DOWN DEEP – A Kimberly Kincaid Excerpt Reveal

Are you ready to go deep and feel the burn?

From USA Today bestselling author Kimberly Kincaid comes DOWN DEEP, the next standalone title in the Station Seventeen series, releasing June 18th! Check out the excerpt below and grab you copy today!

 

Ian Gamble has a past he’d rather forget—which is exactly what he’s doing at The Crooked Angel Bar and Grill when the place catches fire. Between his active duty in the Marines and his experience as a firefighter, his instincts get him and hot, headstrong bar manager, Kennedy Matthews, to safety. But those same instincts kick into high gear when the fire is ruled an arson, and he discovers Kennedy’s got secrets of her own.

The only thing that matters more to Kennedy than her bar is her brother. When she finds out he’s in over his head with a dangerous arsonist, she’ll do anything to keep him safe—even if it means teaming up with Gamble, who’s too sharp-eyed and hard-bodied for his own good. With every step, their attraction flares hotter and the risks grow more dangerous. Can Gamble and Kennedy face their fears—and their secrets—to catch a terrifying enemy? Or will they go down in flames?

Amazon * Barnes & Noble * iBooks * Kobo


Order a digital or print edition of DOWN DEEP by Kimberly Kincaid and get an exclusive Epilogue from Kimberly! Each entry will also be entered for the chance to win a Grand Prize!

The Grand Prize for 1 winner consists of:

~A 30-minute Google Hangout for the winner and ONE friend with Kimberly Kincaid and BT Urruela!

FILL OUT THE FORM HERE!

 

Excerpt DDKK.png 

“Turn around.”

Kennedy paused. She wasn’t in the habit of being bossed around; hell, she wasn’t even really in the habit of accepting help, mostly because she never needed it. But her shoulders really did hurt like a sonofabitch, and anyway, letting him manage the sore spot on her back would only take a couple of seconds. How hard could it be?

She turned to face the shelving unit, pulling her hair over one shoulder. Gamble stepped in behind her, his hands finding the middle of her back a second later. His touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike his work-hardened body and dark stare and gruff demeanor, and Kennedy relaxed against the contact without meaning to.

“I usually do this with a tennis ball,” he said, his fingers traveling over either side of her spine as if he were trying to read her through the cotton of her shirt. “You just put it against a wall, press your back against it to keep it from falling, then roll it around a little to get it in the right place.”

“Sounds easy enough.” He slid his fingers higher, resting them just above her shoulder blades, and ah, her muscles squeezed in a burst of pleasure/pain.

“The trick is finding exactly the right spot and applying enough pressure to get everything to let go,” Gamble said. His hands kept moving, seeming to take stock of everything they touched, and with each pass of his fingers, Kennedy felt the tension in her body unwind. Her frazzled nerves, her fatigue, all of it fell away, and the pure goodness left in its wake made her mouth act independently from her brain.

“For the record, I do have a college degree.”

“Sorry?” His voice rumbled from behind her, and she turned her chin toward her shoulder to look at him—at least, as much as she could—as she answered.

“Before, you said”—his fingers found a spot, deep in her musculature, that made her pause for an exhale—“that you didn’t think they taught hammerlocks like that at Remington University. But I do have a degree. In business management.”

“Ah.” He rubbed slow circles over her shoulders, his hands wide and strong on her back until they zeroed in on a bundle of muscles at the juncture of her shoulder blade and spine. He applied just enough pressure to make the last of her tension release in a rush, and Kennedy swallowed the moan drifting up from her chest.

“Good to know,” Gamble said. He’d shifted toward her, just enough to return the half-look she’d sent over her shoulder, and enough for her to catch the scent of him on her inhale. He smelled clean—not like soap or laundry detergent, and definitely not like cologne, but of something sexy and intoxicating all the same, and, suddenly, the pantry seemed to have all the square footage of a postage stamp.

Kennedy’s heart slammed in her rib cage, her nipples going traitorously tight beneath her bra. This was impulsive at best, and insane at worst, but right now, she didn’t care.

Right now, she wanted him.

She lifted her chin to look up at Gamble through the shadows. At five foot ten, she didn’t usually feel small around people, but between the seven inches he had on her in height and the wide expanse of his well-muscled chest so close behind her, he came as close to eclipsing her as anyone ever had. His hands were still on her shoulders, and although it was the only place their bodies touched, she felt the heat of him everywhere.

“Kennedy.” The glint in his already-dangerous stare told her he wanted exactly what she did. Kennedy nodded, just the briefest signal of consent, and in less than a breath, he moved. Skimming his hands to the tops of her arms, Gamble cupped her shoulders to turn her around. His fingers pressed against her bare skin below the cap sleeves of her top, and her sex clenched with greedy want.

But then he froze, every part of him going still except for his heart, which she felt beating swiftly against her chest. “Do you smell that?”

She blinked, trying—and failing—to make sense of the question. “I…what?”

He took a step back, his entire body coiling as he sent a calculating gaze over the pantry, then the kitchen beyond. “Your cook turned off all the ovens and the flat-top grill before he left, right?”

“Of course.” Marco had never once skipped such an important step in breaking down his station. “Why?”

Gamble paused, but only long enough to grab her hand before he said, “Because your bar is on fire.”

 

And don’t miss the first books in the Station Seventeen series! SKIN DEEP is FREE for a limited time only, and DEEP CHECK is just $.99! Grab your copies of the Station Seventeen series today!

 


About Kimberly Kincaid:

Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2015 RWA RITA® finalist who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.

 

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Pinterest * Instagram

 

CHASING HIM – A Kennedy Fox Excerpt Reveal

John Bishop isn’t your typical single dad.

Reserved, impatient, and utterly clueless.

Running the family’s bed and breakfast has many perks. Working long hours, picking up after the guests, and hearing couples going at it all night long aren’t any of them. Hooking up with girls who come to the ranch for horseback riding lessons? Best perk of them all.

That is until a baby shows up at his doorstep with a note claiming it’s his. Growing up on a ranch was anything but easy, but raising a newborn is proving to be the hardest task he’ll ever tackle. Leaving the bachelor life behind, his only priority is to hire a nanny who can teach him a thing or two about parenting—except he doesn’t anticipate her being gorgeous and quirky with an unhealthy football obsession.

Mila Carmichael has many talents—making balloon animals, creating origami art, and remaining in the friend zone. Often seen as one of the guys, she’s struck out more times than a rookie baseball player.

Seeking a new adventure, she flies to Texas to visit family and is offered a position she can’t refuse. Helping out a new dad should come easy to her, considering her past experience, but what she doesn’t anticipate is him being an attractive Southern temptation.

But that’s only the beginning.

While growing close to his family and falling madly in love with the baby girl who’s stealing their hearts, things are bound to get complicated. Everyone knows not to mix business with pleasure. That means no late movie nights, no stolen glances, and definitely no kissing behind closed doors. Too bad the universe has other plans—one that’ll threaten taking away the main thing that binds them together.

 

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥

Chasing Him will go live on iBooks/Kobo/B&N on June 26th and then be taken off and go live exclusively on Amazon June 28th!

Amazon US | Amazon International | iBooks | Kobo | B&N

 

Excerpt CHKF.png

John’s POV

It’s been three days since Mila started working for me and so far she’s been a complete blessing. I know Maize’s in safe keeping and that’s all I’ve ever wanted though I can’t say I’m getting any more sleep.

After lunch, I fall asleep again and this time I’m woken up by a guest bitching about a toilet issue. Usually, I’m friendly and have a smile plastered on my face, but honestly, I’m pissed. Mama caught wind of me snapping at someone and practically threatened to fire me, which I know would never happen, but it was a wake up call that I need more sleep at night and that’s not going to happen until Maize is sleeping in longer stretches. Any little noise I hear, I’m wide awake and then I can barely fall back asleep. By the time I do, it’s time to get up for work. I feel as if I could sleep for a week straight.

After falling asleep for the third time today, I force myself to stand the rest of my shift. I’ve had so many ridiculous things happen today that I swear it’s Friday the thirteenth. By the time I make it home, I’m so fucking exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open. When I walk in, I see Jackson flirting with Mila and it annoys the fuck out of me.

“Jackson, kitchen,” I bark when Mila walks into the room to check on Maize.

“What?” He looks at me, slyly.

Leaning against the counter, I cross my arms over my chest and give it to him straight. “Listen. There’s a few rules you need to adhere too.”

He sarcastically nods his head, which pisses me off further.

“Don’t look at my nanny like that ever again.”

“Like what?” he asks.

I narrow my eyes because he knows damn well what I’m talking about. “I don’t need you scaring her away and leaving me without help. So don’t hit on my nanny. Don’t flirt with her, ask her out, and don’t you dare fuck my nanny.”

He arches a brow and crosses his arms as if to ask if I’m done—as if to challenge me on everything I just listed.

“Basically, stay away from my nanny. Got it?”

Jackson bursts out into laughter. He’s doubled over trying to catch his breath but I’m as serious as a heart attack, ready to punch him in the chest and threaten his life if he breaks my rules.

“Why? Are you fucking her?” he asks, laughing with amusement. “God knows you’re worse than me.”

“No. Hell no. Those rules are for everyone, and if you break them, I’ll break your fucking neck.”

He leans over and whispers loud enough for just me to hear. “But you want to.”

 


Brooke Cumberland & Lyra Parish are a duo of romance authors who teamed up to write under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox. They share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!

Keep up with all their social media platforms for updates & info!

WEBSITE | NEWSLETTER | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM

MISTER TONIGHT – A Kendall Ryan Excerpt Reveal

From New York Times bestselling author Kendall Ryan comes a standalone romance about a swoony single dad and the new neighbor he falls for.

Last night was the most embarrassing night of my life.

I was THAT girl.

You know, the highly intoxicated chick celebrating her thirtieth with her two best friends—the ones who are happily married. And the more I drank, the more I wanted to do something reckless to celebrate.

By reckless, I meant the sexy and alluring man dressed in a business suit standing near the bar. You know his type—tall, dark, and handsome. I was sure he was out of my league, but I’d had just enough alcohol that things like that no longer seemed to matter. I’m not fat, mind you, but you can tell I like French fries, so there’s that.

He took me home and I enjoyed the hottest birthday sex of my life, well until it came to a screeching, and rather unwelcome halt.

There’s nothing quite like being interrupted mid-ride with a little voice asking:

“What are you doing to my daddy?”

Just kill me now…… or so I thought.

Come to find out the man I rode like a bull at the rodeo is my new landlord.

PRE-ORDER NOW

Kindle US | ✦Kindle UK | ✦iBooks | ✦Nook | ✦ Google | ✦Kobo | ✦Audio

 

Excerpt MTKR.png

Casual flings didn’t tend to handle the whole single-dad thing well. Single moms, on the other hand, fucking loved it. The idea of a man devoted to his kid had them panting for days. But casual, no-strings hookups? To them, me being a dad screamed one of two things: I was either an irresponsible asshole who couldn’t properly wrap it up, or I was a total commitment addict trying to lure them in with my adorable four-year-old child in need of a new mama. Either way, it usually didn’t go over well. But so far, Kate was handling it fine.

Then she crossed the room toward me, and a single thought pervaded my brain.

Fuck, she’s sexy.

All those curves and her throaty laugh, coupled with her confidence? I was a total sucker for a confident woman who knew what she wanted.

“Happy birthday,” I whispered, placing my hands on her waist and drawing her in close.

Just because this would most likely be a one-time thing didn’t mean I wanted to rush through it. Quite the opposite, actually. I wanted to savor and enjoy every minute of this. Starting with the perfect kiss.

“It’s almost midnight,” she murmured, her lips just inches from mine.

Placing one hand on her cheek, I guided her mouth to mine, sealing my lips over hers in a slow, soft kiss.

She responded perfectly, opening her mouth in a silent invitation for my tongue to slide against hers. My hands found those curves wrapped under that black fuck-me dress I’d been admiring, and God, she felt even better under my palms than I could have imagined. Soft and warm and so inviting.

I pressed one more slow kiss to her lips and pulled back to study her reaction. I rarely did this kind of thing. Having her here was surreal . . . and really fucking turning me on, knowing what was probably about to happen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, slipping my hand around her waist. If she’d changed her mind or wanted to slow things down, I wanted her to know that was fine too.

“I can think of other things I’d rather be doing with my mouth,” she replied, her voice low and sultry as she ran her fingertips over my chest.

God, I love a woman who knows what she wants.


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.

Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras

Subscribe to Newletter

Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

 

 

 

UNCONSCIOUS HEARTS – A Harper Sloan Review & Excerpt Reveal

phonto-29

Prepare for a story that hits hard, digs deep, and holds tight. Unconscious Hearts is a powerful romance with an alpha hero and a magnetic heroine that you’ll immediately fall for. Ari is a solitary woman; she has her store and her cat to keep her humble and her busy work life makes her happy. While there’s a heartbreak in her past that shares a darker secret, she’s trying to move on and find happiness in herself. Then he walks in to her shop. Covered in leather, dripping with sin, smelling like temptation. Thorn is made for lustful nights and stirs something in Ari she hasn’t felt for a long time.

Thorn doesn’t date. But the instant he set his sights on Ari Daniels he’s tempted to lay the world at her feet for just one night. It’s coincidence he found her shop, and the temptress wants to strike a bargain to finalize their deal. He just has to convince her that a night in his bed is worth the millions he’s selling her. As Thorn and Ari finally give in to desires their chemistry will set pages and e-readers on fire! Thorn is seriously sexy and if you think this classy man’s intense stare and powerful aura was enough…wait until he uses his 30 seconds to win Ari (you’ll need a glass of water…ICE water).

I love that Sloan slowly reveals the truth behind both Thorn and Ari’s past as well as why they initially fight their attractions to one another. There’s no huge history dump as you’re reading; you get discover why these characters are the way they are as if you were slowly learning about them as a friend in their world. Thorn decided to win Ari fully but her past is a big stone to push. As we catch glimpses of an evil lurking, you know the climax is going to be dark and cataclysmic. The power behind just how hard Torn and Ari are willing to fight for each other is unstoppable. I couldn’t put down this dark romance not just for the passion in each page but for how hard it pulls you in and has you begging for what comes next and that’s why it’s my latest 5 Star Read!

phonto-30


Ari Daniels didn’t count on her whole world tumbling down around her in a mess of shredded promises, broken love, and unbelievable heartbreak. Alone and stricken with grief, she shouldered the blame and eventually closed her heart off, refusing to open it for another. After all, anytime she tried, guilt and regret were waiting in the wings to remind her how painful it was.

A bet and one steamy night with a stranger force Ari to confront all she’s been hiding behind. She tries to move on, but he refuses to stand down, wanting what she is terrified to give—herself. This man may very well destroy her in the end, especially when it’s clear he has his own demons.

What happens when two broken souls come together, finally allowing themselves to believe in the beauty of love … only to have to fight harder than ever to keep it.

AVAILABLE NOW

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | BN | iBooks | Kobo

Excerpt UHHS.png

His eyes get hard for a beat before his features smooth back out.  “Yeah, beyond sure.  No one to pass this shit down to, and even if there was, I wouldn’t be givin’ someone ideas of materialistic bullshit if I did.  More to life than all this shit.”

“Okay, well, in that case …” I cough, not wanting to fight with him about our views when it comes to expensive wants versus needs.  Last time I tried to argue the benefits of learning to care for and value something you work hard to buy, I had a black eye for almost two weeks.   “In that case, I’m prepared to offer you a lump sum as a buyout for the whole collection, but I also want to mention, again, that consignment would be a more lucrative approach.  Our buyout is just a standard percent of resale value, but consignment would allow us to mark up each to give you a larger profit.”

“Told you, babe, want it gone.  I don’t give a shit about making it more lucrative.  Look around you, hardly hurting.”

“Still, it’s my obligation to make sure you’re informed.”

“Consider me informed.”

“Okay … so I can offer a tentative amount of three million.  I would need more time to inspect each item in depth for any defects that could affect the value and also to research a few pieces I feel may be limited editions so that could also affect the value.  Meaning that amount could go up or down, but I wouldn’t expect it to be less than two point five or more than four point seven-ish.  I wouldn’t need but maybe five days tops, and I can come during the day if that works better for your schedule.”

“You get this gone in two days, and I’ll take one mil.”

My whole body jerks back as if I had been slapped, staring at him like he was absolutely insane.

“That’s absolutely insane,” I tell him, voicing my thoughts.

“No, that’s me not giving a shit and wanting it gone so I can get out of this place and sell it and all this shit some hand with care placed around each room.  Woulda left this shit in and sold it with the house, but for some reason I’ll never understand, you’re here, and I still just want it gone.  You don’t need five days when I’m taking a two mil hit, babe.  That would waste your time and mine, and I’m not a huge fan of wasting my time.  Way I see it, you win, and I get a cold mil for some shit I didn’t buy nor care about.  So you get this shit outta here, and all I need is that.”

“Thorn, I can’t in good conscience accept that.”

“Then dirty that conscience up and laugh your tight little ass all the way to the bank.  Don’t give a shit as long as it’s gone, and I don’t have to do anything to make it that way.”

“This is insanity.”

“Insanity would be tossing it all at the Goodwill drop-off.  I’m making money.  You’re making money.  Only thing sweeter than making money is doing it while I’m getting my cock wet, and babe, that only happens when my stock rises at the same time my cock does.”  He steps closer, and I back into the island, my chest burning as I hold my breath.  “Course, never had four mil worth of shit to sell to a woman who makes my cock rise without even trying.”

“Thorn,” I whisper, placing my hand against his hard chest with the intention of pushing him back.  Only, the second his warmth burns through his shirt and hits my skin, I can’t move an inch.

“Ari,” he mocks, his eyes bright.

“I, uh, the paperwork …” I close my eyes and focus on my breaths and the words my mouth can’t seem to form.  When my heart slows enough that I won’t die of a heart attack right here in heaven, I look back up at him.  “You’re breaking my brain, Thorn.  Please step back so I can think clearly without my body trying to die on me.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he continues to gaze down at me, but he does step back.  My arm falling down to my side.

“As much as I wish I could have this room cleared out for you tomorrow, it will take at least until late Monday.  I’ll need to meet with you beforehand to have some legal paperwork signed for the sale due to its size.  But my lawyer is an old family friend, so I can have that by tomorrow around dinnertime, if you wouldn’t mind meeting me to take care of that.  I won’t be able to get the cashier’s check until after those are signed, so late Monday is the best I can offer you.”

“Want this shit gone, but it’s hardly a hardship to wait a few more days if that means I’ve got a few more opportunities to try to make you want me as much as you want this shit around you,” he says, his deep voice thick with desire.

“Good heavens, you don’t stop, do you?”

“Not unless you beg, babe.”

“I think it’s best we went back to keeping things professional, Mr. Evans.”

This time, it isn’t a ghost of a smile on his lips.  Oh, no.  Not this time.  If I thought he was handsome before this moment, I was a fool.  Because Thorn Evans giving you his full, unhindered smile and a gaze so thick with unspoken promise as it washes over you and creates a fire of the desire you already felt … well, that expression on him turns him from sinfully hot to heart-stopping and irresistible instantly.

“It would take me five minutes to get you to beg me for it, Ms. Daniels.  Admit it.”

Offended at the thought that I’m easy, I narrow my eyes.  Finally.  At least anger is an emotion I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with.  “I’m not sure what kind of women you’re used to, but I promise you, I am not that type of woman.”

“Maybe three,” he oddly says, ignoring me.

“Three, what?” I snap.

“Minutes, sweetness.  Three minutes and you’d be begging me for all this shit and my cock.”

My mouth flounders, and I gasp.

“Though, pretty sure I could get that in less than a minute and get you doin’ all the work while I watch from my back.”

My arm is up, palm cracking against his cheek before I have the ability to do anything to stop it.  “I think we’re done here.”

I walk around him, ready to find my way out and let him find someone else to take all of this off his hands even if it kills a little part of my lux loving soul.  When his hand curls around my bicep—not painfully, but firm enough to make me stop—I look over my shoulder with a frown.  For a man who was just slapped, he looks almost gleeful.

“One minute, Ari.  Give me a minute and if you aren’t ready to beg me for it, when those sixty seconds are up, you can take this shit and not give me a penny for it.”

Walk away, Ari.  Walk.  Away.  No amount of money is worth being some man’s whore.

Spinning away from his hold, I jerk my arm free and step toward him with a roll up to my toes, getting my face as close to his as I can.  His scent overwhelms me. The subtle notes of his cologne fog my rational thought, making me drunk with need, and I sway slightly before correcting myself.

“Thirty seconds,”  I retort, my jaw tight with stubbornness.

I’m not sure who I shocked more—him or me.  I have my answer, though, when I see victory flash in his eyes.  Oh, my God … what have I done?

“You’re on,” he agrees, his eyes alight with the promise backed up by his devilish grin.

I nod, incapable of anything more.  I stand there in shocked silence as he takes my phone, his thick fingers moving quickly over the screen.  I vaguely hear a chime from his pocket and before I can so much as blink, he’s handing me my things.

“Tomorrow, I’ll text you.  Paperwork first, then you beg.”

I gulp, jerk my head in what I hope resembles a nod of agreement, and then … I flee.


harper1Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn’t writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand.

Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

Copy provided

DIRTY-TALKING COWBOY – A Stacey Kennedy Review & Excerpt Reveal

I may have a thing for cowboy romances now. Stacey Kennedy’s new Kinky Spurs series focuses on the Blackshaw brothers. Sexy, swoony, and definitely romance hero material; these three cowboys are here to rope you into their hearts!

Emma has returned to her summer home of her grandmother who’s recently passed. The areas of land and animals couldn’t have come at a better time when Emma needs an escape to heal from heartbreak. She’s left her job and lost the man she thought loved her all in the same day. Licking her wounds in River Rock seems the perfect distraction from the mess of her life. The unplanned distraction? The mysterious cowboy who comes in to the bar, Kinky Spurs, and always locks eyes with her. But Kinky Spurs isn’t just in name; it’s claim to fame is it’s sexy cowboys that come in to “rope” themselves a woman. With a last minute change, Emma is on stage with her mysterious cowboy, Shep Blackshaw. Piercing eyes, smoking body, and a killer smile….Emma is doomed.

After their family loses their father, Shep and his brothers have to make a decision on their families business. A distraction is just what Shep needs from his new responsibilities and nothing is more eye catching than the sexy new bartender at Kinky Spurs. Shep is determined to find out more about her after their steamy on stage encounter with a rope and some intimate eye-locking. When one of Emma’s new horses drags her on a wild chase, Shep is there to save the day and keep her close. But what seemed to be a fun fling for the womanizing cowboy is quickly turning in to a true romance neither planned for.

Their own perceived futures are what get in they way for Emma and Shep. When a piece of Emma’s past comes back to threaten what these two have built, their quiet content country romance is all but shattered. Shep is amazingly charming; I loved his mix of country boy next door and bad boy in the sheets. Emma was a headstrong heroine but I liked her vulnerabilities in trusting her own instincts; it made her incredibly relatable. This is a quick and emotion filled romance for any fan; cowboy, small town, triangle, all of the above. I can’t wait to read more of our Blackshaw brothers based on the teases of the two younger brothers love interests!


DirtyTalkingCowboy_Cover.jpg

Emma Monroe has returned to River Rock, Colorado, after the death of her grandmother. Now she’s inherited a farm full of abused animals and she’s working as a waitress at the local hotspot, Kinky Spurs. The last thing Emma wants in her life is a man, as she’s still recovering from a recent heartbreak. But when a sensual and powerful cowboy, Shep Blackshaw enters her life, Emma begins to want things she shouldn’t.

Shep knows sex shouldn’t be on his mind. He’s got a world of responsibility on his shoulders. He’s attempting to save his late father’s cattle ranch, Blackshaw Cattle Company, from foreclosure. But Emma’s heated reactions to his touch make ignoring her impossible. She’s the perfect distraction to make him forget that his father’s company is a sinking ship.

While their nights only heat up, soon emotions become tangled into the mix. Shep’s not only giving Emma the hottest nights of her life, he’s also healing her heart. With every encounter, she forgets her heartbreak. With every naughty adventure, she stops mourning the life she left behind. And with every dirty word whispered from Shep’s mouth, she stops thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn’t fall for him. But when the past comes to claim Emma, she’ll need to choose between the life she thought she wanted and the life she’s grown to love with Shep. How will she say no to forever with a dirty-talking cowboy.

ORDER YOUR COPY NOW!

 AMAZON | B&N | IBOOKS | KOBO | GOOGLEPLAY

DirtyTalkingCowboy_Whim1

Excerpt DTC.png

Emma spun on her heels, opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. All sadness fled in a millisecond.

Leaning against the doorframe, Shep wore only his jeans, no shirt in sight. Oh my fucking God. Dream Shep had nothing on the real thing. Anyone could tell that Shep worked hard for a living. He didn’t seem the type of man that would spend hours in the gym, indicating his job was the reason he was built for hard labor. His wide shoulders, squared chest, gloriously perfect six-pack with deep ridges made for exploring fingers—all of it was mouthwateringly hot.

His voice deepened into a low rumbly tone. “Darlin’, you really need to stop looking at me like that.”

She lifted her gaze to his potent stare. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” The side of his mouth curved, like he knew the power he had over her. “I happen to enjoy watching you eye-fuck me, but you’re making it hard for me to be a gentleman.”

Her knees weakened, heart raced. How tempting it was to engulf this fiery passion burning between them, not run from it. And how confusing was that? No more casual sex, wasn’t that what she said? She knew where relationships like that ended up, nowhere good. Yet, her mouth parted, and out came, “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

Something fierce crossed his expression then, darkening his eyes. He stepped forward, bringing all that strong manly heat in close. He smelled of rain and wood and all that was perfect in this world. He dipped his head, and all she had to do was reach out and touch him. “What exactly do you want from me, Emma?” His lips were right there. His naked flesh, right there. “Do you want me to take control of you and roughly take what’s mine for the night?”

His sexy smile revealed a horrible truth. She nearly melted into the floor. “Oh, dear Lord, I told you about my dream?” Please say no. Please say no.

He lifted his hand, gently dragging his knuckles across her cheek. “Ah, but I happen to like that dream you had and shared with me.” He slid his thumb across her chin, tilting her head up to stare deeply into his gorgeous eyes. “You still haven’t answered me. Do you want me to kiss you slowly, savoring every little bit of your mouth?” His thumb brushed across the plumpest part of her bottom lip. “Or shall I punish you with my kiss, making you regret that you ever turned me down?” The heat of his body sizzled against her as he leaned in closer, his warm breath across her mouth. “Tell me, Emma, shall I tie you up with my ropes like I already have? Do you remember what that felt like? Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“You know I liked it,” she managed, breathless.

His grin was pure sin. “You’re right, I do know that.” He dragged his knuckles over her flushing cheek again, seemingly touching her soul-deep. Her mouth parted, breaths became heavier when he ran the pads of his fingers slowly down her arms, the power he exuded like a wall of strength in front of her. “Tell me, Emma,” he finished.

The words nearly fell out of her mouth. She wanted to experience his brand of passion. She got the feeling if she let go with him, he’d deliver where others had failed. Almost as if he’d take away all the pain, all the confusion, and silence her fears.

Her mouth parted to say, Make me forget it all. The words died in her throat. Her fears were bigger and stronger than her desire. She’d been fooled by one man before. The icy cold reminder still splintered her heart, there and unavoidable. “I can’t,” she said softly.

“You can’t.” There was no disappointment in his voice, only firmness. “Then I can’t.”

He took her hand into the strength of his, and she slowly opened her eyes, her breath catching at the contained power in his expression.

Shep breathed sex and passion, and the danger of him presented itself to her. Causal sex was one thing, but she got the feeling Shep didn’t do causal sex. He was pure emotion, total connection, and all intimacy. He’d wrap her up emotionally and take everything she had, and when he was finished with her, he’d demand more.

With his eyes locked onto hers, he led her from the bedroom. Once in the hallway, he turned to her, leaned in, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Emma.”

She could finally breathe again. “Good night, Shep.”

Then with that blazing-hot gaze pinning her to where she stood, he shut the bedroom door, leaving her, and all her thoughts, alone in the quiet hallway.

DirtyTalkingCowboy_Whim2


CONNECT WITH STACEY

USA Today bestselling author Stacey Kennedy has written more than forty romances, including titles in her wildly hot Kinky Spurs, Club Sin, and Filthy Dirty Love series. Her books are about real people with real-life problems, searching for that special thing we call love…in a very sexy way. When she’s not burning up the pages and setting e-readers ablaze, she’s living her happily ever after with her husband and two young children in southwestern Ontario. She’s a firm believer that wine, chocolate, and sinfully sexy books can cure all of life’s problems.

Authors Links

Website: www.staceykennedy.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorstaceykennedy

Twitter: twitter.com/Stacey_Kennedy

 

Copy provided

PART-TIME LOVER – A Lauren Blakely Review, Excerpt Reveal & Giveaway

Swoon alert! Blakely’s latest destination romance is filled with charm, wit, and some passionate foreigners! A chance encounter in another country…a year ago Elise spotted the elusive Mad Naked Handstander of Copenhagen on a tour. On a dare the exchange words and agree to meet at a local bar for a date. Ah but the struggle of tourist mix-ups, Elise misses her chance and thinks she’ll nervous see the mysteriously sexy Viking again. But fate would have another say; when visiting her friend and her new man, who should be their compatriot but the daring Dane himself. A few wistful dates and a crazy notion (crazier than asking out the Mad Naked Handstander of Copenhagen) is laid at their feet.

Christian was heartbroken that his delightful flirt never showed for their date a year ago. So when fate puts her back into his path, he doesn’t hesitate to *ahem* give her the full monty…JK he doesn’t hold back on the charm AT ALL. Christian is smooth, funny, and an ostentatious flirt. I loved this lighthearted hero! Now for the challenge: in order to save his family’s company, and all the hard work his brother’s put in to it, he must marry. I did not think I’d be here for a marriage of convenience but that’s what you get and it could not be more fated!

One word comes to mind with Christian and Elise’s story: whirlwind. Its a whirlwind romance that took a year to land on solid ground and then a few weeks from there to hold steady. And Elise, my my it’s been sometime since I’ve found the HEROINE the charming creature of a romantic duo. But Elise is just that,the elusive lady of flavor; she’s filled with splendor, poetry, flirtatious and living life as she sees fit. It makes sense that a woman who searches to enjoy life’s pleasures would find a man just so daring. I’m so glad to have another classic romance from Blakely!


 PART-TIME LOVER promises full-time satisfaction…

What do you get when you mix a charming British hero, a temporary marriage of convenience, and a smart & sassy heroine? PART-TIME LOVER, the brand new, standalone rom-com from #1 New York Times bestseller Lauren Blakely! Get your copy of PART-TIME LOVER now!

✮✮✮PART-TIME LOVER is here! Grab your copy today! ✮✮✮

I’ll say this about Christian — he made one hell of a first impression. When I first saw the strapping man, he was doing handstands naked on a dock along the canal. His crown jewels were far more entertaining than anything else I’d seen on the boat tour, so I did what any curious woman would do — I took his photo. I might have looked at the shot a few dozen times. Little did I know I’d meet him again, a year later, at a secret garden bar in the heart of the city, where I’d learn that his mind and his mouth were even more captivating. But given the way my heart had been trampled, I wanted only a simple deal — No strings. No expectations.

Our arrangement worked well enough until the day I needed a lot more from him…

***

Let me just say, this whole part-time lover thing was her idea. I’d have gone all-in from the start, but hey, when a gorgeous, brilliant woman invites you into her bed, and only her bed…well, I said yes.

But then, one hysterical phone call from my brother later, begging me to find myself a wife so grandfather’s business stays in the family, and I need a promotion with Elise. Turns out a full-time husband suits her needs too, and a temporary marriage of convenience ought to do the trick, until we can simply untie the knot…

As long as no one finds out…
As long as no one gets hurt…
As long as no one falls in love…

But our ending was one I never saw coming.

ORDER YOUR COPIES HERE!

Kindle US ➜https://amzn.to/2JhnUqc
Kindle UK ➜https://amzn.to/2ksyZWH
Kindle CA ➜https://amzn.to/2KXJxbA
Kindle AU ➜https://amzn.to/2sm6Jsu
iBooks ➜http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-iTunes
Kobo ➜http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-Kobo
B&N ➜http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-Nook
Google Play ➜http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-GP
Amazon PB ➜http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-PB


✦The audiobook is narrated by Shane East and Grace Grant! ✦
Audio ➜ http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-Audible  OR http://blkly.pub/PT-Lover-Audio


ADD IT TO YOUR GOODREADS TODAY!

“Characters that are as bold and carefree as they are vulnerable and introspective, banter that’s rife with wit, humor, and innuendo, and a teasing, agonizingly slow-building romance make Part-Time Lover a gripping love story. From start to finish, Part-Time Lover will have you laughing and swooning and falling in love with love.” -Yvette, Nose Stuck in a Book

“Jam-packed with Blakely’s keen attention to detail, her fabulous sense of humor and a sexy, sweet, consuming romance, Part-Time Lover was a heart-fluttering, full of hope joy to read.” -Red Cheeks Reads


Excerpt PTL.png

~Christian~

A year ago

I stroll up the hilly yard toward my house, passing my brother, Erik, who stands close to the porch. “Did you scare them all away? Admit it—they cringed in terror, scary movie—style.”

I slash an arm through the air. “Whole boatload of them. Tears, shrieks of horror. Wailing.”

He cringes dramatically.

“Toss me a towel, will you? Or do you want to continue to admire your more fit and handsome younger brother?”

Erik scoffs and throws the towel over the porch railing, away from me.

I shrug. “I’ll just go inside, and you can check out my arse.”

“You can count on me never ever checking out your arse.”

I grab the handle on the sliding-glass door and head inside to one of my homes. You can’t beat a home on the water. But then, a flat in Paris is hard for me to say no to as well. Good thing I get to have both.

I grab the pair of boxer briefs I left on the couch and tug them on as Erik follows me inside.

“Seriously. How did it go?”

“Exceptionally well. I landed a date tonight.”

“Bastard. You’re not supposed to get dates when you flash the tourists, and especially not when your beloved brother is only in town with you for a few days.” Most of the time Erik’s in London, where we were raised.

“Jealous much?” I ask, heading for the fridge and pouring a glass of cold water.

Erik flexes a bicep, then another, posing like he’s Mr. Olympia. “I’ve scored plenty of dates with this fabulous physique. Just none lately.”

“That would be because you’re married, you tosser.”

He flashes a dimpled grin. He’s so ridiculously in love with his wife, it’s nearly disgusting. He could be the poster child for man-who-falls-arse-over-elbow-for-a-woman. That’s something I can’t say for all the men in my family.

“I’m like Grandfather, happy as a clam.”

I furrow my brow. “How does anyone know clams are happy? Is there a study on clam happiness? We all assume they’re rays of sunshine, but how do we know?”

He scratches his chin. “Good question.”

“I bet they aren’t happy at all. I bet they feel nothing. Is that what happiness should feel like? Nothing?”

He sighs. “Aren’t you philosophical today?”

“Maybe. It happens every now and then.” I take a drink of the water. “But what can you do? Sometimes deep thoughts stray into my brain, and I can’t help it.”

“Best to get them out of your head if you have a date tonight.”

“Perhaps she likes thinkers,” I suggest.

“So who is she? Did you exchange numbers on the dock? Or did you, I don’t know, play charades with your appendages swinging in the breeze?”

“Yes. I can do Morse code with my dick.”

“Such a useful skill,” he deadpans.

“We did it the old-fashioned way. Picked a spot to meet and a time.”

He raises his chin. “And why her? Of all the ladies on all the tours you’ve ever flashed, you haven’t asked one out before. Not that you’ve told me about anyway.”

I let my brain rewind to the petite brunette with the big sunglasses who ogled me unabashedly from the side of the boat. She was pretty, that much I could tell even from fifty feet away.

But pretty alone isn’t enough. Pretty is a dime a dozen. I’ve dated women who aren’t pretty, but are witty, clever, and keep me on my toes. I like those traits just as much. Perhaps more. But I’m not opposed to pretty either.

Obviously.

“She was bold. She called out bravo. She said it louder than anyone ever has.”

“So she knows how to read your Morse code.”

“She’s welcome to read Morse code on me anytime. Come to think of it, she can even treat me like I’m fruit at the market.”

Erik laughs. “In some countries, they don’t let you touch fruit at the market.”

I gesture to my body, from my chest down to my legs. “In the fine country of Christian Land, it’s highly encouraged for the bold brunettes to touch the fruit.”


“…a beautiful, compelling, alluring story of opening up your heart again to love and all the possibilities of it.” –Bookish Aurora

✮✮✮Get full-time satisfaction with this PART-TIME LOVER giveaway! ✮✮✮

Let’s celebrate the release of Christian and Elise’s romance
with a Kate Spade Tote ($200 value) and $50 Gift Card to Sephora for your own Scentsual Fragrance!

https://laurenblakely.com/part-time-lover-giveaway/


About Lauren Blakely:

A #1 New York Times Bestselling author, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s hot, sweet and sexy. She lives in California with her family and has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 95 times, and she’s sold more than 2.5 million books. In June she’ll release PART-TIME LOVER, a sexy new standalone romance. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

 

Copy provided

SPEAKEASY – A Sarina Bowen Excerpt Reveal

SpeakeasyWeb.jpg

Sometimes you fall for Mr. Right. And sometimes for Mr. Right Now…

May
Did you hear the one about the girl who walks into a bar and catches her live-in lover kissing someone else? No? You’re the only one in town who missed it.

Luckily Alec is there to wrap me up in strong arms and carry me out the door before things get too ugly. And that’s not all Alec is good at. Our unexpected chemistry makes him the perfect rebound guy.

Alec
I should know better than to hook up with my rival’s little sister, but the fiery look in May’s eyes really turns my crank. She needs cheering up, and I’m just the guy for the job.

It’s not like I’ll fall in love. Not even after a string of scorching hot trysts, and the realization that we’re good at the same things: wild nights and familial disappointment. I don’t do love, never have, never will. So this is the perfect arrangement, for both of us.

Nobody would approve, but nobody has to know…

blurb

ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

AMAZON | IBOOKS | KOBO | B&N

 

SPEAKEASY – A Sarina Bowen Review

Excerpt SE.png

Someone appears in my peripheral vision. I get half a glance at a lithe body and long hair as a woman appears and then just as quickly retreats.

Wait. Was that…?

I ease my way down the aisle, past the snowboard bags and ski duffels, and then I peer around the corner just in time to spot May Shipley exiting the store.

Several lengthy strides carry me right out the door after her. May has exquisite long legs, so she’s making good time escaping from me across the parking lot. I put two fingers in my mouth and make a cat-call whistle.

May halts midstride. Busted. She turns around and regards me with a sheepish smile.

God, just one smile from her and I feel better already. I raise a finger and beckon. Then I lean against the brick exterior of the shop and wait.

She lifts her chin and walks toward me.

“May Shipley,” I complain as she approaches. “Am I crazy or did you just leave the building to avoid me back there?”

She puts one hand over her pretty eyes and laughs. “Okay, you caught me. Don’t make me feel worse.”

“Do we have a problem, here?” I reach out and tag her hand, then pull her closer to me. We’re toe to toe, though several layers of winter clothing separate us. Still, my whole body hums at the memory of her riding me in my truck. Gawd. So hot. “I get that our lawyer party date got a little crazy.”

“You think?” she squeaks. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? So we had a little spur-of-the-moment sex. You really enjoyed my spur for a moment.”

“Omigod, stop.” May throws her head back and laughs. Her eyes dance, and I’m wearing a giant smile and feeling much more like myself.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I had a lot of fun.” That’s an understatement. I can’t stop thinking about it. Spontaneous truck sex with a long-legged beauty moaning on my dick? That night has made my personal hall of fame.

“Okay. I’ll try.” But the color in her cheeks is unmistakable. It’s cute as fuck.

“Come here.” I pull her into a hug, and she feels terrific against my body. “Let’s not be weird.”

May lifts her face in surprise. “I said that same thing to a good friend once.”

“Did it work?” I whisper because we’re so close together.

“Nope. Still weird.” She grins.

I laugh. And then I kiss her. I don’t even know how it happens. One second I’m just appreciating her smile, and the next second I’m owning it with my mouth.

May lets out a surprised whimper before her mouth softens under mine. I take my time kissing her until her hands spread the two halves of my jacket, finding my chest, gripping my flannel shirt. I need to taste her, so I part her lips with my tongue.

Suddenly my shoulder blades hit the bricks as May presses me up against the wall.

No, ma’am. I’ve just spent five nights imagining a scenario where our next encounter plays out in reverse—with me in charge. So I spin her around and back her up against the wall instead. And for good measure I pin her questing hands in mine, just because I can.

She makes a hungry noise, and I feel it in my balls. And then I dive back into her kisses, one of my thighs between her long legs.

May fights me, if by fighting me you mean she presses her hips against mine and gives me a nice, dirty grind.

I never liked the Shipleys, but now I realize I was hanging out with the wrong ones.

We lose our minds for several amazing minutes until the door of the ski shop opens suddenly. I take a quick step backward to preserve what’s left of our dignity.

Not that it works. We’re both flushed and panting, and I look like I’m trying to conceal a ski pole in the crotch of my jeans.

The young woman exiting the shop gives us a quizzical look as she bleeps the locks on her car.

“Jesus,” May breathes as we blink at each other.

“I know.” Every part of me is horny now. It’s cold outside, but I’m hot everywhere. My clothes feel constricting. I want to drag May back into my truck and have my way with her again.

“What are we doing?”

“Well, babydoll, we’re dry-humping each other in a parking lot.”

“Alec!” She reaches up, clapping a hand over my mouth. “That was a rhetorical question.”

I nod to show her I understand. But then I stick out my tongue and lick her palm where it’s pressed to my lips.

“Omigod, stop.” She removes her hand and wipes it on my flannel.

“You don’t really want me to. Admit it.”

“No, really I do.” Her embarrassed smile comes back. It’s so fucking cute. “I don’t need to be arrested for indecent exposure.”

“Fair enough. But that’s why you’re going to come over tonight. Late. Like eleven.” I’m supposed to be tending bar until ten and then closing up early, because it’s Sunday night.

“Why?”

“Why do you think? So I can strip you down and lick you all over until you’re screaming my—”

May puts that hand over my mouth again. “Anyone could hear you.”

“Nah,” I say from under her hand. She removes it. “I have brick walls at home. It helps with sound control. So even when my headboard starts to bang while I’m fucking you—”

She tries to cover my mouth again, but this time I catch her hand in midair, because I’m a sex ninja. And I hold it in mine. “Just come over. I’ve been thinking about you all week. Once wasn’t enough.” I lift her palm to my mouth and kiss it tenderly.

“Apparently not.” Her cheeks pink up. “But I really can’t get involved with anyone right now.”

“Duh.” I actually roll my eyes. “I’m your rebound lay. Relationships aren’t my style, and I’m allergic to commitment. So we’ll have exactly the same expectations—some very athletic sex.”

Her lips part on an dreamy expression, but then she snaps them closed again.

“Don’t overthink it, counselor. The judge orders you to his chambers at ten.”

Sarina-bowen-speakeasy

 


Sarina Bowen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She lives in Vermont’s Green Mountains with her family, six chickens and too much ski gear and hockey equipment.

In 2016, Sarina became a Rita Award winner! The Romance Writers of America honored HIM by Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy with Best Contemporary Romance, Mid-Length.

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS | PINTEREST

 

I FLIPPING LOVE YOU – A Helena Hunting Review, Chapter Reveal & Giveaway

Bancroft has his humor and that BODY, Lex has…all his sexy Lexy-ness, but Pierce….a suave combination of business man meets guy next door HOT! Rian and her twin are trying to finally make a name (their OWN name) for themselves keeping the mess her family left them in the dark. Flipping houses is a delicate endeavor and crunching numbers to get them done is Rian’s specialty; people…that’s all her sister Marley’s area. So when Marley manages to catch the negative eye of one sexy Pierce and he mistakes her for her twin….oh intrigue and hilarity ensue.

Pierce’s relentless pursuit of Rian is filled with some interesting pranks, some peculiar places for steamy scenes, and one crazy brother. Ironically, Pierce and his brother are in the same business and neighborhood as Rian and Marley’s. A mix of office romance with forbidden romance as these two battle for real estate in the Hamptons and each other hearts. A twist of circumstance and readers won’t be sure where loyalties truly lie and if these two can find that elusive HEA after a torrid summer affair.

Hunting puts out fiery after fiery read. Always win a vein of hilarity her books are real romance with an air of lightness one every story. There’s always an ulterior motive, another line of some a-hole character to mess up our hero and heroines carefully laid plans. But Hunting manages to build characters you despise as much as you love. While their stories unfold prepare to fight alongside them as they try to reach their …ahem…climax; these characters will become your beloved friends and you’ll be begging for more!


i flipping love you- New Cover.jpg SHE’S GOT CURB APPEAL. HE’S A FIXER UPPER…

From New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting comes I Flipping Love You, a love story about flipping houses, taking risks, and landing that special someone who’s move-in ready.

Rian Sutter grew up with the finer things in life. Spending summers in the Hamptons was a normal occurrence for her until her parents lost everything years ago. Now Rian and her sister are getting their life, and finances, back on track through real estate. Not only do they buy and sell houses to the rich and famous but they finally have the capital to flip their very own beachfront property. But when she catches the attention of a sexy stranger who snaps up every house from under her, all bets are off…

Pierce Whitfield doesn’t normally demo kitchens, install dry wall, or tear apart a beautiful woman’s dreams. He’s just a down-on-his-luck lawyer who needed a break from the city and agreed to help his brother work on a few homes in the Hamptons. When he first meets Rian, the attraction is undeniable. But when they start competing for the same pieces of prime real estate, the early sparks turn into full-blown fireworks. Can these passionate rivals turn up the heat on their budding romance—without burning down the house?

ORDER YOUR COPY NOW!

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-a-Million | IndieBound | Powells

“Fun, sexy, and full of heart…Helena Hunting has done it again!”—USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow (on Shacking Up)

Chapter ifly.png

CHAPTER 1
ANGRY HOT GUY

RIAN
I flip through my stack of flyers, checking for a sale on the jumbo box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal so I can price match it. I’m a conscientious price matcher. I mark the sale with a big circle before tucking the red Sharpie into the front of my shirt. If I’m going to wheel and deal at the cash register, I want to make it as easy as possible for the cashier and the people in line behind me. Nothing is worse than getting stuck behind an unorganized price matcher.
I shimmy a little to the song playing over the store intercom as I toss boxes of my most favorite, unhealthy cereal in my cart. A prickly feeling climbs the back of my neck, and I shiver, glancing over my shoulder. A mom rushes past me down the aisle, her toddler leaning precariously out of the cart in an attempt to grab a box of Fruit Roll-Ups. I can’t blame him. They are artificially delicious.
But the mom-toddler combo isn’t the reason for the prickly feeling. Halfway down the aisle is a suit. A big suit. Well over six feet of man wrapped in expensive charcoal-gray fabric. He doesn’t have a cart or a basket. And he’s staring at me. Weird. I can’t look at him long enough to decide if he’s familiar or not without making it obvious that I’m staring back.
I have the urge to check my appearance, worried I have his attention because my hair is a mess, or there’s a sweat stain down the center of my back. I’m not particularly appealing at the moment. I’ve just come from a boot camp class at this new gym my twin sister forced me to try out.
Marley bought an online two-for-one coupon for forty bucks, so now I have to attend six of these stupid classes with her. I managed to get out of last week’s class, but she wouldn’t let me escape two weeks in a row. My tank is still dewy, post-exertion, I have terrible under-boob sweat, and my thong is all wonky. If I were alone in this aisle, I’d for sure fix the last issue, but suit guy is here so I must leave the thong where it is for now, wedged uncomfortably between my vagina lips.
The suit quickly shifts his attention to the shelves and picks up the jar directly in front of him, which happens to contain prunes. He inspects it, then maybe realizes what it is, because he rushes to return it, exchanging it for another item. I bite back a smile, pleased that even in my disgusting state I’m being checked out.
As suit man gives the shelf in front of him his full attention, I return the checkout favor. His attire and his posture scream money and a twinge of something like longing combined with jealousy makes my throat momentarily tight. At one time, price matching was a practice I would’ve laughed at—like an entitled jerk—now it’s a necessity.
Suit man must be warm, considering it’s late April and we’re experiencing temperatures far above average for this time of year. Based on the tapered fit of his suit, I’m guessing it’s a high-end brand. He’s complemented it with black patent leather shoes. Very impractical for this weather and location. Does he realize he’s in the Hamptons?
He’s wearing a watch, and from his profile, he can’t be much beyond his early thirties. I have to assume the only reason for the watch is because it’s expensive and he wants to show it off. In my head, I’ve already profiled him as a pretentious, rich prick who probably commutes to NYC a few times a week where he bones his secretary and has a penthouse with the barest of furniture. The rest of the time he works from home.
I return to shopping and continue down the aisle, in the opposite direction of the suit—it’s my way of finding out if he’s actually creeping on me or not. I keep tabs on him in my peripheral vision as I scope out more sales and more delicious, unhealthy food items. My job is to balance out all the fruit and vegetables my sister, Marley, is currently picking out in the produce section.
I grab a jar of the no-name peanut butter since we’re out and the good stuff isn’t on sale, dropping it in the cart. My phone keeps buzzing in my purse. It’s distracting, so I give up ignoring it and check my messages.
It’s my sister.
We’re in the same store. It’s not particularly huge, so I don’t know what could be so pressing that she needs to text four thousand times instead of finding me.
ABORT SHOPPING
LEAVE NOW
Meet me in parking lot
RIAN??????
Jeez. What the heck is going on? Maybe the grocery store is being robbed. Holy Hot Pockets. What if there is a grocery store heist going down? I’m about to abandon my cart in a bid to find Marley and escape the mayhem I’ve created in my head. It’s all very dramatic. As I turn, I come face-to-face with the suit.
I suck in a breath and slap my hand over my chest. The tank is still damp, and my skin’s a little gritty with salt-sweat, so I drop it quickly, because ew.
“Hi.” His expression is hard to read. He seems … smug.
“Hi, hey. Uh…” I wave a hand around in the air, a little flustered, and conflicted, because it’s not often I get approached by a guy this hot—and in a grocery store of all places. Maybe he’ll be here again next week. “I’m sorry, I’d like to stare at your pretty face, I mean…” Crap, why are words so hard? “I have to go.”
I try to step around him, but he mirrors the movement, taking a linebacker stance, as if he’s considering tackling me. Which is an odd way to stage an introduction.
“Recognize me?” he asks, one perfect eyebrow arched.
As I take him in, I wrack my brain for a time or place I might’ve run into him before. I don’t think so, though. His light brown hair is neatly styled, and the cut of his suit highlights all of his assets. Well, the visible PG ones, anyway.
He widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest. His very broad chest. The sleeves of his suit jacket pull tight, biceps bulging and flexing. He’s a bit intimidating based on his size alone, but we’re in a public grocery store, so I feel relatively safe. And he’s just so gorgeous. Which is a silly reason not to be concerned, some of the most notorious serial killers are attractive men. Also, I need to find my sister, in case the grocery store is really under attack—although maybe this suit could save us.
I adopt his crossed arm pose, but I don’t think I look intimidating. All I succeed in doing is awkwardly squeezing my boobs together inside my damp sports bra and jabbing the right one with the Sharpie. “Should I?”
He looks me over, a slight smirk tipping his mouth. His gaze gets stuck on the Sharpie for a few seconds before they come back up to my eyes.
It’s possible I met him in a bar, but I swear I’d remember his face if I did. The bar scene is also more my sister’s speed than it is mine. Oh God. It’s also possible he’s mistaking me for her. It’s happened before.
While we look nearly identical at first to most people, we’re actually fraternal twins. After a few interactions, most people can tell us apart. I have a distinctive Marilyn Monroe mole on the right side above my lip, and my eyes are amber, where Marley’s are closer to green. My mouth is too big for my face, my lips a little too full and my nose too small. At least that’s my perception. Marley’s also the more outgoing of the two of us and an inch taller. And about ten pounds lighter.
Marley is a little less cautious than I am with men, so there have been a few uncomfortable occasions where her previous hookups have approached me, asking why I haven’t returned their calls. It’s too bad if this is the case, because this guy is inordinately attractive and it would be nice if he wasn’t one of my sister’s castoffs.
His face is a masterpiece of masculine perfection; straight nose, high cheekbones, an angular jawline that could cut glass, full lips. Especially the bottom one. The kind of full that makes me think of kissing, with tongue, of course. He’s all-American handsome with a shot of alpha hotness. It’s a lethal combination for the state of my already damp panties.
“I recognize you.” He has a low, rough voice, like the delicious scrape of fine grit sandpaper.
He breaks me out of my ogle daze. He must think I’m Marley. I’m actually rather disappointed. “I think maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Oh no, sweetheart.” His gaze rakes over me again. I feel very naked all of a sudden. And hot. It’s really hot in here. “You drive a powder-blue Buick.”
“How the heck—”
“I knew it!” he shouts, eyes alight with some kind of weird, victorious satisfaction as he points a long finger with a blue-black nail at me. Maybe he slammed it in a door or something. Or based on the way he’s rudely pointing, maybe someone slammed it for him. “I fucking knew it! You hit my car.”
I definitely would’ve remembered hitting someone’s car, especially if a guy this good looking was driving it. He should probably come with a warning, like: Panties may combust if you get too close, or something. I take a step back since he’s all up in my grill and clearly he’s not looking to flirt like I originally thought. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb with me! You think you can flip your ponytail”—he reaches out and flicks the end, which is rather startling—“flash a smile and some cleavage, and it’s going to get you out of this. Well, think again, sweetheart. I guarantee my paint is still all over your bumper.” He’s leaning over me, face way too close to mine. So close I can see tiny gold flecks in his deep green eyes. They’re an unusual shade. Dark like pine tree needles.
And he’s chewing gum. Juicy Fruit. I can smell it when he breathes in my face. I would’ve expected a man like him to chew something more along the lines of Polar Ice, or Arctic Ice—strong mint.
I put a hand on his chest and take one deliberate step backward as he opens his mouth to resume his tangent. It’s a solid chest. Extremely hard. His gaze darts down, brows furrowed. I use his distracted state to my advantage. “First of all…” I point my finger in his face, like he did to me. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. That’s condescending. Secondly, I’m sure I would’ve noticed if I’d hit another car. Thirdly, there are literally hundreds of powder-blue Buicks in this stupid city. It’s not an uncommon car. And I’d like to point out, that the cleavage comment was completely unnecessary and unwarranted and actually, pretty damn sexist.”
He blinks a couple of times, possibly taken aback. That expression doesn’t last long. His lip curls in a sneer and that pretty all-American handsomeness morphs into downright malevolent hotness. “Nice try, sweetheart. But there’s no way I’d forget you.” His gaze sweeps over me—it’s not in an unappreciative way either.
I poke his hard chest. “Stop leering at me, you pervert. I don’t know what kind of drugs you’ve been snorting, but I assure you, you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Oh shit!” my sister’s voice comes from behind me.
I turn to find Marley doing an about-face, and then she breaks into a little grapevine step as she moves back toward me. Her eyes are wide, mouth contorted into some kind of grimace as she grabs my wrist.
“What the fuck? There are two of you?” hot-crazy guy asks, eyes bouncing between us.
“We gotta go.” Marley latches onto my hand and drags me down the aisle, away from crazy-hot suit.
“Whoa! Wait a damn second!”
Hot suit makes a grab for me, but Marley yanks me out of the way and shoves my shopping cart at him—hard. He’s not quite quick enough to get out of the way, and the corner of the cart slams right into his crotch. He doubles over with a groan and aggressively pushes the cart aside. It ricochets into a display of canned peaches, which spill into the aisle with a deafening crash.
“What the heck, Mar?”
“Come the fuck on!” She sprints down the aisle, dragging me behind her. I’d protest, but I don’t think I have much choice in the matter, considering the death grip she has on my hand, or the fact that she’s assaulted the sexy-crazy suit with my shopping cart.
Marley fast-walks to the exit, glancing over her shoulder. “Act natural.”
“Will you tell me what’s going on? Who is that guy?”
She flips her hair over her shoulder and smiles as we pass the cashiers and the automatic doors open. Marley fast-walks down the sidewalk toward our car. “I may have tapped that guy’s car last Saturday when I was shopping.”
I stop walking, which brings her to a jarring halt. She yanks on my arm. “Seriously, come on. I’ll explain when we’re in the car.”
“Nope. No way. You explain now.”
Her eyes are bouncing all over the place. “It’s not a big deal. I just grazed his bumper.” Marley spin and tries to push me forward from behind. “Now let’s get out of here before he finds us again. We should probably shop somewhere else for a while.”
I stumble forward a step and then spin away from her. “You hit that guy’s car?”
“It was more of a graze. At least I think it was.” She wrings her hands and makes her oh crap face.
Now crazy-hot suit guy seems a lot less crazy and much more justified in his reaction. Except for the cleavage comment. That was still unnecessary. “It sure didn’t seem like nothing with the way he freaked out in there.”
“He’s probably overreacting. Where are your keys?” She’s still wringing her hands.
I pat my hip with the intention of keeping my purse safe and away from my sister. Except all I end up patting is my actual hip. I look down, running my hands over my stomach, searching for the cheap, faux-leather knockoff. “Oh fudge.”
“What?”
“My purse. It’s in the cart. I have to go back and get it.”
Marley grabs the back of my tank. “You can’t! What if he’s still in there?”
“It has my identification in it, Marley. And my bankcards, and my money, and keys to the car and the apartment. I can’t leave it in there!”
Marley flails and paces around in a circle. “What if he’s waiting for us to come back and get it?”
“You can stay here if you want, but I’m going back for it. I’m not leaving my purse behind because you hit some guy’s car in a parking lot. I can’t believe you just drove away!”
“I thought I tapped it, and then I panicked.” Her fingers are at her mouth now. “I didn’t want to drive up our insurance premiums over some guy and his Tesla.”
“You hit a Tesla?” This keeps getting worse.
“Anyone who has the money to buy a Tesla has the money to fix it, right?” Marley says.
“So you drove off! Jeez, Marley. What were you thinking?” I shake my head. I’d like to say I’m surprised by this, but sadly I’m not. Marley doesn’t always use common sense in day-to-day life.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem, I guess.”
I’m about to go back into the store, but stop short at the sight of the suit leaning against the side of my car, one ankle crossed over the other, all calm like. Dangling from a single finger is my knockoff, hot-pink Coach purse. “Forget something?”

Copyright © 2018 by Helena Hunting in I Flipping Love You and reprinted with permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.


Giveaway IFLY.png

ENTER FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A COPY OF I FLIPPING LOVE YOU!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING – A Laura Kaye Review, Excerpt Reveal & Giveaway

Laura Kaye impresses again with her ability to combine romance with awareness and healing. Home from service as a Marine, Noah is a lost man; it isn’t until a family party triggers his wartime memories that the true depth of Noah’s issues begin to show themselves. He’s broken and stuck in a realm of anger and he can’t seem to find light at the end of the tunnel. Mixed with his own turmoil is his developing feelings for his best friend Kristina. He’s never seen her as the woman she is today but the lust and companionship he finds in her rivals anyone else’s attempts to pull him from the muck in his mind.

Kristina can’t stand seeing her best friend torn apart and lost within his own emotions. Navigating the minefield that is Noah Cortez proves a large endeavor when, after years of lust on her end, Noah caves and deals her a searing kiss. As she begins to accept her own feelings towards Noah, Kristina has to help him realize the risks he takes in not seeking help with his PTSD and anger.

I loved Kaye’s ability to articulate Noah’s pain in such great detail. This is a man who whole struggling with the pain of a physical injury is also fighting an emotional battle inside. And that battle isn’t just the anger he feels and coming home without his team, it shows his struggle as a man as well. The dichotomy of his physical recovery with the Warrior Fight Club and his emotional redemption with art therapy perfectly showcases all the different avenues that our armed forces can seek help. Always one to push important initiatives alongside a sexy and heartfelt romance, I can’t wait for more of Laura Kate’s Warrior Fight Club and all the issue they’ll overcome!


From New York Times bestselling author Laura Kaye, comes the first standalone title in her brand, new Warrior Fight Club series, FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING. Get your copy of FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING, and join the Warrior Fight Club world today!

About FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING (Warrior Fight Club #1, 5/22/18):

Loving her is the biggest fight of his life…

Home from the Marines, Noah Cortez has a secret he doesn’t want his oldest friend, Kristina Moore, to know. It kills him to push her away, especially when he’s noticing just how sexy and confident she’s become in his absence. But, angry and full of fight, he’s not the same man anymore either. Which is why Warrior Fight Club sounds so good.Kristina loves teaching, but she wants more out of life. She wants Noah—the boy she’s crushed on and waited for. Except Noah is all man now—in ways both oh so good and troubling, too. Still, she wants who he’s become—every war-hardened inch. And when they finally stop fighting their attraction, it’s everything Kristina never dared hope for.But Noah is secretly spiraling, and when he lashes out, it threatens what he and Kristina have found. The brotherhood of the fight club helps him confront his demons, but only Noah can convince the woman he loves that he’s finally ready to fight for everything.

ORDER on Amazon | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Add to your Goodreads

“The always amazing Kaye is kicking off a terrific new contemporary romance series that centers around a wounded warrior’s fight club. Kaye does a beautiful job exploring the fallout from war and PTSD as various characters struggle to cope in their own ways. The love story between Noah Cortez and his childhood friend Kristina Moore is both compelling and touching, for the obstacles in their way loom large. A truly memorable read!” ~ RT Book Reviews

Excerpt FFE.png

“All done,” Noah said. He gently applied tape to hold the bandage in place, but with the way the back of her hand was swelling, there wasn’t any safe place to press. Sonofabitch. He couldn’t believe this had happened to her. And on his watch.

“You’re taking really good care of me, Noah. Thank you,” Kristina said with a small smile.

“I will always take care of you,” he bit out. And then he realized what he said, and just how vehemently he’d said it. And damn if it hadn’t sounded a whole lot more than friendly. He chanced a glance at Kristina, and it was clear that she’d registered something in his tone, too. He threw away the trash and sat against the edge of the desk. “Why don’t you sit with the ice for a few minutes?”

She rose and stood right in front of him, her pretty eyes even with his given how he was leaning. “I don’t need to sit,” she said in a low voice, her gaze boring into his.
Well, I need you to sit. So sit.”

Her eyebrow went up. Just the one.

Under other circumstances it might’ve made him laugh. Could she ever just fucking listen to him? But he was wound so tight over witnessing her getting hurt, over the idea that it could’ve been so much worse, over seeing her spilled blood, that it was all he could do not to redecorate Mr. Johnson’s office along the lines of his shower wall. He was nearly vibrating with pent-up frustration.

And now Kristina was boxing him in, observing him too closely, not giving him an out.
“Here’s the part where I’m gonna say ‘thank you,’ and you’re going to say ‘you’re welcome.’ Ready? Thank you for protecting me and taking care of me, Noah.” Her expression was expectant, and not a little amused.

Something about her playfulness wound him a notch tighter. Because he wasn’t playing. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her full pink lips, and desire sucker-punched him so hard he nearly gasped. “Does your mouth hurt?” he rasped.
“Why would my—”

Noah was on her in a flash. Hand cupping the side of her face, arm hauling her tight up against him, mouth claiming hers on a deep, needful, soul-healing kiss. Kristina’s muscles braced in surprise, but then she melted against him, going soft and pliant against all his hardness. And he was hard. So hard, so on edge, so in need of release, that he could’ve spun her around, lifted her onto the desk, and buried himself deep right here and right now.

He needed to be more gentle with her, but the need roaring through him wouldn’t allow him to slow down or back off. And her eager responsiveness didn’t help, either.

Her good hand fisted in his hair, her mouth sucked maddeningly at his tongue, and her body writhed against his erection. And goddamn the noises she was making, because the desperate moans and little mewls of need were hot as fuck, every one stroking his cock and making him harder.

Instinct told Noah that Kristina wouldn’t hinder him playing out his little fantasy on the desk.

Except she was hurt. And they were in a fucking sub shop. Annnd, he couldn’t forget about what was behind door number three—they were supposed to be Just. Friends.
Shit,” he rasped. “I did it again.”

She grasped at his face. “Yes, thank you for that, too. Keep doing it.” Kristina went in for another kiss. This time, her tongue penetrated him, like she wanted to fight him for control. And hell if that didn’t set off all kinds of heat inside him.

He flipped them around and pinned her to the desk, nearly leaning her backwards over it. The position brought his hard-on flush with that sweet, hot spot between her legs. She cried out and tried to grind against him, but his weight and her skirt kept her pinned tight.

Hurt. Sub shop. Friends.
Shit, wait.” He stepped back, putting space between them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the strength to resist a third time. Especially when she stared at him with such abject fucking need, her cheeks flush with desire, her hair mussed from his hands, her luscious breasts heaving under that clingy V-neck top. “You’re hurt.”

“And?” Kristina asked.

Noah glared. “Kristina, I’m kinda on the edge here, if you can’t tell.”

She slipped up onto the desk and spread her legs, just the little bit the skirt allowed.


Giveaway FFE.png

a Rafflecopter giveaway for the chance to win $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Card for 3 Winners


And don’t miss the second standalone romance in the Warrior Fight Club series coming August 7, 2018, FIGHTING FOR WHAT’S HIS

PRE-ORDER on Amazon | Amazon Paperback | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Add to your Goodreads

“Nobody’s tortured alphas destroy me quite so utterly as Laura Kaye’s. Her heroes face heart-wrenching struggles. They have flaws. Kaye presents all of it with unflinching honesty, and I love them—and her!—all the more for it!” ~ USA Today Bestselling Author Samanthe Beck


Now that’s how you start a series! Kaye is at her absolute best, and Fighting For Everything is the perfect combination of steamy romance and the struggle of our wounded warriors.” ~ Scarlett Cole, author of the Love Over Duty Series


About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty books in contemporary and erotic romance and romantic suspense, including the Blasphemy, Hard Ink, and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. Laura also writes historical fiction as the NYT bestselling author, Laura Kamoie. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp

Copy provided

FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING – A Laura Kaye New Release Excerpt Reveal & Giveaway

From New York Times bestselling author Laura Kaye, comes the first standalone title in her brand, new Warrior Fight Club series, FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING. Get your copy of FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING, and join the Warrior Fight Club world today!

About FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING (Warrior Fight Club #1, 5/22/18):

Loving her is the biggest fight of his life…

Home from the Marines, Noah Cortez has a secret he doesn’t want his oldest friend, Kristina Moore, to know. It kills him to push her away, especially when he’s noticing just how sexy and confident she’s become in his absence. But, angry and full of fight, he’s not the same man anymore either. Which is why Warrior Fight Club sounds so good.Kristina loves teaching, but she wants more out of life. She wants Noah—the boy she’s crushed on and waited for. Except Noah is all man now—in ways both oh so good and troubling, too. Still, she wants who he’s become—every war-hardened inch. And when they finally stop fighting their attraction, it’s everything Kristina never dared hope for.But Noah is secretly spiraling, and when he lashes out, it threatens what he and Kristina have found. The brotherhood of the fight club helps him confront his demons, but only Noah can convince the woman he loves that he’s finally ready to fight for everything.

ORDER on Amazon | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Add to your Goodreads

“The always amazing Kaye is kicking off a terrific new contemporary romance series that centers around a wounded warrior’s fight club. Kaye does a beautiful job exploring the fallout from war and PTSD as various characters struggle to cope in their own ways. The love story between Noah Cortez and his childhood friend Kristina Moore is both compelling and touching, for the obstacles in their way loom large. A truly memorable read!” ~ RT Book Reviews

Excerpt FFE.png

“Noah, are you down here?” Kristina called from the top of the basement steps.

Despite the lack of response, she continued down and crossed the room to the mostly closed door in the back corner–Noah’s bedroom since he’d returned just before last Christmas. God, Kristina had thought she’d received the best Christmas present ever–Noah, home from Iraq, safe and sound.

Well, mostly sound, anyway. An IED blast had taken the hearing and most of his vision on his left side, and he’d struggled with bad migraines and equilibrium problems when he’d first returned. But he was home and he was alive, and having him back again had made it feel like she could finally breathe after years of knowing he was in danger every second of every day.

She knocked softly. “Hey Noah, it’s me.”

All she heard was a long exhale of breath, but it was enough.

Why hadn’t he answered her? Her stomach clenched as she pushed open the door far enough to see Noah standing in the dark doorway to his bathroom, his back against the door jamb, his arms crossed, and his head hanging on his big shoulders.

She didn’t need to ask if he was okay, because he was radiating not okay loud and clear. Kristina walked right up to him. “What’s going on?” she asked. Dim light from the rec room filtered over him, allowing her to just make out the tight clench of his square jaw, the narrowed cast of his dark brown eyes, the harsh set of his beautiful mouth.

Wait. What? Where had that little observation come from?

Noah shook his head, forcing Kristina to drop the ridiculous line of thought.

She stepped closer so that she could look more directly into his eyes. “Come on, Noah. It’s me.” She ached for him to open up, but what she noticed even more was the low buzz rushing through her body. From how close she stood to all his taut hardness. It wasn’t like she was just noticing that Noah was hot, like, dayum hot, but nearly five years in the Marines had matured him and built hard muscle that hadn’t been there before. And clearly her body was just noticing, probably because they hadn’t had the chance to spend much time together since he’d gotten back.

“Kristina,” he said, his voice so low it was nearly a whisper, or a plea. He leaned his forehead against hers. It was such a sweet, needful gesture that Kristina’s chest seized.

“First, I’m hugging you. Then we’re talking, buddy,” she said, wrapping her arms around his big shoulders and planting her cheek against his chest. The embrace wasn’t unusual-they’d always been affectionate with each other. She’d lay against him while they watched a movie or he’d sling an arm over her shoulders while they were out together. When things were bad with her dad, he’d hold her when she finally gave into her grief about it and cried. That’s how they’d always been.

He embraced her right back and leaned his face against her hair.

After a long moment, Kristina pulled away–

Noah wouldn’t let her go. His grip on her tightened, and he held her fast against him. Was he breathing faster? Was he trembling?

Against her belly, he hardened.

Kristina’s breath caught in her throat. Noah was aroused…by her? Or just, like, in her general vicinity? Or…? She swallowed hard as her thoughts flew.

As they stood there, suspended in the dark, stolen moment, the air around them flashed hot and closed in, narrowing the world to all the places their bodies touched. His erection grew, pressing against her with more insistence. Heat bloomed over her skin everywhere and she held herself perfectly still. Because this was different. This was not friendly. This was more.

A strange tension wrapped around them, and it scared and attracted Kristina in equal measure. She shuddered out a breath as her body came to life against his. Her breathing quickened, her nipples peaked, her core clenched.

Noah made a noise in the back of his throat like a moan, and his arms tightened around her, pulling their bodies totally flush.

Kristina’s breath caught at the hard press of his body and at the shocking arousal it unleashed in her.

This is Noah. This is Noah. This is Noah.

But it didn’t seem to matter to her body. The soft cotton of her dress became heavy and irritating against her skin, and all she wanted was for it to be off. So he could be all over her. This sudden, intoxicating need was brand new to her-in general and certainly with Noah. She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never felt with another man the kind of desire rocketing through her just then. And all they’d done was touch.

Why was this happening?

Her hips shifted without her meaning to do it, and it made her belly grind against all that hardness.

Noah hissed in her ear. His fingertips dug into her back…and then wandered, one hand pressing low against her hip, one skimming up her neck into her hair. Holding her tight. Bringing her closer.

She was half sure she was imagining that they were locked inside this raging bubble of attraction, except that his heart thundered beneath where her head rested, his breathing had gone rough, and his skin felt every bit as feverish as hers.

She had to stop this…whatever this was.

Tilting her head back, the words were on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes locked with his, and even in the dimness she could see that they were blazing hot and almost predatory in their directness. It stole her capacity to speak, because she was unequivocally sure he’d never looked at her like that. Need roared off of him and through her, making her heart beat like a bass drum.

Kristina swallowed hard. What would she do if he kissed her? One kissing experiment aside, she’d never had to ask that in regard to him. Another question followed close behind: what would she do if he didn’t.


Giveaway FFE.png

a Rafflecopter giveaway for the chance to win $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift Card for 3 Winners

 


And don’t miss the second standalone romance in the Warrior Fight Club series coming August 7, 2018, FIGHTING FOR WHAT’S HIS

PRE-ORDER on Amazon | Amazon Paperback | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Add to your Goodreads

“Nobody’s tortured alphas destroy me quite so utterly as Laura Kaye’s. Her heroes face heart-wrenching struggles. They have flaws. Kaye presents all of it with unflinching honesty, and I love them—and her!—all the more for it!” ~ USA Today Bestselling Author Samanthe Beck


Now that’s how you start a series! Kaye is at her absolute best, and Fighting For Everything is the perfect combination of steamy romance and the struggle of our wounded warriors.” ~ Scarlett Cole, author of the Love Over Duty Series


About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty books in contemporary and erotic romance and romantic suspense, including the Blasphemy, Hard Ink, and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. Laura also writes historical fiction as the NYT bestselling author, Laura Kamoie. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter SignUp