I suggested?”

She bites her lip and looks to the side, then nods. “I did.”

“Good.” I take a bite of salad and nod. “Are you sure you don’t want some food?”

“I rarely have time to eat,” Riley says, and checks the time on her phone. “In fact, I should go. I have to meet the roofer at my house.”

“What’s wrong with your roof?”

“It’s old,” she says with a shrug. “That’s what happens when you buy an old house. I’m fixing it up a little at a time.”

I nod, and find that I don’t want her to go quite yet. I want to talk more, to learn more about her.

“Why don’t you come to my apartment tonight and I’ll cook you dinner?”

She pauses and stares at me for a moment. “Why?”

I laugh and set my fork down. “Because I asked you to. We’re going to be working closely over the next few weeks, we might as well get to know each other a little better. Also, we can discuss my new duties as your life coach.”

“Well.” Her lips twitch as she thinks it over for a moment, a myriad of emotions moving across her beautiful face, and finally she says, “Okay. Do you mind texting me the address and the time?”

“Not at all,” I reply, and immediately pass her my phone. “Plug in your number and I’ll text you this afternoon.”

She complies, passes it back, and smiles. “Okay, see you later.”

And with that, she’s off. Her ass swaying enticingly in her tight skirt, calves flexing from the height of her heels, and the food I’m currently chewing immediately tastes like cardboard.

Jesus.

And I just voluntarily offered to spend time with her. Alone.

I’m a fucking glutton for punishment.

[no ornament]

“I’m starving,” Riley immediately says as I open the door. She’s in jeans and a well-loved University of Oregon sweatshirt, her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and she looks like she could be a co-ed herself. “I forgot to eat today.”

“Does that happen every day?” I ask as I gesture for her to come inside and close the door behind her.

“Most days,” she admits. “Is this one of those bad choices that you’re gonna coach me through?”

“Yes,” I reply, and lead her into the kitchen. “You have to eat.”

“I know, I just get focused on other things, and the next thing I know, the day is gone and I’m starving.” She passes me two bottles of wine. “I didn’t know what we were having, so I brought red and white.”

“Thanks.” I grin and set them both on the counter. “I made salmon and asparagus with baby red potatoes. What goes best with that?”

Her eyes light up. “The white. Holy shit, are you a chef yourself?”

“I went to culinary school,” I reply, and squeeze some lemon on the salmon before plating it. “But I discovered I was better at a desk job.”

“That’s unusual,” she says, her head tilted to the side as she listens. “Most people fight to get out of a desk job.”

“Not me. I have a ton of respect for Mia, because being a chef isn’t easy, and pleasing people sucks.”

“True.” Riley nods. “She doesn’t get many plates sent back to her, but there are a few. Can I pour you a glass?”

“No thanks,” I reply, and reach in the fridge for a bottle of water. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “I’m sorry. I can drink water too.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, and pat her shoulder. “I don’t mind if you drink. I just don’t.”

“But last night, you were drinking Jack and Coke.”

“Nope, just Coke.”

She sits at the table, still frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I set our plates down. “I’ve been sober for ten years. I’m not the kind of alcoholic who can’t be around others having a drink. It was never that bad for me. I’m just a better person if I don’t drink.”

“Good for you for knowing that,” she says, holding her glass out to clink against my water. “This looks delicious.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I expected pizza or Chinese takeout,” she says. “Honestly, that’s probably what you would have gotten from me. I’m also surprised that you’re not staying in a hotel.”

“I’m here long enough that the network sprung for the apartment. They usually do when I’m somewhere longer than a week or so.”

“You must travel a lot for this job,” she says, eating her food like a starving child. I don’t know if she even tastes it, she’s eating so fast.

“I travel often,” I reply, and grin when she takes the last bite. “Are you going to lick the plate?”

“Maybe,” she says with a grin. “I’m not even embarrassed that I ate that so fast. It was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it. There’s more.”

“No, I’m good,” she says, and reaches in her bag, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “You can eat while I interview you.”

“For what?”

“For the position of life coach,” she says with a sassy grin. I want to kiss that grin right off her face, but instead I take a bite of potato and gesture for her to begin.

“Okay, first question: What qualifications do you have that make you a good fit for this position?”

“Well, I have a few years on you, so I would say wisdom with age.”

She tilts her head to the side, the way she does when she’s turning something over in her head. “You can’t be that much older than me.”

“I’m thirty-seven.”

“Seven years,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“A lot can happen in seven years,” I reply, and sip my water.

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” She checks something off on her paper.

“Did you really write down questions?”

“Of course. I’m the queen of lists and the roofer was at my house forever.” She bites her lip as she looks at her list. “How many women have you life-coached in the past?”

“Well, I didn’t have an official job title, but I have two younger sisters, and an ex-wife, so I would say three.”

“But the wife is an ex, so maybe that did go well?” Riley asks. “And are your sisters productive members of society?”

“As opposed to being in jail?” I ask, laughing. “You’re hilarious, Riley.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“My sisters are great. The older one is married, a stay-at-home mom with two kids, and the younger one is a waitress.”

“But the ex-wife thing didn’t work out.”

“She’s not a mess, we just both decided that she shouldn’t be my wife anymore.”

“Why?”

I sit back in my chair and wipe my mouth on my napkin. “Because she thought it was a good idea to have sex with other men.”

Her eyebrows climb on her forehead and she blinks twice. “That’s a good reason.”

“I thought so.”

“Okay, next question.” She checks something on her paper and looks up at me with a smile. “How do you intend to be compensated for your work?”

“I’m working pro bono,” I reply with a wink.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to be here anyway, and why not.” I shrug and finish the food on my plate. “What else do you want to know?”

“Is my coming to a virtual stranger’s apartment by myself one of the bad decisions you should have coached me on?”

I smile and set my plate aside so I can lean on the table. “Did the girls tell you that coming here by yourself was a bad idea?”

“I only talked to Cami and she thought I should come. Plus, I have a concealed carry, so I feel pretty confident that I’m safe.”

I raise a brow and cross my arms over my chest. “You carry a gun with you?”

“Hell to the yes,” she replies, and offers me a sweet smile. “I’ve been meeting strange men on the Internet. You bet your ass I’ve been armed.”

“Good idea,” I reply with a nod. “There are a lot of crazies out there.”

“Yes. But I think that if you’re gonna meet a crazy, it could be anywhere. Online, in a bar, at the gas station. They’re everywhere.”

“That’s true too,” I reply, and nod. “Well, I’m glad you’re being cautious.”

“I’m nobody’s victim,” she says, as casually as if she’s telling me her shoe size.

That’s fucking sexy.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“Not really,” she says, and shrugs. “I didn’t really write anything down. But it was fun to interrogate you a bit.”

“Now I have questions,” I reply, and smile when she cocks her head and purses her lips. “Do you really think you need a life coach?”

“No, I have my shit together,” she says with a grin.

“Why were you really on all of those sites?”

She shrugs. “Because it’s not easy meeting people. And sometimes a girl wants to go out on a date.”

“You don’t need me,” I reply, and smile. “But I’ll be around for a while, just in case.”

“Just in case I slip and fall back into the online dating?”

“That, or if you just want to have dinner, or chat. And I think we should watch a marathon of Star Wars. Your lack of knowledge is cause for concern.”

“It’s kind of a guy thing,” she says.

“I know many women who like Star Wars.”

“Well, I would watch one or two.”

“You need to see them all to understand what’s happening.”

“That’s a lot of hours of my life that I’ll never get back,” she says with a frown. “Aren’t there CliffsNotes somewhere? A speedy way to get caught up?”

“No,” I reply, and fist my hands in my lap so I don’t reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.

Or yank her against me so I can kiss the fuck out of her.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Are you always this observant?”

“I’m an overthinker,” she says. “So yeah, I’m an observer.”

“I’ve been labeled an overthinker too,” I say with a grin.

“Would you say it’s an accurate assessment?”

“Oh yeah,” I say with a nod, and stand to clear our plates away. She stands to help. “I’ve got this.”

“No way, you cooked, so I’ll help clean.”

She walks ahead of me, her empty glass in one hand and her plate in the other. “Do you use the dishwasher, or do you wash by hand?”

“There are people who still wash by hand?”

“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen them in the wild,” she says, and smiles up at me when I join her. “So I guess that means we use the dishwasher?”

“Yes.” She rinses and I load, and a few short minutes later, we’re done.

“Well, I suppose I should go,” she says, and checks the time on her phone. “Oh, Cami texted. I guess I should reply so she doesn’t think you killed me after the entrée.”

She smirks and types on her phone, then turns it off and looks up at me.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Unfortunately, it won’t be in my bed.

“You will.”

“Okay.” She gathers her bag, notepad and pen, and walks to the door. “Sleep well tonight.”

I grin and congratulate myself for not dragging my fingertips down her cheek.

You sleep well tonight, Riley.”

“Okay. Bye.”

She leaves and I close the door, letting out a slow breath. Jesus, she’s sexy and funny and smart as fuck.

And I’m not going to touch her while I’m here.

How the fuck am I going to do that?

 

Don’t miss the first chapter of THE BEAUTY OF US! You can read it here!

 

 

About Kristen Proby:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kristen Proby is the author of the bestselling With Me In Seattle and Love Under the Big Sky series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong, humorous characters with a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type; fiercely protective and a bit bossy, and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves.

 

Kristen lives in Montana, where she enjoys coffee, chocolate and sunshine. And naps.

 

 

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Read an excerpt from Kat Mizera’s upcoming release ~ Adonis in Athens

Adonis_BANNER_excerpt

Get hot this summer with Adonis in Athens by Kat Mizera!
Keep reading for an EXCERPT!
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 18th

adonis-in-athens-2

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2sPbpK4

Paige Carter’s fling with the dark-haired, green-eyed Greek was short, but it rocked her world. Her only regret was not finding out whether she’d ever see him again before he returned to Greece.

Apollo Lakkas earned his degree and was thrilled to return to Greece to begin work with his family’s shipping business. His only regret is the way he left the sweet blonde he met in Vegas—who may or may not be his wife.

When an unexpected proposal throws Paige into a panic, she packs a bag for Athens and does the one thing she knows she must do before she can face any kind of future…reconcile her past.

The moment their eyes meet once again, Paige and Apollo feel the same spark that ignited them down the aisle. Will they be able to plan a future together or is their love destined to be nothing but a bittersweet memory?

Adonis_TEASER2

EXCERPT:

It was hotter than she imagined the hinges of the gates of hell would be. Paige Carter stepped out of her apartment and immediately felt the makeup she’d so carefully applied begin to melt off her face. With a sigh of frustration, she hurried to the stairs and walked down, looking at her watch. She was running late, as usual, and her boyfriend would undoubtedly be annoyed. She didn’t mean to fall behind, but somehow it always happened where Tom was concerned. She often wondered if, subconsciously, she did it on purpose. Nothing else made sense, because she was always punctual for work and other appointments. There was something about him, though, that brought out the procrastination and disorganization she usually kept at bay.

Tom Malone was the kind of guy all her friends were looking for. Not only was he handsome, smart, and funny, he also made an excellent living as an accountant and owned a beautiful home in a gated subdivision. He drove a Mercedes, bought her nice gifts and was generally a good guy. As far as she knew, he’d never cheated, never done drugs and barely drank other than the occasional beer. He’d given her a key to his house, a drawer in his dresser and had asked her to move in repeatedly. He didn’t have a single flaw, she thought irritably as she got into the sauna that was masquerading as her car. Maybe that was the problem.

Turning up the air conditioning and willing the cold air to start coming out sooner rather than later, she rolled down a window and pulled out of the parking lot. She had no idea why Tom had been so adamant she meet him at their favorite restaurant at 6:00 on a Friday night. It was June and work had slowed down a little for her, so all she really wanted to do was put on shorts and a T-shirt and either lounge by the pool with a good book or watch a couple of movies; this time of year, if she wasn’t by the pool, she wanted to be inside, away from the Las Vegas heat.

She turned on the radio and mindlessly hummed along, wondering what Tom was up to. In the 18 months they’d been dating, he’d often surprised her with unplanned weekends away, tickets to shows, and random day trips. It wasn’t her birthday or any kind of anniversary, so tonight could be anything from a romantic dinner for two to a formal ceremony where the mayor granted her keys to the city.

She almost snorted at the thought, chuckling at her own sarcasm. Tom was such a good guy, she hated being so out of sync with him. Quiet and unassuming, he was always there for her, supportive and as interested in her needs as a guy could be. Maybe too much so, she thought with a grimace. If Tom did have a fault, it was that he seemed to read her mind. If she so much as looked at a purse online, it would appear on her doorstep a day later. If she’d forgotten to schedule an appointment for a haircut, and her hairdresser was booked, he’d make a few calls and an opening would miraculously appear. Sometimes, she wanted to figure out how to afford the purse or get the appointment herself—and he refused to let her. He thought his job was to take care of her, but she just wanted someone who would be there to lend moral support.

Reaching out to push the auto-tune buttons on the radio to find something she knew, she stopped on an adult contemporary station and sang along to the end of Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are.” The romantic lyrics made her a little melancholy and she was about to change the station yet again when the next song froze her hand in place. The first few bars of Bruno Mars’ “Marry You” inexplicably brought tears to her eyes, and for the first time in ages she thought of him. Apollo. She could still picture his mesmerizing green eyes, chiseled features and body reminiscent of a Greek god. Literally. Tall, Greek and even-hotter-than-Vegas-in-summer good-looking, she did her best not to think about him. Or the spring break he’d come to Vegas. Or the nights they’d spent dancing and kissing as if nothing else in the world existed, running from casino to nightclub to the gondola ride at the Venetian. Or how he’d brought her body alive in ways that made her shudder just thinking about them. No, thinking about Apollo was a bad, bad idea. Especially when she had a night planned with Tom. She hit the button to change the station.

Since it was already 6:10, Paige pulled up to the valet and all but snatched the ticket from the young man’s hand. Tom never yelled or got angry when she was late, but she could see the disappointment in his eyes and it was worse than when a parent looked at you that way. It made her uncomfortable, having that much power over a grown man, so she did her best to avoid being in that situation. Today had just been a long day at work and when it was this hot, she felt sluggish.

Pasting a smile on her face, she approached the hostess. “Hi. My boyfriend is probably already here and—”

“Miss Carter!” The hostess’s eyes twinkled as she grinned at her. “Oh, yes, he’s here! Your whole family is here! Are you totally excited?”

Paige cocked her head slightly, her brows knitting together. “Um, what?”

“Uhh…” The girl’s face darkened slightly and she turned away, fidgeting with something on her computer. “Oh, um, maybe I was mistaken. What’s your boyfriend’s name again?”

Paige had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Tom. Tom Malone.”

“Okay, yes. Um, follow me.” She strode into the heart of the restaurant and Paige had no choice but to follow, scanning the tables for Tom.

They walked all the way to the back and the hostess turned with a smile. “You’re here in the back room—have a wonderful evening!” She opened the double doors that led into the big room usually reserved for private parties and Paige stepped forward with trepidation.

“There she is!” Tom was grinning broadly as he approached her, and Paige’s stomach dropped.

“What’s going on?” she whispered under her breath as he brushed his lips across hers.

“Wait and see!” he whispered back impishly.

Paige nearly groaned as she spotted her parents sitting at a table with her sister, Nicky, and her Aunt Sue and Uncle Paul. Her father gave her a thumbs-up while her mother waggled her fingers. She glanced from her parents to Tom and then across the room where she spotted her traitorous best friend, Raegan Warner, who should have warned her that something was going on. Because something was definitely going on.

“Tom!” She squeezed his hand harder than she intended and he turned in surprise, his eyes widening slightly.

“Honey, I know you’re always cranky after a long week at work but trust me, okay? You’re going to like this!” He kissed her cheek and pulled her along with him to a table at the front of the room, where his parents and sister were sitting.

“Why is everyone so dressed up?” she hissed in his ear. “I’m in capris and a T-shirt!”

“You’re gorgeous no matter what you’re wearing!” he whispered.

She wanted to roll her eyes but he was being so sweet and earnest, she mentally chided herself as she gave him a little smile. “Thanks—but you know I hate surprises.”

“This one is worth it!” he grinned, pulling out her chair and waiting for her to sit down.

“Hi, Mrs. Malone, Mr. Malone.” Paige nodded at his parents before turning to his sister, Jean, who hated her. “Hi, Jean.”

“Hi.” Jean raised her eyebrows. “Nice Duran Duran T-shirt.”

“That’s what happens with surprises,” Paige said lightly. “If I’d known, I would’ve dressed for a special occasion.”

“Since it’s not that special of an occasion,” Jean muttered, “I guess you’re dressed fine.”

“Jean!” Tom gave his sister a dirty look but she merely shrugged.

He sighed but after a wink at Paige, turned and let out a low whistle. “Excuse me, everyone! Now that Paige is here, I have an announcement.”

Paige was getting more and more nervous as she looked up at Tom. Her parents’ obvious happiness, Jean’s grumpy attitude and the number of friends in the room made his intentions perfectly clear; he was going to propose again and she had no graceful way to refuse him.

“Mr. Carter.” Tom took a wireless microphone that seemed to appear out of thin air and walked across the room to Paige’s father, Seth. “You know how I feel about Paige.”

Seth smiled. “I think everyone does, son.”

No, no, no, Paige thought, her eyes wide, stomach churning as he spoke.

“So after nearly two wonderful years together, I was hoping to get your blessing to ask for her hand in marriage.”

Fuck me loud, Paige groaned inwardly. She cut her eyes to Raegan, who was slowly realizing that the shock on Paige’s face was not laced with excitement.

“Well, of course you have my blessing,” Seth replied. “But I’m not the one who has to marry you. Ultimately, it’s Paige’s decision.”

The guests began to twitter and chuckle, whispers filling the room as Tom walked back towards Paige, pulling a small black box out of his pocket.

I’m going to kill him, she thought, too horrified to move and wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this.

“Paige, would you come down here please?” he asked.

Paige gulped, a roaring in her ears telling her she might start hyperventilating any moment now. She was screwed. There was no way to walk out of here without making a fool of herself, embarrassing Tom, or some combination of the two.

“Honey?” Tom spoke again, his smile faltering slightly.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jean muttered. “Just say no and spare us all the headache of watching the two of you make the worst decision of your lives!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Paige stood on wobbly knees, struggling to breathe, breaking out in a cold sweat. “T-tom?” Her voice was barely a whisper but her eyes were pleading with him to stop this insanity. He had to know she was going to say no. Why else would he have done it so publicly? This was more than a disaster; this was a nightmare and apparently she wasn’t going to wake up before the bad part.

“Sweetheart, I—” He took her icy cold hand in his and pulled her towards him.

“Tom, no!” she whispered frantically. “Please—not here.”

His smile fell a little further. “Paige…”

“Put the microphone down,” she implored, blinking away tears that were threatening to fall. “I have to talk to you—alone!”

He frowned. “Honey…”

“If you truly love me, you’ll do this for me.” She was whispering, desperation in her voice and written all over her face.

Tom took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before picking up the microphone and smiling broadly again. “My girl seems to want this part to be private. Can you give us a couple minutes?” He put down the mike amidst boos, cheers and catcalls, and pulled Paige from the room. They walked around the corner and down the hallway where the bathrooms were. Finally, he leaned against the wall and met her gaze. “Why do I get the feeling it’s not that you don’t want me to propose in there, it’s that you don’t want me to propose at all?”

She swallowed. “It’s not that black and white,” she whispered, searching her mind for something she could tell him to make him understand. To make him think about her needs. Hell, to make him stop trying to move so fast.

Raegan told her she was crazy. She worked as a waitress at a casino on the Strip and seemed to meet the very worst possible guys, so Paige thought her opinion of Tom was a bit skewed. Raegan was right about one thing, though: Tom was one of a kind. He wanted to be in a committed relationship and was willing to put in the work to make that happen. He’d already proposed once and she’d had to gently point out that they were both still young, needing time to get to know each other and grow up a little too. He’d been disappointed, but seemed to take her words to heart. He’d bought the house not long after that and seemed intent on showing her how much of a grown-up he was. She just wished he would slow down. Growing up, to her, didn’t mean giving up all semblance of youth; it meant living and exploring to find out who you were and what you really wanted in life. Tom was on the fast track to leaving behind every bit of childhood and focusing on retirement.

If she could get him to slow down, to stop rushing all the milestones, it would be easier to love him. She didn’t want a mortgage, babies and a dog at 24. She wanted to travel, go to concerts, and get beyond an entry-level position at her job. Tom said he understood, but actions spoke louder than words and his actions said the opposite. He wanted a spouse and a white picket fence sooner rather than later. Paige wanted that too, but later rather than sooner. Was it so wrong to want to enjoy life as an adult without a lot of responsibility for a little while longer?

“Then what is it, exactly?” he asked, his normally easygoing smile turning into a scowl. “I moved too fast the first time, but dammit, Paige. It’s been almost two years!”

“Eighteen months,” she contradicted, warring with herself about whether to just let him go and get this over with or to try to explain so that he would be patient a little longer.

“Paige, what’s going to change at 24 months or 36 months or, hell, 100 months?!”

She bit her lower lip and tried to articulate her reservations. “It’s just…I don’t…” She couldn’t seem to do anything but sigh.

“Do you love me, Paige?” he asked tightly, his brown eyes boring into hers intently.

“I do,” she whispered. “But we’re at really different places in life right now.”

“That again?” he demanded. “Jesus, you want to wait until we’re 30? Forty? I mean, how old will be old enough?!”

“It’s not about age!” she protested. “It’s about lifestyle… You have the big house and the car and the job. You want the wife and babies to go with it, and I’m not ready.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked in frustration, calming down now that she’d admitted she loved him.

“I want to focus on my career and get to a point where I feel successful, instead of one step above entry-level. I want to travel. I want to go on adventures… You’re only 26, Tom. Why don’t you want to go on adventures?”

He looked startled, his eyes narrowing a little. “I, um, well, like what?”

“Swimming with sharks in the South Pacific or zip-lining across Costa Rica or excavating shit in the desert in Egypt—I don’t know! Don’t you dream about anything other than accounting?”

He met her gaze sadly, stuffing his hands—and the box with the ring—in his pockets. “You,” he said softly. “I dream about you.”

Embarrassment and guilt tore through her, making her want to cry. He didn’t deserve a woman like her—he deserved better. He wasn’t the kind of guy who dreamed about adventure; his dreams were about reality. Life, love, marriage, children and retirement; that summed up Tom Malone and it was the opposite of everything Paige wanted. There was just no way to explain that without hurting his feelings.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she finally said, taking a step away from him and looking anywhere but his face. “I, um, I’m kind of…already married.”

“Huh?” Tom looked too confused to even be angry.

“I mean, I think I am.”

“What?! You think you’re married? How can you not know?”

“It was a crazy fling during spring break, three years ago.” She looked down. “He was leaving to go back to school the next morning and we couldn’t find any papers or anything so we…assumed we hadn’t actually done it, like legally, and…forgot about it.”

“Forgot about it? Are you kidding me?” He was staring at her as though a unicorn horn had just poked through her forehead.

“It was spring break…drinking, partying, carrying on—a too-much-fun overload—and then he was running to catch his flight and eventually going back to Greece… We weren’t sure what we’d done. So he left me his information and said to call him. I never did.”

Tom was still staring at her. “Let me get this straight. Three years ago you had a wild week with some guy from Greece, whom you may or may not have married, but instead of finding out, you went your separate ways and decided to just ignore it?!”

Hearing it spoken out loud like that, it really sounded dumb, but all she could do was nod.

“Is that your idea of an adventure?”

Her eyes shot up and met his, hurt, guilt and a twinge of anger running through her. “That’s not fair,” she said hotly. “Name one college student who didn’t do something dumb!”

He arched his brows. “I can name at least one.”

She scowled. “I’m sorry! I can’t help who I am! It’s not like I’ve changed…I’ve always been this way and you asked me out anyway. I’ve never lied about who I was and I’ve tried to compromise, to do some things your way while still doing other things my own way. You just don’t seem to want to do any compromising on your end, and now—”

“No compromising?!” He glared at her. “Everything I’ve done has been a compromise! If it were up to me, we’d already be married and living together! Instead I keep waiting and putting my life on hold so you can grow up!”

“How have you put your life on hold?” She frowned at him, suddenly tired of this, tired of everything. “Your career is on track, you bought the big McMansion in the suburbs, you have a fancy car and the monthly golf date at the country club. How is delaying putting a ring on my finger holding you back?”

“Single guys don’t get the corner offices or the partner offers—they’re too busy partying to snag the better clients.”

“So you need a wife to further your career?” She was getting pissed now, folding her arms across her chest. “All that stuff about dreaming about me was just bullshit!”

“No! Honey, wait.” He ran a hand through his thin brown hair and sighed. He reached out and gently put his hands around hers, pulling her closer to him. “Listen, that came out all wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Tom, I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she admitted. “I love you, but we’re in really different places in our lives. Sometimes it feels like you don’t know me at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you wanted me to say yes tonight, this wasn’t the way to do it. You know I don’t like surprises and gathering all these people stressed me out—even if things were perfect between us, I might’ve said no because it’s just so overwhelming for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And I know you love this stuff. In the end, I don’t ever want to be the reason you don’t do something. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not.” He looked sad. “But I kind of feel like your heart is somewhere else.”

“That’s not true!” she protested. “I’ve never been unfaithful! Never!”

“That’s not what I meant. I know that’s not who you are…but you’re in a different place in life. You want your freedom for a while, to explore the things you feel are missing, and I’m ready to settle down. Maybe…” He met her eyes almost guiltily. “Maybe we need a break.”

“A break?” She blinked.

“At the very least, you need to find out, one way or another, if you’re married. If you are, you need to do something about it. If you’re not, I still think we need some time to think about the future, about where we want to be in a year, five years…ten.”

“I…okay.” She didn’t know how to argue because he was right. Even though it could be different between them, he obviously wasn’t willing to find middle ground. He wanted things to be the way he wanted them; her needs and wants weren’t his priority, even though he made it appear that they were by spoiling her with gifts she didn’t need and the type of overwhelming attention she didn’t want.

“Let’s take a little time to regroup. You can sort out your…marital status and I can think about the idea of adventures.”

She looked up into his handsome face in surprise. “Really? You’ll think about adventures?”

He shrugged. “For me to love you, I’d think I’d have to.”

“It has to be a choice,” she said softly. “Not a burden.”

“That’s why I have to think about it.”

“That’s fair.” She paused. “Tom, my parents don’t know—”

He smiled faintly. “About your possible marriage? I figured. Don’t worry. I’ll cover for you.”

“You will?” She looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because you’re right—I didn’t make tonight about you…it was about me. I wanted the big party, the big surprise, the big engagement. I know you, though, and I knew you wouldn’t like it. I just hoped you wouldn’t be able to say no.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that’s not fair to either of us. I do have to find out, one way or another, whether or not I got married three years ago. And you have to decide if you’re willing to put off the white picket fence dream for another year or two, until I’ve had time to follow some of my dreams too. Once we get married and have kids, everything will change, Tom, and I don’t know that I want to give up that much freedom at 24.”

“Maybe some time apart will make us see that we’re meant to be together,” he said.

“Maybe,” she whispered softly, leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Go ahead and go,” he said, releasing her hands. “I’ll think of something to tell everyone.”

“Oh. No, that’s not fair. We should tell them together. I can—”

“Tonight was my fault,” he admitted. “I never should have put you on the spot like that, so I’ll make it right.”

“But what will you tell them?”

“That I shouldn’t have planned something like this without talking to you first and that you want a private, romantic engagement, not something this big or ostentatious. When they ask where you are, I’ll say you’re upset with me and that I’m giving you time to cool off. In a few days, we’ll tell people we’re taking a break.”

“And then?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I don’t know.” He met her gaze sadly. “I guess we’ll regroup when the time is right.”

Adonis_TEASER1

About the Author:

Kat Mizera is a South Florida native. Born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of wanderlust, she’s called Los Angeles, Long Island, upstate New York, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Atlanta home. She’s never been able to pick which locale is her favorite, but if pressed, she’d probably choose the west coast.

Kat’s a typical PTA mom with a wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max). When she’s not writing, she’s either scrapbooking or indulging in her second love (after writing) – traveling. Greece is one of her favorite places in the world. She loves that Athens is a big city with a small-town feel. The food, beaches and culture keep her going back as often as possible. She hopes to retire there one day so she can spend her days writing books on the beach.

Kat has been a working freelance writer for nearly 30 years. She sold her first article–a review of a rock concert–for $10 in 1985. Since then she’s been an entertainment journalist, waitress, bartender, legal assistant, food critic, magazine editor, substitute teacher, and sports writer. She also spent some time working at A & M Records in Los Angeles.

As you can guess from her series, the Las Vegas Sidewinders, Kat loves hockey. She is also a freelance hockey writer, covering her favorite team, the Florida Panthers, and any other teams that have an interesting story. The rest of the time, she writes novels: sexy, romantic fiction that she hopes makes you as happy as it makes her. There’s something enticing about hockey players and romance…

Connect with Kat:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkatmizera/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lzRBG6
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorKatMiz
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2li6zRe
Website: http://www.katmizera.com

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Read an excerpt from Emma Hart’s upcoming Sin!

 

 

 

Damien fox lived up to his name. Cunning, sly, and dangerous, fifty percent of Vegas’ strip clubs were his.

Whatever he wanted, money, attention, women, he got.

And now he wanted to buy my bar, no matter the cost.

I wanted him to go to hell on a first-class ticket.

He played a dirty game, and I followed his rules. I let him think he would win.

Despite our differences, it was clear to see that we were no more than two broken hearts colliding in the darkness.

Closed off, sexy, and holding a pain that would crush a lesser man, he was the ultimate sin.

One I couldn’t deny myself, even though I knew better than to trust a fox…

(SIN is book one of the Vegas Nights series. Each book in this series is a standalone novel.)

 

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Excerpt

“Why wouldn’t you talk about your work in the restaurant?” I set my purse on the floor by my feet and shifted to face him. “I’ve never seen anyone get out of a dinner so fast.”

A small smile tugged the edge of his lips up. “Just like I said in there, some things shouldn’t be discussed in public.”

“Like politics and religion.”

“You have a very smart mouth.” He glanced down at said smart mouth. “Do you ever turn it off?”

“Never,” I reassured him. “Now, we’re no longer in public, so tell me about what you do.”

He rested an arm along the back of the seats. His fingertips landed just inches from my hair, and I gave a cursory glance at their closeness.

Shivers tickled their way down my spine as he stared at me. He was entirely still except for the way his eyes flicked left and right repeatedly. It felt an awful lot like he was taking me in, committing me to memory for some strange reason.

“A lot of people don’t like me. Pissing people off is part of business, and I’ve done that a lot, so I try to keep my work private. It’s that simple, sweetheart.”

“I get it. But now, it is private.” I wasn’t going to let this drop. I’d quit reading before I did that. “I’ve told you a lot about my bar tonight, so now tell me something.”

“You have the innate ability to make me feel like I’m back in high school and writing an essay about being reasonable.”

“If you’d done that, you might know how to be reasonable.” I paused when he laughed. It was low blow time again. “Look, Mr. Fox—”

“Damien.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything about your business and what you do, but given that you’re failing embarrassingly in your attempt to buy my business, it’s probably in your best interests to start talking.”

He leaned forward and took my hair between his finger and thumb. Slowly, he twirled the strands around his finger, each twist lightly tugging against my scalp. “You should have been a cop. You’re very persuasive.”

“In that case, you could probably learn a thing or two from me. Your own skills are lacking.”

“I don’t know.” He dropped his voice to a low murmur. “I think, if I tried hard enough, I could persuade you into a few things.”

I raised my eyebrows. We’d moved on from talking about business. Once again, the Master of Deflection was doing what he’d been doing for most of our evening together.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for your antics yesterday, so I wouldn’t even try it.” I tapped his hand so he released his hold on my hair. It tumbled away from his finger so I could smooth the strands back down and gave him a pointed look.

“Forgiven me, or yourself?” His eyes glinted knowingly. Almost self-assuredly.

Hell, there was no almost about it. He knew exactly how I’d felt when he’d left me. He knew exactly what he’d done to me, and I did, too. Denying that I was annoyed at myself because I could still remember how it’d felt when he’d taken my chin in his hand was pointless.

“Both,” I answered, sitting up a little straighter. “That doesn’t invite you to exercise poor judgment and make another attempt to mix business with pleasure?”

“Attempt? Sweetheart, if I’d attempted to do that, there would have been a lot less business and a lot more pleasure before I’d left you.”

“You think I’d give in to you so easily?”

At those words, Damien slid smoothly across the leather seats. His arm, still resting along the back of them, hung down behind me, his thumb just brushing against my back. The rest of his body was mere inches from mine, and I bit the inside of my lip as he trailed his fingertips up my bare arm. My eyes followed his feather-light touch while his stayed fixated on my face.

He coasted his fingers over my shoulder where he touched them to my jaw. Lightly, he tilted my face around and up until I had no choice but to look him in the eyes again—to look right there where I could see exactly how much he wanted me.

Dark.

Hot.

Full of temptation.

Heavy and intense, his eyes screamed of raw lust and selfish need.

“I don’t think you’d give in at all,” he whispered. “I think your body would do that for you, and you’d be helpless to it.”

“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” I said quietly. I touched my finger to his belt, then ran it up the length of his torso, ghosting it over the solid packs of muscle that made up his body until I flicked the starchy collar of his shirt. “You think you can do this and I’ll give in to what is essentially a biological reaction? I’m stronger than you take me for, you know.”

He curled his fingers around my chin and dipped his face to mine. “She says with a racing heart.”

I pressed one finger against his mouth and ran another along his strong thigh…right up to where his hard cock was straining against the soft material of his pants. “Don’t you hate it when your attraction to someone is so obvious?”

His jaw clenched. “If you have any sense at all inside that gorgeous head of yours, you’ll move your hand.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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Train Wreck by T. Gephart is coming June 28th! Read an excerpt here!

BLURB

 
“No passion, no emotion, no originality—a train wreck of epic portions.”
 
Those were the words to describe Eve Thorton’s exhibition. Not even a fine arts degree from Yale or her daddy’s bank account could save her from the scathing reviews. And failure was a word Eve would never be comfortable with. Not even close.
 
Plotting the demise of every critic who’d written her off was her first instinct. But that would come later. Instead, she would show them that she wasn’t a bored socialite with more money than talent.
 
She would prove everyone wrong, and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. But when her journey for redemption crashed headfirst into Josh Logan, the sexy, talented tattooist from Queens, getting her hands dirty took on a whole new meaning.
 
Josh was everything Eve wasn’t, translating on skin what she couldn’t onto her canvas. All she had to do was convince him to share his jaw-dropping brilliance, and help her—seeing him naked—a bonus. Then she could go back to her regular life, vindicated.
 
It should have been easy. Pity her plans had a habit of derailing.
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EXCERPT

Kitty had said Josh Logan was gorgeous.
 
Her description was tall, athletic and covered in exquisite wearable art.
 
With jet-black hair that was cropped short except for the top which he wore longer and combed back. Sort of like Elvis, but a thousand times hotter, and without the retro clothes.
 
So, I had been mentally prepared for a decent looking guy. But I had just shipped off all of Oliver’s stuff and scruffy guys with tattoos weren’t really my thing. Besides, I was here for a purpose, and that was not to get a date. I was a professional and this was New York, and gorgeous men were everywhere. It’s not like I was a bag of hormones incapable of using her head.
 
Yet all it took was a single freaking smile.
 
How it was even possible was beyond me, but Kitty severely understated.
Josh Logan was well over six-foot and built like a South American soccer player. You know the kind—hot, toned, and looked fabulous in their underwear on the side of a building. Sadly, Josh was wearing clothes—a fantastic pair of jeans and a black fitted T-shirt that hugged his arms and chest so lovingly it needed a standing ovation.
 
And those eyes? Wowzas. Perfect cerulean blue.
 
Tattoo Jesus was freaking HOT.
 
And another thing, his tattoos were insane. Each perfectly toned arm was covered in intricate designs that went all the way up into his sleeves where they were tragically hidden by his T-shirt. Then the color reappeared, snaking up his neckline. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to lick his skin or hang it on a wall. Oh, that sounded bad. Yeah. Hanging it on the wall sounded creepy. Licking. Licking was better.
 
I had been a locked vault. Kept it together and pretended he wasn’t the hottest man I’d seen. I’d even managed to carry on a conversation, completely hiding the fact my panties had disintegrated the minute he’d walked into the room. That, my friends, was where the real talent was.
 
 

About T. Gephart

 

T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.
T’s approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.
With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.
While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have travelled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley the wonder dog.
An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident who didn’t lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn’t let it go.
T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colourful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey – she is well and truly enjoying the ride!
Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled.

 

 

 

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