NEW RELEASE!! Evidence of Desire by Lexi Blake ~ Sarah A’s Review

A fast-paced contemporary romance that sizzles from the New York Times bestselling author of Order of Protection where passion for the law isn’t the only thing heating up the courtroom.

Isla Shayne knows she’s in over her head. As former all-star linebacker Trey Adams’s personal lawyer, she’s used to handling his business dealings and private financial matters, not murder charges. She needs to find an experienced criminal attorney who speaks her client’s language. David Cormack of Garrison, Cormack and Lawless is exactly what she needs in the courtroom—and the only man she wants in the bedroom.

For David, taking on the Adams case means diving back into a world he thought he’d left behind and colliding head on with tragic possibilities he’s in no mood to face. There’s a reason professional football is in his past and no matter how close Isla gets to the truth he intends to leave it there.

But long days working on the case together lead to hot nights in each other’s arms. As their feelings grow, the case takes a deadly twist that could change the game between the two lovers forever.

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It’s no secret that I am in love with Lexi Blake’s writing. She always manages to captivate me and tell fascinating stories. She often includes incredibly delicate topics in her novels, and Evidence of Desire was a prime example of that. She weaved the devastating threads of degenerative mental disorders into an already enthralling suspense novel, making it feel more poignant than so many other novels in the same genre. This may be one of my favorite Lexi Blake stories, and I can’t wait to see what else she has in store for us in this world.

Evidence of Desire is simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming, watching David’s fears manifested through his case was devastating. Watching Portia, Isla, and David’s mother show him that love wasn’t as fragile and mercurial as he’d previously experienced was EVERYTHING. I continually found myself completely consumed by both Isla and David’s love story, and Portia and Trey’s. Any time I can get my hands on a book that gives me a two-fer on romance, I’m in.

The suspense in Evidence of Desire was captivating and had me trying to piece together all the evidence until nearly the last second. All the clues were there, little nuggets of information that seemed unimportant at the time, but once everything came to light, I was able to finally take a step back and see the big picture Ms. Blake had been carefully weaving from the beginning. It was a wild and fascinating ride from beginning to end.

Evidence of Desire is the second book in Lexi Blake’s Courting Justice series. These books can be read as standalones. Characters from the first novel carry over into this book, and we also get a visit from some of our favorite Masters and Mercenaries, too. Evidence of Desire is written in limited third-person perspective, alternating between following Isla and David’s thoughts.

Isla couldn’t believe she was doing this, but the minute she got a good look at David Cormack without his suit on she knew there was no going back. She’d been ready to make a pot of tea and wait for him to come out of the shower when Erin Taggart had appeared in the kitchen.

“Not jumping his bones, then?” she’d asked as she dragged a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“He wants to take it slow.” She was aware of how disappointed she’d sounded.

“No man who looks at a woman the way that one looks at you wants to take things slow. He’s scared you’re too good for him or something stupid like that,” she said. “I should know. I held off my gorgeous hottie for way too long because he was a tiny bit younger than me. Don’t waste time. Take command. And then when he’s all in, give that control up. That always works for me. ’Night.”

There was something in the way the redhead smiled, something intimate and soft. Something Isla wanted for herself again. She’d had it as a girl with Austin. She wanted to know how it felt to have that connection as a woman.

So she’d made the decision. Maybe for the first time in her life, she’d genuinely made the decision to be brave, to go after what she wanted with a singular purpose, to put herself out there and see if she was bait enough to catch the one fish she wanted.

Though first she needed some fishing gear. According to Noah, that was in the nightstand drawer.

She’d stepped in and taken off her clothes. All in. Just like a poker game. If he refused to play, she would be devastated and potentially never be able to face the man again, but she’d felt almost compelled to undress and walk to the entry of that sexy natural stone shower. She’d stood there and looked, really looked at David Cormack. He’d been turned away from her, his back on full display. He was beautifully male, his muscles defined by years of athleticism. His back was strong, his butt practically perfect, and he was held up with strong legs. But his head hung low and she could swear she felt how lonely he was.

She hadn’t realized how lonely she was until she’d met him. “David?”

He started, every muscle tensing, and then he turned, though he mostly moved his torso as though trying to keep his private parts private. His eyes latched onto her, but he didn’t say a word.

Oh, she wanted to run. He was far too gorgeous. She wasn’t in his league. She knew she was attractive, but she wasn’t even close to being in the same condition he was in. He’d been an elite athlete and he’d obviously never stopped working out. She could stand to lose a few pounds.

And if those pounds and the roundness of her hips ran him off, then so be it. She was done sitting around and hoping she got what she wanted. At least she would know. “I don’t want to go slow.”

For a second, she was almost sure he would tell her to go. Then he turned and he was standing there in his full glory, as though let- ting her see what he had to offer. When she simply stared, he crossed the space between them and, without a word, his hands cupped her face and his mouth was on hers.

The minute they touched, something sparked to life inside her, something wild she’d never felt before. It seemed to start in her toes, making them curl as the sensation rushed through her system. Heat and anticipation and pure joy.

It had been forever since a man kissed her like this. Maybe never. The only thing that compared was the sweet high school fumbling between her and Austin. He’d been eager, but he had no idea what he was doing.

David Cormack knew how to kiss. He mastered her mouth with his, soft when he needed to be and then rough, sending a thrill through her system that burned a path straight to her pussy. He brushed his lips against hers and then zeroed in on her lower lip, biting gently and sucking briefly before another soft kiss allowed her to breathe again. And then when she was ready to beg, his tongue surged in, rubbing soft velvet against her own.

“Tell me you’re sure,” he said against her mouth as his hands moved down.

“I’m sure,” she replied with a breathy whisper. He could throw her up against the side of the shower and take her then and there and she would be perfectly satisfied.

“Because there’s no going back. I’ve been a good boy up until this point. I’ve been civilized, Isla. I’ve played the gentleman around you, but if you let me in, I’ll invade and you’ll see the real man under- neath the suit. I’ll be demanding and overly protective and I’ll want you every fucking minute of the day.”

And that was bad, how? She’d been on the outside looking in for so long, the idea of being someone’s center, being the person for him, made her heart ache with longing. “Please touch me, David. I want the real you, every dirty, possessive part of you.”

His hands found her hips and he dragged her against him, their bodies coming together for the first time. He was warm, his skin soft over the steel of his muscular body.

She took a moment, letting her arms wrap around him, her breasts against his chest, that hard erection of his cradled to her belly. This was sweet intimacy. Yes, it would lead to something wild, but for a moment she basked in the comfort of another body against hers.

He stepped back, taking her with him and bringing them into the warmth of the shower. He seemed to understand she needed a moment, and he followed her lead perfectly. One hand held her to him while the other smoothed back her now-wet hair as he brushed light kisses over her forehead and down to her nose, lavishing her with affection she’d been starved without. He stood like that with her, learning her body with his hands and mouth.

“See,” he said with the sexiest chuckle as he leaned over and ran his tongue along the shell of her ear. “We’re still taking it slow. I could do this for hours and I haven’t even gotten to your tasty parts yet. You’re sweet, Isla. I could eat you up. Are you going to let me eat you up?”

She nodded.

One hand tangled in her hair, gently drawing her back and forc- ing her to look up at him. His eyes were hot, his jaw tight with arousal. “Talk to me. I won’t let you disconnect from me when we’re intimate. Tell me. ‘‘Yes, David, I want you to eat me up.’”

“Yes, David. I want you to eat me up.”

To high-end defense attorney Henry Garrison, Win Hughes is a woman he met during one of the most trying times of his life. She’s soft and warm, and he finds solace in their brief relationship. But Win has a secret. She’s actually Taylor Winston-Hughes—born to one of the wealthiest families in the country, orphaned as a child by a tragic accident. Win moves in the wealthiest circles, but her lavish lifestyle hides her pain.

When her best friend is murdered in the midst of a glittering New York gala, Win’s charged with the crime, and the only person in the world she wants to see is Henry.

Henry is shocked at the true identity of his lover, but he can’t reject the case. This case could take his new firm into the stratosphere. Still, he’s not getting burned by Win again. And yet every turn brings them closer together.

As the case takes a wild turn and Win’s entire life is upended, she must look to the people she’s closest to in order to find a killer. And Henry must decide between making his case and saving the woman he loves…

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

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Wild Collision by Micalea Smeltzer ~ Sarah A’s Review

He was a beautiful nightmare.

Mia Hayes is comfortable with her life as it is.
Boring is good.
Boring is normal.
Boring is safe.
But the thing with boring is it makes temptation all the sweeter.

She was a sweet dream.

Hollis Wilder goes a hundred miles an hour after everything he wants.
Fast is fun.
Fast is crazy.
Fast is dangerous.
But the thing with fast is it keeps you from thinking before you act.

Together they were the notes in their favorite song.

When Mia and Hollis collide—literally—music’s new bad boy can’t help but notice the beautiful red-haired woman with soft curves. She calls to him like a siren, and since the word no isn’t in his vocabulary he’s determined to get what he wants.

The problem is, one night won’t be enough, and the fact that Mia is his mentor’s daughter complicates things royally.

Mia’s the one girl that’s off limits, but she might be the only one he wants for real.

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Sweet, swoony, and funny, Wild Collision was a fun read. There were some things that didn’t quite work for me, but I could definitely see the appeal of Mia and Hollis for someone else. I didn’t quite feel their connection as deeply as I hoped, but I could feel that it may have been headed in that direction with a little more time.

Mia and Hollis had great banter; I always feel like the best relationships are rooted in couples who can communicate freely and having a good back and forth is a backbone of that kind of interaction. I loved that they knew what they wanted from one another and pursued it knowing what it could cost them. They both had powerful and intriguing personalities and seeing them figure out how to navigate this new dynamic they had was fascinating.

My wish for this story would just be to see a little more connection and chemistry between Mia and Hollis. There was some written, but it felt a little forced to me. What we did see of their chemistry seemed mostly predicated on the physical aspect of their relationship, and I wish I would have seen more of the emotional side of it.

Wild Collision is the first book in Micalea Smeltzer’s The Wild series. This series is a spinoff of Willow Creek series; I haven’t read that series, but I don’t feel like that took away from the experience of this novel. If anything, it made we want to check those books out to see where this all started. Wild Collision is written in dual first-person perspective, narrated by Mia and Hollis.

He closes the distance between us swiftly, grabbing my face roughly between his hands. He kisses me quickly, desperately. It’s a bruising kind of kiss. One that leaves a path of flames in its wake.

He lets me go and steps away. “I had to kiss you before I couldn’t for the rest of the evening,” he admits.

I touch my lips where they still tingle from his.

He flashes a cocky smile, pleased with himself for rendering me speechless.

“I know I’m a good kisser, but I didn’t know it was possible to stun you into silence. I’m impressed with myself.”

I snap out of my revelry. “I hope you go home and write about it in your diary.”

“Oh, I will.” He smirks.

“Is it pink and sparkly?”

“Of course—I even hot glued my name in sequins on it and the first page is marked with Future Mr. Mia Hayes.”

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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NOW LIVE!! Havoc by Kindle Alexander

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?

***  AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
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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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Desperate by AK Evans ~ Sarah A’s Review

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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Control by K Bromberg ~ Sarah A’s Review

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.

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Control was a great novella, but I kind of felt like we were barely getting to scratch the surface of Desi and Reznor’s story. The story was complete; I just felt like there was so much more to both of them just under the surface. Things that were briefly glossed over but never really explored. I have a love/hate relationship with novellas, and this was a perfect example of why. They’re so much fun when you only have a small amount of reading time, but they always leave me craving more.

Control is the second book I’ve read in as many days where the woman is leery of relationships in general, and the man slowly wears down her walls, and I’ve got to tell you I’m there for it. As much as I love a broody bad boy – and I do, I really do – it’s refreshing to have the roles reversed occasionally. I loved that Reznor was equally unsure about love and domesticity, but he knew what he and Desi had was special and worth fighting for and fight he did.

Desi was not my favorite heroine. She was frustrating and a little hard to love, but she was damn sure of herself and knew what she wanted, so she did have a certain appeal to the part of me that loves a strong woman. There were definitely times I just wanted to shake some sense into her and make her see what was standing right in front of her. For all the frustration I held for Desi, I did eventually understand why she felt like she did, and it broke my heart a little for her.

Control was predicated on some heavier themes, that weren’t delved too deeply into – as is the nature of a novella – but the strongest part of this book was the banter between Desi and Reznor. They were both quick-witted and knew how to get under each other’s skin, which lent a great deal of levity and humor to the story. I did appreciate the heavier moments of the book, when they were actually living and sharing their truths, and would have loved to see more of that.

Control is the fourth book in K. Bromberg’s Everyday Heroes series and can be read as a standalone. There are a few cameos from one of the previous couples in the series, but nothing that spoils their story. Control is written in dual first-person perspective, narrated by Desi and Reznor.

“Remind me not to like him.”

“Like who?” she asks.

Gotta keep her on her toes.

“Logan St. Assh*le,” I say. “Guys who have cats—correction, guys who name their cat Pussy—either aren’t getting any or are using the name as a way to state they’re not gay when everyone already knows they are.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. Why be ashamed of who you are and hide behind a cat? Just live the best life.”

There’s something I say that has her head tilting to the side again. She takes me in a little longer than expected. “It’s the former,” she finally admits.

I shrug. “Why is he an assh*le?”

“The bigger question is how is he not an assh*le?” For the briefest of moments I see a ghost of a smile on her lips, and it reminds me of how pretty she was the other day before the defense class began when she was chatting me up.

“Doggy Style?” I ask.

“That’s the name.”

“But Pussy is a cat.”

“You’re quite observant…”

“I can imagine you attract all kinds of interesting folks with that name,” I say, dismissing her sarcasm.

For the briefest of moments something flickers through her eyes and before I can put a finger on it, the emotion is gone, but it reminds me of what I saw in them the other day after class.

“Just as I’m sure you do working with SWAT.”

“Always.” I look at the cute cottage-style house. “You lived here long?”

We stare at each other in silence, and it’s almost as if she remembers she isn’t supposed to like me. Her expression and posture suddenly stiffen…probably because she realized she was smiling at me.

And f*ck if I know why it turns me on.

“It’s none of your business.”

So that’s how she wants to play it? Fine.

“Then it’s also none of my business that Pussy ran into the house about two minutes ago.” She narrows her eyes and sneers at me again. “It’s your loss, Desi.”

“What is?”

“That you don’t trust me to show you just how good I am with something wet and groomed.” And with that parting comment, I flash her a lightning-quick grin before heading to my side of the fence, while she grumbles and curses me out under her breath.

I hear her door slam.

I hear her call for Pussy again.

And all I can think about is how damn unexpected she is—and at the same time such a very welcome distraction.

I think I’m going to like my time in Sunnyville.

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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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Confessions: the Princess, the Prick, & the Priest ~ Sarah A’s Review

Confessions: The Princess, The Prick, and The Priest, a fun, flirty story in the Confessions Series from USA Today bestselling author Ella Frank is LIVE!

Everyone said our love wouldn’t work.

That it was too hard, too complicated, too messy.

Oh how I enjoy proving everyone wrong.

My men are smart, sexy, sophisticated—

and most of all, crazy about me.

The only problem is trying to explain

that to my big, opinionated Italian family.

But after all we’ve been through, we deserve a

happily ever after. And if there’s one

thing I know about my guys, they always

manage to have a few surprises up their sleeves.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

***  AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
Amazon

Confessions: the Princess, the Prick, & the Priest was like an extended epilogue after all the suspense and drama that we’d experiences with this threesome in the first three books of their story. It was so nice to get to check in on them beginning, and living, their happily ever after.

Confessions: the Princess, the Prick, & the Priest is drama free, angst-free, and really just a wonderful way to wrap up a series that was so hard on the people living it. Robbie, Julien, and Priest had already been through so much, overcome so many things, healed so completely, it was good to see them finally living out from under the clouds they’d been covered by for so long.

I loved Robbie’s family and how accepting they were of his less than conventional relationship. It was also so heartwarming to see how completely and lovingly they brought Julien and Priest into the fold. They both needed that kind of unconditional love and acceptance; I’m sure finally having that kind of unfettered welcome helped to heal the final broken pieces in both men.

Confessions: the Princess, the Prick, & the Priest is the fourth and final book in Ella Frank’s Confessions series. These books are one continuous story told in four installments and must be read in order. The Confessions series is a spin-off from Ms. Frank’s Temptation series, but that series doesn’t need to be read before reading this one. Confessions: the Princess, the Prick, & the Priest is written in third-person limited perspective, alternatively following Robbie, Julien, and Priest’s thoughts.

CHAPTER ONE

I’m not sure why everyone dreads their thirties.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s going to be
the best decade ever ~ Robbie

Six Months Later…

“LOVERS, I’M HOME,” Robbie Bianchi called out to his boyfriends, as he juggled several shopping bags in one hand and kicked the front door shut behind him. He stuffed his car keys into the pocket of his shorts, and as he evened out what he was carrying, he took the stairs that led him up to the first floor of their new home.

With the same smile on his face that he’d left with that morning, Robbie headed across the hardwood floors past the dining room, and into the kitchen, where he spotted a note waiting for him: We’re upstairs, princesse. Come find us when you get home.

Robbie grinned at the messy crown drawn above the i in princesse, but then quickly did as he was told. With one hand on the steel rail, he took the stairs two at a time, and as he reached the second floor where the bedroom was located, he walked inside to find it empty except for the fish swimming around the tank that lined the wall facing their bed.

Dropping his shopping bags on the end of the mattress, Robbie headed up to the final floor, where he knew his men were waiting for him. He opened up the glass door that led to the penthouse deck, and when he stepped outside and the warm rays washed over him, Robbie took in a breath of fresh air.

Ah, he’d always loved summer. Everything about it. The sun, the smell of the freshly cut grass, and the clothes—or lack thereof—Robbie thought, as he reached for the edge of his white tank top and drew it over his head.

As he tucked it into the back of his shorts, Robbie scanned the wide deck, his eyes roaming over the wooden slat floor, the hot tub over in the corner, and the glistening water of the lap pool surrounded by the potted greenery bordering their rooftop oasis.

This space had been the final selling point with all three of them when they’d made the decision to leave the condo after what had happened there with Jimmy. It was the perfect place for Julien to relax and do his yoga, for Priest, who loved a good soak to clear his mind, and for Robbie, for whom it was all about the calm he got from finally seeing his men happy and at peace. And that was exactly how he found one of them right now. There, stretched out on one of the sun loungers, was the brand-new reason that Robbie loved summer—an almost-naked Julien Thornton.

Dressed in tight, black, barely there swim shorts that left little—okay, nothing—to the imagination, the only other thing Julien was wearing was a pair of Aviator sunglasses. His rich, olive-colored skin was glistening with water droplets as he lay sprawled out with his hands behind his head, and oh my God was he a feast for the eyes.

As Robbie walked to the end of the lounger, his eyes roamed up Julien’s toned legs to his muscular thighs, and ended at the bulge that tight material was cupping like a glove.

Oh yes, this was hands down the best part about summer now, and luckily for Robbie and Priest, tanning was a favorite pastime of their seriously sexy Frenchman.

Bonjour, princesse.” Julien’s honey-toned voice wrapped around Robbie, informing him that he’d been caught staring. But he didn’t care—not one little bit.

“One second, please. I’m concentrating here,”Robbie said, his gaze trailing up all he could see to finally land on Julien’s face. “Now, sorry, what were you saying?”

Julien chuckled as Robbie walked alongside him. “Bonjour, princesse.”

“Oh, yes,” Robbie said, and bent down to brush a kiss across Julien’s lips. “Bonjour, Jules.”

Robbie went to straighten, but before he got too far away, Julien took hold of the back of his neck and craned up for a deeper kiss. Robbie’s lips parted, and Julien slipped his tongue inside, making Robbie’s cock jerk to attention, as he braced his hand on the back of the lounger and sank into the deliciousness that was all Julien.

Relationships are complex.
Love ever-changing.
And when it comes to rules of the heart,
they were made to be broken…

That’s what Robert Antonio Bianchi was telling himself, anyway.
Otherwise, he really had no excuse for what—or who—he’d done.

No excuse, except for his lonely heart, a pitcher of margaritas, four Bitter Bitches, and the apparent need to confess all his weaknesses to the two men he knew would bring him nothing but trouble.

But trouble was nothing new.
Just ask his crazy sisters or any of his friends, and they’d be the first to tell you:
If there was a bad decision to be made, Robbie always had a knack for making it.

And thus begins the story of the priest, the princess, and the prick.

***  AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
Amazon

People are complex.
Love a double-edged sword.
And when it comes to a broken heart, there are no rules, only time…

For the past eight years, Julien Thornton has been living with a secret. One that only a handful of people know about.

To the outside world, he has it all.
A thriving career. A loving husband. And a face that the American public fell for by the millions, on a reality show that inadvertently saved his life.

But behind the shine of celebrity, behind the easygoing nature, a crippling truth fills Julien with pain and self-loathing. It’s a truth that he fights to overcome daily with the help of his husband, Joel Priestley, and now their boyfriend, Robbie Bianchi.

But unlike Priest, Robbie doesn’t know what he’s helping Julien to fight. He doesn’t know what Julien did all those years ago. And with the anniversary of his sister’s death fast approaching, the time for explanations is running out.

And thus the question: will the princess be able to forgive the prick as the priest once did?

Only time will tell.

***  AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
Amazon

I am complex.

My love is all-encompassing.
And when it comes to my heart, there is only one rule:
Don’t mess with what’s mine.

Until the age of seven, I was Joel Alexander Donovan, son of Jimmy.
The man who terrorized a town and made its citizens fear
the very ground he walked on. Including me,
the day I realized that ground ran red with blood.

At age eighteen, I became Priest.
A man without a past.
A man determined to right the wrongs of my father.
A man who never believed anyone could love the son of such a monster.

But then a thief stole my heart.
A sweetheart lit up my world.
And I forgot for a moment you should never turn your back on your enemy.

And thus begins a lesson to those who would seek to harm: Never underestimate what the Priest will do to protect the Princess and the Prick.

***  AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
Amazon

Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust and is the co-author of the fan-favorite contemporary romance, Sex Addict. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”

Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Phillips.

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Wild Collision by Micalea Smeltzer ~ EXCERPT REVEAL

He was a beautiful nightmare.

Mia Hayes is comfortable with her life as it is.
Boring is good.
Boring is normal.
Boring is safe.
But the thing with boring is it makes temptation all the sweeter.

She was a sweet dream.

Hollis Wilder goes a hundred miles an hour after everything he wants.
Fast is fun.
Fast is crazy.
Fast is dangerous.
But the thing with fast is it keeps you from thinking before you act.

Together they were the notes in their favorite song.

When Mia and Hollis collide—literally—music’s new bad boy can’t help but notice the beautiful red-haired woman with soft curves. She calls to him like a siren, and since the word no isn’t in his vocabulary he’s determined to get what he wants.

The problem is, one night won’t be enough, and the fact that Mia is his mentor’s daughter complicates things royally.

Mia’s the one girl that’s off limits, but she might be the only one he wants for real.

***  PREORDER NOW ~ NOVEMBER 23  ***
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I don’t know how long we’re in the alley kissing, but finally he releases me. We’re both breathless. My lips feel swollen and bruised. I don’t mind one bit.

“Do you have to go home yet?” he asks, his voice low and husky. His eyes fall to my lips and he rubs his thumb against them. They’re tender, but I don’t mind his touch.

I shake my head.

He cracks a small smile. “Come to the hotel with me.”

“But the guys…” I hesitate.

“They already know about you. The nosy bastards figured it out without me saying a word.” I can tell he’s irritated by this fact, but they’re also his best friends so he can laugh about it.

“I don’t know…”

“We can watch a movie or something. Nothing more,” he explains, seeing where my mind is going. “We can order a pizza too—or whatever you want from room service.”

I think a moment longer before nodding. I’m not ready to go home yet. Spending more time with Hollis sounds nice. As much as I love kissing him, I enjoy hanging out with him even more, which shocks me. I never expected to like him. From the moment he walked out of my bathroom in nothing but a towel I’d made up my mind to hate him.

But hating Hollis is impossible.

We walk back to the hotel, too worried to hold hands, but close enough our fingers graze often. Some people, mostly college girls, eye him up and down. He’s hot, so it’s expected, but word has also gotten around about the new band in town recording their album. While most people in this town are over it and don’t care, The Wild is like a new shiny toy to be played with and admired.

I don’t know how famous people do it—enjoy being gawked at like a specimen under a microscope. Heck, even I’ve been gawked at and had paparazzi follow me even though I’m literally the most boring person on the planet. I don’t understand the obsession people have with celebrities, wanting to know every single detail about their lives, where they go, who their friends are, what they eat—give them a break and room to breathe. I saw a pap follow my dad into a public restroom once—he stormed out a second later and gave management a mouthful.

Hollis and I reach the hotel and ride up in the elevator together careful to stand apart and not say a word.

When he opens the door to their suite my mouth falls open.

“Whoa, this place is cool.”

Fox’s head whips over in our direction from the couch when he hears my voice.

“Yo, Mia, what are you doing here?”

“Hollis invited me for pizza and a movie.”

“Sweet—as long as it’s not a chick flick.”

I fake a yawn. “Pass.”

“Can I keep you?” Fox jokes making a kissy face at me.

Rush strides out of a room then in only a towel. As he passes Fox he whips it off and smacks him with it.

Hollis slaps his hands over my eyes, but it’s too late, I already got an eyeful.

“Pretty sure she’s already taken dude.”

“Rush,” Hollis hisses, “cover up, man.”

“What? Afraid she’ll see what I’m packing and come running?”

“It was impressive,” I admit with a laugh.

Hollis growls and mutters, “Don’t make me remind you what’s really impressive.”

I give him a sly smile as he lowers his hands. “I don’t know, sounds enjoyable.”

His eyes darken with desire.

“Not here,” Cannon warns coming into the room.

“Yeah, down boy,” I tell Hollis. “I’m here for pizza and a movie. If you don’t feed me I might bite.”

He lowers his head and whispers in my ear, “I wouldn’t mind.”

I can’t help but smile. Patting him on the chest, I say, “Now go order my pizza, peasant.”

All three of the other guys bust out laughing. “Peasant? More like he’s your bitch,” Fox chortles.

Hollis shakes his head, but his lips quirk in amusement. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Pepperoni.”

“A pepperoni pizza for milady coming right up,” he says bowing theatrically before slipping away.

I sit down on the couch beside Fox and swipe the remote from him.

“No chick flicks,” Rush warns coming out of his room to join us. At least he’s wearing pants now.

“What is it with you guys and chick flicks?” I mutter. “Afraid a little kissing and romance will make your dick shrivel up and die?”

“They’re boring,” Rush defends.

“Mhmm,” I hum. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Cannon speaks up. “He’s bitching because he cried at Titanic.”

“It was one tear,” Rush defends in mock anger. “And Jack shouldn’t have died. He was the best character in the whole damn movie.”

Cannon smirks at him as Rush sits on my other side.

I log into my Netflix account. “We’re going to watch my favorite movie of all time,” I warn them.

“If Reese Witherspoon is in it giving legal advice I’m out,” Rush warns, raising his hands.

I snort. “Nope.”

I click the movie and the guys all breathe a collective sigh of relief. Pussies.

“Jurassic Park is your favorite movie?” Fox asks, sounding surprised.

“Dinosaurs and Jeff Goldblum … um yeah, it’s my favorite movie.”

“You have a crush on Jeff Goldblum?” Rush asks with amusement.

“Duh, have you seen him? Or listened to him speak? He could read me the dictionary and I’d happily sit there and listen.”

Rush chuckles. “How does Hollis feel about that?”

“How do I feel about what?” Hollis asks, stepping back into the room. He gets a disgruntled look when he sees Fox and Rush beside me, but then shakes his head as a determined smile takes over his face.

He strides over to me and I squeal as he picks me up and sits down with me in his lap.

“Mia, here, has a crush on Jeff Goldblum,” Fox explains.

“Really?” he asks, eyeing me with surprise.

“Why is this shocking?”

“I don’t know,” Hollis admits. “I guess it’s unexpected is all.”

“Can we watch the movie now?” I ask.

“Wait, we need popcorn,” Cannon says in his gruff voice, hopping up.

I don’t know why but I’m still always surprised when he opens his mouth. He’s broody and quiet all the time. When he shows any bit of enthusiasm for something it takes me by surprise.

As the movie begins Cannon pops popcorn in the suite’s kitchen making the room smell like buttery goodness and causing my mouth to water.

“I can’t believe you guys have popcorn here,” I mutter to Hollis.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling against my back as he holds me tight. “Only because Cannon is a mother hen and went to the grocery store the day after we got here to make sure we had everything we needed.”

“Better to be a mother hen than to starve,” Cannon defends from the kitchen.

“Shh, I want to watch the movie.”

Hollis pinches my side and whispers in my ear, “You started it.”

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.

Join my Facebook group for an early look at covers, exclusive teasers, behind the scenes photos, and much more.

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

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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

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon Author | Driven Group

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

Amazon

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.

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