COLD BLOODED by Toni Anderson

COLD BLOODED by Toni Anderson releases June 12th – but if you can’t wait, be sure to check out an excerpt below and then preorder your copy today!

Romantic suspense lovers – this is the series for you!

About COLD BLOODED

Available June 12th

Searching for the truth…

Disgraced investigative journalist Pip West is devastated when she discovers her best friend’s body face-down in a tranquil lake. When cops and federal agents determine that her friend overdosed then drowned, Pip knows they’re mistaken and intends to prove it.

Special Agent Hunt Kincaid doesn’t trust journalists and has no patience for Pip’s delusions, especially since her meddling could reveal why the FBI is interested in her friend’s last days. The dead scientist worked at the cutting edge of vaccine research and might have a connection to a new, weaponized, vaccine-resistant anthrax strain that just hit the black market.

…just turned deadly.

Pip is thrown off her game by grief and her unexpected attraction to the handsome federal agent. Hunt battles the same unwelcome pull, determined to resist the heat that threatens to consume them both. But the more Pip digs, the closer she gets to both the sexy FBI agent, and to a bioweapons terrorist who’s more than capable of cold-bloodedly sacrificing anyone who gets in his way.

Add COLD BLOODED to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2IIJoYs

COLD BLOODED releases June 12th – preorder your copy of COLD BLOODED now!

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Read an excerpt of COLD BLOODED:

Hunt opened his wallet and pulled out enough bills to cover both meals.

She dug into her pocket for her wallet.

“I’ve got this,” he said.

She opened her mouth to argue.

“I’ve got this, Pip. Put your money away.”

She let him because it wasn’t worth fighting over. “I don’t like charity.”

“You can pay next time.”

It was a throwaway comment, a reflex on his part.

“Will there be a next time?” Hope, heat and vulnerability were naked in her voice, though she tried to disguise them. But she needed to know what this was between them.

He looked at her and something changed in his eyes, heated and softened. “What do you think?”

He took her hand and tugged her gently out of her seat and toward the door. Once on the sidewalk he turned to face her and brushed her hair to one side. Then he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her again. A jolt of heat shot along her nerves. Tangy and sizzling. Alive. She held onto his forearms as he tilted her chin and deepened the kiss.

His tongue touched hers and she moaned and felt him smile against her lips. She tangled her tongue with his. He tasted like beer and salt and hot alpha male. Her fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, the warm cotton of his t-shirt. The scent of his leather jacket mixed with the musky scent of his skin made her knees go a little weak.

He pulled back, still cupping her face. Before she could think or speak he kissed her again and a tremor of longing ran through her. She curled her fingers into his t-shirt and pulled him tighter against her.

When they broke away they were both breathing hard.

“Come on.” He took her hand and strode along the sidewalk, around the corner to their vehicles. He opened her door, boosting her into the seat, his hands lingering on her hips in a way that suggested he didn’t want to let go.

“Come home with me,” he said gruffly.

A wave of desire curled inside, tumbling her thoughts into a mass of confusion. She wanted him, but she’d always been lousy at casual sex. But goddamn it, she’d almost died today and this was something she’d been thinking about since he’d come to her room that morning. And that was before he’d thrown himself over her to save her from flying bullets.

They were only alive thanks to a fickle dose of good luck.

Live a little.

Cindy’s voice in her head dared her.

The dead woman was haunting her now.

His eyes were dark with night shadows. “I want to show you something.”

She snorted.

He grinned and took her hand, his fingers kneading the tension out of her joints. “That too, but if you’re not interested or you change your mind at any point, I will make sure you get home safely. There is something else I’d like to show you. Something important.”

She wasn’t one to trust easily, but what did she have to lose? This would be a way to forget the sadness from the last few days. Unlike drugs or alcohol, sex with Hunt Kincaid wouldn’t destroy her mind or body, though it might damage her heart.

But if she knew it was temporary going in, she could protect her heart. He’d be a distraction. Not an addiction.

She wanted this, she realized. She wanted him.

“Okay.”

See the COLD BLOODED trailer now:

About Toni Anderson

New York Times and USA Today international bestselling author, Toni Anderson, writes dark, gritty Romantic Suspense novels that have hit #1 in Barnes & Noble’s Nook store, the Top 10 in Amazon and Kobo stores, and the Top 50 in iBooks. Her novels have won many awards. A former Marine Biologist from Britain, she inexplicably ended up in the geographical center of North America, about as far from the ocean as it is possible to get. She now lives in the Canadian prairies with her Irish husband and two children and spends most of her time complaining about the weather.

Toni has no explanation for her oft-times dark imagination, and only hopes the romance makes up for it. She’s addicted to reading, dogs, tea, and chocolate.

If you want to know when Toni’s next book will be out, visit her website (http://www.toniandersonauthor.com) and sign up for her newsletter. If you want to read other fascinating stories about life in a city that, during winter, is sometimes colder than Mars, friend her on Facebook: (https://www.facebook.com/toniannanderson).

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MELT FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger

Are you ready for your first look at Cameron McGregor? Check out an excerpt of MELT FOR YOU by J.T. Geissinger below! Preorder your copy now and get your hands on him when MELT FOR YOU publishes May 15th!

About MELT FOR YOU

A wallflower gets seduction tips from a playboy athlete—until love changes the rules.

Socially awkward Joellen Bixby has a date every Saturday—with her cat, a pint of ice cream, and fantasies of the way-too-handsome Michael Maddox. She’d give anything to win over the unattainable CEO of her firm, but how can she when she blends in so well with her cubicle? The answer may be closer than she thinks.

Cameron McGregor is a cocky, tattooed Scottish rugby captain who just moved in next door. He’s not Jo’s type—at all—but the notorious playboy is offering to teach the wallflower everything he knows about inspiring desire. Though a lot of women have rumpled Cam’s kilt, Jo is special. Far from the ugly duckling she thinks she is, in Cam’s eyes she’s sharp, funny, and effortlessly sexy. Now, thanks to him, Jo is blooming with confidence and has the man of her dreams within reach.

Unfortunately for Cam, he’s just helped to push the woman of his dreams into the arms of another man—and now he’s in the fight of his life to keep this beauty from getting away.

Add MELT FOR YOU to your Goodreads list here!

Preorder your copy of MELT FOR YOU now: https://amzn.to/2qBO2AM

Read an Excerpt from MELT FOR YOU

“Remember to breathe,” he whispers.

“Just kiss me already,” I whisper back, surprised by how much it sounds like a plea.

“Your eyes are still open.”

I immediately shut them.

His soft laugh sends a thrill up my spine. “If only you were that obedient all the time, lass.” He lightly nips my lower lip, a dark, delicious little promise.

My hands. What do I do with my hands? They’re flattened against his chest again, but that seems lame, so I slide them up around his neck…and discover his hair. Good lord. Thick, glossy strands of hair slide like silk between my fingers. It’s longer than any of the men’s at the office, much longer than Michael’s, past the collar of his shirt, dark and waving, exquisitely soft.

As his tongue slowly begins to probe my mouth, I tug on all that gorgeous hair, forgetting I’m not supposed to be enjoying this.

I arch against him, softening, expanding, breathing deeply through my nose as the kiss deepens and begins to burn. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was experienced. He knows exactly what to do, how to get my blood sizzling and my heart hammering and all the pornographic images of him nude and splayed out like the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received pulsing like neon signs inside my head.

My nipples tighten. There’s a new heaviness between my legs, but it’s not him, it’s me, flushed and aching, every pull of his lips sending a spike of heat to that hollow space inside me that I’m becoming acutely aware of, its muted little howls of need.

I break away to check in before I lose myself completely and choke him with my prehensile tongue. “How’m I doing?” I mumble, flushed and out of breath.

His eyes drift open. Hot and dark, they pin me in place. “Jury’s still out,” he says, his voice thick. “Need more evidence.”

His mouth. I will drown in the pleasure of his mouth. I’ll die on this sofa and Mrs. Dinwiddle will find my body, fingers and toes chewed on by the poor starving cat.

The kiss grows decadent. Sinful. I moan, a desperate sound rising from the back of my throat. It has an interesting effect on Cam.

His entire body goes stiff.

He takes my head in both hands, breaks the kiss, and turns his face away. He breathes raggedly for a few moments, his nostrils flared and his jaw like granite. With his fingers pressed into my scalp, he says roughly, “You can’t make noises like that.”

Oh God. I sound like a warthog. A donkey. A trained pig, snuffling through the underbrush in search of truffles. “Okay.”

The humiliation in my voice makes his eyes slash to mine. “It’s not bad. It’s just…distracting.”

Distracting?

He slightly shifts his weight, and things are clarified.

I bite my lip so hard I might have drawn blood. My heart is a hummingbird beating frantically against a cage. I whisper, “You said you wouldn’t get aroused.”

He looks at my mouth like a warlord looking over a kingdom he’s just seized. “I lied.”

A kiss again, dangerous, like standing at the edge of a cliff and looking over, shifting dirt and rocks tumbling beneath your feet. My fingers twist in his hair. His hands move my head, left or right, however he wants it, a throbbing pulse like drumbeats in my ears. I’m so turned on I feel frantic, unstable, like I might break out of my own skin.

Caterpillar becoming butterfly. Chrysalis shed, wings outstretched, wind beneath my belly. Caught on an updraft. Beating, beating, flying free.

He breaks the kiss, suddenly, shatteringly, the separation like breaking glass. Dizzy, I whimper at the loss of his mouth.

“Fuck. Joellen. Fuck.”

He’s panting, his voice a desperate rasp. He radiates heat like a furnace. Even his hands on my head are hot, burning right through my skull.

With his scent in my nose and his heat wrapped around me and his heart pounding against mine, I’m somewhere else. I’m someone else. A gypsy, casting spells. A sloe-eyed singer in a smoky jazz club. A femme fatale in a film noir, all knowing smiles and long legs and a throaty voice with an edge like a purr.

“Don’t stop,” I say in my new voice. “You taste so good.”

He stares right at me, his eyes intensely aglow. Tiger eyes. Wolf eyes. The eyes of a predator about to pounce on his meal.

He growls, “You like the way I taste?”

There’s a challenge in the question. Other than his ragged breathing, he’s so still, every muscle tensed.

What’s happening?

I come back to myself abruptly, all at once aware of how far this little experiment has gone, how dangerously close it is to the point of no return, and the cat up on the kitchen table eating the remains of Cam’s dinner from his plate.

Oh shit. My face floods with heat.

I’m not a gypsy. I’m not a femme fatale. I’m an awkward, lonely woman sitting on the lap of the most famous athlete on the planet, making an utter fool of myself.

About J.T. Geissinger

A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense.

She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.

Join her Facebook reader’s group, Geissinger’s Gang, to take part in weekly Wine Wednesday live chats and giveaways, find out more information about works in progress, have access to exclusive excerpts and contests, and get advance reader copies of her upcoming releases.

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ROYAL MESS by Jenna Sutton

Do you have royal fever? Us too! You don’t want to miss ROYAL MESS by Jenna Sutton – read an excerpt below and be sure to preorder your copy today! Plus, enter to win an awesome giveaway that ends Friday, May 4th!

About ROYAL MESS

Available May 8th

From award-winning author Jenna Sutton comes the story of two princes who discover that falling in love is messy

Prince Leo’s icy demeanor has earned him an amusing nickname—the Polar Prince. Unfortunately, the king doesn’t see the humor. If Leo wants to secure the throne of Alsania, he must improve his image. Participating in an organ donation campaign seems like a good start. He expects to donate his organs on his deathbed, so he’s surprised to be matched with a complete stranger who needs his help now.

Tessa Lulach hates to admit it, but she’s a damsel in distress. When a handsome prince offers to save her with a hunk of his liver, she joyfully accepts. She can’t wait to feel like herself again and return to her beloved flower shop. Instead, her identity is revealed, and the quiet life she loves is turned upside down.

As Leo and Tessa deal with the nosy public and ruthless paparazzi, she realizes the Polar Prince is much warmer than he seems—scorching hot, in fact. He willingly gave her a part of his liver, but can he give her his whole heart?

*****

Everyone loves Prince Marco of Alsania, despite his reckless antics … or maybe because of them. So why does sexy schoolteacher Cassie Lulach prefer a boring investment banker over him? Wounded by her indifference, he has an erotic encounter with a masked woman at a royal ball who reminds him of the one he really wants.

After another failed relationship, Cassie is frustrated with immature, inconsiderate guys. Wanting to escape reality, she attends a masquerade ball and finds herself alone with a masked stranger. For the first time in her life, she acts on impulse, only to end up pregnant and absolutely clueless about the identity of her baby’s father.

When Marco learns of Cassie’s pregnancy and her plans to raise the baby alone, he promises to be there for her, hoping she’ll finally see him as more than just a playboy prince. But then he discovers she’s the woman from the masquerade ball and panics. Will the truth destroy his chance to win over Cassie, or will he convince her that they can have their own happily ever after?

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Read an Excerpt from ROYAL MESS

“I wanted to let you know that I’m going to do a media tour to talk about my experience as a living donor,” Leo says.

Surprised by his announcement, I emit an involuntary “Oh!”

The royal family is constantly in the news. From the king’s work in parliament and the queen’s charitable efforts to Prince Leo’s diplomatic trips abroad and Prince Marco’s latest antics, there’s plenty of fodder for the media.

“People are curious, and I’d rather they hear the real story from me instead of”—he makes air quotes with both hands—“an unnamed source close to the prince. Who knows? Maybe I can persuade more people to be living donors.”

“That’d be amazing if you could, Leo. There aren’t enough donors, living or deceased.”

He leans forward. “How would you feel about participating in the media tour … coming forward as a transplant recipient?”

It takes a moment for his words to register. When they do, my whole body recoils. “I don’t know…”

I trail off, unable to articulate my feelings. If my donor liver came from a normal person instead of Leo, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell everyone my story. But Leo’s royal blood—his position as the future king of Alsania—complicates things. The thought of being stalked by paparazzi makes it hard for me to breathe.

“Hey.” One of Leo’s big hands curves over my knee. “Listen to me, Tessa.” He squeezes lightly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s your decision.”

I shrug uncomfortably. “I need some time to think about it. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.

He drops his hand from my knee and rises from the chair. His broad chest blocks my view of the rest of the room, and I have to tilt my head back to see his eyes.

To my surprise, he moves closer and cups his hands around my face. His skin is hot and supple like the leather seats in a sports car in the summer. He strokes the pads of his thumbs across my cheekbones, and that simple touch spreads heat throughout my body.

“Look at you.” His voice is deep and husky. “Your cheeks are so pink.”

Pink from desire. Pink from excitement.

One of his thumbs cruises down to my mouth and skims across my bottom lip. “And your lips…”

I must be having an out-of-body experience. Or maybe I’m in a medically induced coma and this is just a hallucination. I don’t know how else to explain what’s happening.

“What about my lips?”

“They’re pink too,” he whispers, “like those peonies you dropped.”

I wrap my hands around his wrists, not to push him away but to keep him close. “Leo…”

Kiss me. Please. Now.

A groan rumbles in his chest, and that rough sound creates an ache between my legs. Sliding his hand into my hair, he palms my head and brings his mouth to mine.

Want to win?

Enter to win a $50 Amazon gift card and a totebag – it ends Friday, May 4th! You can enter here!

About Jenna Sutton

Jenna Sutton is a former award-winning journalist who traded fact for fiction when she began writing novels. Surprisingly, the research she conducted for her articles provided a lot of inspiration for her books. She’s the author of the Riley O’Brien & Co. romances and the new Trinity Distillery series. Although Jenna calls Texas home, more often than not, she’s somewhere else. Her love’s job takes him all over the country, and she tags along, just like a groupie follows her favorite band.

You can find out more about Jenna and her work on her website http://www.jennasutton.com. Sign up for her newsletter at http://bit.ly/1K8MaCH to access the latest news and monthly contests.

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THE HOOKUP by Erin McCarthy

Ready to get a sneak peek at THE HOOKUP by Erin McCarthy, coming May 8th? Check out an excerpt below and preorder your copy now!

About THE HOOKUP

Available May 8th

Is there an equation for the perfect hookup? Turns out it’s a lot more complicated than one plus one. . . .

Sophie: Numbers are my comfort zone, which explains why my sex life is a big fat zero. Then again, if I’m smart enough to earn a PhD, why can’t I calculate a way to get a guy into bed, just to see what all the fuss is about? With my prima donna sister, Bella, getting married in Maine, I figure her wedding is the perfect opportunity for my little experiment. And Cain Jordan seems hot enough—he’s certainly drunk enough—to show me what I’ve been missing. Judging by the body of evidence, it’s a lot. . . .

Cain: Being stuck in the same town as my lying SOB twin brother, Christian—who may or may not be the father of the son I’m not allowed to see—is a hell of a reason to drink myself silly after the lobster boat docks each day. Any port in a storm . . . But Sophie’s different. She doesn’t play around. And she’s becoming a habit I don’t want to break. Because the smartest woman I’ve ever met is also the sexiest—and the only one who makes me want to change.

Don’t miss Bella and Christian’s story in The Breakup!

THE HOOKUP releases May 8th – preorder your copy now!

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✦ Kobo http://bit.ly/2oRza07

Read an Excerpt from THE HOOKUP

I saw him the minute we walked into the bar. A guy perched comfortably on a stool, his arms muscular, his grin confident, arrogant. He had short dark hair and a jawline that was sharp and symmetrical. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, this was no software engineer or physicist. This was one of those manly men that they use for memes on Pinterest and for beer commercials and underwear ads. He was abs and ass, muscles and machismo, and like any other female, I had an immediate reaction to all that testosterone.

My heart started to race and my body started to tense and tighten, and grow warm in places that normally only got hot and wet in the privacy of my own apartment. I wanted to fan myself as I stared at him, blinking through the veil of mascara and fake lashes.

It was like my vagina stood up and sang. Him. He would be the one. The man to take my virginity and make it a memory. He wasn’t my type, but that wasn’t the point. He wouldn’t be interested in me either, but I knew enough about bar culture to know that if he was here, he was interested in going home with a girl. I could be that girl.

I was delusional, of course, a fact I was forced to acknowledge immediately when I realized that despite the fact that my dress had coaxed huge cleavage from my reluctant breasts, the hottie was checking out my sister.

So typical. But I couldn’t deny that blondes were more fun. At least more fun than me.

I walked past him to the bar and plucked the menu off the countertop, debating how to proceed. Men. The one equation I could never solve.

About Erin McCarthy

USA Today and New York Times Bestselling author Erin McCarthy first published in 2002 and has since written over sixty novels and novellas in teen fiction, new adult romance, paranormal, and contemporary romance. Erin is a RITA finalist and an ALA Reluctant Young Reader award recipient, and is both traditionally and indie published.

When she’s not writing she can be found sipping martinis in high heels or eating ice cream in fleece pajamas depending on the day, and herding her animals, kids, and amazing renovation-addicted husband.

Connect with Erin McCarthy

✦ Website http://www.erinmccarthy.net/
✦ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ErinMcCarthyBooks
✦ Twitter https://twitter.com/authorerin
✦ Instagram https://www.instagram.com/authorerinmccarthy/
✦ Goodreads https://tinyurl.com/yc2xuxbw
✦ Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/erin-mccarthy

CHEEKY ROYAL by Nana Malone

Cheeky Royal by Nana Malone is AVAILABLE NOW!
Keep reading for an excerpt and PREORDER Cheeky Royal Now!

“Nana Malone delivers royal-worthy chemistry in a snappy, page-turning package. Penny and Prince Sebastian are everything! Give us the next book now!”
Max Monroe, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2F8UJ6A
iBooks → https://apple.co/2I1UIiO
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All they want is everything they can’t have.
Penny…
Yes, yes, I’ve heard the rumors.
The prince is royal, and cocky and has a—well never mind about all that.
The problem is, he’s also my job.
When the King called on me to retrieve the wayward prince, I was ready to walk away.
Then I caught my boyfriend cheating—and suddenly leaving never felt like a better idea.
Sebastian…
I never wanted the throne.
When I left behind my gilded cage of a palace, it all sounded so simple: find my long-lost brother & make him the prince so I don’t have to rule the kingdom like my father expects.
Then I meet my new neighbor, and quickly realize I’ve found the queen of my heart—and bed.
Just one problem, I can’t let her find out who I really am.

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2FRpdHt

EXCERPT:

I shook my head. “No. This guy just didn’t seem to understand my disinterest in him. And when I put my drink down, I accidentally kneed him in the balls.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “You accidentally kneed him in the balls?” 
The guy was still moaning on his knees.
”Yeah, I didn’t mean to do it.” I blinked my eyes as innocently as I could. Then the unthinkable happened. Sebastian’s arm went around me, and his voice went low and deadly as he addressed the guy on the floor still howling and holding the family jewels. “Listen to me. She’s a friend of mine. If I see you near her again, I’ll make your life very difficult. What she did to you on accident will seem like a walk in the park.” 
When he pulled me closer, I tipped my head up to glance at him, eyes wide. I was unprepared for what happened next. Sebastian squeezed me tightly, and I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine.
Oh God. 
Holy. Shitballs. On. A. Cracker. Pussy down. Pussy down!
The kiss was electric, hot, and quick. And then it was over so soon I couldn’t be sure it had happened. His electric blue gaze bore into mine before he whispered, “Like I said. She’s mine.” 
He let go of me then, and I had to work hard to fight the feeling of emptiness. 
Yeah, that’s right dumbass, you’re not actually his.

 

Grab the FREE PREQUEL, Cheeky Prince:

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2DPfEWM
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Nook → http://bit.ly/2DPaaeK
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Google Play → http://bit.ly/2pyHHoz

From USA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone, comes a sexy, royal novella.

What Good is a Throne if the King Isn’t Worthy…

Before I was a King…
Before I was known for my naked hot tub antics…
Before my neighbor turned my world upside down…
I was a Cheeky Prince.

PREORDER Cheeky King:

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2CY5dzP
iBooks → https://apple.co/2FnXY9T
Nook → http://bit.ly/2H1uADm
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Google → http://bit.ly/2oFyjj3

What good is a King without his Queen?
Sebastian…
I never wanted the crown, but now it’s mine.
Instead of my freedom–instead of her.
But even though she’s not mine to keep, I can’t seem to stay away.
Penny…
The moment he became king, I knew we were over.
Now I’ve returned home some kind of conquering hero.
If only they all knew that we’d both lost our hearts.
If only I could stay out of the royal bed.
What good is being cocky if you can’t get what you want?

ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2H4kxxt

About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling Author, NANA MALONE’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since.
With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana, meantime works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
The books in her series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble best seller lists as well as the iTunes Breakout Books list and most notably the USA Today Bestseller list.
Until that ninja job comes through, you’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series as well as other fun, sassy romances for characters that won’t leave her alone. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.
Want to hit me up? Just email me: nana@nanamaloneromance.com

Connect with Nana:
Website: http://nanamaloneromance.net/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nanamalonewriter/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2FrkDze
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2lQFmnX

REBEL HEIR by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons:

Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check.

Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check.

How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons:

Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season.

Check. Check. Check.

I should add—especially when the guy is your sexy, tattooed God of a boss.

Especially when he not only owns your place of employment but inherited half of the town.

Especially when he’s mean to you.

Or so I thought.

Until one night when he demanded I get in his car so he could drive me home because he didn’t want me walking in the dark.

That was sort of how it all started with Rush.

And then little by little, some of the walls of this hardass man started to come down.

I never expected that the two of us, seemingly opposites from the outside, would grow so close.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the rebel heir, especially when he made it clear he didn’t want to cross the line with me.

As the temperature turned cooler, the nights became hotter. My summer became a lot more interesting—and complicated.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

Rebel Heir is the first book in the Rush Series Duet. Book Two, Rebel Heart, will release six weeks later on May, 22, 2018.

Add to Goodreads ➜ Rebel Heir (Book One)

Add to Goodreads ➜Rebel Heart (Book Two)

PRE-ORDER

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“All done.” I found Gia in the yard sunbathing. Of course, she had to be lying on her stomach so I could get a closer look at her ass. It was fucking phenomenal. Like a chubby, upside-down heart from where I stood. I’d spent the last hour pretend fixing her car and picturing her riding me reverse cowgirl, those ass cheeks jiggling like fucking Jell-O while she rode me hard. I had to force my eyes to her face and clear my throat to continue. “Here are your keys. Your rotors were shot, too. In the future, don’t ride on bad brakes. It just turns a little problem into a big one.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun and twisted her neck to look up at me, still not flipping over to her stomach. “Oh. Okay. Thanks. Can I make you some lunch? It’s the least I can do to repay you for hours of working on my car.”

Is that ass on the menu?

“No. I have to get going.”

She lifted from flat on her stomach to on her knees in a yoga-like pose, taking her sweet ass time before turning over.

“Are you sure?” She bit her bottom lip. “You’ve had to have worked up an appetite.”

Is she fucking with me? I had an appetite alright. “I gotta run.”

I sounded like a broken record, yet here I still stood. My head wanted to get the fuck out of that yard, but my traitorous feet wouldn’t move. Not even when she stood up, turned around and practically rubbed her ass against me as she held up suntan lotion. “Could you rub some sunscreen on my back before you go? I don’t want to burn.”

No. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

I took the sunscreen and squeezed a glob of creamy white lotion into the palm of my hand. Swallowing hard, I began to rub it into her back. Her shoulders were warm and soft with the tiniest little layer of fuzz on it. It reminded me of a peach. My mouth salivated at the thought of biting into her.

“Could you do a little lower?”

My breathing became labored and my cock swelled as I lowered my hands and rubbed into the middle of her back. I was breaching into dangerous territory.

“Lower” she said. I knew from her breathy voice that I wasn’t the only one aroused.

I lowered to just above her bathing suit bottom and rubbed lotion all over.

When I finished, she turned her head so I could see the side of her face and closed her eyes to whisper, “lower.”

Fuck me.

I couldn’t stop myself. I reached for the creamy sunscreen and squeezed enough into my hand to cover a large person’s full body and then began to rub it into her ass cheeks. She had the most unique heart-shaped mole on her left side that was perfectly symmetrical. I ran my fingertips over it. When I trailed a pool of lotion to the top of her ass crack, and slowly rubbed it in tracing the material of her bathing suit in between her cheeks, she let out a low moan.

More. Make more sounds like that.

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over ninety Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Website | Facebook Fan Group | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over a million books sold, she is a seventeen-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over fifteen novels, including RoomHate which hit #2 on the New York Times bestseller list and #1 on the Wall Street Journal bestseller list. Other New York Times bestsellers include Stepbrother Dearest, Neighbor Dearest, Drunk Dial, Cocky Bastard, Stuck-Up Suit, Playboy Pilot and Mister Moneybags (the latter four co-written with Vi Keeland).

Connect with Penelope Ward

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Other books by the authors:

Cocky Bastard
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1LfN3fc
iTunes: http://apple.co/1PffE2J
B&N: http://bit.ly/1EjxNpY
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UxCSUO

Stuck-Up Suit
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1S3LnpZ
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Qbwy57
B&N: http://bit.ly/29vrQhV
Kobo: http:// bit.ly/1RJdUif

Playboy Pilot
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2d5I5rS
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Wb06Cf
Nook: bit.ly/2caXPEK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2cJDXO1

Mister Moneybags
Amazon http://amzn.to/2oTaaHf
Barnes & Noble http://smarturl.it/kx7h8m
iBooks http://smarturl.it/3y1tuq
Kobo http://smarturl.it/qqf5ho

Dear Bridget, I Want You
Amazon: ➜ http://amzn.to/2sGyJbZ
iBooks: ➜ http://smarturl.it/y4x3xi
B&N ➜ http://smarturl.it/o780mb

Other books from Vi Keeland:

Standalone novels
Sex, Not Love
Amazon ➜ http://amzn.to/2DtUO0L
iBooks ➜ http://smarturl.it/vlfabb
B&N ➜ http://smarturl.it/hivkor
Kobo ➜ http://smarturl.it/9bxfwx
Google Play ➜ http://smarturl.it/19muiq
Audio ➜ http://smarturl.it/qbf0bs

Beautiful Mistake
Amazon eBook http://amzn.to/2uoeoJN
iBooks http://smarturl.it/20x53a
B&N http://smarturl.it/n8jey6
Kobo http://smarturl.it/1btxsz

Egomaniac
Amazon: http://smarturl.it/b1gi74
iBooks: http://apple.co/2fIsmvC
B&N: http://smarturl.it/t4ohsv
Kobo: http://smarturl.it/azmhq9

Bossman
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2a8D5B6
iBooks: http://apple.co/25x2jyX
B&N: http://bit.ly/29sL4H2
Kobo: http://bit.ly/29lW19I

The Baller
Amazon: amzn.to/1PBF2hG
iBooks: http://bit.ly/iBooksBaller
B&N: http:// bit.ly/BarnesBaller
Kobo: http:// bit.ly/KoboBaller

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

First Thing I See

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/first-thing-i-see-ms-vi-keeland/1114703332

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)
Beat
http://www.amazon.com/Beat-Vi-Keeland-ebook/dp/B00ZOMUV12/ http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beat-vi-keeland/1121715501 https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/beat/id983959123 https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/beat-5

Throb

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/throb/id948747986
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/throb-vi-keeland/1121112695
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/throb-4

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)
Worth the Fight

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/worth-the-fight/id805540252
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/worth-the-fight-vi-keeland/1117014180
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/worth-the-fight

Worth the Chance

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/worth-the-chance/id813714461
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/worth-the-chance-vi-keeland/1118634058
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/worth-the-chance

Worth Forgiving

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/worth-forgiving/id906130022?ls=1&mt=11
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/worth-forgiving-vi-keeland/1120173153
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/worth-forgiving

The Cole Series (2 book serial)
Belong to You

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/belong-to-you/id639401754
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/belong-to-you-vi-keeland/1114962845
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you

Made for You

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/made-for-you/id84550637
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/made-for-you-vi-keeland/1115883225
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you

Other books from Penelope Ward:

Gentleman Nine
Amazon:http://amzn.to/2ELlxJl
iBooks: http://bit.ly/2D7K7Qi
Nook: http://bit.ly/2EPuDCn
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nMeoP3
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2C9ESTm
Audio : http://amzn.to/2nHRlVQ

Drunk Dial
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fXfzKn
iBooks: http://apple.co/2tq7dRz
Nook: http://bit.ly/2xeEH2H
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2ihXnMD
Audio: http://amzn.to/2fWnsQg

Mack Daddy:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2kWzE1S
iTunes: http://apple.co/2iNrIPj
B&N: http://hyperurl.co/aiypfj
Kobo: http://hyperurl.co/r3hv19

RoomHate
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TksrpE
iTunes: http://apple.co/1PgsvE7
B&N: http://bit.ly/1PLGnSL
kobo: http://bit.ly/1POvSnW

Stepbrother Dearest
Amazon http://amzn.to/1mFNMeg
ITunes: http://bit.ly/YER0mT
B&N: http://bit.ly/1taMFjG
kobo: http://bit.ly/1fJaaBs

Neighbor Dearest
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2aS8BPa
iTunes: http://apple.co/29mC6L8
B&N: http://bit.ly/2akQ2aq
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2axt1SY

Sins of Sevin
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1F9tbc3
iTunes: http://apple.co/1K8mzGg
B&N: http://bit.ly/1hTKAKE
kobo: http://bit.ly/1OaGY3D

Jake Undone (Jake #1)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dJrHBC
iTunes: http://apple.co/1fJayQ8
B&N: http://bit.ly/1obAwJ6
kobo: http://bit.ly/1SPKl0M

My Skylar
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1obOG2F
iTunes: http://bit.ly/SLNOTR
B&N: http://bit.ly/SLO1qi
kobo: http://bit.ly/1kNrtAB

Jake Understood (Jake #2)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GFdves
iTunes: http://apple.co/1DQQwgC
B&N: http://bit.ly/1FwJC0z
kobo: http://bit.ly/1LQ7Fvk

Gemini
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1vgk1SE
iTunes: http://apple.co/1QTaONj
B&N: http://bit.ly/1KfmLHD
kobo: http://bit.ly/1BGJ2wu

THE WORLD’S WORST BOYFRIEND by Erika Kelly

From award-winning author Erika Kelly comes her brand new, smoking hot series about four elite athlete brothers raised in the Tetons by their eccentric, billionaire dad and uncle, The Bad Boyfriend Series! Don’t miss your chance to meet the sexy and extreme Fin Bowie! THE WORLD’S WORST BOYFRIEND is now available! Grab your copy today!

Six years ago Fin Bowie made a decision that cost him the love of his life. Now his ex is coming back to town for her brother’s wedding, and he can finally make things right. Except, right before the event, a text he sent goes viral. Overnight, he becomes an international meme. And it’s hard to win your woman back when the whole world’s calling you The World’s Worst Boyfriend.

The last thing on Calliope Bell’s mind is getting back with Fin. Not when her life’s just gone sideways, forcing her to spend the summer in Calamity, Wyoming. She can’t be away from the New York art world this long, so she comes up with the idea to turn the hottest pop culture event of the moment into a museum exhibition.

The two have every intention of avoiding each other–until the county judge sentences Fin to community service…helping her exploit the meme he’s trying to make go away.

Order THE WORLD’S WORST BOYFRIEND in ebook or paperback today!

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Add to your Goodreads

EXCERPT:The sight of Fin Bowie standing in her foyer hit like opening the door to a surprise party. That disheveled hair and facial scruff, his big, muscular body and moody expression, made Callie’s heart flip over.

His black leather jacket hung open, exposing a white V-neck T-shirt. Faded jeans encased powerful thighs, the frayed hem bunching over black leather boots.

“Hey.” Did she have to sound so out of breath? Her heart pounded like she’d just been chased through the woods at night by a bear.

And it didn’t help that his gaze took a slow roll up her body, from her red-tipped toes to her bare legs—her upper thighs covered in ruffled cotton sleep shorts—to the pink long-sleeved T-shirt covering her chest. When he finally reached her eyes, his nostrils flared, and his expression turned carnal. A zing of awareness shot through her.

And then he smiled. And when Fin Bowie smiled it was like the finale of a fireworks display. “What’s up?” She hated the slight tremor in her voice. Worse, she hated the fuse he lit inside her.

“Let’s take a ride. I’ll wait for you in the truck.”

The last thing she wanted to do was get in that truck with him, but they were going to work together, so they had to get some things resolved. As she followed him out the door, she tried to reclaim her composure, but her paralyzed hands couldn’t grasp it and, as she climbed down the porch steps, the bridge of time collapsed, plunging her into freefall.

Images flew at her, immersing her in a tumult of sharp, vivid emotions.

The thrill of Fin unhinging the basement door she’d locked after he’d told her he couldn’t go to their junior prom because of his brother’s skiing competition. So much anger—no, outrage—expressed in a furious fight that had ended in desperate, raw sex.

The naughty pleasure of riding him in his truck, her fingers clutching the back of his seat, her hips slamming down and grinding. That wild imperative to get closer, deeper, to meld with him.

The boundless joy as they’d leapt off the cliff together, hands joined, her smile stretching so wide it felt stupid. Plummeting into ice cold water. And the indescribable happiness when they’d popped up and reached for each other—her legs wrapped around his waist, his arms cinching her tightly. She’d never felt anything like it since.

And the pure relief of slamming into the wall of Fin’s chest in the hallway after she’d found out Piglet, her little runt of a mutt, had been struck and killed by a minivan. The deep satisfaction, when she’d collapsed into his arms, of knowing her soul had a harbor, and it was Fin Bowie.

He’d been there for her more times than not, but the times he’d let her down stuck in her joints like burrs, reminding her with sharp twinges every time she so much as rolled over in bed.

Blocking out the good memories had been easy…until she’d come home. Here, they were everywhere. She breathed them in at night in her childhood bed, and she ate them for breakfast at the kitchen table.

Fortunately, when she closed the front door behind her, the cool mountain air rushed over her skin and snapped her back to the moment. The hints of sage from the surrounding meadow and smoke from the town’s nightly bonfire woke up her senses.

It was okay to remember. Important, actually, because she’d never resolved anything. She’d just thrown herself into work, into survival mode. Finals, projects, hurrying to the diner, the bar, racing to get errands done in stolen moments…all of it had kept her on the run.

She never would’ve stopped, would she? If Julian hadn’t dumped her, forcing her to live at home for the summer, she’d still be on the lam from a past that demanded reconciliation.

She’d take this ride with Fin, confront the memories, and then she could finally let them go. Let him go.

She’d finally be free.

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About Erika Kelly:

Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life–she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she’s lived in two countries and seven states, but give her pen and paper, a stack of good books, and a steaming mug of vanilla chai latte and she can make her home anywhere.

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COME A LITTLE CLOSER by Kim Karrr

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Join New York Times Bestselling Author Kim Karr on another emotional journey in her next release, Come A Little Closer, on March 28th!

What happens when bad meets good? Get ready to find out. Only this time the bad isn’t who you think it is. It was a one-night stand, until she forced him to change the rules.

Keep reading for an excerpt!

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Pre-order NOW!
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➜ Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nZl3F7
➜ B&N: http://bit.ly/2CbWBW0
➜ Amazon release alert: http://bit.ly/kimkarr_newsletter

ADD to your TBR → http://bit.ly/2EEHcPR

I haven’t always been this bad…

Up until recently, I was the kind of girl who wore white cotton panties and bent at the knees rather than the waist.

Pomp and circumstance changed all that.

Jaxson Cassidy was my first taste of bad, and I liked it more than I should have. Just not in the way I was meant to. I couldn’t help myself though. I found him irresistible. That sexy grin, those skilled fingers, and that dirty, dirty mouth were a lethal combination.

I wasn’t supposed to want him. I wasn’t supposed to let him put his hands on me. I wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things…but I did.

He wants to keep me close.
I should push him away.

He says he can help me.
I’m not so sure.

For some reason, he thinks there’s good left in me.
What if he’s wrong?

Everyone knows a good boy can’t turn a bad girl around.
Everyone knows it’s always the other way.
Everyone…except him.

Portrait of a romantic, young couple

EXCERPT:

Sadie

There was a dominance in his body language I couldn’t deny.

Heeding his invitation, I stopped before him. He stood and his towering height overwhelmed me, but when he pulled the empty barstool out and grinned at me, I felt electrically charged. “Hi.”

Slowly, I climbed onto it. For some reason, I couldn’t stop my knees from wobbling. “Hi,” I tried to respond, but it sounded more like a squeak.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I opened my mouth to say something more but found no words. Instead, my breath hissed out as a slow leak.

What was I doing?

I should have been running in the other direction. I didn’t have time for careless flirting. I had a job to do. One I knew I would never really be able to do.

Settling myself on the luxurious white leather stool, I crossed one leg over the other. As soon as I did, his heavy stare rolled over my face and then down my body. It felt like he was surveying every inch of me.

Suddenly, I wasn’t cold anymore. Heat roared through me like a fire being doused with gasoline.

The way he was looking at me was anything but subtle.

He was anything but subtle.

I didn’t care. I didn’t want subtle. I wanted bold.

A flash of thunder cut through the window, illuminating his face. His stunning features. Hard jaw. High cheekbones. Strong forehead. Full and curved mouth. Edible lips. And those eyes, they grabbed me and wouldn’t let go—like he saw the blackness inside me and wanted to add some light.

Ridiculous, I knew.

That smug grin he was wearing spread across his lips as he sat back down. The movement caused his dark hair to flip forward over his eyes. He pushed it away, and the gesture broke the trance I was in. Thick-lashed eyes shined as brilliant as the brightest lights I’d ever seen and amusement seemed to sparkle in their dark color.

All of a sudden I felt dizzy. Lost. Reborn. Taken back in time.

He was Eros.

I was Aphrodite.

He was Cupid.

I was Venus.

I let my bag drop to my feet beside my suitcase.

He twisted in my direction. “Crazy weather,” he said in a voice that was deep, cultured, sexy.

It made me shiver.

Half a nervous laugh snuck out of me. “You’re not kidding.”

Out of nowhere, the bartender set two heavy crystal glasses of amber-colored liquid in front of stock-photo guy and myself, and it shocked me. I hadn’t ordered anything, most especially not whiskey.

“Should I add this to your tab?” the bartender directed, and not toward me.

“Please,” stock-photo guy answered.

Embarrassment washed over me. He was with someone and I had misread him completely.

Hopping to my feet, I felt unsteady in my heels. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked if this seat was taken. I’ll get out of your way.”

Moving fast, he rose to his full height. He was close. So close. Floored by over six feet of hotness, his scent hit me immediately. Something manly, with a hint of the ocean. I took a moment to breathe it in and tried not to wince when the pain in my ribs struck.

His strong hands steadied my hips. “No, don’t leave. The drink is for you.”

And I felt. Felt his touch race down my hips, knot in my stomach, and make my toes curl.

If he was Cupid, I’d been struck by his arrow.

My gaze darted up, up, up, and when our eyes locked, my pulse started to race. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a flight,” I stupidly said.

He was a bad idea.

Staying was a bad idea.

This whole thing was a bad idea—and yet it already felt so good.

He dipped his head, those dark eyes going liquid with a heat I felt between my thighs. “In case you haven’t looked at the monitors, no one is going anywhere right now. All the planes are grounded until morning.”

I laughed, and it wasn’t an act. “I know that,” I replied. “What I meant was that drinking is a bad idea when I have such a long night ahead of me.”

His eyes flickered to my lips before returning to mine. “Exactly. It’s going to be a very long night, which is why drinking seems like a really good idea.”

No alarm bells rang. Instead, I smiled. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Sit,” he said, moving back to his stool.

For a moment I forgot everything and allowed myself to get lost in the darkest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Without thinking anything through, I sat back down. “Maybe just one.”

The look he gave me screamed sinful bad boy.

“Reading Hotlanta?” I asked, pointing to his bag.

With a shake of his head, he blew my comment off. “More like reading crap.”

Okay, I had no response to that, and luckily I didn’t need one.

He lifted his glass. “To passing time,” he toasted.

The way he looked at me when he spoke made my pulse jump and nipples pop. Ignoring my body’s reaction to him, I lifted my own. “To passing time,” I repeated, clinking his glass.

I didn’t really have time.

I had a job to do.

I couldn’t stay with him.

Could I?

I was stranded at the airport, after all.

I lowered my glass and sighed.

“Tough day?” he asked after taking more like a gulp of his whiskey.

“Yes,” I responded truthfully.

He took another long sip of his drink and let his eyes linger on my thighs. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

In that moment I was no longer Sarah, the lonely rich wife or the wandering mistress or the high-priced call girl I had been sent here to be. I wasn’t acting. I didn’t want to. I was just being me. Albeit, a well dressed-up version of myself, but still me.

Following his lead, I practically guzzled the potent liquor. Once I’d drained it, I figured why not talk. Setting my empty glass down, I told him, “I had to make a decision today and I have no idea if I made the right one.”

In truth, I already knew it was the wrong one.

Being here was wrong.

Being with him was wrong.

And yet, talking to him felt right.

I shouldn’t have come here to steal what wasn’t mine, no matter the reason. It wasn’t me. I didn’t earn what these men had. And I hated myself for even thinking about taking from them.

It was then I looked into his eyes and saw that very familiar feeling of loathing. Those dark eyes I thought had been filled with mirth were actually brooding.

What did he hate himself for?

I wanted to know.

Was I a way for him to forget? If so, did it matter? Either way, I wanted to be the one to ease his pain.

And I had no idea why.

He downed the rest of his glass and signaled the bartender. “You know,” he said, “sometimes I think the only way to get by in this world is to step off for a while.”

I glanced at his bags on the floor. “Is that what you’re doing? Stepping off for a while?”

The bartender placed the entire bottle of Macallan Rare Cask in front of us, and hot photo-guy picked it up right away. “Something like that,” he answered as he poured. “My ex-fiancée got married yesterday, and I was there.”

“Ouch,” I said.

He nodded and finished pouring. “Yeah, hence the heavy drinking. So what’s your story?”

It felt wrong to lie, so I didn’t. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. “I was recently fired.”

“Ouch,” he offered back with a wicked grin and set the bottle down to hold out his hand. That strong, confident, dominant hand. “I’m Sundance.”

I raised a brow. “As in Butch Cassidy?”

“The very same. It’s a nickname, actually.”

Sundance.

Hot name.

I liked it.

I took his offered hand, and the electric current that ran up my arm was stronger than the alcohol flowing through my veins. “Sarah.” The lie slipped out, and I couldn’t take it back. Then again, I didn’t think it really mattered. “And stepping off for a while sounds like a really good idea.”

He leaned closer and lifted his glass. “So, Sarah, what are we going to do to make that happen?”

My brow lifted curiously. “I’m open to suggestions,” I said, the alcohol taking over where reason should have stepped in.

He drained his drink. “Are you?”

The way those two words came out sounded like an invitation. I was in the middle of downing my glass when I lowered it. “Yes, I am. I mean, within reason, of course.”

“Good to know.” He tossed me a panty-melting grin and poured a little more into his glass.

“Why? What do you have in mind?” Ignoring my one-drink rule, I drank a little more, knowing exactly what he had in mind. It was written all over his face—in the way his eyes seemed to have turned the darkest shade of blue, the way his sinful mouth curved ever-so-much, and the way he leaned in even closer to me.

When he was a breath away, he raised the sexiest brow in answer. “We could take this somewhere a little more private.”

I smiled back. A silent, “Yes, I’m interested.”

“One rule,” he cautioned.

Now I raised the brow. “Rules already? I don’t even know you,” I joked.

“And that’s the way I like it,” he deadpanned.

In that moment I knew what he wanted.

To be anonymous.

To be free.

And to get fucked.

I wanted all of those things, too.

He went on. “We don’t talk about our lives,” he murmured, kissing behind my ear.

I allowed my head to lull back, silently agreeing to his rule because even though he couldn’t possibly know it was the only way I could be with him, it was.

His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of my throat, and I knew that somehow I had gone from the one doing the preying to the one being preyed on.

And I was okay with that.

Maybe stepping off for a while was exactly what I needed.

Portrait of a romantic, young couple

About the Author:

Reader * Chocolate Lover * Writer * Coffee Lover * Romantic * Beach Lover * Yoga Beginner

Kim Karr is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of eighteen novels. Best known for writing sexy contemporary love stories, she enjoys bringing flawed characters to life and creating romances that are page worthy. Her stories are raw, real, and explosive. Her characters will make you laugh, make you cry, make you feel. And her happily-ever-afters are always swoon worthy. From the brooding rock star to the arrogant millionaire to the Football Player. From the witty damsel-in-distress to the sassy high-powered businesswoman to the boutique owner. No two storylines are ever alike. If Kim’s not writing, you can find her wandering through antique stores with her husband, trying out new fitness classes with her sons, venturing out to new coffee shops with her daughter, or with her nose stuck in a book.

Link with Kim!

Website: http://www.authorkimkarr.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKimKarr
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Newsletter: http://bit.ly/kimkarr_newsletter

DEVIL IN TARTAN by Julia London

From New York Times bestselling author Julia London, comes DEVIL IN TARTAN—the fourth novel in her Highland Grooms Series!

DEVIL IN TARTAN is now available. Order your copy today!

DEVIL IN TARTAN Synopsis:

Lottie Livingstone bears the weight of an island on her shoulders. Under threat of losing their home, she and her clan take to the seas to sell a shipload of illegal whiskey. When an attack leaves them vulnerable, she transforms from a maiden daughter to a clever warrior. For survival, she orchestrates the siege of a rival’s ship and now holds the devilish Scottish captain Aulay Mackenzie under her command.

Tied, captive and forced to watch a stunning siren commandeer the Mackenzie ship, Aulay burns with the desire to seize control—of the ship and Lottie. He has resigned himself to a life of solitude on the open seas, but her beauty tantalizes him like nothing has before. As authorities and enemies close in, he is torn between surrendering her to justice and defending her from assailants. He’ll lose her forever, unless he’s willing to sacrifice the unimaginable…

Order DEVIL IN TARTAN here!

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My Review

When I was younger, I read historical romances all the time. But now, my tastes are a more contemporary romances. When I saw the opportunity to read Devil in Tartan, I was intrigued by the blurb. So, I read my first Julia London book. I was not disappointed. It’s a great story with powerful characters. Aulay and Lottie make an interesting duo, of course it takes a while for them to get there.

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Excerpt

She sank onto a chair, suddenly aware of the heaviness that pervaded every limb, exhaustion settling in. She crossed her arms on the table, lay her head down on them and closed her eyes…but visions of the day plagued her mind’s eye.

It was a catastrophe—there could be no other word that would adequately describe it. It had really begun a fortnight ago, in the early evening of Sankt Hans, the annual celebration of midsummer. The Livingstone clan had been preparing for a play, one written and produced by Duff. Duff fancied himself quite the actor, and he’d rallied a few members of the clan to join his theatrical troupe. There were six of them set to perform when they heard the warning horn from Old Donnie. He lived on the tip of the island just across the loch from Port Appin, and it was his job to sound the horn if anything or anyone should come to the island.

Everyone had frantically begun to gather up incriminating whisky jugs. “What of the play?” Duff had wailed unhappily.

It just so happened that Lottie’s horse, Stjerne, was still saddled from her participation in the pony races, and when she saw Norval and Bear Livingstone leap to their horses, she joined them. It was the way of things on Lismore—she was always in the thick of things.

She’d not been the least surprised to find Laird Campbell, his periwig tightly curled and overly powdered, skulking among the rabbits. It wasn’t his first attempt to find the stills. Naturally, Mr. Edwin MacColl, the chief of the clan who inhabited what the Livingstones considered to be the good side of their island, would accompany him.

Lottie had always liked Mr. MacCollas long as he stayed on his end of the island. He was a widower, his children grown and married with children of their own. He was older than Lottie’s father, but still had a broad chest and thick, snowy brows that slid up when he smiled wistfully at Lottie as he was wont to do.

But his visits to the north end had become all too frequent of late, and quite recently, he’d suggested to Bernt that Lottie might make him a good wife. “I’ve a nice house for her to keep, plenty of food for the table,” he’d suggested, apparently considering these two facts to be his better points of persuasion.

Lottie had not been surprised by the offer. Frankly, on an island where unmarried lassies were not plentiful, every man seemed to believe himself her perfect match, just as her mother had predicted, God rest her soul.

Her mother had warned Lottie of her allure to males. “You’re a beauty, lass, and men are drawn to beauty to their own detriment like moths to light, aye? You must no’ allow them to turn your head with bonny words and empty promises. You must be diligent in seeking the man who honors you for your heart and no’ your face, then, do you understand me? And beware your own father, lass—aye, he loves you, more than life, he does, but he’s easily persuaded by the promises of others.”

a Rafflecopter giveawayhttps://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.jsJulia London’s DEVIL IN TARTAN – Review & Excerpt Tour Schedule:

February 12thBehind Closed Doors Book Review – Review & Excerpt

Thoughts by Tash – Review & Excerpt

February 13thMy Nook, Books & More – Excerpt

Only One More Page – Review & Excerpt

February 14thFor The Love of Fictional Worlds – Review & Excerpt

Vagabonda Reads – Review

February 15thFeel the Book – Excerpt

What I’m Reading – Review & Excerpt

February 16thMiss Riki – Review & Excerpt

What Is That Book About – Excerpt

February 17thBookishly Yours – Review & Excerpt

Read more sleep less – Review & Excerpt

February 18thA Book Nerd, a Bookseller and a Bibliophile – Review

Sofia Loves Books – Review & Excerpt

February 19thBecky on Books – Review & Excerpt

Literary Gossip – Review & Excerpt

February 20thBookalicious Babes Blog – Review & Excerpt

Jen’s Reading Obsession – Excerpt

Reads All the Books – Review & Excerpt

February 21stBook Magic – Under a spell with every page – Review

Jax’s Book Magic – Excerpt

Mom’s Secret Book Blog – Review & Excerpt

February 22ndBooked All Night – Review & Excerpt

Devilishly Delicious Book Reviews – Review & Excerpt

Reading Between the Wines Book Club – Excerpt

February 23rdLove Notes Book Blog – Review & Excerpt

Ramblings From This Chick – Excerpt

Susan’s Books I Like – Review & Excerpt

About Julia London:

Julia London is the New York Times and USA TODAY best-selling author of more than thirty romantic fiction novels. She is the author of the popular Cabot Sisters historical romance series, including The Trouble with Honor, The Devil Takes a Bride, and The Scoundrel and the Debutante. She is also the author of several contemporary romances, including Homecoming Ranch, Return to Homecoming Ranch and The Perfect Homecoming. She has over 100,000+ Facebook followers, is the recipient of the RT Book Reviews for Best Historical Romance and a six-time finalist for the prestigious RITA award for excellence in romantic fiction. You can visit her website JuliaLondon.com. She lives in Austin, Texas.

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BAD BOY M.D. by Virna DePaul

Check out this excerpt for BAD BOY M.D. by Virna DePaul! Preorder and add it to your TBR today!
Title: Bad Boy M.D.
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Book Description:
It was only meant to be a dating app hookup. Turns out HeartBreaker531 isn’t an anonymous medical student after all—he’s my new chief resident…
As one of the top cardiac surgeons in the United States, Dr. Lauren Decker is fearless in the operating room, but her personal life is a different story. After her surgeon ex-husband cheated on her with a nurse half his age, Lauren has sworn off men—doctors, specifically. Never again.
But one day, the sexy and infuriatingly cocky Ryan Castle arrives. Looking to be the newest resident on staff, he challenges Lauren’s resolve to protect her heart. He’s gorgeous, ten years younger, a smartass at the top of his game, and soon, Lauren finds herself fighting fantasies of late-night trysts in the cardiology wing.
Like Lauren, Ryan’s been burned by love, but what starts out as an irresistible challenge to get Lauren into bed soon turns into more. She’s fighting what she feels by giving him the cold shoulder, and there’s only one thing to do.
Turn up the heat in the ER.
EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Lauren

It should have been easy: take a well-deserved vacation from my high-pressure job as a cardiac surgeon, check into my hotel in paradise, drink my weight in mai tais, and hook up with someone who would not only give me multiple orgasms but make me forget my cheating ex, the very reason I hadn’t had any orgasms—at least not the partner-induced kind—for over a year. Instead, I spent my vacation sleeping, swimming, and half-heartedly flirting with men at the pool, but in the end I hadn’t been able to sleep with any of them.

I tried.

I’d gotten close.

I told myself that it was all I needed to get rid of the odd restlessness that had been popping up more and more lately, the one that made me worry whether I was somehow losing my edge.

But one minute I’d be kissing a guy, enjoying him touching me, and the next thing I knew I’d remember Samuel’s betrayal, my mind and body would shut down, and I’d have to get away from him as fast as possible.

Vacation failure.

Now here I am back home, scheduled to return to work in two days, feeling like a pathetic horny loser. A loser who couldn’t even engage in a revenge fuck a year after Samuel cheated on me. Of course, it wasn’t as if I couldn’t try again tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but the thought of going to a bar, club, or hell, even the gym, to try again anytime soon made me want to hurl.

Which is why I was currently staring at the app my friend Bonnie installed on my phone after she picked me up at the airport, and I confessed I hadn’t done the horizontal mambo with anyone while in the Dominican Republic. I’d never done online dating. I met Samuel when we were both in medical school, and by the time we graduated, we were engaged. Too bad almost ten years of marriage hadn’t stopped him from cheating on me.

I was a damn doctor. A damn doctor who was almost forty years old. I’d planned to delete the app, but now…

I stared at the app’s pink heart logo.

So what if I hadn’t been able to pull the trigger while on vacation? I’m a modern, strong, independent woman. I have an amazing career that most people only dream about, and sure I’ve been in a funk, haven’t quite been myself, but what if Bonnie is right? What if all I need is one night—one night of hot, mind-blowing, fuck-my-brains-out sex with a random stranger—to get my groove back?

With a bracing breath, I rearranged the bed pillows, grabbed my glass of pinot grigio, took a big gulp, then clicked open the app.

A few minutes later, my profile and match preferences were up and running. My name of choice? Lana, because it started with an L like Lauren, and let’s be real, sounded ten times sexier. I used a photo Bonnie had taken of me in short shorts and a tank top, wearing a ball cap, only the lower half of my face visible. The photo gave me a flirty, mysterious air. I input what I was looking for: male, age 25-45, distance fifteen miles.

No sense in beating around the bush, and while I’d never considered hooking up with a guy who was younger than me, in this case, the more energetic the better. If I was going to break loose for a night, I might as well get the most out of it that I could.

Photos of eligible candidates began filtering onto my phone screen. Some guys seemed decent enough, while others were beefcakes who’d uploaded bathroom shots of their abs. Pass. Other guys’ profiles screamed bitter—“I want a woman who’s honest and isn’t into drama.”

I swiped right on a few of the decent ones, my initial nervousness quickly changing into exasperation. Then boredom. Then the sad realization that my choices were limited. Where were all the hot men when a girl wanted to hook up?

A message popped into my inbox, startling me so much I almost dropped my phone. Clicking it open, I read: hey. Nothing else. I rolled my eyes, deleted the message, and kept swiping, refilling my wine glass (I’d brought the bottle to bed with me) from time to time.

A few more messages:

Hi there your hot
Ugh, I know it’s just sex, but he has to know the difference between your and you’re.

Wanna get a drink?
You like peanut butter? I’d love to eat peanut butter with you. ☺
Okay, enough of this.

Just as I was about to hit the button to lock out my phone, however, his face popped up.

Like something out of a steamy romance novel meets Greek god myth, his picture alone was enough to send my pulse racing. He was shirtless, but all you could see were the tops of his pecs—wet, dripping pecs—as he rose from crystal blue waters similar to those in the tropical paradise of sun, sand and waves I’d just left. This was no beefcake taking photos of himself in his tiny bathroom in depressing, muted light. This guy was model material. In fact, he seemed too perfect, and I wondered if he’d used a fake pic. His image got even better as I worked my way up, with that gorgeous, muscular chest sprinkled with a hint of hair connected to an exquisite neck.

But when I got to his face, the deal was nearly sealed.

I sighed in appreciation. His chin was classic and square, the perfect shape and size to compliment his chiseled cheekbones. His skin was just dark enough to make you wonder whether it was tan or naturally olive, and he had tousled brown hair that looked silky soft. The real focal point, though, were his piercing ocean-green eyes, probably a trick of light and water. The way he stared right into the camera made me suddenly wish for a career as a photographer, lifeguard, or hell, even a hermit crab, for that matter. I’d scuttle across the sand just to pinch his big toe. Anything that got me in the path of that intense gaze for a night.

I had to laugh out loud. Talk about desperate! One photo of a hot twenty-something and I was salivating like a dog after a bone. I really did need to get laid, otherwise I might attack the next available guy I encountered, even if it was peanut butter man from the previous message.

Username: HeartBreaker531

About me: I’m more interested in fixing hearts than breaking them, which is why I’m in medical school (you can call me doctor). I like surfing, Thai food, and dogs. I basically go to school and sleep, but if you’re looking for something fast and casual, hit me up.

Both vague and quite specific, setting the parameters of what he was looking for without coming off as a total ass. I appreciated his honesty regarding why he was using the app, and the fact he was in medical school and had an interest in “fixing hearts,” (or at least had the creativity and balls to fake that he was) also earned him points in my book.

I swiped right instantly and waited. And waited. I got up to pee, came back, and waited to see if he swiped right too. To my disappointment, he didn’t, and that didn’t change over the next half hour. Gah, I’m pathetic, I thought. I was about to turn in for the night when I got the notification: HeartBreaker531 likes you!

Pathetic or not, my pulse sped up again. I opened the message screen.

Nerves in my throat, I decided to go with flirty, but short. I was just at the ocean. Too bad I didn’t see you there. Would’ve been a game changer.

I waited in anticipation, staring at my screen for nearly a minute before laughing at myself. Like he was going to message back that quickly! I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone away. I needed to go to sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and a clearer head was probably needed before jumping into the one night-stand territory anyway.

Just as I closed my eyes my phone dinged with a notification. I brought the phone closer and unlocked the screen only to find a message waiting for me from HeartBreaker531 himself.

Hey there gorgeous. Wish I’d seen you at the beach too. Game changer?
I hesitated. Told myself it was too late, too flirty, too much. This was a bad idea. I had no idea who he was. He could be some creep living in his mom’s basement, fingers stained with Cheetos dust.

Only somehow I couldn’t stop myself, because what if he was real? What if this gorgeous man was truly interested in me and could serve my purpose? My simple, shallow, selfish purpose, but a purpose nonetheless?

Taking a chance, my fingers moved as I settled back into my overstuffed pillows.

Hi back
OH GOD, what had I done?!

Hi back? Was that really the best I could come up with?

What was I, sixteen years old again? I was a grown woman for goodness sake. Not some awkward teenager talking to her first real crush.

“Smooth, Lauren, smooth,” I grumbled to myself. I rushed to add another line of reply before mystery man ran for the hills.

Yes, game changer, I typed. Seeing you would’ve changed everything about my trip. I certainly wouldn’t have slept alone.

Holy crap, did I really say that? I was full-on flirting with HeartBreaker531. My fingers tingled with anticipation. How would he respond?

Actually, you wouldn’t have slept at all. 
My heart raced. I smiled. It’s not like I’d never flirted before, but it’d been a long time. I’d forgotten how fun it could be. I had to keep going.

I would apologize for keeping you UP this time of night, but the mental image I have of you in that condition is too good. I’m unrepentant.
I was getting better at this. Sexy word play was a good move, and I even managed to work in a multi-syllabic phrase this time.

The phone politely buzzed, alerting me to his reply.

If I’m UP, then what are you? 😉

Ready. 😉

For a moment, I heard nothing back. Crap, had I scared him away with my blunt directness? Was I overdoing the confident woman thing? But then, his reply arrived:

I like that. What are you wearing, Lana?
For a moment, I wondered who the fuck Lana was. Then, I remembered it was my chat name! And apparently, things had quickly escalated and we were moments away from chat sex.

It was now or never. Did I want a meaningless tryst or not?

Gulping down another swish of wine, I looked down at my heather grey sleep pants and worn-in, navy blue t-shirt that was one of my favorites to sleep in. Not exactly va-va-voom.

I knew suddenly that no matter how handsome and sexy he was, no matter how daring I was currently acting, I would never meet him somewhere. Chat sex was as far as it would go.

It would be perfect actually. Harmless. No strings attached, no foul. It’s all good, Lauren, you nervous little minx.

Putting the phone down on the covers, I quickly slid off my pajama pants and then just as quickly dispersed with my top, leaving me sitting nearly naked, exchanging messages with a strange man over a dating app. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Picking up my phone I tapped out my message and hit send with anticipation.

Why should I tell you? I teased.

His reply was quicker this time.

I promise I’ll make it worth your while.
I raised my eyebrows. Cocky, for sure, which only made him sexier.

I’m wearing black panties…and nothing else.
Nice. What kind of material?
Silk with lace around the edges and on the butt.
Touch yourself, Lana.
I hesitated. He’d used my chat name again, and it suddenly made me second guess what I was doing. Was I really going to do this? HeartBreaker531 could be some weird creeper. Or a stalker, or married, or or or…

“Stop it, Lauren. Grow up and let loose a little,” I told myself.

It wasn’t like I was ever going to meet this guy in person. He was probably using a fake picture, and so what? It was all for fun fantasy anyway. Wasn’t the end of the world. He probably thought my photo was fake, too. Come to think of it, I probably should have picked an image from some super model bikini shoot of someone with less hips and longer legs.

Screw it.

What did I have to lose? I’d had a hell of a year, and soon I’d be back to my professional, hard-working, life-saving self. That settled that then—I was all in.

I held the phone with one hand, while dragging the other slowly down my torso, over my stomach and onto the minimal waistband of my low-rise bikinis. Good thing I had lots of experience typing with one hand while juggling medical charts with another.

Are you touching yourself now? he asked.

Yes.
Tell me how it feels.
I imagined he had a bit of a rasp to his voice, probably a baritone, yes, most definitely a baritone, and the question would have rolled over his tongue like whiskey, smooth on the ear initially, but with a follow-up shudder once the impact hit you.

Soft, smooth, warm…wet.
Whoa, bolder. I gave myself an internal pat on the back for that one.

Touch yourself like I would touch you.
Dear God. That sent a spike through me. Inhibitions melted away in the relative safety of my perceived anonymity, and I lowered my hand further, applying just the smallest amount of tantalizing pressure. The material was slick, the skin underneath getting slicker by the moment.

Can you feel how hot you are for me already through your panties? he messaged.

My touch felt electric and I slowly, leisurely moved my hand up and down over the slick material, leaving tingling tightness in its wake. This felt way better than masturbating by myself.

I closed my eyes as I continued sliding my hand leisurely, side to side, up and down. Was he turned on by this as much as I was? Was he stroking himself through his jeans? He was definitely wearing jeans and nothing else, I had decided. Open buttoned jeans pulled down to reveal his hard thickness.

Emboldened, I used my free hand to tap out another question. Are you touching yourself?

I imagined him biting his lip. In my mind he definitely bit his lip.

I wasn’t planning on it, but I am now.
My mystery Adonis had a sense of humor. My insides clenched a little tighter.

How does it feel?
Hard, very hard. And hot. It feels good, but not as good as if you were stroking me.
Oh, man. I was way, way in. I imagined him sitting alone in a hotel room, godlike body roped with smooth muscles, stroking his rock hard cock while thinking of me in my black silk panties. The mental image alone was almost enough to make me get off.

Put your hand inside your panties, Lana. Rub yourself for me.
Bossy. I could get on board with that.

Shifting positions for a better angle, I slipped my hand under the waistband, working my fingers slowly over my mound, pausing briefly on the cliff edge near my clit and then working further down. I hovered over my opening.

Another message from him: Do it.

It was like he was in the room, watching me. The thought of this sexy beast of a man watching me touch myself at his command had an audible groan escaping my lips. I dipped a finger just barely inside myself, confirming how wet this little verbal back and forth made me. I was willing to bet everything I owned that his groan was as sexy as I was imagining. Eyes closed, low and guttural.

Tell me how much you wish I was there with you right now.
I do. I wish you were here to feel this, I typed.

I could tease you, in and out all night long, Lana. My thumb rubbing over the head of my cock wouldn’t feel as good as rubbing it against your clit.
He was going to be the death of me, and with only a few dirty words. Pushing my fingers in a little further, I began working myself in earnest, feeling how slick this unlikely encounter was making me. I used my other hand to tease out another message for him.

I can feel your hard cock inside me.

That’s right. Imagine me inside you, filling you up.

Filling me up. YES. It was impossible, insane even, but I was getting close. That tingling, clenching sensation deep in my core was turning into a raging inferno. Was he stroking himself in time to mine? Did he want his fingers inside my pussy, closing his eyes to imagine it?

That’s it gorgeous, work those fingers in and out, faster now, a little harder. Those tiny fingers couldn’t possibly fill you up like I would. You know it’s just a taste.
My fingers flew in and out faster now, slicker than ever before. The heat was coiling tight, I was so ready. I needed a release. Needed to feel him deep inside me, rubbing his hard chest against my soft breasts, thrusting deep up into me with every move of his gorgeous hips.

Oh my God.

Yes, do it, Lana.

I could see his beautiful body now, with those striking eyes, that unruly hair tumbling ever so slightly onto his face. It was too much and not enough, all at once.

My insides clenched as my fingers worked over my most sensitive parts, stroking myself to an explosive, breath-stealing orgasm. My back arched as every muscle in my body tensed up at once, letting the warm, electric sensations roll through me. I collapsed back onto the covers in a state of incoherent bliss, resting my mind and body while I caught my breath. Remnants of my orgasm were still pulsing through my body as I heard the phone ding from my side where I had dropped it in the midst of ecstasy. I picked it up, eyes already half drooping in my newly relaxed state.

I want to see you.
Instantly, my fuzzy, post-orgasmic bliss brain got back into high gear. A little sexting with a random stranger was one thing, but a hook-up after this? Meeting with someone in person, after what he…I… had done? What had I been thinking? No, no way. Just no.

I had a career, a reputation. What if someone found out? What if he was really some creep in his mom’s basement? What if he looked exactly as gorgeous as his avatar and he had an ego to match?

My phone dinged again.

How about tomorrow night?
I paused, fingers hovering yet again. This wasn’t my game. I was older, more sensible, a big girl with big girl responsibilities, not some twenty-something who could play hook-up with random men for a bit of weekend fun. I had worked too damn hard to get where I was, crawled from the bottom up out of that hellhole, secured my place among the best of the best.

With a decisive stroke I went to settings, and the damn thing asked me if I was really, really sure I wanted to delete all of my information, contacts, pictures and conversations, etc. Yeah, I was sure! I deleted it immediately, and the app icon quickly disappeared, along with HeartBreaker531.

I had a moment of regret, but only a moment. Easy come, easy go.

Plugging my phone into the charger, I settled into bed for the second time that night. As my head hit the pillow and the remnant intoxication of both alcohol and sexual release forced my eyelids closed, I summoned up a mental image of Sexy HeartBreaker Adonis’s picture in my head one more time. As I succumbed to sleep my last thoughts were muddled reassurance—he wasn’t really the first man in over a year to make me come…I did it myself with just a little help. He was no one I needed. No one I wanted. We had fun but now it was business as usual.

Goodbye, Lana, woman-who-obviously-needed-some-so-was-willing-to-hook-up-with-a-hottie-even-if-it-was-only-through-a-dating-app.

Hello, Dr. Lauren Decker, woman-who-got-that-out-of-her-system-and-is-now-ready-to-focus-on-her-career-and-never-let-a-man-screw-her-over-again.

About the author:

Virna DePaul is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, and a former criminal prosecutor who writes thrilling, sexy stories about ordinary people overcoming extraordinary obstacles to find love. She has been traditionally published with Penguin, Harlequin, and Random House, and is also a bestselling Indie author.

Website: www.virnadepaul.com
Email: virna@virnadepaul.com