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.


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.

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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.


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 . . .

*** Available in KINDLE UNLIMITED  ***
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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.”


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 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.


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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Baby Daddy by Kendall Ryan ~ Excerpt Reveal

hot and hilarious new standalone from New York Times bestseller Kendall Ryan.

We met in a trapped elevator.

Emmett was on his way to work, sophisticated and handsome in his tailored suit and tie.

I was on my way to the sperm bank. Awkward, right?

At thirty-five, my life hadn’t taken the path I thought it would and I was tired of waiting—I wanted a baby. And I was ready to take matters into my own hands to make it happen.

After our ill-fated elevator encounter, Emmett insisted on taking me to dinner—he also insisted on something else—that I ditch my plan involving a turkey baster and let him do the job. He would be my baby daddy. He was a wealthy and powerful CEO with little interest in diapers or playdates. And since he didn’t want kids, I’d be on my own once his bun was in my oven, free to go my own way.

But once his baby was inside me, it was like a switch had been flipped, and I got a whole lot more than I ever bargained for.

This full-length standalone contains a hot, swoonworthy hero, lots of playful banter and some hot baby-making ! Enjoy.

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I love my dick.

That’s a fact.

And I’m not afraid to admit he’s both my best friend and my most trusted advisor. Sure, he’s gotten me into some tight spots over the years—pun very much intended—but that’s what makes life fun, right? I wouldn’t trade our relationship for the world. He stands tall and proud . . . and when he spots something he likes? He bobs with pleasure, begging to get closer.

And as for me? Well, I trust his judgment. Completely. He didn’t bob for the stunning and funny Laura in accounting. I knew there was a reason, and as it turns out, she’s a bit of a klepto. Three hundred seventy-two staplers kind of klepto.

But I’m not a total douchebag, I promise. I’m just a young CEO under immense pressure, so in my downtime, blowing off steam is practically a necessity. It’s my duty to keep my dick happy, and a steady diet of beautiful women keeps us both satisfied. I do what I can to make his life as simple and as easy as possible. Plenty of no-strings sex does the trick.

I find that when he’s well taken care of, I feel better and my brain works efficiently. Shit, my whole life just seems easier.

It’s that simple. I love my dick, and loving my dick makes my entire life better.

When my dick perks up in interest, begging for a taste of the woman we’re stranded with in a stuck elevator for two hours, I listen to his dirtiest wishes and ask her out to dinner. But the last thing I expect her to say is that she’s not interested in my dick. She’s just interested in the stuff inside, the stuff that can give her the baby she so desperately wants. No strings attached.

Who am I to say no?

Welcome to the craziest ride my dick’s ever gotten me into.

A New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of more than two dozen titles, Kendall Ryan has sold over 1.5 million books and her books have been translated into several languages in countries around the world. She’s a traditionally published author with Simon & Schuster and Harper Collins UK, as well as an independently published author. Since she first began self-publishing in 2012, she’s appeared at #1 on Barnes & Noble and iBooks charts around the world. Her books have also appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than three dozen times. Ryan has been featured in such publications as USA Today, Newsweek, and InTouch Magazine.

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NOW AVAILABLE!! Nobody Does It Better by Lexi Blake

A spy who specializes in seduction

Kayla Summers was an elite CIA double agent, working inside China’s deadly MSS. Now, she works for McKay-Taggart London, but the Agency isn’t quite done with her. Spy master Ezra Fain needs her help on a mission that would send her into Hollywood’s glamorous and dangerous party scene. Intrigued by the mission and the movie star hunk she will be shadowing, she eagerly agrees. When she finds herself in his bed, she realizes she’s not only risking her life, but her heart.

A leading man who doesn’t do romance

Joshua Hunt is a legend of the silver screen. As Hollywood’s highest paid actor, he’s the man everyone wants to be, or be with, but something is missing. After being betrayed more than once, the only romance Josh believes in anymore is on the pages of his scripts. He keeps his relationships transactional, and that’s how he likes it, until he meets his new bodyguard. She was supposed to keep him safe, and satisfied when necessary, but now he’s realizing he may never be able to get enough of her.

An ending neither could have expected

Protecting Joshua started off as a mission, until it suddenly felt like her calling. When the true reason the CIA wanted her for this assignment is revealed, Kayla will have to choose between serving her country or saving the love of her life.

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Her eyes came up, a flash of recognition there. “Yes?”

“Are you going to sign the contract or do you have more questions?”

She picked up the pen sitting on top of the contracts that would bind the two of them together for the next six months. They would reevaluate the relationship at that point in time, but for the next six months, she was his. His bodyguard. His submissive.

Bought and properly paid for. He would take care of her and she would give him what he needed.

She signed with a flourish and sat back, a gleam of curiosity in her eyes.

He was curious, too, and there was zero reason to not satisfy their curiosity. Hard and soft limits had been gone over. They would find their communication style as they went along. But first she should understand that he was in control.

“Come sit on my lap.”

She didn’t hesitate. She stood and turned, shifting so she could maneuver her way onto his lap.

Her weight came down on him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. Damn but she made him feel big. He’d seen her take out a man twice her size, but sitting here in his lap she felt small and vulnerable, and fuck him but that did it for him.

He slid a hand along her knee, letting himself indulge in the silky smooth feel of her skin against his palm. “Did you do as I asked?”

He was well aware his voice had gone husky, deeper than normal.

“Yes, Joshua.” She squirmed the tiniest bit, as though trying to find a comfortable position. It might be difficult for her because she was sitting right on his cock, and it was harder and thicker than he could ever remember it being.

“How can I trust you?” This was all part of the game he loved so much. Here he could let go and play out the darker of his impulses—to control, to take, to possess. See. Want. Have.

“You’ll have to check,” she replied. “Though shouldn’t we go inside?”

He reached out and picked up his cell with his free hand, pushing one number and connecting to the security room. He put them on speaker. She needed to understand what she was up against in order for the game to be fair. “Landon?”

“This is Burke,” the deep voice replied. “Shane’s on patrol. What can I do for you?”

“Burke, I would like to fuck my submissive on the third-floor balcony. Is anyone watching us? Can you see any cameras pointed our way?”

A low, masculine chuckle came across the line. “No, Mr. Hunt. And given the angle relative to the beach, you should enjoy your evening without worry. The only peepers I would worry about would be your next door neighbor, and Jared is out for the night.”

“I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t. Keep up the good work.” He hung up and his hand tightened. “I would prefer when we’re playing that you don’t question me like that. I know where I want to fuck you. I know when I want to fuck you, and I’m in charge. If I want you in the middle of a crowded freeway, your only response is a yes or a no. Not to question me.”

She seemed to relax back against him, as though she was giving up the struggle and choosing to submit. “Yes, Joshua. Yes, I understand, and yes to the sex. Please.”

He liked the breathy little please and loved how she squirmed. Still, he wasn’t absolutely sure she’d obeyed him, and he was a man who required proof. He slid his hand up her thigh. “Spread your legs for me.”


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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Hate Me by LP Lovell ~ Excerpt Reveal

Hate Me is an all-new emotional mafia romance by LP Lovell coming February 26th!


I am a whore. A slave. A possession. I accepted my fate long ago, but fate is not done with me yet. Freedom is so close I can almost taste it, only to have it snatched away under the guise of protection. A guilded cage is still a cage. Friend or foe? Saviour or oppressor? Rafael D’Cruze is a bad man. I hate him, so why do I feel safe with him?


She’s a favour. Collateral. A pretty slave. I have no interest in her beyond keeping her alive for the man who now owns her. And yet…I’m fascinated by the little Russian. There is no room for weakness in my world, but it appears the delicate rose has steel petals. I’m willing to bleed for a willing touch, a trusting glance…

A broken little bird. The big bad wolf. A longing that could heal or destroy.

Hate me or hold me?

“Tell me, sweet Anna, what would you do if you were to have your freedom?”

My mind hits a wall, and my mouth snaps shut. “I don’t know.”

“You never thought about it?”

“I survived because I refused to hope. So no, I never thought about it.”

He takes a piece of my hair, twirling it around his finger until the gold strands are wrapped tightly around his tanned skin. “Well, maybe you should start thinking about it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I breathe. Being free would mean leaving him, leaving my safe harbor to walk into a world of danger and enemies.

I take his face in both hands and stare into his eyes, my lips hovering barely an inch away from his. I find myself dancing with this sense of curiosity, remembering the way his lips felt on mine. Soft and yet hard. Demanding and yet never forceful. That kind of kiss is something I’ve never experienced, and…I liked it. I liked it with him.

“Take it, Anna,” he breathes. I swallow heavily and swipe my tongue over my suddenly dry lips. Rafael lets out a tiny groan, his hand cupping my cheek as he swipes a thumb over the corner of my lip. “Take what you want, avecita.” He somehow manages to make it sound like a threat. I slowly close the gap between us until my lips brush his. He doesn’t move, waiting for me to kiss him. As I press my lips fully to his, I feel a sense of empowerment. To have a man like Rafael willingly submissive to my exploration… My hand slides around his neck and my tongue brushes his bottom lip, making him tense.

Taking my face, he holds me away from him as his warm breaths wash over my lips. I feel the blush creep over my cheeks. “Did I do something wrong?”

He groans again. “No. Fuck, no.” He throws his head back against the chair. “Anna, you have no idea how tempting you are.” I freeze, my pulse leaping in my throat. “No. Don’t do that. I’m not them, avecita. I will never touch you unless you want it.”


He smiles. “I’d promise you the world if I could, little warrior.”

“And what if I can’t offer you a single thing in return?”

He leans in, placing the softest kiss against my throat. “From you, sweet Anna, I would ask only for a smile.”

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologize for afterwards.
She’s a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy. 

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Gentleman Nine by Penelope Ward ~ Excerpt Reveal

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new, sexy standalone novel.

Growing up, the three of us were friends.
He was the nerd.
I was the playboy.
She was the beauty.

Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits.

He lied.

I went off to college, and he got the girl.
Amber never knew how I felt.
They were together for years—before he broke her heart.

Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch.
When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.

Still reeling from her breakup, she’d sworn off men.

One night, I opened her computer to find the shock of my life. She’d hesitantly contacted a male escort company. Afraid to date and get her heart broken again, she was looking for sex with no strings.
Every emotion imaginable ran through me: protectiveness, jealousy—curiosity.
Amber had chosen Gentleman Number Nine and sent him a message.
She opened up to him, confessing, among other things, her physical attraction to her friend—me. But she considered me off-limits—and she thought I was a manwhore. (Ironic, considering the circumstances.)

Eventually, she set up a date to meet Gentleman Nine at a hotel.
When she showed up several nights later to meet him, she got the surprise of her life to see me standing there—with an offer I hoped she wouldn’t refuse.

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*No Amazon e-book preorder. Will go live on/around release day.
~Sign up to be alerted when it goes live on Amazon here~


Is that what your friends call you? I like that. Thanks for the answers.

That’s an interesting question—why tonight of all nights? Well, I saw my ex tagged on Facebook with another woman, and that put me over the edge. But it’s more than that. Lately, I’ve developed a strong attraction to a good friend of mine, and that’s sort of screwing with me a bit. He’s actually temporarily living in my condo, but he’s someone I’ve known for years. I’ve always thought he was extremely handsome, but it’s complicated. He and I would not be a good match romantically. He’s not the monogamous type, or at least, he never used to be. We’re better off as friends. He was also the best friend of my ex years back, so there’s that. Having him around, though, has made me more sensitized to my sexual desires. Little things like the waft of his scent, the way he touches the small of my back when he passes by me in the kitchen…it’s like my body is on this constant state of alert. So, I was thinking if I could just—for lack of a better word—get laid, maybe I could get this feeling out of my system.


My jaw was open as I just sat there staring at the screen.

Holy shit.

I read it again.

And again.

And again.

I honestly didn’t think that Amber felt that way about me. She would always make jokes about me being good-looking, but her attraction to Rory proved that her taste wasn’t exactly conventional. Now, I really felt like shit for invading her privacy, because there was no way she would’ve been okay with confessing that to me. I never imagined any of this had to do with me. I’d assumed it was solely about Rory.

She wanted to use another man to f*ck me out of her system?

That revelation left me shocked and confused—not to mention hard as f*ck thinking about the fact that Amber wanted me.

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author of thirteen novels. With over a million books sold, her titles have placed on the New York Times Bestseller list sixteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband, and kids reside in Rhode Island.

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