Check out this amazing EXCERPT of Blood Guard by Megan Erickson! Coming soon on September 12th, you’ll want to sink your teeth into this romance!

 

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Kobo → http://bit.ly/2vZ4aQX

“Megan Erickson knows how to bring the heat! With a kick-butt heroine and a hero to die for, Blood Guard kept me reading all night long.”New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff

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Enter a world of immortal danger and desire—and discover an incredible fate borne of blood.

Tendra: One minute, I’m a bartender in gritty Mission City; the next, I’m whisked away by a vampire named Athan who tells me that I’m the lifeblood of his clan. It sounds unbelievable, but he’s got evidence I can’t deny. Turns out, Athan belongs to an underground society of vampires who feed only on humans with their consent. Their enemies have no such qualms, and they want me dead. The only thing standing in their way is strong, sexy Athan. And the closer we get, the more tempted I am to let Athan feed. . . .

Athan: How could I have known when I snatched this snarky, beautiful human off the streets that she would change my destiny? As a loyal soldier, I must deliver Tendra to our future king—my brother. Empowered with the blood of ten generations of the Gregorie breed, she is fated to rule as our queen. But there’s something between us that’s so intoxicating, so carnal, I can’t help wanting Tendra for myself . . . even if it’s treason.

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EXCERPT:

The panic welled in my chest. I was trapped in a strange apartment with a strange man who probably outweighed me trifold. I opened up my mouth to scream but he held up his hand and said in a deep voice. “You scream, and I’ll just put you to sleep again.”

My jaw snapped shut. I focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. I wanted to thrash and yell, and holler, but he’d somehow knocked me out before and I would be useless if he did it again.

I glanced around. The only light was from a small, dim bare bulb above us. The rest of the room was in shadow. There was nothing I could use for a weapon, not even my shoes. I focused back on the man in front of me. “How’d we get here?”

“I carried you,” he answered, his voice a rumble that I felt down to my bones.

Something moved in the corner of my vision and I peered into the dark. A form materialized, and I must have been dreaming still because Brex was there. He stalked toward me, rubbed against my leg, then sat down by my feet like a feline guard. I tried to be calm, but I was close to losing it. I didn’t date. Was this how people dated now? Maybe it was a thing. “Why is my cat here?”

My captor didn’t move, and half of his face was in shadow. “I brought him.”

“I don’t keep my ID on me, so how’d you know where I live?”

“I didn’t need your ID.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve been watching you.”

Oh, just fucking great. A stalker. I’d be lucky if I made it out of here without him wearing my skin like clothes and my head in a freezer. “Okay, cool. Well, uh, hi. I’m Tendra. I applaud you for your unconventional, um, greeting. Want to untie me? We can go for a drink. I make a mean screwdriver.”

Confusion flickered over his face, then his scowl deepened, like uncertainty angered him. “No.”

I didn’t want to make him mad, but I’d never been great at keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes me opening my mouth was the reason we had to move. “Do you want money? Because I’m sorry to say, you kidnapped the wrong girl. Especially because I just paid rent. I’m eating peanut butter out of the tub for the next week.”

Again with the angry confusion. He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want your money.”

I gritted my teeth. “Well, now you have me here. What do you plan to do to me?” The panic was slowly switching over to anger, the fight instinct my mother instilled in me strong as ever. If he was going to kill me, maybe I could piss him off enough that it would be quick. “Because I’ll tell you right now, I will fight you to my dying breath and then come back from the dead and haunt you until I convince you to cut your own dick off.”

His expression didn’t change. “Charming.”

I was signing my death warrant, but I couldn’t resist getting a shot in. “Fuck you, you creeper.”

His chest rose as he inhaled sharply. “Right, so let’s have it out. I’m your guard, because you’re destined to be delivered to my older brother in order to make our clan stronger.”

I didn’t move. Not an inch. Because holy shit, not only was he a creepy stalker, but he was out of his gourd, too. I couldn’t just have an evil stalker. Oh, no, I had to have a lunatic one, too. Zero of what he said made sense, so I focused on one thing at a time. “Excuse me? Clan? What are you, cavemen?”

I thought he’d take offense, but instead he just looked bored. “No, not cavemen. Vampires.”

I blinked.

And blinked again.

But nope, he was still there. This was still happening. Only me. If I made it out of here alive, what a story I’d have to sell about my stalker who thought he was a vampire. I had visions of the guy trying to bite my neck with his blunt teeth. Which made a giggle bubble up in my throat, which turned into a laugh, which turned into me throwing my head back in hysterical laughter until tears streamed down my cheeks.

When I dropped my head and focused on him through my tears, he was watching me carefully, that impassive expression still on his face.

He reached down and picked up Brex by the scruff of his neck, which immediately ceased any and all amusement on my part. “If you hurt my cat, swear to God—“

Brex yowled and swiped a paw across the man’s face. A thin line of scarlet bloomed on his cheekbone before the man dropped Brex, who scurried off to hide under a small table near an old couch. “Good job, Brex!” I shouted after him. “Now come back and finish the job!”

I turned to my stalker, and whatever I was about to say died in my throat. I watched as the cut sealed up and vanished before my eyes.

Gone.

No mark, no blood. No nothing.

And those dark eyes were still trained on me.

Image of shirtless man with crossed arms over dark background

 

BITE THE HAND THAT BLEEDS by Megan Erickson is totally FREE!
Download it here: 
https://www.instafreebie.com/free/4xBMx

 BLOOD GUARD releases September 12, and to get you in the mood and introduce you to Mission City, here’s a FREE short story that is completely standalone!

I think you’ll want to read about what happens when Roxy heads underground to a vampire club and meets Dru. Spoiler: Sexy stuff happens. A lot of it. Oh, and there are fangs involved.

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About the Author:

Megan Erickson is a USA Today bestselling author of romance that sizzles. Her books have a touch of nerd, a dash of humor, and always have a happily ever after. A former journalist, she switched to fiction when she decided she likes writing her own endings better.

She lives in Pennsylvania with her very own nerdy husband and two kids. Although rather fun-sized, she’s been told she has a full-sized personality. When Megan isn’t writing, she’s either lounging with her two cats named after John Hughes characters or… thinking about writing.

Connect with Megan:

Website: meganerickson.org
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormeganerickson/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/MeganErickson_
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2wlessh
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2voYMHc

Long For Me by Stacey Lynn is almost here!!! Check out the Excerpt in todays post <3

 

Long for Me by Stacey Lynn
Publisher: Carina Press
Release Date: September 4th, 2017

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Synopsis:

My boss already controls my days; do I want to give him my nights, as well? 

Rebecca

I’ve seen what happens when you give everything to a man. That’s not what I want. I won’t have my heart crushed in anyone’s fist.

Then he changed everything.

Him. Bennett Ashby. My boss.

Seeing him at Luminous, dressed in leather pants and wielding a whip…

Do I crave this? 

My mind says no, but my body is starting to have very different ideas.

Bennett

I knew Rebecca Morales would be the perfect assistant. That’s why I hired her.  

I didn’t know that working with her every day would lead to temptation—to own her, to possess her.

When she walked into Luminous, I knew I was screwed. Dipping your pen in the company ink is never smart, but we both agreed what happens at the club stays there.

One night and then it’s back to business tomorrow.

Except I don’t want just one night with Rebecca. I want them all. 

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Pre-Order Today!

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Excerpt:

“You look beautiful. For reference, though, when I have my subs kneel, they do it naked and with their knees further apart so I can see their pussy whenever I want.”

She jerked in response and I settled my hand on top of her head, not pushing, just holding her steady. “And before you say anything,” I said, dropping my voice. “You’ve pleased me Rebecca. For your sake, I’ll go slow tonight. I’m simply letting you know my preference. But you’ve done well. Thank you for not safe wording.”

She shivered, goose bumps popped on her arms and I resisted the urge to dig my fingers into her scalp. For someone so hesitant, she was awfully turned on.

“Tell me, Rebecca.” I massaged her scalp to calm her. And to touch her. Damn I wanted my hands on her ass. “When you’re like this at my feet, kneeling, how do you feel?”

“Not as uncomfortable as I thought, Mr. Ashby, but still weird.”

“And if I tell you that you here, at my feet, waiting to please me makes me hard as cement, how does that make you feel?”

“Jesus,” she whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. Tell me. Are you wet? Are you thinking about how turned on I am by this?”

Her throaty, raw and breathless voice cracked. “Yes. Yes, I’m wet, sir.”

Sir. Holy shit. Never had that one simple word done so much to me. It slammed into my chest and my fingers dug into her hair like I’d been trying to resist. Hell. This woman.

“Good girl. Thank you for your honesty. Are you ready to continue?”

“Can I ask—”

“We’ll do whatever I say. That’s what will happen next.”

She shuddered as she breathed heavily, blowing it out through her parted lips. I wanted them wrapped around my dick, my shaft lodged deep in her throat as I shot down deep inside of her. She was undoing me more than any woman I’d met and we hadn’t even done anything yet.

What the hell had I gotten myself into with her?

“I’m ready, sir.”

Yes. Music to my ears.

“I want you to look at me, and tell me what you want tonight.”

She hesitated, but lifted her head. As she did, I dropped my hand from her head to the side of her neck. I wanted to be touching her, wanted her to feel me at every moment of the night. My hands or my body would be touching her in some way, shape, or form until I left. Which hopefully wouldn’t happen for hours yet.

Heat seared into my chest as she lifted her amber-brown eyes to mine. Something like being branded with an iron, I assumed. It took everything in me not to jerk back, not to show her how much her innocence affected me.

Or the blush on her cheeks.

Or the glint in her eyes. She was scared, but curious too, and she was curious about something more than just submitting. She wanted something.

“What would you like, sub?”

Nothing like washing away the blush with the reminder of her place. I’d revel in it later. When she was screaming my name with my fingers bringing her off, again and again and again.

“I’m having a hard time believing I actually get to choose.”

I could have teased her, lightened the mood so she was fully comfortable, but I didn’t. It was much more fun to keep her guessing.

“If you can’t tell me what you want, I’ll decide for you, you know.”

She glanced at the floor, lips twitching. “Figured that,” she muttered. She lifted her head again, and gave me that burning sensation in my chest. Perhaps I needed a doctor. A heart specialist. “I’d like a spanking, sir.”

Not what I was expecting. Hold her hands while I fucked her, yes. Eat her out, yes.

She went right for the gusto.

Awesome. Because I couldn’t wait.

“Very well.” I showed no emotion, but I couldn’t stop watching her fight a grin. If she thought she was winning, she’d learn the truth soon. “Stand and strip. Then show me where your room is.”

About the Author

Stacey Lynn currently lives in Minnesota with her husband and four children. When she’s not conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or on the boat with her family enjoying Minnesota’s beautiful, yet too short, summer.

She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.

If you would like to know more about Stacey Lynn, follow her here:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/staceylynnbooks
Twitter: @staceylynnbooks
Website: http://www.staceylynnbooks.com
Stay up to date on Stacey’s latest news! Subscribe to her Newsletter today! http://www.staceylynnbooks.com/contact

I am excited to be a part of this Blog Tour! I love Lexi Blake. Love Another Day is no available. Excerpt is below!

 

A man born to protect

After a major loss, Brody Carter found a home with the London office of McKay-Taggart. A former soldier, he believes his job is to take the bullets and follow orders. He’s happy to take on the job of protecting Dr. Stephanie Gibson while the team uses her clinic in Sierra Leone to bring down an international criminal. What he never expected was that the young doctor would prove to be the woman of his dreams. She’s beautiful, smart, and reckless. Over and over he watches her risk her life to save others. One night of pure passion leads him to realize that he can’t risk his heart again. When the mission ends, Brody walks away, unwilling to lose another person he loves.

A woman driven to heal

Stephanie’s tragic past taught her to live for today. Everything she’s done in the last fifteen years has been to make up for her mistakes. Offering medical care in war-torn regions gives her the purpose she needs to carry on. When she meets her gorgeous Aussie protector, she knows she’s in too deep, but nothing can stop her from falling head over heels in love. But after one amazing night together, Brody walks away and never looks back. Stephanie is left behind…but not alone.

A secret that will change both their lives

A year later, Stephanie runs afoul of an evil mercenary who vows to kill her for failing to save his son. She runs to the only people she trusts, Liam and Avery O’Donnell. She hasn’t come alone and her secret will bring her former lover across the world to protect her. From Liberia to Dallas to Australia’s outback, Brody will do whatever it takes to protect Stephanie from the man who wants to kill her, but it might be her own personal demons that could destroy them both.

 

 

 

Amazon | iBooks | Google Play  | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

 

The door slammed and she suddenly found herself with her back against it. Brody crowded in, taking up all the space and staring down at her. His body brushed hers and she found both her wrists captured in one of his. He dragged them over her head, forcing her chest to come out, breasts skimming along his body. “I shouldn’t do this.”

Tough chick was winning. Steph let her take over. It was surely better than the desperate girl who lived inside her. She kept asking for love and affection and getting swatted away. This was the next best thing, possibly the only thing she would ever get. “Then don’t. Let me go and I won’t bother you again.”

“No, you’ll go find Ezra Fain and bother him,” Brody said on a growl.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll find me a bother.” She’d barely spoken two words to the man, but she wasn’t going to admit it. It was better to let Brody think she wasn’t a love-starved girl.

“He won’t fucking find you anything at all. If you’re determined to not sleep alone tonight, you can damn well do it with me.” His mouth came down on hers and every inch of her skin came alive. His kiss was overwhelming, hungry. There was no slow meshing of mouths. He took her, his tongue surging inside and dominating her own. He let go of her hands and started to explore her body. His hands were on her hips when he came up for air. “I’m leaving in the morning. I’m going back to London and I can’t come back.”

She’d known that would probably be his answer. She’d known he wouldn’t want to stay and she couldn’t leave.

“One night. That’s all I want.” It was all she could have. It had been foolish to think it could be any different.

His mouth came down on hers again and she let herself get swept away. One night and her life would go back to normal. One night and then she would be alone again. His hands started to roam over her and she tried to forget all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

He stepped back, his entire body set in hard lines. He strode over to the bed and sat down. “Take off the gown. It’s pretty, but I want to see you.”

She hesitated, all her insecurities coming to the forefront. Somehow, she’d thought he would simply take her. “Let me get the lights.”

He was back in her space again, his hand wrapping around her wrist. “I didn’t say turn off the lights. I said take off the gown. How am I going to see you if you turn off the lights?”

“Brody,” she began.

He was having none of it. “You got on your knees in front of me and you said you knew what you were offering me. The first thing you were offering me was obedience. The second was your body. You’re giving me neither right now.”

His voice had gone midnight dark and something about the tone made her soften. He was right. She did know what she’d offered him and now she was trying to have it all her way.

There was nothing wrong with her body. It was feminine and she was healthy. What was she afraid of? “All right.”

He let go of her wrist and sat back down, looking like a damn king waiting on his concubine’s performance. For all his “I’m nothing but a grunt” talk, the man could be incredibly arrogant, and damn if she didn’t find it sexy as hell.

Something about that voice let her know that everything was going to be fine. He was past the point of rejection. He was in and that meant he would play her Dom for the night. He would take care of her. She was as safe with him in the bedroom as she’d been in the field.

At least she was safe for the night. In the morning she would be in a world of hurt, but she wasn’t thinking past tonight.

 

 

 

 

NY Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog int eh world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance and urban fantasy that she found the stories of her heart. She likes to find humor in the strangest places and believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome, or foursome may seem.

FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE / AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Excerpt Reveal, Giveaway & More!!!!!

Read an excerpt from More Than My Words, Guarding The Gods Book Three by Author Ann Lister. She also has some exciting news and surprises for all readers and fans of all things ROCK!!

MTMW COMING SOON

EXCERPT

More Than My Words

Guarding The Gods ~ Book Three

Copyright © 2017 by Ann Lister. All rights reserved.

* Unedited and subject to change. *

Mason arrived back at Tessler’s building just after eight o’clock that night. He’d put in a few hours of office work at Ventura Security, then home to shower and change for his date with Tessler. Now he was sitting outside in the backseat of the car service sending Tessler a quick text message.

“I’m here,” Mason typed.

“Okay, I’ll meet you out in front of the coffee shop.”

Mason eased from the backseat and thanked the driver before he shut the door. When he turned around Tessler was standing there with a huge smile on his perfectly tanned face. It made him remember how tanned Tessler said he was all over his body. No tan lines. He hadn’t been able to get that visual out of his head since Tessler had uttered the words. And his cock was in total agreement–the image of Tessler’s fully tanned body was definitely boner-worthy.

“You’re just in time to see the sun set behind the hillside,” Tessler said. He held out his hand for Mason to take it, then started to tug him toward the entrance of the building.

They stepped inside and Mason was acutely aware that this was the exact spot where he’d kissed Tessler for the first time. That thought had barely registered in his head when Tessler had him pushed up against the brick wall and his lips slammed down on his. Swift and needy, Tessler took immediate control of their kiss with his tongue licking the crease of Mason’s lips before sliding inside. Teeth clinked together while their tongues wrestled and they devoured each others’ mouths. It was a decadent feast that had Mason’s entire body on fire.

His cock ached for attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of the kiss to even suggest they move upstairs. The slippery wet haven of Tessler’s mouth already had Mason’s nerves on overload. Suggesting more physical contact between them might possibly cause Mason to come in his pants, and did he really want to spend the rest of the night trying to hide the wet spot? This kiss was heaven and hell because it wasn’t near enough to quench his need for the man pressed against him, but damn it felt so fucking good. It was Tessler who finally pulled out of their lip lock. His heavy pants of breath further heated Mason’s already flushed face.

“I had to see if our second kiss would be as good as the first,” Tessler admitted in a hoarse voice.

“And was it?” Mason asked.

Tessler chuckled and said, “It was even hotter.”

“I’d have to agree with that assessment, but we should probably do a little more . . . research to fully prove the data,” Mason said and grinned as wickedly as he could.

“Mmmm, then let’s go,” Tessler said. He took Mason’s hand and started to tug him down the hall toward the elevator.

Mason followed close behind Tessler with so many different emotions flooding his veins. He wondered where the night would take them, and if there’d be a second date. There had to be another date, right? With the kind of chemistry they shared, Tessler would have to want to see him again. There was no way in hell this was one sided or that he was imagining the attraction. Tessler was just as turned on as Mason was and he’d felt the evidence of that pressed into his hip just a minute ago by the doorway.

EXCITING NEWS

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What’s better than one author writing a rock star romance? TWO! And if you love collaborations between authors, then you are going to LOVE the upcoming project Ann Lister has planned with Sandrine Gasq-Dion!!

They’ve already shared their rock stars in each others rock series, but now they’re going to collaborate and write a story together!!

One story. Two authors with rock stars. This story is going to ROCK!! It will be so packed with all your favorite rock star characters, you are going to lose your mind!

Are you ready for this? Get your backstage passes ready, because this story is coming at you soon!!

I have something BIG to reveal!!

WEBSITE, music between the sheets banner

How does a brand new website that’s bigger and better than ever before sound to you? This completely new domain has space for all my men and even has space left over for a NEWSLETTER, too! The Home of The Rock Gods and the men who have their backs in Guarding The Gods will now be sharing this new space with the Gallo Brothers from the Band of Brothers series, along with my collection of M/F titles!!

Go check out the new pages and be sure to SUBSCRIBE to my new NEWSLETTER via my website! I can’t wait to keep you all updated on all things Rock Gods and MORE so be sure to leave your email so we can make that happen! I hope you enjoy my Music Between The Sheets!!

Visit & Subscribe HERE

https://www.annlister-author.com/

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GUARDING THE GODS SERIES

If you loved The Rock Gods now is your chance to read the spin off series from the men that have their backs. Read book 1 and 2 FREE with KindleUnlimited.

Zac’s Mulligan Book 1

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Universal link http://getbook.at/ZacsMulligan

Add to your shelf on Goodreads, click I want to read.

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Honor And Pride Book 2

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Universal link http://viewBook.at/HonorAndPride

Add to your shelf on Goodreads, click I want to read.

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Published Books by Erotic Romance Author Ann Lister

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AUTHOR BIO

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Ann Lister is a native New Englander currently living on the island of Martha’s Vineyard with her husband. She has pulled details from her years living in the New England area and uses many local settings and landmarks in her novels.

After graduating art school, marrying, and raising two daughters, she established her own video production company. Her nearly two decades working in video production included work within the music industry and won her a coveted Telly Award. Her ‘behind-the-scenes’ exposure to the music world and her love of rock music is the inspiration for her erotic rock star romances.

The Rock Gods series gave her Bestselling Author status on Amazon. Beyond The Music, Book 7 in the series, hit #1 in the Gay Erotica genre during the Pre-Order and held that spot for several weeks. This last book in The Rock Gods series launches the spin-off series, Guarding The Gods, which releases in early Summer of 2016.

Fall For Me, Book One in the series was a Finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Award. Each book in this series brings her two favorite elements together: musicians and the love between two men. These stories focus on what it truly means to love; love unconditionally, love without restrictions or labels, love without fear or judgment – to just simply love.

Connect with Ann here:

Website
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Twitter @AnnListerAuthor
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Today we are sharing an excerpt of PINCH OF SALT by Bethany Lopez. A Pinch of Salt is the first book in an all-new contemporary romance series, Three Sister’s Catering. Check out the excerpt, teasers, and giveaway below for a chance to win a surprise book box! 

 

Pre-order your copy now!

 

 

A Pinch of Salt by Bethany Lopez

(Three Sisters Catering, #1)
Contemporary Romance – Coming August 21

Add the book to Goodreads

 

Synopsis:

For the past year, talented chef Millie has been consumed with running her new catering business with her sisters, Dru and Tasha. It isn’t until Jackson walks through their door that she realizes something may be missing in the recipe of her life.

For the past year, Jackson has been dealing with the fallout of his wife’s abandonment. He’s had to learn how to be a single father to their eight-year-old daughter, and will do anything to fill the void her mother left. It isn’t until he commissions Millie for his daughter’s birthday party that he realizes he’s forgotten that he’s not only a father, but a man.

They both think they’re content in their lives, but sometimes the right amount of spice can turn an okay dish into a magnificent one. A Pinch of Salt may be all that’s needed to bring Millie and Jackson the flavor they’ve been missing.

 

Check out the Pinch of Salt Pinterest Board!


 

Pre-order for $3.99

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EXCERPT

“Fine,” I said with mock exasperation,” I’ll give you the cliff notes.”

Tasha kept her eyes on me as she waited expectantly. She’d recently cut off her long black hair that had matched mine and Dru’s in length into a cute bob, and dyed it a bright red. It totally suited her.

“The party was great, fantastic even. I had a blast decorating, and the girls loved it. I took pictures to show you guys, and for the website,” I began, but Tasha waved her hand, encouraging me to get to the good stuff. “Jackson asked me out,” I said with a shrug, then teased her by saying, “But, I said no.”

“Wha?” Tasha cried, standing and putting her hands on her hips. “Why’d you do that? I thought he was your diary dream man. At least, that’s what Dru said.”

I raised my eyebrow at my twin, who just stuck out her tongue at me and continued stretching her quads.

“He’s also married, and still wears his wedding ring,” I replied, then sighed and added, “But, he assured me that the marriage is very much over, the ring was just an oversight, and we’re going to meet up for coffee this week. So, not a date, just coffee.”

“A coffee date,” Dru said with a grin.

“Shut up,” I replied, but couldn’t hold back my answering smile. “I don’t know, you guys, he scares me.”

“Why?” Tasha asked. “Because you’ve been so focused on the business, and before that, Mom, that you haven’t met a man for coffee, let alone had one between your legs, since you and Dru were at USC?”

“That’s not true,” I argued, offended and a little embarrassed about how right my younger sister was. “There was Joshua…”

“Ewww,” my sisters groaned in unison.

“You mean that creeper guy who kept taking you to Anime movies and trying to get you to give him a handy in the theater?” Dru asked. “You really want to count that guy?”

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Use the hashtag #APINCHOFSALT on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram, with the book’s buy links, for a chance to win a surprise book box!

Each box will contain the ARC and some incredible goodies! 

Preorder Now Available – $3.99

Amazon – http://bit.ly/PinchofSaltAMZ

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AUTHOR INFORMATION:

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Award-Winning Author Bethany Lopez began self-publishing in June 2011. She’s a lover of all things romance: books, movies, music, and life, and she incorporates that into the books she writes. When she isn’t reading or writing, she loves spending time with her husband and children, traveling whenever possible. Some of her favorite things are: Kristen Ashley Books, coffee in the morning, and In N Out burgers.

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Toying with Her, an all-new standalone from Prescott Lane is coming August 17th!!!

 

Toying with Her by Prescott Lane
Release Date: August 17th
Genre: Contemporary Romance

toyingwithher

No one said finding love was easy, but when you invented the world’s best selling vibrator, it’s near impossible.  Yep, that’s right.  That little toy hidden in your bedside table is my brain child.  It’s aptly named Woman on Top.  And you know what they say . . . it’s lonely at the top.

So I’m headed home to my Southern roots.  It’s supposed to be an extended Summer vacation — nothing more.  But Rorke Weston has other plans for me.  Plans that not only involve me being on top, but also underneath him.   

It’s been said you never forget your first.  For me, that’s definitely true.  No night has ever lived up to the one I spent with Rorke.

He’s turned into quite a man.  Tan from the Southern sun, and stubborn as the day is long.  And there’s nothing sweeter than the swipe of his tongue.

Rorke wants his chance.  The one we never had.  But that was a long time ago.  When I still believed in Prince Charming and Happily Ever Afters.  Even ten years later, I feel a pull.  And it’s not simply Rorke yanking down my panties.  

Do second chances really happen?  Or is my heart simply toying with me?

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Excerpt:

Hammering the nail with one hard pound, I mutter, “Friends?”

That should be a cuss word, especially coming out of her full, pink lips.  I toss the hammer aside, scanning the mostly-converted barn.  Yep, I live in a barn.  Well, not any barn.  The barn where Sterling and I lost our virginity.  I know just the spot.  It’s the spot where my bed is now.

I didn’t plan it that way.  In fact, I didn’t even really think about it until she showed up in town the other day.  I came home, walked in, and realized I’ve designed this place around her.  Crazy, but true.  That woman has burned herself into the deepest parts of my soul.  Deeper than even I realized.  She was my first, a memory.  I thought it was over.  I thought we’d only ever get that one night.  She had her life, and I had mine.  I didn’t see this coming.  

This old barn sits on the edge of my parents’ property.  It sucks to be almost thirty and still living on my parents’ land.  Technically, I’m not living at home, but sometimes it feels like it.  Unfortunately, buying my own house on my teaching salary isn’t in the cards, so a few years ago, I started converting one of the old barns.

Every nail, every piece of wood in here has been touched by me.  And it’s almost done.  It’s wide open, designed that way mostly because it’s less work than putting up a bunch of walls.  The only room with any privacy is the bathroom.  I left the distressed rafters from the ceiling exposed and just refinished them.  The original sliding barn doors have been replaced with new ones.  Almost one whole wall houses my personal library.  The only thing left to finish is the kitchen.  The upper cabinets are in, but my only appliances are a refrigerator and microwave.  So any real meals I eat come from the main house — my parents’ house.  My plan is to use part of my summer vacation to finish it up.

I look over at the bed.  My subconscious must have taken over with that decision.  Sterling is etched into the fiber of this place.  Maybe that’s the reason I haven’t ever brought a woman to see this place before?  Who knows?  The subconscious is a tricky bitch.

But the memories of that day and night are so vivid.  It’s all flooding back now that she’s back.

I remember a buddy of mine had rushed me home my freshman year of college, making the two-and-a-half-hour drive from New Orleans in just under two.  But I was too late.  I wasn’t here when Levi took his last breath.  Those few days are a blur.  Everything is a blur until the moment I stood up at his funeral to speak; her green eyes were the only thing I saw, her whimpers the only ones I heard.  I hadn’t expected her to be there.  I hadn’t expected her to fly home from college to say goodbye to my brother, but she had.  And I didn’t expect her to find me at my parents’ house after the funeral.  I swear, there were hundreds of people there, and it was the loneliest day of my life.  I had to get out of there and started walking.  I’m not sure if it’s just me, but when I need to think, I tend to walk.  That day, Sterling was by my side.  We didn’t talk, roaming around the fields until we ended up at this old barn.  It was the place that Levi and I escaped to.  As little kids, we’d used it as a fort, a clubhouse.  Later, it held our bikes and four wheelers.  

I remember being embarrassed bringing Sterling inside.  It was old and filled with our junk.  The only place to even sit was an old, beat up sofa.  We made good use of it, though.

I’ve never been as unprepared for something as I was that day.  Unprepared to put my brother in the ground, unprepared to lose my virginity, unprepared to let her walk away.

I chuckle remembering exactly how unprepared I was when our naked bodies first touched.  My brain thought “condom.”  But I didn’t have one.  My dick promised it’d pull out.  But I had no idea the kind of willpower that would take.  I swear to God, I had every intention of pulling out.

I thought for sure that she’d kill me, and quickly launched into the lamest apology in the history of the universe.  Just thinking about it makes me cringe.  I was never so thankful for anything in my whole life as when she kissed me to shut me up, whispering she was on the pill.  

Some might think it’s a dick move to be banging a girl the day you bury your twin brother.  But it wasn’t like that at all.  It wasn’t cheap.  I didn’t think of it as a one-night stand, even though technically it was.  It’s impossible to explain.  It was us clinging onto life, onto each other.  Emily Brontë wrote, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”  And after that night, our souls have been forever linked.

Every single second of that night is burned into my mind, my heart, my skin.

After that night, we stayed in touch for a long time — email, phone calls.  But we were thousands of miles apart.  And our paths never crossed again.  If I was at home on break, she wasn’t.  It just seemed like it wasn’t meant to be.  She is the one that got away.  We never got our chance.

Now she’s back, and she thinks we can be friends?  I spent my entire childhood and teenage years being “friends” with her.

She wants to be friends?  That’s fine.  I’ll be her friend.  But I’ll be damned if that’s all I am.

About the Author:

Prescott Lane is the Amazon best-selling author of Stripped Raw. She’s got seven other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace, Layers of Her, The Reason for Me, and The Sex Bucket List.  She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and holds a degree in sociology and a MSW from Tulane University. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.

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http://www.authorprescottlane.com

  We’re celebrating the release of  TWISTED TWOSOME by Meghan Quinn! Check out the excerpt below!

 

 

 

TWISTED TWOSOME
NA Romantic Comedy

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From the first day I met Racer McKay, I knew our interaction was going to be incredibly brief. First impressions really do matter and unfortunately, I didn’t make a very good one.At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was never going to see this man again, right?

Wrong! When I’m met with the opportunity of a lifetime, there is only one man in the state of New York who can assist me. And can you guess who it is?

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.

So, we reluctantly join forces.

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.

*Twisted Twosome is a stand alone romantic comedy.

Excerpt One (Long)

Excerpt:

**RACER**
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 chaise 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 about 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 veined 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 around my tool belt. Once things are in place, I remove my hat, put on my shirt, and cover my hair with a backward 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.
My boys, Smalls and Tucker, can never hear about today’s side job. There is no way they’ll let me live it down if they knew. I know my two best friends—who I’ve been working with in construction for the last few years—have never had to put on a man thong and bend over for a client multiple times. And hell, if they found out I do—on occasion—I think they would question my sanity.
Although, they’re aware of my struggles and try to help out where they can. Tucker, technically my boss, tries to schedule me as much as possible, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.
From the center console of my beat-up truck, I pull out my phone and see three text messages.
Tucker: At the House of Reardon with Smalls. Come have a drink.
Smalls: Get your ass here.
Adalyn: Have you ever smelled burning skin before? It’s nasty.
I chuckle at the last message. I head toward the bar where Tucker and Smalls are hanging out and do voice text back to Adalyn.
“Try to avoid burning skin, especially on the worksite. I’m taking it you’ve had a fun shift at work today?”
Adalyn is one of my best friends as well. I met her through Tucker’s fiancée, Emma. We spent one night together hanging out and we’ve been inseparable ever since. And before your mind starts racing a mile a minute about how we’re going to get married and have little Radalyn babies, I’m going to cut you off right there. There is nothing going on between us. As Adalyn very honestly told me one night, she has no interest in starting any type of relationship with me since I’m not her type. Although, she said if I want to hang out with my shirt off it would be no problem with her. Such a horny little minx.
My phone rings in my hand. I put it on speaker.
“Addie sweetie pie snookum face.”
“Racee pacey penis breath.” God, I love her humor.
“What have we talked about?” I turn onto a main road, feeling a little more at ease knowing there is a beer in my near future.
“I can call you nicknames just not penis breath,” she says in a monotone voice.
“Correct. I don’t think that’s all that hard to remember.”
“I know,” she sulks, “but ever since you taught me the insult, I want to use it all the time.”
“Call your mom penis breath.”
“Yeah, great idea. Next time my overprotective mom calls, I’ll be sure to call her penis breath. I’m sure she’ll love it.”
I chuckle. “Maybe it’s what your dad calls her in bed.”
“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”
I full-on belly laugh, the rumble coming from the pit of my stomach. “You started it, Addie.”
She lets out a long breath. “Note to self, don’t call Racer penis breath ever again.”
“I’m glad you learned your lesson.” I turn onto State Route 17 and head toward The House of Reardon. “So what’s going on, burning skin today at the office?”
“No, but I did watch someone get a mole removed and that smelled like absolute carcass. It was nasty.”
“Why did you want to be a nurse again?”
“I don’t know,” she sighs. “Good benefits?”
“Good benefits? I would have sworn you were doing it for the free latex gloves.”
“Well, there is my latex glove obsession,” she says sarcastically. “Ugh, what are you doing tonight?”
“Getting a drink with the boys down at Reardon. What are you doing? Painting those gnarly toes of yours while drinking an entire bottle of peach schnapps?”
“Close, I’m clipping my toenails for you as a gift and drinking peach schnapps. Expect a package at your front door tomorrow.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” I switch lanes and speed down the highway, the froth of the beer calling my name.
“What did you do today?” Adalyn asks, changing the subject. “Were you with Mrs. Sage again?”
Adalyn is the only one who knows about Mrs. Sage and her “requests.” I had to tell someone and Tucker and Smalls were not an option, given I work with them every day. But Adalyn was a safe second. She’s cool and wouldn’t say anything.
“Yeah,” I huff. “It was extra drafty in her house today.”
“Probably to cool down her old-lady hot flashes. Would she still get those at her age?”
“I don’t know.” I get off the exit, thankful I’m only a few minutes away. “You’re the woman and the nurse; you should know a hell of a lot more about hot flashes than I do.”
“Of course you would say that, sexist.”
“Hey,” I shout, seeing the parking lot straight ahead. “You know I’m the first fucking person to celebrate women and their rights. Forgive me if I don’t quite understand your lady parts and the tubes that float around in your lower half. Do you know the intricacies of the penis?”
“As a matter of fact—”
“Scratch that, wrong person to ask.” I put my truck in park, and I’m about to tell Adalyn I have to go when she starts walking toward me. “Well, hello there, pretty girl.”
She smiles and pockets her phone, ending our conversation. Dressed in her scrubs, she opens my door and says, “You drive like a grandpa. Took you long enough.”
I hop out and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Crashing the dick party?”
“Can’t resist.”
When we enter the bar, we spot Smalls and Tucker immediately. They have a table off to the side with a pitcher in the middle and a plate of nachos. Thank fuck. I’m starving.
I pull out Adalyn’s chair for her, like the gentleman I am, and then spin my chair around so I’m sitting in it backward. “What’s up, men? Mind if the little lady crashes?”
“Only if she can hold her own,” Smalls says, handing her a cup.
“You know I can.” Adalyn winks and starts filling up our glasses with beer.
I pull a large chip dripping of nacho cheese and jalapenos from the center of the nacho plate and stuff the whole thing in my mouth. Damn, that tastes good.
“Help yourself,” Tucker says. I’m sure that is not sarcasm I hear in his tone.
“Don’t mind if I do. My belly boo was screaming at me for food.”
Tucker is about to take a sip of his beer when he says, “Dude, you’re a six-foot-three, grown-ass man; you can’t say shit like belly boo.”
I shrug his comment off and stuff more nachos in my mouth. Within a minute almost half the plate is gone and I have no regrets.
“Where’s the fiancée?” I ask Tucker.
“She’ll be getting off her shift soon. She’s going to meet me here, and then we’re going out for dinner. She has a bunch of wedding things she wants to talk about.”
“Sounds riveting,” Smalls teases.
“Hey, I will talk whatever kind of wedding stuff she wants to. She’s marrying me, she said yes to me.” He takes a sip of his beer, disbelief in his voice. “I’m one lucky fuck.”
“This is crap. She better talk to me next,” Adalyn huffs and crosses her arms, interrupting the loving moment Tucker was having. “I’ve been asking that girl about her wedding plans for months now, and she keeps blowing me off. Who does that? Someone who’s trying to avoid me, that’s who. I’m going to be her maid of honor, right?” She pokes Tucker. “Tell me I’m her maid of honor. End my misery and let me know.” Tucker says nothing, which only fuels the fire. “Fine, don’t tell me, but if she picks someone else, I swear to the yeast in my beer that I will start slashing tires.” Adalyn stabs the table with her finger, showing us all just how her temper can skyrocket in a second. “All the tires will rue the day Emma didn’t pick me as her maid of honor.” She laughs sardonically and sips her beer while staring Tucker down. “This is all your fault.”
Tucker holds his hands up in defense. “I have no idea what she’s planning. You take that shit up with her . . . and leave my tires alone.”
“Oh, I will take it up with her.” Adalyn bounces her knee up and down, clearly still hyped up. It almost looks like she’s about to explode . . . “Racer wears man thongs while doing his side jobs.”
What the hell?
“Adalyn!” I give her a what the fuck look.
Frazzled, she covers her mouth. “I’m sorry. I needed to change the subject before I started running around the bar tossing drinks in people’s faces.”
“Talk about your fucking burning mole skin. Don’t bring me into this. Christ.” I lift my baseball cap off my head, run my hand through my hair and situate it back on, holding the top for a few seconds.
The table is silent before Smalls taps me on the shoulder. “What?” I snap.
“Are you wearing just the man thong, or is it one of those things where you pull the thong over your jeans to give the ladies a sneak peek?”
“Are we talking lace, silk, or cotton? I would assume cotton for breathability, but then again, I’ve never worn a man thong before,” Tucker adds.
“How many do you have?” Smalls continues. “Do you wear them all the time?”
“Do you have a favorite color?”
“Are we talking thong or G-string? Because that’s a big difference,” Adalyn joins in.
“Huge difference.” Smalls rests his chin on his hand and leans forward, batting his eyelashes as he waits for an answer.
My eyes fixed on Adalyn, I say, “I’m going to kill you.”
She hides her smile and takes another sip of her beer.
She doesn’t know what she just started.
But, oh yeah, she’s going to get it all right.

 

 

 
About the Author:
 
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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Are you ready to be SACKED? Sacked in Seattle is an emotional romance that is about more than just sports! Keep reading for an excerpt Release Date: August 24th

 

JamiDavenport_SackedinSeattle_HR.jpg

PREORDER NOW!
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Sacked_PROMO2

He’s loved Tiff since high school–but tragedy has blockaded her heart.

Tyee University football player Riley Black has adored Tiff since high school, but she’s never felt the same way. As Riley enters his senior year of college, he’s finally moving on and enjoying the perks of being a star athlete. Until one glimpse of Tiff unearths all those old feelings of longing and desire, not to mention the trauma of their shared past.

Tiffani Vernon has been running from her demons for seven years. When she’s forced to return to Seattle for financial reasons and attend the same college as Riley, she’s confronted with the traumatic event which has shaped her future and scarred her memories of Riley. Tiff struggles to avoid her secret high school crush, but he’s not having any of it. He’s pursuing her with a relentless determination to prove once and for all, they were meant to be together.

Can love finally heal their wounds or will they succumb to the pain and forever wonder what could have been?

SACKED_TEASER2

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1—Running

* Riley *

Life-changing moments can be as obvious as a guy holding a gun to your forehead or as subtle as glimpsing a face in a crowd.

That gun and that face haunted my nights and often my days.

I hadn’t laid eyes on Tiffani Vernon since the night of our high school graduation over three years ago. She couldn’t leave Seattle fast enough, while I’d never considered going anywhere else. Seattle was the only real home I’d ever known, and I wanted to stay here and make things better. Face my fears head on. You know, crap like that.

Tiff ran from her fears, and our last night together had been epic, unforgettable, and scary as shit. She sped out of town and never looked back—especially not at me.

I knew why. It wasn’t personal, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

I reminded her of that horrible, awful day when our lives hung in the balance, the world shifted in a matter of minutes, and nothing would ever be the same again.

And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Except move on.

And I had.

Or I thought I had, until I saw her standing across that proverbial crowded room. Our eyes met. Her brown ones to my blue ones. Recognition flashed in her eyes, then panic. Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something. Her expression went soft with regret. Shaking her head, she turned and ran, weaving through the crowd faster than a running back angling for the end zone. Her little pink skirt swished back and forth, calling attention to her fine ass and shapely legs. She was so smoking hot, heads swiveled as she passed.

Pain stabbed deep in my gut. Memories flooded back and slammed me to the turf, leaving me stuck to the beer-soaked floor. Graduation night. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as she gave herself to me, body and soul. I lost myself inside her, certain we’d be together forever. She left town the next morning, and I never saw her again.

Squelching that memory, I stood alone in a crowd of people, hearing nothing, sensing nothing, seeing nothing but the place where she’d stood a second ago. People elbowed me in their haste to get to the keg of beer I was blocking.

I shook my head, attempting to clear it.

She couldn’t be here.

She should be at USC starting her senior year, just as I was starting mine at the Ty, what us locals call Tyee University on Lake Union in Seattle.

She’d traded the rain and mud for sun and sand, and she’d traded me for surfer dudes and Hollywood wannabes.

But now she was back.

My feet refused to follow my orders. All I could do was gape open-mouthed like some creep with a stalker crush. There’d been other times I’d sworn I’d seen her, only to race after her and embarrass the hell out of myself when I found out the poor girl I’d dogged wasn’t Tiffani.

But we’d locked gazes this time, and there wasn’t any doubt in my mind. She was here. I tried to swallow, clear my throat, gulp in some oxygen. I swear my organs were either shutting down or going into overload. My heart slammed in my chest as if building to detonation, and my head pounded to the beat of the music in the room.

Oblivious to my disinterest, the blonde who’d been hustling me all night leaned in closer and gripped my arm. She slipped her tongue in my ear while her hand migrated to my crotch. I gave her a gentle shove, not giving one shit how rude my behavior was, even though I usually prided myself on being a nice guy.

“Later,” I told her and pushed through the throng of frat-house party-goers.

Almost frantic, I shoved my way to where I’d last seen her and caught a flash of blonde hair as she slipped out the door. I dashed after her down the sidewalk into the street and glanced left and right. She was gone, vanished into thin air as if she’d never existed. I waited five, then ten minutes, she never reappeared.

With a sigh, I trudged back to the party, ignoring the curious stares of the guys. I sank onto the couch in the living room, next to a couple of teammates, and faked interest in a football game on TV. My heart thudded wildly, and my hand shook as I lifted a pizza slice to my lips.

My eyes met the concerned blue gaze of my best friend, Gage Harmon, the team quarterback, campus man slut, and proud of both titles. He was chewing slowly and staring at me as if he expected me to strip naked and dance on the table while stone-cold sober.

“You okay, Ry man?”

“Yeah, fine. Thought I saw someone. I was wrong.”

One brow crept upward, disappearing under his messy blond hair. “Female?”

I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze on the off-chance he’d see the pathetic truth and peg me for the idiot I was. What kind of loser pines after a girl this long when he has the world at his feet?

This loser.

Tiff was the only girl I’d ever truly loved.

And I’d never stopped loving her, as fucked up as that was.

* Tiff *

Running into Riley Black was inevitable. The Tyee campus was big, but obviously not big enough. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him during my first week of classes. I’d carefully avoided the areas where he might be hanging out, such as Greek Row, and opted for an off-campus apartment. I planned my classes to avoid being near the football field and gym in the afternoons when he’d most likely be practicing. I timed everything with careful attention to detail and avoidance. Lot of good that did me.

Coming to this party had been a lapse in judgment. I should’ve known he’d be here. Maybe I secretly hoped to run into him, just to torture myself. Maybe I was all kinds of screwed up.

Okay, well, that’s stating the obvious. Ask my family. Ask my counselor. Ask my horse. They’d all agree. I, Tiffani Grace Vernon, was one fucked-up girl, and years of therapy had barely put a dent in my tormented past. Through no fault of his own, Riley brought back every traumatic memory of that fateful day when my charmed life became a living nightmare. He was a victim as much as I was.

Now, here we were. At the same frat party. I shouldn’t have come.

Our eyes met, and recognition instantly lit up his gaze. Those same cobalt blue eyes had studied me intently from across the room in our high school biology class. They’d watched me ride my horse in endless circles at the arena near his aunt’s house. Those same eyes had opened wide in horror as my ex-boyfriend, also his teammate, pointed a gun at each of us, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The loud bang had deafened me, and the smell of iron had filled my nostrils, followed by the wrenching pain of being slammed to the ground.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Seeing him brought it all back as if it had happened six minutes ago instead of almost seven years.

Maybe seeing me did the same for him, too? He’d gaped at me like he’d seen a ghost. Momentarily frozen in shock, his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Not that I would have heard him over the sea of drunken partygoers and the roar in my ears.

My brain clawed at the last shred of sanity as wave after wave of dizziness sucked me deeper into a swirling abyss of darkness. My lungs begged for oxygen until I had to be blue in the face. My legs wobbled, and I stuck out a hand to steady myself. Swaying like a drunken sailor, I accidentally buried my fingers in some sorority girl’s cleavage. She raised her hand to take a swing at me but was too wasted to come close.

“You stupid, perverted bitch.”

Whatever. She was the least of my worries.

The music was so loud, no one paid attention to us. I wasn’t a fighter, and the time had come to get my ass out of here, not so much to run from her—I could handle her—but to get away from him and the demons nipping at my heels

I abandoned my beer on a windowsill and shoved my way through the crowd, desperate to exit as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley dodging people in the crowd with deft footwork that would do any running back proud. Only he wasn’t a running back. He was a tight end. The starting tight end for Tyee University. A big man on campus with an NHL star uncle.

And I was—

Nobody.

And I planned on keeping it that way. I didn’t have any interest in being in the spotlight or even in a flashlight.

It’d been a mistake to enroll here, but I hadn’t had a choice. My parents’ divorce had been costly, leaving no money for out-of-state tuition. So here was I was. Back in the area I both loved and despised among the best of memories drowned out by the worst of tragedies with the one person who played a part in both.

I ran out the door and down the front steps, knowing he was only seconds behind. Glancing around desperately, I dived into some bushes in front of the apartment building next to the frat house and huddled in the darkness.

I waited what seemed like hours.

Finally, I peeked through the branches of the bush. Riley stood there, several feet away, gazing down the street with such profound sadness, you’d think he’d lost his best friend. His big hands hung loosely at his sides. He still had that one lock of dark hard that refused to stay in place. He looked the same, but different. A familiar face, yet a stranger.

Shaking his head, Riley trudged back inside, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging.

I almost ran after him—almost—but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t invite the one person back into my life who could destroy every bit of progress I’d made since high school. Even worse, I couldn’t drag him down with me.

I waited long after he’d gone inside before creeping along the side of the building, and around the corner. I ran the several blocks home and collapsed on my bed. Only then did the wrenching sobs shake my body and wring every bit of emotion from my soul until nothing was left but bone-deep weariness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

USA Today Bestselling Author Jami Davenport writes sexy contemporary, sports, and new adult romances, including her two new indie endeavors: the Game On in Seattle series and the Men of Tyee series. Jami lives on a small farm near Puget Sound with her Green Beret-turned-plumber husband, a Newfoundland dog with a tennis-ball fetish, and a prince disguised as an orange tabby cat. She works in computer support in her day job and juggles too many balls, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Connect with Jami!

Subscribe to my newsletter to receive a free novel and be notified of new releases, special sales, and contests: http://eepurl.com/LpfaL

Website Address: http://www.jamidavenport.com
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Blog Tour & Review!!!! Do you want to read about a sexy Seal and a sassy doctor? Under Fire by Scarlett Cole is available now!!! We have an excerpt for you to get a small taste of what is ahead..

Cole_Under Fire

UNDER FIRE by Scarlett Cole
Published by St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Release Date: August 1, 2017 

About the book: 

“Fantastic characters, scorching sexual tension, and non-stop action make this one of my favorite reads this year!”—New York Times bestselling author Laura Kaye

RITA nominee Scarlett Cole’s Under Fire pairs a hot Navy SEAL with a medical researcher who finds herself in too deep.

Hot, hard-bodied Sixton Rapp is a former SEAL who’s raring to begin his brand-new civilian life. He and his Navy “brothers” start a security firm that offers the kind of services only a team of military-trained professionals can provide. But nothing prepared Six for his new client: an innocent woman on a mission to improve thousands of lives. . . unless someone takes hers first.

Dr. Louisa North knows time is against her as she tries to create a “miracle” medical treatment for a disease with no known cure, until she creates a sample so powerful that the wrong people want to use it as a chemical weapon. At first, Six is unwilling to accept Louisa as his client. But soon he realizes that the danger is real and that there’s much more to this plain-Jane scientist…including a burning passion between them that neither of them can resist. And now that an enemy is on Louisa’s trail, Six will do whatever it takes to protect her—or die trying.

Crystal’s Book World Review:

4 Stars!!!

I really enjoyed reading Scarlett Cole’s newest series, Under Fire. It was quick romance book that had me reading all day. I really enjoyed that the characters in the book were different. Louisa, our heroine, was amazingly smart and beautiful from the inside out. Six was this ex-Seal that is trying to overcome the struggles of being a civilian. These two had a spark from the moment they bumped into each other. Little did we know that Louisa was going to need Six more than we could imagine.

I liked how the story shows the inner struggles that Louisa and Six battle on their own. How Six can not stay away from Louisa and lets his feelings grow. The story was able to show you how love can set people free if they let it in.

Under Fire had amazing dramatic and action scenes. I could not figure out who the real culprit was but I did have my suspicions. Under Fire is a great romance book to read. I truly enjoyed it!

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Excerpt: 

“Now that you’ve got a little more color in your face, and you’ve stopped shaking, you want to tell me who those men were, or what they wanted?”
Louisa smoothed her hands down the front of his chest to fix his rumpled hoodie and then straightened the hem. Six grabbed her hands in his and stilled them. His hands were the size of baseball mitts compared to hers.
“I don’t know for sure. They beat you in here by a minute or two at most. They told me that they wanted me to go with them, and that was about it. I don’t want to think this has something to do with the missing sample.”
Thoughts crowded in almost too quickly to process them all. Things like this didn’t happen to her. It went against the rules. Her rules that said she would spend her life doing research away from all the horrid stuff that went on in the world. And shit like this certainly didn’t happen in Mission Hills. She wondered if it was smart to keep the fact that she’d swapped the two samples and disposed of the one they seemed to be after five days earlier from the police when they finally arrived. But this was a golden opportunity to find out where the police were with the theft in the lab. Obviously Six had saved her life, but she didn’t want him to get into trouble for shooting one of the men. She wasn’t even sure how that would work. It wasn’t like he was defending his home. He was defending hers with a gun he’d brought with him which she wasn’t sure was even legal. Crap.
“It’s all such a mess,” she whispered against Six’s shoulder.
“I know. But I’m right here with you,” he said softly.
Her heart pounded again and her head felt groggy, like mud, as though she was hungover. What she really needed was some silence. She tried to pull away from Six, but he wouldn’t let her move. “Let me go,” she said, blowing her bangs out of her face.
Six shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ll walk the police through it step by step, and I’ll tell them what I know. Then we’ll figure out how to make you safe tonight. Then in the morning, I’ll help you figure out what you can do to remain safe while this gets sorted out.”
What if they came back? Oh, God. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She could go to her mother’s home, but that might lead the people that were after her to her family. Damn. Why had she already decided it was about the sample when it could have been an abduction attempt or an armed robbery, which didn’t make her feel less vulnerable but did quash all the conspiracy theories in her head? What if she was excluding options that were important? She was the daughter of a very wealthy widow. Ransom could be a possibility.
Six squeezed her shaking hands, bringing her back to the present. “And just so you know, staying safe means learning to protect yourself, sweetheart.”
“I did just fine,” Louisa huffed, unwilling to take on the mantle of victim she was constructing in her head.
“You held a rolling pin,” Six said, shaking his head at her. “What were you going to do, Betty Crocker them to death?”
She pushed her hands against his chest, and this time he let her go. It had never occurred to her that someone would violate her home, but Six was right. If she looked at it logically, she obviously needed to upgrade every element of her home security. She couldn’t even remember when she’d last opened the window in the dining room, but she’d obviously become lax in locking it afterward. And none of her external security lights had come on, which meant they either weren’t effective or the sensors were pointing at the wrong places. And her alarm had the ability to be on for just the doors and windows when she was home but awake, yet she never—
“What’s going on inside that head of yours?” Six asked. “Because you disappear inside it sometimes and I worry when I see you start messing with things.”
Louisa looked down at her hands and realized she was restacking the coasters she had placed on the marble. “I was just thinking through what you said. I guess I’ve become a little lazy … I’ve stopped worrying about home security because nothing ever really happens here.”
“Okay, we’ll look at two things. One, how you protect your home, and two, how you protect yourself in the event that someone makes it past all of your other defenses.” He parted her bangs with his finger, and it made her shiver.
Since her father’s death, she hadn’t had anyone to count on. Not like this. “Why are you really here, Six? It’s not about my uneven shelves, is it?” she asked quietly.
Six studied her face, taking in her forehead, her cheeks, and even her neck before meeting her eyes. It was a moment that felt much longer, filled with … something. Potential, maybe. “Because you asked me to help, and—”
He stopped talking at the sound of wheels pulling onto the gravel. Quickly, he shut off the kitchen light, and it became apparent that the exterior lights were on. With a swift jog, gun drawn, he hurried to take a look out the window. Blue and red beams of light flashed onto her kitchen wall. They were the best thing she’d seen all day, well, other than seeing the door to the kitchen burst open and Six rolling in, looking as deadly as any soldier she’d ever seen. In hindsight, now that the danger had passed, she realized he’d looked hotter than any Hollywood action star in a big blockbuster movie.
Even as she wondered what other reason he’d been about to give her for being there, she realized that none of his words, or the arrival of the police, meant she was safe.

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Author Bio

Scarlett Cole Author Pic.jpg
Born in England, Scarlett Cole traveled the world, living in Japan and the United States before settling in Canada where she met her own personal hero – all six and a half feet of him. She now lives with her husband and children in Manchester, England where she’s at work on her next book. She is the author of The Strongest Steel.

Author Links

Website / Facebook / Twitter

Buy Links

Amazon / B&N / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Who is as anxious as I am for Meghan March’s Beneath the Truth to be released??? Here is an excerpt that will be having you beg for more!

 

From USA Today bestselling author Meghan March comes the final sexy standalone set in the Beneath world of New Orleans.

I used to believe there were lines in life you don’t cross.
Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Don’t steal.
Until I learned people don’t always practice what they preach.
I turned in my badge and gun and walked away from everything.
Then I got the call no one wants, and I’m back in New Orleans.
What I don’t expect is for her to be here too.
Another line you don’t cross?
Don’t touch your best friend’s little sister.
She’s always been off-limits.
Too bad I don’t follow the rules anymore.

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“Fine. If you don’t want to play me, I’m sure there’s someone in this bar who will.”

She rose from the bar stool and smoothed her dress down her thighs. I swore it looked longer at the cemetery than it did right now, inching up her toned legs. The shoulders and chest were sheer black lace, as sophisticated as could be, but the lace took on a sexier edge in the dim light of the bar. I’d lay money on her being the classiest thing this place had ever seen. And damn, what those heels did for her . . .

I ripped my gaze away from her ass to focus on her face.

Her lips flattened in obstinate challenge before she strutted toward the pool table. And yeah, I used the word strutted because there was no other way to describe how she walked in those stilettos now that her attitude was flaring.

Heads turned to follow her progress, and two guys jumped off their stools to follow her.

Oh, hell no. Not a chance, assholes.

I pushed off my seat and stalked toward her. Ari’s back was to me when I stopped behind her at the cue rack. She spun around, unaware of my presence, and smacked into my chest, a pool stick trapped between us. She sucked in a breath, jerking her head up.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were so close.”

Years ago, she never would have lost track of where I was if we were in the same room. The realization was a blow to my ego, although not unexpected. I no longer made the cut on her priority list, and that stung.

Rather than move and give her space, I reached around her to snag a cue off the rack, letting my arm brush her shoulder.

Ah . . . there it is. Her facial expression remained static, but her involuntary shiver gave her away. Maybe I’m not off the list completely.

I didn’t know why it mattered, but after the last few brutal days, I needed something good to distract me from the shit show that was my life. And there was no doubt in my mind that Ariel Sampson was everything good.

Her spine straightened and she bobbed around me, avoiding contact in favor of racking the balls and lining them up.

“Do you want to break?” she asked.

“Ladies first.”

Ari rolled her eyes and reached for the chalk. With her stick prepped, she leaned over the edge of the table, her ass jutting out and the hem of her dress riding up her thigh.

Lord . . . I groaned silently. This was torture.

Haven’t I been through enough? I tossed the question skyward and received no sign the big man had heard me.

I tore my gaze off her ass and scanned the bar. Mistake. My fist tightened around the pool cue as a reflex, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t use it to smack every jerk in this bar back into line if they didn’t quit staring. Double standard? Sure. But I didn’t care.

With a step behind her, I blocked the most direct view and turned to glare at all of them. Thankfully, Heath’s interest was hooked on the waitress working our table. One by one, the gazes dropped away, and I turned back to Ari, marginally satisfied that they picked up what I was throwing down. Off-limits, assholes.

Ari cursed and stood up straight, leaning lightly on her pool cue. “Dammit. I had that shot.”

I scanned the green felt and found half her balls were missing. “Jesus, what were you doing? Trying to clear the table?”

Her nose went up in the air. “Trying? If I wanted to clear the table, it would be clear. It’s just angles.”

“Brainiac as always.”

Ari shrugged, but I caught a hint of a smile. “Didn’t you hear? It’s cool to be a geek now.”

I had no doubt that wherever she lived in California, she was exactly what was cool. Shit, she had every man’s attention in this bar.

“You were always cool in my book, Red. My turn.” Even though I wanted to wait for her smile, I chalked my cue and sank two shots before missing the third.

“Not bad.” Her nonchalant tone made me grin.

“I try.”

Her eyes finally locked on mine. “I succeed.”

Hell. Why was that statement so damned sexy coming from her lips?

She pushed off her pool cue and spun around to face the table again, her dress sliding up another inch as she bent over the table.

My dick pulsed against my jeans.

Heath is going to kill me.

 

 

 

 

 

meghanmarchpic

Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

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