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Category: Chapter reveal
Chapter Reveal….Waiting For My Queen by Georgia Cates
🔥🔥 CHAPTER REVEAL 🔥🔥
Are you dying to get your hands on Waiting for my Queen by Georgia Cates?! You are in for a treat. We have a chapter reveal to hold you over until release day, March 3rd!
BLURB
Emilia—
All I’ve ever wanted was to marry for love.
But girls like me don’t have that luxury.
We are used as pawns in a game we can’t control.
The game? It’s called Mafia.
I was foolish enough to try to change the rules… and I lost.
Luca—
She was promised to me years ago.
And he dared to take her from me.
Dared to touch what was mine.
I put an end to that.
I hope he’s enjoying the view from his dirt room.
Emilia—
My beloved’s killer placed a ruby ring on my finger and called me his queen.
But that red gem symbolizes something different for me.
It represents the blood shed by those I love most.
Hell was empty the day we wed.
Because the devil was standing before me and said “I do.”
Luca—
I saw her as a possession.
A shiny toy I didn’t want other boys to play with.
But she’s so much more.
Beautiful and brave and strong and broken all at once.
She tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted.
Emilia—
Hidden and patient.
I wait for the perfect time to seek my revenge.
But slowly, I feel him possessing me.
His heart is full of darkness… and I still want every inch of him.
Hard as I try, I can’t escape loving this beautiful monster.
Luca—
I’m waiting patiently because I already know that she’s mine.
Mine in a way that no one will ever understand.
Even if she hasn’t yet realized it.
For love, I’d do anything.
For her, I’d do everything.
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CHAPTER REVEAL
Chapter 5
Luca Rossini
New York, 1978
My father’s consigliere, Arrigo, also known as his right-hand man, comes into our conference room where we’re sitting around the table. He’s one of the few people without the last name Rossini who are allowed into this room.
“The Bellini women have arrived. They’re waiting for you in the living room.”
My father goes to the wet bar and chuckles as he pours six glasses of whiskey. “They came. You know what this means, don’t you?”
“It means they have no allies willing to go to battle for them. They’re out of options,” my brother Stephan says.
“Exactly. And that means we’ve won the war. The Bellini assets are ours.”
And Emilia Bellini is finally mine.
Everyone takes a glass of whiskey, even my youngest brother Enzo who is only sixteen.
“You should be the one to lead us in this toast, Luca. This is your victory.”
I didn’t do this alone. It began with my grandfather’s foresight so many years ago. “From long ago until now, here’s to all of the decisions that led us to this place.”
“But mostly your clever decisions, son. Your bravery,” my father says.
We click our glasses together and toss back the whiskey. Enzo coughs and sputters much like I did the first time I had a shot of whiskey.
“Such a mamma’s boy.” Dante loves ragging on Enzo.
I place my hand on top of my baby brother’s head and muss up his hair. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle your liquor?”
“I can handle it. It just went down the wrong way.”
“Sure, it did, little bro.”
I was younger than Enzo when I had my first shot of whiskey. I still remember the way it burned on the way down. I also remember pretending that I could handle it although I wasn’t certain that someone hadn’t swapped the liquor out with lighter fluid.
My father slams his glass on the table. “Come on, boys. Time to collect our spoils of war.”
This moment has been a long time coming. As I walk to where the women are waiting, it suddenly doesn’t feel real to me. I’m so accustomed to delays that I find myself wondering what the next one will be. But I remind myself that we’re in charge now, and there’ll be no more excuses. Emilia is going home with me tonight.
The six Bellini women are seated when we enter the living room, and my eyes bounce back and forth between the daughters seated on each side of their mother. Both are beauties and very similar, but one is much lovelier than the other. I can’t decide which one is Emilia because it’s been too many years since I’ve seen her.
“Welcome to our home,” my mother says as she comes into the room.
Sofia smiles, but the hostility in her expression isn’t disguised. I don’t fault her for that, though. We’ve earned her hatred a hundred times over.
“Your home is as lovely as I remember it.” Her tone is ice cold.
“How long has it been since you were last here?”
“Many, many years.”
“That’s a shame. Looking back on it now, you and I should have spent more time together and raised the children to know each other. Perhaps things would have gone differently if we had.”
“Perhaps.”
I focus my attention on the girl sitting to Sofia’s left. The more beautiful one. The older-looking one. The more frightened-looking one with tears pooling in her lower lids.
Dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders and down her arms, the ends nuzzling against her bare skin like a frightened child clinging to its mother. Almond-shaped deep-caramel eyes surrounded by lush dark lashes. A few scattered freckles across the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose. Plump, glossy coral lips.
In my wildest dreams, my betrothed didn’t grow up to be this beautiful. And it annoys the hell out of me because I don’t want to be attracted to her.
I want to make her suffer.
Sofia Bellini grips the hand of the girl in question. “Please, Marco. Swear to me on your honor that my daughter will be safe with you.”
My father chuckles. “Emilia is going to give us babies, heirs to the Rossini empire. There is no safer place for her than with our family. You know that.”
Sofia and the girl beside her, my Emilia, embrace one another and sob. Her grandmother and sisters cluster around her, doing the same. It’s pathetic. I would have expected less of a display from Bellinis. Certainly not this spectacle.
My betrothed has weaknesses. Those will need to be eliminated before she influences our sons with that nonsense.
“That’s more than enough of that,” I tell them.
She lifts her chin, and her eyes meet mine for the first time. Inside those deep-caramel orbs, I see something I like very much: rage. There during one heartbeat and gone the next, it was only a fleeting flash. But I saw it and I don’t mistake it for what it is.
This girl is going to be so much fun to break.
“Come, Emilia. I’m ready to take you home.”
“She won’t be living here?” the grandmother asks.
“I have my own home. She’ll live there with me.”
“You didn’t mention anything about her living outside of the Rossini compound.”
“I don’t think we’re obligated to tell you anything more than we wish to tell you, Sofia. In case you’ve forgotten, we have full control,” my father says.
Soft murmurs pass back and forth between Emilia and her mother, and I’m unable to decipher what they’re saying. And it pisses me off.
Reaching for her upper arm, I tug. “That’ll be all of that.”
When she’s on her feet, I realize just how small she is. A dainty little princess to break. That’ll be fun.
“Where’s your suitcase?”
“The foyer.”
“We’ll pick it up on the way out.”
There’s an overlapping of goodbyes and I-love-yous as Emilia and I leave, but her mother’s voice bleeds through the noise. “When will I see her again?”
It’s never been my intention to keep Emilia from her family. I see no value in separating them, but that’s something I’ll keep to myself for now.
Continuing to walk forward, I don’t look back. “You’ll see her when I decide I want you to see her.”
I’m pleased when I manage to get her into the back seat of my car without a bunch of carrying on.
“Where to?” Sal asks.
“Home.”
“Yes, sir.”
During the drive to my house, I don’t say a word to Emilia. I want her fear to escalate to the highest level possible. And I believe I’m successful as I listen to the sound of her rapid, unsteady breath filtering through the silence.
She takes a final deep breath and blows it out slowly through pursed lips when Sal parks the car inside the garage. I’d love to know what’s going through that mind of hers right now.
“Welcome home, Emilia.”
No response from her.
No surprise from me.
I fetch her suitcase from the trunk, and she follows me through the house as I lead her upstairs to the bedroom. Our bedroom. “You’ll get the full tour tomorrow. Right now, you and I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“What kind of loose ends?”
“You’ll see.”
I place her suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed and point at the door to our left. “That’s the bathroom. There’s a pregnancy test waiting for you on the vanity. When you’ve finished, show me the results.”
“I don’t know how to take a pregnancy test.”
“You can read, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can.”
“Follow the directions on the box.”
“Why are you making me do this?”
“I have to be certain that you aren’t pregnant with Moretti’s bastard.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Then take the test and prove it.”
“Fine.”
There it is again. That flash of anger in her eyes.
That’s it. Come out, angry princess. I want to play with you.
She marches into the bathroom and shuts the door with a firm thud. A brave little princess she is to do that under my roof.
Several minutes tick by and she emerges from the bathroom. “The directions say it takes two hours for the results to appear.”
“I’m aware.”
Two hours. What shall we do while we wait?
She crosses her arms, looking around my bedroom. Avoiding my eyes.
“Come and sit next to me. I won’t bite… unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
“I’m not asking.” I pat the bed. “Sit beside me.”
She does as I tell her, but the scowl on her face lets me know that she isn’t pleased about it. “Happy?”
“No.”
“You’ve gotten everything you wanted. What do you have to be unhappy about?”
“Our union should have been a joyous occasion. A beautiful wedding where our friends and families came together to celebrate our marriage.”
“A marriage between us was never going to be a joyous occasion.”
“It could have been, but you chose to make things difficult and unpleasant. That means I was forced to do things I would have preferred to avoid.”
“I know the specifics of how you murdered Nic. You took pleasure in what you did to him.”
“Yes. I rather enjoyed it.”
“Only someone evil could admit that.”
I expected her to bring up Moretti sooner or later, but hearing his name on her lips pisses me off more than I anticipated.
“Would you like to know what his last words were?”
She looks at me a moment before answering. “No.”
“You really don’t want to know what your beloved boy said to me while he was lying there in a pool of his own blood dying?”
“I doubt anything you tell me would be the truth. And I know what Nic’s last words were to me. Those are the ones that I’ll always hold dear inside my heart.”
There’s my confirmation. Marrying Moretti wasn’t about not marrying me. She truly loved him.
“Suit yourself. If you can live without knowing what he said about you, then I can live without telling you.”
“I can live with it. The question is how do you live with yourself after brutally taking the life of an innocent man?”
“Moretti wasn’t innocent. He tried to take what belonged to me.”
“Contrary to what you may believe, I have never belonged to you.”
“We were promised to each other by our grandfathers. Betrothed. I was told my entire life that you were to be my wife.”
“It’s 1978. A betrothal between us when we were children should never have happened.”
“But it did happen. And you will always belong to me whether you like it or not.”
One of her brows lifts. “Unless that pregnancy test proves that I’m carrying Nic’s baby? You won’t have me then, will you?”
I had hoped that Emilia’s Catholic faith, or maybe Nicolò’s fear of Alessandro, had persuaded them to not have sex. I see now that any hope I had was in vain.
The thought of Moretti putting his filthy, inferior hands on my betrothed enrages me. But what’s even worse is that she let him. She wanted him to touch her and he did. Now, she could be pregnant.
I can’t handle it.
I’m so pissed off that I don’t trust myself to be in the same room with her right now.
I get up with the intentions of leaving, but I stop when I hear Emilia’s low chuckle. Moving to stand in front of her, I lean down until we’re so close that I have to blink a few times to focus on her eyes.
She doesn’t blink.
She doesn’t cower.
She stares right back at me.
“I’m going to do you a kindness, which is very out of character for me, and I’m going to leave this room. While I’m gone, I’d suggest that you get on those little Catholic knees of yours and pray very hard that the pregnancy test you just took is negative. Or we’re going to have a huge problem on our hands.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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
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Cover Reveal….Angry God by L.J. Shen
“A top 2020 read hands down.”
–Helena Hunting, New York Times bestselling author
Angry God, an all-new angst-filled new adult standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen, is coming February 18th and we have the smoking hot cover!
Vaughn Spencer.
They call him an angry god.
To me, he is nothing but a heartless prince.
His parents rule this town, its police, every citizen and boutique on Main Street.
All I own is a nice, juicy grudge against him for that time he almost killed me.
Between hooking up with a different girl every weekend, breaking hearts, noses and rules, Vaughn also finds the time to bully little ole’ me.
I fight back, tooth and nail, never expecting him to chase me across the ocean after we graduate high school.
But here he is, living with me in a dark, looming castle on the outskirts of London.
A fellow intern. A prodigal sculptor. A bloody genius.
They say this place is haunted, and it is.
Carlisle Castle hides two of our most awful secrets.
Vaughn thinks he can kill the ghosts of his past, but what he doesn’t know? It’s my heart he’s slaying.
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Cover designed by: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
Model: Emilio Flores
About LJ Shen
L.J. Shen is a USA Today, Washington Post and Amazon #1 best-selling author of contemporary, New Adult and YA romance. Her books have been sold to nineteen different countries.
She lives in California with her husband, son, cat and eccentric fashion choices, and enjoys good wine, bad reality TV shows and catching sun rays with her lazy cat.
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Release Day Blitz….Best I’ve Ever Had by Abbi Glines
Summer had returned to the coastal town of Sea Breeze, Alabama. The nightlife lit up with scantily clad sun-kissed bodies, live music, the smell of freshly cooked seafood.
Taking it all in he wondered if coming back had been the best thing. He wasn’t the same man who had driven out of town a year ago on the motorcycle he’d spontaneously bought after his best friend’s wedding. From the messy blond curls he’d let grow out to the tattoos now covering his arms, part of his chest and even the side of his neck, it all represented a part of his journey.
Eli Hardy was back, but he didn’t plan on staying for long.
Read the First Chapter HERE!
I managed a bright smile that was so fake it was ridiculous to the other three standing there then turned on my heels and made my way to the French doors overlooking the gulf. Before I reached the exit, Eli moved in front of me and opened a door then stood back so I could go outside. There was the guy I remembered. The gentleman everyone loved. But as quickly as he appeared with the opening of the door, it was gone. No smile. No thank you for the rescue. Not even silent eye contact.
I slid off my heels and left them at the top of the stairs then headed down toward the sand below barefoot. The breeze was warm, so my arms weren’t chilled. Summer wasn’t officially here until the solstice, but in South Alabama, it had most definitely arrived.
The moon was full and walking beside Eli in the silence felt nice. There was no need to talk if he didn’t want to. We’d done that already. I hadn’t gotten him out here to talk anyway. I was tired of talking today. I’d done more than I usually did. Besides, Eli had little to say. No need to force him to speak.
The house was just a light in the distance when he finally spoke.
“Why did you do that?” he asked.
I lifted a shoulder to give a half shrug. Still no thank you. Not even the sound of gratitude. “You looked like you needed an escape.”
“I did,” he agreed.
“I was headed upstairs to escape myself. But I couldn’t ignore my hero mentality and let a poor guy get eaten alive by angry females.”
“Hmmm,” was his only response. What did that mean? And why did it have to sound so raspy and sexy? I should be annoyed by his lack of response. Not turned on by a deep husky rumble.
Back off Ophelia. Don’t go there. You already discussed this with yourself. He is off limits. Girl code unscripted or some shit. “I owe you one.” His voice and words surprising me. That was as close to a thank you I was going to get, but I’d take it. Besides if he was gushing over me and appreciative would I be as attracted to him? I knew that answer and I was going to pretend I didn’t. It made me sound shallow. I hated shallow. Needing to get out of my own head, I decided I’d do the small talk thing. Or attempt it with him.
“No, I think we are even now. I owed you one,” I told him. I felt his gaze on me then. Meeting that gaze was a stupid idea.
Enter Abbi’s Giveaway HERE!
Join Abbi’s Release Party HERE! April 16 from
10 AM – 10 PM EST with over 40 Authors & Bloggers!
Abbi Glines is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Rosemary Beach, Sea Breeze, Vincent Boys, Field Party and Existence series. She never cooks unless baking during the Christmas holiday counts. She believes in ghosts and has a habit of asking people if their house is haunted before she goes in it. She drinks afternoon tea because she wants to be British but alas she was born in Alabama. When asked how many books she has written she has to stop and count on her fingers. When she’s not locked away writing, she is reading, shopping (major shoe and purse addiction), sneaking off to the movies alone, and listening to the drama in her teenagers lives while making mental notes on the good stuff to use later. Don’t judge.
You can connect with Abbi online in several different ways. She uses social media to procrastinate.
Release Day Blitz & Review…..The Cursed Series: Parts 1 & 2 by Rebecca Donovan
Instead of serving time in juvie, Lana is sentenced to a boarding school for privileged teens. Removed from everyone she knows and cares about, she’s abandoned at Blackwood School in Vermont, where everything is an illusion, including the lives of those who attend the elite institution. Lana isn’t wealthy or privileged. The only thing she has in common with the sons and daughters of celebrities and politicians is that she’s a delinquent, just like them. And they’ve all been forced to grow up much too fast.
Just when Lana begins to feel accepted, mysterious notes start showing up in her belongings and ominous threats are painted on her wall. Only someone she knows could have done it. Someone she thought was a friend. As the pieces fall into place, secrets begin to emerge, leaving Lana with too many questions and not enough people to trust.
The Cursed Series is a thrilling and tangled mystery that explores the sacrifice of love and the secrets kept to protect friends. How do you know who to trust when no one is telling the truth?
HOT DAMN – This book was AMAZING!!! I CANNOT wait for the next book to release with parts 3 &4.
Part 1 is more of a novella and sets the stage for Part 2 and the next book (Parts 3 & 4). I loved every single bit of this book and was truly surprised by easily I could visualize everything.
The Cursed Series is definitely geared more toward YA age of 16+ because of scenes and topics that are brought up. One thing that I feel the need to point out is that 16 year olds in different situations and life styles react and do things differently. When you read the book – you will see what I mean.
Rebecca brought out so many emotions in this book. I loved how everything felt so real and like it was playing out before my eyes. Rebecca’s writing truly comes to life right off the pages. The character are real and so raw with their emotions and their actions.
And then there is the suspense – OMG!! Love the suspense that is slowly building in this book. I love the unknown surrounding Lana and how all these characters intertwine with one another. I love every characters because they all are equally important and bring so much to this book. I still have so many unanswered questions and I really need to know where this all ends.
Rebecca has written a fascinating and page-turning YA Romantic Suspense that everyone will love. I devoured this book within one day and that’s with working 8hrs plus doing all the other motherly and wifely duties added in. I could not put this book down – as much as I did not want it to end, I had to know what was going on and where this story was going.
Bring on Parts 3 and 4, Pronto!!
http://bit.ly/FirstChapterTheCursedRD
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♦ ♦ ♦
Chapter Reveal…Fool Me Once by Nicole Williams
Second chances are for kids, diets, and shelter pets—not for relationships. Especially not one like Chase and Emma’s.
Before he was writing chart-topping hits and smashing record sales, Chase Lawson was Emma’s childhood friend and first love. They promised each other forever, but forever expired at eighteen, when he landed a major record deal and left Emma and their hometown behind.
Ten years later, he shows up at their high school reunion with a proposition she can’t refuse. Six months. Seven figures. He gets a chance to clean up his reputation, and she gets the means to restore the old family farmhouse. It’s only for show—hold hands in public, kiss for the cameras—but boundaries blur behind closed doors.
It isn’t long before Emma feels her resolve slipping, crushed by the shadow of the boy she grew to love in the man selling out stadiums of present. Can Emma resist one of the most irresistible bachelors in the world? Or will she fall for the same man twice?
Some things weren’t meant to be. That’s what I told myself for the thousandth time when I caught sight of my ex with his newest flame.
“You’re too good for him.”
“Way too good for him.”
My childhood friends, Brooke and Sophia, assured me as they circled in tighter.
“I don’t know why I decided to come to this thing,” I muttered before finishing what was left in my champagne glass.
“Maybe because a ten-year high school reunion only happens once in a lifetime?” Brooke spun me around so the happy couple wasn’t in view, while Sophia dashed off to grab another glass of champagne.
“You know what? A hysterectomy is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing too, but I’m not going to sign myself up just because.” I checked the time, my shoulders falling when I did. Barely an hour in and I already felt like this experience had extinguished whatever patience was left in my person.
“Just be thankful you didn’t waste any more time on a guy like that. Chalk it up to experience and move on.”
“And look at the line of men I have to move on with?” I motioned at the area in front of me; it was empty. “I should have been smart like you and Sophia and gotten married young to some nice, hard-working local boy.”
“Would you stop? You’re twenty-eight. It’s not like you’re horizontal and decaying,” Brooke put her hand on her hip, leveling me with a serious look.
“No. I’m decaying vertically”—I tapped the corners of my eyes, where I’d detected the early stages of crow’s feet earlier this summer—“practicing for my future as a cranky old spinster.”
“You girls talking about me behind my back again?” Sophia reappeared with a fresh glass of champagne, practically ramming it into my hand.
“Please. We prefer to direct our insults to your face.” I winked at Sophia as we clinked our glasses.
“That’s a sign of true friendship,” Brooke toasted before we all took a drink.
“Hey, ladies, this isn’t homeroom. Break it up and dance already.” Rob, Brooke’s husband, popped up beside us, ringing his arm around his wife’s neck.
“I hate this song.” My nose curled as I stayed planted in place.
The three of them headed toward the dance floor as Sophia made a face at me and said, “It was eleven years ago. Time to let it go, girl.”
Brady, her husband, joined her for a dance.
“Not likely,” I said under my breath, taking in the party from my spectator seat on the sidelines.
Almost everyone had made their way to the dance floor, singing at the tops of their lungs. I didn’t know how anyone could stand to hear this song after it had been played nonstop on the radio the past four months.
Jesse, another of my good friends, settled beside me. “Do you think he’s going to show?”
“There aren’t any cameras or fancy awards, so unlikely,” I grumbled.
“Ever since the accident, it seems like he’s been keeping a low profile anyway.” Jesse waved the bird at my ex, who was too busy lodging his tongue down his dance partner’s throat to notice. “I still can’t believe Chase was that drunk. I mean, blowing a point two isn’t for the faint of heart, and I don’t remember him drinking at a party even once when the rest of us were being rebellious teenagers.”
I rolled my eyes at my friend, who had this concerned expression as though Chase was the victim. “There was also the bit about him plowing his truck into a parked car and getting arrested.”
“Fame and money really ruin people.” Jesse clucked her tongue. “That’s why I’m so grateful to live paycheck to paycheck and have good friends who babysit for free at the drop of a hat.” Jesse nudged me. “Thank you again for last night. Johnny and I had a really nice night. Adult conversation, dinner that wasn’t some variation of mac n’ cheese, and I got to wear earrings without fear of having them ripped out by grabby baby hands.”
“They were perfect angels for me, as always.” I smiled at her. “And you’re welcome. Any time.”
“How are you?” Before I could even attempt to give the bullshit answer, Jesse added, “For real?”
“I’m okay. Learning to accept I might be happier alone than the alternative.” My eyes had wandered to a certain couple moving in such a way that made clothes seem pointless.
“You haven’t met the right one.”
“Because the right one isn’t out there.” I wound my arm around hers, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
My friends cared, and that’s why they felt the need to dissect my every relationship-gone-wrong, but the last thing I wanted to do was detail my failures in the romance department. Especially with three friends who were happily married and starting their own families.
“Of course he’s out there. You can’t give up hope.”
I lifted my glass. “In my fourteen years of dating, I’ve been cheated on, lied to, broken up with over a social media messenger, heartbroken, ditched for an eight-figure record deal, and proposed to by seven African princes.” My gaze dropped to my bare left ring finger. “I have just enough hope left to say yes to the next prince who asks for my hand.”
Jesse shook her head. “He’s out there. And when you agree to marry him, it better be me you call to be your maid of honor.”
“Deal.” I clinked my nearly empty glass to hers, which was already empty. “Whatcha drinking? My treat for the relationship counseling.”
“A screwdriver.” She handed me her glass. “Hold the alcohol.”
“Wait. What?” It took me two seconds of confusion before my eyes dropped to her stomach. “Number three?”
Jesse’s hand lowered to her stomach. “All four and a half months of him or her.”
My face lit up before I threw myself at her, winding my arms around her as much as I could with two glasses in my hands. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you guys.”
“Thanks, friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do with three in diapers, but I guess I’ll figure it out.”
“Are you kidding? You’ll more than figure it out. You are, like, the best mom ever.” I planted a kiss on her cheek before backing toward the bar. “I’m going to get some drinks to celebrate. Virgin screwdrivers coming right up.”
Jesse flashed a rock and roll symbol, biting her tongue. I chuckled before turning around so I didn’t run into someone or something. With the three glasses of champagne I had in my all of five-foot-four frame, it was an Easter miracle I was still upright.
I’d just made it to the bar when a chorus of cheers reverberated through the room. Jason Gallagher had probably stripped to his skivvies and was doing the moonwalk like he used to do every last day of school from the time we hit middle school.
But then I heard a familiar name being called out, practically chanted.
Good god, no. My luck wasn’t that bad.
Oh, wait.
Setting the empty glasses on the counter, I slowly turned around, praying I was mishearing the name still ringing through the reception room.
I saw him right away, as though my eyes were trained to find him in a crowded room. I hated that they still followed that habit.
There he was, Chase Lawson, the legend himself, sauntering into a high school reunion in the same small town he’d waved farewell to eleven years ago.
My stomach knotted as I scanned the nearest exits.
“What can I get you?” The bartender interrupted my mini panic attack.
“Um . . .” I tried to remember a simple drink order. It was difficult with two ex flames in the same crowded room. “Two screwdrivers.” I fumbled with the bills inside my leather clutch. “Two virgin screwdrivers.” I remembered right as he was about to pour in the vodka.
“So two orange juices?” He gave me a look that suggested I was even more unhinged than I thought. He shook his head when I held out a twenty. “On the house.”
“Thanks.”
I grabbed my OJs and hugged the perimeter as I made my way back to where I’d left Jesse. Except she’d been pulled onto the dance floor by her husband and was way too close to Chase and his ever-present following of fawning females for my comfort. Making a last-minute decision, I ducked through the half-open door leading outside.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come,” I said to myself before taking a sip of one of the orange juices. It wasn’t like I’d had to travel or rent a hotel—Jericho High was a whole four miles from my family’s farm—but I doubted I’d feel more inconvenienced if they’d held it on some iceberg in the Arctic.
Following the walkway toward the small pond tucked behind the reception hall, I settled onto the first bench I came across. My feet were killing me thanks to the weapons of torture I’d selected for tonight. My feet were used to boots, not four-inch strappy heels. But according to Sophia, our town’s resident fashion maven, the royal blue heels were exactly what my scarlet cocktail dress was in need of. We’d all felt really high class rolling into Tulsa a couple weekends ago to hit the mall for our reunion digs, but some articles were better suited for hangers than bodies. Mine in particular. I’d never in my life had to work so hard to take a full breath.
Once I’d torn off the shoes I had plans to drop off at Goodwill tomorrow, I sat back, made my best attempt at relaxing, and stared at the sky. It was overcast, but a few stars were popping through the thick clouds. How many times had I stared at that sky as a young woman, spinning plans that would never come to fruition? Dreaming dreams that would never connect with reality?
Too damn many, that’s the closest I could get.
I’d had plans to travel, to visit every continent before I had kids, and I’d barely made it to a handful of bordering states since. The upside was that I wasn’t going to be a mother anytime soon, if ever, so I still had plenty of time to visit those continents.
“Is this where the Anti-Social Club meets?”
I flinched so hard, I wound up with the majority of two cups of juice on my lap. Add the dress to the Goodwill pile. “Turn around. Go away.”
A low-timbered chuckle. “You always had a way with words, Em.”
My head whipped over my shoulder. “Uh-oh. No. You do not get to call me Em.”
Chase flashed one of his infamous smiles, the one that had made him a hit with the ladies before his face had been plastered across billboards, magazines, and screensavers. It was the part-smirk, mostly-smolder grin. Right dimple set. Cobalt eyes flashing. What Celebrity Instagrammers had labeled the underwear-incinerator.
But not these underwear. Chase Lawson had no sway over the condition of my underwear anymore.
“Okay, Emma.” The sound of Chase’s boots connecting with the pavement made my teeth grind together. In a different life, I’d loved the sound of his boots as he moved closer. “Is this seat taken?”
“Yes.” I slammed the empty glasses on the bench, lifting my eyebrow at him.
“Sorry about the dress,” he said when his eyes dipped to the wet circles dotting my stomach.
“Of all the things to apologize for, my dress is not high on the list.”
His smile stretched. “I’ve missed having someone around whose primary language isn’t bullshit.”
“Is that meant as a compliment?”
“Obviously.”
Inhaling, I twisted in my seat so my back was angled toward him. No matter how many pieces of confetti Chase Lawson had diced my heart into when he left me, it wasn’t safe for any red-blooded woman to stare at him face-on at this close of a distance. Not unless she was in the market for a heartbreak.
“How have you been, Em—Emma?” He caught himself, but from his smirk, the slip had probably been intentional.
“Amazing.” I breathed through my mouth when a familiar scent hit my senses. I couldn’t believe he still wore the same cologne. It seemed like I should have had some kind of proprietary right over it since I was the one who got it for him on our first Christmas together.
“How amazing?”
“Amazingly amazing.” When I caught him glancing at my left hand, I tucked my hands beneath my legs.
“Good to hear.”
I bit my cheek, wondering if I could figure out a way to time travel to freshman year when I’d agreed to be Chase Lawson’s date to homecoming. Even the fourteen-year-old version of me had known getting involved with Chase was equivalent to playing a game of Russian Roulette. She hadn’t heeded the warning, but she’d at least acknowledged it.
“If you’re looking for your fans, you’ll find them back in there.” My thumb hitched over my shoulder. “I know you can’t go more than a few minutes without being worshipped or else you risk spontaneous combustion.”
“Please. I can go a good ten minutes without being worshipped now. I’ve matured.” I heard the smile in his voice, but damned if I was going to check for it. That was the one-hundred percent smirk one.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked. “We both know you’re the center-of-the-crowd type, not the wallflower who sneaks off to be alone.”
From the corner of my eyes, I saw him slip his hands into the pockets of his snug jeans. Another Chase Dawson trademark—close-fitting jeans to better emphasize an agreeable rear and an even more agreeable swell around front.
“A person can change,” he said, his shoulders lifting. “A person does change when all day, every day they’re surrounded by people and noise.”
My eyes lifted. “Must be difficult making all of that money from all of those adoring fans.”
“I’m not going to be able to say anything without you twisting it, am I?”
A wave of exhaustion came over me as though twenty-eight years of life had decided to catch up to me all at once. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
I chipped away at the fresh pale pink polish on my nails, a nervous habit. It was the first manicure I’d had in years, and it hadn’t survived twelve hours. “Why did you come back?”
His head tipped toward the reception hall. “It was the ten-year reunion.”
A huff escaped from my mouth. “Please, you left this place and haven’t so much as spared a second thought for anything or anyone here. And some lame reunion in the Best Western ballroom is the can’t miss event of the summer?”
He rubbed the back of his neck in a familiar way. Used as a stalling measure when he was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it, it was a display I was all too acquainted with.
“I came back from one reason.” He slowly angled in my direction. When he let out a breath, his gaze all-intentional, my chest seized.
“Me?” I screeched, at the same time choking on a laugh. “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’ve been waiting here, on pins and needles, for you. Keep on strutting back to that fancy Nashville estate of yours, because the only part of you I still want is the cautionary tale.”
Chase’s hand rubbed his jaw, his smile unmistakable despite his efforts to erase it. “I didn’t come back for you,” he stated, promptly bringing a flush to my face.
Of course he wasn’t there for me. The seventeen-year-old version hadn’t expressed any qualms ditching me as an up-and-comer; the twenty-eight-year-old country icon certainly wasn’t back to rekindle anything.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, even though I can tell you’ll be all torn up knowing that,” he said.
“Good to hear you still have a knack for sarcasm.”
He crouched beside the bench, staring at the dark pond. I was more concerned with checking the shrubs and shadows for any signs of the paparazzi he seemed to attract wherever he went. Literally, everywhere. Some dude had managed to snap a picture of Chase through his Tennessee estate’s bathroom window, fresh from the shower and shaving. The thirst for Chase Lawson had gone from parched to panting in one intimate image.
“I’ve got a new album that just dropped,” he said. “A whirlwind tour kicking off next week. I’ve had a bit of a public image problem this past year, and my PR team assured me that getting back to my roots will help shift that.”
My fingers snapped. “I knew this had something to do with the media. By the way, where is the camera squad tonight?”
“Somewhere. They’re always around.”
“I’m sure you really hate all that attention,” I chided, wondering how much more I had to throw at him before he’d move on.
“I came back because I need to clean up my image and do some damage repair to my reputation.” He went back to rubbing the back of his neck. “Now that I’m here with you, and you sort of accused me of being here for you, a crazy idea popped to mind.”
“I’d like to recommend you keep this idea to yourself,” I suggested, but he was already talking.
“If I had my old high school girlfriend with me on tour—rekindling an old flame with a small-town country girl—how could that not clean up an image?” He motioned at me. “You’re exactly what I need to show fans I’m getting my life back on track. A wholesome, down-to-earth girl who gets up at five to water the horses instead of going to bed at that hour after drinking the town dry.”
My head whipped in his direction, finally looking at him to determine if he was being serious. My god, he was.
“Not a chance in hell,” I said, enunciating each word slowly.
Chase didn’t blink. “Even if that proposition was tied to a sum of money?” When I opened my mouth to argue, he added, “A large sum?”
“My principles aren’t for sale.”
He shuffled a little closer, still kneeling. Damn. He was just as attractive in person from three feet away as he was on the cover of Rolling Stone. My stomach knotted again, but this time for a different reason.
“I don’t want to buy your principles.” One brow lifted. “Just six months of your time.”
For a minute, I sat there silently, part hypnotized by his presence, part contemplating his ridiculous offer. There were few people I disliked more than Chase Lawson, but I also had big plans for my future. Plans that necessitated money.
“How much?”
My head shook when I heard my question out loud. What was I saying? What was I actually contemplating doing?
“One hundred thousand a month,” he replied.
My hand curled around the arm of the bench. “Six hundred thousand dollars?” I shrieked, giving him a look like he was crazy.
“Fine. Six months. One million dollars.” He exhaled. “Final offer.”
My hand was dangerously close to ripping the handle from the bench. “One million dollars.”
My mind raced with everything I could do with that money. Restoring the farmhouse the way I’d dreamed, turning it into a quaint B&B with an agrarian twist. Spoiling my parents with a fancy cruise and a new farm truck. Finally getting to travel to some of the places I’d only imagined through the pictures of a magazine.
All it would take was six months with Chase.
It wasn’t exactly an easy decision, but it wasn’t a hard one. I’d given two years of my life to him already, and it had cost me more than I’d been prepared to pay. This time, he’d be the one paying for it. One million dollars to be exact.
I couldn’t answer quickly enough. “Deal.”
Teaser Tuesday…Down We’ll Come, Baby by Carrie Aarons
🖤 HAPPY TEASER TUESDAY 🖤
Down We’ll Come, Baby releases this Sunday, January 27, and to celebrate, Carrie Aarons is sharing the entire first chapter with you!
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Down We’ll Come Baby by Carrie Aarons
Releasing January 27
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Book Blurb:
Imogen
There is no way we can still love and cherish one and other.
When I married Theo Walsh, the rough, bearded townie who worked construction on my family’s summer house, I’d found my happily ever after.
That was before the fighting.
Before the jealousy.
Before the infertility.
We’ll be divorced long before death does us part.
But to secure my place in the family dynasty, there is just one more hoop I have to jump through. And I need him to do it.
Faking the marriage we once thrived in will gut me.
Especially with the secret I’m carrying.
Theo
I would have sacrificed for her until the end of time.
My job.
My home.
My happiness.
I’d given it all up to marry her. That’s how much I loved Imogen Weston, the daughter to one of the world’s richest families.
From the day we met, I’d done nothing but try to live up to the man she expected to be with. And now, I was done.
Sure, I’d complete this one final ask of hers, even if it destroyed me.
But I’ve made her promise the one thing that might save me. She swore that after she got everything she ever wanted, she wouldn’t look back.
I made my wife vow to leave me forever.
Chapter 1
Theo
I slept with my wife on our first date.
I’m not revealing this to brag or boast, or for you to infer anything from either of our personalities. It was just the simple fact that I knew from that first chance meeting, deep in my bones, that she would be the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with.
Honestly, I was never the kind of guy to get naked with a woman that quickly. If I were going for romance, which in Imogen Weston’s, the future Imogen Walsh, case I should have been … I would have laid out the red carpet. Flowers, picnics on the beach, candles, and gazing at the stars … my definition of dating was something out of a Nicholas Sparks’ novel. It’s just how you did things if you wanted to impress a woman.
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————————-
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Author of romance novels such as Red Card and Privileged, Carrie Aarons writes books that are just as swoon-worthy as they are sarcastic. A former journalist, she prefers the stories she dreams up, and the yoga pant dress code, much better.
When she isn’t writing, Carrie is busy binging reality TV, having a love/hate relationship with cardio, and trying not to burn dinner. She lives in the suburbs of New Jersey with her husband, daughter and dog.
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Forever Broken by Carrie Ann Ryan…Chapter Reveal
The final book in Carrie Ann Ryan’s Talon Pack series releases in less than a week on January 8th! Read the first chapter now and preorder your copy!
About FOREVER BROKEN
Available January 8th, 2019
In the finale to the award-winning Talon Pack series from NYT bestselling author Carrie Ann Ryan sets, the final Brentwood must find his mate as the war with the Aspens comes to a close.
Cheyenne Liles has watched all of her friends mate into the Talon Pack and have their lives changed forever, one by one. She’s stood back, helpless to assist in the war with a rival Pack. But just when she thinks her time with the Talons is over and believes she should move on with her human life, the Aspen Pack Alpha takes matters into his own hands, altering her fate far more than a single mate mark ever could.
Max Brentwood used to be the smiling one, the only Brentwood who was somehow able to save his soul during the last Alpha’s reign. But his life was irrevocably changed one fateful day on the battlefield, and he was never the same again. Suddenly, Max is forced to face his future and make a choice when Cheyenne comes into danger: let fate decide, or watch his world crumble around him.
The shifters of this world have fought demons, humans, and themselves. Now, it’s time to find out who they truly are as the war between the Packs ends, and the moon goddess finally takes a stand.
FOREVER BROKEN releases January 8th, 2019 – preorder your copy now!
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Read the first chapter of FOREVER BROKEN:
Blood roared in Cheyenne Lyon’s ears, but she didn’t scream. If she did, he would win. And if he won, then all would be lost. It wasn’t just her life she held back her pain for, but the lives of her friends. The only family she had ever known.
This shouldn’t be how it turned out.
She was supposed to be safe away from the world that had darkened around her, away from the fighting and magic that were so far out of her depth. The things that she, a woman of science, had no hope of truly comprehending.
The man behind her that wasn’t truly a man lowered his head to breathe on her neck, sending chills racing down her spine. These weren’t the chills of anticipation that came from being with a lover. Instead, they represented the dread that came from death, that portended the uncertainty of her own fate.
“It’s almost ready. Soon, you won’t have to wait for what’s to come. Soon, you’ll do your duty, and the next steps will be taken.”
Cheyenne closed her eyes, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to know why Blade, the Alpha of the Aspen Pack, wanted her. But she knew she didn’t have a choice.
She was stronger than the tears burning in her eyes, stronger than the need to run and hide from the monsters that lurked in the dark. At least that’s what she’d always told herself when she stood by her friends’ sides as they each found their mates and became part of the Talon Pack; thereby, somehow becoming enemies of the Aspen Pack.
Enemies of Blade.
Cheyenne had fought alongside her friends and their new people, their new wolves and lions and witches, as she tried not to end up bleeding and dead because she was a mere human in the world of the supernatural. She’d kicked and screamed and tried to fight when she been too weak but had prevailed. The others, however, had been far too strong for her to defeat on her own. She’d stabbed and killed when one of the Talons, Max, a man who was now family to her friends, helped her.
He’d helped her.
But he wasn’t here to help her now.
She swallowed hard, aware that Blade still stood behind her, either waiting for her to say something or just wanting to hear himself speak. She had to focus on him, had to concentrate on the present and not what she’d done in the past or who she’d fought alongside.
Cheyenne was a vet, she took care of animals and those who couldn’t take care of themselves. Now, she was surrounded by those who could turn into wolves and other creatures she didn’t know and didn’t want to think about. Her friends had said there might be more out there than wolves, witches, and cat shifters, but she’d tried to put that out of her mind.
She’d always been on the outside looking in. One by one—first Dawn, then Aimee, then Dhani—her friends had found themselves deep in the world of darkness and change. And though Cheyenne had only recently discovered the existence of magic and shifters along with the rest of the human world, somehow, she’d been fully ensconced in it thanks to her friends.
But she wasn’t a shifter, wasn’t a witch. She hadn’t even reacted to the wards like the others had, either feeling the magic too much like Aimee or feeling it differently the way Dhani had. Instead, Cheyenne had felt nothing. She didn’t understand the lure of magic and only liked science and indisputable evidence. And while the world beneath her world, or rather the world that now ran alongside hers intrigued her, she wasn’t part of it.
Her friends would one day move on from her more than they already had. She was still aging, while they were not. They were starting new lives, maybe even beginning families and growing into their new powers, strengths, and matings.
And Cheyenne wasn’t part of any of that.
As the last of her friends mated into the Talon Pack, Cheyenne had told herself she was okay, that she would find a way to move on and stay settled within the human world. She’d convinced herself that she’d be able to fade into memory as her friends physically stayed the same age, and she died a natural, human death.
As Blade breathed down her neck again, standing silently behind her, waiting for something unknown to her, she pulled herself out of those thoughts.
Because there would be nothing natural about her death today.
She didn’t know why Blade held her, and he wasn’t being forthcoming about his reasons. Maybe it was because she was the weakest link when it came to the Talons. She might not be a member, but since she’d fought alongside Max and had close friends within the den, maybe Blade saw those connections and thought she was worth something.
Only she wouldn’t be. She wasn’t a mate to any of the Talons or even the Redwoods—another Pack of shifters with deep ties to the Talons. She wouldn’t be able to fight back because she didn’t have a weapon and, unlike her friends, she wasn’t a weapon herself.
“It’s almost ready,” Blade repeated, then moved to start pacing around the small room he had her in.
She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she likely wouldn’t live when it was ready. She didn’t know how she knew that, other than a feeling deep down that this was the end for her, no matter how hard she fought.
Her head ached, and she swallowed hard, not relaxing because even though Blade was no longer directly behind her, he was still close enough to rip out her throat on a whim. She’d been leaving her vet’s office late, after hours, her back already hurting from an emergency sock removal surgery on a lovable Lab with far too much energy, when someone had come up from behind and put their hand over her mouth.
She’d screamed, kicked, and tried to use her keys to claw herself free like she’d been taught in not only her self-defense classes but also from Kameron, Dhani’s mate. He was the Enforcer of the Talon Pack and had wanted Cheyenne and her friends to know moves to protect themselves. Only her training hadn’t been as thorough as the others’ since she didn’t have claws or fangs to fight back with. Instead, she’d used her body weight to try and throw the man off balance, but it hadn’t worked.
He’d been so much stronger than her, and the more she fought, the harder he pulled and squeezed.
Then, he’d knocked her out with the back of his hand on her face, a shocking slap that had set her ears to ringing and had her teeth practically moving in her gums.
When she woke up, she’d been chained to a chair, a dimly lit bulb flickering above her. She’d been alone, cold, but thankfully still clothed. Her cheek stung, and she knew she probably had a concussion.
None of that mattered though when Blade stepped into the room.
She remembered his face, recalled the look of him as he prowled toward her. She’d seen him on the news, had spotted him in person when she fought by Max’s side, trying to keep both of them alive even though she knew she wasn’t that much help.
Blade was evil incarnate, a true horror in every sense of the word. He’d lost his witch in the last fight, and Cheyenne knew that had cost him. Scarlett had apparently helped him cross the lines of dark magic and move into the area where someone could lose their soul if they weren’t careful. He’d tried to get at the Talons for numerous things over the past few years and had nearly succeeded in wiping them out.
Blade had sent rogues over the boundary lines, willing away their need to survive and instilling in them a need to kill. He’d made those rogues break their bonds with their former Packs and had hurt them, forcing them to do what he wanted. He’d kidnapped and tortured Cheyenne’s friends, attempting to use them much like he might be using her now: as a symbol of how weak he thought the Talons were. He’d attacked the Pack with magic, taunted them, and used the human media to prey on them, as well.
He’d broken so many edicts, yet he was still free because he and those in his Pack were stronger than the Talons and the Redwoods—possibly stronger than any other Pack and the humans put together. According to Cheyenne’s friends, Blade wasn’t afraid to use dark magic and risk the end of the world in order to get what he wanted. And because the Talons couldn’t do that without killing their own like Blade was unafraid to do, they were at a disadvantage.
And just a few days earlier, he’d declared himself the Supreme Alpha of all the other Packs around the world.
Cheyenne had no idea what that meant, only that it wouldn’t be good for her, not with the way Blade had looked at her when he first walked into the small room, and certainly not with the way he stalked toward her now.
Blade had kept her in the chair, the chains loose enough that if she wiggled just right, she might be able to get herself free. But he must have known that when he chained her up. It was all psychological. Because, if she got herself out, she wouldn’t be able to get past him. And if, somehow, he tripped or happened to be looking the other way for just the instant she’d need to get through that door, she then had to hope it was unlocked.
If it weren’t, then Blade would kill her, or wait to murder her until it was ready.
Whatever it was.
Even if she got past that door, she didn’t know what was on the other side. She didn’t know who was out there or where she was. She was probably on Aspen Pack land, but according to the others, not all of the Aspens were on the side of their Alpha. Not all of them agreed with the extent of their Alpha’s depravity. Even the Talon’s contact, the Beta of the Aspens, Audrey, hadn’t been heard from in weeks, making them all worry that Blade had found out about Audrey’s clandestine meetings with the Talons and her true loyalties.
Blade hadn’t taken Cheyenne’s phone, but it was deep in her jacket pocket, and she couldn’t reach it. She didn’t know if he was unaware that she had it because he and his men hadn’t searched her, or if he knew she had it and didn’t care.
Because he knew she had no hope of escape.
No chance of rescue because no one knew she was gone.
How could they? She lived alone, worked late, and no one cared where she was at night. They all assumed that she was safely tucked in bed and far away from the world of the Packs and the war surrounding them.
Only, she wasn’t.
And the idea of hope was getting a little harder to grasp onto with each passing moment.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Blade asked, coming around to face her. His hair was getting a little long, sliding over his forehead and into his eyes. He absently brushed it back as he bent down in front of her. His breath smelled of peppermint, his teeth were perfectly straight, and if he weren’t an egotistical maniac with a homicidal streak bent on world domination, she might have considered him attractive. As it was, he reminded her of what she’d imagine a demon might look like.
Smooth moves, and a slick attitude.
The bearer of death.
“No, I don’t know why I’m here,” she bit out. She wasn’t slurring, and though her head hurt, she didn’t see double, so she didn’t think he’d drugged her. Why would he need to drug her when he could overpower her in an instant?
He glared.
“Why don’t you tell me?” She knew she shouldn’t have an attitude with him, but what did she have to lose? She wasn’t getting out of this room alive. She knew that. There was no amount of magic or prayers to a goddess she wasn’t sure she believed in that could save her.
This was it.
And if she were going down, she would do it with a fight. A fight for her life, and a fight for the woman who Cheyenne was beyond the woman in chains.
Blade grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, those eyes were dead, evil, and she didn’t know why the media had believed him when he went on air pretending to be a human to put the Talons under fire. There was nothing human about Blade. There was nothing good about him.
“You should know, usually, I’d never turn down a good monologue, but we don’t have a lot of time. I’ve been waiting years for this moment, for the moon to rise at the perfect angle on the one night when the power is the greatest—for the moon goddess to bless me with what is needed.”
Cheyenne had no idea what he was talking about, but whatever it was, she knew it could mean death for the Talons, the end of her friends. That was what this man, this wolf, seemed to want—at least in her opinion.
“You’re going to serve a specific purpose, Cinnamon.”
“It’s Cheyenne,” she bit out.
“Does it matter?”
“It does to me.” She met his gaze and didn’t drop her chin when his wolf came into his eyes. She only knew it was that because the others had told her, and she had seen it with the Talons. A gold rim glowed around his iris, pulsating with power. Blade was not a lower-ranking wolf. He’d become Alpha because of his strength, or at least because of his family line—she wasn’t sure on the mechanics of it all—but she knew an Alpha couldn’t be weak.
And Blade wasn’t weak.
He snorted after a moment, then continued. “I searched for over a century for the artifact and then waited a few decades longer to work out the details. And you’re the final detail.”
He paused, and she swallowed hard, knowing that she wouldn’t like what he had to say next. Of course, she hadn’t liked any of it. And though her pulse raced, and she practically shook in her chains, she listened to every word and knew that if, somehow, by the grace of the goddess, Cheyenne found a way to survive, she’d tell the Talons everything she knew.
Because she might not be a Pack member, might not be a shifter, but she’d die before she let her friends get hurt because of this monster.
“The artifact needs you. Well, it needs blood to activate. And the fact it will be your blood will be killing two birds with a single stone.”
He pulled out a long, thin knife. Cheyenne thought it might be called a stiletto, but she wasn’t sure.
“Actually, a single blade will work.” He winked. “Pun not intended.”
Then he stood up, and she screamed, pulling herself out of her chains as she bent down and wiggled. His eyes widened a fraction, but then he schooled his features and came at her. She screamed again, trying to duck out of his hold, but he was too fast. He was always too quick.
He pulled her by the hair, the stiletto close to her neck. She froze, leaning against his chest as she tried not to rock forward onto the blade.
“Come with me.” He growled the words and tugged her out the door, unlocking it with a key as he did.
She wouldn’t have made it, wouldn’t have escaped, no matter how hard she fought.
She didn’t want to die today.
But it didn’t look like she was going to have a choice.
The moon was just dimming in the sky, the sun about to rise on the horizon. She must have been unconscious for longer than she thought if a new day was about to start.
She wasn’t going to die on a Sunday but a Monday—a thought she’d never thought to have. Blade pulled her close, the bile in her throat so strong that she was afraid she’d throw up right on his shirt.
“The moon needs to be on her way from the sky and into the darkness, for the light must come.” Blade smiled, and Cheyenne knew tears were falling down her cheeks.
She tugged at his hold, trying to get away, but she couldn’t.
“You will be our salvation. Blood for blood. Blade for flesh. Sacrament for death.”
Then, he slid the blade under her ribs, puncturing her lung but not her heart. She was a vet, had gone to school to learn the anatomy of animals, but she had learned the anatomy of humans, as well.
She knew he’d stabbed her there on purpose so she would bleed out slowly, death taking longer than the seconds or minutes of agony she might have otherwise endured. With her lung punctured, she would lose the ability to breathe, would drown in her own fluids even as her lifeblood left her.
She could already feel her breathing become labored, feel her lungs fighting for oxygen.
Then, she was on her back, blood slowly pooling around her as Blade stood above her. The moon was still overhead, the sun slowly rising behind Blade’s back.
And in his hands, he held a stone, hand-carved and almost brick-shaped, but she couldn’t tell what it was exactly. Power leached from him as he squeezed it, his hands covered in her blood. The hairs on her arms stood on end and it felt as if she were too close to a lightning strike. And though the power had to be coming from the stone and into him, it was as if he had so much in him now, he couldn’t contain it all.
Then she closed her eyes, afraid that this was the end because it hurt to breathe, it hurt to see the power in his hands. Because she wouldn’t be the only one who died for what he held.
When Cheyenne opened her eyes again, Blade was gone, and the only thing she could hear was the wheezing of her breaths. She swallowed hard, slowly reaching into her pocket for her phone. She might not be able to save herself tonight, but maybe she could save her friends.
Her fingers slid over the screen, her blood making it too slippery for her to see the display clearly. She tried to call the last person in her recents, but it scrolled a bit farther and dialed someone she’d only called once—and just so he could have her number.
It had been done in an odd sense of friendship, camaraderie.
Now, she just hoped he answered.
“Cheyenne?” Max growled into the phone. “Where are you?”
“Here,” she wheezed. But she knew it was too late, he wouldn’t be able to hear her. “I’m here.”
She could have sworn she heard a howl as she closed her eyes again, and when she opened them once more, she knew she had to be dreaming.
Max. She didn’t actually say the word, didn’t have the breath in her lungs.
She only knew it was him hovering over her on three legs, blood on his muzzle, and the anger of a thousand suns in his gaze. During the final battle with the rogue humans who had wanted the wolves to die, Max had lost the lower part of his right arm as well as a lot of flesh on his chest. His chest had healed, but his arm hadn’t grown back. Shifter genetics didn’t do that. So, in wolf form, he stood on three legs, strong and fierce, though she knew he didn’t feel that way.
Max growled, and she wondered why he had blood on his muzzle.
Then, she didn’t wonder anymore when he bit into her flesh.
And again.
She didn’t scream, didn’t feel a thing. She didn’t know why she didn’t feel anything, she wasn’t cold enough to be that close to death, not yet.
Something was protecting her.
And she knew Max wasn’t trying to eat her. No, he was attempting to change her, to save her.
He was doing the only thing he could.
And he hadn’t given her a choice. If she lived through this, she would make sure he understood that she would have said yes to a change. He was breaking the law, and possibly breaking part of himself to do this, and he already had enough on his shoulders.
She didn’t want him to blame himself for this.
But as he bit her again, something snapped inside her. Not physically. But a warmth in her heart spread and seemed to spear outward toward Max. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe as Max quickly changed to his human form—far too fast for him or any other wolf.
Before she could think, he had her in his naked lap and was holding her close, blood covering them both. She couldn’t quite understand it all.
“Mate,” he whispered. “The moon goddess.” He coughed. “Mate.”
And then, she fell into the darkness again, wondering if the word mate was the last thing she’d ever hear.
Because she wasn’t a wolf.
She didn’t know if she was Pack.
But…she was Max Brentwood’s mate.
Somehow.
About Carrie Ann Ryan
Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Talon Pack, and Gallagher Brothers series, which have sold over 3.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over sixty novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not writing about bearded tattooed men or alpha wolves that need to find their mates, she’s reading as much as she can and exploring the world of baking and gourmet cooking.
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Yours After Dark by Marie Force…Blog Tour with Chapter Reveal
Today we are celebrating the release of YOURS AFTER DARK. Yours After Dark is part of the Gansett Island series by Marie Force. Check out the purchase links, blurb and teaser for the book below.
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YOURS AFTER DARK (Gansett Island, #20) by Marie Force
Available Now!
Book Blurb:
He didn’t believe in love at first sight… Until it happened to him.
Finn McCarthy, the youngest of the McCarthy cousins, is at a crossroads. As the lease on his Gansett Island rental comes to an end, he’s making plans to return to his “real” life on the mainland. He’s enjoyed the nearly two years on Gansett with his boisterous fun-loving family, but it’s time to get back to the life he put on hold when he came to the island for his cousin’s wedding—and never left. With renovations to the Wayfarer, the family’s latest business endeavor, all but completed and the grand opening slated for Memorial Day weekend, the time is right to make a move. That is until he stops by the local salon for a quick trim that turns his life plan upside down…
Chloe Dennis, owner of the Curl Up and Dye Salon, is about to close the shop after another ordinary day when Finn McCarthy walks in and turns the ordinary into the extraordinary. Holy hotness! How has she never met the youngest of the McCarthys, and now that she has met him, why is it that she runs into him everywhere she goes?
Despite the undeniable sizzle of attraction between Finn and Chloe, she is dealing with life-changing news that makes her reluctant to get involved with anyone, let alone a man who plans to leave the island for good in two short weeks. Finn can’t understand why he reacts to Chloe the way he does or why she won’t give him a chance to see what they could be. When she makes it clear that it’s not going to happen between them, what else can he do but go forward with his plan to pack up and leave at the end of the month? Unless the push-pull of undeniable desire makes them forget the many reasons why this could be a bad idea…
Return to Gansett Island for another visit with all the series regulars and to find out if Finn and Chloe can overcome the obstacles that stand between them and the possibility of true love. Catch up with Mac, Maddie, Adam, Abby, Riley, Nikki, Blaine and Tiffany, attend Shane and Katie’s wedding, and find out what happens when Blaine’s troubled brother Deacon comes to the island. Get ready for another hot, sexy summer on Gansett Island!
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Chapter Reveal:
Chapter 1
“What in the name of hell is on your head?”
Arriving to work slightly hungover and in bad need of coffee, Finn McCarthy ignored the question from his brother, Riley. Finn had forgotten to buy coffee—again—and had gone without this morning. Living alone sucked. Before his dad and Riley moved out, one of them had bought the coffee. Now he had to do it, and he never remembered it until he woke up late and realized he’d forgotten. Again.
Riley wasn’t giving up. “Hello?”
“What is what?” Finn choked back a yawn and tried to remember if he’d brushed his teeth before he left the house. He had, hadn’t he?
Riley stepped closer to him, boasting the freshly fucked look that had made Finn want to stab him more than once in the months since his brother moved in with Nikki. “That.” Riley pointed to the top of Finn’s head. “What is that?”
Finn had no idea what he was talking about until he reached up and encountered the lump of hair he’d secured with a rubber band to keep it out of his face.
Their cousin Shane joined them. “It’s a man bun, and it looks ridiculous.”
Riley, that asshole, busted up laughing. “What the hell is a man bun?”
“That.” Shane pointed to Finn’s head. “Is a man bun. They’re all the rage.”
Riley couldn’t stop laughing. He laughed so hard, he howled, while Finn prayed that his cousin Mac would bring coffee the way he did most days.
Thankfully, Mac walked into the Wayfarer a minute later with his business partner, Luke Harris, right behind him. And was that a tray of coffee Mac was carrying? Yes! “What’s so funny?”
“Finn has a man bun,” Shane said.
“And it looks ridiculous,” Riley added.
Finn stole one of the coffees and took a big sip. Ahhh, pure bliss. “There’s nowhere to get it cut out here.”
“Go see Chloe at the Curl Up and Dye,” Mac said.
“I don’t get my hair cut in salons,” Finn said disdainfully. “I go to barber shops, and there isn’t one on this island.”
“The way I see it,” Riley said, “if it’s a choice between a man bun or a salon, I’m choosing the salon every time.”
“The way I see it,” Finn said, “no one asked you.”
“Wait till Dad, Uncle Mac and Uncle Frank see the man bun.” Riley started laughing again. “I gotta get a picture so we can show them in case they miss it.” The bastard whipped his phone out and had the picture before Finn could react or turn away. That picture would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Maybe the guys were right—a salon was preferable to putting up with this bullshit. His hair had gotten so long, it was either restrain it or wear a hat to keep it out of his face. Hats annoyed him when he was working, so he’d grabbed a rubber band to contain it without a thought to what it might look like. Apparently, that had been a mistake.
Today, they were finishing up the shingling on the exterior of the Wayfarer, which was due to open in a couple of weeks. They were on track to meet the aggressive deadline Mac had set for the project and had turned the interior over to Nikki, the general manager. She and the team she’d hired over the last few months would be loading in furniture this week, setting up hotel rooms and the dining room, hanging wall art and making finishing touches ahead of the grand opening on Memorial Day weekend.
On Saturday of that weekend, the Wayfarer would host its first major event—the wedding reception of Shane and his fiancée, Katie Lawry. They’d joked that they were the guinea pigs to test out whether the McCarthy family’s latest Gansett Island business venture was ready for prime time. The day after the wedding, Finn’s famous cousin Evan McCarthy would headline the outdoor stage at the grand opening to the public.
So far, the Wayfarer was a huge hit, with Nikki reporting that the hotel was sold out for the summer and ten other weddings were already booked. That was what they wanted to hear. Each family member had a stake in the business—some bigger than others—but everyone had put something into his uncle Big Mac’s latest venture so they could all be owners. Finn was proud of the work they’d done to bring the old place back to life and even prouder of being part of something the family had done together.
Before going outside to get to work, Finn slathered sunscreen all over his face, neck and arms, gathered his nail gun and a ladder and followed the others to the scaffolding that was set up on the north side of the huge building they’d spent the winter renovating. They’d done a damned good job, if he said so himself.
With the end in sight, Finn was making plans to move to the mainland after almost two years on Gansett Island. It’d been fun to hang with the family for a couple of years, to see his father and brother fall in love with women Finn liked and respected and to be part of Mac’s construction company. But it was time to get back to his real life, and that wasn’t going to happen on a tiny island located off the southern coast of mainland Rhode Island.
He looked forward to skiing in the winter, driving the vintage Mustang he kept garaged at home and spending time with the friends he’d left behind. Not to mention taking his career to the next level with the large construction company he’d worked for in Stamford, Connecticut. There, he’d put his degree in civil engineering to good use. Here, he was banging nails. Not that he didn’t enjoy the work, but he hadn’t spent four excruciating years in college to end up a glorified carpenter.
Missy—or Melissa as she preferred to be called these days—his on-again-off-again girlfriend at home, was threatening to come fetch him if he wasn’t home by June, and he would save her the trip to Gansett by heading home right after the grand opening. After going round and round in his mind about how he felt about her during the time he’d been gone, he was actually looking forward to seeing her. Despite the tumultuous aspects of their five-year relationship, they’d had a lot of fun together, most of the time anyway. Since they’d been broken up during the time he was gone, he’d indulged in a few one-night stands here and there, but nothing of any consequence.
It was definitely time to go home and figure out whether they had what it took to go the distance together. His dad and Riley said absolutely not. They’d never liked Missy for him, but Finn was determined to make up his own mind about her after seeing what remained after the long time apart.
He would miss his brother, father, aunt, uncles and cousins, and he would really miss working with Riley, Mac, Shane and Luke. He’d miss the family gatherings, the fishing trips Big Mac liked to organize and the time with his favorite men in the world. He’d miss Riley’s girlfriend, Nikki, whom he called Nicholas while she called him Finnbar. The three of them had spent a lot of time together over the winter, and she’d become a good friend to him.
He liked being able to regularly see his cousins Janey and Laura and their kids, as well as Mac’s brood and now Adam’s little guy, Liam, too. Mac’s wife, Maddie, was expecting another baby, and he’d heard rumblings that his cousin Grant’s wife, Stephanie, might be pregnant, too. In addition, his cousin Mallory and her fiancé, Quinn, were talking about tying the knot at some point this summer.
Life on Gansett was rarely boring with the McCarthy family and their friends around to keep things interesting. It wasn’t like Finn was dying to get out of there, especially with the summer coming. That was the best time of year to be on the island. But he’d promised himself over the winter that once the Wayfarer was finished, he’d make a move.
The Wayfarer was almost done, and the lease at the house was up at the end of the month. It seemed like the universe was conspiring to tell him it was time to get back to reality.
Nikki had offered him the garage apartment at Eastward Look, her family’s home, if he wanted it. He was tempted to stay for the summer, but that would only prolong the inevitable.
No, he was going home at the end of the month. Tonight, he’d text his old boss in Stamford to let him know he’d be available in June, and he’d touch base with Missy, too. As he applied the nail gun to a row of shingles, he felt a sense of calm come over him. For so many months, the stay-or-go tug-of-war had raged in his mind while his family had pressured him to stay with them. He’d be the only member of the McCarthy family not living on Gansett, and while it was tempting to give in to the pressure from his family, he had goals and aspirations that couldn’t be achieved on the island.
Someday, he’d like to own his own company the way Mac did. Finn considered self-employment the holy grail, accountable to no one but yourself and your employees. Mac worked his ass off, but it seemed nice to be the boss. Finn thought he would like that—someday in the far-off future that would be much farther off if he stayed here than it would be if he went home to Connecticut.
The workday dragged. Shingling was boring, monotonous work that gave him too much time to think. He wanted out of his own thoughts for a while. “What’re you guys doing tonight?” he asked Riley as they helped the others clean up and shut down for the day.
“Not sure yet. Nik might be working late again.”
“I want to go out.”
“I’d be up for that. What do you feel like doing?”
“Drinking, raising hell, the usual.”
Riley smiled. “That’s your usual. Not mine anymore.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re not married yet.”
“Nope, but I’d like to be. Sooner rather than later.”
Finn stopped and took a closer look at his brother. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. In fact, I was going to ask if you’d help me pick out a ring.”
“Wow. This is huge.” While Finn was thrilled for his brother and Nikki, he couldn’t ignore the nagging ache that came with losing his best friend. As soon as he had that thought, he felt stupid. Riley was getting married, not dying, for Christ’s sake.
“You okay?” Riley gave him an odd look that had Finn pulling himself together.
“I’m happy for you, Ri. Nicholas is a great girl.”
“I love her.”
The stark simplicity of his brother’s statement stayed with Finn on the ride home. Riley had promised to text him after he caught up with Nikki about the plans for the evening. I love her. He puzzled over his brother’s heartfelt words while showering, and then while drinking a beer and eating his favorite after-work snack of corn chips and Cheez Whiz. I love her.
What must it be like to be so certain?
Had he ever said that about any woman, even Missy? Nope, and he wasn’t sure whether what he’d felt for Missy was love or lust or some weird combination of the two. One thing he knew for certain—he hadn’t had with her what Riley had with Nikki. The realization made him uneasy as he ran fingers through his unruly mop of hair, recalling that he’d planned to get a haircut.
He searched for the Curl Up and Dye salon’s number on his phone and put through a call.
A female voice answered. “Curl Up and Dye.”
“Hi there. What time do you close tonight?”
“Seven.”
“Can you take a walk-in?”
“If you get here soon.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“What’s your name?”
“Finn McCarthy.”
“Got it. See you soon.”
He downed the rest of the beer and put the Cheez Whiz in the fridge next to the beer that was the only other thing in there. The meager contents of his fridge were further proof that he needed to get a life.
Since the salon was in town, he decided to walk rather than drive. As the season started to pick up steam with Gansett Island Race Week underway, parking in town could be hard to come by. A block from the salon, he noticed the dark purple paint and the sign with the catchy name painted in gold leaf. Two smiling, laughing women were leaving as he reached the door, and he held it for them.
One of them gave him the once-over as she went by. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She was old enough to be his mother.
Inside the salon, the first thing he noticed was the rich scent of shampoo and the décor that consisted of golden wood floors, black leather chairs, chrome accents and mirrors all over the place.
“I’ll be right out.” The same distinctive voice he’d spoken to on the phone.
“Take your time.” Finn looked around at the glass shelves of products that promised shine, body, vibrancy and a variety of other things he never gave much thought to.
“You don’t need that.”
Finn looked up from the bottle he was studying to find the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on looking at him in amusement. Shoulder-length dark hair streaked with dark purple, ears pierced multiple times each, her left arm boasting a colorful sleeve tattoo, a sparkling diamond stud in her nose and violet eyes that riveted him. He’d never seen eyes that color before. She wore a black sleeveless top over black skinny jeans that clung to curves that made his mouth go dry.
“You must be Finn?”
“Ah, yeah. That’s me.” He put the bottle on the shelf and managed to knock two others to the floor. As he bent to retrieve them, his head connected with hers in a painful smack that made him see stars. Fucking hell, that hurt! When he looked up, he found her rubbing the side of her head.
“Ow.”
“Sorry about that.” He picked up the bottles and returned them to the shelf.
“You’ve got a hard head.” Her face flushed when she realized the double meaning behind her words.
A surge of heat to his groin caught him by surprise. It’d been so long since any woman had interested him, and he’d nearly given this one a concussion. “May I please request a do-over of the last minute?” He held out his hand. “I’m Finn McCarthy.”
She eyed his hand before she reached out to take it. “Chloe Dennis.”
The brush of her skin against his made his entire system go haywire. What the hell was that about? Stunned and unnerved by his reaction to her, he quickly retrieved his hand. “Do you have time for a quick haircut?”
“Sure, but with all that hair, it’s not going to be quick.”
“I can come back another time.”
“No, it’s fine.” She gestured to one of three black chairs positioned in front of a row of mirrors. “Have a seat.”
Finn headed for the chair she pointed to and sat, feeling out of sorts and off his game after the head bump. He wasn’t usually so clumsy or awkward around women, but he’d rarely encountered one like Chloe.
Goddess was the word that came to mind. She projected a cool, aloof aura of self-confidence, which he found incredibly sexy. He stared at her in the mirror as she approached the chair, and when she ran her fingers through his hair, he felt her touch in every corner of his body. Even the bottoms of his feet tingled with awareness.
Holy crap.
“What’re you thinking?”
He didn’t dare answer that question.
“Short or on the longer side?”
God, she was talking about his hair, and his imagination had run away with him.
“Um, short enough that it’s not in my face at work, but not super short.”
“What do you do for work?”
“Construction for my cousin Mac.”
“Ahh, gotcha. He’s insane. In the best way, of course.”
Finn laughed. “That he is. He keeps us well entertained.” Finn would miss the older cousin he’d always looked up to. The ten years between them had all but disappeared in the time Finn had lived on Gansett Island. These days, Mac treated him more like a peer than a pesky baby cousin. Finn had learned a lot from Mac, both professionally and personally.
“You McCarthy men sure were blessed with great hair.”
Watching her run her fingers through his hair was one of the most erotic things Finn had ever experienced.
“I cut your dad, your uncles, your cousins. You guys could be shampoo models.”
Finn cleared a huge lump from his throat. “You think so?”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “I really do.”
Was it his imagination or did she look at him much longer than necessary? No, definitely not his imagination. He shifted in the seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice his embarrassing reaction to her. The movement startled her, and she looked away.
Nothing like this had ever happened in a barber shop.
—————
CHECK OUT THE REST OF THE GANSETT ISLAND SERIES
—————————-
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Marie Force is the New York Times bestselling author of more than 50 contemporary romances, including the Gansett Island Series, which has sold more than 3 million books, and the Fatal Series from Harlequin Books, which has sold 1.5 million books. In addition, she is the author of the Butler, Vermont Series, the Green Mountain Series and the erotic romance Quantum Series, written under the slightly modified name of M.S. Force. All together, her books have sold more than 5.5 million copies worldwide!
Her goals in life are simple—to finish raising two happy, healthy, productive young adults, to keep writing books for as long as she possibly can and to never be on a flight that makes the news.
Join Marie’s mailing list for news about new books and upcoming appearances in your area. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter @marieforce and on Instagram. Join one of Marie’s many reader groups. Contact Marie at marie@marieforce.com.
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Cover Reveal….Keeping Him by Kennedy Fox
Jackson Bishop is your typical playboy.
Unpredictable, charming, and overly confident.
Growing up in Texas, the ranch life is all he’s ever known. Horses and late night partying are his lifestyles, and all the local girls know it too. Riding lessons aren’t the only things taught at the stables, and he makes sure clients never leave unsatisfied. Everyone knows Jackson’s a wild card, but not everything is as it seems. He may be a womanizer on the surface, but he’s hiding deep feelings about the one who’s had his heart since he was a teen. Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as roping her in and claiming her as his.
Kiera Young is well-known for her sassy nature and outgoing personality. Though she’s one of the best horse trainers in the area, she’s never been able to tame her best friend and the man she’s secretly loved since she was fifteen—Jackson Bishop. She’s waited years for him to confess his true feelings but as time goes on, she decides she’s done waiting. Kiera finally meets a man who promises to give her the world, and when he pops the question, she says yes—knowing they’re both ready to settle down and start a family.
Even if her heart beats for another man.
Jackson’s certain he’s lost Kiera for good and has no one to blame but himself. However, on the day of her wedding, he can’t bring himself to watch the woman he loves walk down the aisle to someone else. Kiera’s already having second thoughts and knows she can’t get married without his support. It’s not until she’s at the altar that she realizes she can’t let Jackson go and will do whatever it takes to keep him—even if it means running out on her own wedding.
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Brooke Cumberland & Lyra Parish are a duo of romance authors who teamed up to write under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox. They share a love of You’ve Got Mail and The Holiday. When they aren’t bonding over romantic comedies, they like to brainstorm new book ideas. One day, they decided to collaborate and have some fun creating new characters that’ll make your lady bits tingle and your heart melt. If you enjoy romance stories with sexy, tattooed alpha males and smart, independent women, then a Kennedy Fox book is for you!
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Chapter Reveal….Break by Cassia Leo
Today we have the chapter reveal for the much-anticipated novel, BREAK, by USA Today Best Selling Author Cassia Leo. Check it out and pre-order your copy today!
About Break
From the New York Times bestselling author of the Shattered Hearts Series comes a sweet and sexy stand-alone rock star romance.
For most of my life, Ben Hayes was the gorgeous bad boy musician next door. My brother’s heart throb best friend.
Then, he was my boyfriend for six of the happiest years of my life. Until he dumped me on social media in front of millions of people, officially cementing his role as my worst enemy.
Three years later, Ben returns to our small beach town with an ego the size of California, a drinking problem, a movie deal that’s about to fall through, and a secret that only he and his dying father know.
I’m not the same pathetic girl I was when he broke my heart. I’m stronger now. I won’t let him break me again.
But it’s hard to resist those ocean-blue eyes, that sculpted, tattooed body, that smooth voice, that enormous… Well, you get the picture.
Every time he makes me laugh or swoon, my defenses fracture. The walls around my heart are crumbling fast. And Ben’s wrecking ball of a secret is about to deliver the final blow.
Pre-Order Now
BREAK will be available for purchase on all retailers for ONE DAY ONLY, July 26, 2018. After July 26th, it will only be available on Amazon. You do not need to have a Kindle Unlimited subscription to purchase BREAK on Amazon.
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About Cassia Leo
New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book.
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