Serena Burton is a shy and disillusioned young English woman holidaying on the Mediterranean island of Malta finds romance with the hotel manager, Luigi Coletti. She also finds herself deeply involved in the life of an elderly writer, Louisa Weston.
As Serena gradually discovers Louisa’s strange past she is drawn into a tangled web of hidden mysteries which are slowly uncovered, but at a high price…
A Tangled Web – Extract 1
“Not a very nice evening” said Mr. Coletti the hotel manager, when Serena approached the desk to leave her keys.
“I’m just going for a short walk before dinner,” she replied shyly.
“Better take an umbrella then.”
“I don’t think I’ll bother,” she laughed. “I won’t be too long anyway.”
She stepped outside and cautiously looked right and left before crossing the road onto the sea side promenade. Ominous dark clouds were gathering fast in the horizon and grayish blue waves splashed angrily against the white rocks, spraying her lips with salty droplets.
Serena was no stranger to this small Mediterranean island, but she had always come at the peak of hot and dry summers when the blinding brightness of the sky merged with the staggering azure blue of the sea. She never expected in a million years to find this sort of unremitting British drizzle soaking her hair through and through, nor an icy wind blowing on her face and making her eyes watery.
She looked in disbelief at the threatening sky and hoped the drizzle would not worsen. Forcibly she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then walked briskly with her head down. She stopped abruptly out of breath and leaned against the silvery railings that ran all along in a wide bend. What on earth possessed her to come over here in the middle of this bleak and unusually cold winter? It was less than three weeks since she had that terrible row with Harry after catching him cheating with her best friend Susan. Seething with anger she broke off their engagement, but was so wretched and miserable that she felt like crawling in a dark corner or disappearing from the face of the earth.
A few days later, a stupid argument at work exploded into a major crisis. Full of hurt pride, she rebuffed any words of sympathy offered by her boss, and promptly resigned from her position as private secretary with a reputable industrial firm. She immediately moved out of her cozy little apartment in Putney and grabbed one of those last minute holiday deals to the island of Malta, where they offered travelers four weeks for the price of three. Perhaps the change of scenery would help her get over the emotional roller-coaster ride she was on. A relaxing getaway may lead to a fresh start. She had to try.
The promenade was almost deserted and the vast expanse of turbulent water was swelling under the blustery wind. Serena was so dejected and full of self-pity that her eyes filled with tears, but no matter where or when, the sea had always a soothing effect on her. Unlike a desert where its vastness and desolate emptiness exudes fear and wonder, the sea with its interchangeable moods of calm and rough had a mysticism of its own which for some unknown reason Serena was the most comfortable near it. And this kind of weather perfectly suited her present frame of mind.
Her tears were washed away by the rain and she tightly gripped the metal railing that ran the length of the promenade until her fingers hurt. She inhaled the fresh, revitalizing ozone bringing her back to life. Serena was about to turn back, when at a distance she glimpsed the shape of a man sitting on one of the rocks protruding into the sea at the base of the low cliffs beneath where she was standing. Against the darkening sky he looked more like a gray shadow, yet she could still notice a sort of naval cap pulled down below his forehead and a few shiny buttons glittering on a dark reefer coat.
Normally her first reaction would be to run in the opposite direction, but a compelling urge pushed her forward to that blurred figure, and her imagination started to run wild. Was he a seaman home on leave after a long exotic voyage? Or, was he simply a stranger who, like her, was taking a stroll, indifferent to the elements? The man seemed totally unaware of her presence and was focusing only on the foaming sea. The incandescent light of a pale moon came peeping through the thick clouds, and for an instant, two very dark eyes stared blankly back at Serena.
A gust of wind forced her to turn away and, when she looked back, the man seemed to have vanished. Had he gone down the other side of the rocks, or was her imagination playing tricks?
With a deep sigh, she tied her white woolen scarf firmly under her chin and resumed her brisk walk to the hotel just in time to change for dinner.
A Tangled Web – Extract 2
The coastal road leading to the coves of Wied-iz-Zurrieq, a small fishing village on the western side of the island, was very steep and narrow but the view from up there was magnificent. At one point he stopped the car so that Serena could admire at leisure the rugged landscape unfolding down below. She gasped with unexpected pleasure at the breathtaking scenery. Her cheeks were all pink from the freshening breeze and she looked absolutely ravishing. Luigi almost gave in to the temptation of proposing to her then and there. However, as he thought of his carefully detailed event to come he resisted and cautiously walked toward the bay.
“Bonjù” the old fisherman from whom he had pre-rented the boat, greeted them with a toothless smile.
“Good morning Salvino, are we ready?”
“Ready when you are sir.”
Luigi helped Serena into the boat and took hold of the oars. “We shall be about an hour,” he said to the old man as he started to row energetically in order to get away from the scorching midday sun.
As soon as they entered the cavern, the coolness of the rock walls made them feel more relaxed. The water appeared as smooth as glass and reflected like a mirror the brilliant phosphorescent colors of underwater flora. Luigi sat back unmoving and let the craft drift smoothly along.
“What do you think?” he asked with a smug gesture of grandeur as if he owned the place.
Serena bent over to cup in her hands the pure crystalline water and sighed on seeing how the water gave the appearance of being a pale blue hue rather than transparent. “You are right, it is quite spectacular.”
Luigi was fighting his anxiety and waited for the right moment to speak. He had purposely chosen a mid-week day to avoid the tourist crowd, but there were still too many boats around. He feared his romantic proposal would not work the way he had planned it.
Spotting a smaller, deserted cave, he casually rowed into it. A faint ray of sunlight coming through the arched opening revealed a multitude of tiny multi-colored crystals shining brilliantly on the wet walls. They seemed to mirror the diamond ring he had chosen at his father’s jewelry shop in Valetta several weeks earlier was burning a hole in Luigi’s pocket.
“It’s very beautiful indeed although strangely kind of spooky as well,” said Serena shivering slightly at the thought and experiencing a niggling tingle at the back of her neck. Luigi’s deep blue eyes seemed to grow darker and darker like a whirlpool in which she was drowning, and for a split second his face seemed to disappear and a gray shadow jumped out of the boat… With a frightening yelp Serena recoiled in horror and looked around as if searching for something in the water. She was shaking quite noticeably and vaguely aware Luigi was speaking to her as he moved position to sit next to her making the boat rock a bit.
“Serena! Serena! What is it? Have I offended you in any way?”
“No, no, I’m alright.” she whispered still in a daze.
He lightly touched her chin to turn her face towards him. “How do you really feel about me, Serena? You must know I’m in love with you. I thought you felt the same?”
“I don’t really know how I feel or where I stand right now, Luigi,” she mumbled still shaken by her eerie vision. “Things at the villa are not working out the way I expected, and I might very well decide to go back home after all.” She was stalling and she knew it, still determined not to make any commitments she might regret.
“We better go back,” he said reluctantly.
The journey to the villa was excruciatingly silent and unbearable. As they reached the gates of her new home Luigi leaned across to open the door rather than getting out and opening it for Serena.
“I’ll call you,” he said, then as soon as she had stepped out of the car drove off at high speed.
Serena stood on the pavement with a knot in her stomach. Why did she behave so stupidly when in reality she liked him so much? Would she ever see Luigi again or, had she lost the only true friend she had? She went inside with a heavy sense of foreboding. She didn’t understand why since arriving on the island she was beginning to experience such strange hallucinations from alleged apparitions at the rocks in Sliema to the ghostly image which had materialized out of Luigi’s eyes just an hour or so earlier. Should she perhaps see a doctor about it?
From the day she arrived on the island, her life seemed to have been taken over by a power beyond her control and she felt trapped within her own Calypso Cave. What was the meaning of all this? If by some inexplicable reason her destiny was to be linked to this tiny foreign land, was not Luigi meant to be part of it?
Viviane Elisabeth Borg (née Fleri)was born in Alexandria, Egypt on 15th January 1925 at a time when the Country was under a ruling monarchy which permitted a predominant European influence to flourish. This gave Egypt and Alexandria in particular a distinctive cosmopolitan and flamboyant lifestyle. Despite being born British of Maltese descent she had a totally Italian upbringing and received an extensive French education at the French Lycée. Being a great lover of poetry and literature she aspired at becoming a writer but her studies were cut short as World War II erupted over Europe. She married on 26th October 1946 and gave birth to three children. In 1952 her husband, Hubert, obtained a managerial position at a shipping agency at the small town of Port Said. They lived there happily until political disruptions between the Egyptian government and Anglo-French interests in the Suez Canal Zone resulted in military intervention. The result of the week-long conflict in 1956, which became known in history as the Suez Crisis, forced the evacuation of all European nationals out of Egypt. Viviane and her family were compelled to abandon their home and all assets and leave their country as political refugees. They set up a new home in London where they became a magnet for the rest of their family.
In 1997 she wrote and self-published a memoir entitled When the Wind Blows. Proceeds from the sale of the book were donated to Cancer Research in memory of Hubert who died of bowel cancer in 1989. Poetic Whispers a poetry anthology was published on Smashwords in 2013. A Tangled Web is her only other completed book. Viviane now resides in the south of France near Cannes.
Twitter: @ VivianeEBorg1
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Excerpt 3: ADULT CONTENT
April Emerson moved to New York City after graduating from college with a degree in literature . As a nature lover, living in the city was a culture shock, but she soon began to enjoy being surrounded by so much energy. Submerged in perpetual crowds, April developed a fondness for people watching, which inspired her to start writing. Drawn to both the light and dark of humanity, she strives to tell sexy and romantic stories with exquisitely complex characters. When she isn’t writing, she loves listening to music or reading a good book while enjoying a glass of wine.
From the immortal kingdom of the Samurai, Imperial Leader Yokami Sukani and his wife Tomoe Gazen yearn for the child they know they will never birth. Tomoe’s Katana keens bereft, for the next Daughter of the Sword. Meanwhile, Bishamon, the God of War, and his Katana, wreak havoc in his endless pursuit of pain and suffering.
Bishamon’s Sword of War must disappear, forever.
The battle of Culloden Moor is forty-eight hours away. Epona, Goddess of horses, dogs, healing springs and crops, prays for the coming of the girl child prophesized to be born with the Sight for the magnificent Friesian horses.
Yokami’s Katana recognises Marie MacDonald.
A bargain is struck.
In modern Australia, the awaited one, Connor MacDonald is birthed, awakening the ancient Scottish Horsemen from their three-century slumber.
Brutality finds her.
Bishamon, mad with rage, hunts for his blade.
Will he regain his instrument of destruction?
Born of the blood of the ancient Scots, named Daughter by the immortal Samurai, doubly blessed or doubly cursed, will Connor MacDonald be Bishamon’s instrument of revenge?
14 April, 1746
The morning was cold when Yokami materialized on the Highland soil of the Scots. Cutting, frigid wind buffeted his imperial robes as he walked toward a giant monolith split almost in two by the force of an ancient earthquake. The downpour of rain shrouded the early morning sunshine. Snow-capped mountains appeared grey and hostile in the fog and the cloudburst. His thoughts were of Bishamon and whatever chaos he was creating back at the Imperial palace.
In the distance, a tall woman dressed in a long drab homespun dress walked through the heather, seemingly oblivious to the rain and the cold. Over her arm, she carried a basket. Her long blonde hair was wound up in a bun from which tendrils had escaped to curl around her face. The bite of the chill wind made her cheeks the colour of roses. Praise to the Masters, she was beautiful.
Fading to invisibility, he tucked the Sword of War, wrapped in ceremonial silk wraps as befitting its importance, under his arm. The blade was warm against his side. The woman bent over to pick some plants and added them to her basket, when the purr of his Katana vibrated along his back, signalling its welcome. The woman’s head shot up abruptly, then she stared in his direction. Although she could not see him, she squinted like someone trying to peer through peasoup fog. Shaking her head, she shrugged and returned to gathering the plants.
Footfalls nearby summoned the Katana from the scabbard to his open palm. He flicked his wrist and extended the blade. The Sword of War tingled and vibrated through the silk wraps pressed against the side of his chest.
A tinkling voice laced with laughter came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he took a couple of seconds to recognise and take in the sight that was Epona, the Scottish Goddess of horses, dogs, healing springs, and crops. He smiled and relaxed as the Katana returned to the scabbard. Seated on a sidesaddle, positioned on the back of a black Friesian mare, she extended her hand. “Well met, Lord of the blade. To what do the Celtic Gods owe the pleasure of your visit?”
Lowering the sword, he bowed his head onto her outstretched fingers. “Well met, my Lady.”
The smile died on her face when her gaze tracked to the wrap of silk under his arm. The mare pranced as agitation overcame her mistress. Glaring at him, she hissed, “You would dare to bring the blade of treachery to our lands? Why? The Sword of War has no place here.”
Yokami nodded and acknowledged her concern. “You are correct. This sword is an instrument of death and destruction. It has taken many lives. Too many souls have already been lost, because of its love of bloodshed and power.”
Her eyes lingered on the wrapped sword, then she stared unblinking at him and nodded. “It is right that you would rid yourself of such a weapon, but why bring it here to the Scottish Highlands? Do we not have enough strife already with the wretched English and their greed for our land?”
Joining both hands palm against palm just under his chin, he bowed his head in reverence. “I mean you and your race no harm, Lady. My intention was to hide the sword here in the past, in a place hidden for all eternity. I intended to drop it down the crater and let the Earth take it back to base metals.”
The corded muscles in his back and neck relaxed slightly when a small smile lifted the corners of her lips. Confused, he cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Have I amused you, Goddess?”
“I was watching you before you realized I was near.” She inclined her head in the direction of the blonde woman. “I see you are a man who appreciates beauty.”
He nodded and followed her gaze. “She is indeed beautiful—a puzzle, but beautiful”
Epona’s brow wrinkled. “A puzzle? What do you mean?”
The sword in the scabbard sang as it flew to his palm. Lifting the blade, he raised it slowly to the outstretched position. “Watch.”
The audible purr from the Katana caused Epona to gasp as she flinched and startled her mare, who danced on the spot. Stroking the long black neck in soothing lines, Epona looked to Yokami and frowned. “The sword recognizes Marie MacDonald?”
Lowering the blade, he returned it to the scabbard, then placed a hand on the forehead of the beautiful black mare. “So it would seem. What do you know of her?”
Epona returned her gaze to the young woman, who was now making her way back down the hillside. The purple heather seemed to stroke her ankles as it swayed in her wake.
“Angus, her husband, is of the blood of our ancient Horsemen. His clan has bred and grown Friesians for eons. The breed was a gift to Scotland from our Gods. It is our greatest hope that his genes will pass to a girl child, a daughter of the Highland horsemen. You see, for the Scots, it is only female children who are born with the Sight. We hope for a daughter who not only hears and talks and is one with our Friesian bloodline, but who also has the skill and courage to promote them as the best this world has ever seen. As our Gods intended—the pride of Scotland.”
She tapped her index finger lightly on the side of her mouth, as if deep in thought. “Perhaps your sword recognizes Marie because she is of pure warrior blood. Her clan is fearsome and undefeated in battle. Each child born to this clan is practically birthed with a broadsword in their fist.”
Yokami flinched, as adrenaline surged at her words. His jackhammering heart seemed to be trying to erupt from his body. He swallowed the quaver he knew was in his voice, then spoke. “She is warrior born? Of the sword?”
I smell rain before clouds gather across the sky. I feel the dawn before the sun paints my world the colours of the earth. It is the flit of gossamer wings above my head as I walk through the garden that warms my soul and makes me glad that faeries exist. The universe is my mistress and my strength. Things that growl in the shadows or snap at my ankles in the night are my dark friends—the source of my creativity. I, am Kathrine Leannan
BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES BOXED SET
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The Alpha male. Strong. In control. Letting no one and nothing rule him…until he meets the one, and all bets are off. The world tilts, the bed rocks, and suddenly that tough guy finds himself Brought to His Knees—in more ways than one.
This collection of ten hot to erotic novellas and one short erotic novel will take you on journeys of lust, love, and adventure, leave you breathless and quite possibly in need of a cold shower.
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AUTHOR TAGLINE’S FOR NOVELLAS IN BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES
Dark Wolf Enterprises
Murder, mayhem and imprinting with a hot wolf shifter… And they say being an accountant is boring.
A vet tech and a lone wolf rancher ride out a sudden storm, but can they weather the emotions they stir up in each other...
Two lonely men. One secret affair. Irresistible passion that will push them both to the breaking point, and beyond.
A Cowboy’s Seduction
One exhausted cowboy + One uptight accountant x A tropical resort = A hot seduction. But who is seducing whom?
Born to Sin
A tomboy in love makes a desperate attempt to seduce her best friend and succeeds beyond her wildest dreams. But this Alpha male isn’t easily tamed and has secrets that could very well tear them apart.
The Sound of Your Name
Their silent erotic encounters change his luck and awaken his soul, but secrets and cowboy superstitions can only keep them apart.
Beneath the Pages
One wicked night with her did nothing but whet his appetite. Now he’ll settle for nothing less than her complete submission.
Cruising for Love
A vacation cruise comes with surprises—like the BDSM theme and her high school love, the one man she can’t resist.
A scalding attraction. An irresistible passion. A pity she’s the one woman he can never have…
A taste of Sin isn’t enough. Instead she wants all of him, including the heart she once broke.
Make Me Surrender
When it comes to two of the hottest guys in town, she has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.
Blurb for Tina Donahue’s Make Me Surrender (menage):
She has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.
For over a year, Mercy’s had her eye on Travis and Dutch, two of the hottest guys on the Oregon coast. Dark and dangerously virile, Travis owns a saloon that caters to bikers. Dutch looks like one, right down to his impressive tats, and operates a motorcycle repair shop on the premises.
When a position opens in the saloon’s kitchen, Mercy sees a way to be near these sinfully sexy men, wanting the job and lodging, her cabin snuggled between theirs.
Travis isn’t so sure about having Mercy nearby. She’s deliciously curvy, but too nice. He’s into temporary fun. To Dutch, forever is a dirty word.
Imagine their surprise when sweet little Mercy encourages wild nights of carnal pleasure with a dash of bondage and spanking…followed by friendship and tenderness.
Before she’s through, these tough guys will be the ones who’ve surrendered.
Travis slammed the pickup’s door and went around to the bed.
Mercy reached it just as he did. “Can you hand me the cooler?” She pointed to it.
She’d painted her nails the same shade as her lips. He recalled her finger in his mouth, how good the frosting and her skin had tasted. A sudden shock of heat spread from Travis’s belly to his crotch.
“There’s a fridge inside, right?” she asked.
It took him a moment to catch up. He nodded. “Your own private bath too.” Just in case she’d planned to use the one in Dutch’s cabin or his, driving both of them over the edge.
“Thanks.” She took the cooler from him and pulled out a single-wrapped Popsicle. Cherry-flavored. “Want one?”
Travis’s answer died in his throat at her tongue snaking around the tip of the pop. She worked the treat between her lips, in and out, as she would a man’s stiffened rod. Unable to speak, he shook his head.
Mercy licked the corners of her mouth, her tongue stained scarlet. “If you do later, go ahead and take as many as you want. Sure is hot today.”
His damn underwear was practically smoking.
After giving him another smile, she followed her girlfriend to the cabin. Like a lovesick puppy, Travis followed, staring at Mercy’s plush ass, the backs of her thighs. All that pale, smooth skin had him breathing hard.
She stopped. He couldn’t, at least not quickly enough, and bumped into her, his cock snuggled against her butt. Mercy looked over, submission in her eyes, a drop of Popsicle juice on her lower lip.
It glittered in the afternoon light, inviting him to taste its sweetness, the cushiony comfort of her mouth.
With a shitting lot of willpower, Travis stepped back, letting Mercy lick her lip before he did.
On a sigh, she turned from him and considered the cabin’s interior again. Bright and clean, smelling of disinfectant and Febreze. He and Dutch had worked on the damn place for hours.
“Wow. This is really nice.” Mercy touched the wooden bedframe, small kitchen set, and freshly washed curtains as though they were made of gold.
Travis wondered what she would think of his old place in one of San Francisco’s most exclusive high rises, or his parents’ many mansions. He’d willingly walked away from so much when she hadn’t had the choice. Rotten luck had caused her to be alone, to work at Fast Fill and here in order to take care of herself.
Mercy didn’t seem to mind or care about money at all. In that they were so alike, making Travis admire and like her even more.
She offered a grateful smile. “You did an awesome job.”
“Way better than Carl would have,” the girl with her gushed, then added, “I’m Jill by the way. Carl’s my guy. That’s his pickup you drove,” she said to Travis. “Thanks for not hitting anything with it.”
Mercy gave him and her friend a disapproving look. “Travis wasn’t driving that fast. He’s just in a hurry to get me moved in. Do you have plans later?” She spoke to him and Dutch. “Either of you? Am I interfering?”
Travis had thought about calling one of the women he knew, maybe grab a pizza, catch a movie, screw until they were both raw then call it a night. “Nope. Dutch probably does.”
“I don’t,” he said immediately, and smiled at Mercy. “We’re all yours.”
She nodded slowly and licked the length of her Popsicle.
Travis’s throat constricted. He cleared it and said, “After we bring in your things, we’ll set up the ground rules for this arrangement.” He gestured to Dutch. “Let’s go.”
When they reached the pickup’s bed, Dutch spoke quietly. “Ground rules? You mean her hours of work. What she’s supposed to do.”
“Yeah, along with you keeping your jeans zipped and wearing a damn shirt when she’s around.”
“Like you’re doing? Oh wait, you’re not.”
“I didn’t wrap my arm around her.”
“It was a friendly gesture. Hell, I do the same with my grandmother. It’s not a felony.”
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.
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Genre: Scifi Romance
With his enemy defeated and order re-established, Vaan plans to enjoy his life with his Raasa mate. Mikayla’s upcoming birth makes his heart sing with joy.
Mikayla prepares for the birth of her first youngling with her Overlord mate. This should be a happy time but Vaan must return to Kaban and reassure his people that he yet lives.
There are still those not pleased at the turn of events with Thenl’s downfall and seek to destroy what the Overlord has built. Will Vaan and Mikayla finally be able to relax or will trouble continue to follow them?
When Balal returned to the lower level, Vaan cornered him. “How is she?”
His Warlord hesitated and then answered. “Hurt.”
Kavan came up behind him. “She is not pleased you kept this from her.”
Vaan knew that and accepted his actions. “Mikayla would have worried needlessly. I fear carrying our youngling has her judgment absent.”
Kavan folded his arms over his bare chest. “You should confine her to her bed while you are gone.”
Vaan felt a grin tug at his lips. Kavan and Mikayla had come to a mutual agreement between them that neither would discuss with him but Kavan often argued that Mikayla should settle into her role as mate. “You would have her angrier at me before I leave, yes?”
His Warlord cracked a small smile. “It would make watching her easier for Balal and I.”
Vaan grunted. Nothing involving his mate was easy. “Mikayla is not a Kabanian woman. Best we all accept and remember this then move forward.” He faced Balal. Mikayla’s favorite among his Warlords. “You will not allow her to endanger herself.”
“As you command, Overlord.”
Balal’s agreement came instantly but Vaan had witnessed Mikayla work around the youth in the past. “Have Assa help you if necessary.” Assa and Mikayla grew up together. His mate maintained a close relationship with all of her people due to her parents going to the Hills while she was a youngling but she was closest to Assa, Sera and Vesa. The house servants would be sure to keep an eye on Mikayla.
Balal ran a hand through his dark shoulder length hair and shifted his weight. “Assa no longer gives me her confidence.”
Vaan raised a brow at this news but Kavan burst into laughter drawing stares their way. Balal’s cheeks stained red.
“What happened, Warlord?” The Raasa female seemed enamored of Balal and often spent time in his company.
Kavan’s laughter died to chuckles and answered Vaan for Balal. “She is not pleased with his bed play.”
Balal punched Kavan in the chest and stormed from the hall, anger in his steps. Vaan sighed. This he knew something about. Perhaps, he’d offer Balal a hint to ease his way.
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Michelle Howard enjoys a crazy life that involves wild kids, a loud dog, and a husband who tolerates the madness. Like many authors, she’s dreamed of writing since reading her first romance novel many years ago. She loves paranormal and contemporary romances and is a fan of the classic romances, such as Judith McNaught and Julie Garwood.
I love to hear from fans so please reach out to me. If the mood hits you, leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
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An Art of Love Novel
By Kitsy Clare
Sequel to Model Position
Sometimes sugar isn’t so sweet and secrets can be deadly...especially with matters of the heart.
Sienna’s bestie, Harper warned her not to intern for famous bad boy artist, Casper Mason. After all, he just fired Harper who helped Sienna get the interview. But the moment Sienna sees Casper—or Caz—sweaty, practically shirtless and swinging from chains as he works on his sculpture, she’s hooked. He’s the richest, hottest artist in New York, and he lives in the fabulous Williamsburg Sugar Factory. But he’s also an incorrigible game-player, who seems to relish testing Sienna’s loyalty with a string of unsettling tests.
She knows she should get away fast. But by the time Sienna sneaks into his locked storage room and begins to unearth his dark and terrifying secret, she’s fallen way too hard for the handsome, charismatic Caz.
He locks his rich, hot-chocolate eyes on me, and studies my every curve and angle, seems to be piercing right through my skin into the alleys of my mind and heart. Curious, he’s so curious. I sense him asking where I’m from and why it took me so long to find him, and what kind of art I do, and whether I’ve ever sold it or gotten a review, or who I know, who I hang out with, and how much experience I’ve had in galleries, in school, in the world, in bed. My neck heats up. Did I just think that? Or was that something in his head that crossed wires and invaded mine? He’s close to me now, still staring boldly, when suddenly I feel his inner questions stop. And a wall, like one of those metal store gratings, clatters downward and slams. Closed for business, closed for questions, closed for good.
This, all before we’ve exchanged one word. When I come back into myself, I’m embarrassed to realize that I’m wringing my hands—the old-fashioned hysterical Victorian damsel in distress kind of wringing. I stop, immediately. Rub my sweaty palms on my dress. Buck up! I scold silently. And I extend my hand. “I’m Sienna. I’m your new intern.”
Casper Mason doesn’t take my hand. The nerve. He’s standing there, boldly, legs wide apart in some twisted warrior stance, arms folded across his wide chest. Jaw jutting out rebelliously, eyes daring me…to do what? So after an excruciating few seconds, I retract my hand.
“My new intern?” Caz mumbles as though an intern is a radioactive space rock or some otherworldly object and he never ordered one. “Well, it’s about time. That last one was a disaster.”
Praise for Private Internship:
"Beautiful. Amazing. A fantastic read that left me wanting more." -XoXo Book Blog
"A juicy read full of passion and magnetic chemistry that will have you hooked from beginning to end." -From the Purple Matter Book Blog
Available on September 29th- Ebook only!
Kitsy Clare hails from Philadelphia and lives in New York. A romantic at heart, she loves to write about the sexy intrigue of the city, and particularly of the art world. She knows it well, having shown her paintings here before turning to writing. Model Position, her new adult novella is about artist Sienna and her friends. Living in a Bookworld says: “Beautifully written! We get to learn things about art & painting, which is refreshing. A colorful story from a promising new adult author.” Private Internship is the next in her Art of Love series.
Kitsy loves to travel, draw, read romance, speculative fiction, and teach writing workshops. She also writes YA as Catherine Stine. Her futuristic thriller, Ruby’s Fire was a YA finalist in the Next Generation Indie book awards. Fireseed One, its companion novel, was a finalist in YA and Sci-Fi in the USA News International Book Awards and an Indie Reader notable. Her YA horror, Dorianna, launches in fall, 2014. She’s a member of SFWA, RWA and SCBWI.
Subscribe to Kitsy’s newsletter to get all the updates and special treats on Private Internship and all of the Art of Love books: http://catherinestine.us6.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=1fe566b1e53f7d3e95b7443e4&id=93554d599e
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Available on September 29th- Ebook only at all major retailers!
The Good Sister: Part One
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Written by: London Saint James
Narrated by: Kitty Barclay
Length: 10 hrs and 8 mins
Trinity Lane Winslow feared everything and lived her life vicariously through others. She dreamed of the impossible, yearning to be the kind of woman men desired—especially Reid Addison.
Reid Addison feared nothing, except how the mousey little blonde daughter of his housekeeper made him feel. Even though Trinity Winslow wasn’t his type, there was something intriguing about her.
Lord Ashton Archer lived a fairy tale life with property all over the world, was heir to a ducal dynasty, and had women fawning all over him. Anything a man could want, he obtained by the snap of his fingers.
By a twist of fate the three of them find their way into the same illicit world of the infamous Madam Jacqueline Claudette Rousseau. But will they find what each of them truly desires? Or will they always long for the forbidden?
Note: The Good Sister: Part One is a 2-book series. It is best read/listened to in order.
Buy Links: Audible iTunes
~About the Author~
London wrote her first short story in the second grade. Her teacher informed her parents London had a big imagination, but having a big imagination wasn’t necessarily a good thing as far as he was concerned. Without watering that seed of imagination, London placed her vivid characters, her childhood stories, along with her imagination on the shelf, where they would wither for a while. At the urging of her eighth grade English teacher, London pulled her imagination off that shelf, and wrote her second short story. To no surprise, it was a love story inspired by a song. Then as life does, it moves on, so yet again London placed her imagination on the shelf to wither for a while. She needed to do the “sensible thing.”
The sensible thing earned London a degree in Psychology, but while in college she traversed into writing once more, and was encouraged by a couple of professors to pursue that endeavor. She took on the world of written word, and has never looked back.
London writes erotic romance from sweet to downright naughty. She is an author for Evernight Publishing, a member of the Romance Writers of America, and a member of Passionate Ink.
Next in line to lead the vampire species, Princess Naya Kensington has always abided by her royal responsibilities. At the urging of her best friend, Naya breaks the rules and crosses the line when she goes to a human nightclub. Following a chance encounter, Naya alters her life with a singular act forged from lust and blood.
Vaughn Llewelyn has secrets and obligations of his own, but he ignores them when he spots Naya across the nightclub. He wants her in a way he’s never felt before, and although he can’t possibly have more than one night with Naya, he knows no one else will do.
One night of forbidden love creates a bond that will forever change both of their lives…as well as their worlds.
As Naya moved closer, she found a small opening near the corner of the bar. When she reached the counter, it was obvious as to why the space had been empty. Next to her sat a disheveled man perched on a stool. He stank of alcohol and smelled like he was about a week overdue for a shower. He ogled her, making her uncomfortable, but people were swarming the bar around her, so she was unable to put the space she wanted between herself and the dirty drunk.
However, she was sick of people forcing her to do things she didn’t want to do, whether it was consciously or subconsciously on their part. She was going to get a drink, head to the floor, and dance until she started to have fun, even if it killed her. She would not let anyone ruin her plans.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he scooted closer, looking her up and down and almost falling over in the process. Apparently, his intoxicated state wasn’t going to stop him because he next slurred, “You’re hot,” as he swayed into her personal bubble.
She’d had to hold her breath when he spoke since his teeth hadn’t met a toothbrush in some time.
Naya faced forward and ignored him, hoping he would get the hint. While situations like this didn’t happen often, she had learned that silence was sometimes the best policy.
He leaned in closer. “I said, hey, baby.”
This time, she gave him a stern look. “Sir, I am not your baby.” She turned away, praying the straightforward approach would work.
“Wanna come home with me tonight? We can grab a six-pack of beer and fuck.”
She gasped. “No!” Gross.
“What? You don’t like beer?” He laughed at his joke and extended his hand to touch her.
She jerked her arm away and lifted her chin with confidence. “I’m here with someone.”
If only it were true.
He called her bluff. “I don’t see anyone with you. Why are you playing hard to get, dollface?”
She groaned. Why won’t he go away?
She took a small step back, irritated that she had to be the one to leave, when she sensed a presence behind her. Even though she couldn’t see the person, she knew immediately that he was big, male, and powerful. But she wasn’t afraid. In fact, a calm sense of relief came over her, and she instinctively recognized he was the one who had been watching her. The deep feelings he’d first stirred in her now flared to life. Anticipation, excitement, arousal, and exhilaration fused into one. Her head was spinning as her nostrils flared, and the lonely place between her legs blazed to life.
From the mirror behind the bar, she caught a glimpse of a virile male before he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, engulfing her body with his own. He kissed her neck and lingered there as if he had the right.
She tilted her head and let him.
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R.L. Kenderson is two best friends writing under one name. Renae wrote her first poem in third grade and learned she might have a knack for this writing thing, while Lara remembers sneaking her grandmother’s Harlequin novels when she was probably too young to be reading them and always knew she wanted to write her own.
When they met in college, they bonded over their love of reading and the TV show Charmed. What really spiced up their friendship was when Lara introduced Renae to romance novels, and when they discovered their first vampire romance they knew there would always be a special place in their hearts for paranormal romance. After being unable to find certain storylines and characteristics they wanted to read about in the hundreds of books they consumed, they decided to write their own.
They both live in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area where they’re a sonographer/stay-at-home mom and pharmacist by day and sexy author by night.
Author Links: Website Facebook Goodreads Twitter Tumblr
Descent Into Darkness
Spanning almost two centuries Descent Into Darkness is the erotic love story of an ancient vampire and the mortal woman who is his obsession.
Alexander DeLenoir is an ancient creature of the night, born in a betrayal that has left him without conscience or morality. He’s witnessed history that is now myth. Throughout his long life, Alexander has seldom sought companionship, and never has he looked for love. He has kept two of his immortal children with him, through whatever means necessary, and is not intending to expand his family.
Arriving at a small Massachusetts town after killing the sailors on their ship, the vampire trio meets the mysterious and lonely wife of the innkeeper, and Alexander is entranced by her beauty and her indomitable spirit. In Amberlaine Calvert, he senses a nature as dark and depraved as his own seeking freedom. Despite the protests of his companions, Alexander takes her and in adoration of him finds an obsessive kind of happiness.
When the town slowly awakens to the evil among them, a bloody slaughter ensues, and Amberlaine is forced to see the madness that will define her life with Alexander. Yet, in spite of her fear, she is obsessively devoted to the powerful vampire, and the darker things she feels lurking within her are about to be unleashed by a hunger even greater than her passion—the thirst for revenge against those who dare to threaten their existence…
“What is her name?”
“Whose name?” he asked as he shook off the ancient memories.
“Your daughter,” she insisted with an impatient toss of her head. “Is she one of us? Do you still keep her safe and protect her?”
“Diana needs no one to protect her,” he answered blandly. Especially the true father she does not know she has, he added mentally. He had been very careful to erase that knowledge from her memory, an appallingly easy task, even for one as inexperienced as he had been then.
“Diana,” she repeated thoughtfully. “It’s very pretty. And very elegant, as your name is,” she concluded with a grin.
“And your name, Camille, is very old. Do you know what it means?” he wondered, only now seeing the irony of it, himself.
“Tell me, cara mia,” she requested as she rose and sat astride his thighs. She was leaning into his neck when his laughter woke a warning inside her.
“It is from the Etruscan, one of the most ancient languages. Your name means ‘attendant at a sacrifice’,” he told her with mocking amusement. “It is most appropriate, is it not, cara?”
She started to pull away, but his hands on her upper arms prevented the escape she suddenly, desperately wanted. One of the talon like hands glided over her skin and buried in her hair. Terror choked her and she began pounding on his chest in an effort to dislodge him.
“Happy Birthday, cara,” Alexander murmured, his rich, silky voice low with provocative warmth. He jerked her head hard and sank his fangs into the soft, exposed skin of her throat. Tender flesh yielded to the razor-edge of his canines, and she whimpered weakly as he drank.
She wasn’t quite dead when he released her and climbed out of the bed. Her eyes watched every movement he made, and pleaded silently for help he wouldn’t give. He dressed and sat on the edge of the mattress again. Pale, slender fingers raked through the heavy fall of her dark hair, and he smiled lazily.
“Are you happy with your present, Camille?” he questioned.
She said nothing, merely stared. Of course, it wasn’t likely she could speak, he admitted when he noted her ruined throat.
“I have enjoyed our time together,” he told her with a smile. “I have even enjoyed sharing this secret with you. It’s been so long since I was able to speak of such distant things.” His tone was polite and conversational, eerily so. “But, such a weapon is a danger to me, cara. Therefore, I must protect myself against possible betrayal. You understand, don’t you?”
His laughter filled the room, and the sound was a horrifying mixture of insanity and pleasure. Alexander rose, donned the elegant evening cape he had selected earlier, and bent to place a light kiss on her forehead.
Camille stared, her eyes begged for mercy. His cold contempt shattered the last shred of will she possessed. The scritch of a match being struck, then the hiss of noise as it bloomed into flame, were now the only sounds within the room.
Alexander dropped the insignificant torch onto the bed and stepped back. He watched the sheets begin to burn as the searing tongues of fire fanned outward and slowly consumed the massive piece of furniture. Camille’s scream echoed in his mind as she died a true death, and he silenced the annoying intrusion with a swiftness that came from vast lifetimes of experience.
He walked from the room as the fire intensified, and knew the house itself would be ablaze long before any emergency services would be notified. He stepped out into the balmy night and strolled down the walk.
He was tired of San Francisco, he decided as he covered the ground in long, graceful strides. Talking of Diana reminded him of how long it had been since he’d seen her. And, he knew, she would know where to find Julian. His loneliness had made him whimsical this night. Perhaps it was time to reclaim the children who meant most to him? Particularly his most troublesome child.
Julian had been allowed to run free for far too long. Alexander now wanted him back. If the young nobleman refused him, Alexander would destroy him--as he had the other son who had forsaken his love so long ago.
The ancient vampire felt an unwelcome memory tugging at his heart as he continued to walk. The smell of the fire woke a pain he hadn’t permitted himself to feel for almost two hundred years. He’d lost her to fire and the grief he’d refused to accept still haunted him. His footsteps slowed momentarily, then he pushed away her image with a force of will that had been centuries in the making. Alexander shook his head, pretended he couldn’t recall the soft fragrance of wildflowers and the silken feel of copper hair as it streamed over his naked skin, the gentle smile contained within smoke-grey eyes, and the sensual knowledge of the truest lover he had ever claimed. His beautiful, devoted Amberlaine. Lost to him for nearly three centuries.
Buy Links: Liquid Silver Books Amazon Kobo Barnes & Noble All Romance Books
Canadian born and bred, and a lifelong dreamer, I began writing at an early age and can’t recall a time when I wasn’t creating in some artistic form. My life has had several on-going love affairs that shape much of what I write, the American West, Victorian England, cowboys, a passion for pirates, Greek Gods, and Ancient Egypt. The other endless love affairs in my life are Italia and all its magic, beauty, and dazzling culture, and a passion for Romania. Those loves spill into all aspects of my life.
In the past half dozen years, I’ve signed with over a dozen publishers, and have released books in all lengths and genres, and it’s something I hope to continue to do for many more years. A visit to my website will show the diversity of what is currently available, and the mixing of genres and styles that will be employed in many up-coming projects as well.
Voted Preditors and Editors Best Author of 2012 and 2013
Author Links: Website Twitter Facebook
R.L. Kenderson is giving away two ebook copies of Forbidden Blood, and a $10 Amazon GC.
Denysè is giving away Handcrafted piece of jewelry or a leather notebook - winner choice.
For a chance to win please fill out the rafflecopter below.
In spring 2014, I introduced readers to Hunter Beckman and Rebecca Lange, two survivors of a tragic accident. Little did I know when I started their story that it would turn into a trilogy.....But it did.
And today, I'm pleased to unveil the cover for the second book in the Masterpiece Trilogy, which is A Masterpiece Unraveled.
As love blossoms, twenty year old secrets threaten it all....
Becca and Hunter have always tried to make sense of a tragedy, but they never fully asked why. Why were they on the same plane? Where were they going, or coming from? Recent events force them to find out everything they can about the plane crash and the events that led them there.
Becca's always been strong. She's always found a safety net in Hunter, the man who saved her as a child and always stuck by her, giving her reason to go on when no one else gave her a chance. Now, she fights to keep her strength going, but her fears begin to get the better of her, and the facade she tries to hold up threatens to crack.
Hunter is learning to fight his demons and put them to rest, but he can't help but worry about Becca and the future they've just begun to build. She's become the withdrawn person he'd been for the past few years and he doesn't know how to help, unless he finds the answers they both are desperate to know.
They've always battled every storm together, but a new storm could sweep in and blow the foundation right out from under them....
The second installment of the Masterpiece trilogy is full of twists, turns, and secrets that come unburied...
This story is not a standalone, this is the second in a trilogy that follow the same characters. A Masterpiece Of Our Love should be read first.
A Masterpiece Unraveled on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19402762-a-masterpiece-unraveled
If you haven't read the story that started it all, here is some information on A Masterpiece Of Our Love.
Two Lives Torn by tragedy.
Eight-year-old Becca and twelve-year-old Hunter cling to each other and life after surviving a plane crash which stole their families.
Two Souls Seeking Love.
Each year, from the time she was old enough to travel on her own, Becca met up with Hunter on the island that altered their lives forever.
Until he stopped showing.
Her constant. Her link to the past. Gone in the blink of an eye.
Two Lives Bound by Secret.
Suffering more heartbreak, Hunter returns to the one place he’s always sought comfort, the island where he and Becca met. It was the place that stole from him, and in the same instance gave to him. He hasn't been back or spoken to Becca in four years.
Though he’s sure she must hate him for disappearing, Hunter discovers the girl gone, now a woman in her place. Hunter is determined to prove to Becca he isn’t the same twelve-year-old boy of yesteryear.
But someone isn't happy about their reunion...
Strange things begin happening. Letters start showing up in their hotel rooms and at home with cryptic messages.
Two Broken Hearts Heal as One.
With the mystery unsolved, Hunter convinces Becca to spend the remainder of the summer back home with him, both for safety and to give them a chance to discover the adults they’ve now become.
Will love get a chance to blossom, or will the past come back and tear the masterpiece of their love apart once and for all?
A Masterpiece Of Our Love is currently 99 cents!
“I didn't mean to, Bec. I was just worried about what he was going to do, I wanted to know if he happened to see anything, not to make you look bad, but to find out the truth! So I screwed up again. What more do you want me to do?” Never failed. Every time, he seemed to put himself further in a hole. This wasn't easy on Becca, he knew it.
Becca leaned back in the seat and rubbed her forehead. Then she grabbed her purse and darted out of the car.
With a grunt of frustration, Hunter stormed after her. They reached the living room when he tugged on her hand, guiding her to look at him. Damn it, she flinched again! He shouldn't take it personally as she'd been doing it with pretty much anyone, but he'd been one of the ones who caused it to begin with. “I know this is rough. You think it's easy on me? I can't stop worrying about you. You have to admit you've been paranoid, and it's not that anyone can blame you, angel. You're trying to put your brave face on again. You always have, but it's been even more so since your visit with your grandparents. I'm not them. You can let it out any time.”
She yanked her hand out of his grasp. “You think I'm crazy don't you?”
That stopped him cold in his tracks. A few weeks ago, he accused her of having the same thought. Wow had the roles ever been reversed. He shook his head. “I don't think you're crazy. In fact, you're the far opposite of crazy. What you've been through would be more than enough to send anyone over the edge.
While I think you're paranoid and even you've even admitted it before, you're far from crazy. Bec, you're still one of the strongest people I know.”
Sadness flashed in her eyes. “I don't feel strong. I feel like I'm losing control of reality.”
“I know that feeling all too well.”
“I've been debating in my head all day about the car. You think I like not knowing if I'm losing it or someone's actually following me? I hate both options!”
Bio and Links:
I'm an avid lover of books. I've been writing as far back as I can remember, completing my first "book" by fifth grade in one of those one subject spiral notebooks. I have a passion for music, photography, jewelry and all things creative. I live in Arizona with my husband and son, but dream of being somewhere much colder and stormier. For now, I'll have to live that life through my characters and stick it out with the summer heat.
Places to find me on the web:
Facebook Chat group: Nikki's Book Nook:
Nikki's Book Stormers:
I love to hear from readers!
Can an older man be everything Krista’s been looking for?
Krista Michaels’ dating life has been non-existent since her divorce a year before. When her best friend steps in and declares it’s time for a night out at the newest May/December hang-out, The Gentleman’s Club, Krista enters a whole new world and lays eyes on a man who leaves her speechless.
Neil Clark likes younger women and having a good time. Krista catches his attention right away, From their first conversation, he can tell she isn’t a woman to simply play with. One problem: Krista isn’t interested, or so she says. But Neil isn’t about to let her slip away.
Krista’s heart and mind battle it out as Neil does his best to win her over. But they have one huge difference in what they want out of life, and Krista isn’t willing to give up her values, not for a man, not for money, not for love...
Krista jogged to catch up with her friend. At the entrance, a big man stood there in the classic get-up. Sunglasses, a black shirt, and tight jeans. He was hot and Krista wondered if she could stay out there with him because he looked more like her type.
“Good evening, ladies. I need to see some ID.” He held out his hand.
She dug hers out of her wallet and handed it to him. He glanced at the I.D.’s, smiled, and gave them back.
“Enjoy your evening.”
Jamie looped her arm through Krista’s and they were on their way to what felt like the unknown to Krista.
Inside was dark as expected, but there was just enough lighting so she wouldn’t trip over anything. There were a lot of women there. Apparently her friend wasn’t the only one with a thing for older men.
There was a small dance floor to her left, but it was mostly set up with various lounge areas. A contemporary feel flowed throughout with black leather sofas, red-and-white throw pillows, and chrome décor. The bar sat in the center of the room, and Krista was thrilled when Jamie led her in that direction.
A female bartender, who was surprisingly dressed conservative in a white button down blouse, greeted them. “What can I get you?”
“Two sex on the beaches,” Jamie said.
“Suck up.” Krista leaned her back against the bar and glanced around. She didn’t see a man anywhere without a young, beautiful woman at his side. Next to the attached women, she felt like she was wearing a paper sack. Not a man looked in her direction. “I bet all the good ones are taken.”
Jamie twirled a lock of her blonde hair as she checked out the men. “Why do you say that?”
“With the amount of women in here, any man without one at this point must be a loser.”
“Or he’s just waiting on the right woman.” Jamie winked.
The bartender returned with their drinks. Jamie told her to leave the tab open.
“Now what?” Krista asked as she picked up her beverage.
“Let’s find somewhere to sit, drink a little to lighten our mood, and go from there. This doesn’t need to be planned out.”
“This is so stupid.” Krista took a sip of her drink. “It feels like we’re waiting for some man to find us attractive and want to talk to us. It’s just weird.”
Her friend sighed. “Live a little. Jeez. How well has it been working out with the men your own age?”
Jamie had a point. “But still,” Krista protested halfheartedly.
“If you want to leave, I’ll give you my keys. I’m not going to force you to stay.”
“I might.” A deep masculine voice sounded from behind them.
A shiver swept down Krista’s spine. Her heart rate sped up and it felt like slow motion as she spun around to see who had spoken to her. Oh. My. God! She laid eyes on one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. He put George Clooney to shame.
“Would you gorgeous ladies care to join me?” He motioned toward an empty couch.
“We’d love to.” Jamie smiled.
Krista attempted to speak, but no words were forming as she followed them over. She expected Jamie to sit next to the sexy man and keep him for herself, but instead, her friend left a gap for Krista to sit in the middle.
“I’m Neil.” He took a sip from his drink. The light gold liquid flowed to his lips and Krista found herself jealous of the glass.
“I’m Jamie, and this is my friend Krista Michaels.”
Why the heck did Jamie just given him my last name?
Neil rested his glass on the armrest. He was at ease and in his comfort zone as he straightened his light blue tie. “It’s nice to meet you both. First time here?”
“Yes. Though it’s a relatively new place. Have you been here much?” Jamie asked.
“A few times. I’m friends with the owner.” His gaze stayed on Krista.
She stared back, mesmerized by him. He had dark hair with slight streaks of grey at the temple. Not too much, just was the right amount. Perfect. Like him. Now if only she could speak, she might get somewhere.
“What do you do for a living?” He spun the glass around with his fingers.
“We’re both teachers,” Jamie answered.
His eyes widened. “This must be your favorite time of the year. Summer vacation.”
“It is.” Jamie poked Krista in the side.
Krista nodded since for whatever reason, her mouth still wasn’t working.
“Are you always so quiet?” Neil smirked. A tiny dimple formed on his chin. She loved a man with dimples.
“Usually she won’t shut up.” Jamie giggled. “What’s up, Krista?”
“I love your name by the way.” His blue eyes locked on her.
“Thank you.” She finally managed a word.
He took a long drink then set the cup down on the table. He sat back, pulling one leg up and resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “I’m going to be frank. When I see something I like, I go after it. And I like what I see, Krista. Are you single?”
His bluntness caused a wave of pleasure to ripple though her. “I am.”
“I’m attracted to you very much, but I don’t want to waste my time if you don’t feel the same.” He paused, staring at her with a longing in his eyes. Finally, he moistened his lips. “That isn’t entirely true. If you weren’t interested in me, I’d try harder. I don’t like not getting what I want, and I want you.”
Buy Links: Amazon Barnes & Noble ARe Smashwords
Lacey Wolfe has always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing her own. From the time she was a child she would slip away to write short stories about people she knew and fantasies she wished would happen. It has always been her dream to be a published author and with her two children now of school age, she finally has the time to work on making her dream come true.
Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband, son and daughter, their six cats and one black lab who rules the house.
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Lacey is giving away a $5 GC to Amazon, and two runner ups will receive a swag pack.
For a chance to win please fill out the rafflecopter below.
Genre: Genre(s): Erotic Contemporary Romance
The Night Series, Book 4
Falling for him was easy, but can she let him go?
After a year of travel, fun-loving pool shark Lynette Brooks has settled in Pineville to be near her cousin. She doesn't plan to be there long, and she doesn't expect fate to step in, sweeping her off her feet. But when she meets the serious cop, Ty Sellers, she sees a challenge and is determined to get to know him.
Ty is a no-nonsense, by-the-book lawman who keeps to himself. Living in a fog of misery is exactly what he deserves, and getting emotionally attached to someone is not an option…until he meets Lynette. She's spontaneous, reckless, and a gorgeous haphazard of a woman who threatens to break through his guarded walls and unsettles emotions he buried long ago.
The chemistry between them is undeniable, but the guilt Ty lives with every day causes him to push Lynette away. All she wants is him, but how much of his wavering can she take before letting go for good?
Content Warning: strong language and graphic sex
Lynette slipped her shoes off, rolled her jeans to her knees, and dipped her feet in the cool lake. A massive weeping willow loomed overhead, by the light of the night the cascading leaves looked like a flowing waterfall.
She stared at the tree for a moment then flashed Ty a smile. "Thanks for bringing me here."
He put the cooler down next to an iron framed chair with beige cushions and sat on the edge. "I called in a favor. No big deal."
"Sharon and Kyle are pretty great. I've been to their house, seen the tropical paradise backyard, but this… I had no idea it was so beautiful. No wonder Kayla asked to have her wedding here." She raised an eyebrow, gave him a teasing grin. "Have you decided yet if you're going?"
"Well, if you do go, be warned, there will be dancing." Lynette plucked her feet from the water and stood. She grabbed her phone from her front pocket and searched through her music. She'd never danced lakeside under moonlight, and didn't want to pass up the chance, or the opportunity to be in his arms again. "You might want to practice. After all, there's no better way to woo the ladies. What will your date think if you're not fully prepared to swing her around the dance floor as if you own it?"
"Are you saying I'm a bad dancer, Miss Brooks?"
"Nope. I'm seizing the moment." She hit play on her phone, and a slow melody filled the silence of the night air. "Dance with me."
"Here?" he asked, glancing around at their surroundings.
"Of course! Why not?" Lynette grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The gesture caused all kinds of crazy little birds to take flight in her chest. "What else are we gonna do? Sit here and drink beer until we both pass out?" She laughed once then stood firm, feigning a serious face. "Wait, you didn't bring me out here to the most romantic spot I've seen in forever for nothing, did you?"
"I thought you'd like it." A huge smile plastered his face.
Ty took her other hand, maneuvered her in a half twist so her back was to his chest, then spun her out to the extent of his arm and back in where they faced each other. His right hand landed on the small of her back and pulled her close. He chuckled and did some kind of waltz type step to the music. Placing his palm on her chest, he pushed until her back arched in a way she never knew it could. Slowly, Ty ran his hand down the length of her torso, leaving a trail of unbridled heat that sent every ounce of blood in her body gushing straight to her core. By the time he jerked her back up her entire body had become a trembling heap. When their eyes met, she nearly came apart and fell through the cracks of the wood decking.What the hell?
Lynette wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from sliding through his hold, and tried her damnedest to control her lungs. She swallowed hard to tamp down the shaking in her throat. It didn't work, and her words came out sounding weak, quavering. "Someone's showing off."
"Someone asked for it," he said, low and resolute.
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Sidda Lee Tate has spent most of her life creating stories. Writing is one of her great loves, with romance and eroticism being her specialties. Whether her words make readers cry or laugh or just downright hot, she is proud to take people on a journey with her characters. Sidda Lee lives in a small town in Arkansas with her husband and son.
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Musings from Michigan