Tempting Justice by Fiona Archer…Release Boost

 

 

Title: Tempting Justice
Series: Sons of Sydney #2
Authors: Fiona Archer
Genre: Erotic Romance/Romantic Suspense
 Release Date: April 18, 2017
Blurb
He’s
sworn to uphold the law
His reckless behavior as a child caused the deaths of his entire
family. On the lonely Sydney streets, the orphan found friends. Found
“brothers.” Never again will Seattle Homicide Detective Heath Justice break the
rules and risk his new family. Order and discipline govern his life…until he
meets a curvaceous redhead. With two ugly murder cases to solve, the last thing
he needs is this disconcertingly lovely, whirlwind of chaos, yet…charmed by her
wit and intelligence, Heath can’t resist.
She
believes rules are meant to be broken
Deep into writing a murder mystery, author London Shaw is shocked when
she herself is implicated in a homicide. She can’t believe the
ever-so-authoritarian Detective Heath Justice expects her to simply ignore the
crime and go on about her business. Not happening.  Although the man’s whiskey rough voice,
cuffs, and masterful touch could melt any woman’s resistance—and does—she has a
craving to do a little investigating herself.
When all
or nothing is your only play
When Heath’s murder investigation threatens a far-reaching conspiracy,
everyone he cares for becomes their target—including the woman he’s come to
love.
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
Heath had grabbed the flask from the SUV’s back seat when he glimpsed a figure through the rear window. A woman, wearing a blue hoodie and black sweatpants walked to the edge of Derek’s driveway and gazed at the house’s front door. A few seconds later, she began walking swiftly down the driveway, constantly checking the front door.Was she worried about being seen? A possible intruder?

Since he’d parked closer to the house further on from Derek’s parents’ property, the woman hadn’t spotted him. Heath replaced the flask on the backseat and gently pushed the back passenger door nearly closed. He waited until she had disappeared behind the side of the house before following.

Careful not to make noise, he followed the woman down the driveway and watched as she stopped in front of a side door to the garage, which was separate from the house. With her back to Heath, she pulled something from her pocket and tried to jimmy the door’s lock.

The woman glanced toward the back of the house, likely checking to see if she’d been spotted, then continued her efforts with the lock. A soft hiss and a “dammit” indicated her efforts were unsuccessful.

Heath also couldn’t miss the curvy shape of her figure outlined so well by the soft black material hugging her gorgeous arse. One shown off to perfection as she bent to look closer at the lock.

A tiny squeak of joy, followed by her opening the door, signaled the possible intruder had crossed a line. It seemed such a shame to stop his fun. Nevertheless, duty called…

Heath pulled out his 9mm from his shoulder holster and held it out in front of him as he moved forward. “Police! Put your hands on your head and step away from the door.”

The woman let out a high squeak, dropped the lock pick, and spun around, eyes wide. Her mouth formed an “O” at the sight of his weapon. “Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness.” She covered her mouth with both hands before waving them in front of her, palms facing Heath. “It’s not what you think. Honestly.” Her gaze snapped to her left in the direction of the back of the house as if she expected someone to come out any moment.

“I said, hands on your head.” Heath commanded, satisfied when the woman immediately obeyed. “Come forward, turn around, and face the garage door.” He saw her close her eyes in defeat before she obeyed. Heath grabbed his cuffs and shoved his weapon back in the holster. With efficient moves, he had her wrists secured behind her.

“Officer, I can explain.” She sighed. “I mean, I know everyone says that, but really, nothing illegal’s happening here.”

“Good to know.” He pulled her jacket’s hood from her head. Red hair. No, the description didn’t do the color justice, but he only knew guyspeak, which would have to suffice to explain the bursts of deeper red in amongst the lighter strands, all held in a ponytail.

Heath patted down his suspect. No weapons. And he’d have to be dead not to notice the way his hands fit over her hips, the roundness of her arse. He wasn’t a sleaze, not by any means, but he appreciated a woman’s body like any man.

Taking her arm in a firm grip, he turned his suspect around.

Green eyes framed with long, thick lashes blinked up at him. “When I say nothing illegal, I mean it depends on your point of view.”

“My point of view is as a cop, which doesn’t leave a lot of leeway on a range of subjects.”

She frowned at him, as if he was being unreasonable. “That’s a rather rigid stance. Not everything is black and white.”

Heath wasn’t prepared to debate the point. “Your disappointment is noted. Now—”

“Hey, I’m sure you’re a busy guy. And, uh,”—she licked her lips—“you need to go protect the community. That’s an important role. Absolutely. So, you know—” She broke off. “Shoo. Anyway, we can put a line under this and start the day over.”

Despite her opinion of his so-called inflexible outlook on life, he couldn’t help answering. “We can, huh?”

“Totally.” She nodded, sending her ponytail bobbing.

Keeping hold of her arm, Heath looked down at her black canvas tennis shoes to hide his mouth twitching.

It was a safe bet the young woman wasn’t a hardened criminal. But whatever the hell she was up to, he aimed to find out. First he needed to phone Derek.

“Do you know the owners of this house?”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew huge in her face. “You don’t have to get them,” she rushed out.

“Oh, but I do.” He went to pull out his phone from his back pocket, and the woman jerked against his grip. She would have toppled over if not for him keeping his hold.

Oh, no, sweetheart.

He tightened his grip, reinforcing her captivity and moved closer, towering over her. “Lady, you could have hurt yourself.” The safety of suspects was important, and the thought of the little redhead causing herself harm propelled his alpha instincts center stage. “Resist once more, and I’ll use my belt to hogtie you.”

She drew in a sharp breath. What he didn’t see was fear. Not in her eyes or the way a blush stained the cool-toned white skin of her face. And swear to God, he felt her body soften against him.

An image of her hogtied flashed through his mind. Only she wouldn’t be in this driveway, but in his bed. Lying on his sheets. Her glorious long red hair spread over his pillow.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Heath looked over his shoulder. Derek stood at the side of the house, his hands jammed on his hips.

Dammit,” came from his suspect.

A look best described as misery—from the closed eyes and turned down mouth—covered her face.

“I caught a suspect attempting to break into your parents’ garage.”

Derek gave a dry laugh. “I’ve no doubt she’s up to something, but that’s no suspect.” He strode up the driveway, his frown reserved for the woman at Heath’s side. “Meet London, my baby sister.”

Heath swung his gaze to…Derek’s sister?

Those eyes, so wide and shocked before, were now narrowed with the promise of rebellion, even as she stood there—in his cuffs.

Ah. So bravado was her chosen defense.

Heath remembered the sweet color of her blush at his earlier threat of hogtying her.

Lightning might strike him down any second, but the woman intrigued him, even knowing she was Derek’s sister. The knowledge he didn’t have to call for a cruiser to take her to booking added a new dimension to the proceedings. Anticipation flowed through Heath. He was going to enjoy this visit, and for way more than pancakes.

Time for his prisoner to confess all.

Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
Fiona Archer writes erotic romance filled with masterful Aussie alpha heroes and teams them with sassy heroines who limit their submissive side to the bedroom. She lives in sunny environs of Sydney, Australia, and is harassed by a flock of wild cockatoos that take over the back yard each afternoon, demanding their feed. Her favorite hobbies include watching Nathan Fillion on television, shopping for that ever-elusive perfect shade of lipstick, and drinking iced coffee.
Author Links

Cover Reveal…A Force of Nature Fairytale Series by M.A. Horst

 

A Force of Nature Fairytale Series
Author: M.A. Horst
Genre: Standalone Erotic Romance
Release Dates: May/June 2017

 

Series Blurb
One man’s promise to another binds his future Flower grandchildren to the Royal Family.One by one a Flower will be claimed by a Royal.

The Royal family is a force of nature to be reckoned with, but have they finally met their match?

The Royal men are domineering, brute and fierce until they lay eyes on a Flower woman. Then nothing can stop them from claiming what’s rightfully theirs.

Fire Royal is the only female Royal amongst a sea of formidable Royal men, but she won’t let this keep her down. This is one woman who will never bow before a man, until she meets Reed Flower – the last of the Flower family to be claimed. 

Warning: Seven short, over the top, insta-love, hot as hell fairytales with a twist of kinkiness. 

Each book in The Force of Nature series is standalone & about a different couple.

 
Poppy
Release Date: May 8, 2017
Storm, the eldest
son of a heartless businessman is forced to choose a bride. His father wants
grandchildren to secure the future of Royal Industries, and he wants them
now. 
Forced to choose
from a specific list of women that’s been promised to the Royal family, Storm
holds a masked ball and invites the six women.

Poppy has lived a
sheltered life. She has been homeschooled by her overprotective mother.
Attending the masked ball is an exciting experience for her until she lands in
the arms of Storm Royal. Electricity crackles around them.

Poppy’s delicate new love is shattered when she finds out why Storm really
wants to marry her. She’s only a means to an end, another piece of property.
Can Storm win
Poppy’s trust while trying to keep his fiery desire for her under control?
This is one force
of nature Poppy didn’t see coming.
Lily
Release Date: May 15, 2017
Lily has been born into
wealth, and with that comes a certain responsibility. She has been promised to
Hail, who has just taken over Royal Industries along with his brothers and
cousins. The Royal family screams power and money and they’ll destroy anyone
who stands in their way of acquiring more.
Hail is more forceful and
unyielding than the preppy son of a greedy bastard Lily took him for.
Everything about him is dominant. When his eyes lock with hers sparks fly instantly.
Lily belongs to Hail and there’s nothing she can do but honor her grandfather’s
promise.

Just one look at Lily and
Hail is determined to own her in every way. He doesn’t want her obedience just
because she’s honoring a promise. He wants her obedience because she craves to
please him.

The force of nature might just be too much for the delicate Lily.

 

Rose
Release Date: May 22, 2017
Rose is more thorns than
the flowery beauty people take her for. When she hears that she’s been promised
to Lake Royal, an arrogant bastard, she turns prickly.
Lake might be known as
the family player but he has a more serious side that comes out when he sets
his sights on something he really wants. Lake wants Rose with a burning
passion. He wants to own her and tame her. There’s nothing more Lake likes than
a good challenge.
Rose hates that Lake can
make her burn up with just a touch.
How long will Rose be
able to fight of the force of nature that’s Lake Royal?

 

 

Magnolia
Release Date: May 29, 2017
When Rain pictures
innocence, he imagines a hot body in a school uniform.
Magnolia Flower is
anything but. Her clothes are always a size to big and you won’t find her dead
in a dress. Her hair’s a mess that she hides behind.
It only takes one
flick of Magnolia’s warm brown eyes to bring Rain to his knees.
Rain decides he’s
tired of playing the waiting game and he claims what’s rightfully his. Magnolia
will be his, body, mind and soul.
Can a delicate
flower keep a force of nature like Rain on his knees?

 

Jasmine
Release Date: June 5, 2017
River Royal is like a bloodhound, once
he gets the scent of a woman he wants, there’s no stopping him. He lives for
the thrill of hunting and conquering.
Jasmine Flower is determined to make it
on her own in the business world. She’s offered a job by River, and even though
all her senses are on high alert, she agrees. The money is amazing and it will
go a long way to helping her get on her own feet.
On her first day of work River informs
her that he’s laying claim to the promise her grandfather made to his. She’ll
be his in every way.
It might not be the job Jasmine applied
for, but she likes it, so why not?
Has this force of nature finally met his
match?

 

Cherry
Release Date: June 12, 2017
It’s Cherry Flower’s first day at her first job. All she wants to do is make enough money so she can leave home which has become hell.Everything changes when she literally falls into Tide Royal’s arms.

Tide is the most successful out of all his brothers and cousins. Everything he touches turns to gold. He’s never felt a burning passion for anything in his life … until Cherry. Tide rarely laughs and always keeps to himself. He wants nothing to do with the list of women promised to his family until he finds out that Cherry is the last woman left. It’s between him and his cousin Stone – who will get Cherry?

Tide can’t keep himself from feeling protective of Cherry. An overwhelming desire burns through his veins and he’ll stop at nothing to make Cherry his.

Will this force of nature win the heart of the last flower?

Reed
Release Date: June 19, 2017
Young Reed Flower gets a job as a
security guard, working the nightshift at the reception counter of Royal
Industries.  The powerful and sexy CEO,
Fire Royal, is beautiful and mysterious. She’s worked hard to earn herself the
nickname ‘The Ice Queen’ in order to keep gold-digging men at a distance.
Fire keeps playing with him – a game of
cat and mouse. She has no intention of ever being the mouse. Unable to resist
Reed’s dangerous good looks and inexperience, Fire admits she wants him and
employs him as her personal bodyguard. When she finds out just how innocent Reed
is, she wants to be his first. She wants to shape him into a lover that will
obey her every command. 
Reed is shocked to find that he’ll do
anything to win Fire’s trust, but she’s a woman with dark secrets.

Will Reed give himself over to Fire and
explore the darker side of love or will this force of nature be the end of him?

 

Author Bio

International bestselling author of Predator, The Monster Series and many others. She loves writing anything from Young Adult to Suspense Romance.

Author Links

Deadly Silence by Rececca Zanetti….Release Day Blitz & Review

DEADLY SILENCE

ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: DEADLY SILENCE

Author: Rebecca Zanetti

Series: Blood Brothers, #1

On Sale: April 25, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Mass Market: $7.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD

Add to Goodreads

**NOW AVAILABLE IN MASS MARKET**

The first book in a breathtaking new romantic suspense series that will appeal to fans of New York Times bestsellers Maya Banks, Lisa Gardner, and Lisa Jackson.

Under siege. That’s how Ryker Jones feels. The Lost Bastards Investigative Agency he opened up with his blood brothers has lost a client in a brutal way. The past he can’t outrun is resurfacing, threatening to drag him down in the undertow. And the beautiful woman he’s been trying to keep at arm’s length is in danger…and he’ll destroy anything and anyone to keep her safe.

Paralegal Zara Remington is in over her head. She’s making risky moves at work by day and indulging in an affair with a darkly dangerous PI by night. There’s a lot Ryker isn’t telling her and the more she uncovers, the less she wants to know. But when all hell breaks loose, Ryker may be the only one to save her. If his past doesn’t catch up to them first…

Full of twists and turns you won’t see coming, DEADLY SILENCE is New York Times bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti at her suspenseful best.

**THE PRINT EDITION CONTAINS EXTRA BONUS SCENES NOT AVAILABLE ANYWHERE ELSE!**

BUY THE BOOK HERE

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Also available in-stores at Walmart!

This is my first book by Rebecca and wow – she blew me away!!! I hadn’t realized when I read this book that it was a spinoff from another of Rebecca’s books. Honestly, you don’t need to read the others books to understand what’s going on in this book, but I am curious to a few certain things that I am sure are answered in the other books.

Deadly Silence is a romantic suspense, which is one of my favorite genres to read. This book is about Ryker and Zara and his brothers play strong secondary characters in it.

Life, not genetics, had made them family… 

Ryker is Private Investigator and ends up working Zara’s law firm; she’s a paralegal. But their relationship started off before that with some casual dating. Ryker told her from the beginning that it was just casual and she’s smart enough that she knows that’s where their relationship needs to stay. She also knows that she probably shouldn’t be involved with him at all. And then HE wants to try for more…..

“Casual sex doesn’t work for me any longer.”
“There ain’t nothin’ casual about our sex, and you know it.”

Rebecca writes some really strong characters. Ryker is all alpha and very protective and dominant. He’s very demanding and has his own dark past shadowing him at all times. Zara fights for what she knows it right and has no problem standing up to Ryker herself. But she also knows when to back off too.

The safest place for her was with him, yet it was also the most dangerous to her heart.

This book has the perfect blend of hot and steamy mixed with action and suspense – both have you on the edge of your seat while reading. I couldn’t put it down once I started. If you enjoy strong alpha characters and heroines who are strong in their own right, then this is the book for you.

Bring on Book #2 – Lethal Lies!!

EXCERPT

 

Heat from his body washed over her, but she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “We don’t have a relationship.”

He smiled then, and the curve of his lips held more determination than amusement. “I’m not letting you run, and I’m certainly not letting you hide, baby. Although neither of us has been in this for the long haul, I’m staying in Wyoming for the moment. The first thing that’s going to happen is I’m going to figure out who dared put a hand on you and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

For the first time, she saw a side of him that gave her true pause. In the long haul, he’d be unbearably possessive. Why did that give her an intriguing sense of safety? “Knock it off,” she snapped in his face. “Get out of my business.”

That quickly, she found her back against the door and her front pinned by hard male. His hands planted on either side of her neck, his thumbs at her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Something you need to understand and pretty damn quick is that your business is my business right now.” His thumb swept up and over the offensive bruise on her face.

“Step back.” Her voice trembled.

He ignored the very calm order. “No. You don’t want to tell me who did this? Fine. I’ll find out on my own, and I’ll have the name by the time I pick you up for supper. What you don’t want to do is deal with him or his case until I have that name. Kicking him in the balls might’ve just pissed him off more, and now you’ve let a bully stew on it for a while, which might be dangerous for you. Got it?”

“You have no right to interfere,” she whispered.

“Baby, I’ve been fuckin’ you for months. That gives me every right.” Anger glowed dark in his eyes.

“We’re done. Get out.”

His eyes softened. “You shouldn’t make statements you can’t back up.”

She shoved against his ripped abs.

He didn’t move a millimeter.

And then he did.

His head dipped, and his mouth found her neck and wandered up to her ear. His teeth scraped, and then his tongue licked the slight wound.

Of its own volition, her body did a full tremble.

He leaned back. “That.”

Her mind fuzzed.

His mouth slammed down on hers. She knew his kiss—often dreamed about it. Not soft and sweet . . . not even lustful. It was dangerous. From day one, she’d tasted danger on his tongue, and it burned her hotter than she’d ever been.

Never had she dated a bad boy, but after living her desired routine-driven life for years, she’d craved adventure, and he filled that need. He drew out a wildness she hadn’t realized she possessed.

He held her flush against the door, kissing her hard, sending a craving along her nerves that almost hurt. His tongue went to work, his left hand keeping her jaw open for him. His right hand found her hip and dragged her against the obvious bulge in his jeans. By the time he released her, she’d stopped thinking completely.

“What time are you finished today?” he asked, his breath heating her face.

“Fi-five,” she stuttered.

He leaned back and gently put her to the side. “Stay in the office until I come for you at five, Zara.” He ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “Cross me on this, baby, and I ain’t gonna be gentle.” He had already shut the door behind himself before she could take a whole breath.

She blinked several times, her fingers going to her still-tingling mouth. What had just happened?

THE BLOOD BROTHERS SERIES

DEADLY SILENCE, #1

LETHAL LIES, #2

TWISTED TRUTHS, #3

Series Page on Goodreads

READ AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM LETHAL LIES, ON SALE MAY 16TH!

“All the more reason to get you out of town,” Heath said quietly.

She shook her head. “No. I’m staying.” Her words were brave, but her chest hurt. No way could she deal with a serial killer all on her own. She could train every day for the rest of her life and not end up as practiced or as deadly as Heath already was, and she knew it. “I understand you have other cases and people after you. So leave, and I’ll handle this myself.”

“Those are big words, baby,” he said softly.

Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it. “I know. I promised her, Heath. It’s all I have left to give to her.”

He paused, understanding crossing his expression. “Ah, sweetheart. Your sister wouldn’t want that for you.” His voice turned velvety and soft. Soothing.

Anya nodded. “I know. But she was my sister. We shared blood and part of a childhood. She took me trick-or-treating when I was five, and it’s one of my best memories. Then when I needed help as an adult, she didn’t hesitate. She came to me right away, like family. She was the first person I really cared about in far too long, and it hurts like hell that I got her killed.”

He breathed out, the emotion in his eyes deepening.

She swallowed. “I have to do this for her. Either you understand that or you don’t.”

“Why don’t you just let us handle it?”

She pressed her point. “I could, but you need me. I’m the bait.” Inwardly, she winced at the description. That wouldn’t help her to convince him. “Also, here’s the deal. This could be a long op. At some point, you have to leave and deal with whatever is haunting you from your past. When you do, I’ll just challenge him again, and next time you won’t be around to assist.”

“That’s extortion,” Heath said, amusement curving his lip.

She grinned. “Apparently I’m getting quite good at it.”

Heath shook his head. “You’re putting me in an untenable position, baby.”

“No, I’m not.” She shrugged out of his hold. Finally. “I’m not yours to protect, Heath. We’re not together, and we’re not responsible for each other.” The words sliced through her even as she said them. “You’ve been more than clear on that score.”

“There’s something here, Anya. Maybe something real and lasting, if I get everything done I need to do.”

She blinked. “What’s that?”

“The less you know the better. Believe me.”

“What a bunch of bullshit. Go back to your ‘This is fake’ proclamation,” she all but yelled. “Your position is one of work . . . and this is just work.”

His chin lifted. “You think this is just work?” The tone—low and filled with tension—zinged through her body.

Her legs trembled with the urge to take a step back. “Yes.”

“Want me to prove otherwise?” His eyes darkened to the color of the sky right before midnight hit.

As a threat, as a warning, it was damn good. But she’d gone too far to give in now. “You can’t.” Yeah, she’d just waved a red flag in front of a bull.

He didn’t move a muscle. His focus on her was so absolute, she wanted to squirm. “You’re into challenging dangerous men these days, aren’t you?”

She kept her stance. “You’re not all that dangerous, Heath.”

His smile stole her breath. Then he moved. Faster than she could track, he had her by the armpits and up in the air as he carried her toward the bedroom with such speed that her legs automatically wound around to clasp his rib cage. By the time she sucked in air to protest, her butt was on the bed, and he was flattening himself over her.

She struggled, her body on fire, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

His mouth crushed hers, and she stilled.

Heat.

Fire.

True danger.

He held nothing back, kissing her hard, pressing her head into the comforter. His tongue worked hers, his powerful body plastered against hers, and his hands dug into her hair to hold her in place. Desire spun so quickly into need she couldn’t breathe, even when he wasn’t controlling her mouth.

She shifted against him, closing her eyes to kiss him back. This was what she’d wanted. All of this.

He nipped her lip, soothing the slight pain with another kiss. Then he traced along her jawline, kissing and nipping, finally reaching her earlobe, where he bit.

She arched against him, letting out a soft sigh.

“Anya.” His fingers tangled in her hair, and erotic pain tingled down her scalp. One of his strong arms slid around her waist and then down. His palm spread across her butt, and he ground her against his hard cock.

Pleasure swamped her, and mini explosions flew through her sex. The idea passed, somewhat fleetingly, that he wasn’t playing. Not at all.

Yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her knees widened, and she rubbed against him. “This feels real,” she whispered.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over twenty-five romantic suspense, dark paranormal, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestseller lists. She has received a Publisher’s Weekly Starred Review for Wicked Edge, Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Nominations for Forgotten Sins and Sweet Revenge, and RT Top Picks for several of her novels.  She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat…and a huge extended family.  She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off…and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out.

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This Is Effortless by Kennedy Fox…Release Day Blitz & Review

Title: Checkmate: This is Effortless
Series: Checkmate Duet Series (Drew & Courtney, #2)
Author: Kennedy Fox
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trope: Friends to Lovers
Photographer & Designer: Sara Eirew
Release Date: April 25, 2017


Introducing book 2 in the new Checkmate Duet Series from a secret duo of romance authors who teamed up under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox! This friends to lovers romance will have you swooning and laughing from the first to the last page! Are you ready to play the game?

Courtney Bishop is as sugary sweet as her famous blueberry muffins.
Southern belle at heart, Cali girl by choice.
She barged into my life and easily became my best friend.

All was great as roommates and just friends, but then I fell for the girl who could chop firewood, deliver baby calves, and bail hay without breaking a sweat.
She’s the perfect mixture of sugar and spice, and I love her.

Being more than friends and trying to build our future isn’t as easy as it sounds.
Moving forward and creating memories is all I want for us, but when the past continues to come back and haunt me, I’m not so sure she’ll stay for the ride.

Loving her is easy, but losing her will break me. Burning passion combined with an undeniable chemistry constantly pushes and pulls us together. In the end, I’ll prove we’re worth the fight, even when the game is far from over.

Checkmate, sweetheart.

*Recommend for ages 18+ due to sexual content and adult language.*

**This is book 2 in the Checkmate Duet Series–a friends to lovers romance. You must read book 1, Checkmate: This is Reckless first. Highly recommended to read the Checkmate Duet, This is War and This is Love first, but not necessary. This can read as a standalone duet.**

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kXYv8O
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2lHUCCe
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Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2miCXnz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHECKMATE: THIS IS RECKLESS (BOOK 1)
*MUST READ THIS ONE FIRST

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THE CHECKMATE DUET (TRAVIS & VIOLA)

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A secret duo of romance authors team up under the USA Today Bestselling pseudonym, Kennedy Fox who 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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Too Hard to Forget by Tessa Bailey…Release Blitz

TOO HARD TO FORGET

ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: TOO HARD TO FORGET
Author: Tessa Bailey
Series: Romancing The Clarksons, #3
On Sale: April 25, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD
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The third book in New York Times bestselling author Tessa Bailey’s Romancing the Clarksons series about four siblings on a cross-country road trip, perfect for fans of Gena Showalter and Julie James!

This time, she’s calling the shots.

Peggy Clarkson is returning to her alma mater with one goal in mind: confront Elliott Brooks, the man who ruined her for all others, and remind him of what he’s been missing. Even after three years, seeing him again is like a punch in the gut, but Peggy’s determined to stick to her plan. Maybe then, once she has the upper hand, she’ll finally be able to move on.

In the years since Peggy left Cincinnati, Elliott has kept his focus on football. No distractions and no complications. But when Peggy walks back onto his practice field and into his life, he knows she could unravel everything in his carefully controlled world. Because the girl who was hard to forget is now a woman impossible to resist.

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Too Hard to Forget is the third book in this series and is Peggy’s story. I have to confess that I wasn’t real excited to read Peggy’s book in this series. Peggy had been my least favorite character up to this point. However, my feelings have done a complete 180. This is my favorite book so far in this series.

Too Hard to Forget is a story full of angst, regret, heartache, hope and second chances. And I loved how Tessa wrote Peggy and Elliot’s story. There is a lot of angst – ALOT! But it’s so damn good and works perfectly for this story. I went back and forth from cheering them on to rooting for Peggy for standing up for herself.

Let me back up and explain why I didn’t care for Peggy before reading this book. Peggy from all outside appearances is the perfect cheerleader who gets what she wants and walked away from great people because she was selfish. Yea – I could not have been more wrong about her. And this is what I love about this book. Tessa was able to make me go from loathing a character to absolutely loving and wanting to protect her. Peggy is something else – as her mother put – she is a Rubix Cube.

Back to the book. As much as I wanted these two to get their HEA, I was so happy to see Peggy find her confidence and realize she deserved so much more from a man. She is worth more than he was willing to give. But it was when she realized this, that he also realized he was losing the best thing in life, for a second time. And I won’t give you any more than that because the reasons behind everything is what makes this story so good.

Tessa wrote a beautiful story. I told Jillian (co-blogger) that the best part of this book was the journey. I won’t go into details but Peggy and Elliott’s path is one filled with a lot of curves, potholes and unsuspecting left and right turns. And it just makes the whole story that much more entertaining.

What I am trying to say is go read this damn book. It is in a series. Do you need to read the others to understand Peggy’s story, no. Should you read them in order – if you want the full effect, yes. Because there are snippets of each siblings story embedded in the previous books that it gives you glimpses of what is to come. But it is not necessary.

Ok – now go read!!!

EXCERPT

 

“I don’t know, Peggy.” He whirled on her, closing in until she was forced back onto the desk. “I had an All-American on my squad this morning and now I don’t. That’s all I know.” He pointed a finger toward the window. “I solve problems down on the field. Saving people isn’t my job.”
Saving people. God, there was such a wealth of regret and pain in those two words. But he couldn’t hear it and she couldn’t address it. Letting him know she saw right through his façade to the hurt beneath might force Elliott to close himself off. “You didn’t always limit yourself. Why are you doing it now?”
“Accepting things that can’t be changed isn’t a limitation. It’s realistic.”
“But how will you know if something can’t be changed unless you try?”
“When it comes to certain things, Peggy, trying leads to losing.” He was in her face now, the mint from his toothpaste familiar and inviting where it slid over her lips. “And I don’t lose.”
No one ever stood up this man but her, and she wouldn’t be cowed now. “No? You’re out a receiver.” She hitched herself up on his desk. “I’d call that a loss.”
The tips of his shoes met Peggy’s, his hands gripping the furniture on either side of her hips. “Who do you think you are, little girl? Coming into my office and telling me what I’ve done wrong?” His eyes were brilliant in their vexation, the attraction he was trying so hard to fight. “Where do you get the goddamn bravery?”
“The bravery is what you liked best about me,” she breathed, heat sizzling in a downward V toward her thighs. “Isn’t it?”
“No. That bravery is what almost led to my downfall.” His hands found her bottom, jerking her to the edge of the desk. “I resented it. Still do.”
“Liar,” Peggy whispered, easing her thighs wider. “You’re dying for an excuse to head for another downfall.” When her legs were as open as she could spread them, she leaned up to Elliott’s ear and let her breath shake loose. “One thrust.”
Elliott’s right hand came up out of nowhere, molding over Peggy’s mouth as his hips crowded into the notch of her legs. With a quick maneuver to recline her halfway back, Elliott’s erection found the apex of her thighs, delivering an aggressive pump against her underwear that sent a scream climbing up Peggy’s throat, only to be trapped by his hand. Knees jerking up out of reflex over the rush of sensation, an orgasm almost—almost— broke past the surface, sending her waters rippling out on all sides. Her legs wanted to hug Elliott’s waist, her voice wanted to beg for one more, one more, one more, but he shook his head, denying her, even though his gaze was hot, a low groan issuing from his harshly masculine mouth.
He leaned in and nipped the lobe of her ear. “Next time, ask for two.”

DREAM CAST

For the record, this is SO HARD. For the Romancing the Clarksons series especially, I have a specific image in my mind for each character and none of them match an actor/actress perfectly. So I am going to take Elsa’s advice and Let it Go (let go of the images in my head, that is). Enough rambling! Here is my dream cast (the main characters, anyway) for TOO HARD TO FORGET!

Coach Elliott Brooks: Jon Hamm. Now, I’m not talking about suave Don Draper. If Jon is going to pull off my hard-ass football coach, he’s going to need some scruff and a bad attitude. There was an episode of Mad Men where Jon went juuuuust the right amount of dominant and that’s what makes him my Elliott.

Peggy Clarkson: Ashley Greene. This one is a little easier. I think Ashley Greene is incredibly beautiful and she could also pull off Peggy’s devil-may-care flirtatious presence, while still guarding secrets with her eyes.

Kyler Tate: Christian McCaffrey. Okay, so he’s not an actor. He plays for the Broncos. But he has the perfect sexy charmer smile and a ton of charisma. I would pay for his acting classes myself!

Alice Brooks: Kiernan Shipka. Might as well stick with a Mad Men theme, right? She already played Don Draper’s daughter (Sally Draper) and can exude angst like nobody’s business, so she’s a great choice for Alice!

THE ROMANCING THE CLARKSONS SERIES

TOO HOT TO HANDLE, #1
TOO WILD TO TAME, #2
TOO HARD TO FORGET, #3
TOO BEAUTIFUL TO BREAK, #4

Series Page on Goodreads

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.

She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.

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This Isn’t Fair, Baby by K. Webster…..Blog Tour

This Isn’t Fair, Baby

War & Peace Series #6
by K. Webster
Publication Date: April 18, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance

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***This is the sixth book in the series. First five books must be read in order to fully understand this story line.***

  1. The king in my world fell and a new one slid into place.
    He wasn’t just.
    He wasn’t FAIR.
    He was cruel and hateful and twisted.

But I had this black king figured out.
Or so I thought.

The game became complicated because my black king had some new moves and one of those involved my heart. Hope trickled in for the briefest of moments.

That is, until my black king and my heart sided against me. Those two didn’t play FAIR. They used me as their pawn in a bigger game—a game I didn’t know how to play.

The laws changed. I didn’t play by their rules anymore, for the queen makes up her own.

I am not a pawn.
I am not theirs to use and abuse.
I belong to nobody.

There are new players on the board and they don’t play FAIR either. But the white king does know how to treat his queen. And together, they will make them pay.

All’s FAIR in love and war, right?
Definitely not this time.

***Warning***
This Isn’t Fair, Baby is a dark romance. Extreme sexual themes and violence, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. If you are sensitive to dark themes, then this story is not for you.

 

About K. Webster

K Webster2

K Webster is the author of dozens romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website: www.authorkwebster.com
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The Texas Mutiny Series by M.E. Carter…Sale Blitz and Relaunch

Today we are helping M.E. Carter relaunch her Texas Mutiny series! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today—Juked is free today!

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About Texas Mutiny:

The Texas Mutiny Soccer team is known for their skills on the soccer field.  They work cohesively as a team, and their bond shows.

But off the field, each team member has a unique story.

Daniel Zavaro , Team Captain.  A self-proclaimed bachelor who loves nothing more important to Daniel than soccer, his extended family, and his mother’s home cooking.  When fate steps in and he inadvertently meets a woman who needs his help, Daniel is Juked by love.

Rowen Flanighan, The Rookie.  Son of a legendary forward in the European Premier League, he prefers to be known for his own skills, not his heritage.  Full of integrity, he tries to maintain his cool when he meets and falls for the team Groupie.

Santos DeGuajardo, The Veteran.  A family man at heart, Santos is madly in love with his wife and kids, yet he still can’t seem to stay faithful.  When confronted with his infidelities and the end of his marriage, Santos must figure out if he can win her back or if he has to move on.  And as long as he’s the team Goalie, there will always be temptation.

Have you been “Juked” by the boys of the Texas Mutiny yet?

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Ten Fun Facts about the Texas Mutiny:

 

Every author has their own writing process.  The things that make them most comfortable and help them reach their goals.

Problem is, characters seem to have a mind of their own and sometimes that means the original process goes out the window!

I experienced that phenomenon over and over while writing the Texas Mutiny series.  Here are Ten Fun Facts about the series and how the writing process didn’t exactly go as planned.

1)      My youngest child, who most know as “Bug”, is the inspiration for multiple younger characters in the series.  When I wrote Juked, baby Chance started out as a two month old – the same age Bug was at the time.  When I wrote Goalie, Theo was about 14 months old – the same age Bug was at the time.  I try to keep the characters different, but babies/toddlers all tend to be pretty similar in their learning process, so many everyday situations have been added to various scenes.

2)     I never planned to write a book about a groupie.  But when inspiration hits, there’s not a lot you can do to stop it.  I was in my car writing Juked one night, while my daughter was in dance practice.  I was researching derogatory terms for “soccer groupie”.  (For the record, there are several terms, but nothing I’ve been able to find that is exclusive to the sport of soccer, like “puck bunny” would be to hockey.)  Instead, I stumbled across several blog posts from former soccer groupies and I was fascinated.  So yes, some of the things that happen in Groupie?  They’re not the result of my imagination at work as much as they are based on true stories.

3)     I never panned to write Goalie either.  One of my beta readers for Groupie mentioned that she would be interested to know what happened with Santos and Mariana, who were at that point, just secondary characters that popped in and out very briefly.  I told her there wasn’t a story there.  The following morning, I sent her quite a few texts cussing her out, as I suddenly had a 30 chapter outline and story rolling through my brain.

4)     Goalie is about a couple going through a divorce.  I wrote it while I was going through a divorce.  There’s a misconception that I wrote my own divorce story.  I didn’t.  We could all be so lucky as to divorce a man like Santos.  Which is weird to say since he’s a serial cheater.  But if you make it to the end, you’ll see why I can wish for that.

5)     I’m not a fan of naked torsos on covers, but I wanted to try a “Social experiment”, if you will, about how well a naked torso cover is received.  That’s how Juked ended up with a soccer player on the cover.  Then it turned into a whole series and I have to keep the covers consistent with more torsos.  Serves me right.

6)     Speaking of covers, one really cool feature with the paperback, if you put two of them side by side, the second one upside down, and push the covers together, the pictures come together like a puzzle to make one whole person.   It works with the covers of Groupie, too.  However, it does NOT work with Goalie.  If you put those two pictures together, it looks like a threesome with a four-boobed alien woman in the middle.  That’s a different genre, altogether.

7)     I toyed with just letting the soccer team be the Houston Dynamo, which is our actual team here in Houston.  Then the inspiration for Groupie hit and I figured their very real PR department wouldn’t want to have any sort of association with some of the things my players do off the field.  And since a lawsuit didn’t fit into my schedule, I very quickly changed the team name.

8)     Speaking of changing the team name, I couldn’t come up with one I liked for anything!  So I had a contest in my group for one.  The winner, Helen Cope, came up with the name “Texas Mutiny”.  Not only did she win some books, she is a character in Juked.  Remember Rosemary Cope?  Erik’s mother?  Helen’s middle name is Rosemary and liked the sound of it for the character.

9)     In the acknowledgements of each Texas Mutiny book (except Megged) is the name John Marshall.  He is the husband of a good friend of mine and has been obsessed with all things soccer since he can remember.  He’s in his 40’s and still plays on a competitive league.  John has never read a romance book in his life until he beta read the entire series.  It’s not uncommon for him to send me notes from his job because he’s gotten caught up in a chapter.  His wife has even texted me pictures of him reading my books the day they go live, so he can see the final product!  I also been told the conversations they had while he beta read Groupie were, um…. Interesting.

10)  My favorite characters in this series, by far, are Tiffany and Rowen.  There is something so lovely and wonderful about knowing nothing in your past matters to the person that loves you the most.  I love them so much that they are getting a second book, tentatively titled Outswinger.  It’s scheduled to release in July.

 

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About the Author:

My name is ME Carter and I have no idea how I ended writing books. I’m more of a story teller (the more exaggerated the better) and I happen to know people who helped me get those stories on paper.

I love reading (read almost 300 books last year), hate working out (but I do it anyway because my trainer makes me), love food (but hate what it does to my butt) and love traveling to non-touristy places most people never see.

I live in Houston with my four kids, Mary, Elizabeth, Carter and Bug, who was just a twinkle in my eye when I came up with my pen name. Yeah, I’ll probably have to pay for his therapy someday for being left out.

 

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Tempting Justice by Fiona Archer…Release Blitz

 

 

Title: Tempting Justice
Series: Sons of Sydney #2
Authors: Fiona Archer
Genre: Erotic Romance/Romantic Suspense
 Release Date: April 18, 2017
Blurb
He’s
sworn to uphold the law
His reckless behavior as a child caused the deaths of his entire
family. On the lonely Sydney streets, the orphan found friends. Found
“brothers.” Never again will Seattle Homicide Detective Heath Justice break the
rules and risk his new family. Order and discipline govern his life…until he
meets a curvaceous redhead. With two ugly murder cases to solve, the last thing
he needs is this disconcertingly lovely, whirlwind of chaos, yet…charmed by her
wit and intelligence, Heath can’t resist.
She
believes rules are meant to be broken
Deep into writing a murder mystery, author London Shaw is shocked when
she herself is implicated in a homicide. She can’t believe the
ever-so-authoritarian Detective Heath Justice expects her to simply ignore the
crime and go on about her business. Not happening.  Although the man’s whiskey rough voice,
cuffs, and masterful touch could melt any woman’s resistance—and does—she has a
craving to do a little investigating herself.
When all
or nothing is your only play
When Heath’s murder investigation threatens a far-reaching conspiracy,
everyone he cares for becomes their target—including the woman he’s come to
love.
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
Heath had grabbed the flask from the SUV’s back seat when he glimpsed a figure through the rear window. A woman, wearing a blue hoodie and black sweatpants walked to the edge of Derek’s driveway and gazed at the house’s front door. A few seconds later, she began walking swiftly down the driveway, constantly checking the front door.Was she worried about being seen? A possible intruder?

Since he’d parked closer to the house further on from Derek’s parents’ property, the woman hadn’t spotted him. Heath replaced the flask on the backseat and gently pushed the back passenger door nearly closed. He waited until she had disappeared behind the side of the house before following.

Careful not to make noise, he followed the woman down the driveway and watched as she stopped in front of a side door to the garage, which was separate from the house. With her back to Heath, she pulled something from her pocket and tried to jimmy the door’s lock.

The woman glanced toward the back of the house, likely checking to see if she’d been spotted, then continued her efforts with the lock. A soft hiss and a “dammit” indicated her efforts were unsuccessful.

Heath also couldn’t miss the curvy shape of her figure outlined so well by the soft black material hugging her gorgeous arse. One shown off to perfection as she bent to look closer at the lock.

A tiny squeak of joy, followed by her opening the door, signaled the possible intruder had crossed a line. It seemed such a shame to stop his fun. Nevertheless, duty called…

Heath pulled out his 9mm from his shoulder holster and held it out in front of him as he moved forward. “Police! Put your hands on your head and step away from the door.”

The woman let out a high squeak, dropped the lock pick, and spun around, eyes wide. Her mouth formed an “O” at the sight of his weapon. “Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness.” She covered her mouth with both hands before waving them in front of her, palms facing Heath. “It’s not what you think. Honestly.” Her gaze snapped to her left in the direction of the back of the house as if she expected someone to come out any moment.

“I said, hands on your head.” Heath commanded, satisfied when the woman immediately obeyed. “Come forward, turn around, and face the garage door.” He saw her close her eyes in defeat before she obeyed. Heath grabbed his cuffs and shoved his weapon back in the holster. With efficient moves, he had her wrists secured behind her.

“Officer, I can explain.” She sighed. “I mean, I know everyone says that, but really, nothing illegal’s happening here.”

“Good to know.” He pulled her jacket’s hood from her head. Red hair. No, the description didn’t do the color justice, but he only knew guyspeak, which would have to suffice to explain the bursts of deeper red in amongst the lighter strands, all held in a ponytail.

Heath patted down his suspect. No weapons. And he’d have to be dead not to notice the way his hands fit over her hips, the roundness of her arse. He wasn’t a sleaze, not by any means, but he appreciated a woman’s body like any man.

Taking her arm in a firm grip, he turned his suspect around.

Green eyes framed with long, thick lashes blinked up at him. “When I say nothing illegal, I mean it depends on your point of view.”

“My point of view is as a cop, which doesn’t leave a lot of leeway on a range of subjects.”

She frowned at him, as if he was being unreasonable. “That’s a rather rigid stance. Not everything is black and white.”

Heath wasn’t prepared to debate the point. “Your disappointment is noted. Now—”

“Hey, I’m sure you’re a busy guy. And, uh,”—she licked her lips—“you need to go protect the community. That’s an important role. Absolutely. So, you know—” She broke off. “Shoo. Anyway, we can put a line under this and start the day over.”

Despite her opinion of his so-called inflexible outlook on life, he couldn’t help answering. “We can, huh?”

“Totally.” She nodded, sending her ponytail bobbing.

Keeping hold of her arm, Heath looked down at her black canvas tennis shoes to hide his mouth twitching.

It was a safe bet the young woman wasn’t a hardened criminal. But whatever the hell she was up to, he aimed to find out. First he needed to phone Derek.

“Do you know the owners of this house?”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew huge in her face. “You don’t have to get them,” she rushed out.

“Oh, but I do.” He went to pull out his phone from his back pocket, and the woman jerked against his grip. She would have toppled over if not for him keeping his hold.

Oh, no, sweetheart.

He tightened his grip, reinforcing her captivity and moved closer, towering over her. “Lady, you could have hurt yourself.” The safety of suspects was important, and the thought of the little redhead causing herself harm propelled his alpha instincts center stage. “Resist once more, and I’ll use my belt to hogtie you.”

She drew in a sharp breath. What he didn’t see was fear. Not in her eyes or the way a blush stained the cool-toned white skin of her face. And swear to God, he felt her body soften against him.

An image of her hogtied flashed through his mind. Only she wouldn’t be in this driveway, but in his bed. Lying on his sheets. Her glorious long red hair spread over his pillow.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Heath looked over his shoulder. Derek stood at the side of the house, his hands jammed on his hips.

Dammit,” came from his suspect.

A look best described as misery—from the closed eyes and turned down mouth—covered her face.

“I caught a suspect attempting to break into your parents’ garage.”

Derek gave a dry laugh. “I’ve no doubt she’s up to something, but that’s no suspect.” He strode up the driveway, his frown reserved for the woman at Heath’s side. “Meet London, my baby sister.”

Heath swung his gaze to…Derek’s sister?

Those eyes, so wide and shocked before, were now narrowed with the promise of rebellion, even as she stood there—in his cuffs.

Ah. So bravado was her chosen defense.

Heath remembered the sweet color of her blush at his earlier threat of hogtying her.

Lightning might strike him down any second, but the woman intrigued him, even knowing she was Derek’s sister. The knowledge he didn’t have to call for a cruiser to take her to booking added a new dimension to the proceedings. Anticipation flowed through Heath. He was going to enjoy this visit, and for way more than pancakes.

Time for his prisoner to confess all.

Also Available
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Author Bio
Fiona Archer writes erotic romance filled with masterful Aussie alpha heroes and teams them with sassy heroines who limit their submissive side to the bedroom. She lives in sunny environs of Sydney, Australia, and is harassed by a flock of wild cockatoos that take over the back yard each afternoon, demanding their feed. Her favorite hobbies include watching Nathan Fillion on television, shopping for that ever-elusive perfect shade of lipstick, and drinking iced coffee.
Author Links

A Piece of My Heart by Sharon Sala…Spotlight Tour

Synopsis

She’s never had a home
Growing up in a troubled foster home, Mercy Dane knew she could never rely on anyone but herself. She’s used to giving her all to people who don’t give her a second glance, so when she races to Blessings, Georgia, to save the life of an accident victim, she’s flabbergasted when the grateful town opens its arms to her. She never dreamed she’d ever find family or friends—or a man who looks at her as if she hung the stars.

Until she finds peace in his arms
Police Chief Lon Pittman is getting restless living in sleepy little Blessings. But the day Mercy Dane roars into his life on the back of a motorcycle, practically daring him to pull her over, he’s lost. There’s something about Mercy’s tough-yet-vulnerable spirit that calls to Lon, and he will do anything in his power to make her realize that home isn’t just where the heart is—home is where their heart is.

We’re running a special preorder promotion for this title, if you preorder A Piece of My Heart, you can choose to receive one of the other Blessings, Georgia books for free.

Exclusive Preorder link: http://books.sourcebooks.com/blessings-georgia-preorder/

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Chapter 1-3

Chapter 1

From childhood, Mercy Dane viewed Christmas Eve in Savannah, Georgia, like something out of a fairy tale. The old, elegant mansions were always lit from within and decorated with great swags of greenery hanging above the doorways and porch railings like thick green icing on snowy white cakes.

The shops decked out in similar holiday style were as charming as the sweet southern women who worked within. Each shop boasted fragrant evergreens, plush red velvet bows, and flickering lights mimicking the stars in the night sky above the city.

And even though Mercy had grown up on the hard side of town with lights far less grand, the lights in her world burned with true southern perseverance. Now that she was no longer a child, the beauty of the holiday was something other people celebrated, and on this cold Christmas Eve, she no longer believed in fairy tales. So far, the chapters of her life consisted of a series of foster families until she aged out of the system, and one magic Christmas Eve with a man she never saw again. The only lights in her world now were the lights where she worked at the Road Warrior Bar.

The yellow neon sign over the bar was partially broken. The R in Road was missing its leg, making the word look like Toad. But the patrons who frequented this bar didn’t care about the name. They came for the company and a drink or two to dull the disappointment of a lifetime of regrets.

Carson Beal, who went by the name of Moose, owned the bar. He’d been meaning to get the R fixed for years, but intention was worth nothing without the action, and Moose had yet to act upon the thought.

Outside, the blinking neon light beckoned, calling the lonely and the thirsty into the bar where the beer was cold and the gumbo and rice Moose served was hot with spice and fire.

Moose often took advantage of Mercy’s talent for baking after she’d once brought cupcakes for Moose and the employees to snack on. After that, she’d bring in some of whatever she’d made at home. On occasion Moose would ask her to bake him something special. It was always good to have a little extra money, so she willingly obliged.

This Christmas Eve, Moose had ordered an assortment of Christmas cookies for the bar. When Mercy came in to work carrying the box of baked goods, he was delighted. Now a large platter of cookies graced the north end of the bar.

The incongruity of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” playing in the background was only slightly less bizarre than the old tinsel Christmas tree hanging above the pool table like a molting chandelier.

Because of the holiday, only two of his four waitresses were on duty, Barb Hanson, a thirtysomething widow with purple hair, and Mercy Dane, the baker with a curvy body.

Mercy’s long, black hair was a stunning contrast to the red Christmas sweater she was wearing, and her willowy body and long, shapely legs looked even longer in her black jeans and boots. Her olive skin and dark hair gave her an exotic look, but being abandoned as a baby, and growing up in foster care, she had no knowledge of her heritage.

Barb of the purple hair wore red and green, a rather startling assortment of colors for a lady her age, and both women were wearing reindeer antler headbands with little bells. Between the bells and antlers, the music and cookies, and the Christmas tree hanging above the pool table, Moose had set a holiday mood.

Mercy had been working at the bar for over five years. Although she’d turned twenty-six just last week, her life, like this job, was going nowhere.

It was nearing midnight when a quick blast of cold air suddenly moved through the bar and made Mercy shiver. She didn’t have to look to know the ugly part of this job had just arrived.

“Damn, Moose, play some real music, why don’t ya?” Big Boy yelled as the door slammed shut behind him.

Moose glared at the big biker who’d entered his bar. “This is real music, Big Boy. Sit down somewhere and keep your opinions to yourself.”

The biker flipped Moose off, spat on the floor, and stomped through the room toward an empty table near the back, making sure to feel up Mercy’s backside in passing.

When Big Boy suddenly shoved his hand between her legs, she nearly dropped the tray of drinks she was carrying. She knew from experience that he was waiting for a reaction, so she chose to bear the insult without calling attention to it.

As soon as he was seated, Big Boy slapped the table and yelled at the barmaids. “One of you bitches bring me a beer!”

Moose glanced nervously at Mercy, aware that she’d become the target for most of Big Boy’s harassment.

Barb sailed past Mercy with a jingle in every step. “I’ve got his table,” she said.

“Thanks,” Mercy said, and delivered the drinks she was carrying. “Here you go, guys! Christmas Eve cheer and cookies from Moose!”

One trucker, a man named Pete, took a big bite out of the iced sugar cookie. “Mmm, this is good,” he said.

“Mercy made them,” Moose yelled.

Pete shook his head and took another bite. “You have a fine hand with baking. I’d ask you to marry me, darlin’, but my old lady would object.”

Mercy took the teasing with a grin. The men at this table were good men who always left nice tips. In fact, most of the patrons in the bar were men with no family or truckers who couldn’t get home for Christmas. Every now and then, a random woman would wander in to have a drink, but rarely lingered, except for Lorena Haysworth, the older woman sitting at the south end of the bar.

She’d been coming here since before Mercy was born, and in her younger days she and Moose had been lovers before slowly drifting apart. She’d come back into his life a few months ago and nightly claimed the seat at the end of the bar.

Barb took the first of what would be multiple beers to Big Boy’s table, along with a Christmas cookie and a bowl of stale pretzels, making sure to keep the table between them.

Big Boy lunged at her as if he was going to grab her, and when she turned around and ran, he leaned back and laughed.

Mercy returned to the bar with a new order and waited for Moose to fill it.

“Sorry about that,” Moose said, as he glanced toward the table where Big Boy was sitting.

Her eyes narrowed angrily. “How sorry are you? Sorry enough to kick him out? Or just sorry his money is more important to you than me and Barb?”

Moose’s face turned as red as his shirt. “Damn it, Mercy. You know how it goes,” he said, and pushed the new order across the bar.

She did know. The customer was always right. Trying not to buy into the turmoil, she picked up the tray and delivered the order with a smile.

The night wore on with Big Boy getting drunker and more belligerent, while Barb and Mercy dodged his constant attempts to maul them, until finally, it was time to close.

It was a few minutes before 2:00 a.m. when Moose shut down the bar. There were only three customers left. Big Boy, who was so close to passed out he couldn’t walk, Lorena, who was waiting to go home with Moose, and a trucker who’d fallen asleep at his table.

Mercy headed for the trucker, leaving Moose to wrestle Big Boy up and out.

The trucker was a small, wiry man named Frank Bigalow who fancied himself a ringer for country music star Willie Nelson. He was dreaming of hit songs and gold records when Mercy woke him.

“Frank. Frank. You need to wake up now. We’re closing.”

Bigalow straightened abruptly, momentarily confused as to where he was, then saw Mercy and smiled.

“Oh. Right. Sure thing, honey. What do I owe you?” he mumbled.

“Twelve dollars,” she said.

Bigalow stood up to get his wallet out of his pants then pulled out a twenty. “Keep the change and Merry Christmas,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, and began bussing his table as he walked out of the bar.

Moose had Big Boy on his way out the door, and it was none too soon for Mercy.

She handed Moose the twenty when he returned. “Take twelve out. The rest is mine,” she said, and pocketed the change Moose gave her.

Within fifteen minutes, the bar was clear and swept, the money was in the safe, and Barb and Mercy were heading for the door.

“Hey! Girls! Wait up!” Moose said, then handed them each an envelope, along with little bags with some of Mercy’s cookies. “Merry Christmas. We’re not open tomorrow so sleep in.”

“Thank you,” Barb said, as she slid the envelope inside her purse.

“Much appreciated,” Mercy added, as she put her envelope in one of the inner pockets of her black leather bomber jacket. It was old and worn, but it was warm.

Then she grabbed her helmet and the cookies and headed out the door behind Barb and just ahead of Moose and Lorena. Once outside, she paused to judge the near-empty parking lot, making sure Big Boy and his Harley were at the motel across the street.

The air was cold and the sky was clear as she stashed the cookies, then put on her helmet and mounted her own Harley. Seconds later the quiet was broken by the rolling rumble of the engine as she toed up the kickstand, put the bike in gear, and rode off into the night.

The empty streets on the way to her apartment were a little eerie, but she was so tired she couldn’t work up the emotion to be scared. The streetlights were draped with Christmas garlands and red bows, but they were all one blur as Mercy sped toward home.

A city cop on neighborhood patrol saw her, recognized the lone bike and biker, and blinked his lights as she passed him.

She waved back and kept going.

When she stopped for a red light and realized she was the only person on this stretch of street, she didn’t breathe easy until the light turned green, and she moved on.

Finally, she was home. She eased up on the accelerator as she rolled through the gates of her apartment complex and parked the motorcycle beneath a light in plain view of the security cameras. She ran up the outer stairs to the second level and down the walkway to her apartment carrying her helmet and the cookies. No matter how many times she’d done this or how many times she’d moved since it happened, the fact that she’d once come home late at night to find out she’d been robbed, she never felt safe until she was in the apartment with the door locked behind her.

She tossed the helmet onto the sofa and took the cookies into the kitchen. Curious as to how much of a bonus Moose was giving this year, she was pleased to see a hundred-dollar bill.

“Nice,” she said, and took it and her night’s worth of tips to the refrigerator, opened up the freezer, and put the money inside an empty box that had once held a biscuit mix.

She wasn’t sure how much money she had saved up, but last time she’d counted it had been over two thousand dollars. It should have been in a bank, but these days, banks cost money to use, and she didn’t have any to spare, so she froze her assets.

The place smelled of stale coffee and something her neighbor across the hall had burned for dinner. She was tired and cold, but too wired to sleep, so she went to her bedroom, stripped out of her clothes, and took a long hot shower.

She returned to the kitchen later to find something to eat. One quick glance in the refrigerator was all the reminder she needed that she still hadn’t grocery shopped. She emptied what was left of the milk into a bowl of cereal and ate it standing by the sink, remembering another Christmas in Savannah, her first all on her own.

***

Mercy was nineteen years old, between jobs, and as close to homeless as she’d ever been. She had come back to her apartment after a long day of job-hunting, only to walk in on a burglar in the act. She screamed. He ran with what was left of her savings, and the hours afterward were a blur of tears and a fear that she would not be able to survive the setback. The only money she had left in the world was in her pocket.

The people in the adjoining apartments were sympathetic and curious, and a couple felt sorry for her and gave her a couple of twenties. She was standing in the hall waiting for the cops to clear her room when the neighbor from across the hall opened his door and came out. He’d moved in only two days ago, and during that time they’d done no more than nod and smile as they passed in the hall, but she liked his face. His eyes were kind, and his smile felt genuine.

It was apparent he’d been sleeping and had done no more than comb his fingers through his hair before he opened the door. The top snap on his jeans was undone, and he was pulling a sweatshirt over his head as he came out. She got a quick glimpse of a hard belly and wide shoulders before she looked away.

“What’s happening?” he asked, as he stopped beside her. “I fell asleep with the TV on. When I woke up and turned it off, I heard all this.”

“I was robbed,” she said.

His empathy was instant. “Oh no! Oh honey, are you okay? Were you hurt?”

Her voice was shaking. “My arrival scared him off.”

Without hesitation, he hugged her. The unexpected compassion undid her, and she began to cry.

And in the midst of that moment, the cops came out, and she pushed out of his arms.

“Ma’am, we’re through here. He busted the lock. I would suggest you find somewhere else to sleep for the night.”

“I don’t have somewhere else or someone else,” she said.

They shrugged and left the building.

The neighbors all went back into their apartments.

All but him.

She sighed and started for her apartment, when he stopped her with a word. “Don’t.”

She turned, anger already settling in her heart. “Don’t what? That’s everything I own in this world. They took my money. I’m not giving up what clothes I have left too.”

She walked into her apartment and closed the door.

He opened it and walked in behind her. “Get your things. You can sleep in my room tonight. Tomorrow we’ll figure something out.”

Mercy started to shake. “There is no we in my life.”

“Fine. Then you’ll figure something out. But you can sleep in my room tonight anyway.”

She stared at his face, looking for a sign of danger and seeing none. “Yes. Okay.”

“Want help gathering up your things?”

“No.”

“Then do what you need to do, and knock on my door when you have everything.”

She nodded.

He walked out.

She packed her bags while a cold anger washed through her. One more kick when she was down. It’s how her world worked. By the time she got across the hall, she had shut herself down.

“I made a bed for you on the sofa,” he said.

She left her bags by the door and then laid her coat on top of them as he locked up behind her. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re very welcome. Oh, hey, I just realized I don’t know your name.”

She grimaced. “Oh, just call me Lucky.”

“I have a feeling that’s not your real name, but it will do. I’m L.J. but my friends call me—”

“We’re not friends. L.J. will do,” she muttered.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. He’d seen animals trapped into a corner with no way out, and the look in her eyes was about the same. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” he asked.

“No, thanks. Just the bed. I’m tired. So fucking tired.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, but he was guessing she didn’t know it. “Then I’ll leave you alone. If you need anything later, just knock on my door.”

She nodded, dropped onto the sofa, and began taking off her shoes.

“Good night, Lucky. Sweet dreams,” he said.

She made a sound halfway between a snort and a sob. He left the room.

She went to bed. And three hours later woke up screaming.

He came out on the run with a gun in his hand.

By that time she was sitting on the side of the sofa bed with her head in her hands. Her long, black hair was in tangles, and the sports bra and sweatpants she’d been sleeping in were drenched with sweat, even though the room was cold. His first thought was that she was sick.

“Sorry. Bad dreams,” she said, and got up. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, first door on your left.”

She passed by him, so close he felt the heat from her body. And when she came out, she had washed up and dried off the sweat.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said.

“I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and that you didn’t need anything…” Then he pointed at the clock. “It’s Christmas.”

Tears rolled down Mercy’s cheeks.

“Oh hell. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said.

“Well, you did, so what are you going to do about it?” she snapped.

L.J. flinched. “We could make love.”

Now she was the one who was startled. “What if I say no?”

He shrugged. “Then I go back to my room and sleep till daylight.”

The rage within her was choking. She wanted to feel something besides despair. “I am numb. I don’t think I will be able to feel.”

He held out his hand. “I know how to make you feel again.”

Mercy shivered, her mind racing. With a stranger? Just once. Just so she wouldn’t have to hurt.

She walked into his arms.

The ensuing hour was nothing short of magic. Mercy turned into someone she didn’t know existed. He turned her on and sent every emotion she had into overdrive. The sex was heart-stopping, and so was he. After it was over, he fell asleep with her still in his arms.

She watched his face as he slept until every facet of him was branded into her memory, but she wouldn’t sleep. An hour before daylight, she slipped out of his bed, dressed in the other room, and left without telling him good-bye.

***

A loud crash, and then the squall of a tomcat somewhere outside broke Mercy’s reverie.

She put her bowl in the sink and walked to the window overlooking the parking lot.

The neighborhood cat was prowling around the dumpster, and she saw the vague images of two people making out in a car near the back of the lot. Angry that she cared, she turned away. Exhaustion was finally catching up. It was after three in the morning when she rinsed the bowl and then paused in the doorway, making sure everything was turned off and locked up.

The silence in the apartment was suddenly broken by the distant sound of a phone ringing in a nearby apartment. The ringtone was “Jingle Bells.”

“Merry Christmas,” she muttered, and went to bed.

Chapter 2

It was nearing daylight when her cell phone began to ring. She rolled over and grabbed it as she turned on the lamp. “Hello?”

“This is Mildred Starks from the National Rare Blood Registry. Am I speaking to Mercy Dane?”

“Yes,” Mercy said, as she threw back the covers and stood up.

“Ms. Dane, we have an emergency in your area. This is an unusual situation, and we’re asking something out of the ordinary. Can you respond directly to the hospital in need?”

“Yes. Where do I need to be?” she asked, as she began grabbing clothes.

“You still reside in Savannah, Georgia, and are there at this time?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. There is a small town about an hour south of you called Blessings. There’s no chopper available to fly you there and no time to donate in Savannah and then have it transported. Do you have transportation to get yourself to Blessings?”

Now her hands were shaking as she realized the reality of someone’s life would lie partially in her ability to get there. “Yes. Where do I go?”

“The town is small. There’s only one hospital. I’m sending GPS directions to your phone. Time is crucial. Be safe and Godspeed.”

“On my way,” she said, and dropped the phone on the bed as she took her biker gear out of the closet. Within five minutes she was out the door, her helmet in one hand, keys in the other.

The sun was only a hint on the eastern horizon as she left the complex. According to her directions, she was to take I-16 west, then connect to I-95 south. She wasn’t far from a feeder road that would take her to I-516, which then turned into I-16, so she took that route.

It was early Christmas morning and traffic was sparse. Sunrise was minutes away when she finally hit I-16, and by that time she was flying. Every mile behind her put her closer to Blessings. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called upon to donate her blood, but it was the first time she’d been asked to go to the person in need. It amped the urgency to a fever pitch, making her part in it personal.

Once she hit I-95 southbound, the northbound lane was a black ribbon of flickering headlights, while she and the Harley became a two-wheeled version of earthbound flight.

She rode with single-minded focus, keeping an eye on the traffic while making sure she didn’t get caught in the draft of passing truckers. And when the new sun was just high enough in the east that she could see the landscape through which she was passing, the glimpses of houses led her to imagining what might be going on within the walls—because it was Christmas Day.

Surely joyful families were opening presents and eating breakfasts. She pictured turkeys already in the oven, pies already baked and lining sideboards and tables, and the dough for homemade hot rolls in big crockery bowls, covered and rising in a warm place on the counter. Unfortunately, that scene was nothing but her imagination because she’d never experienced anything like it. But the closer she got to Blessings, the more she realized there was no time to dwell on what she didn’t have. Today, it was what she did have—an RH negative blood type—that mattered most.

She’d been on the interstate forty-five minutes when she reached the exit that would take her to her destination. According to the directions she’d received, Blessings was less than fifteen miles ahead. The roar of the engine beneath her was all she could hear as she leaned slightly forward into the ride and accelerated.

And just as she rode past the city limits sign, she came upon a roadblock and a long line of cars blocking the highway with rescue vehicles up ahead. Her heart sank. She didn’t know it was the aftermath of the wreck that had caused the injuries to the person in need of her blood. But waiting around for permission to pass was not on her agenda.

She rolled out around the last car in line and kept moving forward. When she reached the accident site, she rode around two tow trucks, then took to the ditch to get around a couple of police cars and one highway patrol.

Although she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she saw them shouting and trying to wave her down. She’d never outright defied a lawman in her life, but these were extenuating circumstances, and so she kept moving until she was beyond the roadblock and heading into town.

She knew she was speeding, but traffic on Main Street was almost nonexistent. Her gut knotted when she heard a siren. One glance in her side mirror, and she saw the red and blue flashing lights of a cop car coming up behind her. Stopping to explain her situation could be the difference between someone living and dying.

Led by fear, she swerved off Main Street into a residential neighborhood and accelerated. It wasn’t enough. The cruiser was still behind her and closing the gap. Then she noticed an alley coming up on her right, swerved into it and sped up, trying to get back to Main. Everything in her peripheral vision was a blur, and the sound of the siren was fading as she shot back onto Main and then down to the far end of the street to the blue hospital sign with an arrow pointing east.

She followed the arrow, saw the hospital building straight ahead, and headed toward the entrance marked ER. She slid sideways as she came to a stop and then ran toward the entrance with her helmet in her hand and her hair in tangles.

It had taken an hour and five minutes to get there.

It was thirty-seven degrees, and she was sweating.

***

Everyone in the waiting room looked up as the tall, leggy woman came running into ER, heading straight toward registration. They saw black leather, wild hair, and a motorcycle helmet, and frowned. Women in Blessings didn’t dress like that. She was obviously a stranger.

Mercy was unaware of the stares and would have cared less had she known. She stopped at the desk.

“I’m here to donate blood to—”

A nurse came out of a nearby office.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Mercy Dane.”

The nurse threw up her hands in a gesture of thanksgiving. “Praise the Lord that you’re here. They’re waiting for you. Come with me.”

They left the waiting area with haste, moving down a long hallway, then through double doors, past the surgery waiting room, unaware of the two men who came running out of the waiting room behind them as they passed. And when the nurse took her through another set of doors, things began to happen rapid-fire.

She’d given them her photo ID and donor card and was now flat on her back, half-listening to the frantic voices around her as they began hooking her up. It was obvious whoever needed this transfusion was someone they knew—someone they certainly cared about. And she was here, so she closed her eyes, letting the chaos go on around her without buying into the panic, just glad she’d made the ride.

***

Lon Pittman clocked the biker at close to sixty miles an hour going down Main Street. He immediately hit the lights and siren as he took pursuit, and when he got close enough to ID the tag number, radioed it in. He had assumed the rider was a guy with long hair until the dispatcher radioed back. The owner was a woman named Mercy Dane. That wasn’t going to change anything when he caught her, but it did cross his mind that this woman was surely hell on wheels. He was still in pursuit when she suddenly took a right and shot up the alley that ran along the side of Ruby Dye’s home.

“Damn it,” he muttered, knowing it was too narrow to take his cruiser up that alley at this rate of speed, and had to drive to the end of the block to take a quick right, only to see her shoot out of the alley, straight across the street into another one. She was still running the alleys, one block after another.

He took off toward Main running hot, and when he finally reached it, caught a quick glimpse of the bike and rider now on Main and turning east. With lights still flashing and his siren screaming, he took the turn onto Main and followed her route.

It wasn’t until he took the same turn the biker had taken that he realized it led to the hospital. He caught a glimpse of her and the bike heading north around the hospital and floored it.

The last thing he expected to see when he drove up to the ER was the big Harley parked near the entrance. He killed the lights and siren, radioed in his position, and got out on the run.

Once again, the people in the waiting room were surprised. When their police chief entered a building running, they were curious what was going on.

None of them had expected to see so much action and excitement in the hospital ER, especially on Christmas Day.

Lon quickly scanned the room, and when he didn’t see anyone in black leather, he headed for the registration desk.

“Sally, did a woman wearing black leather come in here?”

“Oh…you mean Mercy Dane? Yes, she’s here, thank goodness. They took her straight to the surgery area.”

He frowned. “Why? Was she injured in some way?”

“Oh, no! She came for Hope Talbot. She’s the rare blood donor they’ve been waiting for.”

And just like that, all the anger he’d been feeling for the reckless way in which she’d come into Blessings was gone. He’d helped pull Hope out of the wreck. He knew she was hanging onto life by a thread, but had no idea about her blood type or the frantic call that had gone out on her behalf.

“Where did they take the Dane woman?” he asked.

“Down the hall is all I know. You might check in at the surgery waiting room. Jack and Duke are there. They might know more.”

“Thanks,” he said, and headed down the hall.

***

Jack Talbot and his brother, Duke, were still celebrating the blood donor’s arrival when Chief Pittman entered the waiting room.

Jack immediately stood up and shook his hand. “Chief! I was told you helped pull Hope out of the wreck. Thank you so much.”

“I just happened to be one of the first on the scene,” he said.

“I’m still so grateful,” Jack said. “My wife is the beginning and end of my world.”

“So how’s she doing?” Lon asked.

Jack shook his head and walked away in tears, leaving Duke to answer. “She’s hanging in, but it wasn’t looking good. She’d lost so much blood that they didn’t think she would pull through surgery without a transfusion. The problem became getting blood for her. She’s RH negative, which is a rare blood type. There wasn’t any in the blood banks that could have gotten to us time, and just when we thought it wasn’t going to happen, they found a donor who lived in Savannah. She just got here a few minutes ago. There’s no way to know how this is going to come out, but whoever she is, her presence was an answer to our prayers.”

The image of Mercy Dane’s frantic ride now made a crazy kind of sense. Now Lon was past curious. He wanted to see the woman who’d made a wild ride on Christmas Day to save a stranger’s life.

“That’s good to know,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I believe I’ll wait here with you, just to see how Hope fares after the transfusion.”

***

Mercy watched one nurse rush out with the donated blood while another took the needle out of her arm. The panic of getting here was over. Whatever happened now was out of her hands, save for the silent prayer she’d said for the woman in need. She was about to get up when a nurse stopped her.

“Wait, honey. Not so fast,” she cautioned.

Mercy didn’t argue. The room had already begun to spin when she raised her head—a combination of too little sleep, an adrenaline crash, and a unit short of blood.

The nurse helped Mercy up and walked her out, talking as they went.

“I’m taking you to the waiting room to get juice and a sweet roll from one of the vending machines before I can let you leave. I don’t know if anyone told you, but the woman needing the donation is a nurse in this hospital. We are all so grateful you came when you got the call. None of this is standard donation procedure, so thank you for going above and beyond for her.”

“I am happy I was close enough to help,” Mercy said.

“You gave her a chance, which is more than she had before you showed up,” the nurse said.

Mercy was still shaky and wanting to sit down as they walked into the waiting room. But two men who were already there stood up and came toward her so fast she took a quick step back.

However, it was the cop standing behind them who caught her eye. She thought for a moment she was hallucinating, then saw the same look of shock on his face as the one she must be wearing. Her gut knotted.

“You! You disappeared seven years ago. I never thought I’d see you again,” he said.

She shrugged. “Seven years is a long time. Neither did I.” She wondered if he’d stayed to give her a ticket for speeding, and then decided she didn’t care.

The brothers began crowding around her, all trying to talk at once.

“Miss Dane, this is Jack Talbot and his brother, Duke. Hope is Jack’s wife, and it appears they’ve figured out who you are. Jack, this is Mercy Dane. She needs juice and a sweet roll from the vending machine.”

“I’ll get it,” he offered, and ran toward the machines at the far end of the room, and then yelled back at his brother to see if he had a debit card on him while the nurse seated Mercy and introduced her to the chief.

“Mercy, this is Chief Pittman. He helped pull Hope from the wreck.” Then she added, “Ideally, you need to sit at least thirty minutes after you’ve finished eating. An hour would be even better.”

Mercy nodded. “Yes, I will, and thank you.”

“Oh no, we’re the ones thanking you. God bless you, Mercy Dane. Have a safe trip home,” she said.

Lon was in shock. Seven years ago he’d spent a week looking for this woman. She was in his arms when he fell asleep, and when he woke she was gone. He’d never forgotten her or that night, and now, fate had brought her back into his world.

“So, Lucky, long time, no see,” he said softly.

She nodded.

“You are one hell of a rider,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “So, Chief, is that your way of saying I was speeding?”

She watched his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he smiled.

“Pretty much, but given the circumstances, I’m gonna let that slide. I stayed because I wanted to meet the donor who willingly interrupted her Christmas Day to save a stranger’s life. I didn’t know I was going to meet an old friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Mercy said, and then blinked as she realized that was what she said before, and added, “I don’t have family. Just a job. I was happy to do it.”

He heard a challenge in her claim…as if daring him to remark about her solitary life. But he wasn’t going to give her a moment of sympathy. “Yeah, same here. Cops and family aren’t necessarily synonymous. Most days I feel like my life is the job. At any rate, you are not what you seem, and I am impressed.”

All of a sudden, a quick wave of weakness washed over her. She bent over and put her head between her knees, trying not to pass out.

Lon caught her just as she was about to slide out of the chair as Jack returned with a bottle of orange juice, a packet of mini-doughnuts, and an iced honey bun. It was pure sugar overload, but Mercy knew it was what her body needed to offset the shock of blood loss.

“Here you go, Miss Dane. If you want more to drink, just let me know,” Jack said, and then pulled out a chair and sat down near her.

Duke was drawn to the woman by her beauty, and unhappy that it appeared the chief and the woman were already acquainted with each other. He followed his younger brother’s lead and sat nearby.

Mercy took a drink of the juice and then tore back the cellophane from the honey bun and took a bite as the chief’s radio squawked. Someone was trying to locate him.

“As you heard, my presence is requested elsewhere,” Lon said, as he stood. “It was a pleasure to meet you again. Take care, Miss Dane, and have a safe ride home.”

“Thank you,” Mercy said.

She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t help it. The years had turned him into quite a man. One thing was the same though. His butt still looked good from behind.

Chapter 3

Jack scooted his chair closer to her. His voice was trembling as he captured her attention. “Miss Dane, there aren’t words enough to thank you for what you’ve done. Hope means everything to me, and I thought I was going to lose her. You have given her a fighting chance.”

“I was happy to help,” she said.

Duke picked up the conversation. “Well, we certainly appreciate it. Hope has no family, so there was no option of having a relative donate, which would have been the normal avenue. She was adopted out of foster care.”

“Then she was lucky to get out. I grew up in foster care and aged out,” Mercy said, and took another bite of the honey bun.

“Where do you live?” Jack asked.

“In Savannah.”

Duke pointed at the helmet that she’d put between her feet. “Did you come here on a motorcycle?”

She nodded. “I don’t own a car.”

He frowned. “Wasn’t your husband upset about you coming all this way alone?”

Mercy resisted the urge to glare. He asked too damn many questions. “I’m not married, but that wouldn’t have mattered. I make my own decisions. No man tells me what to do.”

Duke heard the cold tone in her voice and unconsciously sat up and leaned back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

Mercy sighed. She’d come on too strong to a family who was freaked out, and rightly so. “No. I’m sorry. I guess the defensive wall I keep between me and the world is a little steep.”

She finished off the honey bun and got up to wash the sugar from her fingers. When she came back from the bathroom, she glanced at the clock. Since it was still too early to leave, she took off the leather jacket and sat back down.

The moment she removed it, Duke saw the odd-shaped birthmark on her neck and did a double take. “Unusual birthmark you have there,” he said, pointing at the side of her neck.

“I guess,” Mercy said. “I forget it’s there.”

She drank the last of her juice and then leaned back in the chair, resisting the urge to close her eyes. It wouldn’t take much for her to go to sleep.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Jack asked. “I mean, you look a bit sleepy. I wouldn’t want you to have an accident going home.”

“Yes, actually I would. Coffee sounds like a good idea, but I have money to—”

“Please, let me,” Jack said.

Mercy didn’t argue. She understood his need to give back and closed her eyes rather than continue a conversation. This was a random meeting in their lives, and the sooner she was out of here, the better.

But Duke kept staring. After Jack handed Mercy the coffee and sat back down, Duke and Jack began talking in low tones.

Mercy wasn’t paying any attention until she heard a comment that startled her. “She sure looks like Hope, doesn’t she?” Duke asked.

Jack frowned. “Maybe.”

But Duke was insistent. “Same olive complexion. Same black hair and brown eyes.”

Then Duke realized Mercy was staring at them. “Sorry for talking about you like that,” Duke said. “It was rude.”

Mercy shrugged it off as Duke continued talking. She thought he talked too much, but now that he had her attention, he launched another conversation. “Hope had a little sister when she was in foster care. Her adoptive parents left her behind, and it broke Hope’s heart.”

“That’s too bad, but it happens,” Mercy said.

“She said her little sister had a birthmark on her neck that looked like a valentine heart lying on its side.”

Mercy grabbed her neck before she thought. She could feel herself flushing like she used to when a foster parent would decide she was too wild, too unwilling to conform, and her social worker would come and take her away. Why don’t you try to get along, he would ask.

She never knew what to say. She had no words to describe that she was afraid of everything. That she’d been hurt so many times that her defense mechanism had evolved to being the first to throw a punch or disagree.

“I do remember Hope talking about that,” Jack said, and looked at Mercy anew.

“She said her little sister was only three when that happened,” Duke said.

Mercy stood abruptly. “What you’re implying is impossible. Why are you doing this? You know my name. It was never changed, so obviously, that’s not me.”

“Hope said she always called her Baby Girl. I don’t think I ever heard her mention anything but that.”

Now the room was beginning to spin again, but this time from fear, not weakness.

All of a sudden she was remembering a gritty floor against her bare legs and old shoes on her feet so scuffed they no longer held color. Someone was hugging her and patting her on the back. Don’t cry, Baby Girl. I’ll tie your shoes.

She blinked, and the memory was gone, but she felt off-center and anxious. When she began gathering her things, Duke stood.

“Aren’t you curious?” he asked. “What are the odds that a donor with the same rare blood type as Hope’s, who also looks like her, has the same general coloring, and the same identifying birthmark as the missing sister, isn’t connected?”

Mercy was beginning to shake. She’d been alone all her life, and this felt scary. She was afraid to buy into something only to be disappointed again when it wasn’t true. “It’s not possible,” she said.

“Then let’s determine it right here and now,” Duke said, and pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to a friend who worked in the hospital.

Within moments he got a text back. “My friend, Mark, works in the lab. He’s coming up to get a swab for a DNA test. Is that okay?”

Mercy wanted to run, but the thought of actually having family was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. “I guess,” she said, and sat back down.

A few moments later, Doctor Barrett, the surgeon who had operated on Hope, came into the waiting room.

Jack immediately stood. “How is she, Doctor Barrett?”

“I’m cautiously optimistic,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know her vital signs are improving. She’s not out of the woods by any means, but getting that transfusion was vital.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jack said, and grabbed both of Mercy’s hands. “And thank you again.”

“You’re the donor?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m thanking you too. Hope is a good woman and a fine nurse. What you gave her was a chance to live.”

Mercy was blinking back tears as the doctor left and fighting an urge to run. But if she left now without following through on this sister thing, she would live the rest of her life wondering what would have happened had she stayed.

A few minutes later, a short redheaded man in a lab coat came hurrying into the waiting room. “Is this the lady in question?” he asked.

Duke nodded. “Mark, this is Mercy Dane. Mercy, this is my friend, Mark Lyons.”

Mark smiled. “Hello, Miss Dane. This will only take a few seconds. I just need to get a swab from inside your mouth, okay?”

She nodded.

When he pulled the long swab out of the wrapper, she opened her mouth.

Mark got the sample and secured it. “All finished. When we get the test results, I’ll let Duke know.”

“How long will it take?” Duke asked.

“Hard to say. They’ll take all of the regular requests for people who are waiting for treatment first.”

“Okay then,” Mercy said, and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Duke said. “How can I contact you?”

She wasn’t about to give him her phone number or address. “You can reach me at the Road Warrior Bar in Savannah,” she said, and walked out of the waiting room, then out of the hospital.

The sun was bright as she headed toward her bike. The urgency of her arrival was no longer an issue as she slipped the helmet over her head, mounted the Harley, and started it up. The pipes rumbled as she rode out of the parking lot and back toward Main Street.

***

Lon was standing outside the police station talking on his cell phone when he heard the motorcycle. He ended the call as she approached, and on impulse, waved her over.

Mercy sighed. This meeting had to happen to get past it, so she turned toward the curb and pulled into a parking space. She killed the engine, took off her helmet, and cradled it in her lap as he walked toward her. “Am I in trouble again?” she asked.

“No ma’am, you are not,” he said, and handed her a card. “This is my business card, but the number on the lower left is the number to my personal cell phone. I would sincerely appreciate it if you gave me a call when you get home, just to let me know you arrived safely. I am a bit concerned about the long ride you’re going to have to make so soon after donating blood. I want to know you made it home in one piece. Unlike the last time we parted, when I worried myself sick for some time, wondering what happened to you. Wondering if that thief had come back and taken you away.”

Mercy’s heart skipped a beat as he laid the card in her palm. She’d been so beaten down and wounded by life that she never thought of his feelings when she’d left. “Are you serious?” she asked.

Lon frowned. “Yes, I’m serious. Why would you doubt that?”

She shrugged. “Nobody ever cared.”

He heard a slight tremble in her voice. “Well, I’m not nobody, and I cared before, and I care now.”

She slipped the card into one of the pockets in her jacket and then zipped it up for safekeeping. She didn’t what to think about him. “I never had to check in with anyone before.”

Lon felt like he’d been sideswiped, but didn’t let on. He’d thought it that night together so long ago, and he was thinking it again this Christmas Day. He’d never met anyone like her—a matter-of-fact woman who said what she thought and didn’t use the situation in her life to gain attention or pity.

“You’re not checking in with me, Mercy Dane. If this insults you, then don’t call. But like before, be aware that I will worry, and I will wonder if you ever made it home. I will be grateful if you call. Ride safe. Both times we have crossed paths in sad circumstances. I never got a chance to say it before, but I am truly glad to have met you.”

All of a sudden Mercy was looking at him through a veil of tears. She took a quick breath and jammed the helmet back on her head.

“Thanks for not giving me a ticket,” she said, and started the engine and rode off.

Lon stayed where he was and watched until she disappeared from view—still remembering what it felt like to come apart in her arms.

***

Mercy was shaken by the encounter and didn’t feel easy until she’d put several miles between herself and Blessings. The town was small by Savannah standards, but there was something about it. Some people might have called it quaint. But that wasn’t the adjective Mercy would have used. It took her a few moments to put a name to the vibe she’d gotten just from being there, but when the word came to her, it felt right.

There was an innocence to it. Maybe it had to do with small-town living. She’d never thought about living in a place where you knew most everyone who lived there and had known them since birth. She kept thinking about the depth of concern everyone had for the injured woman…for Hope Talbot. Everyone seemed so friendly, so kind and caring, both for her health and safety, and for Hope.

As for that cop, she didn’t quite know how to feel about him. He didn’t hit on her. He didn’t ask for her number like most of her customers did in the bar. He just wanted to know that she made it home. How had he worded it? Oh yes. In one piece. If she made it home in one piece.

Almost as suddenly as that thought slid through her mind, a car on her left in the passing lane suddenly swerved toward her. She swerved toward the ditch, certain he was going to hit her. At the last moment, he overcorrected and swerved hard to the left and drove into the center median.

She caught a glimpse of the car as it began to roll and breathed a shaky sigh of relief that she wasn’t the one rolling. She glanced in her side mirror and saw a number of cars were already stopping, so she kept on going, glad she was still upright and healthy.

About forty-five minutes later, she hit the city limits of Savannah and took an exit ramp that would take her home.

Fifteen minutes more, and she had arrived at her apartment complex and locked up her bike. She paused to stretch before going upstairs and gazed around the complex, noting the number of Christmas wreaths and big red bows decorating doors and balconies.

It was almost noon on a clear, cold Christmas Day.

She thought about the cop’s card in her pocket, and on impulse pulled it out and gave him a call. When he answered, she realized she’d been holding her breath for the sound of his voice. “Hello?”

“It’s me, Mercy. I’m home.”

“Good news! Are you feeling okay?”

She shivered as the deep rasp in his voice rolled through her. “Yes, Chief, I’m fine, and thank you for asking.”

“Thank you for calling to ease my mind. Next time we meet, call me Lon. Merry Christmas to you, Mercy Dane.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she said, and disconnected.

She started up the steps to her apartment with a bounce in her walk. It was a good day.

***

Lon was still smiling as he dropped the phone back in his pocket. For a day that had started out in a near tragedy, it was turning into a really good day.

 

 

Cover Reveal….Stand by A.L. Jackson

 STAND

A Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel

Coming May 22nd

Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Models: Tyler Halligan & Madelyn DeSantis
From NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson comes the next seductive, unforgettable Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel…
Zachary Kennedy has never been known as a fighter, but he’ll never regret fighting for her…
I’m Zee Kennedy.
Quiet. Reserved. Predictable.
When my brother died, everyone thought I was just the good guy who stepped up to take his place in the band.
No one knew what I was hiding. The one thing I’ve been fighting for.
For six years, I’ve never lost focus.
Not until one chance encounter with Alexis Kensington.
Now she’s become my greatest temptation.
I knew better than to touch her, but now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t get enough.
Her kiss becomes my air. Her body my salvation.
She needed a savior and somehow she became mine.
Taking her was a betrayal. But keeping her means risking everything.
One look at Alexis Kensington, and I know she’s worth the fight.
Will my past continue to keep me down or will I finally find the strength to pull myself up and Stand…

 

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Tingles rushed, my words nothing more than pants as he kissed down through the valley of my breasts. “Maybe you’re just remembering who you are. Who you were always supposed to be.”
I felt as if I was so close to knowing him. This boy who’s beauty had been muted.
He groaned, half pained, half demand. “You almost make me feel like him.”
Yanking me away from the railing, he hoisted me high. My legs were wrapped high around his chest as he carried me the rest of the way to the upper loft. To this magical place where twilight touched every corner, whispered its secrets and danced in its shadows.
He’d barely tossed me to the bed when he was over me, shoving up my dress and ripping it free, my fingers just as frantic as I tore his shirt over his head. I searched him, hands racing across his chest, feeling the wild beat of his conflicted heart, hearing the struggle that whimpered from his spirit.
He angled down and captured my mouth again. He kissed and bit and nipped as he held my face steady in the frame of his hands. Then he edged down, driving me wild with this murmurs of kisses at my jaw and ear and neck.
“Zachary…please.”
I writhed, dizziness rushing as I stared up at him towering over me.
His body was brimming with hard, cut muscle. Muscle that jumped and ticked and flexed, as if the desire thrumming in his veins stalked back and forth, a caged predator, searching for a way to be released.
My gaze traveled across the tattoo on his chest.
Relentless.
“Fight for me,” I begged.

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A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, as well as the newest BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for the next installment STAND, coming Spring 2017.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 24587 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

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Teaser Blitz…..Lethal Lies by Rebecca Zanetti

ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: LETHAL LIES

Author: Rebecca Zanetti

Series: Blood Brothers, #2

On Sale: May 16, 2017

Publisher: Forever

Trade Paperback: $14.99 USD

eBook: $5.99 USD

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“4 1/2 stars! Top pick! This is a true thriller that will keep readers frantically flipping the pages as death and danger come at the protagonists from several directions.  Zanetti’s brilliance at storytelling is on full display…When it comes to high-octane thrillers, they don’t get better than Zanetti!” —RT Book Reviews on LETHAL LIES

“Zanetti balances the adventure and menace of Zara and Ryker’s lives with a relatable romance. The result is a story that’s sexy and emotional, and filled with a rich look at love in all its forms.” —The Washington Post on DEADLY SILENCE

“Budget your time, readers, because this is one that’s hard to put down.” —HeroesandHeartbreakers.com on DEADLY SILENCE

A deadly secret can’t stay buried forever . . .

Revenge. It’s the only thing that will help Anya Best sleep at night. The serial killer who murdered her sister is on the loose, and Anya will stop at nothing to put him behind bars—even use herself as bait to lure him out of hiding. But she can’t do this alone.

Private investigator Heath Jones’s job is to bring bastards to justice. This time it’s personal. He knew the Copper Killer’s latest victim so when her sister asks for his help, he’s all in. But when Anya uses the media to taunt the killer, she exposes Heath’s identity, putting them both in jeopardy. Now, secrets buried long ago are coming to light and the forces determined to destroy him are watching Heath’s every move, waiting to exact their own revenge. And they’ll use anything and anyone to get to Heath.

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EXCERPT

 

“All the more reason to get you out of town,” Heath said quietly.

She shook her head. “No. I’m staying.” Her words were brave, but her chest hurt. No way could she deal with a serial killer all on her own. She could train every day for the rest of her life and not end up as practiced or as deadly as Heath already was, and she knew it. “I understand you have other cases and people after you. So leave, and I’ll handle this myself.”

“Those are big words, baby,” he said softly.

Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it. “I know. I promised her, Heath. It’s all I have left to give to her.”

He paused, understanding crossing his expression. “Ah, sweetheart. Your sister wouldn’t want that for you.” His voice turned velvety and soft. Soothing.

Anya nodded. “I know. But she was my sister. We shared blood and part of a childhood. She took me trick-or-treating when I was five, and it’s one of my best memories. Then when I needed help as an adult, she didn’t hesitate. She came to me right away, like family. She was the first person I really cared about in far too long, and it hurts like hell that I got her killed.”

He breathed out, the emotion in his eyes deepening.

She swallowed. “I have to do this for her. Either you understand that or you don’t.”

“Why don’t you just let us handle it?”

She pressed her point. “I could, but you need me. I’m the bait.” Inwardly, she winced at the description. That wouldn’t help her to convince him. “Also, here’s the deal. This could be a long op. At some point, you have to leave and deal with whatever is haunting you from your past. When you do, I’ll just challenge him again, and next time you won’t be around to assist.”

“That’s extortion,” Heath said, amusement curving his lip.

She grinned. “Apparently I’m getting quite good at it.”

Heath shook his head. “You’re putting me in an untenable position, baby.”

“No, I’m not.” She shrugged out of his hold. Finally. “I’m not yours to protect, Heath. We’re not together, and we’re not responsible for each other.” The words sliced through her even as she said them. “You’ve been more than clear on that score.”

“There’s something here, Anya. Maybe something real and lasting, if I get everything done I need to do.”

She blinked. “What’s that?”

“The less you know the better. Believe me.”

“What a bunch of bullshit. Go back to your ‘This is fake’ proclamation,” she all but yelled. “Your position is one of work . . . and this is just work.”

His chin lifted. “You think this is just work?” The tone—low and filled with tension—zinged through her body.

Her legs trembled with the urge to take a step back. “Yes.”

“Want me to prove otherwise?” His eyes darkened to the color of the sky right before midnight hit.

As a threat, as a warning, it was damn good. But she’d gone too far to give in now. “You can’t.” Yeah, she’d just waved a red flag in front of a bull.

He didn’t move a muscle. His focus on her was so absolute, she wanted to squirm. “You’re into challenging dangerous men these days, aren’t you?”

She kept her stance. “You’re not all that dangerous, Heath.”

His smile stole her breath. Then he moved. Faster than she could track, he had her by the armpits and up in the air as he carried her toward the bedroom with such speed that her legs automatically wound around to clasp his rib cage. By the time she sucked in air to protest, her butt was on the bed, and he was flattening himself over her.

She struggled, her body on fire, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

His mouth crushed hers, and she stilled.

Heat.

Fire.

True danger.

He held nothing back, kissing her hard, pressing her head into the comforter. His tongue worked hers, his powerful body plastered against hers, and his hands dug into her hair to hold her in place. Desire spun so quickly into need she couldn’t breathe, even when he wasn’t controlling her mouth.

She shifted against him, closing her eyes to kiss him back. This was what she’d wanted. All of this.

He nipped her lip, soothing the slight pain with another kiss. Then he traced along her jawline, kissing and nipping, finally reaching her earlobe, where he bit.

She arched against him, letting out a soft sigh.

“Anya.” His fingers tangled in her hair, and erotic pain tingled down her scalp. One of his strong arms slid around her waist and then down. His palm spread across her butt, and he ground her against his hard cock.

Pleasure swamped her, and mini explosions flew through her sex. The idea passed, somewhat fleetingly, that he wasn’t playing. Not at all.

Yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her knees widened, and she rubbed against him. “This feels real,” she whispered.

 

THE BLOOD BROTHERS SERIES

DEADLY SILENCE, #1

LETHAL LIES, #2

TWISTED TRUTHS, #3

Series Page on Goodreads

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over twenty-five romantic suspense, dark paranormal, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestseller lists. She has received a Publisher’s Weekly Starred Review for Wicked Edge, Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Nominations for Forgotten Sins and Sweet Revenge, and RT Top Picks  for several of her novels.  She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat…and a huge extended family.  She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off…and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out.

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