Category: excerpt

EXCLUSIVE PROMO: Hard Chrome by Vanessa North

Hi!

We’re really lucky to have an exclusive from Vanessa North’s new release Hard Chrome. It’s out now (ebook) – the print version will be out on 29 October. If you love small town romance – you’ll want to check this one out!

He’s tough. But she’s tougher.

Tanner Ellis left American Heavy Metal in her rearview mirror. She didn’t see the beauty behind the grease stains and the polished chrome until it was too late. Now she’s back, determined to save her father’s legacy —and bring the South’s premier classic-car shop into the new century. Nothing is going to stop her—especially not the sexy tech who refuses to follow her lead.

American Heavy Metal is the only home Duke Wilson’s ever known, and no high-heeled, sharp-tongued princess is going to take it away. He tolerates Tanner’s advice, and it’s fun to push her buttons, but she doesn’t belong in the shop—never has, never will. The sooner she realizes that, the sooner he can find his new normal.

When Tanner falters, revealing the pain beneath her bravado, Duke comforts her the only way he knows how. And when violence from his past threatens their future, she’ll be there for him, offering him the one thing he’s always wanted—a shot at a real family. He just has to convince himself to take it.


About Vanessa North: 

Vanessa North is a romance novelist, a short fiction geek, and a knitter of strange and wonderful things. Her works have been shortlisted for both the Lambda Literary Award and the RITA© Award, and have garnered praise from The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Publisher’s Weekly. She lives in Northwest Georgia with her family: a Viking, twin boy-children, and two large dogs.

 

Exclusive excerpt

Note from the author: It’s hard to pick a favorite scene from something I wrote — I like and need them all in the book for different reasons, but this one is definitely one of my favorites, because it’s early in the book, and it’s one of the first scenes where Tanner acknowledges to herself her attraction to Duke. –VN

“Well, hey there, princess.” The gruff voice, drawled out in amusement, stiffens my spine.
“Duke.”
“Is this seat taken?” He parks himself on Mac’s barstool.
“Yes,” I hiss. “Get lost.”
“Oooh, are you on a date?” He peers around the room, and then his shoulders drop. “Nah, nobody in this place is fancy enough for Tanner fuckin’ Ellis.” He juts his chin out and smirks at me, and while it should make me want to smack him, I can’t help but notice how his scruffy jaw is thrown into prominence, and the effect is rough and virile in a way that sends heat racing down my spine.
“Except that guy,” he continues, standing up again to stage whisper, “But he’s gay. Hey, Alfie. I was just keeping your seat warm.”
“Join us.” Mac drops on the barstool and slides a basket of food across the table to me. Before I can protest the impromptu invitation, Duke pulls another barstool over and sits next to me. Despite his rough appearance, he smells more like soap than motor oil, and as his arm brushes mine, his smirk turns into a genuine smile.
Of course that smile is for Mac, not me. “Any luck with the kid?” Duke jerks his head toward the bar.
Mac shrugs. “We’re keeping it casual. He’s sweet but still hung up on his ex.”
Brendan returns with the flight of beer and an extra glass, which he places in front of Duke. “Golden Monkey for the biggest tool in the shed.”
Duke laughs. “Thanks.”
“And for the lady…” Brendan places the flight in front of me. “Left to right is fifteen to eighteen. The tap ran out on seventeen, so I’m not going to charge you for that one, but if you like it, number ten is fairly similar. I’ll be back to check on y’all in a few.”
“Cheers.” Duke holds up his glass, and I pick up the beer at the far right of the flight and clink it against his.
“Cheers.” I tip back my glass and take the first sip. A funk of sour explodes over my tongue and I almost choke on it, but manage to swallow. “What the fuck is that?”
Duke and Mac laugh, and Mac plucks the glass from my hand. “I’ll be drinking this one, I guess.”
“I don’t like sour beers either.” Duke glances sideways at me, a soft smile tilting his lips up, so different from his usual cocky smirk. “I think I had the same reaction the first time I tasted one.”
And I can’t help myself. I smile back at him. “That shit was nasty.”
“Amen.” He takes another swig of his beer. “You’ll probably like that one, though.” He points at the darkest beer in the flight. “It tastes like coconut and chocolate. A Mounds bar in a glass.”
I sniff it warily, and it does smell chocolate-y. I take a sip, more cautious this time. Sweetness rolls over my tongue. “Oh my god.”
He bites his lip, eyes sparkling. “Those words look awful nice coming out of that pretty mouth.”
Heat flashes over me — am I turned on? Insulted? Both? And how fucked up is that?
“Leave her alone, asshole.” Mac slaps his arm. “She’s your boss.”
Duke rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Of course she is.”
“That’s right. I am.” I straighten in my seat, trying to will away the flush on my cheeks.
I half expect him to rise to my challenge. I put it out there, eager as sin. I could feel it melting down my spine, singing through my blood. Pick up that motherfucking gauntlet, Duke.
But he grins instead and takes a deep swallow of his beer.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, stubble halfway down his neck. What would it feel like under my fingers? The flush in my cheeks deepens.
His gaze meets mine, like he can see straight into those squirmy, hungry, angry parts of me I don’t like to admit exist. His grin falls, and it bottoms out in my bones. He does see.
Before I can say anything to turn it into a joke, or to cover that hunger with some kind of power game, he turns his attention to Mac.
“How’d you two meet?” He gestures at me like a painting on the wall.
Mac reaches across the table and places the sour beer glass back in the holder. “First day of kindergarten. I was scared out of my mind. Remember, T?”
I smile at him, forced into my part. How often had we told this story? “He was wearing a purple cape, and he was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. I knew he was going to be my best friend, so I told him so.”
“Bossy, bossy.” Mac grins at me. “It turns out, though, she needed a superhero in a purple cape because she was just as scared as I was.”
“Your dad let you wear a purple cape to school?” Duke stares back and forth between the two of us until Mac’s grin falls away and he gives a half shrug.
“Yeah, well. My dad was never big on telling me no. Neither is Mom.”
“Mac’s parents had him late in life,” I explain. “He was their miracle—I think they were afraid if they told him no, he’d vanish into thin air. Lucky for them, he doesn’t have the temperament to spoil. He wants everyone to be happy.”
Mac blushes. “She’s mostly exaggerating.”
Grinning at Mac, Duke picks up one of my neglected beers and drinks it down. “Sounds about right, though.” He reaches out and claps Mac on the shoulder. “I got the beers. Y’all heading to the show?”
“Show?” I look at Mac.
“There’s a free concert in the bowl.”
The bowl. It has an official name now—something or other bank amphitheater—but the little angled-lawn park across the street was still the bowl. And God only knows what kind of Brooks and Dunn tribute or Kiss cover group they’re hosting tonight.
“Do we have to?”
“C’mon, princess, save me a dance.” Duke leans over and rubs his stubble along my chin, a weird, intimate gesture—like he knew I’d been itching to feel it—but friendly, because a hug would send me running. And somehow, the beers gone straight to my head, I nod.
And that’s how I find myself howling along to, of all things, a Bon Jovi cover band, the feel of his stubble still tingling along my jaw, the last of the coconut and chocolate beer dancing on my tongue. Duke and Mac stand behind me, bouncing shoulder to shoulder in that camaraderie that still doesn’t make sense to me, until the music changes and Duke spins me into his arms.
I settle against him, hip to hip, as the strains of “I’ll Be There For You” swell through the bowl.
“You remember this song? My ma used to sing it a lot.” His left hand clasps my right and pulls it in close to our chests.
“Hardly. Maybe I was conceived to it.”
He throws his head back and laughs, and it might be the first unguarded laugh I’ve ever seen out of him, because it pulls a grin from me too. I relax into the dance, his body moving mine effortlessly in a small circle on the angled lawn, like he was taking care to shift our weight so I never stumbled into the downhill.
“I don’t get you,” I say into his chest.
“I don’t get you either,” he rumbles, his words too soft and close to carry out into crowd to Mac.

Excerpt reveal: Hate Notes by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward

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A standalone romance novel published by Montlake Romance
New York Times Bestselling Authors Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
Release date: Tuesday, November 6, 2018

SYNOPSIS
It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress.

Something blue.

I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.”

Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there. Because I’ve since found out something else about Mr. Starry-Eyed.

He’s arrogant, cynical, and demanding. I should know. Thanks to a twist of fate, he’s my new boss. But that’s not going to stop me from discovering the story behind his last love letter. A love letter that did not result in a happily ever after.

But that story is nothing compared to the one unfolding between us. It’s getting hotter, sweeter, and more surprising than anything I could have imagined.

Something new.

But I have no idea how this one is going to end . . .

Excerpt:

Grabbing my laptop, I searched my history and called up the last website I’d visited.

Eastwood Properties is one of the largest independent brokerage firms in the world. We connect the most prestigious and exclusive properties with qualified buyers, assuring the utmost privacy for both parties. Whether you’re in the market for a luxury New York City penthouse with a view of the park, a waterfront Hampton estate, or an enchanting chateau escape in the mountains, or you’re ready for your own private island, Eastwood is where your dreams begin.

There was a link to search properties, so I typed in the name of the place the woman had mentioned in the voice mail: Millennium Tower. Sure enough, the penthouse popped up for sale. For only twelve million dollars, I could own an apartment on Columbus Avenue with sweeping views of Central Park. Let me write you a check.

After drooling through a video and two dozen photos, I clicked on the button to make an appointment to view the property. An application popped up, the top of which read: For the privacy and safety of our sellers, all prospective buyers are required to complete an application to view properties. Only buyers that meet our stringent prequalification criteria will be contacted.

I snorted. Great prequalification criteria you have there, Eastwood. I wasn’t sure I had enough money to take the train uptown to get to that swanky place, much less buy it. God knows what I’d written that had qualified me.

I closed the website and was just about to shut my laptop and go back to bed again when I decided to take one more peek at Mr. Romantic on Facebook.

God, he was gorgeous.

What if . . .

I shouldn’t.

No good ever came out of ideas formulated while drunk.

I couldn’t.

But . . .

That face . . .

And that note.

So romantic. So beautiful.

Plus . . . I’d never seen the inside of a twelve-million-dollar penthouse.

I really shouldn’t.

Then again . . . I’d spent the last two years doing everything I should do. And where had that gotten me?

Right here. It’d gotten me right damn here—hungover and unemployed, sitting in this crappy apartment. Maybe it was time I did the things I shouldn’t be doing for a change. I picked up my phone and let my finger hover over the “Call Back” button for a while.

Screw it.

No one would ever know. It could be fun—getting all dressed up and playing the part of a rich Upper West Sider while satisfying my curiosity about the man. What harm was there?

None that I could think of. Still, you know what they say about curiosity . . .

I pressed “Call Back.”

“Hi. This is Charlotte Darling calling to confirm an appointment with Reed Eastwood…”

Available November 6th
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Please Note: Because Hate Notes is published by Montlake Romance, a division of Amazon, the ebook and paperback will only be available on Amazon. If you are an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited member, you should NOT pre-order the eBook. The Hate Notes ebook will be free for both Prime and KU members on release day!

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Excerpt reveal: Dirty Headlines by L.J. Shen

Hi all! I feel like the excerpt that is about to follow needs to come with a warning. It’s hot. And graphic. Those of a sensitive nature should turn back…NOW! Still here? Well, don’t say you weren’t warned…

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Dirty Headlines, an all-new sexy, enemies-to-lovers romance from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen is coming September 7th and we have the first sneak peek!

Blurb:

Célian Laurent.

Manhattan royalty.

Notorious playboy.

Heir to a media empire.

…And my new boss.

I could have impressed him, if not for last month’s unforgettable one-night stand.

I left it with more than orgasms and a pleasant memory—namely, his wallet.

Now he’s staring me down like I’m the dirt under his Italian loafers, and I’m supposed to take it.

But the thing about being Judith “Jude” Humphry is I have nothing to lose.

Brooklyn girl.

Infamously quirky.

Heir to a stack of medical bills and a tattered couch.

When he looks at me from across the room, I see the glint in his eyes, and that makes us rivals.

He knows it.

So do I.

Every day in the newsroom is a battle.

Every night in his bed, war.

But it’s my heart at stake, and I fear I’ll be raising the white flag.

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2GuCKIB

Excerpt:

He had an American accent. Not French. American. Smooth. Familiar. Ordinary. He fired out sentences at the speed of light. I heard him, but I couldn’t listen. Shock gripped my body as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. My dirty one-night stand was my boss. My lying, American boss. And now I had to deal with that—hopefully for a very long time, because I desperately needed this job.

Someone snapped their fingers, and my gaze shot from Célian’s face to Grayson.

His forehead had crumpled into a frown. “You look like you’re trying hard not to cry or having a really intense orgasm. I’m hoping for you that it’s the latter and some kind of a weird-slash-awesome condition. You okay?”

I nodded, scraping up a smile. “Sorry. Zero orgasms happening under this dress. I just zoned out for a second.” Lies. I was about to orgasm just remembering how good Célian had felt parting my thighs with his big, callused hands and dipping his tongue into my slit.

Then words stopped streaming down on everyone’s heads like a scalding shower, and I realized that indeed there was something worse than hearing Célian speak in his perfect American English. And that was not hearing him speak at all. Because now the icicles were pointed at me like a cocked gun.

I glanced up to meet his gaze. He stared at me for exactly one second before his focus snapped to Grayson. “Am I understood, Gregory?” he asked.

Gregory?

“Crystal clear, sir,” Grayson bowed, his voice trembling at the edges.

Célian jerked his chin toward me. “Your cover girl material is going downhill.”

God. Damn. Bastard.

He recognized me, and I knew it. His eyes had kindled, melting the ice and growing darker the minute our gazes mingled. He remembered, and maybe it killed him that I was here in the same way it buried me.

I want my iPod back, my gaze told him. I had over three thousand songs on that thing, and they were all too good to be wasted on that jerk.

“Jude Humphry. Junior reporter. It’s her first day,” Grayson highlighted, almost pleadingly. He shifted in my direction, as if he might need to physically protect me from the sharp-tongued, suited monster.

I suppressed a smile when I realized I’d told Célian my last name was Spears. Well, he certainly wasn’t a Timberlake. He was a Laurent. An American monarch through and through. A billionaire, a powerful force, and judging by our one and only encounter – a raging playboy.

This man was inside you, I internally shrieked. And not just once. His cock was buried so deep in you, you screamed. You can still taste the salty, earthy flavor of his cum. You know he has a freckle on his lower back. You know what sound he makes when he empties inside a woman.

I internally thanked my mind for ruining my panties in public, and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” I offered him my hand, my face flushing with embarrassment at my choice of words.

Everyone was looking at us, and there were at least fifty people in the room. Célian – if that was even his name – ignored my outreached hand. Instead, he turned his face to the man beside him. “Mathias, any other words of wisdom?”

Mathias? Wasn’t that his father? Just how cold was the man with the icy blue eyes?

“I think you touched everything,” said the big boss—and he did have a heavy French accent, so at least the lie had a seed. Mathias stared at me placidly, like he could read the secret his son and I shared on my face.

Célian spun toward me, uncuffing his cufflinks and rolling his sleeves up his veiny forearms. “Accounting can go back to their unfortunate line of work. Couture is excused from this meeting – though not forgiven for their horrid blog. Miss Humphry?” He snapped his fingers impatiently.

He was already waltzing down the narrow hallway, knowing I’d chase him like a puppy, and no doubt taking pleasure in that fact.

“I have a bone to pick with you.”

Bone, boner – same difference, right?

I shot Grayson a please-save-my-butt look. His eyes said, I would but I still have a life to live.

I followed Célian down the hall, my Chucks slapping the floor in a hurry. He sliced through the throng of accountants, then stopped at a corner office, opened the door, barked “Out!” to the man inside, and tilted his head for me to go in. I did. He closed the door, and it was just the two of us.

Two feet of empty space between us. 

About L.J. Shen:

L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.

Before she’d settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends who’d be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets people’s’ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.

She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.

Connect with L.J. Shen:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorljshen/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lj_shen

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Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/

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Sneak peek: The Naked Truth by Vi Keeland

I’m so very excited about this book! Cannot wait for it to drop! We were lucky enough to get a sneak peak – I have a feeling I’m going to fall for Gray…

The Naked Truth Sneak Peek teaser

CONTINUE READING FOR MORE GRAY

IN AN EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEEK OF

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The Naked Truth Excerpt Reveal Banner

“May I get you something to drink while you wait for the rest of your party?” the waiter asked.

I would normally wait to see what the client did and follow his lead on alcohol. But tonight was not the norm.

I rubbed at my stiff neck. “I’ll take a vodka cranberry, please.”

I hoped it would help calm my nerves and release some of the tension in my jaw before I gave myself a full-blown headache. Taking out my phone, I started to scroll through emails to distract myself while waiting for my drink and dinner companion.

My head whipped up at the sound of Gray’s voice behind me. “Sorry I’m late.”

My heart unexpectedly fluttered, and I fought against the feeling of excitement. “Are you really? Because I get the sense you don’t have any manners after the way you interrupted me a million times today.”

He completely ignored my attitude as he took the seat across from me. “Traffic is a bitch getting downtown at this time. Next time we’ll have dinner at my place.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

Gray’s mouth curved into a smug smile as he snagged my gaze. “Sure there will. There’ll be plenty of next times. And eventually you’ll stop pretending you don’t enjoy my company.”

I hated that my body reacted to him. Right from the very start, we’d had a crazy chemistry between us that was difficult to dull.

I sighed. “What are you doing, Gray? Why did you come to my firm?”

He lifted the cloth napkin in front of him and laid it across his lap. “Isn’t that obvious? I need new legal representation.”

“At my firm? And you’d prefer that representation come from an associate instead of my boss’s boss—the head of our securities division? Or even from Pittman, who would gladly hold your hand and provide you whatever legal advice you need from his fifty-plus years of experience?”

“Loyalty is important to me. I want someone I can trust with my business.”

“And you’ve decided that’s me? An associate with five years experience who just got off probation with the Bar Association for violating attorney-client privilege?”

The waiter arrived with my drink. “Here you go, ma’am.” He turned to Gray. “May I get you something to drink? Or would you like to wait until the last of your party joins you this evening?”

“It’s just the two of us. I’ll have a Macallan, neat, please.”

“Coming right up.” The waiter walked around to the other side of the table and started to remove the third place setting.

I put my hand out, stopping him. “We actually do have another party coming, so you can leave that.”

“Very well.” He nodded.

Gray waited until the waiter was out of earshot. “I didn’t invite anyone else to dinner.”

I sipped my drink and offered a saccharine-sweet fake smile. “I did. Figured an important client like you should have more than one attorney to answer his questions.”

Just as I set down my glass, I saw the other man I was waiting for enter the restaurant. He scanned the room, looking for me, so I held up my hand and waved.

“Perfect timing. There’s Oliver now.”

Gray glanced at the man heading toward us and back to me. Instead of being pissed off, the jerk was amused. “That’s cute. You invited a chaperone because you don’t trust yourself with me.”

We hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of THE NAKED TRUTH.

The Naked Truth by Vi Keeland

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Excerpt reveal: Disgrace by Brittainy C. Cherry

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Disgrace, an all-new romantic and emotional standalone from Brittainy C. Cherry is available NOW!

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Synopsis:

Each day I prayed for my husband to love me again.

After fifteen years together, he walked away from me, and into the arms of another.

I didn’t know how to cope. I didn’t know my worth. I didn’t know how to exist without him by my side.

All I wanted was for him to come back to me.

Then, Jackson Emery appeared.

He was supposed to be a distraction for my mind. A summer fling. A confidence boost to my bruised heart.

We were perfect for one another, because we both knew we wouldn’t last. Jackson didn’t believe in commitment, and I no longer believed in love. He was too closed-off for me, and I was too damaged for him.

Everything was fine, until one night my heart skipped a beat.

I didn’t expect him to make me laugh. To make me think. To make my sadness somewhat disappear.

When our time was up, my heart didn’t know how to walk away.

Each day I prayed for my husband to love me again, yet slowly my prayers began to shift toward the man who wasn’t right for me.

I prayed for one more smile, one more kiss, one more laugh, one more touch…

I prayed for him to be mine.

Even though I knew his heart wasn’t destined to love.

DISGRACE_AVAIL NOW KU

Download today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2tyiVaM

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/DisgraceBC

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2o8Xslh

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Excerpt:

Jackson

“I’ve read about boys like you in books, ya know,” she whispered, her fingers slowly spinning spirals on my chest.

“Oh, yeah? What did those books teach you about boys like me?”

“Well…” She bit her bottom lip, and with a small inhalation, she whispered, “They taught me to stay away.”

“Then why are you so close?”

She tilted her head up, looking me straight in the eyes. “Because in those stories, the heroine never ever listens.”

“And then there’s trouble?” I asked.

“Yes, and then there’s trouble.”

From the way she said those words, I knew trouble was exactly what she was in search of. We were the classic cliché. She was the good girl next door, I the monster from around the block. We were perfect opposites for the perfect storm, and she was asking me to be her next flaw, her greatest mistake.

And, well, who was I not to live up to her request?

“I could destroy you,” I warned.

“Or save me.”

“Is it worth the risk?”

“Isn’t it always worth the risk?”

The more she touched me, the more I wanted to touch her back. I wrapped my hands around her wrists flipping us around so she was now against the wall with her hands above her head. “I have rules.” I leaned in closer, lightly brushing my lips against her neck. God, she smelled good, like peaches and my next sin. “You can’t break these rules, either.” My tongue rolled from my mouth and circled against her neck before I gently sucked her skin.

She shivered at my touch. “What are they?”

“Rule one,” I whispered, my mouth moving across her collarbone. “You never stay the night.”

“Check.”

“Rule number two,” I said, dropping her left arm to the side. Taking my hand to the bottom of her blouse, I slowly raised it up and massaged her skin. “You never develop feelings.”

“That’s easy enough,” she replied, her breaths uneven as I teased at the top button on her jeans. “I don’t believe in feelings anymore.”

I didn’t know why, but that made me sad for her. I, too, didn’t believe in falling for people, but that was my norm. Grace seemed the type to believe in something bigger than love, so the fact that her belief was completely gone was a bit surprising.

Maybe we had more in common than I thought.

“Rule number three…we don’t talk about my life.”

“Like ever?”

“Never.”

“Okay.”

“And lastly, rule number four…” My mouth brushed against hers, and I slid my tongue slowly across her bottom lip. “If your favorite pair of panties get ripped, don’t expect me to replace them.”

About the Author:

Hi! I’m Brittainy! Join me as we travel through my mind as a Romance Author. This includes such things as my random thoughts, tricks, tips, things I’m learning, things I’m re-learning, things I’m forgetting, and my weird ways of crafting stories.

Connect with Brittainy:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BrittainyCherryAuthor/

Twitter: @BrittainyCherry

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Exclusive excerpt – Her Claim by Rebecca Grace Allen

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Her Claim by Rebecca Grace Allen

Series: Legally Bound #2

Publisher: Rebecca Grace Allen Enterprises

Release Date: (Print & Ebook): April 23, 2018

Length: ebook – 90K words, print 345 pages

Content warnings: BDSM, rough play, enemies to lovers, breath play, staged ‘non-consent’ games.

Preorder from Amazon|B&N|iBooks|Google play|Kobo

Blurb

She’s no princess. He’s no prince. Then again, they never wanted a fairy tale.

Cassie Allbright takes no prisoners. A half Cuban ball-busting attorney, she’s too tough to admit what she wants in bed. But tough is the only way to cut it in her high-powered firm, and Cassie doesn’t need a knight in shining armor. And she definitely doesn’t need Patrick Dunham – an arrogant, chauvinistic man-whore with a knack for pissing her off.

Bound to the helm of his family’s publishing house, Patrick is shackled to a life of power and wealth he never wanted. Seduction is his only distraction—his nights of pleasure always temporary, because happily-ever- afters are not for him. But while luring a woman into his bed has always come easy, the high-and- mighty Cassie has never succumbed to his charms.

Their verbal sparring turns to foreplay, but instead of scratching an itch, it only whets their appetites. Patrick gives Cassie a taste of what she’s secretly craved, and Cassie’s dark desires
stir up things Patrick never knew he wanted. Enchanted, he offers to fulfill her most dangerous fantasies. She agrees, with an iron-clad escape clause: her heart is off-limits, and so is his.

Funny thing about hearts, though. They have a way of ignoring the fine print.

Warning: This book isn’t for the faint of heart. Disclosure includes angry, vying-for- control hate sex and one steamy weekend in Miami. Ready? Break the caution tape and proceed.

Excerpt

“I’ve always loved your spitfire attitude.”

121F5BB3-0F58-49DE-BADA-3F25F1EE3B47Patrick’s voice cut through the night. Cassie stopped and whirled around. He was standing at the doorway to the bar, his arms crossed like a bouncer or a Greek god.

“Have you now?” Cassie cocked her brow and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, you’d love me in bed then. I’m a spitfire there too.”

The words popped out before she could stop them, but she didn’t regret it. For once, she wanted that bastard to know the chance he’d passed up. Because she might never have been in love and had dated some serious losers, but damn it she knew how to make a man moan.

Patrick dropped his hands to his sides and quickly closed the distance between them.

“Prove it,” he said.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re a spitfire in bed. Unless all you can do with that mouth of yours is talk.”

It took everything in her not to snarl. He was baiting her, seeing how pissed off he could get her, like he always did.

Screw the consequences. She’d had enough of his attitude. This time, she was calling his bluff.

About Rebecca Grace Allen:

Rebecca Grace allen holds a Bachelor of Arts in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Literary Comparison as well as of Master of Science degree in Elementary Education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict & gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets, and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish.

Connect with Rebecca Grace Allen:

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Want to read an exclusive prequel to Her Claim? THE PARTY, a bonus read in both Cassie and Patrick’s points of view is available FOR FREE if you sign up for Rebecca’s newsletter.

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Book blitz: Ainsley Booth’s Personal Escort

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Synopsis

She needs a fake fiancé. He’s secretly falling in love. 

Cara Russo needs to get married. Or at least, make it look like she got married.
Toby Hunt can’t let his best friend’s little sister rush into anything foolish. So when she needs to hire an escort, he says he’ll take care of it. 
Now he’s waiting for her at St. George Station.

This billionaire romcom modern fairy tale was originally published in the Love in Transit anthology. It has been expanded for single title publication.

The Billionaire Secrets series:
Personal Delivery – Jake and Jana
Personal Escort – Toby and Cara
Personal Disaster – Marcus and Poppy (currently available in the Rogue Desire anthology)
Personal Interest – Ben and Skye, coming soon.

Excerpt:
The letter falls out of my hand and flutters to the floor as my fingers immediately slick with sweat.
Oh, no. No, no, no…
I spin around grab for my phone. Toby’s number is in my Fav List. I stab at his name, then press the phone to my ear. My hand is shaking, and that just gets worse when he doesn’t answer.

Shit.

I huff out a breath and stare down at the letter. Might as well read the rest of it before totally freaking out.

Nope, too late.

I lean over and grab it.

I was so pleased to hear you have a change of heart about looking for love. So to that end, I’ve hired the services of a well-regarded Toronto matchmaker. Expect a phone call from them early next week to set up an appointment. You’ll need to attend a number of meetings as they pay extraordinary attention to detail so as to find you just the right man.

The right man isn’t answering his phone. Also, he’s off-limits. And way older than me. And Ben’s best friend. And he lives in California…

Wait.

My heart pounds in my chest. No, Toby isn’t the right man. Not for me.

But that mouth…

Well, yeah, anyone who’d been kissed like that would think they might like another taste. That’s normal.

My phone rings, surprising me. I squeak and jump and die a little inside as I flop to the floor. Toby’s name is flashing on the screen.

“Hi,” I say as I answer it.

“What’s wrong?” Oh God, he’s all sleepy. His voice is warm and rough and sounds like sex.

Did I interrupt sex?

Did he call me back after I interrupted sex?

Except the sleepy… That doesn’t make any sense. “Where are you?”

“Tokyo,” he mumbles. “It’s almost five in the morning.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“Itsokay,” His words slur together before he takes a long, slow inhale, then grunts. “I’m up. I’d have to get up in half an hour anyway, I have a breakfast meeting with Sony people.”

“Fancy.”

He laughs and I picture him stretching. What does he sleep in when he’s traveling the world? Pajama pants that hang low on his hips? Boxer briefs? Nothing?

I suddenly want more of that picture.

 
About the Author
Mom by day and filthy romance writer by night, Ainsley is super grateful for caffeine, banana and blueberry muffins, and yoga pants. She is the USAT bestselling author of Prime Minister and Hate F*@k, and also writes sexy small town and military romance as Zoe York.

Excerpt reveal – Defiant Attraction by V.K. Torston

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I love connecting with new authors and reading their work – below is a short excerpt from debut author V.K Torston, and Defiant Attraction will be out soon (Nov 6th) and I can’t recommend it highly enough! Look out for my review on release day.

Twisting the tray from side to side breaks the ice with a satisfying crack. I’ve almost gone so far as to pour water into my glass before I stop. Memories from last night surface and I recall sitting up in bed picking popcorn out of my bra.

Dan is wearing elastic-waist pajamas. I can see the edge of his boxer-briefs peeking out of the top but their waistline is much the same scenario. Everything has been so relaxed today. He’s perfectly content—humming to himself!—while he finishes scrubbing the sink. He would never see it coming.

I pad softly across the linoleum, careful not to make a sound. The glass of ice waits poised in my hand. Dan finishes rinsing the sponge. In one fell swoop I wrench back a handful of pajama-and-boxer and let loose a frozen torrent.

Dan jumps, surprised, but he’s still reacting more to the grabbing than anything. While he knows something has happened, he doesn’t yet know what.

I can’t contain my devious grin while he searches my face. Then—there it is. A yelp, a jump, a shake. Cube after freezing cube tumbles from his pant legs. More yet are trapped inside his underwear. He hops from foot to foot and tries to push them out. Then he changes strategy.

“You little—”

“No!” I squeal, giggling wildly, and tear out of the kitchen.

I circle the table and he pauses just across its diameter. I try to feint left. He jerks then corrects his course and lunges. I backtrack.

We’re stuck in a dead heat. A draw. One of us will have to make a break for it.

Throwing caution into the wind, I take off away from the table and leap over the couch. He struggles to follow my maneuver. Probably something to do with the glassful of ice melting in his underwear. I can’t stop shrieking like a child and waving my hands like an idiot. If I don’t make it to my room, he’s going to tickle the fuck out of me.

My heart leaps as I crash through my door and tug it closed behind me. It stops short of snapping shut. One tattooed arm pries it open.

I jump back and seize a pillow from my bed like a shield. “No!”

Then the tickle-fingers. Just the sight of them breaks something inside me and I start laughing so hard I can’t breathe. Once, twice, three times I whack him with my pillow. He yanks it away and I trip backward onto my bed.

We land hard and he quickly takes both the figurative and literal upper hand. One knee wedges between my legs to keep me from kicking. His hands snatch my wrists in turn, pinning them above my head.

Dead heat. Stalemate. My armpits are terribly exposed but he can’t tickle me as long as he’s holding me down. My chest rises and falls as fast as my heartbeat. Desperate laughs push through my tight-pressed lips.

This close, his face a spare few inches from mine, I notice a field of freckles for the very first time. Light, almost invisible, they dust his nose and cheeks. Freckles don’t seem like something Dan should have.

The lunatic laughter dies in my throat but my chest still rises and falls. A muscle in his jaw works. Green eyes dart rapidly between mine, thinking. About what, I’m not sure.

When we landed, his chest pressed down against mine. Now I feel his thin, worn sleeping t-shirt against my thin, worn sleeping t-shirt. No bra in between. On either side, only skin.

His hands, coiled around my wrists. My breasts, curving against his chest. Our lips, inches apart. This is starting to look like…something.

Our eyes stay locked. The longer we remain like this, the more the next movement matters. The stakes are shooting up. Maybe, if I could move, I could just tickle him back…

His knee shifts a fraction, hardly anything at all. Or maybe I imagined it. A rush of heat flows between my legs—so strong and so sudden I’m sure he could feel it. The fabric is so thin it might as well be bare skin. Goosebumps erupt down my arms. My nipples pull to points against him. He must feel them too.

I’ve been staring into his eyes so long…however long this has been—an infinity— and I mark their swift change. Something has happened there. Some choice, some determination…

Some noise rises from my throat. I’m not even sure if it was a sound or just a feeling, but I sense how it changed me. The space between us starts to close.

***

Pre-Order on Amazon: http://goo.gl/24LSrs
Add on Goodreads: http://goo.gl/pcQ6uK
Find V.K. Torston Online:
Author Website: http://vktorston.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/vktorston
Facebook: http://facebook.com/vktorston

Sneak Peek: Tequila Sunrise by Layla Reyne

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This gender-flipped take on the modern holiday classic, “Die Hard,” is full of action, heart and laughter, as Mel and Danny’s romance shines and the Agents Irish and Whiskey team race to save the day.

Teaser:

Danny finished knotting his bowtie and snagged his phone off the desk. Dark still. No more texts from Mel. He hit the call button. Straight to voicemail—not Mel’s recorded voice—automated instead, reciting a random number generated by Jamie’s embedded kill switch.

He turned the device end-over-end in his hand, giving himself reasons not to worry. Mel was on US soil, the most dangerous part of her job done. She had all the necessary paperwork and permits, never leaving for any gig without them. She could out-interrogate anyone, especially a couple of customs agents. She’d serve them their balls for dinner, and if things got physical, he had no doubt about her combat skills. He’d witnessed her take down multiple mercenaries at once, single-handed, without ever drawing a gun.

But the fact she’d activated the kill switch, the fact she’d had him phone Nic Price at the US Attorney’s office, and the fact that sixty minutes had turned into ninety and now bordered on one-twenty, meant he was worried, regardless of all the reasons not to be.

This had to be karma, retribution for sleeping his way through his teens and twenties. Don Juan Danny, Mel had once called him. Then of course he’d fallen for her, the resident badass who could break his neck as easily as she could break his heart. Which almost happened last spring when she’d nearly died, twice.

He could still remember her unconscious form, thrown against the wall and hair singed off by an explosion. And not twelve hours later, her blood, her life, pooling under his hand and staining her white sweater, bleeding out from the gunshot wound she’d taken to save his brother and their niece.

Miraculously, she’d pulled through, both times, and so had they, but Mel refused to be caged, and Danny knew they’d never last if he tried to put her in one. Granted, he got a stomach ulcer for it, no matter how calm he seemed on the outside, but if that was the price he had to pay for being with her, so be it. Having come close to losing that love, to losing her, he didn’t want to experience that awful feeling again for many, many years.

Years. They’d have years together, a lifetime, he reassured himself…

About the book:

 True love perseveres in this Agents Irish and Whiskey spin-off novella from author Layla Reyne

Former FBI agent Melissa “Mel” Cruz spent years skirting the line between life and death, knowing the next assignment might be her last. Back from overseas and eager to enjoy life outside the Bureau, she’s ready to give Danny Talley a Christmas Eve he’ll never forget.

A proved asset in high-stakes missions, Danny’s known for having the skill and brains to get the job done. When the Talley flagship is hijacked during the company holiday party, he’ll do anything to save his family, his love and everything they’ve all worked so hard to build. But their enemies have a secondary protocol—leave no survivors—and that plan is already in play.

Navigating through a tangled web of lies and betrayal, Mel and Danny race against the clock to retake the ship before their future goes up in flames. As the seconds tick down, they’re forced to face their greatest fear—losing each other.

About Layla Reyne:

Layla Reyne PhotoAuthor Layla Reyne was raised in North Carolina and now calls San Francisco home. She enjoys weaving her bi-coastal experiences into her stories, along with adrenaline-fueled suspense and heart pounding romance. When she’s not writing stories to excite her readers, she downloads too many books, watches too much television, and cooks too much food with her scientist husband, much to the delight of their smushed-face, leftover-loving dogs.

Connect with Layla: Author Site | Twitter | FB | FB Group | Pinterest | Tumblr | Instagram | Goodreads | Newsletter

Excerpt reveal: The Debt by Molly O’Keefe


I’m really excited to share a new series with you. Molly O’Keefe is one of my favourite authors. She can do it all – lighthearted romps or gritty romances – they’re all brilliant! 

The Debt by Molly O’Keefe is NOW LIVE and FREE!

Grab the prologue to The Debt Duet now & keep reading for an excerpt!


Amazon|Nook|Kobo|iBooks|Google Play

Love and second chances are NEVER free.

For the five kids who live at St. Jude’s Home for Court Placed Juveniles, life is a nightmare.

Carissa, the youngest, has been there the longest. And barely speaks.

Rosa is sixteen and pregnant.

Simon keeps his head down and studies, hoping to get back the life he lost.

Beth and Tommy, in the middle of the darkness, have found each other, and all they want is to be together. But when they get caught making out at school, it puts everyone in danger. Tommy is used to the beatings from their foster father, but when Beth is singled out for punishment, Tommy can’t sit back and let it happen.

AND ALL DEBTS MUST BE PAID.

What happens that night rips apart the lives of the five teenagers forever.

After the blood has been spilled, a bargain is made. A deal with the devil that should have solved things. It should have fixed everything.

But nothing is free – not love, not innocence, and certainly not freedom. And sooner or later, all debts must be paid…

EXCERPT:

“What do you want, Tommy?” she breathed. So close. So beautiful. With her free hand she took off her glasses and tossed them on the ground. Her eyes, lined in black liner raked over me.

And mine raked over her.

“You,” I said, so raw I was practically inside out. “Just once.”

She laughed low in her throat. “You have a few questions you want answered, do you?” she asked.

“Don’t you?”

“God yes.”

She stepped forward until she was nearly touching me. It took my inhale for my chest to brush hers. I exhaled and our bodies retreated. She inhaled and we touched. Exhaled and retreated.

We each did it again. And then again. Breathing each other in, in turns. Finally it wasn’t enough and I stepped toward her, and my cock pressed against her stomach and she pushed against me. Her breasts and belly imprinted on my skin.

“One time,” she said. “One time and we go back to our lives and get on with things. I’m going to forget you, Tommy. And you’re going to forget me.”

I doubted it, but I wasn’t going to argue. Not with my dick pushed up against the tight muscles of her stomach. Not with her breath, sweet from the pop and the candy she’d eaten, making me crazy.

“I’m serious, Tommy,” she said as if she could read my mind. “I don’t want to be hurt anymore, and I really, really don’t want to hurt you anymore. Promise you’ll forget me.”

“I promise,” I said, because when threatened with the idea of hurting her, I’d agree to anything to stop that. “I’ll forget you, right after I fuck you.”

PREORDER THE DEBT DUET NOW!

LOST WITHOUT YOU – June 19th

Amazon ➤ http://amzn.to/2qkAUAX

iBooks ➤ http://apple.co/2qk3Jer


WHERE I BELONG – June 26th

Amazon ➤ http://amzn.to/2qkC5jM

iBooks ➤ http://apple.co/2qh6gbc

About the Author:

Molly O’Keefe is an award-winning author of over 30 romance novels. She lives in Toronto, Canada with her family and the largest heap of dirty laundry in North America. Sign up for her newsletter to get release day news, exclusive excerpts, sale announcements and in-depth author interviews!

Connect with Molly:

Website: http://www.molly-okeefe.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MollyOKeefeBooks/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MollyOKwrites

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MollyOKeefe