NOW AVAILABLE!! Control by K Bromberg

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author K. Bromberg comes a new story in her Everyday Heroes series…

Control is something Desi Whitman abhors. Why live life in black and white perfection when you can messily color outside the lines?

But when she comes face to face with SWAT officer Reznor Mayne, he’s about to show her just how good control can feel.

Amazon

Men are on women.

Women are on women.

Grunts and groans fill the air.

There is cheering from the sidelines as bystanders watch them writhe and buck and try to get the other off them.

“It’s like a big orgy in here,” I say to the woman standing beside me. I don’t know her, but she’s standing like we are, back against the gym wall, eyes glued to the men and women fighting for positioning—moving, bucking, defending—on the mats where they’re lying.

She emits a nervous laugh and looks to me. Prim and proper, she resembles a Stepford wife, and all I can think is that her ladies’ club decided to do this together and she’s the only one who decided to show up.

At least I’m not the only one nervous about being here. There could be worse things I guess…like actually needing to use the skills I’m supposed to learn here in Sunnyville Self Defense Class to protect myself.

A group at the far side of the gym erupts in applause, and I stand on my tiptoes to see a woman standing with her foot on the instructor’s throat while he’s lying on the mat. His red SSDC T-shirt matches everyone else standing around trying to look official with a whistle and gym pants on.

“Exactly,” a deep rumble of a voice on the other side of me says.

I glance over and whoa…all my attention shifts from the grunts and groans on the floor to how I wouldn’t mind grunting and groaning with the man on his cell beside me. Our gazes meet for the briefest of seconds—chocolate-brown eyes giving me a passing glance and a curt smile before turning back to whoever is on the phone while watching the action beyond.

Taking my time and trying not to pay attention to HottieMcTotty, I scan the gym. Basic blue gymnastic mats cover the majority of the hardwood floors, basketball hoops hang from the lofty ceiling but have been drawn up, and championship banners hang, partially hiding the painted mural of the Sunnyville High School mascot on the wall at the far end.

But no matter how hard I try to not look back at him, that is where my attention lands. He’s a good six inches taller than I am, has dark hair, and his body beneath his Under Armour workout shirt hints at how ridiculously fit he is. His bicep closest to me stretches the fabric and is covered in a dizzying tattooed array of colors and images I can’t openly look at to decipher. You can only do so much with a sideways stare.

But his voice. It’s like liquid sex with a rasp and a rumble and a whole earth-shattering orgasm in between.

Hello to you, Mister A-Little-Rugged-And-Whole-Lot-Sexy.

I listen to him talk. Not stalkerish-like…well, maybe stalkerish-like, but damn if the background of grunting and groaning only serves to enhance the things my mind is dreaming up.

And then it hits me.

He’s not here as an instructor—no red SSDC shirt on. So that means he’s here as a boyfriend or a husband and therefore completely off limits.

Damn it.

If he were an instructor, I’d make sure to be in his group so he could grind on me for a bit…and I’m talking the pelvis kind of grind…if I’m being truthful.

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New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.

Since publishing her first book in 2013, K. has sold over one million copies of her books and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times.

In April, she’ll release The Player, the first in a two-book sports romance series (The Catch, book 2, will be released late June), with many more already outlined and ready to be written.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: http://bit.ly/254MWtI

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NEW RELEASE!! Desperate by AK Evans

Ekko Rose is no stranger to struggle. Even though she’s experienced more than her fair share of hardship, she has dreams she wants to fulfill. But when another stroke of bad luck leaves her homeless, Ekko’s only option is to focus on survival. 

Dominick ‘Dom’ Moore has had his eyes on Ekko ever since he saved her life several months ago. He kept his distance then because she was attached to another man. Now, seeing her living out of her car, Dom resolves to help her get back on her feet.

When Dom approaches Ekko, she wrestles with knowing her rightful place in the world and desperately wanting to latch onto something better.

Just as the pair fall hard for one another, Ekko’s streak of misfortune delivers one more blow. With their relationship thrown into a pit of despair and hopeless desire, Dom must crack the case he’s been trying to solve for weeks. 

Because if he can’t, Ekko might be lost to him forever.

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“You can’t sleep out here tonight.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured me.

“I won’t.”

“What?”

“Ekko, follow me and you can stay at my place as long as you need.”

She shook her head and vehemently refused. “I can’t do that.  You’ve already been generous enough and you don’t even know me.”

I narrowed my eyes a bit before I teased, “I think I can protect myself if you try to harm me.”

She let out a laugh but quickly stopped herself.  “That’s not what I meant.”

I barely heard her words because I was so intrigued by the sound of her laughter.  It was captivating.

“I know,” I confessed.  “I also know that you’ve fallen on some hard times and you need some help.  There’s nothing wrong with that. I can help you.”

“Okay, but I don’t really know you.”

“I rescued you from an attempted abduction and we just had dessert together.  You know I work for a private investigation company and that the local police know who I am because of the work I do.  Do you really think I’d hurt you?”

She shook her head and responded, “No.”

“So you’ll stay with me then?”

“I don’t think I should.” She held firm in her decision.  

“Fine,” I declared.  “Then let me get you a hotel room for a few nights while you get your living arrangements sorted.  There’s no deadline.”

“You would do that?”

There was no denying the surprise in her voice.  

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I grinned at her before I answered honestly, “Because you need help right now and I’ve got the means to give you that help.”

Her lips parted, and my eyes dropped to them.

“What’s it going to be, sugar?”

“You’ve already given me so much,” she argued.  “I can’t accept any more money from you.”

“Looks like you’re staying at my place then,” I noted as I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked an eyebrow.  I couldn’t miss the heat that flashed in her eyes.

A moment later when I thought she was going to give in, she said, “I’ll get myself a hotel room.”

I held my hand out to her car door and said, “Lead the way.”

“What?”

“I’m going to make sure you have a safe, clean place to stay tonight.”

She sighed and got in her car.  Once she started it up, I got in my truck and followed her out of the lot.  Not much later, I pulled in behind her at what had to be the dumpiest, most unsafe motel in the entire city.

I hopped out of the truck, marched up to her door, and opened it.  “Not a chance in hell you’re staying here,” I warned her.

She looked at the motel and back at me.  “Why not?”

“I’m not convinced they even have beds here.  Besides, if you moved out of your boyfriend’s place because you don’t want to be around drugs, then you shouldn’t be staying here.”

“Dom, this is all I can afford,” she croaked.

“Let. Me. Help. You.”

I enunciated each word so she’d understand just how serious I was.  

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you.”

“Yes, I am me.  That’s not really a good reason.”

“I have no business being anywhere near someone like you.”

What the fuck did that mean?

“Someone like me?”

“You’re going to make me say it out loud?” she worried.

Even though I had a feeling I knew what she was getting at, I returned, “Ekko, I have no idea what you are talking about.  If you don’t want to tell me what that means then tell me that you’ll come with me back to my place where I’ll give you a safe, clean, comfortable place to stay for a few days while you get your stuff sorted.”

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

Finally, she gave in.  “Alright, it’s not like my luck could possibly get any worse.  If you kill me, you’ll really just be helping me out of a very difficult situation.”

I didn’t like hearing her say that.  

“Nobody is killing you,” I asserted.

“I’m just saying…it wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened.”

A.K. Evans is a married mother of two boys residing in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania. After graduating from Lafayette College in 2004 with two degrees (one in English and one in Economics & Business), she pursued a career in the insurance and financial services industry. Not long after, Evans realized the career was not for her. She went on to manage her husband’s performance automotive business and drive the shop race cars for the next thirteen years. While the business afforded her freedoms she wouldn’t necessarily have had in a typical 9-5 job, after eleven years she was no longer receiving personal fulfillment from her chosen career path. Following many discussions, lots of thought, and tons of encouragement, Andrea decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer.

Between her day job, writing, and homeschooling her two boys, Evans is left with very little free time. When she finds scraps of spare time, she enjoys reading, doing yoga, watching NY Rangers hockey, dancing, and vacationing with her family. Andrea, her husband, and her children are currently working on taking road trips to visit all 50 states (though, Alaska and Hawaii might require flights).

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P.S. I Dare You by Winter Renshaw ~ Sarah A’s Review

Dear Ms. Keane,

Before this ridiculous little arrangement commences, I’d like to make myself indubitably clear: I know who you are, I know that my father hired you, I know why my father hired you, and lastly, your services aren’t needed.

In fact, I want no part of my father’s billion-dollar empire, and him “gifting” me with one of the “best concierges in the county” won’t change that. He’s wasting his money. You’re wasting your time.

However, seeing as how you foolishly signed an ironclad contract with an Act of God clause and my father has strong-armed me into taking this position, it appears as though we’re stuck together—at least until your contract is up next month.

That said, our time together at WellesTech should be relatively painless but please don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t notice when that pretty little stare lingers a little too long or the way your breath catches when our hands graze. You’re fascinated by me and it kills you because you can hardly stand to be in the same room as me.

Think I’m a problem worth solving? An impossible riddle worth figuring out? By all means, go ahead and try. Solve for X. Crack the code. It might even be fun (but only for me, not you).

V/r,

Calder Welles, II

P.S. I dare you.

Amazon

While I did enjoy P.S. I Dare You; it didn’t quite stand up to the other books in this series. It was an entertaining, quick little read; I loved Aerin and Calder, and how they complemented one another.

I loved the concept of this book. I’m a little bit of a sucker for office romances, and the situation these two were manipulated into made it all the more intriguing. Add the less than idyllic childhoods – and the effect those childhoods had on Aerin and Calder’s personalities – and P.S. I Dare You was bursting with dysfunction. Aerin and Calder served as a great balance for one another, both in highlighting each other’s strengths and helping to overcome some of their weaknesses.

Aerin and Calder both had a lot of baggage they were dragging around with no idea how to let it go. Watching them, each learn to let go of the pain and find new ways to deal with the lack of true parental concern in their youths, was heartwarming. I loved how much they gave to one another simply by being who they were and allowing the other to have a safe, judgment-free place to fall apart when they needed it.

P.S. I Dare You is the third book in Winter Renshaw’s P.S. series. These books are standalones, with minor character overlap. They do not need to be read in order, nor does the series need to be read in its entirety. P.S. I Dare You is written in dual first-person perspective, narrated by Aerin and Calder.

My biggest wish for the novel is I would have liked to have seen more of the emotional connection between the character. It seemed like Aerin and Calder were either fighting or connecting physically, with little time spent working on the part of their relationship that would make it last. I felt like the book could have been a little longer and explored that dynamic more and still delivered a sweet enemies-to-lovers romance.

That was … interesting.
I have to admit, I expected her to throw herself at me today. I expected tension so ripe, we’d have no choice but to act on it—especially since we went all of Friday without so much as exchanging a single word thanks to my father hijacking my schedule. But what I got was a girl who showed up, did exactly what I told her to do, and kept her hands to herself.
I’m not used to this—girls with self-restraint.
But it’s for the best.
Over the course of the past week, my life has become unrecognizable. Throwing a few more complications into the mix won’t help anything. And besides, if I fuck my assistant, that makes me no better than the man whose shoes I’m being forced to fill.
I’m better than that.
She’s better than that.
And I meant what I said—I don’t fuck girls I have to see every day.
“Closing up?” the security guard asks, looking up from his Spiderman comic.
I nod, heading back to my father’s office to grab summaries and lock the door. Five minutes later, I hit the pavement, opting to take the long way home. I haven’t been able to run all week and my muscles are screaming from too much sitting. My body wasn’t designed to be this sedentary.
Popping into a little Eastern medicine shop off Houston, I grab this miracle balm one of my Olympic skier friends told me about. I don’t know what the hell is in it, I just know it smells like nothing and works like magic the instant I rub it into my skin.
I leave the shop and hook a left, passing a trendy Japanese eatery across the street called Kaio, where their waitlist spans months because apparently pancakes shaped like sushi is the next hot thing. A small outdoor dining area is filled with patrons, and the benches outside hold even more, all of them patiently waiting, noses buried in their phones.
Crossing the street, I glance back at the restaurant once more when something catches my eye. Seated at a table for two on the patio is Aerin Keane and an exceptionally handsome gentleman in green scrubs.
I watch them long enough to see him smile, her laugh.
She reaches across the table and bats at his hand.
He rolls his eyes.
They look like they’ve known each other forever, completely comfortable in each other’s presence. Her shoulders are relaxed, his legs crossed.
So that’s why she was so adamant about us not sleeping together again—she has a boyfriend.
I smirk, rounding the corner and getting the hell away before I start to care again, only ten steps later, I’m in the presence of an overly excitable blonde with flailing arms running in my direction.
“Oh my God! Calder? Calder Welles, is that you?” Thessaly Thomas, a socialite-turned-reality-TV-star I foolishly stuck my dick into in my early twenties, practically wraps her entire body around me, nearly letting her mint green Birkin fall to the ground in the process. “I can’t believe it’s you! How are you? Ugh. You look so good. It isn’t fair. I swear you look even better than when we were dating and that’s saying a lot because …”
Dating?
We went on five dates.
I’d hardly call that dating.
And the only reason I knew it was five was because she went all out for our “one-month anniversary,” hiring some C-list band to give us a private concert on the rooftop of her father’s pool club in the Meatpacking District.
“What are you up to these days?” she asks, hand on her hip and smile on her face. Her forehead is smooth, glass-like. And her lips are much larger than I remember. “What’s new?”
She asks like it’s any of her business, like she cares. But I see that thirsty look in her eyes. Rejection does something to you. It makes you want the things you shouldn’t have, the things you can’t have.
“You’re looking good. CrossFit?” She smooths a palm down my arm.
Thessaly knows she can’t have me, and God, does she still want me even after all these years.
“I was just telling Raya—you remember Raya, right? About how you took me skiing in Vermont for our third date. Do you still have your plane?” she asks. “A Cessna, was it?”
Her phone chimes twice, and she lifts a finger before reading a quick text and typing back an even quicker response.
“Sorry about that.” She peers up at me through fake lashes the color of midnight, and she’s still wearing that same dopey grin. “I can’t believe I ran into you on Houston of all places. Do you live around here now? I’m still on Lexington.”
She rolls her eyes, like she’s ashamed to live in a two-thousand-square foot classic six bought and paid for by her parents the day she graduated from NYU.
Thessaly is still talking, though I’ve tuned her out. Something about a mutual friend who thought they saw me in Paris over the summer. It’s kind of crazy, but all my mind can think about in this moment is Aerin smiling with that fucking Dr. McDreamy-looking tool. Her hand on his. Her eyes lit. Her body at ease.
God, she’s so easy to be around—even if she hates me with every fiber of her classy little being.
She isn’t like Thessaly or the other women that tend to hurl themselves at me. Those women have desperation in their eyes, insecurity in their smiles, and diffidence in their demeanors.
They just want me to like them.
Aerin doesn’t.
And I’d be lying to myself if I said that didn’t make me feel some kind of way.
“We should do coffee or something sometime,” Thessaly says, her hand swatting at my arm. It’s like she needs every excuse she can get to touch me. “What are you doing right now? You have plans?”
“Yeah, today’s not good for me.”
She pouts her Kylie Jenner lips. “Your number still the same?”
Indeed. “Yeah.”
Her pout transforms and she rises on her toes. “Great. I’ll text you and we can figure something out. It was great running into you, Calder. Glad you’re doing well.”
How would she know? I couldn’t get a word in.
Thessaly runs her hand along my arm one more time before readjusting her Birkin over her left forearm and giving me one of those cutesy girl waves complete with a shoulder shrug.
I wave back before continuing on my way.
Good lord, that was painful.
Almost as painful as seeing Aerin on a date.

Amazon

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Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.

And if you’d like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here —> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j

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Havoc by Kindle Alexander ~ COVER REVEAL

Keyes Dixon’s life is challenging enough as a full patch member of the Disciples of Havoc Motorcycle Club but being a gay biker leaves him traveling down one tough road. With an abusive past and his vow to the club cementing his future, he doesn’t believe in love and steers clear of commitment. But a midnight ride leads to a chance meeting with a sexy pretty-boy in a wicked hot sports car that has him going down quicker than a Harley on ice.

Cocky Assistant District Attorney Alec Pierce lives in the shadow of his politically connected family. A life of privilege doesn’t equal a life of love, a fact made obvious at every family gathering. Driven yet lonely, Alec yields to his family’s demands for his career path, hoping for the acceptance he craves. Until he meets a gorgeous biker who tips the scales in the favor of truth…and he can no longer live a lie.

Can two men from completely different worlds…and sides of the law…find common ground, or will all their desires only wreak Havoc?

TITLE: Havoc
AUTHOR: Kindle Alexander
GENRE: M/M MC Romance
RELEASE DATE: November 27, 2018
COVER DESIGN:
 Reese Dante

The screen illuminated Alec’s face, and even though Keyes wasn’t religious, he swore he heard the angels sing in that moment… The sight stole Keyes’s breath. He came to a stop directly in front of the tempting driver. Resting both hands on his hips, he got lost just looking at this beautiful man. Keyes opened his mouth to speak. He could absolutely take care of this problem, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he stayed mesmerized by the most gorgeous guy he’d ever seen.

“I have roadside assistance. I just have to remember which app to use.”

Keyes almost lost his bad boy composure when Alec distractedly glanced up from his phone and winked at him. Hold it together, Key. He finally got his head to stop spinning and all the cheesy porn music to quit playing on continuous loop in the background. Alec probably just had a twitch. Why would the guy be flirting with him? On the off chance Alec happened to be gay, Keyes obviously wasn’t his type if the passenger were anything to go by. There was nothing refined or delicate about Key.

Even with the neurons misfiring in Keyes’s brain, he managed to clear his throat and lower his gaze to the grass to help find some fucking perspective. “Where you headed?” Wait. That wasn’t the statement he’d planned to make.

“I live in McKinney. He lives in the Uptown area of Dallas,” Alec answered, reading the screen as he cocked his head toward his putout passenger.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” Keyes asked. McKinney was a long way from the current location and as different as two places could possibly be.

Alec gave a humorless laugh while briefly lifting his gaze from the screen. Curious light eyes pinned Keyes in place. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen eyes that color. Keyes’s mouth watered, and his cock plumped, homing in on exactly what it wanted. “Google Maps said this was a detour. Hang on.” Alec lifted the phone to his ear. Keyes could hear a faint sound of a voice on the other end. “I’m on some side road in maybe South Dallas, perhaps even North Ellis County. Can you find my location?”

“Listen, I can take care of this. I own a tire shop that’s about fifteen minutes from here.” For the first time since the car had spun off the road, Alec truly looked at him. Their gazes connected for one maybe two heartbeats before Alec’s brow wrinkled and his eyes lowered. Keyes felt the weight of Alec’s stare as his eyes blatantly roamed the length of his body. Not only did his dick stand at attention but the damn thing attempted to parade down Main Street waving a rainbow-colored flag. A range of expressions crossed Alec’s handsome face until the hand holding the phone lowered and those extraordinary eyes were back on his. Had the guy noticed the impromptu party taking place in his pants? Keyes shifted his weight to his other foot.

“I’m Alec Pierce.”

Best Selling Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica in both the male/male and male/female genres. It’s always a surprise to see what’s coming next!

I live in the suburbs of Dallas where it’s true, the only thing bigger than an over active imagination, may be women’s hair!

Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life – I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations – regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal… I don’t want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I’m going to tell you about Kindle.

I tragically lost my sixteen-year-old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I’ll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died – weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn’t have to be alone.

That time in my life was terrible. It’s everything you think it would be times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.

Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness – it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. It never happened.

Through the course of that crippling event, I was lucky enough to begin to write with a dear friend in the fan fiction world of Facebook. She got me through those dark days with her unwavering support and friendship. There wasn’t a time she wasn’t there for me. Sometimes together and sometimes by myself, we built a world where Kindle lives and stands for peace, love, and harmony. It’s its own kind of support group. I know without question I wouldn’t be here today without her.

Find out more by visiting http://www.kindlealexander.com or email me at kindle@kindlealexander.com

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NEW RELEASE!! P.S. I Dare You by Winter Renshaw

Dear Ms. Keane,

Before this ridiculous little arrangement commences, I’d like to make myself indubitably clear: I know who you are, I know that my father hired you, I know why my father hired you, and lastly, your services aren’t needed.

In fact, I want no part of my father’s billion-dollar empire, and him “gifting” me with one of the “best concierges in the county” won’t change that. He’s wasting his money. You’re wasting your time.

However, seeing as how you foolishly signed an ironclad contract with an Act of God clause and my father has strong-armed me into taking this position, it appears as though we’re stuck together—at least until your contract is up next month.

That said, our time together at WellesTech should be relatively painless but please don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t notice when that pretty little stare lingers a little too long or the way your breath catches when our hands graze. You’re fascinated by me and it kills you because you can hardly stand to be in the same room as me.

Think I’m a problem worth solving? An impossible riddle worth figuring out? By all means, go ahead and try. Solve for X. Crack the code. It might even be fun (but only for me, not you).

V/r,

Calder Welles, II

P.S. I dare you.

Amazon

What.
The fuck.
Was that?
She’s the woman my father hired? The girl who spilled her coffee down her shirt after bumping into me in the hall?
That’s fucking golden. I can’t even be mad right now.
It makes perfect sense.
He brought on an assistant who happens to have all of the qualities he thinks I lack. She’s civil, tactful, punctual, classy as fuck.
I bet he thinks she’s going to be a good influence on me, like she can fucking domesticate me and turn me into a Corporate American civil servant.
Poor thing. She doesn’t realize she stepped inside the lion’s ring with nothing but a flimsy whip and a barstool. I’m not that easily tamed.
Regardless, I don’t know her name, but already I’m impressed. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself. I like that. If she’d given me a chance to explain, I’d have told her that’s what I meant when I said she was exactly my type.
I’m not a moron. I know she didn’t think I was flirting with her. I know she didn’t come back over because she wanted me. Quite the opposite. I saw the contention in that caramel-brown gaze of hers.
I also sensed a very raw, very real mutual attraction brewing—and that’s why I called it like it was and referred to her as a snack.
It was for the best.
I didn’t come here tonight to get laid. I’ve got bigger, more important things on my mind.
I watch the pretty little brunette with the black sweater grab her bag from her booth and storm out of the bar, her blonde friend in tow, and I toss back the rest of my Hennessy in one swallow.
Slapping some cash on the table, I take off and head back home, this time opting to walk.
Fresh air.
Deep thoughts.
A strong drink coursing through my veins.
If I’m lucky, these things plus a good night’s sleep will work together, helping me come to terms with what I’ve got to do in the morning.
Making my way through a crosswalk, I pass one of those sickeningly sweet couples walking hand-in-hand with that new-in-love look in their shiny eyes.
That kind of thing has never appealed to me, and if I’m being honest, a long-term relationship baked in exclusivity seems like a prison sentence. Who the hell wants someone they have to report to? Someone who has to know where they are at all times? Someone who expects them to be there when they call? Someone who has access to every aspect of their life?
It’s Bridgeforth Academy all over again, only the relationship version.
Pass.

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Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.

And if you’d like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here —> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j

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NOW LIVE!! Temptation by Micalea Smeltzer ~ Sarah A’s Review

temp·ta·tion
a desire to do something, especially something wrong or unwise.

After the death of my boyfriend, my whole world is tossed upside down. I lose not only him but my home and, suddenly, nothing is the same.

Then I meet him.

Siva.

My savior.

He’s dark and brooding, the complete opposite of everything I’ve ever known. Somehow, though, I’m able to see the light in him that no one else can. He tempts me ever closer, my heart reaching out to him, even while my mind shouts out me to stay away.

That it’s too soon.

That it’s wrong.

But when temptation becomes too strong, who am I to resist?

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A few years ago I went on a Micalea Smeltzer reading-spree, and I fell in love with her work, then I’m not sure what happened, but she fell off my radar – probably Facebook logarithms kept her off my newsfeed, and I was inundated with other stuff.  After reading Temp·ta·tion, I’m kicking myself for not being more proactive and searching out her new releases before now.  I was utterly engrossed in Sloane and Siva’s story from the beginning, and I loved every moment of their journey.

Both Sloane and Siva traveled a rough and pothole-filled road to find their happiness.  There were moments that were gut-wrenching, some that were heartbreaking, and others that were beautifully poignant and heartwarming.  Temp·ta·tion ran me through the complete spectrum of human emotion and left me feeling fulfilled and beatific when I was finished.

Sloane and Siva both grew and healed so much throughout Temp·ta·tion.  They both learned who they were, what place their pasts should play in their presents, and, more than anything, they learned how to forgive themselves and find love and happiness.  It was all the more touching that they were able to discover those things in the wake of all the loss and trauma they’d experienced in their lives.

There were a few things I wish were a little different in this book, but nothing that took away from the overall experience of the story.  Sometimes the timeline was a bit nebulous, and I would have liked it to have been tightened up a little.  There was also one scene not told in the same voice as the rest of the novel that felt unnecessary and took away some of the intrigue of the climax; I wish I hadn’t read it and had been able to rely on the other foreshadowing to anticipate what was in store for Siva and Sloane.

Micalea Smeltzer amazes me, though I only know surface details of her struggles, the fact that she continues to press on and produce this caliber of work says a lot about her abilities and work ethic.  Her writing is emotional and engrossing; I found myself feeling exactly what her characters were experiencing time and again as I was reading.  I have promised myself I’ll not let myself go years without reading her work and plan to keep Ms. Smeltzer on my must read list.

PROLOGUE

I always knew death would touch my life at some point.

It’s inevitable, really.

We all die after all.

I guess I never expected it to be the man I loved—or if it was, I expected us to be old and gray in our beds.

But life had other plans, and now Devak is gone, and I’m … I’m numb.

I wiggle around on the hard pew, trying to get more comfortable. It doesn’t work.

The man at the podium drones on and on.

About nothing.

About everything.

About life.

About death.

Devak wouldn’t have liked this. He was a simple man. He wouldn’t appreciate so much fussing over him, and he definitely wouldn’t appreciate his step-mother blubbering her eyes out in the front pew.

His father, Rajas, pats his wife’s back in comfort.

It takes all my energy not to roll my eyes.

Although, I guess I’m bitter since they stuck me in the back like I’m unimportant. Since Devak and I weren’t married, Rajas and his wife, Lila, consider me null and void now. They never liked me. They thought me to only be a thieving American, after his money and name. They couldn’t be more wrong. I truly love Devak. Loved. I loved him. Past tense. I nearly choked. It didn’t seem right to be thinking of him in the past tense.

The man speaking finishes and everyone stands.

Everyone except me, that is. My legs feel like they weigh five-hundred pounds.

Probably five-hundred pounds of tears.

I haven’t cried, not once, since I got the news Devak was killed in the car accident. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I will the tears to come now, as Lila and Rajas take one last look at Devak, but nothing happens.

All that exists is the numbness.

Rajas looks sadly at his youngest and favorite son, gone from this world too soon. Dev has—had—an older brother, but I’ve never met him. I’ve never even seen a photo of him. He’s something of a pariah.

Although, if Rajas were my father maybe I’d be the same way. The man takes the word overbearing to another level.

Though, I never really understood why Dev didn’t talk about his brother.

He didn’t talk about his mother much either except to say she left shortly after his brother stopped coming around.

I look around the people still gathered in the church, and no one looks like they could be his mother or brother.

They probably don’t even know Dev’s gone, and it makes me sad. They deserve to know, though I’m sure Rajas would disagree.

Several people eye me, and I see Rajas say something to one of them. I’m sure it isn’t anything nice. If he’d ever actually bothered to get to know me he would’ve seen how much I loved his son.

They could think what they wanted, though, since I knew my love for him was true.

I wasn’t in the habit of caring what people thought of me. I learned a long time ago the opinion of others was useless.

The church emptied, and I was left alone with a somber Rajas and Lila, both of them looking at me like I was a speck of dirt they wanted to wipe off their designer shoes.

Rajas is tall and handsome like Devak.  He’s full Indian with dark caramel skin and inky black hair. His eyes are as dark as his hair, and his mouth is almost always set in a frown. He has a regal air about him, like royalty, though he’s not.

Lila has pale skin, light blond hair, and lifeless blue eyes. She’s the complete opposite of his first wife, Isla. I’d only ever seen a picture of the woman, but she was beautiful, with black hair, olive skin, and violet colored eyes.

“Sloane,” Rajas says sternly.

“Sir,” I address him. I’m not allowed to call him Rajas, or even Mr. Kapur.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes raking over me where I sit, picking apart my black dress and shoes I’m sure.

“Sitting,” I say sarcastically, since it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.

I’m not normally so short with him, since I usually want to impress him, but with Devak gone I can’t bring myself to care. What’s the point anymore?

He starts to smile but it quickly disappears when he catches himself. He clears his throat. “Aren’t you leaving?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Not yet. I’m not ready to leave,” I answer honestly. I need another moment with Dev. This is my last chance with him.

Lila stands slightly behind her husband, peering over his shoulder at me.

Rajas clears his throat. “Don’t be too long.”

I nod as he straightens his suit jacket.

“I won’t be much longer.”

Stiffly, he takes Lila’s hand and starts for the doors. I watch them leave. Rajas pauses at the door and looks back for one last look at his son. He looks heartbroken, and while he might be a raging asshole to me, I think he truly loved his son—well, at least the one.

He shakes his head and places his hand on Lila’s waist, ushering her out the door.

The heavy doors bang closed and I’m finally alone with Dev.

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands.

One tear.

All I ask is for one tear.

One tear for the man I love.

I get nothing.

“Oh, Dev,” I whisper into the empty church. “Why has this happened?”

Of course no one answers.

Time passes slowly as I sit, and still no tears come even as I beg—beg to feel something besides this emptiness now residing in my chest.

The doors behind me open, and I jump to a standing position, thinking it’s Rajas come to tell me my time is up.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” I stammer, my head bowed as I grab my coat. “I was going.”

“Oh?” responds a voice I don’t recognize but feels entirely familiar at the same time.

“What the—?” My head shoots up and my eyes connect with violet ones. I nearly choke on my tongue because the guy is gorgeous.

He narrows his eyes on me, his two dark brows drawing together. He’s handsome, it’s undeniable. His black hair is brushed away from his face and his skin is a beautiful honey color, and I wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. His face is chiseled, with full lips, and a dimple in his chin. He’s tall, easily six-feet, but I’d say taller, and lean but still well built so it’s clear he works out. His dress shirt clings to his chest and his gray dress pants hang delectably on his hips.

And I’m checking out a guy at my boyfriend’s funeral. Just fucking great.

The man stalks toward me slowly, his brows still drawn together, giving him an angry look. Each step is slow and deliberate like he’s stalking a frightened deer.

I probably do look like a deer caught in headlights.

“You are?” he asks in a British accent.

My hands wring together. His intensity has me unnerved. “Sloane,” I reply.

Sloane,” he repeats, testing out my name on my tongue. He makes a face, and I’m not sure he likes the flavor. His unusual violet eyes narrow on me. “What are you doing here?”

I swallow thickly. “I’m attending my boyfriend’s funeral.”

He looks around at the empty room and then back at me, as if to make a point.

I clear my throat. “Everyone … uh … left.”

“But not you?” He stares at me like I’m some fascinating exotic bird he’s just discovered. I have news for him—I’m not interesting.

I look to the floor, my shoes, anything but his inquisitive violet eyes that seem to see too much. “They don’t like me,” I finally respond. “I wanted a moment alone.”

His laugh fills the air, and it surprises me. I get the impression this isn’t a man who laughs a lot. “We have that in common, Sloane.”

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“They don’t like me either,” he whispers conspiratorially, like he’s letting me in on some sort of secret.

“Why?” I ask, my eyes roaming over him. He looks familiar, so much like Dev, but I know I’ve never met him before.

He shrugs. “Because I dare to go against the grain. I find rules are meant for breaking.”

“Who are you?” I finally ask, in awe of him.

I feel like he’s put a spell on me or something.

“Siva,” he answers.

My eyes narrow in thought. I know his name—but how?

My mouth pops open as clarity hits me.

Oh.

Siva … as in Siva Kapur.

Dev’s brother is back.

Hi. I’m Micalea. Ma-call-e-uh. Weird name, I know.  My mom must’ve known I was going to be odd even in the womb. I’ve written a lot of books. Like a lot. Don’t ask me how many, I don’t remember at this point. I have an unhealthy addiction to Diet Coke but I can’t seem to break the habit. I listen to way too much music and hedgehogs have taken over my life.

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Contact Stephanie with SBR Media for any foreign or audio rights questions:  stephanie@sbrmedia.com

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Fragments of Ash by Katy Regnery ~ RELEASE BOOST

From New York Times bestselling author Katy Regnery comes a dark and twisted retelling of the beloved fairytale, Cinderella!

My name is Ashley Ellis…

I was thirteen years old when my mother – retired supermodel, Tig – married Mosier Răumann, who was twice her age and the head of the Răumann crime family.

When I turned eighteen, my mother mysteriously died. Only then did I discover the dark plans my stepfather had in store for me all along; the debauched “work” he expected me to do.

With the help of my godfather, Gus, I have escaped from Mosier’s clutches, but his twin sons and henchmen have been tasked with hunting me down. And they will stop at nothing to return my virgin body to their father

…dead or alive.

** Contemporary Romance. Due to profanity and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.**

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Fragments of Ash is part of the ~a modern fairytale~ collection: contemporary, standalone romances inspired by beloved fairy tales.

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Instead of going inside, I walk around the house, to the backyard, to see if I can help bring in any dirty dishes, but the picnic table is empty. All traces of our dinner party have already been cleaned up by the Ducharmes siblings.
I look up at the midnight sky, at the dozens and dozens of stars, and I wonder if Gus is right. What he says feels right, but I feel very young and very small as I stare up at the universe. It’s not wrong to give yourself over to loving if the chance arises.
“We get amazing night skies up here.”
I look over my shoulder and find Julian, tall, barefoot, and beautiful, walking toward me.
“Yes, you do,” I answer, giving him a shy and tentative smile before I turn my attention back upward.
My skin prickles with awareness. My lips tingle, remembering the insistent pressure of his. And elsewhere in my body, I clench hard, willing those deep-set tremors not to start up again right now. I want to believe what Gus has told me—that liking and wanting a man isn’t wrong—but it’s new to me, and I need a little time to reconcile my desire and conscience together.
“When I lived in DC, it was what I missed the most, besides Noelle. More than the cheese. More than the beer. More than the skiing.” He stops, standing beside me, staring up at the firmament. “I missed Vermont’s night skies. And the millions of stars.”
“I can see why,” I say. “When I lived in LA, I never saw stars.” I giggle. “I mean, I saw the people kind, but not the sky kind.”
“Who’s the most famous person you ever met?”
“Hmm. Maybe . . . Gigi Hadid . . . or Bella? Hmm . . . Or Cara Delevingne? Kate Moss mentored my m—Tig for a while, um, and she knew Gisele, of course. Also—”
“Wait a second! Gisele? Did you ever meet Tom Brady?” he asks, his voice eager.
“Let me guess.” I glance at his face. “Patriots fan?”
“The biggest.”
“Tig went to their wedding, but I never met him. Sorry,” I say, giggling as he lays a hand over his heart and pretends to cry. “Speaking of the rich and famous, Noelle tells me you met the vice president while you worked in Washington.”
“She did?” His teasing expression disappears quickly as he straightens, dropping his hand. “Uh, yeah. Long time ago.”
“Not so long,” I say.
“Yeah, well . . . I guess it just feels like a while ago.” I wait for him to say more, hoping to learn why he left Washington so abruptly, but he stretches his arms over his head and yawns. “I’m tired. You must be exhausted.”
“At school I was on the dining hall rotation, which meant cooking for one hundred souls regularly. Tonight was a breeze.”
“Your soup was amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“The steak too.”
“Thank you again.”
“And the tart.”
“That was your sister. Let her know you thought so.”
“And the kiss.”
“Thank—” I’m grinning at him, but my eyes widen at his unexpected compliment, and I immediately look back up at the sky. It’s dark out so he can’t see my blush.
His chuckle is soft and low beside me, and maybe I’m wicked for not feeling more guilty, but I feel my smile grow as I trace Orion’s belt. I don’t dare look at him, but I feel him step closer to me, the warmth of his chest radiating against my back. If I moved slightly, one step even, his body would be flush against mine, and the shiver down my arms has nothing to do with the night chill. I want him to touch me, but I know he won’t.
As though he can read my mind, he whispers, close to my ear, “Not unless you ask.”
I close my eyes and say a prayer for strength and virtue, which, sadly, works, because the next thing I hear is his footsteps receding.
“Good night, sweet Ashley,” he says to my back, his voice a low rumble.
My eyes open slowly to the glittering heavens.
“Good night, sweet prince,” I whisper to Julian’s stars.

The Vixen and the Vet (Beauty & the Beast) – available now
Never Let You Go (Hansel & Gretel) – available now
Ginger’s Heart (Little Red Riding Hood) – available now
Dark Sexy Knight (Camelot) – available now
Don’t Speak (The Little Mermaid) – available now
Sheer Heaven (Rapunzel) – available now
Fragments of Ash (Cinderella) – coming October 1, 2018
Swan Song (The Ugly Duckling) – coming soon

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katy-regnery

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnery started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract, and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.

Forty books later, Katy claims authorship of the multi-titled New York Times and USA Today bestselling Blueberry Lane Series, which follows the English, Winslow, Rousseau, Story, and Ambler families of Philadelphia; the six-book, bestselling ~a modern fairytale~ series; and several other stand-alone novels and novellas, including the critically-acclaimed, 2018 RITA© nominated, USA Today bestselling contemporary romance, Unloved, a love story.

Katy’s first modern fairytale romance, The Vixen and the Vet, was nominated for a RITA® in 2015 and won the 2015 Kindle Book Award for romance. Katy’s boxed set, The English Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, hit the USA Today bestseller list in 2015, and her Christmas story, Marrying Mr. English, appeared on the list a week later. In May 2016, Katy’s Blueberry Lane collection, The Winslow Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, became a New York Times e-book bestseller.

Katy’s books are available in English, French, German, Italian, Portuguese and Turkish.

Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, two dogs, and one Blue Tonkinese kitten create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.

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Dream by Carly Phillips ~ Excerpt Reveal

Dream an all-new emotional and romantic standalone from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Carly Phillips is coming October 16th!

She was his best friend, his first love. And she broke his heart. Now she’s back. Will they find a second chance?

As a little girl, Andrea Harmon wanted to marry a prince, and Kyle Davenport hoped it would be him. But he never told her how he felt, and lost her as a result. Because sometimes the bad guy gets the girl. And Kyle left town to get over her.

Andi made the wrong choice years ago, choosing the bad boy over the best friend she trusted and she paid for it every day since.

Coming face to face with his former best friend was bound to happen once he moved back to Rosewood Bay, but for Kyle, becoming her son’s new teacher is a painful reminder of what they never had. But this time around, Kyle is determined to change their ending. Prince Charming is determined to break down her walls.

Except that no happily-ever-after is won without a fight—and her ex-husband doesn’t like to lose.

***  PREORDER NOW ~ RELEASES OCTOBER 16  ***
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“I didn’t mean to drag you away from Kimberly. You two seemed to be hitting it off.”

He didn’t pull his hand away from her face, struck by the tinge of something in her voice. Jealousy? And if so, why did it please him that she cared?

“Kimberly was like a leech who wouldn’t let go. She even used her sick brother’s story to hang on to me. I wasn’t doing anything more than offering sympathy,” he said, opting for the truth.

Andi blinked, unmistakable relief in her pretty brown eyes. “Really?”

“Did it bother you when you thought I was into her?” he heard himself asking, knowing he hadn’t planned to go down this road, but the attraction between them was a real, tangible thing.

His fingers itched to run through her thick, wavy hair, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from her glossed lips as she ran her tongue nervously over them. Not to mention the energy it took not to look down at her full breasts beneath the jersey.

“Would it upset you if I said it did? That watching you with her stirred up feelings that took me by surprise?”

“I shouldn’t want you, Andi. You hurt me. Took a fucking knife to my heart. But that was in the past. And what’s going on now between us is the present.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the past alive despite them both wanting to put it behind them. But everything inside him was pulled toward her now, drawn to her fragile strength and beauty.

He dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers. Warm and giving, her soft lips moved beneath his. His hand slid around her jaw, tilting her head, giving him better access as his tongue delved into her mouth and tangled with hers. Finally, finally, finally, finally. His heart beat out the word in rapid rhythm, a long-held desire coming true as her kiss turned him inside out.

He explored the deep recesses of her mouth, tasting her essence, aware of his body’s reaction, the swell of his cock behind his jeans, the spike in adrenaline, the racing of his pulse.

Despite the pain, the anger, the hurt, this was the girl of his dreams and she was in his arms, eagerly accepting his kiss. He slid his hand into her hair, grasping the thick strands between his fingers and tugging as the kiss turned hotter and he backed her against the vanity, his waist flush against hers, his hard erection cradled between her thighs. His cock throbbed with unappeased need, desire flowing between them.

Until a hard knock sounded on the door, startling them into breaking apart. She looked at him, wide-eyed, the surprise etched in her face as strong as the shock rippling through him.

“Be right out,” he called to the person on the other side of the door.

He glanced at Andi, her face now flushed a bright red. “There’s no way to avoid walking out together, is there?” she asked.

“Whether you go first or last, whoever it is heard my voice.” Her blush deepened.

“Well, then here’s to giving them something more to talk about.”

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Carly Phillips is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels, including the Indie published, Dare to Love Series. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers.

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NOW AVAILABLE!! Fragments of Ash by Katy Regnery ~ Sarah A’s Review

From New York Times bestselling author Katy Regnery comes a dark and twisted retelling of the beloved fairytale, Cinderella!

My name is Ashley Ellis…

I was thirteen years old when my mother – retired supermodel, Tig – married Mosier Răumann, who was twice her age and the head of the Răumann crime family.

When I turned eighteen, my mother mysteriously died. Only then did I discover the dark plans my stepfather had in store for me all along; the debauched “work” he expected me to do.

With the help of my godfather, Gus, I have escaped from Mosier’s clutches, but his twin sons and henchmen have been tasked with hunting me down. And they will stop at nothing to return my virgin body to their father

…dead or alive.

** Contemporary Romance. Due to profanity and very strong sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.**

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Fragments of Ash is part of the ~a modern fairytale~ collection: contemporary, standalone romances inspired by beloved fairy tales.

Amazon US | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | WEBSITE

Fragments of Ash may have just replaced The Vixen and the Vet as my favorite of Katy Regnery’s Modern Fairytales.  It was superb and emotional, sweet and a little sultry, with dark themes and beautiful characters.  While Cinderella has never been my favorite fairytale, this is my favorite retelling of any fairytale, ever.

Ashley’s life made the Cinderella we all know and love seem like she was living the dream.  Ashley had spent the entirety of her life experiencing the worst parts of humanity, yet still seemed to see and hope for the best in people.  She was so pure and kind; it was painful as we slowly understood the type of life she’d been exposed to.  Her strength was quiet, but it was fierce, and I admired how well she carried the burden she’d been forced to bear.

At first, I wasn’t sure about the idea of an evil stepfather, but I was quickly proved wrong when I realized how much more terrifying that change could be.  I loved how intense and horrific Ms. Regnery made Ashley’s situation.  It was gut-wrenching and heartbreaking in one fell swoop.  One of my very favorite aspects of Fragments of Ash was the way Ashley connected with her mother, it was unique and compelling, and really let both Ashley and me, as a reader, understand the struggles of a woman who otherwise seemed completely disconnected and unforgivable.

Fragments of Ash is the seventh book in Katy Regnery’s Modern Fairytale series.  These books are all complete standalones, the only thread connecting them is that they are retellings of classic fairytales.  Fragments of Ash is written in dual first-person perspective, narrated by Ashley and Julian.

Katy Regnery is a versatile author, and I have loved every type of story I’ve read by her.  She knows how to make her readers connect with her characters and care for them.   Her plots always feel fresh and interesting, and she knows how to keep her storylines well-paced and compelling.  I always look forward to her new releases and know I will be a longtime reader of her work.

Sitting in an old, broken-in wicker chair that looks out at the barn and meadow, I place my food on the table beside me and bow my head in prayer.
“Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
When I look up, I see the barn door slam shut and find Bruno standing across the gravel driveway, watching me. He makes a baying sound, then crosses toward me, the pitter-patter of his paws on the gravel making me grin.
“Good morning, sweet boy,” I say, as he approaches. “Are you coming to visit me?”
He pads up the three back porch stairs to my chair, sits at my bare feet, and looks up at me expectantly.
“Are you hungry, baby?”
As if he can understand my words, he darts a glance to my eggs and licks his lips.
“I’m not sure I’m allowed to feed you,” I tell him.
Rowr. Rowr,” he rumbles, looking at my eggs again.
“Hm. Okay. How about I have one and you have one?”
I lower my plate and slide one egg off the side and onto the porch floor. Before it hits the ground, it’s gone.
“Whoa!”
He looks surprised, then sits down genteelly, staring up at me like I’ve hung the moon. I giggle at his hopeful expression.
“More? Doesn’t your master feed you?”
I pick up my fork and try to avoid his eyes as I cut a small piece of egg then spear it with the tines. But I can’t avoid the small movements of his head, which track my every movement.
“Still hungry?”
He whines hopefully, his amber tail swinging back and forth on the porch floor like a duster.
“Oh, fine!” I say, placing the plate on the floor with another giggle. “You win.”
He leans down, gobbling up my second egg, and I make a mental note to change my grocery order from one dozen eggs to two.
“He’s taking advantage of you.”
Julian is standing halfway between the barn and the house, hands on his hips and a difficult-to-read expression on his face. Annoyed? Amused? Hmm. I’m not sure.
“Did you let him eat your whole breakfast?” he asks.
“Wh-what? No! We just . . . I was just sharing . . .”
“. . . your whole breakfast,” he finishes for me matter-of-factly.
He whistles—a short, high-pitched sound—and Bruno immediately trots down the porch steps and sits down in the gravel next to his owner.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for my orange like I’m trying to even the score. You have a dog? Well, look at me, buster. I have an orange. “I should have asked your permission before feeding him.”
“Probably,” he says, reaching down to ruffle Bruno’s head. “But it’s okay. He’s a hound. It’s not like he’s going to get sick. Hounds aren’t prissy.”
“Are some dogs . . . prissy?” I ask, clasping my orange between both hands. This is the longest I’ve spoken to a single, young, available man, on my own, since I was thirteen, and I can almost feel the fourteen-, fifteen-, sixteen-, and seventeen-year-old parts of me jumping up and down and swooning inside.
“Ever meet a poodle? Or a Chihuahua?”
My shoulders skim my ears when I shrug. “I don’t really know that much about dogs.”
“Never had one?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well, Bruno’s a hound. Specifically, he’s a redbone coonhound. He’s a working dog. A hunter.”
“He hunts . . . raccoons?”
“His breed does.”
“Oh.” I think this over. “Poor raccoons.”
And then the most miraculous thing happens. Miraculous because I wasn’t expecting it. Miraculous because I thought Julian was beautiful when I first saw him yesterday, but I had no idea how he could look . . . when he smiled.
I’m not ready for it. None of me is ready for the lightning bolt of pleasure that enters through my eyes and zaps my whole body, down to the tips of my toes and back up again. I feel lit up from the inside. Hot and bright.
Poor raccoons.” He chuckles softly, like he’s surprised, then shakes his head, staring down at Bruno. “Yeah. Okay.” He looks up and meets my eyes, his own still slightly crinkled from his smile. “Don’t worry. I let him tree them, not kill them.”
I realize that my mouth’s hanging open, and I close it, passing my orange from hand to hand as my racing heart pounds in my ears.
His smile fades as he stares back at me, the silence taut between us. His eyes widen, darkening to a deep forest green, and I watch, mesmerized, as he licks his lips before glancing over his shoulder at the barn.
“I should . . . get back to work.”
“Me too,” I murmur.
“You too?” he asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“No. Not me,” I say, popping up from my chair, my face flaming as my fingernails dig into the skin of the orange, spraying bitter juice onto my fingers. “I’m not . . . working. I’m just . . . I . . . I have to go, um, too.”
He stares at me for an extra beat, then chuckles softly before heading back to the barn.
I stare at his back, lowering my eyes to his waist, then still lower to his—
“Hey, Ashley,” he says, turning so fast, he catches me staring at his backside.
Can you clock the speed at which a human neck snaps up? Whatever the record used to be, I’m positive I just beat it. “Hmm? Y-yes?”
He grins at me, and I know I’ve been caught gaping. Lord, help me. I brace myself, expecting him to say something lewd or, at the very least, suggestive. Heck, I haven’t been called a bitch in almost thirty-six hours. I suppose I’m long past due.
“Thanks for dinner,” he says softly, then turns back around and saunters into the barn.

The Vixen and the Vet (Beauty & the Beast) – available now
Never Let You Go (Hansel & Gretel) – available now
Ginger’s Heart (Little Red Riding Hood) – available now
Dark Sexy Knight (Camelot) – available now
Don’t Speak (The Little Mermaid) – available now
Sheer Heaven (Rapunzel) – available now
Fragments of Ash (Cinderella) – coming October 1, 2018
Swan Song (The Ugly Duckling) – coming soon

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katy-regnery

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnery started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract, and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.

Forty books later, Katy claims authorship of the multi-titled New York Times and USA Today bestselling Blueberry Lane Series, which follows the English, Winslow, Rousseau, Story, and Ambler families of Philadelphia; the six-book, bestselling ~a modern fairytale~ series; and several other stand-alone novels and novellas, including the critically-acclaimed, 2018 RITA© nominated, USA Today bestselling contemporary romance, Unloved, a love story.

Katy’s first modern fairytale romance, The Vixen and the Vet, was nominated for a RITA® in 2015 and won the 2015 Kindle Book Award for romance. Katy’s boxed set, The English Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, hit the USA Today bestseller list in 2015, and her Christmas story, Marrying Mr. English, appeared on the list a week later. In May 2016, Katy’s Blueberry Lane collection, The Winslow Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, became a New York Times e-book bestseller.

Katy’s books are available in English, French, German, Italian, Portuguese and Turkish.

Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, two dogs, and one Blue Tonkinese kitten create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.

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NOW LIVE!! Say You Want It by Jenika Snow

Piper

It was supposed to be a summer job, something to help me transition from graduating high school to starting college. But to me this wasn’t just some office cleaning position.

I’d be working for Zane, the one man I’ve loved for longer than I even wanted to admit.

The one person who could make me weak in the knees with just a glance.

My father’s friend who was far too old for me, but sexier than sin.

Zane

I hired Piper to keep her close, to help appease my need for her. But I played it off like I was helping her earn some money before starting college.

I was too old for her.

She was too innocent for me.

She was my friend’s daughter.

Off limits.

But I’d wanted her since she turned legal last summer. I saw the way she watched me, the way she bit her lip, the fact her pulse jumped at the base of her throat when I was near. Did she know how obsessed I was with her, how I’d go to any means to keep any other man away from her?

I could see how much she wanted me and that was dangerous.

Because her need for me made me territorial, desperate.

Everything I was, everything I had, belonged to Piper.

All she had to do was ask and it was hers.

Warning: If you like possessive, territorial, and obsessed men in your stories, this insta-love one is just for you. With an older celibate hero, an innocent virgin heroine, and all the gooey juiciness you love in romance make sure you have something cold to drink as you read this one.

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As he stared at me, I wondered what could’ve been so important that he had to stop the car. But as I looked into his face, I could see what he was about to say was serious. That had me nervous. Was everything okay?
Was this about my father?
Was he about to tell me that he knew how I felt, could sense it, feel it?
Or maybe he was about to tell me how things couldn’t happen between us.
Every “what if” passed through my head and my entire body tightened. I tried to act calm, appear like I had my shit together. The truth was I didn’t. So, all I did was brace myself for the impact.
“I didn’t know how to say this, how to go about even bringing this up,” he finally said, his voice deep with emotion.
He was looking past me as he spoke, as if maybe he couldn’t look me in the eye when he said the words. With every passing second I grew even more convinced he was about to draw the line between us.
“But I can’t stand idly back anymore, Piper. I can’t keep how I feel inside a minute longer. Having you so close, working right beside me, knowing that all I have to do is reach out and touch you, pull you in close, has my self-control on a tightrope.” He looked at me then. “It’s snapped, Piper, and if I don’t tell you how I feel, what I want, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
I felt my eyes widen, knew they were probably massive saucers on my face. What Zane had just said was certainly not what I expected to hear. I’d assumed he’d keep us at a distance, break my heart even if he didn’t realize.
But no, what he just told me was my fantasy come to life. The look he gave me, the way I felt when he touched me … all of that had meant more than what was in my head.
It was real.
“Zane…” That was the only word that come out of my mouth that moment. I was so shocked, not even able to think clearly.
“Let me finish, and then you can turn me down.”
My heart stuttered at that confession. Me, turn him down? Was he insane?
“I’ve wanted you since you were eighteen, Piper. It’s wrong, I know. Not just because you’re so much younger than I am, but because you’re Liam’s daughter. This could cause issues between him and me, but I can’t stop myself from wanting you. I can’t hold back my emotions anymore.”
He lifted his hand and rubbed his eyes, as if the conversation drained him. I knew exactly how he felt. My emotions were exhausting, hiding them, trying to fight them. It was to the point where I didn’t even try anymore.
“Maybe if it was just a passing desire, I could control how I felt for you.” He shook his head slowly as he stared into my eyes. “But this isn’t a passing emotion. I love you, Piper. I’m in love with you, and there’s nothing and no one that can—will—ever change that fact.”
We were silent, the air so thick it was like swimming through pudding. I couldn’t breathe, could barely even look at him for how intense this whole situation was.
Zane loved me.
He. Loved. Me.

Jenika Snow, a USA Today bestselling author, lives in the northeast with her husband and their children.

She prefers gloomy days, eats the topping off of her pizza first, and prefers to wear socks year round.

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