Spotlight & Excerpt: When Stars Collide by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

WHEN STARS COLLIDE
Series: Chicago Stars #9
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Release Date: June 29, 2021

Olivia Shore, international opera superstar, is a driven diva with a passion for perfection, a craving for justice, too many secrets—and a monumental grudge against the egotistical, lowbrow jock she’s been stuck with.

It’s Mozart meets Monday Night Football as the temperamental soprano and stubborn jock embark on a nationwide tour promoting a luxury watch brand. Along the way, the combatants will engage in soul-searching and trash talk, backstage drama and, for sure, a quarterback pass. But they’ll also face trouble as threatening letters, haunting photographs, and a series of dangerous encounters complicate their lives. Is it the work of an overzealous fan or something more sinister?

This is the emotional journey of a brilliant woman whose career is everything and a talented man who’ll never be happy with second place.

Tender and funny, passionate and insightful, this irresistible romantic adventure proves that anything can happen…when two superstars collide.

AMAZON

The Diva sat in the opposite corner of the limo, sunglasses still on, cheek resting against the window. So far, the only communication she’d shared with Thad was a look of active hostility when they’d gotten off the plane. Paisley’s thumbs raced over her phone, more

likely texting a friend than doing any work. Henri was also on his cell, engaged in an energetic conversation. Since Thad only spoke some menu French, he couldn’t decipher the topic. The Diva, however, understood. She opened her eyes and waved a hand.

“C’est impossible, Henri.”

The way she said Marchand’s name . . . pushing the Aw-ree from the back of her throat. When Thad said the name, it took all his energy just to drop the h and the n. Forget all that back-of-the throat stuff.

Their subsequent exchange didn’t enlighten Thad about exactly what was so uh-poss-eeee-bluh, but as they pulled up to the hotel, Aw-ree enlightened him. “We’ve had a slight change of schedule. We need to move up today’s interviews immediately after we check in. An inconvenience, but these things do happen, as I’m sure you understand.”

Not even ten minutes later, he and The Diva were being ushered into the hotel’s presidential suite, with Henri and Paisley following. In addition to a luxurious living area, the suite had a dining room, kitchen, grand piano, and big French doors that opened onto a sweeping terrace. A large coffee table in the center of the living room held platters of pastries and assorted bottles of wine and mineral water.

“You have a few minutes to freshen up before the reporters arrive,” Henri said. “Paisley will bring them in.” 

Paisley looked petulant, as if escorting reporters wasn’t part of her job description. Henri didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did and was pretending not to.

The Diva disappeared into the bathroom. As Henri double-checked the refreshments that had been laid out for the reporters, Thad wandered onto the tiled terrace to take in the view of Camelback Mountain. If only he were doing this promotion with a female rock star instead of a stuck-up opera singer. The next four weeks stretched in front of him like an endless road headed exactly nowhere.

**

Paisley ushered in two of the newspaper reporters and disappeared into the corner with her phone. Ironically, the music critic was big and beefy; the sports reporter small and wiry. The editor of the lifestyle section arrived soon after, a middle-aged woman with

short hair slicked to her skull and multiple ear piercings.

Thad had yet to meet a member of the press who didn’t appreciate free food. Each of the men polished off a couple of cannoli along with a half dozen lemon cookies while the lifestyle editor sipped a glass of chardonnay and nibbled a few almonds. Thad exchanged small talk with all of them, hiding his irritation that The Diva was still sealed up in the bathroom. Just as he got ready to pound on the door and ask her if she’d fallen in, she deigned to join them.

She’d set aside her trench coat, along with the scarf and sunglasses, and she advanced toward the reporters, stilettos clicking, studiously ignoring him. Her sweep of dark hair coiled in one of those loose bun things, which—along with her royal-blue stilettos—brought her height to someplace in the vicinity of six feet. Her figure was formidable: broad shoulders, long neck, straight spine, and trim waist, all of it accompanied by skyscraper legs. She was neither skinny nor plump. More . . . He searched for the right word, but all he could come up with was “daunting.”

Along with her stilettos and black slacks, the open throat of her white blouse showed off a gold rope necklace with a pigeon egg–sized stone that appeared to be a giant ruby. She wore multiple rings, a couple of bracelets, and the Cavatina3. He liked his women small and cuddly. This one looked like a tigress who’d raided an Hermès store.

The men rose as she approached. Henri performed the introductions. She extended her hand and gazed down her long nose at them, her lips curved in a regal smile. “Gentlemen.” She acknowledged the lifestyle editor with a handshake and gracious smile before she folded herself into the chair across from Thad, ankles crossed off to the side, broomstick up her ass.

He deliberately slouched into his chair and stretched out his own legs, making himself comfortable. The classical music critic led off, but instead of addressing The Diva, he turned to Thad.

“Are you an opera fan?”

“Haven’t had much exposure,” he said.

The sports writer picked up on that. “What about you, Ms. Shore? Do you ever go to football games?”

“Last year I saw New Madrid play Manchester United.”

Thad could barely disguise a snort.

The sports writer exchanged an amused look with him before turning back to her. “Those are European soccer teams, Ms. Shore, not American football.”

She adopted a girls will be girls look that Thad didn’t buy for a second. “Of course. How silly of me.”

There wasn’t anything silly about this woman, from the throaty resonance of her voice to her figure, and something told him she knew damn well they were soccer teams. Or maybe not. For the first time, she’d spiked his curiosity.

“So you’ve never seen Thad Owens play?”

“No.” She gazed directly at Thad for the first time, eyes as cold as a January night. “Have you ever heard me sing?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said with his best drawl. “But my thirty-seventh is coming up, and I’d sure welcome a round of ‘Happy Birthday’ to mark the occasion.”

The lifestyle editor laughed, but The Diva didn’t crack a smile.

“Duly noted.”

The classical music critic launched into some questions about a concert The Diva had given  about European opera houses. The sports writer asked Thad about his fitness regimen and his thoughts on the Cardinals’ prospects for next season.

Paisley had returned to her cell phone coma. Marchand offered more wine. “We’re honored to have two people as accomplished as Madame Shore and Mr. Owens as our new Marchand ambassadors. Both of them are style setters.”

The lifestyle editor took in Thad’s gray slacks and quarter-zip raspberry cashmere sweater. “What’s your fashion philosophy, Mr. Owens?”

“Quality and comfort,” he said.

“A lot of men wouldn’t be brave enough to wear that color.”

“I like color,” he said, “but I’m not into trends, and the only jewelry I wear is a great watch.”

She cocked her head. “Maybe a wedding ring someday?”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t wish me on anybody. I’m too unreliable. Now when it comes to reliability”—he extended his wrist, earning his paycheck—“this is what I count on. I’ve worn Marchand watches for years. That’s why I was attracted to their invitation.

They’ve outdone themselves with the Victory780.”

Henri beamed. The lifestyle editor turned to The Diva. “What about you, Ms. Shore? How would you describe your fashion philosophy?”

“Quality and discomfort.” She surprised him by slipping off her stilettos.

The style editor’s gaze traveled from Thad’s raspberry sweater to The Diva’s black-and-white ensemble. “You seem to prefer neutral colors.”

“I believe in elegance.” She glanced at Thad with open contempt. What the hell was wrong with her? “Bright pink is best kept on the stage,” ’ she said. “I’m only speaking for myself, of

course.”

His sweater wasn’t fucking pink. It was raspberry!

“I’m very selective,” she went on, her attention returned to the lifestyle editor. “That’s why the Cavatina3 is the perfect watch for me.” She took it off and handed it to the reporter to examine more closely. “My schedule is demanding. I need a watch I can rely on, but also one that complements my wardrobe and my lifestyle.”

Commercial over.

Adapted from WHEN STARS COLLIDE by Susan Elizabeth Phillips, published by William Morrow Books. Copyright © 2021 by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Reprinted courtesy of HarperCollinsPublishers.

 

 

Spotlight & Excerpt: Follow Me Darkly by Helen Hardt

FOLLOW ME DARKLY
Series:
Follow Me #1
Genre: Erotic Romance
Author: Helen Hard
Release Date: September 29, 2020

I’ve always been a control freak. But he makes me crave submission…

Working for a hotel heiress and social media influencer may not be my dream job, but at least it allows me time to do what I really love—take photographs. Pretty good for a wholesome farm girl from Kansas trying to make it in Boston. Life may not be easy working for a diva, but at least I know what to expect.

Until blue-collar billionaire Braden Black strides into the office. He’s beyond handsome and sexy, but also domineering with a definite hard edge. I’m not sure why he’s interested in me, but within a few weeks, he’s showing me a world I never knew existed.

He’s opened up a side of me I can only face in the dark, and it’s quickly becoming an obsession. How can I give up something this addictive—even if his secrets could ultimately destroy me?

AMAZON 

“Good evening,” a deep and husky voice says.

The deep and husky voice belongs to Braden Black.

Braden Black is standing in Addison’s office, right in front of me. I gulp, stand, walk out from behind my desk… and unceremoniously drop my purse. Its contents spill over the marble floor.

Kill me now.

Front and center is a condom.

So I’m ready for anything. Good policy, right? Still, my cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. I was just leaving for the day.” I kneel and begin to gather the items. Should I take the condom first? Or would that just draw attention to it?

My humiliation is complete when Braden Black kneels down across from me. “Let me help.”

I meet his searing blue gaze, wishing I were invisible.

“That’s kind of you, but I’ve got it.” I grab the condom along with a tube of lip gloss and shove them back into my purse.

Then I gather the rest and rise.

He’s standing again. He’s nearly a foot taller than I am, with shoulders so broad, I could get lost in them. He seems to darken the room—not in a bad way, though.

I force out a laugh. “That was embarrassing. Would you believe I meant to do that so you’d know I’m not hiding a knife in my purse?”

“Do you really think whether you’re hiding a knife—or anything else dangerous—would be my first thought when looking at you?”

His voice. Shivers crawl up my spine. “What woman doesn’t want to appear a little dangerous?”

“You don’t seem dangerous so much as someone who likes to be in charge.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

His lips quiver. Just a touch, but I notice. How can I not notice every little thing about him? He fills up the room.

“I guess it depends on whether you’re horizontal,” he replies.

Warmth gushes through me. I must be red as a beet. And I thought dropping my purse was embarrassing? I’m hardly the type to be engaging in sexual banter with a billionaire. I’m intrigued, though. More than intrigued. Already my body is responding. To him or to his dark manner? I’m not sure.

I draw in a deep breath and clear my throat. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m Braden Black. I’m here to see Addison.”

“She’s in her office. Did you have an appointment?”

I know very well he doesn’t have an appointment. I keep Addison’s calendar. I have a sneaking suspicion I’m not fooling him by the sly half smile he gives me.

“No. She’s an old friend.”

“Of course. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

“No need.” He cocks his head toward her closed door.

“She in there?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He walks toward Addison’s private office.

“You can’t,” I say.

“Sure I can. Watch me.”

Before he knocks, however, the door opens.

“Skye, can you—” Addison’s lips curve downward into an angry frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come over to tell you if you ever bully my receptionist again, I’ll make sure every one of your followers knows the truth about you.”

“Truth about me? Are you kidding? I’m not the one with something to hide, Braden.”

“You have a lot more to hide than a hatred of coffee,” he says.

“And what about you? You want your business associates to know—”

“Enough!”

Braden Black’s voice booms through the office, making me shiver. I swear the walls vibrate and shrink back against the darkness exuding from him.

I wait for Addison to say more, to mention what he’s hiding. She doesn’t. His command seems to stop her.

Oddly, I understand. I stop what I’m doing as well. Something about the ominous tone in his voice makes me want to obey without question.

Which isn’t like me at all. Finally, Addison says simply, “Stay off my Instagram.”

“I’m not sure you should be telling me what to do,” Braden says, “but I’ll play it your way for now.”

“Good.” Addison stomps back into her office and slams the door.

He stands still for a moment and stares at her closed door, running his fingers through his hair. What is he thinking? I have no idea…until he turns around and meets my gaze.

“She hasn’t changed,” he says.

Am I supposed to respond? “You mean she’s slammed a door in your face before?”

“Many people have.”

I smile. I can’t help it. His tone is so nonchalant. Clearly he doesn’t care who slams a door on him, and I like that. It speaks to me in a way, shows me how I want to be. “I suppose it’s better than someone being nice to your face and then stabbing you in the back.”

“I get my share of that, too,” he says. “And I agree. It’s always better to know where you stand.” He stares at me then. Really stares, as if he’s starving and I’m the special of the day.

I look down at my feet and then catch myself. Yeah, I was a klutz a minute ago, and he saw my condom. So what? It happens. At least that’s what I want to think. I’m actually still kind of mortified, but I look back up and meet his gaze.

“I guess you know where you stand with Addie,” I say. “Pretty much everyone does.”

His lips bend ever so slightly upward. I suppress a shiver. The subtle smile is a flash of light in his ominous demeanor. It’s suddenly chilly in the heated room.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he says. “She hates coffee.”

I smile, forgetting for a second that this man just saw me pick up a condom. “I know. She threw out the latte after the shoot. Perfectly good and hot. I’d have happily drunk it.”

“You’re a coffee drinker, then?”

I nod. “Absolutely.”

“Me too.” He stares at me again, seeming to zero in on my mouth. “Care to go for a cup…”

This time I can’t stop my eyes. They widen. Is Braden Black asking me out?

He looks toward my desk where my nameplate sits.

“…Skye?”

Say something, Skye. For God’s sake!

“It’s almost six.”

“Dinner, then?”

Every nerve in my body jumps. I mean really jumps.

Braden Black, the most eligible bachelor in Boston—hell, in the country—just asked me to dinner.

#1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author Helen Hardt’s passion for the written word began with the books her mother read to her at bedtime. She wrote her first story at age six and hasn’t stopped since. In addition to being an award-winning author of romantic fiction, she’s a mother, an attorney, a black belt in Taekwondo, a grammar geek, an appreciator of fine red wine, and a lover of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. She writes from her home in Colorado, where she lives with her family. Helen loves to hear from readers.

CONNECT WITH HELEN
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Spotlight, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway: Hard Chrome by @byVanessaNorth

HARD CHROME
Series: American Heavy Metal #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Vanessa North
Release Date: October 21, 2019

Warnings:

Hard Chrome deals with subjects some readers may find difficult, including domestic violence, animal cruelty, drug use, and teen pregnancy.

He’s tough. But she’s tougher.

Tanner Ellis left American Heavy Metal in her rearview mirror. She didn’t see the beauty behind the grease stains and the polished chrome until it was too late. Now she’s back, determined to save her father’s legacy—and bring the South’s premier classic-car shop into the new century. Nothing is going to stop her—especially not the sexy tech who refuses to follow her lead.

American Heavy Metal is the only home Duke Wilson’s ever known, and no high-heeled, sharp-tongued princess is going to take it away. He tolerates Tanner’s advice, and it’s fun to push her buttons, but she doesn’t belong in the shop—never has, never will. The sooner she realizes that, the sooner he can find his new normal.

When Tanner falters, revealing the pain beneath her bravado, Duke comforts her the only way he knows how. And when violence from his past threatens their future, she’ll be there for him, offering him the one thing he’s always wanted—a shot at a real family. He just has to convince himself to take it.

This book is approximately 49,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

 

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EXLUSIVE EXCERPT

“Take this off?” I pull at his shirt, and he obliges, baring all that warm skin and muscle. I take a shuddering breath, free to look at last. I run my hands over his hard chest, fingertips tangling in the hair, and it sends a fresh wave of want through me.

“Tan…” He groans. “You feel so good. Do I get to see you too?”

I nod and yank my sweater up over my head. Before I can even throw it over my shoulder, his huge hands are on me, stroking my waist and teasing upward.

“You’re so beautiful, princess.” He smiles up at me, his face all soft and full of wonder. “I want to make you feel as good as you look.”

And with that, he rolls us over, driving his pelvis into mine and kissing me breathless. He breaks away to cup one breast in his hand, holding me like a prized piece of art. I squirm under his gaze, raw and needy.

His lips close over the nipple, oh so slowly, and my breath catches as he draws on it, sending heat flooding my groin. Unable to keep still, I twist under him, tears spilling out of the corners of my eyes already. “Duke, please.”

He rises over me, smiling. “Let’s get naked.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I reach for his zipper, and he lets me open it up and pull out his cock. Our earlier encounter had been too wild, and too drenched in conflict and shame for me to appreciate his beauty. He’s large, thick and ruddy, and my mouth waters with the desire to taste his hardness, to tease him and drive him crazy. I sit up and slip out of my own slacks and panties then tug him to the edge of the bed and pull off his jeans, then his briefs.

“You’re gorgeous,” I say, my voice catching on the praise. And then I take him in my mouth, tasting the salt of skin and the sweet of precome. He groans and buries a hand in my hair, not pushing, but caressing. His hips pulse up into my mouth, nearly gagging me, and I shove down farther, taking him deeper, wanting to feel him come unglued.

“Oh,” he gasps, and I double my efforts until he pulls me off him, his callused hands rough on my arms. “You’re way too good at that, princess. But it’s your turn.”

I laugh—are we keeping count? If so, it’s way his turn—and let him push me back down on the bed. His lips find my breasts again, trailing from one to the other, stubble scratching, one big hand pressing against the wetness between my legs, a finger sliding unerringly through my heat to rub my clit. The first time we did this, it had been an act of fighting and desperation, trying to forget the world around us. This time, I relax into his touch, trusting him to take us wherever we need to go, letting him make me feel good.

And oh, oh, oh. His strong, capable hands, hands built and trained to fix things, they set themselves to the work of taking me apart until I finally gasp out a single word.

Please.

He looks up at my face, his eyes warm with lust and something more. “Please what?”

“Make me come,” I demand, and his grin turns feral.

Vanessa North is a romance novelist, a short fiction geek, and a knitter of strange and wonderful things. Her works have been shortlisted for both the Lambda Literary Award and the RITA© Award, and have garnered praise from The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Publisher’s Weekly. She lives in Northwest Georgia with her family: a Viking, twin boy-children, and two large dogs.

 

Connect with Vanessa:

Website | Newsletter Signup | BookBub | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

https://books2read.com/ap/RJkD5n/Vanessa-North

Giveaway: Vanessa North is celebrating the release of HARD CHROME with a big giveaway! Three prizes are up for grabs: (2) $10 Amazon Gift Cards and (1) Signed Paperback of Hard Chrome + some serious auto-shop inspired swag!

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Review, Excerpt & Giveaway: The Rebel Queen by Jeana E. Mann

THE REBEL QUEEN
Series: The Rebel Queen Duet #2
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic Romance
Author: Jeana E. Mann
Release Date: October 15, 2019

“Shall we begin?” When spoken by my new husband, these three little words fill me with terror and anticipation.

In private, King Henry rules my body like he rules his country—with unrelenting control and passion. I crave his orders, his punishment, his commands. Outside the bedroom, we’re strangers caught in a web of lies and decadence.

Our marriage is a sham, a business arrangement devised to save my life and secure his crown. He doesn’t love me. He loves my body, controlling it, shaming it, worshipping it. To survive the dangers at court, I need to be smart, but it’s hard to think straight with a man like Henry between my legs.

Each night, he locks the bedroom door, determined to teach me a new lesson. Obedience, patience, trust. I lie awake in bed waiting for the sound of his footsteps and the latest installment in pleasure and pain. My heart pounds when the hinges creak and his broad shoulders block the door. I’m not ready, but I can’t wait to feel his hands on me. He shoves his bowtie in my mouth, binds my hands to the headboard, and whispers in my ear…

“Shall we begin?”

From USA Today bestselling author Jeana E. Mann comes this dark, contemporary romance filled with twists, turns, and unprecedented heat.

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START WHERE IT ALL BEGAN IN THE ROYAL ARRANGEMENT, BOOK 1 in the series:

The Royal Arrangement

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When his key clicks in the lock of the apartment door, my heart almost leaps out of my chest. I slip my hands into the fur-lined restraints. Anticipation heightens my awareness. The silk sheets are soft against my skin. They smell of his cologne and shower gel. I draw in his scent and try not to squirm. With each passing second, my mouth grows drier and the ache between my legs intensifies. I can hardly wait to see what he has in store for me tonight.

His light footsteps approach, sending my pulse rate higher. He doesn’t speak. He shrugs out of his jacket, loosens his tie, and sits in the elegant chair at the end of the bed. My skin prickles under the weight of his scrutiny. I’ve never been self-conscious about my body, but insecurity races through me. He’s the king. How many women has he had in his bed? If they’re anything like Lady Clayton, they’ve been the most beautiful women in the world. I tug on the restraints, wishing I could crawl beneath the sheets.

He drags a finger over his upper lip. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“What?” Mortification sends heat rushing into my face. Changed his mind? About me? About us? A knot clenches in my belly.

“I’ve always taken the lead in our lessons, but tonight, I’m giving you control.”

I slide my hands out of the restraints and sit up, clutching a pillow to cover my nudity, feeling vulnerable. “I don’t understand.”

“Take the reins, Everly.” He enunciates each word in his haughty British accent. “Show me how persuasive you can be. Make me want you.”

What I want is much more precious and infinitely more difficult to acquire. I want to own you. Inside and out.”


Well butter my biscuit, this was a sexy little page turner. If you’re looking for a guilty pleasure read that brings an intense thrill and a whole lot of deliciousness, look no further. I was immediately hooked on the connection between King Henry and Everly in The Royal Arrangement, and this brought the sinful conclusion.

The relationship between Everly and Henry is anything but ordinary. He’s a man that demands utmost control, and she’s a woman that’s fighting her every urge to give into his demands. Even though she’s almost a kept woman locked away in his tower in this book, she doesn’t take it lying down. Her spark and fire burns hot and I really appreciated that. Henry is as intense as ever, and I wouldn’t have him any other way.

I would have loved for the suspense element in this story to be better fleshed out. As it was, it felt a bit glossed over and overshadowed by the relationship dynamic. Granted, I didn’t mind that too much since I really loved the relationship dynamic, but I still couldn’t help but want a little more from the ending.

All in all, this was an addicting and sizzling read that I read in one sitting and I’m definitely a new fan of this author and will eagerly jump on all her future releases.

 

Jeana is a USA Today and Publishers Weekly Bestselling Author from Indiana. She gave up a career in the corporate world to write about sexy billionaires and alpha bad boys. With over twenty books and several awards beneath her belt, she’s never regretted her choice to live out her dream. She’s a free spirit, a wanderer at heart, and loves animals with a passion. When she’s not tripping over random objects, you’ll find her walking in the sunshine with her rambunctious dogs and dreaming about true love.

 

You can follow Jeana here:

Website:http://jeanaemann.net

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/JeanaEMann

Twitter:https://www.twitter.com/JeanaEMann

Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/JeanaEMann

Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/Jeana-E.-Mann/e/B00HI4KQB4/ref

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jeana-e-mann

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Text Alerts: Text the word “Jeana” without quotations to 21000

 

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: Butterfly In Frost by Sylvia Day

BUTTERFLY IN FROST
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Sylvia Day
Release Date: August 27, 2019
Publisher: Montlake Romance

Once, I would never have imagined myself here. But I’m settled now. In a place I love, in a home I renovated, spending time with new friends I adore, and working a job that fulfills me. I am reconciling the past and laying the groundwork for the future.

Then Garrett Frost moves in next door.

He’s obstinate and too bold, a raging force of nature that disrupts the careful order of my life. I recognize the ghosts that haunt him, the torment driving him. Garrett would be risky in any form, but wounded, he’s far more dangerous. I fear I’m too fragile for the storm raging inside him, too delicate to withstand the pain that buffets him. But he’s too determined…and too tempting.

And sometimes hope soars above even the iciest desolation.

 

Roxy bounces on her feet with excitement. “Les and Marge sold their house.”I blink. “I didn’t know they were selling.”

She laughs and heads toward the front door. “That’s the thing. They weren’t.”

“Wait, what?” I hurry after her as she steps outside.

I look to the right at my home, a lovingly restored butterfly-roofed midcentury, then on to the traditional house just beyond it that belongs—belonged—to Les and Marge. Including Roxy’s, all three of our homes have unique lots set between the homes that line the street and the Sound, affording us unhindered views of the water as well as exceptional privacy—all within a twenty-minute drive of the airport.

Roxy shortens the length of her stride to allow me to catch up, then glances over at me. “The day after you flew to New York, a Range Rover pulled into their driveway, and the guy inside offered them cash to close—and move out—in fourteen days.”

My step falters, and Minnie gets momentarily tangled in her leash. The dog shoots me what I would describe as an irritated look, then keeps trotting forward. “That’s crazy.”

“Isn’t it? Les wouldn’t say how much the offer was, but I’m thinking it was huge.”

We march up the inclined driveway, my head tilted back to take in the houses scaling the hillside. Designed with big windows to maximize the view, the homes have a look of wide-eyed wonder. Our little stretch of the Sound used to be a secret, but with the housing boom taking over Seattle and Tacoma, we’ve been discovered. Many residences are undergoing major renovation to suit the tastes of new owners.

Reaching the road, we turn left. To the right is a dead end.

“Well, if they’re happy,” I say, “I’m happy for them.”

“They’re overwhelmed. It was a lot to happen all at once, but I think they’re happy with their decision.” Roxanne stops when Bella does, and we wait as the two dogs mark one of their usual spots on the gravel edging the asphalt. There are no curbs on the streets in our neighborhood and no sidewalks. Just beautiful lawns and a profusion of flowering shrubs.

“We all tried prying information out of them,” she goes on, “but they weren’t sharing anything about the sale.” She gives me a sidelong glance. “But they did share a bit about the buyer.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because Mike and I both think the buyer is someone famous. A film director maybe. Or an artist. Can you imagine? First Emily, a bestselling author. Then you, a reality-TV surgeon. Now this guy! Maybe we’re sitting on the new Malibu—beachside living without wildfires or state income tax!”

The mention of Roxy’s husband, Mike, coaxes an inner smile. A New York transplant like me, he adds a welcome touch of the life I left behind to the reality I’ve since created for myself—a reality that’s just been rocked by the loss of neighbors I like.

“What are the clues you’re working with?” I ask, deciding to play along. If I’ve learned anything the past year, it’s to accept the things I cannot change. A tough task for a control freak like me.

“Les pointed out to this guy that he hadn’t even seen the inside of the house. The guy said he didn’t need to. He knew already that ‘the light is perfect.’ I mean, who would say that? Gotta be someone who’s in visual arts, right?”

“Maybe,” I agree tentatively, disquieted by the unexpected conversation. The road rises sharply before us, the incline steep enough to put a little burn in my thighs. “Doesn’t mean he’s famous, though.”

“That’s the thing.” Her words carry a note of breathlessness. “Les wouldn’t give numbers, but he did say it was crazy the guy didn’t just buy that huge compound at the end of the street. That house is listed for three and a half million!”

My mind staggers at the thought. Les and Marge have—had—a beautiful home, but it’s not worth anywhere near that much.

“I think I saw the buyer once through that big arched window in the living room,” Roxy goes on. “The blonde with him was a looker. Supermodel skinny with legs for days.”

I’m panting when we reach the top; Roxy, who hits a gym most days of the week, is not.

A quarter mile farther, there’s a street to the right leading to Dash Point. Beyond that and straight ahead, the road slopes back down and around until it’s at water level. Redondo Beach is there, as is Salty’s, a restaurant on stilts in the water with expansive views of Poverty Bay and beyond. I’m about to wax poetic about Salty’s seafood chowder when a runner dashes around the corner at a full sprint. His sudden appearance rattles me. A closer look makes me freeze midstride. My breath locks in my lungs.

There are too many things to register at once, so my mind attempts to absorb the whole man. Dressed only in black shorts and shoes, he is a visual feast of deeply tanned skin, intricate sleeves of tattooed art, and sweat-slicked, flexing musculature.

And his face. Sculpted. Square-jawed. Brutally, breathlessly handsome.

Roxy, now a few feet in front of me, gives a low whistle. “Hot damn.”

Sylvia Day is the #1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, #1 Sunday Times, #1 Der Spiegel, and #1 international bestselling author of over twenty award-winning novels sold in more than forty countries. She is a #1 bestselling author in twenty-eight countries, with tens of millions of copies of her books in print. Visit the author at www.sylviaday.com.

 

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Excerpt: Eighty-One Nights by Georgia Cates

EIGHTY-ONE NIGHTS
Series:
 Beautiful Illusions Duet #1
Genre: 
Contemporary Romance
Author:
Georgia Cates
Release Date: April 9, 2019

Beautiful, penniless American girl meets handsome, wealthy Scotsman.

Sounds like the beginning of a fairy-tale romance?

It’s not.

This story begins with a contract.

And an exchange of money.

A lot of money.

An angel perches nervously on one shoulder.

A devil lounges smugly on my other.

And even that dark little bastard is leery of what I’m doing.

Maxwell Hutcheson wants the girlfriend experience.

All of it.

And I’m going to give it to him.

I’m not supposed to enjoy being his whore.

I’m also not supposed to fall in love with him.

But I do. Both.

When our contract expires, I will walk away.

Because I have to.

But he’ll always have a piece of me.

I’ll mask my sorrow with a smile.

I’ll hide my love with indifference

… all while it’s killing me softly.

A fairy-tale romance.

It isn’t mine to have.

And this man I’ve come to love so dearly isn’t my happily ever after.

About Eighty-One Nights:

While the characters from Eighty-One Nights are entirely new, their storyline is a combination of fresh material and carefully selected themes, scenes, and settings from The Beauty Series, The Sin Trilogy, Dear Agony, and Indulge. This is intentional. I chose some of my favorite elements from previous releases and interjected them into Hutch and Lou’s story. Let’s call it a “story fusion” between our old favorites and new material. This work was briefly released under a pen name and was titled The Girlfriend Experience.

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“No one gets to call you a whore.”

“You can.”

He stops eating and looks at me. “I’d never degrade you by calling you a whore.”

“Not a whore. Your whore. There’s a difference.”

I can almost see the wheels turning in Hutch’s head. “You’re my whore?”

“Yes. Only yours.”

“My whore.” He grins. “I don’t think that I’m supposed to like that, but I do.”

“And I don’t think I’m supposed to like being your whore, but I do. Very much.”

He reaches out for my hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing it. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Dirty talk. Never underestimate the power of it.”


Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.

When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her music and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.

Connect w/Georgia:
Website: http://www.georgiacates.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/georgia.cates.9
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GeorgiaCates
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorgeorgiacates/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/georgiacates1/
Bookbub:https://www.bookbub.com/authors/georgia-cates

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Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway: Not Dead Yet by Jenn Burke

NOT DEAD YET
Series: Not Dead Yet #1
Genre: Paranormal Mystery Romance, MM Romance
Author: Jenn Burke
Publisher: Carina Press
Release Date: February 4, 2019

Dying isn’t what it used to be.

Wes Cooper was dead. Then he wasn’t—though he’s not exactly alive, either. As an immortal not-ghost, he can transition between this world and the otherplane, which makes him the perfect thief for hire. For seventy years he’s made a “living” returning items to their rightful owners, seeing his fair share of the bizarre in the process. But he’s never witnessed murder. Until now.

His latest mission brings him more than he bargained for: a very-dead actor who is definitely going to stay that way. It’s just Wes’s luck that his ex-boyfriend, Detective Hudson Rojas, is assigned to the case. Hudson broke Wes’s heart years ago—and could again, given he’s rocking a hot silver-fox look that shouldn’t be legal.

As they work together to track down the murderer before anyone else gets hurt, it becomes clear Wes and Hudson have unfinished business. And when a secret Hudson’s been keeping threatens more than just their happiness, it might mean the end of their not-life together—permanently.

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“You are single, right?”“Yeah.” He turned back to watch Gemma’s condo. “We should pay attention to—”“And kids?”

“We need to—”

“We don’t have to look at each other to talk.” To make my point, I turned my gaze back to the empty front entrance too.

Hudson didn’t respond, and he was quiet for long enough that I thought he really wasn’t going to share anything. But then he said, “We talked about this.”

“Yeah. But it’s been thirty-three years. I figured some things were bound to change.”

He’d been—well, adamant wasn’t too strong of a word. No kids for Hudson. His upbringing hadn’t been the best, with an alcoholic father he hated to talk about, a series of stepmothers who rarely lasted more than a year, and a half-brother named Lance who was ten years his junior and lived overseas with his mother—or at least, he had, back in the eighties. Hudson had called him every Christmas we’d been together. He’d shared that there were some good memories of his parents from his childhood, back before his mother had died in a car accident. After that, his family life had descended into something less than tolerable.

So yeah, I got the no-kids thing. Hell if I wanted spawn of my own. I didn’t even know what they’d be—human? Not-ghost? Something else? It was probably best I never find out, and I couldn’t see that attitude changing. But then, like Hudson had pointed out, I was constant and unevolving. My perspective was set. His could have easily changed as he grew older.

“Not about kids,” Hudson said definitively.

“But a husband?”

“Why?” he demanded. “You fishing? You want to get back together?”

I gave up all pretense of watching what I was supposed to be watching, and turned to look at him. “Don’t you ever think about the good times?”

Off and on throughout the day, the happy moments we’d shared had been on replay in my brain, maybe as a way to try to convince myself that Hudson was still Hudson. I wasn’t sure if they were successful or not, but damn, they were some good memories.

“Of course I do.” His expression softened. “Like going up to Algonquin Park and camping under the stars.”

I smiled. I’d hated the obnoxiousness of Hudson’s El Camino, with its noisy engine and excessively large aftermarket tires, but the truck bed had been pretty sweet. Throw an air mattress back there with a few sleeping bags, and…yeah. “Hearing the wolves was pretty magical.”

Hudson laughed. “You were terrified.”

“I was n—” I scrunched up my nose. “Okay, maybe I was. A little. They sounded really close.”

“They weren’t.”

“But they sounded like they were and that was all that mattered.”

“You were…” He paused before voicing the rest of his thought. “So honest.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were scared and you didn’t try to hide it. You wanted me to comfort you, so you asked for it. You were…you are a lot braver than you give yourself credit for.”

I snorted. “Like that small shit matters.”

“Of course it matters. You’ve always been unapologetically you. It was something—something I aspired to.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Because you weren’t happy, and I sure as hell wasn’t happy, and we were never going to make each other happy. I wasn’t what you needed.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Is it? Think about it. You needed someone to accept you, to welcome you, to love you as openly as they could, and that wasn’t me.”

“It could have been.”

“Not a chance. Not in 1985.” Hudson lifted his hand as though he were going to cup my cheek.

Despite the questions that still lingered between us, I wanted to feel his skin on mine. I wanted to feel the roughness of his hands, the calluses that had always made his touch that little bit more interesting. I closed my eyes—

“And not now.”

Jenn Burke has loved out-of-this-world romance since she first read about heroes and heroines kicking butt and falling in love as a preteen. Now that she’s an author, she couldn’t be happier to bring adventure, romance, and sexy times to her readers.

Jenn is the author of a number of paranormal and science fiction romance titles, including the critically acclaimed Chaos Station science fiction romance series (authored with Kelly Jensen) from Carina Press.

She’s been called a pocket-sized and puntastic Canadian on social media, and she’ll happily own that label. Jenn lives just outside of Ottawa, Ontario, with her husband and two kids, plus two dogs named after video game characters…because her geekiness knows no bounds.

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Excerpt: Shadow & Ice by Gena Showalter

 

SHADOW AND ICE
Series: Gods of War #1
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author: Gena Showalter
Release Date: October 23, 2018

Gena Showalter, the New York Times bestselling author who brought you the Lords of the Underworld, introduces a scorching new paranormal romance series… Gods of War.

Knox of Iviland has spent his life competing in the All Wars, where vicious warriors with supernatural powers fight to the death to claim new realms. One winner takes everything—and all losers die. Enslaved as a child for his ability to control shadows, the most ruthless champion in history will stop at nothing to kill his king. But first he must win the battle for Earth. When a fearsome weapon imprisons every combatant in ice, centuries pass without progress…until she walks in.

Vale London craves a fun arctic getaway with her foster sister before settling down to open a bakery. Street-tough but vulnerable, she is unprepared to find ancient gods escaping a frozen cave—merciless beings who target her when she inadvertently enters their war.

Though Vale is now his enemy, Knox is consumed with lust and a fierce need to protect her. But only one combatant can prove victorious, and he will have to choose: live for freedom, or die for love.

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Present DaySomewhere in the Arctic Circle

“Heads are going to roll.”

Sore, tired and chilled to the bone, Vale London dropped a ten thousand pound backpack, leaned against a wall of ice and scanned her surroundings—a sea of snow broken up by mountains and seracs that made her fancy that ocean waves had flash-froze just before they’d come crashing down.

Frigid wind howled, the sound of it somehow more glacial than the below zero temp, screams of pain and helplessness seeming to echo within.

“Are we talking literally or figuratively?” Her be­loved foster sister Magnolia “Nola” Lee dropped her pack as well, sat atop it and drew a thick flannel blan­ket around her shoulders. “With you I never know.”

Vale savored the flavor of sweetened brown butter that coated her tongue. At some point in her childhood development, wires had gotten crossed in her brain, leaving her with a severe case of synesthesia. She heard sounds, just like everyone else, but she tasted them, too. Letters also registered as colors, and numbers appeared as a three-dimensional map inside her head.

The more nuanced the sound, the richer the flavor.

“Figuratively…maybe,” she replied. “The next time I see our absentee guide, he’ll be lucky to walk away. Or even crawl.” She wasn’t known as a street-tough scrap­per for nothing! And the POS had ruined what was sup­posed to be the vacation of a lifetime, so he had to pay.

Dang it, Nola hadn’t needed this kind of stress, or danger. She’d needed a break. The girl worked two full time jobs. If she wasn’t baking and selling the goods at local office buildings, she was writing How To copy for her dating column in Oklahoma Love Match magazine. And Vale… Vale had needed a break from everything. Had hoped to enjoy one last hoorah—or maybe a first hoorah—before she and Nola settled down and opened a fancy-schmancy gourmet donut shop slash catering center slash speed dating and bachelorette party hub, with Vale on paperwork duty and Nola behind the oven and the counter.

Vale’s biggest mistake? Booking each extracurric­ular activity with the cheapest company possible, in order to do more stuff on a limited budget. Quality beat quantity; she understood that now. So how about a break, world?


Gena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of the spellbinding Lords of the Underworld and Angels of the Dark series, two young adult series–Everlife and the White Rabbit Chronicles–and the highly addictive Original Heartbreakers series. In addition to being a National Reader’s Choice and two time RITA nominee, her romance novels have appeared in Cosmopolitan (Red Hot Read) and Seventeen magazine, she’s appeared on Nightline and been mentioned in Orange is the New Black–if you ask her about it, she’ll talk for hours…hours! Her books have been translated in multiple languages.

She’s hard at work on her next novel, a tale featuring an alpha male with a dark side and the strong woman who brings him to his knees. You can learn more about Gena, her menagerie of rescue dogs, and all her upcoming books at genashowalter.com or Facebook.com/genashowalterfans

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Exclusive Excerpt: Wild With You by Layla Hagen

WILD WITH YOU
Series: The Connor Family #2
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Layla Hagen
Release Date: August 14, 2018

Lori

Planning weddings is my dream job. As a single Mom, I live vicariously through my brides. From picking the dress to cutting the cake, I’m there every step of the way.

When I meet the best man at the latest wedding, sparks fly. Graham Frazier is more than I bargained for. The charismatic soccer club owner is disillusioned with marriage after his divorce, so it’s part of my job to make sure he won’t slip any sarcastic jokes in his best man’s speech.

It’s not part of my job to notice his washboard abs, or that he kisses like a dream. Graham’s touch is sizzling.

Before I know it, he bosses me into accepting gifts and spending the night at his house (his excuse is good: I can’t possibly drive after working a wedding, can I?)

I say yes to both. There are no two ways about it. I have the hots for this bossy man.

Graham

Since my divorce, weddings aren’t my favorite events. But when my best friends decide to tie the knot, I promise to throw them a party they won’t forget.

I was counting on sitting through long hours of preparations, but I didn’t count on meeting someone like Lori Connor.

I pursue her relentlessly, wanting those long legs wrapped around me and her smooth skin under my lips.

Then I meet her son, and that boy charms me even faster than his mother did. Before I know it, he has me wrapped around his little finger.

But are Lori and I ready for our lives to intertwine in ways we haven’t even imagined before?

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When I approached my entrance gate, I spotted Lori’s car farther down the street. I found her inside the tent, perched on a stool, securing the end of a piece of linen in a corner. Everyone else seemed to have left already. Yesterday, the tent had been bare. Now, it was adorned with decorations of all kinds. The tables and chairs had also been arranged in wedding formation.Lori didn’t give any signs of hearing me approach, even though my steps were echoing across the floor. When I was close enough, I realized she was tapping her foot against the edge of the chair. She had earbuds plugged in. After stepping down from the chair, she clapped her hands twice, shimmying her hips, then slowly turned around. Her grin was so wide it lit up the space. Then she glimpsed me.

“Oh my God.” She took out her earbuds, laying them on her shoulder. “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re the last one here?”

“Yes. Amber and my assistant just left. How come you’re home so early?”

Because I needed to see you.

“We had the calendar photo shoot today. Didn’t feel like heading to the club once it was over.”

“Oooh, that calendar is my guilty pleasure. And this year, you’re in it too, right?”

I cocked a brow. “How do you know?”

“Amber. And Facebook. I voted for the shirtless option, obviously. Please tell me you didn’t chicken out and went through with it. It had the most votes.”

Finding out that Lori had a feisty side was a very pleasant surprise. I felt like keeping her on her toes a while longer.

“You’ll have to wait and see. So, what were you celebrating when I interrupted?” I asked, moving closer.

“Nothing in particular. I like listening to music when I’m alone. It’s been a productive day. I finished putting up the decorations, and I’m taking my boy to a concert tonight. A fine gentleman got us tickets. Thanks again.”

“No problem.” I was close enough to hear a faint sound coming from the earbuds, but I stepped closer still. I wanted to share this moment with her, so I put in one earbud. Johnny Cash was singing a classic.

“That’s a great song.”

“I know,” she said a little smugly. I suspected that if I weren’t here, she’d still be clapping and moving her hips. I wanted in on her happy moment, to celebrate it with her. She was grinning again. Her joy was contagious. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way. When I put the earbud back on her shoulder, I couldn’t help myself and touched her collarbone. Her eyes widened, but instead of stopping me, she sighed softly. That little sound was my undoing. I knew that touching her wouldn’t be enough. I needed to taste her. So I dragged my knuckles down her cheek, framing her jaw with my thumb and forefinger. She licked her lips.

I claimed her mouth the next second. I took my time, lavishing her lips with attention before coaxing her tongue with mine, savoring her like the prize she was.

Her hair was pulled in a braid, but I buried my hands in it anyway. Her warm body pressed against mine, and feeling her full breasts was torture. Touching her hair wasn’t enough anymore. I moved my hands down her body, stopping briefly to cup the sides of her breasts, flicking my thumbs over the peaks. Lori ran a hand through my hair, tugging until it was erring on the side of painful, but I liked it. I loved that I could unleash her passion just with a kiss. I continued my exploration, moving my hands downward. When I palmed her ass, she moaned against my mouth and pressed her thighs together. She was wet for me; I was sure of it. It took all my self-restraint not to spread her out before me and confirm it with my fingers, or my tongue. I nearly yanked her top and jeans away. I needed everything separating me from her skin out of the way, but we weren’t there yet. So I held her and kissed her until we were both out of breath.

Layla Hagen has a great giveaway for running on her facebook page – head on over to check it out!

Layla Hagen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance.

She fell in love with books when she was nine years old, and her love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.

She writes steamy and romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.

She is represented by fabulous Louise Fury (The Bent Agency)

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Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Giveaway: Intrepid by @KeriLake

I am BEYOND excited to share this DELICIOUS cover for Keri Lake’s INTREPID. If you’re not going to be left a drooling mess after laying your peepers on this, I’ll be shocked!

Title: Intrepid
Genre: Contemporary, Dark Romance
Author: Keri Lake
Release Date: April 10, 2018

In the corner house of an empty street, there is a boy inside a box. In that boy, there lives a secret, one so dark, it’s sealed with locks.

Nearly ten years have passed since the night I was captured. Tricked and betrayed, I suffered the hours of brutal torment with death’s cold whisper across my skin. And when the nameless faces that haunted my nightmares took everything and everyone I loved, I feared I’d never be free of the darkness.

But that’s the thing about fear. Over time, it breeds anger, and when anger fills the box, vengeance bleeds out.

It’s been almost a decade since I escaped their hell, staying in the shadows, hiding my demons, and God help them now that I’ve tasted retribution and crave more of it.

Blood is the price for pain, and I vow to take everything and everyone they love. I’m no longer a frightened boy, but the intrepid vigilante, a ruthless executioner, who will stop at nothing to punish the depraved few that stole my life and walked free.

The plan is perfect, except for her. The one woman I’m forbidden to have, whose soothing touch settles my fractured mind. My angel of mercy sent to silence the voices. Yet, not even she can save me from the black void wherein my skeletons lie buried beneath the truth. Because in order to feed my thirst for revenge, I have to destroy the very thing that gives me purpose.

Tooth for a tooth, heart for a heart.

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The stranger stepped into my view, his hand outstretched. “So you did it.”In spite of the ache in my back, I allowed him to pull me up to a stand.

The echo of pain lingered in my ankle, knocking me back a step, but he yanked tight, and wrapped his hand around my waist to steady me.

“You need me to carry you?”

“No. This is humiliating enough. I’ll suffer the walk, thanks.”

We rounded the building—ungracefully hobbled, in my case—to find a fire truck, police cars, and a crowd of people corralled together.

Though, that didn’t shock me quite as much as seeing the long, sturdy-looking fire escape snaking down the side of the building.

“You said there wasn’t a fire escape! Why did you lie?”

He shot a glance over his shoulder, but kept on down the side street. “You said you couldn’t climb down the chimney. You lied, too.”

“I had no choice! I could’ve died up there!”

“Everyone has a choice. So, how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?” I hissed, and at a sharp throb along my shin, I winced.

“To conquer your fear.”

I paused, dumbfounded, and looked back to the building and the chimney I’d just climbed down. Ninety feet high inside a cramped space. Something I wouldn’t have willingly done, had someone paid me.

“Offer’s still there, if you want a ride home.” Twisting around to face me, he walked backwards, sliding a pair of gloves onto his hands. “Or you can wait for your Uber. Your choice.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Ty.”

“I’m Sera. As in Serafina.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Rearing back, I frowned, folding my arms as I followed after him. “Um. How?”

“Bea! Simone! It’s Sera! Wait for me!” His hands waved dramatically in the air, mocking me.

Biting the inside of my cheek stifled the urge to laugh. “Right.”

“So, Serafina. Named after the angels.” He came to a stop in front of a sleek black motorcycle hidden in the brush, and handed me a helmet he pulled from somewhere on the other side of it.

“What are you, a religion major?”

He smirked and looked past me for a moment, as if checking to make sure no one had followed us.

Paranoid, I checked, too, before shifting my attention back to the impressive machinery standing before me. “I’ve never been on a bike before.”

Lips screwed to a wry smile, he mounted the bike and jerked his head for me to get on behind him. “Well, this night just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it, Sera?”


OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES:

RICOCHET (VIGILANTES, #1):

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BACKFIRE (VIGILANTES, #2):

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Keri Lake is a dark romance writer who specializes in demon wrangling, vengeance dealing and wicked twists. Her stories are gritty, with antiheroes that walk the line of good and bad, and feisty heroines who bring them to their knees. When not penning books, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters, and their rebellious Labrador (who doesn’t retrieve a damn thing). She runs on strong coffee and alternative music, loves a good red wine, and has a slight addiction to dark chocolate.

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