Folsom by Fisher & Aster ~ Excerpt Reveal

The nation as we know it is a thing of the past.

With the male species on the verge of extinction, a society called the End Men is formed to save the world. Folsom Donahue is one of twelve men whose sole purpose is to repopulate the Regions. The endless days spent having sex with strangers leaves Folsom with an emptiness no amount of women, money, or status can fill.

Until Gwen.

Gwen has wanted a child for as long as she can remember, but when she finally gets a chance to have her own, she uncovers a long hidden truth. The injustice she sees moves her to help save the men whom no one else believes need saving.

A forbidden love, grown in a time of despair, ignites a revolution.

Folsom and Gwen, torn between their love for each other and their sense of duty, must make a choice. But some will stop at nothing to destroy them.

Folsom is book one of the End of Men series.

I stop dead in my tracks. There’s someone else in here. At first I see only boots, large boots, too big for a woman. He hears me come in and perches forward on the sink to peer around the corner.

“You can’t read or you don’t care?” he asks.

At first I’m too shocked to know what he’s talking about, then I remember the Out of Order sign on the door.

“I can’t read,” I say. “I’m just another stupid woman trying to have a baby.”

He laughs. It bounces across the bathroom walls and hits me in the chest.

“Well, at least you have a sense of humor, stupid woman.”

I’m witnessing the very serious and stern Folsom Donahue laughing. I stand there staring at him, not knowing what to do.

And then I ask. “Are you hiding, too?”

“In plain sight,” he says. “Who are you hiding from?”

“Everyone.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

I eye his casual stance, the large hands resting behind him on the sink, the crossed ankles. “Not well, since you’re here.”

He laughs again, this time just a slow rumble while he watches my face.

“I have to go,” he says, pushing away from the counter. He walks toward me and my heart races. I’ve never been this close to a man. He’s just trying to get to the door, I tell myself. But, then he stops so he’s towering over me. I have to bend my head back to see his face.

“Have a good night,” he says. And I learn for the first time what a smirk is. Full lips … teasing … I blink at him, my lips parting to answer, but then he’s gone and I’m not even sure it really happened.

https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/1226318453/playlist/0nD2lFQEfKiF1rWkdbNezi

Tarryn Fisher is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of nine novels. Born a sun hater, she currently makes her home in Seattle, Washington with her children, husband, and psychotic husky. Tarryn writes about villains.

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Willow Aster is the author of True Love Story, In the Fields, Maybe Maby, Fade to Red, and Lilith. Willow loves nothing more than writing the day away—anywhere will do. Her husband and two children graciously put up with her endless daydreaming and make fun of her for reading while cooking.

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Breathe by Carly Phillips ~ EXCERPT REVEAL

Breathe, an all-new second chance romance from Wall Street Journal and New York Times bestselling author Carly Phillips is coming May 15th!

Fall in love with the Wards…

From troubled teen to successful general contractor, Jake Nichols turned his life around from his time in foster care. Divorced and single, he juggles his time between his daughter and his work. Next on his agenda, a new project that is his chance to prove his worth at the job he loves. Except he never anticipates that the only girl he’s ever loved and lost as a teen is now a grown and beautiful woman in charge of the project.

Phoebe Ward has survived and conquered a painful past that includes foster care and becoming a teenaged mom. She wants nothing more than to focus on the present but it’s hard when she looks into the eyes of her son, knowing she’s tried and failed to find his father. She’s resigned herself to raising him alone with the help of her family… Until a client meeting brings her face to face with her first love. A boy… now a sexy man she thought she’d never see again … and the father of her child.

So many years have gone by and both of their lives have changed drastically. Will they be able to put the past behind them and find the second chance they both deserve?

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“Hello?” Phoebe called out.
“In here!” a masculine voice said, sounding like it came from the far side of the house.
She followed the sound and noticed a man talking on the phone, his back to her. He was tall, well built, muscles defined, as she took him in from behind. And what a behind he had, a tight ass in his faded jeans.

She ogled the sight shamelessly, her gaze traveling up his lean waist and broad shoulders. His dark hair was short and the jet-black color she preferred on a man. He wore a light blue button-down, sleeves rolled up, revealing sexy forearms.

And then he turned to meet her gaze, giving her one raised finger to indicate he needed another minute on the phone. Except she wasn’t paying attention to the gesture, because one look at that handsome face, more mature than she remembered but just as good-looking, and she froze.

Vivid blue eyes widened at the sight of her in return.

She wasn’t just looking at a stranger, she was staring into the shocked eyes of her son’s father, a man she hadn’t seen since before she found out she was pregnant.

“Jake?” she whispered, unable to comprehend the fact that she was standing in the same room with her first love. Her first everything.

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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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Lie to Me by Natasha Preston ~ EXCERPT REVEAL

At nineteen, Savannah Dean escaped her family, leaving behind a note and the people who caused her so much pain.

Now, she lives on her own and keeps to herself.

At nineteen, Kent Lawson’s girlfriend betrayed him, leaving him behind with a broken heart and a whole lot of mistrust in women.

Now, he lives on his own and shares himself with nearly every pretty thing that walks by but only for one night.

When Savannah and Kent meet, they can’t stand each other.

Kent knows she’s hiding something, and he despises liars.

And Savannah has nothing but secrets.

***  PREORDER NOW ~ RELEASES APRIL 23, 2018  ***
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Wednesday rolls around way too fast. I have a whole evening with Savannah. It’s been really nice these past four days that she’s been out of my life. Yet, the whole time, I’ve been craving the way we snip at each other.

I need help.

I cut my engine outside her building and look up. Apparently, she lives up on the first floor and faces out toward the road.

Is she looking at me right now?

Why I feel the need to get out and buzz her apartment, I don’t know, but somehow, I find myself getting out of the car and walking toward the building. I stop at the front door, realising that Heidi told me what floor Savannah is on but not the number. Or she might have told me, and I just didn’t listen.

This is a great start.

I’m about to call my sister when I see Savannah through the glass, walking down the stairs to ground level.

Fuck me.

Has she always looked like that?

She’s wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a grey off-the-shoulder shirt, but she looks sexier than any other woman I’ve ever seen in a little dress.

Why don’t I like her again?

Her steely eyes, looking even more prominent with the colour of her top, warily eye me. Our last encounter wasn’t exactly pleasant.

She opens the door and smiles. “Hi, Kent.”

My back stiffens. “Savannah.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind taking me tonight? I can Uber.”

And there it is. This is why she fucking bothers me so much. I feel like telling her to call a fucking Uber then. She always sounds so unsure of herself, like every tiny thing a person does for her is some massive inconvenience. Why?

“It’s fine,” I spit.

She folds her arms, carefully because her fractured arm hasn’t healed. It does take away a little of the dramatic flair she was going for. “Do you need to take a nap before we go?”

“What?”

“You’re cranky.”

“You’re too polite.”

“Being polite is a bad thing?”

I flex my jaw. “Yes.”

“Fine. Get in the car, and take me.”

The intent behind her words is clear; however, I hear it completely different and laugh.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a knobhead, Kent. Take me to your parents’ house, I mean.”

“Knobhead. I’ve not heard that one in a while.”

Savannah takes another long breath. “I really don’t know why I thought accepting a lift from you would be a good idea. In fact, I didn’t. I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“You always follow through with bad ideas?”

“Tonight, I am.”

Fuck yeah. I love this fighting side of her. It’s like, when I rile her up enough, the cover slips, revealing the real Savannah. I’m not sure if she’s hiding something the way Freya was.

“You should work on that. I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

She tilts her head to the side, fire and determination in her eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to come tonight? And you wanted to be the one to pick me up?”

“You’re hot when you’re angry, Savannah.”

Actually, she’s hot all the time. It’s just, right now, she’s the whole package.

“You always use bullshit like that to deflect from someone calling you out?”

“You’re the first woman to call me out.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she mutters.

“Do you want to argue on your doorstep all night or get to my parents’ for dinner? I’m cool with either, just checking to see which way you’re leaning.”

She drops her arms, one still bound tightly in a splint. “I’m hungry.”

“Excellent, let’s go then.”

UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story and hasn’t looked back since.

She enjoys writing contemporary romance, gritty Young Adult thrillers and, of course, the occasional serial killer.

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The Birthday List by Devney Perry ~ Excerpt Reveal

Happily married to her college sweetheart, Poppy lived a blessed life with the husband of her dreams. Then everything changed. She is no longer a wife. She is no longer the envy of her single friends. Now, people look at her with pity as they whisper a single word behind her back.

Widow.

Years after her husband’s tragic death, years of pain and sorrow and wishing for the life she’ll never get back, Poppy decides to finish Jamie’s birthday list. She’ll do the things he wanted to most. Because maybe, just maybe, if she can complete his list, she can start to live again.

Poppy expects going through the birthday list will be hard. She expects it to hurt. But what she doesn’t expect is Cole. Could the man who delivered the news of her husband’s death and shattered her heart be the one to help her put it back together again?

***  PREORDER NOW ~ RELEASES APRIL #  ***
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“That’s quite a list.” Cole nodded toward the journal in between bites.

“It is.” My smile faltered at the way his jaw hardened.

“Are you planning on doing these all by yourself?”

“Um, yes.” How else was I going to get through them all?

“That’s going to take a while.”

“I hope not,” I sighed. “My goal is to get them done before New Year’s.”

“What?” His spoon dropped into the jar, clinking against the glass. “That’s less than six months away.”

“I know.” Just thinking about all I still had to do made my shoulders fall. “I thought I could do it, but with the restaurant and some of the bigger things on the list, it will take longer. I was really hoping to have it done before Jamie’s birthday.”

That seemed impossible now. With the restaurant and all of the other things I was adding to my daily schedule, piling on more was going to wear me thin. If I didn’t let up, my self-imposed deadline would stress me to the max.

Which meant it would take just that much longer to put this list behind me. Could I do it if I added another year? Maybe two?

I didn’t have to do this all so soon. But I wanted to. I wanted to do this for Jamie and let it go. Every day, I was getting stronger. I was getting back on my feet. I was starting to live again—for me.

And until the list was done, I’d still be living for Jamie.

“Look.” Cole leaned his elbows on the table. “I don’t want to step on your toes. This is an awesome list and he had some cool ideas. If you want to do them on your own, I understand. I get that this is incredibly personal. But if you’d like, I’d be glad to help you with some of these.

“What?” I didn’t know what made me smile more. That he thought Jamie’s list was cool or that he wanted to help. Regardless, I was beaming. “You’d really help?”

Cole’s eyes were sparkling again. “In a heartbeat.”


 

Devney lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.

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Tell Me a Story by Jennifer Rebecca ~ Blog Tour & Excerpt

George Washington Township, New Jersey has seen its fair share of crime and tragedy. Most recently, a young boy is missing from his home and the tenacious Detective Claire Goodnite is eager to find him.

But the case is stirring up old memories best left forgotten. When a blast from her own past, FBI Special Agent Wesley O’Connell, turns up, Claire finds it hard to keep old ghosts at rest. And even harder to keep the sexy SAIC out of her case and her bed.

Claire Goodnite is the best damn detective in the state of New Jersey and you better believe she’s coming for you.

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“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” I fake cry as I wipe away an imaginary tear with my fingers.

“You are such a pain in my ass, beautiful.” He shakes his head. “You’re lucky I know what else you can do with that mouth besides drive me to drink.”

“Ugh,” I groan. “You just ruined it.”

“You want to see it or not?”

“Are we still talking about your murder board or have we switched to your penis?” I ask sweetly. “Because yes to the murder board, maybe but leaning towards probably not for your penis. You’re being annoying and I’m over it.”

“Over it?” He laughs as he tackles me from the side. We land on a tufted leather sofa that I didn’t realize was hiding behind the door.

I let out an embarrassing squeak when Wes grabs me. Some tough chick I am. I land with my back to the sofa and Wes on top of me, his lip crushing down on mine. I can’t help it. I kiss him back. My mouth moving under his.

“Why do you fight it?” Wes asks when he tears his lips from mine. “Why do you fight me?”

“I can’t,” I say as I pull him back down to me. “I can’t fight anymore.” I kiss him again. I press my body to his. “I can’t.”

Wes presses his hips into mine. He groans when I buck against his hardness. His body provides the friction that I need in all the right places. I gasp when his cock rubs against me one more time and Wes uses that to his advantage, moving his mouth down to nip at my earlobe. He then drags his lips and scrapes his teeth down my neck where he bites, then soothes my skin with his lips and his tongue.

I pull at the buttons of his dress shirt. Wes sits back on his heels and undoes the rest of the buttons. I laugh when he pulls his white dress shirt free from his body only to realize that his blue tie is still tied around his neck.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” He asks with a sexy smirk playing on his lips.

“Uh huh.” I nod. “I do. I really do.” I laugh only to moan when he rocks his hips again and his hard length hits me in all the right places.

“Still think it’s funny?” He growls.

“Yes,” I rasp.

Wes reaches forward and pinches my nipple through my t-shirt and my bra. I arch my back pushing my breast into his palm. The movement presses my core against his cock and we both hiss at the contact.

“Still funny?” He asks as undoes the button on my jeans and pulls down the zipper. I hold my breath as he flattens his palm against my belly and slides his hands into my wet panties against my heat. “Well?”

“Yes,” I pant as I rock against him.

Wes slides two fingers deep inside me and I toss my head backwards and arch my spine. He curls his fingers in a come here motion and I am about to come undone. I’m about to come. Wes plays my body like he owns it and I’m beginning to think that he actually does.

“Is it still funny, Claire?” he asks one more time.

“Yes.” I buck against his hand. It’s not actually funny but all I can say is yes to Wes as my body shows me truths it has always known. It was always Wes. It will always be Wes.

“See, I don’t think it’s funny when you play games with me Claire,” he says his voice rough as he continues to fuck me with his hand. My heat pours between his fingers betraying how much I want him and how much control he actually has. “Do you think it’s fun to play games with me, Claire?”

“Yes,” I cry out but the words are wrong. He pulls his fingers out just enough that he’s not hitting the good spots anymore, but his other hand, flat against my belly, holds me still so I can’t use him to find my own completion. “No!” I wail.

“What is it, Claire?” He asks as he swirls his thumb gently against my clit. It’s just firm enough to make me moan, but not enough to get me anywhere.

“I’m not playing games!” I cry out, desperate to have him, his fingers, his mouth, his cock, any which way I can have him again.

“When are you going to learn that you can’t lie to me, Claire?” He asks as he thrusts his fingers back in, curling them as he goes, but he immediately pulls them back out. “Your body knows the truth. Feel how wet you are for me?” He asks as he wipes his fingers against my inner thighs.

“Please,” I beg.

“Please, what?” He commands. “Are you ready to stop fighting me, Claire?” He gives another gentle swirl to my clit.

“Yes!” I scream as he thrusts his fingers back in, this time adding his thumb to my clit.

I grab the tie that still hangs around his neck and pull it. It anchors me and is something I can hold onto while my world spins wildly out of control.

“That’s right, baby. Take it. Take what’s mine to give you.”

“Fuck! Wes—” He pumps his fingers again and again and then I arch my back and squeeze my eyes tight as I come.

Before my world starts to right itself and I can flutter my eyes, Wes grabs me by my hips and stands me at the arm of the sofa. My legs are still Jell-O and I flop around like April the giraffe’s baby. Wes quickly puts a hand to my back between my shoulder blades and arches me over the arm. My hands cushion my fall.

He uses his foot to spread my feet wide and I hear the telltale clink of his belt buckle and the grind of the teeth of his zipper. He still has his hand on my back and it burns my skin. Wes uses his fingers to circle my core. I look back over my shoulder at him and I see the proof of my climax glisten on his fingers. Wes sees me watching and circles my pussy again before holding his fingers up to the light.

“Do you see this?” He asks, his voice rough.

“Y-yes,” I stammer. I have to clear my throat before I can answer him clearly. “Yes.”

“This is mine, Claire,” he says. “This is for me and no one else. Not some asshole from the bar or one of the guys from the station. This is mine and mine alone. Do you understand?” He circles me again. He shoves his finger in deep when I hesitate and I groan.

“Yes,” I buck against his hand but he pulls his fingers free and swats my ass. Hard. “Yes! I understand,” I cry out when he slips his fingers in one last time.

I look over my shoulder again as Wes locks eyes with me. He swirls his fingers one last time before slipping them from my body. I watch with rapt attention as he raises his hand to his mouth and licks his fingers clean. His eyes roll back in his head and he moans. I could come from watching his face alone.

And then he opens his eyes.

“I always knew there was sweetness hidden in you somewhere, baby. I should have known it was in your tight pussy.”

Jennifer is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay.

Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta.

10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.

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Wrong Side of Heaven by Gia Riley ~ Excerpt Reveal

Broken Wings Duet is an all-new Forbidden and Emotional Romance releasing March 22nd and April 12th from Gia Riley!!

Some touched.

Some watched.

Some just talked to me.

They all had their vices.

Fear.
Betrayal.
Loss.

I’m trailer trash in the slums of Carillon.

Until I met him, the mysterious neighbor who speaks through handwritten notes. He never shows his face, only comes and goes late at night, and I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I shouldn’t want him.

I don’t need him.

But when I close my eyes, he’s all I see.

He’s my addiction. The secret I keep close to my heart.

But sometimes things aren’t what they seem, and secrets don’t stay secrets forever.

And together, we’re just two lost souls on the wrong side of heaven.

***  RELEASES MARCH 22  ***

One thunderstorm fades into another, and I keep my eyes on the stars, praying this one isn’t as bad as the last. It’s tornado season in Kansas—the only other force besides Tess that threatens me on a daily basis.

The crack of thunder is sharp, and the flashes of lightning so close together, I know it’s almost time to get in the closet. There’s no basement. No shelter to run to with a secret door to the underground. It’s just creaky floorboards, dust, and a protective layer of cotton pillows I bought at the dollar store.

If the storm were to pull the roof off the trailer, there’s not much else inside my room for the wind to whip around. The only other piece of furniture I own is a dresser. But I learned, whatever I put in there, Tess will take, so I keep my clothes in the trunk in the closet. The little bit of money I have is kept in a secret compartment in the floor. It’s not much, but I save every penny I earn from babysitting jobs around the trailer park.

Over the summer months, I try to pick up as many nights as I can because, without school, I spend too much time in the trailer. Too much time with Tess leads to problems.

Last night, we argued about my chest. She said my boobs were getting too big and that my mother probably had a matching set, just like all the other whores in town. If I knew anything about my mom, I’d disagree, but Tess could be right, so I didn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise.  

As much as I hate Tess, she’s all I have. When my dad died, Tess decided to keep me. She said something about the money from the government helping to pay the bills. I’m not stupid. I know all that money goes up her nose and feeds her habit.

Sometimes, when Tess is exceptionally bitchy, I almost wish I had gone into the foster system. At least then I’d have had a chance at happiness. Because living in Carillon is nothing but hell. A hell I can’t escape until I turn eighteen and graduate high school.

Three hundred sixty-four days separate me and freedom.

I am me. Alone and by myself.

When I said I would kill for her, I meant it. When I said I would die for her, I meant that, too.

But protection comes with a price and so does my life.

I can’t hold her.

I can’t speak to her.

I can’t even see her.

The most important piece of my life is gone.

I had everything.

I had Winnie.

And just like that, my unconditional love vanished.

Picking up the pieces is impossible.

There’s no easy way to fall out of love.

But that’s exactly what I have to do.

The Edge of Heaven is the emotional conclusion to Wrong Side of Heaven.

One jilted love story.

Four converging paths.

A brand new forever.

***  RELEASES APRIL 12 ***

 Author Gia Riley has been in love with writing romance since high school when she took her very first creative writing class. From the small but mighty state of Delaware, she’s a country girl at heart, traveling back to her roots in Pennsylvania as often as she can.

While New Adult and Contemporary romance have been her passion, she’s dabbled with more erotic plotlines lately, enjoying discovering the sexier side of love with each story she pens. After all, she’s a lover of all things romance – a firm believer that everyone deserves their

happily ever after no matter what it takes to get there.

When she’s not writing, you can find her roaming the aisles of Kirkland’s, up to her elbows in Play-doh, or trying to hunt down spoilers for her favorite reality television show.

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Crazy, Sexy, Love by KL Grayson ~ COVER REVEAL

Three-time world champion bull rider Rhett Allen has never been afraid to get his hands dirty. Hard work, sweat, and determination have gotten him where he is today—and that’s holed up in a hospital room, wondering how he let that damn bull buck him off. He’s also wondering why he thought it was a good idea to let his twin brother talk him into returning home to heal.

Rhett has a million reasons to come home to Heaven, Texas, and only one reason to stay away. That reason comes in the form of a sweet and feisty girl who stole his heart long before he ever thought to give it away. The only problem…that girl has turned into a stunning woman.

Monroe Gallagher is downright sexy with more curves than he has notches in his bed post. It’s been six years since he’s seen her, six years since he’s felt any form of peace, and six years since she gripped his heart in her delicate little hands and squeezed the life out of it. The longer he’s in Heaven, the more he starts to realize that the heart she took from him—the one she crushed into a million pieces—she also never gave back.

***  PREORDER NOW FOR THE SPECIAL PRICE OF $2.99  ***
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Title: Crazy Sexy Love
A Dirty Dicks Novel
Author: K.L. Grayson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Kari March Designs
Release Date: March 21, 2018

There are a few moments in my life that have left me breathless—falling off a bull for the first time in competition, getting kicked by a bull, the day Mo broke my heart, and subsequently, the moment she stole every piece of it back.

This moment.

She’s an angel, brought to Earth for the soul purpose of torturing me, and like the devil I am, I enjoy every minute of it.

Pulling her hair over one shoulder, Mo peeks at me. Her cheeks are stained the most delicious color of red as she slowly, deliberately lifts her shirt over her head. The flimsy material falls to the ground as she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. The straps slip down her arms before joining her shirt on the grassy bank of the pond, and when she shimmies out of her panties and jeans, I nearly lose it.

Her body is breathtaking, a work of art meant to be examined and explored, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets the privilege of doing just that.

I’ve seen Mo naked more times than I can count, but not once has it been like this. Not once has she seduced me with the soft sway of her hips or this hungry look in her eyes.

She’s no longer the girl I knew all those years ago. She’s turned into a beautiful, confident woman who I want to lay before me again. She’s all-consuming: the rise and fall of her chest as she turns to face me, the goosebumps that scatter over her arms when my gaze traces her body, and the vulnerability in her eyes as she comes over to join me on the blanket.

I hold out my hand. Her fingers lace with mine as she straddles my legs and lowers herself to her knees.
Her hand, gentle and steady, cups the side of my face. “There might be six years of pain between us, but nothing has changed. I feel the same way today as I did back then.” She hooks her fingers under the hem of my shirt, dragging it over my head, being extra careful with my shoulder. “And I can’t wait another second to be with you, Rhett.” She smiles. “In fact, I need it more than I need my next breath.”

“Mo.” I push my fingers into her hair, pulling her face to mine, and I kiss her with everything I have. Her tongue pushes between my lips, and we kiss until we’re both panting and breathless.

With her forehead pressed to mine, she searches my eyes. I let her see everything—all the pain and love and happiness she’s brought me. With her hands on my chest, she gently pushes me back onto the blanket. Her hair falls forward, brushing against my chest, creating a curtain. She kisses me once, twice, and then a third time before scooting back. My boots and socks are the first to go, followed by my jeans.

*** CLICK HERE TO READ THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER!  ***

K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, MO. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband, who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palms of six dirty little hands, and when the day is over and those pint-sized cherubs have been washed and tucked into bed, you can find her typing away furiously on her computer. She has a love for alpha-males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings…and not particularly in that order.

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Then There Was You by Claire Contreras ~ Blog Tour & Excerpt

Then There Was You, an all-new second chance romance from New York Times bestselling author Claire Contreras is LIVE!

Love and the right timing were two things I didn’t believe in.

Love is about walking to the edge of the cliff and taking the leap together.
Timing was never on our side.
My first mistake was hooking up with my best friend.
My second came years later, when we met again, and I fell for her.
My third was letting her go, because I had to. Because a love like this wasn’t built to withstand the winds coming in our direction.

Love and timing.

I didn’t believe in either.

Then there was you . . .

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“There’s no one at my parent’s house except for me.” He raised an eyebrow. “My brother is moving from his apartment to a bigger house, so he’s been going by there to pick up the last of his things, but that’s about it. I’ve barely seen him.”

I frowned. “So why are you staying there?” And where were his parents living? I didn’t want to ask this, of course, but I was dying to know.

“I’m waiting for construction on my apartment building to be complete. It should be move-in ready by October.”

“Hm.”

All sorts of questions popped into my head, but I pushed them aside. They’d go unasked because I didn’t want to answer any more of his. Thankfully, he clicked for the iron gates that guarded his house to open and drove in, not pushing for an answer. My eyes stayed glued on those gates as we drove past them. They were like something out of a Richie-Rich movie, those gates, black with a gold emblem in the center. I’d seen them countless times, pushed them open in the middle of the night more times than I could count. I tore my eyes away and looked up at the house. I hadn’t expected to feel such gripping emotion over a damn gate, but I guess some things never stop piercing your heart, no matter how much time passed.

“I’ll be right out.”

I nodded once and leaned against the seat before he jogged inside. I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how my trip had gone from closing a chapter in my life to being stuck in the middle of my epilogue. When Grandma Joan called me with a guilt trip, telling me to come spend a couple of weeks with her, I’d taken her up on the offer for two reasons: I was the only one left who hadn’t packed her room and taken the boxes to the storage unit, and I missed her and this place. I missed the days I used to come here and feel like I was home. I missed the slow pace that came with a life here in Ithaca, nestled inside the city, but surrounded by nature and the water.

Thinking about those days also brought memories of Rowan. Kissing Rowan, holding hands with him, laughing with him in our canoes, but with the positive came the negative. He and I were never meant to be more than friends, and even friends was questionable. Friends didn’t lie or omit important things. My eyes popped open when I heard the front door shut. I watched him take the steps two at a time and stride toward me.

He slid into the driver’s seat, dropped one of the two bottles of water he’d been carrying into my lap, and shot me a wink. I scowled, clutching the water and facing forward. Just because I’d taken him up on the ride didn’t mean we were suddenly going to be chums again. Far from it. I wouldn’t fall for those mischievous eyes. I wouldn’t fall for the panty-dropping grin either. I wouldn’t fall. Not again.

My Way Back to You (Second Chances #2)
Publication Date: March 15th, 2018

Synopsis coming soon!!

***  PREORDER TODAY  ***

PREORDER My Way Back to You on Barnes & Noble or iBooks for release on March 13th!
This title will not be available for purchase on iBooks or Nook after March 13th.

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Releases on March 15th on AMAZON and AVAILABLE in KINDLE UNLIMITED
Preorder on AMAZON on March 1st!

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Claire Contreras is a New York Times Best Selling Author. Her books range from romantic suspense to contemporary romance and are currently translated in seven different languages.

She lives in Miami, Fl with her husband, two adorable boys, three bulldogs, and two stray cats that she refuses to admit are hers (even though they live on her porch, she named them, and continues to feed them). When she’s not writing, she’s usually lost in a book.

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One Last Time by Corinne Michaels ~ Sarah A’s Review

From New York Times bestselling author, Corinne Michaels, comes a new heartwarming standalone romance.

I’m getting really good at cutting my losses.

First, the husband. Divorcing him was the best decision I ever made. But between single-parenting and job-hunting, I can’t catch my breath. When a celebrity blogging position falls into my lap, I’m determined to succeed.

That is, until I get my first assignment and actually see Noah Frazier for the first time . . . practically naked and dripping wet. My heart races and I forget how to form complete sentences. His chiseled abs, irresistible smirk, and crystal blue eyes are too perfect to be real. So, what do I do? Get drunk and humiliate myself, of course.

I’m ready to forget the awkward night, yet Noah has no intention of allowing me to move on. Instead, he arranges for me to write a feature on him, ensuring a lot more time together. One embarrassing moment after another, one kiss after another, and before I can stop myself, I realize—I’m falling in love with him.

But when the unthinkable happens, can I even blame him for cutting his losses?

What I wouldn’t give for just one last time . . .

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review here

Before I can make a move either way, the glass door slides open and Noah walks through the threshold.

My legs start to quiver as his eyes meet mine. All I can think about is how I’d like to climb him like a tree and shake his coconuts. I thought he was hot in the photo, then he was better through the window, but up close, he’s otherworldly.

“Hi.” Noah’s throaty voice floats around me. “You must be Kristin.”

Instead of speaking, I stand here with my mouth hanging open. Some small sounds that could be words escape, but they aren’t coherent.

Kill me now.

“Noah, this is my best friend, Kristin. Who we told you about.” Heather elbows me.

“Yes. Me. Hi. Kristin. I. You. Hi.”

Smooth. Someone should video this because I’m sure it’s highly entertaining.

“Right.” Noah flashes a blinding smile. “I hear you’re a reporter?”

Okay, Kristin, you have to speak in more than one-word increments or grunting noises.

I grab Heather’s glass she just poured and hope it’ll act as a talisman. “Yes, for a small blog, but I’m that. A reporter. For a blog. I write.”

And a bumbling idiot.

Noah’s green eyes are filled with humor. He moves a little closer and places his hand on top of mine. “Eli filled me in a little. I’m happy I came.”

I’m pretty sure I just came. At least we’re all coming.

“Me, too.”

His lips turn up as his eyes rake my body. “See you out there.” He winks and walks back out.

My ovaries have officially disintegrated.

I turn back to Heather, who bursts out into a fit of laughter. “Oh, that was epic. You all said I was starstruck when I met Eli? You should’ve seen that!” Heather continues to laugh at my expense. “Yes. Me. Um. Blog. Er—” She mocks.

“Shut up.” I laugh—because, really, what else can I do—and bump her hip before moving around the bar and grabbing a glass. “Now, pour me a shot before I drink straight from the bottle.”

There’s only one way to get through tonight.

Alcohol.

Lots of Alcohol.

New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Corinne Michaels is the author of nine romance novels. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.

After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.

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Heart Stronger by Rachel Blaufeld ~ Blog Tour

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m watching a movie . . . that it’s not really me, Claire Richards, getting this second chance at life.”

“Open your eyes, it’s you, and I’m damn glad it’s with me.” ~ Aiken

Single mom and college professor Claire Richards only wanted a few hours of me time to soak in her tub, read a book, and drink wine.

But tragedy struck, and Claire found herself with a lot more me time than she bargained for.

Three years later, Claire is still mourning her losses when Aiken Fordham—who looks young enough to be one of her college students—moves in next door.

Forcing Claire to face her fears, Aiken almost forgets his reason for moving to Small Town, Pennsylvania. Falling for the sexy, smart, and strong professor next door was never in the plan.

But now it is . . . until their future intersects with their pasts.

 

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The downpour stopped just as I did, soaked in rain and sweat. Rolling my neck, I took in my house. It was cute. Too cute for a single dude, but it was all fixed up, and I wasn’t in the mood for a renovation project.

I bent over to stretch, touching my toes, and before I could stand up, Smitty was at my feet, tail wagging, tongue lolling, begging to be petted.

“Smitty!” Claire came running out her front door, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing tight black pants and a fitted green blouse. No shoes. She stopped in front of me, and I noticed her pink toes and tanned feet.

“Smitty, bad boy! You can’t leave the house.” She grabbed his collar and tugged him to her side.

“S’okay.” Wetness seeped into my eyes, and I swatted it away, making the burn worse. Squinting and blinking, I remained focused on the woman in front of me, and all woman she was. There wasn’t one girlish thing about my neighbor, and no—before you think it—I didn’t have mommy issues.

I had lean-muscular-legs and pouty-lips issues, both of which Claire had in earnest. Not to mention, I had a separate thing for independence after growing up around all these farming wives, who basically did all the heavy lifting for none of the credit. Then there was my dad, unable to move on, the epitome of lost.

“Don’t say that. He can’t be running out of the house.” Her breath was short at this point; she was almost panting. “He’s all I have.” It was a whisper of a sentence, but I heard it. Fuck it, I felt it. I got pain. Hated anyone else having to experience it.

She was eaten up with pain, but kept her head up—I could tell. I wanted to crack her veneers, let the pain ooze out, and see her smile in earnest.

Deep shit for a young guy, but I’d grown up fast. Like in the last forty-eight hours.

“I put my hand out to feel if it was still raining, and he bolted as soon as he saw you,” she continued to explain.

“Like I said, I’m cool with Smitty, but I get it. He can’t be escaping.”

“Thanks for understanding.” She stood, prim and proper, her gaze heavy on the concrete, clearly avoiding any direct eye contact.

“You okay, Claire? I’m sorry about last night.”

“I’m fine.” She turned back toward her house.

“Claire, listen, we got off to a bad start. Can we start over? Aiken Fordham, nice to meet you.” I held my hand out, flexing my bicep, waiting for her to return the favor.

“Claire Richards.” She took my hand, her smaller, dainty, and way smoother hand slipping into mine.

“Ugh. What do you want, Aiken? Look at you, shirtless, dripping from running in the rain.” Her hand whipped out of mine and began whisking up and down in the air, motioning at my very naked torso. “What could you possibly want from me? If you need an egg or a stick of butter, pop next door. Otherwise, let me be. I need to get out of here and beg Mary to give me a class full of students, probably not much older than you.” She alternated between eyeing me and her disobedient dog.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire,” I called, running up behind her. “And I’m a warm-blooded man, who’ll probably never have a need for a stick of butter. I’m a big boy. I know how to find a grocery store. All by myself too.”

She flung open her door and motioned Smitty inside. He stood at the screen door, staring us down with sad doggie eyes.

“Is there something wrong with getting to know my neighbor? I don’t know anyone here. Maybe you could be neighborly? Or are you so closed off you can’t do that? Because if so, that’s a damn shame,” I said through gritted teeth. Admittedly, I was more frustrated than I should have been. I was a man who desperately wanted the broken woman in front of me.

Rachel Blaufeld is a bestselling author of Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Coming-of-Age Romance, and Sports Romance. A recent poll of her readers described her as insightful, generous, articulate, and spunky. Originally a social worker, Rachel creates broken yet redeeming characters. She’s been known to turn up the angst like cranking up the heat in the dead of winter.

A devout coffee drinker and doughnut eater, Rachel spends way too many hours in local coffee shops, downing the aforementioned goodies while she plots her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end as lusciously as her treats.

As a side note, Blaufeld, also a long-time blogger and an advocate of woman-run anything, is fearless about sharing her opinion. She captured the ears of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog, BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and running a business, often at the same time. To her, work/life/family balance is an urban legend, but she does her best.

Rachel has also blogged for The Huffington Post and Modern Mom. Most recently, her insights can be found in USA TODAY, where she shares conversations at “In Bed with a Romance Author” and reading recommendations over at “Happy Ever After.”

Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two beagles. Her obsessions include running, coffee, basketball, icing-filled doughnuts, antiheroes, and mighty fine epilogues.

When she isn’t writing, she can be found courtside, tweeting about hoops as her son plays, or walking around the house wearing earplugs while her other son, the drummer, bangs away.

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