Meredith definitely drank too much last night. Why on earth else would she have woken up without her purse, and the distinct memory of giving her number to a stripper? So gross.
The good news is, she never has to see him again. Except to get her purse. And to discover she did another terrible, horrible, very bad thing while drunk- she accidentally became a professional penis photographer.
Rob wishes more people would believe him when he says he truly is stripping his way through journalism school. It’s the only way Millennials can afford school with no student loans. When Meredith quite literally stumbles across his path, he’s super smitten. Sadly, she is less so once she sobers up.
Can he trick her into dating him?
Can she trick her mother into thinking she has a respectable job?
And can anyone recover once the internet picks up their story? It’s a long shot for both of them.
I have mixed feelings on this book. There are parts that I really enjoyed and there are parts that I could have done without.
Kayti McGee does write some interesting characters. However, I had a really hard time connecting to Meredith and Rob. Honestly, I truly didn’t care for Meredith and til about the 60% mark, Rob came across as a total tool to me. After that, Rob did redeem himself and actually that’s where the book got it’s higher ranking of a 3 from me.
The beginning was just too cheesy for me. While I did enjoy Meredith’s inner dialogue, she came across as too much of a snob and bitchy. Now Meredith’s sister, Jane, I loved her. She made me laugh – a lot!
The interactions between the characters kept the antics going (sometimes a little over the top). The banter between Meredith and Rob, while at times made me roll my eyes, definitely helped keep the heat between them.
Did I love this book, not so much. Will I read another of Kayti’s books, absolutely. While this one may not have blown my socks off, it wasn’t enough to deter me away from others.
Kayti McGee is a former Kansas Citian who now follows the Royals from Colorado. Besides writing, her hobbies include travel, cooking, and all thing Whovian. She also writes as the latter half of Laurelin McGee. Like her co-author Laurelin Paige, she joined Mensa for no other reason than to make her bio more interesting.
The whole world might be in love with him. But all he’s ever loved is her. Grant Turner’s name is synonymous with football. The fans and media can’t get enough of the player known as The Invincible Man, a nickname he earned while growing up in one of the toughest neighborhoods in the country and the nickname he’s kept by being one of the best players in professional football today. No one can take him down. He’s unstoppable. But even a suit of armor has its weak point, and Grant’s has always been Ryan Hale. They were a couple of kids when they fell in love, and just when it looked like the happy ending neither expected was within reach, Ryan disappeared. No explanations. No good-byes. Grant coped by throwing himself into the game for seven years, and he’s finally moved on. Or so he thinks. When she walks back into his life, all of those feelings come crashing back, despite the warnings in his head that tell him she’ll leave him again. Grant can withstand the league’s toughest defensive line, but he’s always been weak where she’s concerned. No man can take Grant Turner down. But one woman certainly can. One woman will.
Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.
There may only be one killer, but no one is innocent in this new young adult thriller from Natasha Preston, author of The Cellar, a New York Times Bestseller,and Awake
They think they’re invincible.
They think they can do and say whatever they want.
They think there are no consequences.
They’ve left me no choice.
It’s time for them to pay for their sins.
A weekend partying at a remote cabin is just what Mackenzie needs. She can’t wait to let loose with her friends. But a crazy night of fun leaves two of them dead—murdered.
With no signs of a forced entry or struggle, suspicion turns to the five survivors. Someone isn’t telling the truth. And Mackenzie’s first mistake? Assuming the killing is over…
Starting on August 30, we’ll be releasing a series of questions every Tuesday and Thursday at different locations.
Here’s how you play:
1. Take a look at the schedule below.
2. Go to the location on the specified date.
3. Find The Cabin graphic with the question.
4. Solve the question.
5. Head here to submit your answer for that day’s question.
6. Complete all 8 questions and be entered in to win a $500 Visa gift card! We’ll also be drawing a winner each week who will win a Sourcebooks Fire book bundle!
7. Make sure to submit all answers by September 25, 2016.
Saturday, August 8
I cracked my eyes open and they were immediately stung by the evil morning light. It didn’t help that the room was a bright yellow. Groaning, I ran my hands over my face. I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. My head throbbed, and every time I swallowed, I felt as if I were downing sawdust. To make matters worse, this time Blake wasn’t waking me up. My hangovers weren’t usually this bad. Last night, I had drunk a lot, but nowhere near enough to feel as awful as I did. When had I become such a humongous lightweight? Blake lay on his side, with one arm and one leg thrown over me. He looked peaceful. Whatever weighed on his mind during the day didn’t trouble him while he slept.
Biting my lip, I watched him sleep, feeling a bit like a creeper. I had never had a one–night stand, so my experience with the morning after was nonexistent. I knew the general idea was to leave ASAP, but in this situation, that was impossible. We were spending the weekend in the same secluded place, and it’s not like I had my own car.
Oh God. I had a one–night stand! I tried to calm myself. It’s fine. You’re an adult, remember? Adults do this all the time. But I didn’t. Why had I allowed myself to sleep with Blake when I hadn’t even known him twenty–four hours?
Shut up, it’s fine. You’re allowed to be into a guy, to have a good time.
I had to get a grip. There was nothing I could do to change what had happened. But neither of us needed to freak out or make this awkward—-and by neither of us, I meant me. We were attracted to each other and acted on it. We were both into it, both consenting adults. It’d be fine. Besides, I felt too ill to worry much anyway.
Pushing myself up, I flopped and fell back against the mattress. My heavy stomach rolled. Oh God. I had no energy. I needed water, aspirin, and to throw up the remaining alcohol that was still sloshing around in my system.
Never again. Never ever, ever, ever again.
My movements woke Blake. He removed his hand from my stomach and rubbed his face. “I feel like death,” he groaned.
Blushing because of the situation we were in, I replied, “Join the club.”
He smiled at me. “How do you not look like hell in the morning? I mean, you’ve got that stunning, post–sex glow that’s turning me on.”
Seriously? “How can you feel like crap and still want sex?”
He replied, “Have you ever seen yourself, Mackenzie?”
His comment made me bite my lip. I didn’t think I was that pretty, but I kind of loved how he saw me. Everyone wanted someone to think they were special, and my ex never had. Blake made me feel sexy and appreciated, which was nice, even if I broke my own rules.
“I…” I what? What did I want to say?
Chuckling quietly, he shoved himself up and reached for his jeans. “I need food and strong coffee. Do you know what everyone has planned for today?”
Following his lead, I grabbed my clothes and started to get dressed. I flicked my gaze at him to make sure he wasn’t looking at me. He was. “We’re going down to the lake to swim. Aaron wants to feed everyone barbecue food all day; then we’re making a bonfire in the evening.”
Blake stilled. “You’re making a fire in the middle of the forest?”
“A small bonfire. We’re not setting trees alight.”
“At least not purposefully,” he muttered. “I’m overseeing that.”
“Oversee away. I’m sure Aaron would love the help.”
“It’s not Aaron I want to hang out with.”
Holy…
I bit my lip. “Well, good.”
He lifted an eyebrow while staring into my eyes. “Yes, it is.”
If he kept looking at me like that, I was going to explode. I already felt too hot.
From debut author Jessica Linden comes a sexy romantic suspense novel featuring an MMA fighter and an heiress on the run who must stay together if they are to defeat what hunts them…and explore the passion that surrounds them.
Book Description
Raised in the streets, Knox is a battle-worn MMA fighter with no past, present, or future. Fighting every day just to survive, Knox owns nothing but the pride in his victories and the scars on his hands. When his control snaps and he must flee the city to keep his life, he runs into a stunning woman with the same intent. All big eyes and delicate features, she’s not cut out to survive on her own. And when finding her own inner strength leads to a shocking act of violence, Knox knows he must protect her at all costs…
Natalie couldn’t spend another day under her father’s lock and key. Raised to be the perfect picture of wealth and sophistication, she detests the dark, ugly side of her father’s greed. Refusing to be held captive by her life a moment longer, she escapes his fortress – and runs right into the arms of the strongest, most dangerous, most desirable man she’s ever met. As instant attraction leads to explosive passion, Natalie finds she cannot leave his side. But as their pursuers loom closer and threaten to tear them apart, Natalie and Knox have to decide: is it easier to stand apart? Or is a love this strong worth the fight?
Natalie spun, and her eyes focused on her rescuer, getting a good look at him for the first time. His eyes were hard and fierce, and for a moment she regretted not listening to his demands that she run. She should be scared. This man was dangerous. He looked it, and she’d already seen firsthand what he was capable of. Would she be any safer with him?
Yes. Instinctively she knew she was. He’d put his life on the line to save hers. She could trust him.
Looking into his eyes now, she felt the panic slowly begin to leave her and her thoughts became a little more coherent. Looking at him, in the middle of this blood-soaked horrible alley, she found her center in an unlikely place—in the abyss of his dark eyes. Something clicked when she looked at him.
“Are you okay?” re repeated.
She nodded, then glanced to the side at the body next to her. His back was to her and through his hair matted with blood, she could see into his head. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. Even though she knew the answer, she had to ask.
“Is he … did I kill him?”
His expression was grim, and she knew she had. She was a murderer. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
No, stop. There was no time for this. She looked at the man’s face again and found her focus.
His face softened a touch, and he held his hand out. “Come on.”
She looked up at him. “What should we do?”
“We need to get out of here.”
She looked over at the body once more and wrapped her arms around herself. “I killed him.” Her lip trembled, but she sucked it in. This was no time for tears.
“You had no choice.” He paused. “Why was he after you?”
“He was sent by my father.” Her voice was mechanical. She didn’t even know this guy’s name. She squeezed her eyes shut. That’s not important right now. “My father is not a good man,” she added.
Sirens blared in the distance.
“Fuck.” He grabbed the gun and hastily wiped it down with his T-shirt, then hesitated briefly before tossing it into the Dumpster.
“We need to get out of here,” he repeated holding out his hand again. The sirens got louder, their urgency snapping her out of her fog, and she put her hand in his.
Author Bio
JESSICA LINDEN lives in Virginia with her college-sweetheart husband, two rambunctious sons, and two rowdy but lovable rescue dogs. Since her house is overflowing with testosterone, it’s a good thing she has a healthy appreciation for Marvel movies, Nerf guns, and football. Her books include Fight for Me.
Junkie and Jagger by are Heather C. Leigh’s latest creation. The Broken Doll Series is a dark romance duet about a heroin addict who falls in love with the drug lord holding her captive and drops on September 13th!
I’m a heroin addict. A junkie. A whore. I’ll do anything to get my next fix.
Anything.
Including walking right onto the property of Austin’s most ruthless and feared drug lord to beg for some H. I don’t know his name, only that people call him Boss. Oh, and that he won’t think twice to put a bullet in my head.
But like I said, I’ll do anything to get my next fix. Even if it costs me my life.
I sell drugs. Heroin to be specific. And I’m fucking good at my job. Enough to fight my way to the top position, controlling all of Austin’s supply.
So what if I had to kill the previous boss to do it. I do what has to be done. Never cared about consequences because I never had anything to lose.
Until I met Miri. My doll. She’s my weakness and somehow, my enemies found out about her.
If they hurt her, they will regret the day they ever heard my name. Boss. They call me Boss for a reason. What I say goes, including the price on the heads of anyone who dares to fuck with what belongs to me.
Heather C. Leigh is the author of the Amazon best selling Famous series. She likes to write about the ‘dark’ side of fame. The part that the public doesn’t get to see, how difficult it is to live in a fishbowl and how that affects relationships.
Heather was born and raised in New England and currently lives outside Atlanta, GA with her husband, 2 kids, and French Bulldog, Shelby.
She loves the Red Sox, the Patriots, and anything chocolate (but not white chocolate, everyone knows it’s not real chocolate so it doesn’t count) and has left explicit instructions in her will to have her ashes snuck into Fenway Park and sneakily sprinkled all over while her family enjoys beer, hot dogs, and a wicked good time.
My favorite authors are Dan Wells, Ken Follett, and Stephen King.
The favor seemed simple: Keep my new stepsister out of trouble for one summer.
I’ve never met Grace Lee, but Mom tells me she’s a quiet and artsy college student with a troubled past. When I agreed to let her stay with me, I thought it was no big deal. I expected to share my apartment with a sullen girl who’d spend hours locked in her room.
I didn’t expect a walking fantasy determined to make me lose my cool.
I didn’t expect a woman with secrets so dark, so deep, I’d throw away everything if it would save her from the past.
Rushing in to do this favor is turning my life upside down—and not just because Grace needs her ass spanked. Keep her out of trouble? Grace is the trouble. And I want in.
I shrug. “It’s not like it’s full-length and gonna get tangled around my legs or anything.”
His gaze drifts down my body again, this time landing on the thigh visible beneath the hem of my dress. “It’s certainly not,” he mumbles, and the way he says it has my cheeks burning and me reaching for my water.
So damn thirsty.
We finish packing up our lunch together, and after we put the cooler back in the car, I grab the park pamphlet out of the front seat. “Come on,” I say, nodding in the direction of the outlook. “It’s my turn to be in charge.”
The park is beautiful, but as soon as we enter the woods and I see the overlook, my breath catches. From here, we have a view of the ravine below and the creek rushing through the bottom. Mossy rock faces make up the ravine walls, and trees protrude from them. It’s possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I head past the overlook and take the stairs down into the ravine. It’s shady back here and feels ten degrees cooler than our picnic table in the sun.
At the bottom of the stairs, the trail splits in three directions, and when I follow the sign with the three, Chris puts his hand on my arm. “Hey, this one has ladders.”
I arch a brow and drop my gaze to my shoes. “I can handle it.”
Something passes over his face I don’t understand, and then he sighs and nods. “Okay, but I’m climbing the ladders behind you. If any creep is going to be looking up your dress today, it’s gonna be me.”
My cheeks heat, and my brain instantly diagrams his words and starts analyzing the nuance of each. Just comedy or more? Stupid brain. “Fair enough.”
He mutters something that sounds like “Dreams really do come true,” but I can’t be sure.
The trail leads down into the ravine and along the creek bed. It’s so much cooler down here, and I love the sound of the creek rock crunching under my feet as we walk along.
By the time we come upon the first ladder, there’s no one else around.
“Ladies first,” he says, gesturing toward the ladder.
“Pervert,” I mutter, but I move forward and begin my climb. The rungs are coated in mud, and when I’m halfway up, one foot slips and suddenly Chris’s hands are there, holding me steady, his hands strong and warm against the backs of my legs.
My breath catches, and I force myself to breathe and find my footing. The feel of his hands against my skin causes something to swirl hot and tight low in my belly.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice as thick as the forest beyond the trail.
I’m not okay. I’m afraid to move. Afraid not to move. Trapped by a fear that has nothing to do with a slippery ladder and everything to do with falling.
Then, slowly, his thumbs begin to slide over my skin. His hands inch up my thighs until his fingertips skim the bottom edge of my underwear and slip under to trace the bottom curve of my ass.
I cannot breathe.
I force myself to turn my head and look down at him. His jaw is set tight, a picture of self-control, but when his eyes meet mine, his face relaxes and he shoots me a boyish grin. I attempt my best poker face. “Are you copping a feel, Christopher Montgomery?”
His grin goes wide, putting his dimples on full display. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his Southern accent drawing out his words. “I’m just trying to perform a necessary rescue mission.”
“Do I look like I need rescuing?” I ask. Under the lace edge of my panties, his thumb strokes again, a long, slow motion that makes me want to close my eyes and moan. I resist and hold his gaze.
“Who said you’re the one I’m rescuing? Maybe I’m trying to save myself.” He drops his hands and grabs a hold of the sides of the ladder, then he climbs up behind me so his body is pressed against mine, my back to his front. His mouth hovers above my ear, his breath hot and uneven. “Because I swear if I have to go much longer without touching you, I’m going to implode.”
His lips skim my earlobe, and my eyes float closed. My brain has no room for sight when it’s overloaded with sensations. His lips on my ear. His hard chest against my back. His breath against my neck. “I need to know, Grace.”
I open my eyes and swallow hard. I don’t want to talk. Not right now. I’m too afraid I’ll ruin this moment with my choppy stutter. “What?”
“I need to know . . .” He leans his forehead against my shoulder, and I watch his knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the side of the ladder.
On the ground beneath us, someone clears his throat. “You two heading up or down?”
Chris mutters a curse and takes a step down so I have the freedom to move. I scramble up the ladder with him behind me. When we reach the top, I can’t look at him.
“Sorry about that,” he calls to the people below, then he grabs my wrist and pulls me off to the right toward a rocky alcove just off the trail. A wooden sign tells me this is “The Devil’s Ice Box,” and beyond the sign, a thin waterfall drizzles into a pool of crystal-clear water. Chris leads the way, following the rocky edge around to the backside of this semi-secluded space and stopping by the waterfall. I pass him, feigning interest in the rocks and water so I don’t have to meet his eyes. There’s a cavern behind the waterfall, a haven from the falling water.
“I have to know,” Chris says, his words nearly drowned out by the falling water. “Is it just me? Everything I feel when you’re close to me? Tell me you feel it too.”
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of emotional romance that sizzles, Lexi enjoys reading, sunshine, a good glass of wine, and rare trips to the beach.
Lexi lives in Indiana with her husband, two children, and neurotic dog. You can find her at her website: lexiryan.com
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katee Robert continues her smoking-hot series about the O’Malleys—wealthy, powerful, and full of scandalous family secrets.
Greed. Ambition. Violence. Those are the “values” Olivia Rashidi learned from her Russian mob family-and the values she must leave behind for the sake of her daughter. When she meets Cillian O’Malley, she recognizes the red flag of his family name…yet she still can’t stop herself from seeing the smoldering, tortured man. To save her family, Olivia sets out to discover Cillian’s own secrets, but the real revelation is how fast—and how hard—she’s falling for him.
Plagued by a violent past, Cillian is more vulnerable than anyone realizes. Anyone except Olivia, whose beauty, compassion, and pride have him at “hello,” even if she’s more inclined to say good-bye to an O’Malley. While his proposal of sex with no strings seems simple, what he feels for her isn’t, especially after he learns that she belongs to a rival crime family. Cillian knows that there is no escape from the life, but Olivia may be worth trying—and dying—for.
Need another drink?” The words were clear despite the general ruckus of the bar, the voice like whiskey on the rocks. If Cillian O’Malley put a little imagination into it, he could almost taste her tone. It was the closest he’d come to having an actual drink in ten months.
Olivia.
He looked up, straight into night-dark eyes that made him think reckless thoughts about leaning across this bar and kissing the hell out of this woman. It was something the old Cillian would have done, and if the look on her face was any indication, he would have gotten the shit kicked out of him for the effort. He smiled despite the dark mood that had brought him wandering into Jameson’s to begin with. “Hey, gorgeous.”
The guarded look on her face was the same as the first time they’d met, like she expected him to whip out a gun and start shooting or threaten her or some shit like that. Since he knew for a fact he’d ever so much as raised his voice at her in the two times they’d interacted previously, it stung a little that that was her knee-jerk reaction to him.
And it made him want to show her how wrong she was.
“You know, I’d pay good money to know what I did to piss you off so much.”
Olivia’s expression iced over in a way that would send a smarter man running. It just made Cillian more intrigued. He’d been caught up in his family’s dramas for so long, it was refreshing to having an unconnected interaction—even if it was with someone who hated him. Hell, it was almost better this way.
It just added to the tangled mess inside him caused by sitting in this bar. Jameson’s and he had a complicated history that he’d never be able to escape. It was the last place his family had felt whole. He’d been here with his brothers, Aiden and Teague and Devlin, on the final night when they’d been celebrating Teague’s impending marriage. Devlin had been shot in a drive-by on the way home, and the O’Malley family had lost the closest thing to an innocent they could call their own. Cillian hated this place as much as he loved it, but it was here his feet brought him when he wandered.
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, which only served to accent the way her breasts pressed against her shredded T-shirt. It wasn’t ripped enough to be truly indecent, but he could see several slices of her dusky skin beneath the black fabric, and it was distracting as hell. She cleared her throat, but he still gave her body a slow look, taking in her spiked combat boots, tiny skirt, coming back to that shirt, and then settling on her face. She was beautiful in the way good models were—a little too sharp for strictly traditional good looks, but all the more striking because of it. The mass of dark hair and the anger in near-black eyes took her over the edge into devastating.
She looked like the kind of mistake he would have jumped at a year ago. He had jumped at her six months ago when they’d first met, and it had gone in the same direction their current interaction was headed. She’d taken an instant dislike to him, and nothing he could say seemed to convince her that he wasn’t this monster she seemed to label him as.
So much had happened between then and now, so much that weighed him down and threatened to drag him under for good. He hadn’t even been out by himself since he was shot—the same night he’d last seen Olivia. He rubbed his shoulder, half-sure he could feel the scar beneath the fabric of his shirt.
What would it be like to be that carefree and crazy version of himself, just for one more night?
Katee Robert learned to tell stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her favorites then were the rather epic adventures of The Three Bears, but at age twelve she discovered romance novels and never looked back.
Though she dabbled in writing, life got in the way-as it often does-and she spent a few years traveling, living in both Philadelphia and Germany. In between traveling and raising her two wee ones, she had the crazy idea that she’d like to write a book and try to get published.
Her first novel was an epic fantasy that, God willing, will never see the light of day. From there, she dabbled in YA and horror, before finally finding romance. Because, really, who wouldn’t want to write entire books about the smoking-hot relationships between two people?
She now spends her time-when not lost in Far Reach worlds-playing imaginary games with her wee ones, writing, ogling men, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
Living in a world where I was worth more dead than alive was
a choice. I was a bad man, never claimed to be anything else. I’ve done things
I’m not proud of. Seen things that can’t be unseen. I’ve caused pain that I
can’t undo.
It was all my choice.
Every decision.
Every order.
Right and wrong never mattered.
Until her.
She was under my protection, until she became my obsession.
But who was going to save her…
From. Me. The devil himself.
Fate brought us together. Destiny destroyed us.
“Go stretch again, cariño,” I ordered in a dominant tone. Nodding to the barre. “I’m fine,” she stubbornly replied. Shaking her legs and arms out. Getting back into position, looking at me through the mirror. I cocked my head to the side, arching an eyebrow. She narrowed her eyes at me, but begrudgingly listened. I pressed play, allowing the melody to once again take over. She placed her leg on the lowest barre, making her ass stick out in my direction.
Tempting me.
She closed her eyes, needing to get lost in the music, wanting to push away all the negative thoughts, already feeling discouraged. I stood, taking off my suit jacket. Rolling up the sleeves of my collared shirt as I stepped onto the hardwood floor. I slowly came up behind her, catching her off guard.
She froze, turning around, opening her eyes. Peering up at me through her lashes. “What are you doing?”
I leaned forward against her ear, grinning. “I’m helping you stretch.” Getting down on my knees in front of her.
Her eyes dilated. The feeling of disappointment replaced with nothing but lust. She placed her arms out to the side, resting up against the barre, supporting her weight. I grabbed her ankle, lifting it up in the air, rubbing along her leg as it was fully stretched, before setting it on the lowest barre. Running my other hand up her side, easing her over toward the extended leg. She understood what I was doing, reaching for her ankle, stretching. Standing back up, bringing her arms above her head, I caressed along her leg again, casually turning her torso so her leg was still placed on the barre behind her.
Her breathing hitched as I touched her all over her lower body. My lips softly kissing the inside of her thigh to where she wanted my mouth the most.
USA Today Bestselling Author of The Good Ol’ Boys Standalone
Series, The VIP Trilogy, Tempting Bad, and Two Sides.
M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has
angst, romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been
reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein.
She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She
is currently pursuing her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left.
She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces.
They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.
From his dirty-blond hair and breathtaking smile, to the abs from heaven and the irresistible V in his waistline, everything about Bodi Olympic-gold-medalist Banks screams hot piece of @$$.
Yet there’s more.
Dark shadows lurk behind his soulful, serious eyes.
I’m enamored. He’s captured me.
How can running an art foundation with Bodi Banks turns into a slow-burning, epic romance, even though he tries to push me away at every chance? How can I stay away from a broken, routine-driven man whose soul cries to be forgiven for a crime only he believes he committed? Or is that a lie?
NOW AVAILABLE!
STROKED by Meghan Quinn
Released: July 19, 2016
Cover Designer: Murphy Rae
BLURB:
Reese King: Olympic medalist, underwear model, Greek god.
His body is chiseled from rock, sculpted by the weight room, and refined by water.
On a daily basis his skin is completely bare for everyone to see, tan and defined, only covered up by a minuscule piece of spandex. There is no denying his sex appeal.
I hate to admit it, but I’m head over heels infatuated with him.
There is one HUGE problem though. His achingly gorgeous abs, inked up arm, and cocky swagger belong to my boss, the high-profile, reality star bitch from hell and certified heinous human being, Bellini Chambers.
What I think is going to be an easy job assisting a glorified wench turns into a cluster f*ck of epic proportions.
About the Author:
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
From NYT & USA Today bestselling author comes a new Bleeding Stars stand-alone novel…
She is his strength and he is her weakness. And this time he won’t let her go.
Edie Evans is gorgeous.
Sexy.
Kind.
She’s also the definition of off-limits.
But that didn’t stop me from sneaking into her room to comfort her at night.
But guys like me? We destroy everything, so it should have been no surprise when I destroyed us, too.
The night I sent her running, I thought I’d never see her again.
Until I saw her standing like a vision in the crowd.
Austin Stone is dangerous.
Alluring.
Tempting.
He broke my heart and I refused to give him the chance to do it again.
It’s been years since I’ve seen him, and now I can’t do anything but stare at the gorgeous, tattooed man playing onstage. I should run. I know I should. But like a fool, I run straight back to him.
Our desire is overpowering.
Our need unrelenting.
She is my hope.
He is my weakness.
We should have known a passion this intense would burn us right into the ground.
How in the hell do I start this review? Where do I begin? A.L. has left me utterly speechless, again.
“He would be my ruin. My utter demise. My chaotic, blissful end.”
A.L. has delivered a story that is emotional, intense, raw and absolutely beautiful. This story holds so much power, you will find yourself savoring every word of this book. Wait is packed full of intense and deep emotions, you will find yourself wrapped up in this book and never wanting it to end.
“The first time I touched you was the first time I breathed.”
Wait is the story of Austin, Baz’s younger brother and Edie, Ash’s younger sister. Austin is a broken soul and one who is bound to destroy everything he loves. Edie is facing her own demons. These two form a bond as young teenagers behind the backs of everyone else. She was his light and he was her safehaven. But an unintentional betrayal tears Edie and Austin apart, leaving them both lost again. Til fate returns.
“Trust. I did. I trusted this broken boy. So I whispered my secret. Offered it to him. To hold it. Protect it. Until the day he crushed it in his hands.”
This story pulled at my heart strings. We get to see the story from both Edie and Austin’s POVs along with flashbacks that bring us to the present. My heart was pulled in every direction reading this story. I didn’t expect to cry so much while reading this book. They were tears of both of joy and sadness.
“When you’re here it doesn’t hurt so bad.”
As I said before, this is an intensely emotional read. One I highly recommend!!
“Shit,” I hissed, bracing myself against the spray of the icy shards pelting from the shower head.
I sucked in a breath, released it between clenched teeth, and forced myself fully under it.
Head dropped and chest heaving as rivers of ice-cold water slicked down my shoulders and back.
But it did nothing to lessen the need. Gave me no sanity or pacification.
Because all I could think about was the girl on the other side of the door.
My girl.
In my bed.
Wearing just her panties and my shirt.
An angel I wanted to dirty.
I always had.
Love was messy like that.
All of my restraint scattered. I gripped my cock. Squeezed the base. My mouth dropped open at the pressure of my hand against my rigid length.
A fool thinking it might be enough.
Shit.
God, I was a bastard, but there was nothing I could do before I was giving in, leaning forward and bracketing my forearm above my head to hold my weight.
Water pounded down on my head and back while I pounded my fist against my dick.
Trying to keep silent when all I wanted was to moan, teeth digging into my bottom lip as I pictured the girl spread out for me.
My breaths were coming short.
Panted and hard.
I gave into imagining the sounds she would make when I finally got to bury myself in her body.
A soft, soft gasp.
I slowed, trying to convince myself that throaty sound was all in my mind.
Just another part of this fantasy.
Until I heard the small thump against the wall.
Shit.
I mashed my eyes closed, like it might hide me.
Conceal the depravity of my actions after I’d just been comforting her hours before.
Heart thrashing, I turned and moved far enough to peek out the small section where the fabric shower curtain hadn’t been drawn fully closed.
It was just a little sliver that left me exposed.
But it was enough. When I peered out, I was looking right at my girl pressed up against the wall.
She stared right back at me.
And I wanted to be horrified, my mind scrambling to conjure every weak apology I could summon. Ready to fucking grovel to keep her from turning and running once again.
Because that’s exactly what I expected her to do.
But her expression…her expression clutched me in the center of the chest and sent what little brain function I had left stampeding south.
Red, lush lips were parted, her hand pressed to her hollow of her throat, pupils dilated so big that her hooded, cerulean eyes appeared black. Needy breaths were coming at me from that sweet mouth like a goddamned freight train.
Desire swelled in the confines of the too-tight room.
Alive.
She pressed deeper into the wall as if it might support her weakened knees. Head rocked back. Thighs squeezing together.
Motherfuck.
My hand shot to the shower wall to steady myself. “Warning you, Edie, you need to get out of here. Right now.”
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 installments, WAIT and STAY, coming in 2016.
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://bit.ly/NewsFromALJackson or text “jackson” to 96000 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.
A TRUE STORY told through the voice of New York Times Bestselling author E.K. Blair.
She’s an author. She’s a mother. She’s a wife. She’s a fraud.
A woman marked and bound by her own deceit, this is the astounding tale of how one choice knocked her world from its axis forcing her to battle through a year of scandal and betrayal, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.
This is an intoxicatingly risqué stand-alone true story tangled in lust, heartbreak, and contrition.
“A scandalous tell-all and cautionary tale penned by E.K. Blair but based on the true-life story of another romance author. Author Anonymous is based entirely on real events that transpired in the life of another New York Times best-selling romance author. Blair was approached by Anonymous to pen the work, as it was perceived as too illicit, and possibly too damning, for Anonymous to write herself.” -New York Daily Post
New York Times, USA Today, and International Bestselling Author
E.K. Blair, takes her readers on an emotional roller coaster with her dynamic and intense writing style. Noted for her ability to create fleshed-out characters that will evoke a realm of reactions, you can be assured that her stories will linger with you far beyond the last word.
A former first grade teacher with an imagination that runs wild. Daydreaming and zoning out is how she was often found in high school. Blair tends to drift towards everything dark and moody. Give her a character and she will take pleasure in breaking them down, digging into their core to find what lies underneath.
Aside from writing, E.K. Blair finds pleasure in music, drinking her Starbucks in peace, and spending time with her friends. She’s a thinker, an artist, a wife, a mom, and everything in between.
From NYT & USA Today bestselling author comes a new Bleeding Stars stand-alone novel…
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.
