A Fine Mess by Kelly Siskind….Release Blitz & Review

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ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: A Fine Mess

Author: Kelly Siskind

Series: Over The Top, #2

On Sale: August 2, 2016

Publisher: Forever

Format: eBook

Price: $3.99 USD

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Some guys should come with a warning label…

Sawyer West is Mr. One-Night Stand. He doesn’t do relationships or promises or feelings. He’s never cared enough to get involved. Until Lily Roberts. She’s sweet and shy and sexy as sin, and resisting her is testing his self-control. She believes Sawyer can be a better man, and for the first time in his life, he wants to be. But change isn’t easy, and Sawyer would do anything to protect Lily from his past self. Even break his own heart…

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EXCERPT

She holds up her new treasure. “Found a good one.” The blue stone in the center of the ring catches the light of a nearby lamp, the thick band decorated with filigree.

“Okay,” I say. “You first.”

She swallows and peeks at me from below her lashes. “There was this man.” Another swallow. “He was a soldier about to be shipped off to war.” She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip. “He bought this ring but didn’t propose to his girl before he left. He was afraid. He didn’t think he’d do right by her. But he held on to it during every battle, and every horrible night. When he got home and realized he was being foolish”—she looks at me with glassy eyes—“the girl had fallen for someone else.”

Single Lily fights dirty.

My pulse kicks up a notch as I approach her. I stop a foot away and hold out my hand. “The ring, please.”

Trembling slightly, she places it in my palm, her fingers grazing my skin.

“A man,” I say, turning the band over, “proposed to the girl of his dreams with this ring.” I step closer. “He worshipped her. I mean, she was hot as fuck”—eye roll numero cinco—“but they were meant to be, like real soul mates. Then the unthinkable happened.” I shift my feet until there’s barely an inch between us.

Self-control at DEFCON 2.

“What happened?” she whispers.

I grin. “A car fell on her. Freak accident. Dropped from the second story of a parking garage. Nasty mess.” I grab her hand and place the ring on her finger as she mumbles something about my maturity. I knock her toe with mine. “Quiet. I’m not done.” Numero seis. I clear my throat. “Although the man loved his wife more than anything, he pawned the ring. He knew it was special. He hoped the next person to buy it could be as lucky in love as he was.”

That stops the eye rolls.

She looks at the ring, then at me, then back and forth again.

Her lips part. Her chest rises.

Sirens ring: DEFCON 1.

I’m a thrill seeker. Cliff jumping, fast cars, steep slopes—you name it, I love it. The adrenaline rush gives me Spidey-sense, and my pulse shoots from one hundred to 220 in ten seconds flat.

Leaning in to kiss Lily is like skydiving without a chute.

I don’t give her time to turn me down, not a moment for either of us to overthink. Heart in my throat, I taste her lips. Yep, strawberry. She’s soft and tentative, then eager, a whimper escaping when our tongues swipe. I grip her harder and walk until I have her pressed against a table. She tugs my hair. I grab her ass. The next whimper is louder, the sound shredding what’s left of my self-control. I need to hear what other sounds she makes, need to hear her fall apart. Will she chant my name or pray to her maker? Will she scream or groan? Our mouths move faster, hands greedier, my jeans barely containing me. If I don’t stop soon, we’ll be giving these antiques enough stories for another century.

By the time I pull away, she’s swallowed my heart.

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my-review

Kelly has become another author that I will drop whatever I am doing and read her book as soon as it’s released.  And A Fine Mess is perfect proof of why.

A Fine Mess is the second book in her Over The Top series and is the story of Sawyer and Lily.  You don’t need to read any of these books in order but it really helps to stay with the overall nature of the story if you do.

Back to the book.  Sawyer is Mr. Playboy extraordinaire.  But he’s also the laid and funny one of the group.  Lily is the shy one with the brilliant designer mind.  These two hit it off immediately in the first book and became fast friends, all because Lily has a boyfriend.  There is no denying their attraction to one another.  These two couldn’t be more different than the other one, except they both have been keeping secrets from family and friends.  Secrets that could dampen anything more between them.

I love the characters that Kelly creates.  They are so real and authentic, it’s impossible to not be able to relate to them in some way.  And one huge thing – they act like the adults they are!  They don’t act like teenagers and assume sh*t, they talk it out.  I love the banter between Sawyer and Lily – they totally feed off another.  It’s amazing.

Kelly really knows how to write her stories.  It’s like you’re watching a movie or TV show play out before you. ( I could so easily see this series being a TV show, I really can).  I can’t say enough about this book or this series. 

I can’t wait to read the next book, which is Raven and Nico’s.  These two are going to be like watching a huge fireworks display! 

 5LovesRLB

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THE OVER THE TOP SERIES

Over The Top Series

My Perfect Mistake, #1

A Fine Mess, #2

Series page on Goodreads

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelly Siskind CREDIT Eirik Dunlop

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.

She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings-Gummy Bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.

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Set The Pace by Kim Karr…..Excerpt Reveal

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Set the pace FOR WEB

 

Every city needs a hero, but Detroit’s white knight just might be a villain.
A rough childhood branded Jasper Storm trouble. A bad boy. Not worth a damn. His love of cars was the only thing that could battle his delinquency. With the need for speed in his blood, he overcame his wayward ways. Mostly. Now the broken city of Detroit hails him their shining star. And the man behind a new cutting-edge automobile is ready to turn this bankrupt town around.
Charlotte Lane was the tomboy who lived next door. She was his best friend. He was her protector. Then tragedy struck and she disappeared, forever—or so he thought.
Everything Jasper does in life is fast. He talks fast, f*cks fast, and drives fast. But when one reckless turn brings him face-to-face with the childhood he has tried very hard to forget, he finds himself on the edge of wondering if he shouldn’t slow down.
Time hasn’t erased who they are though. Jasper has many reasons to hate Charlotte and keep his distance, which is easier said than done. Soon she’s infiltrating his every thought and he can’t stay away. Back in town with an agenda of her own, she should push him aside. Make him turn around. Walk away herself. Yet she can’t.
With the past lurking between them, they proceed with caution. That is until one sex-filled night leads to murder, and things are forced to change. Now that Detroit’s biggest ally has suddenly become suspect number one, will Charlotte—the girl Jasper once kept safe—be the one to save him?
goodreads link

Except

 

Set the Pace

Excerpt

© 2016 by Kim Karr

 

Charlotte Lane

Buzz. Buzz.

Startled, I jump and quickly place the frame back in its place.

Buzz. Buzz.

It’s the call button from the lobby. I’m not sure what to do. I should probably ask Jasper if he is expecting anyone before I let whomever it is up.

The hallway he disappeared down is fairly long and at the end are two doors. Both are slightly ajar. I can hear the shower running and music playing. I try to place the song. Just as I go to knock, I pause, and then grin, it’s Led Zeppelin—the same music that used to blare from his garage when he was out there with his father.

Somehow in my absentminded quandary, my fingertips have nudged the door open just enough that I can see inside the bathroom. Perfectly. In my direct line of sight is a huge glass wall and he is just beyond it.

My pulse is beating so hard I can feel it pounding at all my pulse points. I should leave. I don’t need to bother Jasper. Whoever it is buzzing to come up can just come back later. Yet, I can’t move. Or maybe it’s more like I don’t want to move.

Steam hovers in the air but there’s not nearly enough to obscure anything. And there he is, naked in the water, head bent as it sluices over him. His eyes are closed. One hand is on the wall. The other slides slowly down his belly and lands between his thighs.

Oh, God.

Now I really can’t move. I’m frozen in place. His hand is on his cock. I swallow the noise my throat tries to make, but I’m sure I don’t do a good job of it. Thank you, Jesus, he doesn’t seem to notice. No, he definitely doesn’t notice because oh, my God, now he’s stroking himself. Slowly. Deliciously. Up, then down, and a twist of his palm around the head of his cock.

I shouldn’t be watching this, and yet I can’t look away. This is private. For him only, and yet I have to wonder if it’s because of me. Is it his attraction to me that made him step back just moments ago? Made him have to relieve the desire he was feeling? Then why did he say he wouldn’t kiss me again?

When he moves his wrist faster, I have to stifle my sudden harsh breath with my hand. My eyes are glued to his body and although I should leave, I can’t. I just can’t. Jasper, doing this to himself, is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The only thing stopping me from reaching between my own legs is my perverted fascination with wanting to watch him come. Oh, and of course the terror of getting caught.

His mouth opens, water filling it and overflowing when he tips his face into the spray. I want so much to be in there with him, share the water, and feel that mouth on my body, but I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen. We seem to be dancing around the attraction we feel for each other. Like both of us are afraid to take that leap from a two-decade-old friendship to intimacy. Afraid perhaps of where it might lead, or maybe where it won’t.

I can’t be sure.

Then again, it could be that the ghosts that accompany us are just too strong to bear.

Soon he’s fucking into his fist with a deliberation that makes me weak at the knees, and I watch. I watch the way his muscles cord in his arms, the way his cock moves within the confines of his fist, the way his face contorts into pure pleasure.

Looking at Jasper, watching him about to come, it opens up something within me. The feeling is hard to describe and I can only think of one word that is fitting—primal.

His cock disappears inside his curled fingers and this stroke seems somehow more determined. Up, down, a twist around his crown, and then another twist. This time his head dips down, and then lowers still.

I press my thighs together to ward off the ache of arousal that is flooding me. I can’t hear him, but I wish I could. I know what he’s feeling, though, because I can see his mouth open and his face contort with satisfaction. He’s close. I can tell. And then soon enough, his taut belly strains, the muscles in his legs bunch, and then it happens—his desire jets out.

Never in my life have I wanted to make myself come like I do right in this moment. No, that’s not true. Never in my life have I wished for a man to take me the way I wish for Jasper to take me right now. Still, this is all kinds of wrong. I shouldn’t have watched him. I know this. Chiding myself, I lick salt from my upper lip and slowly, cautiously take a step back.

“Is there a show going on that I wasn’t invited to?”

That voice. I know that voice. The cynicism behind the tone.

Oh, God.

No. No. No.


 

About Kim Karr

Reader * Writer * Coffeelover * Romantic
Kim Karr is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She is a daydreamer. So much so that if daydreaming could be a hobby it would be her favorite. It’s how her stories are born and how they take root. An imagination that runs wild is something to be thankful for, and she is very thankful. :)
She grew up in New York and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She’s always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and with the rest of her time embraces one of her biggest passions–writing.
Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read.
She likes to believe in soulmates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.

 

 

 

Soulless by T.M. Frazier……Excerpt Reveal Blitz

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Excerpt

“I’ll deal with you when we get back to the house,” Bear snapped, his words loaded with so many different meanings I trembled with both fear and anticipation.

“You’re going to deal with me?” I asked. “How are you going to deal with me?” My attitude and confidence faded with each word until the last was merely a whisper.

“Yes, DEAL with you,” Bear warned, suddenly pausing to take in my appearance. Slowly, from top to bottom, like he’d only just realized I was standing there. His eyelids hung heavy over his sapphire blues as he licked my body with his eyes, drinking me in like he was thirsty.

No, not thirsty.

Hungry.

When he licked his lips I could have sworn he was about to eat me alive. I tingled all over. The awareness of him in such close proximity after so long washed over me. Angry or not, my body didn’t care. I didn’t care. I wanted to reach out and touch his face, reassure him that he had no reason to be angry, but part of me liked that I could draw that kind of reaction from him. He came alive when he was pissed, and something inside me loved that he became this primal possessive beast out to remind me who it was I belonged to.

Bear clenched his jaw and the muscles in his neck tensed and strained. He looked as if he were ready to either kill or fuck. All I knew was that, one way or another, I was about to de devoured.

I pressed my thighs together, trying to manage the pulsing between my legs, but the contact only ignited it further. Bear chuckled and glanced down to where my ankles were crossed. He closed the gap between us in two short strides, taking me off guard. I stumbled backward, tripping over a lose rock in the road. he reached out and roughly grabbed my arm before I could fall, pulling me flush into his hard chest. His warm skin radiated through my thin dress. I bit my lip, suppressing a moan. My legs grew weaker and weaker as he lowered his head, inching closer and closer, until I was sure his lips were going to meet mine, when without warning he released my arm and spun away. “Get in the fucking truck, Ti,” he called back to me.

I stood there, unable to move, and trying to catch my breath while he headed over to King’s truck like that moment never passed between us. When he noticed I wasn’t behind him he growled and stalked back over to me. He grabbed me by the waist, his fingers digging into my skin. He lifted me up, my short dress bunching up over my butt cheeks and slung me over his shoulder like I was a rolled up rug.

Wack.

He slapped my ass with his open palm. Hard. The bite of the smack stung where I was sure he’d left his mark. He tossed me into the truck with a caveman grunt and slammed the door behind me.

I was confused as all hell.

I was so angry.

I was also elated.

I was in lust so hard that I was in physical pain.

I was really fucking angry.

I was head over heels in love.

Motherfucker.

soulless pre-order [898890]

Bear & Thia’s epic finale releases on February 23rd!

PRE-ORDER SOULLESS NOW!

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SOULLESS TEASER 1 [898889]

Haven’t read this series yet?

Lawless

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About the Author:

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T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and young daughter. When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading, and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance. Well…it has a beach in it!

Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads

9 Letter by Blake Austin….Excerpt Reveal Blitz

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Excerpt

As soon as the word left my mouth, Rae’s face opened up and she was smiling over at me and it was like I was falling in towards her. When she was happy, I got vertigo. All those happy brain chemicals just took over and I was lost in bliss.

“Get out of my rescue, Luke Cawley,” she said.

“Will do,” I replied, scooping up King’s leash and opening the door again. But before we stepped out, Rae’s voice came after me.

“Hey Luke, you want to hook up sometime?” she asked. I turned around, probably looked startled. Sometimes I’m smooth, sometimes I’m not. “I mean, I could help you with King. At the dog park or something. You get a dog tired enough, he won’t rip up the house.”

She smiled. Clearly this was a professional courtesy she was extending, right? But I still couldn’t help feeling like it might do me and King both some good to see Rae again.

“I uh, lost your number,” I said. Sounded a lot nicer than ‘I threw it away while I was cleaning my house.’ I took out my phone. “I’ll just put it into my phone this time. Rae, right? What’s your last name?” I made a new contact.

“Goode,” she said.

I’d remember that. I didn’t have the best memory, but I remember what’s important. I decided I couldn’t let it be a sign, though. It was just a last name. Totally wasn’t a sign. I’m too grown up to believe in things like that.

          I tapped in her number, texted her so she had mine, then I reached down, pet King on the head once more, and left the shelter with my dog in tow, feeling pretty good after all was said and done.

9 letters coming soon [897892]

Meet Luke Crawley in Blake Austin’s debut novel of loss, redemption, and ever-enduring love releasing on February 24th!

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1ONI0Qf

Blurb

9 letters cover [897895]

Luke Cawley is a broken man. After his wife’s tragic death, he lost everything that mattered in the world. Now, his life is filled with hard days, harder nights, and a steady stream of alcohol and the wrong kind of women. Nothing helps.

Until the letters arrive on Luke’s doorstep.

Nine envelopes. Nine messages. Nine chances to find his way back.

Rae Goode is looking for the real thing. After fighting her way out of a string of bad relationships, she’s ready for something different–something true.

She meets Luke while piecing her life together, and right away she can tell that he’s different. Drawn together by fate and the desire to heal, Rae and Luke discover new ways to mend their broken hearts–one letter at a time.

Discover Blake Austin’s debut novel of loss, redemption, and ever-enduring love.

9 letters teaser 1 [897894]

For updates: Follow Blake Austin on Facebook here: http://on.fb.me/1ZUj6sR

 

Reign by M.N. Forgy….Excerpt Reveal

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EXCERPT

“Fuck you, Zeek! I am an officer of the law, and you!” I point at him, words starting to slur. “You’re a criminal, one everyone around here seems to pussyfoot around—”

“Everyone except you,” he interrupts. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he whispers, his head leaning back, eyes gleaming down at me. His question is laced with so many emotions, and I’m not sure how to answer.

Truth is, I am afraid of Zeek. I’m afraid of him for so many reasons.

“Who says I’m not? You’re a bad guy, Zeek,” I mutter. Citizens and law enforcement are conditioned to fear him, what he represents.

He steps forward, his hands slipping into his jeans pockets.

“I could be a good guy,” he whispers, looking at me as if he’s trying to tell me something.

reign teaser [275351]

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One bad biker. One gorgeous sheriff.

One intense biker romance.

Reign releases on January 27th!

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PRE-ORDER NOW!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1W0eSdq

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reign [275350]

Blurb

As the president of the Sin City Outlaw Motorcycle Club, l fuck as hard as I ride and rarely go to bed alone.

The women are fast and the violence is intense.

I excel in both.

People either respect me or fear me. I’m not arrogant. It’s just the truth.

I was a king, reigning over Vegas without complication, until one gorgeous sheriff made everything fall apart.

When I saw her, I became a Neanderthal, wanting nothing more than to be between those legs.

I guess that’s where I went wrong, because my reality was shot to hell real

fucking fast.

One kiss caused her to step over that blue line.

One night in her bed made me a traitor.

And now… we’re both screwed.

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**VIEW THE REIGN TRAILER HERE: https://vimeo.com/147954089 **

About the Author

 

m.n. forgy bio [275355]

M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

First Touch by Laurelin Paige…. Excerpt Blitz

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Now available for Pre-order!

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first touch cover [312101]

REEVE IS COMING!

Meet Reeve & Emily in First Touch releasing December 29th!

Blurb

When Emily Wayborn goes home to visit her mom while on hiatus from her hit TV show, she receives a voicemail from her former best friend, Amber. Though the two were once notorious party girls, they haven’t spoken in years. Although the message might sound benign to anyone else, Amber uses a safe word that Emily recognizes, a word they always used to get out of sticky situations during their wild days. And what’s more chilling than the voicemail: it turns out that Amber has gone missing.

Determined to track down her friend, Emily follows a chain of clues that lead her to the enigmatic billionaire Reeve Sallis, a hotelier known for his shady dealings and play boy reputation. Now, in order to find Amber, Emily must seduce Reeve to learn his secrets and discover the whereabouts of her friend. But as she finds herself more entangled with him, she finds she’s drawn to Reeve for more than just his connection to Amber, despite her growing fear that he may be the enemy. When she’s forced to choose where her loyalty lies, how will she decide between saving Amber and saving her heart?

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Excerpt

The first time I shared a man with Amber had been on my seventeenth birthday.

She’d been hanging around the neighborhood for the better part of the six months before that, and we’d become friends. We had the same taste in food and music and movies and, unlike the other girls we knew, we both preferred a line of coke to a bowl of weed. “Champagne taste,” Amber would say. “That’s us.”

Though we were both the same age, our lives had been very different. I’d go to school during the day, trying to pretend that my grades were salvageable as she’d watched The Home Shopping Network and ate Cheetos on the neighbor’s couch. Amber had dropped out of high school, and since she’d also runaway from home, no one was pushing her to go while graduation was the one thing my mother demanded of me.

I’d hated everything back then. School. My mother. My neighborhood. My body. Everything but Amber. She’d been fun. Sassy. Sexy. She was electric and electrifying and everything I wanted to be. And she cared for me. Maybe even loved me. If I had gone to a shrink they probably would have said that was why I latched onto her—that I thought of her as the mother mine had never been. I knew how screwed up everything seemed. But who could ever know why a person fell for another? I only knew that I had been dull and dim and that Amber made me less so.

She’d also had things I didn’t. Things that money bought. The clothes she wore were designer, her nails were always done. She’d lowered her panties once to show me her Brazilian. Whenever I’d asked how she paid for things, she’d always answered simply, “My uncle.” Even as we’d grown closer to each other that was all she’d tell me about the mysterious relative.

“For your birthday,” she’d said two days before, “I’ve got a surprise. Plan to spend the weekend with me.”

So that Friday, I slipped out of school early and met Amber at the bus station where she purchased two tickets to Santa Monica. Though I couldn’t get her to give me even a hint as to where we were going or what we were doing, I spent the two-hour bus ride buzzing with excitement. Whatever Amber had in mind, I knew without a doubt that this trip would be the beginning of the next phase of my life. I was ready. I was so ready.

Outside the station in Santa Monica, Amber bummed a smoke off a street musician and I scanned the street, taking in the sights of a place I’d never been. A red convertible parked nearby caught my attention, more specifically, the man leaning against it. He was older, maybe as old as my mother, but attractive. Not because he was all that good looking, exactly—though his body was definitely fit and trim—but because of what he exuded. Confidence. Assurance. Money. He drew my attention, and in the way that a restless, sexually charged young girl often did, I found myself wondering about him. What it would be like to kiss a man like him. What it would feel like to be beneath him. I’d had plenty of sex before. With boys from school. I’d yet to meet one who knew what he was doing, and though I would never have admitted it out loud, I was dying for it, thoughts of it never far from my mind.

When Amber followed the line of my sight, she dropped her cigarette with a squeal and exclaimed, “There he is, Em! Come on.”

“There who is?” I asked as she tugged me toward the very man I’d been staring at.

“My uncle!” After throwing her duffle bag into the back seat, she jumped into the man’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Then she proceeded to make out with him like I’d done on more than one occasion with the boys under the bleachers at school. Never out on a public street. Never with a man who had to shave everyday.

When they had finished their display and Amber was back on her feet again, she made introductions. “Rob this is Emily. Em, Rob.”

He may have said something to me. I didn’t really know because I’d been too busy staring at her, my jaw gaping.

“Oh, Emily, he’s not really my uncle,” she told me as she jumped into the passenger seat. “Get in.”

She’d misread the cause of my surprise. I grinned—only one of the many times I’d grin that day—and climbed in the backseat. If Amber hadn’t been the coolest person I’d ever met before that moment, she’d certainly proven herself now.

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About the Author:

laurelin paige [312102]

Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

STALK HER:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

THANK YOU!

First Touch by Laurelin Paige….Excerpt Reveal

first touch pre-order

       

Now available for Pre-order!

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first touch cover

REEVE IS COMING!  

Meet Reeve & Emily in First Touch releasing December 29th!

Blurb

When Emily Wayborn goes home to visit her mom while on hiatus from her hit TV show, she receives a voicemail from her former best friend, Amber. Though the two were once notorious party girls, they haven’t spoken in years. Although the message might sound benign to anyone else, Amber uses a safe word that Emily recognizes, a word they always used to get out of sticky situations during their wild days. And what’s more chilling than the voicemail: it turns out that Amber has gone missing.

Determined to track down her friend, Emily follows a chain of clues that lead her to the enigmatic billionaire Reeve Sallis, a hotelier known for his shady dealings and play boy reputation. Now, in order to find Amber, Emily must seduce Reeve to learn his secrets and discover the whereabouts of her friend. But as she finds herself more entangled with him, she finds she’s drawn to Reeve for more than just his connection to Amber, despite her growing fear that he may be the enemy. When she’s forced to choose where her loyalty lies, how will she decide between saving Amber and saving her heart?

first touch teaser 1

Excerpt

“I hope you’re nice and relaxed, Emily. Because we need to have a chat.”

Apprehension fluttered in my belly. Chatting was definitely not the direction I wanted to go in from here. Whatever he had to say, I couldn’t possibly listen. I was too agitated.

But without him spelling it out, I knew that was the terms of this arrangement. He’d touch me—in his way. And I’d listen, whether I wanted to or not.

So I propped myself up again and gave him as much of my attention as I could.

“It’s interesting,” he said, his thumbs doing that amazing thing on the bottom of my foot, “how people respond to you when they believe you’ve gotten away with murder.”

My stomach dropped. No speech that started with murder had a happy ending.

“Most people are frightened of you,” he said as his hand stroked up my shin. “They pull their business. They stop attending your events. They certainly won’t let themselves be seen with you. It’s not really anything to fret over, losing those connections. You don’t want cowards in your court. Good riddance to them.”

“I’m not a coward,” I managed to say defensively. Though I wasn’t sure why I was defending myself. Or why I was anxious that he might mean good riddance to me when that was probably exactly what I should be wishing he meant.

He glanced up at me, amusement in his features. “No, you’re not. You’re not scared. Or you’re not scared enough.”

I barely fought the shiver that begged to stutter through my body. It was a menacing statement, and I wanted to deny it as well. Tell him that I was definitely scared enough. But what the hell did that mean, anyway? Considering how turned on I was despite everything I’d learned about him, still turned on despite the foreboding in his tone, well, maybe he had a point. I really wasn’t scared enough.

The amusement transformed to what looked more like awe. Then his attention fell back to my leg and I couldn’t see his face well enough to read him. But after he pushed my ankle back so that my knee bent, his touch changed. A single finger traced the line of my inner thigh. Softly. Sweetly. Just as he got to where I so wanted him to go, he abruptly stopped. One second passed. Two.

Then he resumed the firm pressure from before, reclaiming his restraint. For now.

I could wait.

His speech continued, his voice firm, icy. “There are other people, too. Those that respect you. They aren’t necessarily your friends, because they’re also scared—probably even more so than those who keep their distance. They continue their financial support of your endeavors. They invite you to their parties. Their children’s weddings. They look out for you. Because, you see, they’re afraid that if they don’t…well.”

My heart hammered in my ears. Suddenly I was feeling vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with my nudity and all to do with the frailty of my size compared to the strength of his.

As if to prove that point, Reeve increased the pressure of his kneading, digging his fingers into the flesh of my thigh with a bite that sang and stung. “It’s a very intense form of power, actually. Much like having money. I’m sure you’ve gotten a taste of that with the recent success of your show. Imagine that but multiplied by a billion.”

“Mm hmm,” I said, a response that served as an answer though it was mostly an involuntary reaction to his hands. He’d reached the top of my limb again. Like before, the tips of his fingers brushed against my folds.

Goddammit, I was wet. And trembling. And overwrought with anticipation. This time, would he let his touch wander farther up? In?

His hands left me. He pushed my leg down, pulled the sheet back over my leg and pinned me with narrowed eyes. “It’s also not unlike the power of being a very attractive person. Another privilege that you understand.” He scanned the length of my body, the sheet still a barrier between us, and let out an audible breath. “I imagine you must understand it very well indeed.”

It was an accusation. The grit in his voice and the weight of his stare said so. Fucker. Whatever hopes I’d had for this whole scene of his, it was clear now that his intent was not friendly. Punishing, more like. I still wasn’t sure for what exactly. For being in his pool. For using my beauty to draw his interest. For coming onto him without his permission. I’d thought his humiliating body search had been all the reprimand I was getting. Guess I’d been wrong.

My eyes fell. However, a glance at his crotch gave me the slightest smidgeon of satisfaction. He was unmistakably hard. He might be punishing me, but he was punishing himself too.

first touch teaser 4

About the Author:

laurelin paige

Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

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first touch december 3rd

Break Even by Lisa DeJong…..Cover & Excerpt Reveal

Break Even by Lisa De Jong – Cover and Excerpt Reveal

Break Even-high

Release Date: December 27, 2015
Cover Designer: Mae I Design and Photography
Photo Credit: My MoJo Photo

Blurb:

My story isn’t a love story … not the typical kind anyway.
As a lawyer, I’m used to discovery, but I never saw this one coming.

Every day, River gives me ten reasons to stay away, and then eleven reasons why I can’t. Our relationship was to remain strictly business, or at least I tried.

Four years of marriage, and everything with Cole has changed. I never knew two people who lived together could be so distant. But I’m not ready to give up on him.

One man wants to break me.
The other is just trying to get even.

Both are lying to me.

Break Even-final

Excerpt

I ache to be touched … to feel wanted. His fingers reach mid-thigh, and I close my eyes. His fingertips circle my upper thigh, slowly inching my skirt up. Desire radiates. He caresses everywhere but there as I bite down on my lower lip to stifle a moan.
I’m pathetic. I imagine him touching me there. I imagine pulsing around his fingers. I imagine pulsing around him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, breaking me from my erotic dream.
The truth will come with consequences. He won’t let me forget my next word.
“You,” I breathe, still feeling the physical effects of his touch.
His finger slides along my panties. “Do you want me to touch you here? I’d fuck you for hours, beautiful, and when I was done, no one else would ever be enough.”
“River,” I moan, his finger tracing the line of lace.
“I’d show you heaven and hell all in one night. Is that what you want, Marley? Do you want me to fuck you?”
I grip the door handle like it’s my lifeline, unable to speak. Instead, I open my eyes and stare at his profile. There’s so much I don’t know about River, but for some damn reason I need him.
He’s a magnet.
I’m nickel.
He wants me.
I need to feel wanted.
Days of loneliness, and he’s filled each one.
He stops along the side of a quiet street, pouring rain now making it impossible to see more than a few inches in front of the car.
It’s too hot. I feel too much … too much desire … too much guilt. It whirls until I can’t take it.

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Tough Enough by M. Leighton….. Excerpt Blitz

cooltext144169227680732cooltext144169437322481 (1)Oct 16, 2015

cooltext144169544576667

 

I hear a racy rumble come roaring down my street, getting louder as it approaches. My heart thunders along at a somewhat similar cadence, like the noise alone triggered my internal throttle. No, I don’t know that to be Rogan on his way to pick me up, but then again, yes, I absolutely do. Somehow it sounds like him. I’m already getting a mental picture, even though I’m still sitting on my couch. He told me he might show me what he chooses to drive. Something tells me he’s about to.

When the throbbing engine reaches its peak and then dies right outside, I leap up from my seat and run to the window. My insides twist and slither like a clutch of snakes when I see what’s parked outside. A black-and-silver machine, reading Ducati along the shiny gas tank, rests along the curb. And on its back is Rogan.

Even with his head covered by a matching helmet, I recognize him. I recognize his body and his body language. I recognize the way I respond to him. Even when I don’t want to.

He’s wearing a snug white T-shirt and ratty blue jeans. Nothing that would identify him. It’s the way he wears his clothes, the way the fabrics hug his lithe form, even the way he sits on the bike, like he is one with a wild, untamable animal, that is uniquely Rogan.

When he pulls off his helmet, I’m aware of two things. One, that his hair sticks up all over his head in blond spikes that make my fingers itch to touch. And two, that his eyes are on mine. All the way across the yard and through the sheer curtains that cover the glass of the window, they’re trained on mine. I can feel it. It’s like he knows I’m looking at him, like he can feel it, too. And that he honed in on it, on me. Instinctively. It sounds completely insane, but I don’t doubt it. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt him watching me. And it only gets more and more disconcerting.

For a few seconds, he just stares at me. He’s not smiling; he’s just straddling his bike, holding his helmet between his big, strong hands. The intensity of his gaze burns along my nerve ends, causing me to feel both terrified and excited all at once. It also makes me wonder why I agreed to this. I’m not entirely sure I can be trusted around him. He makes me forget. And that’s dangerous.

Finally, his face breaks into a breathtaking smile and I jump away from the window. I keep backing away until I’m safely ensconced in the shadows on the opposite side of the room. I pull in several gulps of air, fanning my flaming face with my nervous hands. I wait impatiently for the moment when he’ll knock and I’ll be face-to-face with what could end up being a nightmare for me.

But he could end up being a dream for you, too

Oct 9, 2015

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Tough Enough by M. Leighton…. Excerpt Blitz

 

cooltext144169227680732cooltext144169437322481 (1)Teaser

cooltext144169544576667

She gets all fidgety and nervous and adorable under my scrutiny, so I release her. Albeit reluctantly.

“So, a minivan,” she says, dropping her eyes and clearing her throat. I love that I put her off balance. I doubt much gets under this girl’s skin and I’m happy as hell that I appear to be making my way in, slowly but surely.

“A minivan,” I confirm, raising the wine bottle and glass questioningly.

“Oh, sorry. Kitchen’s through there.” Katie points to the most obvious doorway and I head in that direction. She follows after a few seconds. When I stop at the small island, she breezes past me, setting down the glass that I brought her and keeping her face averted. Makes me think she might be blushing again. After she rummages through a drawer for another minute, she turns her composed self back to me, a corkscrew in one hand. “There has to be a story behind it.”

“Behind what?” I ask, content to just watch her rather than talk. Or think.

Her grin is more pronounced this time. “Behind the minivan.”

“Oh, right. The minivan. I have a brother who came with me. He’s handicapped. I dropped him off at the gym on the way to the park.”

Her expression softens. Visibly. “Y-you have a handicapped brother?”

“I do.”

“And you . . . you take him places with you? You take care of him?”

I shrug. “Well, I don’t know about that. I mean, he’s grown, so . . .”

“Does he live with you?”

“For the most part.”

“That’s . . . that’s . . .” Katie is looking at me like she’s just now seeing me. Really seeing me. After several seconds, she glances down at the counter, at the glasses she’s arranging in a straight line with the bottle of red. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“I’m sure he does, but like most guys, he’s got a piss-poor way of showing it.”

“Just like a damn man,” she says softly, glancing up at me from beneath her lashes, the hint of a playful smile still curving her lips.

“Bastards,” I reply.

Her eyes sparkle up at me and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to haul her into my arms and kiss her senseless. Which might take a while. She’s got plenty of sense about her. Too much, maybe.

After a minute, when the temperature in the little kitchen is rising noticeably, Katie clears her throat again, pulling that swath of rich auburn hair over her shoulder like I’ve seen her do before. “So what is it that you drive when you’re not carting your brother around?”

“Maybe if you’re nice to me I’ll show you one day.”

She grunts indignantly, her lips parting yet still curved. “I’m always nice to you.”

“But you could be nicer,” I tell her with a half-grin.

She raises one dark brow, the sexiest damn thing I think I’ve ever seen on a woman. Besides her licking the corner of her mouth when she’s concentrating or nervous, that is. “And just how . . . nice are you expecting me to be?”

“Not that nice,” I answer. “Unless you just want to be that nice. I would never argue if you wanted to be extra, extra, extra nice to me.”

I give her my widest, most innocent smile. She laughs outright, an action that fills the kitchen with a delicate tinkle and turns her face from beautiful to breathtaking. A display like this from her is pretty rare, so pulling it out of her makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery.

“Do that again,” I request quietly, so drawn to her that I can’t stop myself from moving closer, from reaching out, from touching.

“Do what again?” she asks. When I cup her silky cheek in my palm, she straightens, but she doesn’t back away. A good sign.

“Laugh.”

“I can’t laugh on command,” she explains, her eyes flickering up to mine and away, up to mine and away.

“I swear to God, I think I’d do just about anything to hear that again, to see your face light up like that.”

My thumb blindly stroking the crest of her high cheekbone, I catch and hold her eyes this time. They’re like melted sapphires, a fathomless liquid that I could easily let myself drown in.

Katie’s lips open and close a couple of times, like she’s trying to find words where there are none. But the time for talk is over. I feel like I’ve waited patiently for an eternity to taste, and now it’s time for my reward.

Slowly, I bend my face toward hers, hoping she won’t move away, praying that she won’t stop me. “You’ve been on my mind since the first day I saw you, Beautiful Katie. It’s time you give me the answer to a question that’s been haunting me for weeks.”

I can feel the sweet, shallow puffs of her breath fanning my lips as I get closer. “W-what’s that?”

“Do your lips taste like cotton candy?”

“How would I know?” she asks a bit dazedly.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll tell you.”

I bring my other hand up to hold her face still as I brush my mouth over hers. When she doesn’t move away, doesn’t push me away, I sink into her lips like I might sink into a bed made of marshmallows. Sweet, plump, light-as-air marshmallows. And, God help me, Katie sinks right back.

 

Oct 5, 2015

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The Fall Up by Aly Martinez…Excerpt Reveal Stop

the fall up excerpt reveal

the fall up cover ebook

 

Add The Fall Up  to your TBR list on Goodreads!

http://bit.ly/1LjdGAD

RELEASE DATE: October 26th

 

I wanted to jump.

He made me fall.

As a celebrity, I lived in the public eye, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself in the spotlight.

Until he found me.

Sam Rivers was a gorgeous, tattooed stranger who saved my life with nothing more than a simple conversation.

But we were both standing on that bridge for a reason the night we met. The secrets of our pasts brought us together—and then tore us apart.

Could we find a reason to hold on as life constantly pulled us down?

Or maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall in love at rock bottom—up.

 

the fall up teaser 2

Chapter One

Levee

It was raining. Isn’t that the way all great love stories start? And also usually end? The midnight air was cool against my skin as I stared off that bridge. My blond wig was secured in place by a headband, and chunky sunglasses covered my whiskey-colored eyes. I didn’t look like myself any more than I felt it. Bruises from the night before painted my legs while fresh scabs covered my knees, but it was the hollowness in my chest that hurt the most.

Yep. Still me.

Which was exactly why I was standing on that bridge, wishing for the mental fortitude to hurl myself off.

A man’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You finally gonna do it tonight?”

I instinctually smoothed my fake hair down and pressed the bridge of my glasses closer to my face, sealing out any possible glance he could catch. I stared ahead as I snapped, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen you here three nights in a row now. I was just wondering if tonight was going to be the night you finally jump.”

My eyes flashed wide, but since they were covered by the dark glasses, my reaction remained hidden. “I just like the view. That’s all.” What a load of shit.

I watched him nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah me too. It’s gorgeous up here.”

Shuffling my feet to the side, I attempted to slip away as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered it my way.

“You want one?”

I shook my head and then crept down a few inches to put distance between us.

“Suit yourself.” He used a hand to shield the lighter from the wind, but the constant sprinkle of rain made his task impossible. “Damn it,” he cursed with the cigarette tucked between his lips. “Little help?” he asked, swinging his gaze to mine.

Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “With what?”

“It’s raining…and windy…and I’m trying to burn one.” He tilted his head, equally as incredulous.

“You want me to call God? We had a bad breakup recently, but he might be willing to do me one last favor.”

He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. What’s the big guy’s response time like these days? Last time we spoke, it was”—he paused to look at his watch—“oh, twenty-seven years.”

A soft laugh bubbled from my throat, and one side of his mouth lifted in a gorgeous grin.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to wait that long, so maybe you could just block the wind with your body?” His smile spread as he stepped toward me, forcing my gaze to nervously bounce away.

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. Lung cancer and I broke up too.” After gathering the back of my wig into a ponytail, I pulled it over my shoulder and turned away from him. The chill of the wind blasted my face and roared over my ears as it rushed past me.

I went back to staring out at the dark, choppy water, becoming lost in the idea of how cold it might be.

Is tonight the night?

No.

My feet would more than likely never leave the edge of that bridge, but there was a definite reason why I was imagining ending it all. Exactly zero other people in the world would understand why. I had it all, and I dreamed about losing it all—more often than I would ever admit, even to myself.

After stepping out of my heels, I slipped my foot between the bars on the railing. The wind slammed my bruised leg against the metal. “Shit,” I hissed as pain shot through me.

“You think that hurts? Imagine falling twenty-five stories then crashing into the water, which might as well be concrete, at speeds upward of seventy miles per hour,” the man said, leaning on the metal railing next to me.

“Wow. Someone’s done some research,” I said sarcastically, barely sparing him a glance.

“Daily,” he responded frankly, causing my surprised gaze to swing to his. Simply shrugging at my reaction, he turned his back to the railing and propped himself up on his colorfully tattooed forearms. “You forget I’ve been here the last three nights in a row too.” He smirked, lifting the cigarette up to his lips for a deep inhale.

“Listen, I’m not going to jump if you’re some kind of caped crusader on a mission. I just needed some fresh air.” I pointedly glanced at his cigarette.

A laugh escaped his mouth in a grey puff. “Fresh air is overrated. Especially given the reason you’re standing here.” He knowingly arched a dark-brown eyebrow.

“Riiiiight,” I drawled, rolling my eyes behind my glasses. “Okay, well, I was just heading out anyway.”

“Then my work here is done.” He bowed, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a smile as I stepped back into my shoes and walked away.

I shook my head at the random stranger. Then, a thought struck me, stopping me only a few feet away. Spinning back to face him, I asked, “Wait. Were you reaching out to me as a cry for help?”

“Oh look. Designer Shoes has a conscience!” He dropped his cigarette to the damp ground, stepping on it with the toe of his well-worn, black boots. Bending over, he picked the butt up and tucked it in his pocket.

At least he didn’t litter.

“Oh look. Tattooed Stalker has jokes!” I smarted back.

He smiled, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and then pausing just before guiding it between his lips. “Were you judging me based on my tattoos? I’m offended.” He feigned anguish then laughed while lifting his lighter to once again battle the wind for a nicotine fix.

I wanted to walk away, but he wasn’t wrong. I did have a conscience, and right then, I was worried that it might really be his night to make good on his apparent numerous visits to the bridge.

With a huff, I headed back towards him, praying that I could wrap it up as quickly as possible then head back to my house for a few hours of sleep. Or, more likely, lie awake while staring at the ceiling and crying.

“Are you planning to jump for real?” I asked.

His smile fell as he focused on the water. “Nah. I don’t have the balls to do something like that. Talking to you wasn’t a plea for help or anything. You just look worse than usual tonight.” His gaze slid down to my battered legs.

“Oh!” I exclaimed in understanding. “That’s not at all what you’re thinking. I fell down some stairs.”

He quirked his lips in disbelief.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he told the wind. “You can go. I’m good.”

I could have walked away, but for some reason, I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders and silently stood there while he finished his cigarette.

After a final deep inhale, he flicked it over the railing of the bridge.

Apparently, he does litter.

Turning to me, his face became serious. “You need to call the cops before he makes the decision to end it all for you.”

“Who?” I asked, watching the burning ember hit the metal column then explode in a million different sparks before disappearing down to the water below.

Lucky cigarette.

“The stairs…and whatever inanimate object you’re blaming for those bruises you’re hiding behind sunglasses at one in the morning. You should call the cops before…” His voice trailed off, but his dark gaze narrowed on mine. His eyes bored into my hidden stare, combining with the rain and wind to send chills down my spine.

I took the moment to secretly assess him. He was insanely sexy, but nothing like the men I was accustomed to. His chin was the kind of scruffy that made women weak, but it was obvious he didn’t pay four hundred dollars for his personal hairstylist to shape it. Judging by his shaggy, brown hair that begged for me to thread my fingers in it, I wasn’t sure he was even a barbershop kind of guy. He stood a few inches taller than I was in heels, so I pegged him at around six one. And while his tattooed forearms were deliciously sculpted and his shoulders were notably defined, his body didn’t appear to be swollen with muscles from hours spent at the gym. By the aura of bad boy he gave off, I would have expected him to be a self-consumed, arrogant prick.

He wasn’t though.

He was just an average guy worrying about the well-being of an average girl.

Only he couldn’t have been more wrong, and a pang of guilt hit me hard.

Just not hard enough for me to do anything to correct his assumptions about who I was.

Very softly, I attempted to put his fears to rest. “I promise it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Okay,” he responded, unconvinced. He nodded to himself before dragging another cigarette from his pocket.

I watched him struggle for a second before I scooted towards him, using my body to block the wind.

Biting the cigarette between his straight, white teeth, he smiled devilishly around it. “Thanks.” Flicking the flame to life, he hunched over until a stream of smoke swirled up from the red tip.

“You should stop smoking.”

“Noted.” He exhaled through his nose.

We went back to silently staring over the side of the bridge. The familiar lights of the San Francisco skyline danced all around us. And, even as tourists and locals alike passed by us, I felt an odd, and unbelievably comfortable, isolation standing there with him.

When my teeth began to chatter, his attention was drawn my way. “I’m not here to jump. You really can go.”

I nodded but didn’t move away.

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his biceps for warmth.

“How are you not frozen?” I asked, taking in his thin Henley for the first time since we met.

Shrugging, he dropped his cigarette, answering as he bent to retrieve it. “Thick skin? I’m used to it? I come here a lot? I’m half Eskimo?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“Fucking. Freezing,” he admitted, tucking his arms close to his body and blowing into his hands. “I just came up here for one smoke. Then I saw you. Now, come on. Be a lady and loan a man a jacket,” he joked, tugging on the edge of my coat.

I laughed, hugging it even tighter around my body and stepping out of his reach. “How about we both just leave? Then neither of us have to worry about the other plummeting to their death.”

“Sounds like an amazing plan.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the tattered jeans riding low on his hips. As we began the hike back down to the foot of the bridge, he asked, “You have a name, Designer Shoes?”

I smiled and shook my head, not willing to lie—or divulge the truth.

“Yeah. Me either,” he replied.

I bit my bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Side by side, we trudged the rest of the way in silence.

When we got to the foot of the bridge, he turned to face me and sighed. “Well, I genuinely hope I never see you again.”

My head snapped back in shock, and maybe a little hurt.

But he quickly corrected himself. “No! I just mean… Shit.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair while I watched, amused. “I just mean, given the way we met… I…um. I hope you never have a reason to go back up there.”

I teasingly tipped my head to the side. “But I really like the view.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Of course, the view. Okay, well, have a good night.”

“You too.” I smiled tightly, but my feet didn’t budge. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want him to see my car or the bodyguard waiting for me behind the wheel. But, in reality, I just wasn’t ready to leave. Home wasn’t where I wanted to be. I didn’t actually want to be anywhere.

Not even standing at the foot of a bridge, talking to a witty and sexy man.

Okay, maybe I wanted that a little bit.

“Yep. Have a good night,” he repeated, shoving his hands inside his pockets and slowly backing away.

I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before he jogged in the other direction.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head at the entire interaction—secretly lamenting that it hadn’t been longer.

 

 

Sensual woman kissing her handsome husband

 

About the Author:

aly martinezAly Martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

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