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Tour Package: The Island: Vampires of the Merovingi by Sarah M. Cradit

Title: The Island: Vampires of the Merovingi #1
Author: Sarah M. Cradit
Genre: Historical Fantasy Horror
Release Date: March 12, 2018 



From the USA Today bestselling fantasy author of the House of Crimson & Clover novels comes a chilling new historical fantasy series, Vampires of the Merovingi. Ancient lore, a vidid historical backdrop, and elusive, tantalizing mythical creatures await readers as they dive into the secretive, ancient, powerful world of The Saga of Crimson & Clover. 

1789. Saint-Domingue. Hispaniola. West Indies. 

Etienne de Blanchefort has seen incredible success as a colonial planter in the Northern Province of Saint-Domingue. Though uprooting his family from France a decade past was a gamble, life in the tropical West Indies has been good to him, his wife, and four children. With France embroiled in their great revolution across the Atlantic, he harbors little doubt he made the right decision for his family’s future.

Until, that is, the arrival of his fiend.

Etienne’s practical nature cannot reconcile what he knows to be true of his world with what he cannot ignore about the abominable creature haunting his family and the island.

Nor can he ignore his wife’s terrifying dreams that slowly steal her vitality.

Or Victorine’s burgeoning free spirit and wariness of their way of life.

Or Nanette’s curious, furtive behavior as she hides in trees.

Or Marius’ secret new friendship with one he cannot name.

Or Flosine’s unsettling drawings of a man from a time long before theirs.

Etienne’s fiend will not stay elusive for long. He has a request. A very particular, very important request, one that will change the lives of Etienne, his family, and his descendants forever.

Teri – “The Island looks to be the start of a riveting series and I look forward to meeting more of the vampires!”

Elizabeth Connor – “I felt driven to reach the end, to uncover the mystery, to really know these characters and the circumstances that helped to mold them.”

Katy Birch – “Another stunning read by Sarah. I can already tell this series is going to one you can escape to time and time again.”



Sarah is the USA Today bestselling author of the Paranormal Southern Gothic series, The House of Crimson & Clover, born of her combined passion for New Orleans, and the mysterious complexity of human nature. Her work has been described as rich, emotive, and highly dimensional.


An unabashed geek, Sarah enjoys studying obscure subjects like the Plantagenet and Ptolemaic dynasties, and settling debates on provocative Tolkien topics such as why the Great Eagles are not Gandalf’s personal taxi service. Passionate about travel, Sarah has visited over twenty countries collecting sparks of inspiration (though New Orleans is where her heart rests). She’s a self-professed expert at crafting original songs to sing to her very patient pets, and a seasoned professional at finding ways to humiliate herself (bonus points if it happens in public). When at home in Oregon, her husband and best friend, James, is very kind about indulging her love of fast German cars and expensive lattes.



Release Package: Retaliate by Kristin Harte

Title: Retaliate
Series: Vigilante Justice #2
Author: Kristin Harte
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Release Date: March 15, 2018 

The second book in the Vigilante Justice series features a dangerous second chance romance… 

He loved her…and lost her 
Justice is still under attack, but it’s been quiet. At least, until I get a phone call saying a resident needs help. Not just any resident either. The grandmother of the woman who ripped my heart out of my chest over a decade before. One trip up the mountain, and my worst fears—and biggest hopes—are realized. Anabeth’s back and just as captivating as she’d always been. But when she faces off against a Soul Suckers rider, I’ll have to do more than protect her. I’ll have to figure out a way to win her back. Because there’s no way I’ll ever let her go again. 

She’s never gotten over him 
Fourteen years after leaving Justice for what I thought would be the last time, I’m forced back to say goodbye to the only family I’ve ever known. The town’s as small as ever, and being there is just as painful as I remember. The memories of big hurts and bigger mistakes won’t leave me alone…and neither will my ex. I’m still attracted to Bishop Kennard—even more than I was as a lovesick teenager—but he’s a man now. A tough, brutal man who will stop at nothing to protect me. 

Too bad he’s the one who needs protecting…from the things I did that caused me to leave him behind in the first place.
“I want the whole story, Anabeth.” Bishop began to pace, his steps long and loud. Stomping almost. “I deserve that much. You never gave me a fucking reason why you left.”


And I never would because to admit what I’d done would break him. Break us forever. A sob ripped through my chest, racking my body hard. “I can’t. You’ll…” 



“I’ll what?” Bishop lunged and grabbed my arms, holding me up, staring down at me in a way he never would again if he knew. If I told him. With care and compassion and feelings so strong, I could almost believe he’d forgive me. But he wouldn’t. I couldn’t even forgive myself. “Tell me, Anabeth. What is it you think I’ll do if I know?”



“You’ll hate me,” I snapped. “You’ll never see me the same way, and I can’t. I just…”



Bishop stood solid and firm, waiting for me to finish my sentence. Watching as if hoping I would keep talking, but I was done. Out of words. Battlements restored.



Hating myself, knowing he wouldn’t stop pushing me unless I made him, I said the only thing I could think of to end the conversation. “Katie’s waiting on the boxes.”



Bishop reeled as if I’d slapped him with my words. I didn’t back down, staring right back at him as he gaped at me. As his own walls came crashing down, his face going from hurt to pissed in two seconds flat.



“You ruined us, Anabeth,” he said, his voice empty and lifeless. “Whatever happened—whatever you’re keeping from me—it destroyed us both. Don’t you get that? I should know what took you away from me. I should know why my heart’s been broken for fourteen goddamn years.”



But the words wouldn’t come. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t ever tell him, wouldn’t ever bring that pain to his door. A broken heart was nothing in comparison, so I simply shook my head and pressed my lips together as the tears flowed. As I collapsed under the grief and self-hatred that I carried every day. As I watched him shut down.



He grabbed a box of signs and headed for the stairs, leaving me behind. 













Kristin Harte started off as a chemistry major in college but somehow ended up writing romances featuring ex-military heroes and the women who knock them to their knees…literally and figuratively. She likes drinking in the shade, snuggling under a warm blanket on a cold evening, and researching how to blow things up. Her children know nothing of what she writes, and her husband just hopes he’s not at their Chicago-ish home the day the government shows up to confront Kristin about her Google search history. 

When not writing good men doing bad things, Kristin can be found writing paranormal romance as Ellis Leigh or co-writing naughty novellas as London Hale.



Tour Package: Brief Encounters by Scarlett Hopper

Title: Brief Encounters
Series: The Encounters Series #1
Author: Scarlett Hopper
Genre: College Romance
Release Date: March 7, 2018



Eleanor Ivy follows two rules in life: know how to lie and never let anyone in. With the painful life she left behind and the unorthodox job she currently has, lying is a must. But when Eleanor meets Jess Parker, Breslin University’s hockey player both on and off the ice, everything she has worked for threatens to come crumbling down.

Jess Parker is the epitome of everything Eleanor wants to avoid. He’s popular, cocky, and has more girls’ numbers than a phonebook. Yet, when they are paired together for a school project, their connection is undeniable. As their friendship develops, Jess’s ability to truly see Eleanor shakes the very foundation she’s built her new life on. When Eleanor begins to question the two rules she has always followed, she finds herself wondering if honesty might actually be the best policy. But, when all is said and done, will the truth be too much for Jess to handle?


“It is one of the best first books from a new author I have read in forever. I will definitely be adding her to my automatic one-click list of authors!” – Aimee Rogers

“I was quite blown away with this debut book by Scarlett Hopper.” – Andrea

“WOW – Just WOW! This was such an amazing story and I’m pretty blown away with it being a debut novel.” – Kelly


Scarlett Hopper was born in Sydney, Australia and moved to Los Angeles when she was 10 years old. Her passion for writing came about at a young age when her sister would read her the works of Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath. Three years ago, Scarlett re-located back to Sydney where she studies creative writing and communications. When she isn’t writing or reading, she spends her time traveling and searching for the best record stores, while eating at 24 hour diners. After her graduation, Scarlett hopes to move back to the US and begin a new adventure in Seattle.




Book Tour Package: Off Campus Set-Up by Maria Vickers

Title: Off-Campus Setup
Author: Maria Vickers
Genre: M/M College Romance
Release Date: March 7, 2018
Levi Cox left it all behind to go to school in California, but nothing could prepare him for what he discovers when he gets there. Between the university screwing up his living arrangements, the weird meddling old woman who runs the boarding house, and the fellow student who instantly catches his eye, life in Cali is more than he expected, and he isn’t sure he’s ready for any of it. College was supposed to be an adventure, but this might be more than Levi can handle. 


Nathan Orion wants to have fun. That’s what he lives for and it’s exactly what his college years are supposed to be about. He’s happy with living the single life and being carefree…that is until the new student at his grandmother’s boarding house crashes into his life. Now he’s been recruited to show the new guy around, and if Nathan has his way, it won’t be just on-campus.

Will there be more, or is this only an illusion? Two men thrown together, not expecting anything, but possibly finding so much more than an off-campus setup.


“This book was very enjoyable!” – Under Covers Book Blog


“Such a fantastic book!” – Goodreads Review


“If you love M/M stories, you will love this one.” – Cranky – The Book Curmudgeon 









I remembered everything very clearly. The first time we met, our first kiss, the first time we were discovered in the same bed by a nosey grandmother with bright yellow hair, and then the fallout when I realized everything was nothing more than a wishful fantasy that was never supposed to come true. 
And now I as scanned this room to make sure nothing got left behind, I realized how much I’d changed and how far I’d come. My imaginary world exploded, leaving me shell shocked and pissed off. 
This wasn’t the first time I’d fallen prey to feelings, wasn’t the first time I’d been hurt, but it would be the last. 
I took a step out of the room and closed the door behind me. This part of my life was now over, and a new one had just begun. 




Life as I knew it had disappeared. Poof. Gone without a trace. And any other of those sayings people tended to overuse. 
It was my own fault really. I should have expected it, should have seen it coming, but I hadn’t. And now everything had changed. Good or bad. I didn’t know yet. Should I be thanking her or blaming her? Both maybe? 
As I closed the door on the small space I’d called my bedroom for the past few years, I realized for the first time I didn’t know what I was going to do or what would happen tomorrow…and oddly enough, that thrilled me.



a Rafflecopter giveaway


Maria Vickers currently lives in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing and after she became disabled in 2010, she decided to use writing as her escape. She believes that life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.

From a young age, she has always loved books and even dreamed of being an author when she was younger. Growing up in the Navy, she used to weave tales for her siblings and her friends about anything and everything. And when she wasn’t creating her own stories, she had a book in her hand. They transported her to another world. She hopes that with her books, her readers have the same experience and that they can relate to her characters. 

Getting sick changed her life forever, but it also opened doors for her that she thought would always be out of reach.




Tour Package: Wild in the Windy City Anthology

Title: Wild In The Windy City: The Anthology Volume 2
Authors: Ryan Michele, M.C. Decker, Mandi Beck, M. Piper, H.J. Bellus, Chelsea Camaron, Kat T. Masen, JM Witt, Jenna Galicki, Gia Riley, L.B. Dunbar, Lisa Suzanne, and J.D. Hollyfield
Genre: Romance
Release Date: March 6, 2018


-Get wild in the Windy City-
Thirteen bestselling romance authors pack the pages of this anthology full of sex, love, romance, rock and roll and more. Offering a taste of a wide range of themes, this anthology isn’t one you want to miss out on. 
On sale for a limited time only.
JM Witt

M. Piper

Mandi Beck

Lisa Suzanne

Gia Riley

Jenna Galicki

M.C. Decker

Ryan Michele

Chelsea Camaron

J.D. Hollyfield

H.J. Bellus

Kat T. Masen

L.B. Dunbar



Tour Package: Her Debt by Rebel Rose

Title: Her Debt
Series: Lock and Key Series #1
Author: Rebel Rose
Genre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance
Release Date: March 6, 2018 


My entire world changed the second that I saw her in my casino.

She’s a professional gambler. And a cheat. A damn good one… but not good enough. And now she owes a debt to me. A debt that only her body can repay.

I’m restless with lust and need and desire for this thing of beauty not in my possession. My mind and cock are obsessed with her.

When I spank her for the first time, I know that I’m right.

She is the one.

The woman that I’m going to break. The woman that I’m going to train for only my particular tastes. I’m going to shatter her into a million pieces and then rebuild her into everything that I want and need and desire in…

My next submissive.



“Looking for a good BDSM story? Look no further! This takes it on a whole other level than some other books in the genre.” – Read..Review..Repeat


“The story was a deeply erotic and sensual BDSM tale.” – Olga therebelreader


“It’s beautifully erotic, without the least of any displeasure when reading.” – Farah


Her Debt: Lock and Key Series Book 1

Tristan Broussard’s POV
(Unedited and subject to change.)


“She’s back, sir.” There’s no need for Garrett to say her name. I know exactly who the pit boss managing the black jack tables is talking about. And knowing that the brunette beauty is back under the roof of my casino makes my dick harder than steel.
“Is she scoring yet?” I’m not sure why I’m asking. She always wins big money.


“Yes. And already pressing, sir.” Betting large sums of money. She intends on winning big tonight.


And so do I.


She is Emma Lia Grant. Daughter of Conrad Grant, once regarded as one of the biggest cheats on the casino scene. His kid has been visiting my casino. A lot. And she’s up to her old man’s tricks: card counting, roulette past posting, dice slides. You name it and she has done it in my house right under my nose.
And I’ve let her.


My first interaction with Miss Grant happened by coincidence. One of my pit bosses suspected that a new dealer was false shuffling but couldn’t catch him in the act. No one could. Not even my best trained eyes.
I was called down to the floor to see for myself but my eyes weren’t on the dealer or his shuffling. They were on the brunette beauty at his table who happened to be winning huge sums of money.
A fucking knockout. Long chestnut locks with caramel highlights, the ends kissed with loose curls. Forget-me-not blue eyes surrounded by lush, wispy dark lashes. A full rack with cleavage on display and an ass with plenty of meat. The kind of ass that I could dig my fingers into and use as a grip to push and pull her off and on my cock when I fuck her from behind.
That image has played out in my head more than one time, and it always ends the same: her collapsing onto the bed with my cum dripping out of her pussy.


The second that I laid eyes on her, my entire world changed. I became restless, desiring something not in my possession, and I had to have her. Make her mine.
My mind and cock became obsessed with Emma Lia Grant. From that night on, she’s been the only one that I’ve thought about. Fantasized about. Dreamed about.


Miss Grant’s winnings, or debts as I prefer to call them, are close to hitting the magic number. Only sixteen thousand dollars prevents me from carrying out my plan. Tonight’s the night, and that has my dick twitching.


I’ve been camping out in the private penthouse in my hotel for a week waiting for this moment. On call for the moment Emma Lia’s debt hits the hundred-thousand-dollar mark.
Ching… ching… ching. It’s like my own personal sexual jackpot clinking in my ears.

Rebel Rose is a decadently dark romance author living in the beautiful city of New Orleans. She prefers anti-heroes over Prince Charmings and often uses her own sexual experiences in her novels. She can typically be found somewhere in the French Quarter enjoying a cup of coffee while people watching.

Keep up to date with Rebel Rose at:


Chapter Reveal – Careless by Michelle Horst


Available via Kindle Unlimited




Irony – when life f@cks you over.


She’s the one girl I can’t forget.
She’s as innocent as a saint, with the mouth of a sinner.
After taking her virginity, it’s taken me four years to get rid of the guilt.
I used her while she was at her lowest and she’s never forgiven me.
Watching my best friend die a little every day, and not being able to do anything about it, kills me.
I should’ve seen it coming. The second I hit rock bottom, she walks back into my life.
The f@cking irony?
She might be the only one who can save Marcus.
The life of the person who means the most to me lies in the palm of the girl I screwed.


Hate is a strong word, but it’s one I’ve really considered when it comes to Jaxson West. But I’ve settled for intensely disliking him. It’s similar to the way I feel about visiting the dentist.
Asking me to forgive Jaxson, is like asking me to willingly sit through a root canal.
He’s heartbreakingly gorgeous, emphasis on heartbreakingly.
He’s an amazing friend, just not to me.
He’s supportive, understanding, caring and loving, just not to me.
No, for me he reserves his dark scowls and low growls.
I’ll do everything I can to save Marcus, but I’m not doing it for Jaxson.

Jaxson West & Leigh Baxter ~ Book 3 in the Enemies To Lovers Series

This is a Stand Alone book in the Enemies To Lovers Series. Each book in the series is about a different couple. To get the full experience of their friendship I’d recommend that you start with Heartless.




Five years ago…
The bottle slips from my fingers, clinking as it lands on top of the small pile of empty beer bottles already gathering underneath the hammock I’m relaxing on.
“It’s your turn to get beers.”
Drowsily, Marcus closes his eyes. “I’ll go get some in a minute.”
I melt into my own hammock and sigh sleepily.
“This was the best idea you’ve ever had. I’m going to park my ass right here the entire weekend.”
During the week, Marcus came home with five hammocks. So far we’ve only put up two of them, which was an accomplishment in itself, if you ask me. The three leftover hammocks are still lying in the living room.
“Do you think you’ll be able to fuck while keeping your balance on this thing?” I ask, without opening my eyes.
Damn, this is the life. Me and Marcus, all the beer we want, and the sun all fucking day long.
“Don’t know. You can try it out sometime and let me know. It takes ten minutes just to get my ass settled in this thing,” Marcus murmurs.
Yeah, it’s only a matter of minutes before he’ll be fast asleep. Come to think of it, an afternoon nap isn’t such a bad idea. It will give me more energy for the party we’re having tonight.
I glance over at my best friend and grin. He’s lying with both legs hanging off on either side of the hammock.
“Dude, you look uncomfortable, lying like that,” I laugh.
He doesn’t answer at once, and I’m starting to think he’s asleep when he mumbles, “Free-Fucking-Balling. There’s a nice breeze on my balls.”
“Cool,” I grin, as I move slowly so I don’t tip the damn hammock. When I have my legs hanging off the sides, my grin grows. “Fuck, you’re right.”
Marcus laughs lazily. “The wind’s blowing us, dude.”
Everything is about sex when it comes to my best friend. Not like I’m one to talk. It’s as if our minds have a direct link to the gutter.
We’ve been friends since diapers. Our moms were best friends as well. At least, they were until Mr. Reed killed Mrs. Reed. That was one fucked-up day. Marcus was only ten and his sister, Summer, had just turned six the previous month. To this day, no one knows the reason Marcus’ dad lost his shit and shot his wife, daughter, and son, before turning the gun on himself.
Fortunately, the bullet missed Marcus’ heart by a ball hair. Summer and Mrs. Reed died instantly. It happened during our summer vacation so luckily, I could stay with him every day until he got released into Mom’s custody. He had no other family and besides, she was his godmother.
Logan might be my twin, but after the shooting, Marcus and I became inseparable. We might have been close before he lost his family, but during his stay in the hospital, it was as if I became everything in his life.
Those first few weeks he wouldn’t talk to anyone but me. Mom made him see a psychologist, but that didn’t help much either. He became detached from everyone and everything. I was the only one allowed to see behind the walls. I was the only one he didn’t pretend with. I comforted his broken heart suffering from the loss of his mom and sister. I held him as he cried because he didn’t understand what had happened. I took the blows when he was overcome with anger at his father. I took it all – the good, the bad, the broken – without fail. I took it all, so he didn’t have to carry the full weight of his fucked-up past alone.
After the shooting, Mom changed as well. The horror that took place in the Reed’s home rocked the whole community, but after a while, things slowly returned to normal, and people stopped talking about it. Where Marcus turned into himself, Mom seemed to be all over the place, as if she lost her balance in life. The friendship between her and Mrs. Reed reminded me a lot of what Marcus and I had. After Mrs. Reed died, Mom unraveled right before our eyes. She’d gone from mother-of-the-year to fucked-up mess at breakneck speed.
At first, it was little things. She’d spent entire nights sitting outside while finishing a bottle of wine or three. She grew impatient with us, her once loving demeanor being replaced by a snapping tone and cold glare.
It got worse after our thirteenth birthday. I was the first one to go through a growth spurt. Knowing I couldn’t go to Mom about the hair making its appearance on my face, I went to Mr. Hayes. He was the only father any of us had. Even though he worked his ass off, he always had time for us. Honestly, we spent more time at Carter’s house, than anywhere else.
Mr. Hayes was amazing. I mean, fucking amazing. He was never too busy for us. He’d go out of his way to show every single one of us how much he cared. He never missed any of our firsts. The first day of school, first games, first driving lessons—he was there for everything. He was the only solid in our constantly changing lives.
The memory of how he taught us to shave will always be one of my favorites.
It was early one morning after Mom had left for a well-deserved day at the spa after a night of heavy drinking. I was relieved to find that Mr. Hayes hadn’t left for the office yet. After I asked him if he could show me how to shave, he took off his tailored suit jacket and proceeded to roll up the sleeves of his expensive shirt. When he had the five of us standing in front of the mirror, he placed razors and shaving gel in front of us. He made sure to remove all the blades from the razors so we could practice first.
He started with Carter, spending time with each of us, making sure we knew what to do. I was last in line, for which I was grateful because it gave me time to watch as he showed the others. I still remember Mia sitting on the side of the tub, pulling her face as she watched us.
Rhett and Mia were the first to move in with Carter and Mr. Hayes after their parents died. That was a blow to us all. Rhett and Mia had the best parents, and their sudden death caused Marcus to have a setback as well. It was a reminder of what he had lost, opening up his scabbed over wounds.
Mom wasn’t close to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. She didn’t have any sympathy for Rhett, who she always referred to as that friend.
I don’t like that friend of yours.
You’re spending too much time with that friend.
I don’t want that friend here. You’re all working on my last nerve.
That only led to Logan, Rhett, and Carter spending all their time at Carter’s place, and avoiding our house at all costs.
I was doing my best to help Marcus deal with the nightmares that had started again. He wasn’t confused and angry like he was at the age of ten. Hell no, he was bottling it all up, and I was scared what he’d do the day he exploded.
That’s when the verbal abuse started. I wasn’t sure why she targeted me. Maybe it was because I was the first one to show signs of becoming a man. I’m just thankful she hadn’t set her sights on Logan or Marcus. I never fought back out of fear that she would lay into them instead.
She walked in on me while I was shaving and the usual blank stare she gave me quickly turned to one of rage.
“You look just like him,” she whispered, her voice sounding as tight as a piece of string that was about to snap.
Logan and I weren’t identical twins. We had the same dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, but that was it. I was taller than him, and my features were harsher. Logan was the pretty one with the killer smile where I was abrasive and argumentative. Logan was the friendly, light-hearted brother, and I—I was the careless, cynical one.
That’s another reason why Marcus and I were such a great fit. Marcus was ruthless and at times downright derisive towards others. He was the oil to my fire.
“You’re the spitting image of your father.”
I’d gotten used to the cold and vacant look in her eyes, but I’ll never forget how her mouth pulled down that day. She looked at me with disgust.
“You think I don’t see it, but I do. You and Marcus are narcissists, just like your fathers. You’re poison. Your father killed me, and Robert killed Stella. It’s sickening to know there will be a day you will both do the same to some poor girl.”
The words didn’t hurt half as much as the gleam in her eyes. I’ve been on the receiving end of disappointed and angry looks, plenty of times in my life, but never the ‘I-wish-you-were-never-born’ glare. It felt like I stopped being her son that day.
After that, she took a swing at me every chance she got.
You’re pathetic.
You’re just as spineless as that good-for-nothing father of yours.
I should’ve gotten rid of you when he left. Now I’m stuck looking at your face every day as a reminder that he left. One day you will leave too.
It’s weird how things played out after that.
I should’ve seen it coming, but hell, I had just discovered the magical effect a pair of tits had on my dick.
Mr. Hayes wanted to take us all to New York for the summer break. He was taking over a business there. I’ll be the first to say I was worried about it. If he decided to move, it would pretty much leave me, Marcus, and Logan screwed. It would tear the group in half.
He invited Mom over for dinner so he could discuss the trip with her. After dinner, they walked to the study so they could talk privately, while we went outside to swim. It was hot out already, and it was only the start of summer.
After spending some time in the pool, I needed to use the restroom. Mr. Hayes wouldn’t be too happy with me if he caught me watering the garden, so I dried off and ran inside the house.
I should’ve stayed outside. You never hear anything good when you eavesdrop. As I walked past the study, Mom started yelling.
“How can you sit there, looking so calm as if it didn’t happen? Your wife and my husband ran away together, leaving us with the kids. I’ve spent the best years of my life raising those boys. I’m almost forty, and I have nothing to show for my life! I’m done sitting at home, watching as my life passes me by.”
I felt a weird mixture of shame and anger brewing in my chest. I was embarrassed that my mother was talking to Mr. Hayes like that, and I was pissed off that she was so selfish. Then the part of my father running off with Carter’s mother sunk in, making me feel sick.
I heard a chair scraping over the wooden floor, but no footsteps came towards the door, so I kept listening.
“Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth, Judy? You have two amazing sons. What about them?”
“I don’t care. Your wife ran off with my husband. If you had kept an eye on her, it wouldn’t have happened. I have my trust fund. You can keep your monthly allowance. I don’t need it. I’m done wasting away in this pathetic town.”
“You’re really going to abandon your sons? What about the promise you made to Stella that you’d always take care of Marcus?”
“She’s been dead for six years. I was a different person when I agreed to be his godmother. They’re sixteen, Christopher. You can either take them or they can take care of themselves. I’m done playing mother to those boys.”
I heard Mom’s high heels on the hardwood floor and ran for the restroom. Just as I slipped inside, the door to the study opened.
“I won’t stop you, Judy, but make it a clean cut. Walk away right now. I’ll keep the boys here tonight and take them home tomorrow to pack their stuff. I want you out of that house by the time I get there with them. I won’t make this harder for them than it already will be.”
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.” She didn’t storm off like I expected she would, but instead whispered, “You’re a good man, Christopher. They’ll be happy with you.”
I leaned my head back against the wall as I listened to her footsteps die away.
She left without saying goodbye.
The next day Mr. Hayes took us home to pack our stuff, after having told us that Mom was okay with us spending the summer with him.
I never told anyone about the things she said to me, not even Marcus. I wasn’t sad that she had chosen to leave us. Actually, it made it easier for me to hate her. It made it easier to pretend around Logan.
A few weeks later, Mr. Hayes sat us down and explained that our mother wouldn’t be coming home soon. She was taking some time to travel. He really did his best to break the news to us gently. Marcus and I got up and went to shoot some pool. To me, it was just another day.
Logan, on the other hand, took it hard. He looked like a zombie as he walked out of the office. Mia smiled when she saw him, took one look at his face and hugged him. I left Logan with Mia so she could comfort him.
It was during our senior year that I struggled to control my anger. I joined a gym so I could punch the shit out of a punching bag and lift weights until I was too tired to care.
That’s when Marcus started the Screw Crew list. He made it his mission to add as many names as he could to it.
So for the last few years, Marcus has been doing his best to fuck his demons away, while I’ve been trying to exercise mine away.


“Seriously! You do know what it means to take a break, right?” Willow watches me with her hands on her hips, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
We could’ve been sisters, instead of best friends. We both have blonde hair and brown eyes. Willow is a head shorter than me and has a heart-shaped face which you can’t help but stop to admire. I’ve been told I’m pretty but being skinny and tall with an oval-shaped face, I’m not drop-dead gorgeous. Looks never bothered me, though, because I’ve always been a bookworm.
“I am taking a break,” I mumble while keeping my eyes on my laptop’s screen.
Saying I’m a bookworm might be scaling it down a bit. I’m addicted to the written word, although my passion lies with cardiac surgery. I inherited the obsession from my parents. Being the only child of two of the most admired cardiothoracic surgeons in the states, it was a given that I’d follow in their footsteps.
Willow plops down next to me and leans closer so she can see what I’m busy reading.
“You call this taking a break?” she asks, giving me a look that clearly says our definition of the term break is vastly different.
Willow’s the only person who’s been a constant in my life. I have an amazing relationship with my parents, but with their busy careers and my studying, we don’t get to spend a lot of time together. Willow keeps me grounded.
When I graduated school at thirteen, Willow was determined to stay friends with me even though I’m a year younger than her. During my first year at Boston, we kept contact by facetiming at least three times a week. What I love most about Willow is that she never treats me any different just because I have a high IQ. I still think if it weren’t for the fact that Willow and I were neighbors before I started at Boston, I never would’ve made a friend. Being privately tutored at home didn’t exactly give me many opportunities to interact with other kids, and there wasn’t any time to make friends once I started school. I did my best to try to break the record of becoming the youngest doctor in the US, but I missed it by two years. Now my heart is set on becoming the youngest cardiothoracic surgeon.
Dad and Mom forced me to take a six-month break before starting my six-year integrated cardiothoracic surgery residency program at USC. I’m only halfway through my forced vacation, and I’m already feeling antsy. The thought alone of starting my residency makes my heart race with excitement.
“I’m reading an article on postoperative physiotherapy. It’s interesting. It’s like when you read those fashion magazines you love so much.”
She slowly shakes her head, giving me a look that closely resembles pity.
“Only you would think boring medical articles can compete with the latest fashion trends. You, my friend, are in desperate need of fun.”
“But –” I glance from my laptop screen to her, then back to the really interesting article about a survey they did in Sweden rating the effectiveness of physiotherapy after cardiac surgery. “This is fun.”
She shakes her head again, and her facial expression clearly says my relaxation time is up.
“I’m afraid all the studying might have done permanent damage to the fun section of your brain.” She shakes her head, really getting into her role as the doctor. “You, Miss Baxter, are in dire need of a party. I prescribe a full forty-eight hours of drinking and dancing.”
I scrunch my nose, certainly not in the mood to go to parties the entire weekend. Before I can argue she holds up her pointer finger.
“No arguing. It’s of utmost importance that we immediately start with treatment, before the fun section of that genius brain of yours, shrivels and dies.”
I can’t help but grin at her. “You should’ve gone into medicine with me. You’d make a great doctor.”
She pulls a face, shaking her head.
“Hell no, I’d kill all my patients. Fashion is my passion. While we’re on the topic of fashion…”
Willow grabs the laptop and closes it before pulling me up along with her.
“Go shower and put on the dress I made you. Don’t you dare put up your hair in that god-awful bun. It makes you look like a nun who escaped from a convent.” She pulls a face as my eyes dart to the messy bun on top of her head. “I’ll curl it for tonight. You’re nineteen, not ninety.”
“You’re really going to make me go, aren’t you?”
She grins, a wicked gleam in her eyes which promises no sleep in my near future.
“I only have you for another three months before you start your residency. I get a feeling I won’t see you for the next six years. Hell, I’m taking full advantage of my time with you.”
Willow is right. I’ll be working my butt off over the next six years. I want to make a difference in this world, especially when it comes to heart transplants.
I go through the motions of showering and washing my hair. While I leave the conditioner in for a few minutes, I quickly shave. I can’t wear the gorgeous dress Willow made when my legs are so hairy. After rinsing the conditioner out, I grab a towel and pat my body dry before wrapping my hair in it. When I rub lotion all over my body, I inhale deeply. I’m addicted to the sweet, rich fragrance of jasmine.
Walking back into the bedroom I share with Willow, I’m not surprised to find her waiting.
“Let’s do your hair. I’ll shower while you’re putting on your makeup.”
There’s no use in arguing with her, so I take a seat at the vanity. Willow gets busy blow-drying layer by layer of my hair. As I sit and watch her hands move, I think about how lucky I am to have her as a friend.
She shares the apartment with two other girls. I’ve spent some time with Evie, whom I get along with. I can definitely see myself staying friends with Evie once I leave. I haven’t seen much of Della, but she seems nice.
When Willow is busy massaging styling wax into my hair so it won’t go frizzy, I ask, “You mentioned a party? Will Evie be going as well?”
Willow wipes her hands on the towel I had around my hair while admiring her handy work.
“Yeah, she’s already at Carter’s place. We’ll meet her there.”
“Carter? He’s friends with Rhett, right?” I’m still trying to remember names, never mind who fits in where in their social circle.
“Yep, you’ll meet all of Rhett’s friends tonight. Carter is an asshole, so just make sure you stay out of his way.”
My eyebrows almost dart into my hairline. The fact that Willow thinks the guy is an asshole says a lot. She’s the kindest person I know.
“Okay,” I agree, although I’m curious why she doesn’t like him.
“Come to think of it, just stick to my side tonight. I don’t want any of the Screw Crew getting their hands on you.”
“Why are we going then? If you don’t like any of them, we can do something else.”
Like, stay at home.
I can think of a couple of things I’d rather do than go to a party.
“We’re going because it will be fun. Besides, it’s not that I don’t like them. They’re just too wild and tactless for you. They’re fun to hang out with, but you seriously don’t want to end up in bed with one of them. Believe me when I say they will try. They have this thing going to see who can screw the most girls.”
Worry lines instantly cover my forehead.
“I really don’t think I should go. You know I have zero experience with guys. I wouldn’t know who’s being nice and who’s playing me even if my life depended on it.”
“You’ll be okay. We’ll stick together, and they won’t try anything with you as long as I’m by your side.”
Curious to find out more, I ask, “Have any of them tried to get you into bed?”
Willow scrunches her nose. “Only Marcus has tried. Ugh, he’s the worst of the group.”
I don’t miss the blush creeping up her neck as she quickly leaves to go shower. There’s definitely a story there.

We’ve been here twenty minutes, and I’m ready to go.
I can’t dance so I avoid the makeshift dance floor at all costs. The living room is packed with students, some drinking while others are already drunk, and most are in various stages of making out.
Suppressing a yawn, I decide to go outside for some fresh air. I avoid going near the pool which is surrounded by party-goers. The last thing I want is to be thrown in the pool. It would ruin the beautiful dress Willow made me. I smile as I look down at the pale green, silky fabric. She made me a shift dress which might be a little too short for my taste, but it fits perfectly otherwise.
I spot a table with drinks and make my way over to it. I’m surprised the table isn’t crowded with students. When we got here, we couldn’t even get into the kitchen where the drinks were.
When I notice only sodas on the table, I understand why it’s practically deserted. I pour coke in a red solo cup and watch as the tiny bubbles fizz to the top.
“You want ice?” a deep, gravelly voice says from behind me, which startles the hell out of me. I drop the cup, and it falls to the ground, causing soda to splash all over my legs and sandals.
“Damn it,” I groan as I step away from the mess at my feet. I bend to pick up the now empty cup, seeing as the contents are all over me when I hear the voice behind me again.
“And here I thought it would take some foreplay to get you wet.” From the laughter in his voice, it’s clear he thinks my accident is hilarious.
“You must be one of the assholes, thinking it’s funny that I messed all over myself,” I snap as I place the cup on the table and turn around, getting my first look at the guy.
I freeze like a deer in oncoming traffic as I take in the perfect specimen of everything that’s male, standing in front of me. Even though his smug smile makes my anger grow, I can’t help but drink in the sight of his dreamily carved, scruffy face. Don’t even get me started on his hair which is a few shades darker than mine, disheveled and sexy.
Ugh. Double shit.
“You must be one of those bitches, unable to take a joke,” he says as the smile around his full mouth curves into a wicked grin which only makes him hotter.
Damn it. Why does he have to be so incredibly attractive? It messes with my ability to think, which has never happened to me before.
“I can take a joke,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I watch as he pours soda into a cup. He holds it out to me, one eyebrow raised. Not even thinking, I take it from him and as our fingers touch briefly, a shiver races over my body.
To make matters worse, as I’m about to take a much-needed sip, he takes hold of the hem of his shirt and yanks it off his body in one smooth motion.
My mouth drops open as my eyes dart over his chest, wildly trying to drink in every inch of tanned skin and muscle. Damn, he might have a shitty attitude, but his body sure makes up for it.
He grabs a bottle of water which he pours out over my legs and feet. My brain is screaming at me to slap the smirk right off his gorgeous face, but my traitorous body won’t move a muscle.
“Sit,” he says. His voice a mixture of playful and raspy, making flutters erupt in my stomach.
Placing his hand on my shoulder, he pushes me lightly back, and my body, ever the traitor, goes where it’s being guided. The back of my knees hit the edge of a chair, and I sit down.
I want to say something clever that will put him in his place, but my mind has clearly taken a hiatus, leaving my hormones in control of this situation.
He reaches for my left leg, and slipping the sandal from my foot, he starts to dry my leg with his shirt.
I can’t stop myself from staring at his well-toned back and broad shoulders, fascinated by each muscle rippling when he moves. When he’s done with my left leg, he repeats his actions with my right leg. Only, this time his left hand slips up until it reaches the back of my knee while he keeps drying my already dry leg.
I clear my throat to get his attention. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get my voice back with all the tingles zapping upwards to my lady parts, from where he’s touching me.
“There you go, all dry,” he says as he stands up. He looks down at me as he throws the shirt over his shoulder. “Run along now, your mother must be worried.”
“Huh?” I grunt as if my IQ dropped to a miserable zero.
“Pretty little things like you shouldn’t hang out at parties. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Finally, a flicker of my intelligence returns along with my temper. I push myself up from the chair, not that it helps as I barely reach his shoulder.
He flashes me a confident grin, his eyes dropping to my feet before slowly making their way up my body. I don’t miss how they rest on my hips and breasts for a few seconds too long before they settle on my face.
I’ve never been so blatantly checked out in my life before, and it makes a dreaded blush creep over my cheeks.
“That’s right, my eyes are up here,” I say so he’ll know that I know he was ogling me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m nineteen. I’ve practically been living on my own since I was thirteen. Also, I do not appreciate you calling me a pretty little thing. Women aren’t things.”
Feeling proud of my ability to string a few sentences together, I smile triumphantly.
“Jax, stop harassing my friend,” Evie suddenly says behind me, which makes me swing around from surprise. I recognize Rhett, but I haven’t met the other guy with them.
“Your friend?” Mr. Too-hot-to-have-a-personality asks. Thanks to Evie, I now know his name is Jax.
I feel him move behind me and I hate that my body is aware of him. His arm presses against my shoulder and my sandals appear in my line of vision.
I do my best to ignore the fact that I almost forgot them, and snatch them from his hand. I drop them to the floor and quickly slip them onto my feet.
“Yeah, my friend, which means she’s off limits.” Evie hooks her arm through mine and pulls me closer to where Rhett’s standing. “You’ve met Rhett, and this is Carter Hayes. They live here.”
Smiling, I reach out a hand to Carter. “Leigh Baxter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
We shake hands as Willow joins us, followed by another guy who looks like he’s about to kill someone.
“Sorry, I leave you alone for ten minutes and the wolves descend.”
“Wolves?” Rhett asks with a playful smile on his face.
“Yeah, wolves. Leigh’s parents would kill me if any of you corrupted their daughter.”
“You’re carrying on as if the pretty little thing is fucking royalty?” Jax says from behind me, sounding a little offended. I also don’t miss how he accentuated ‘pretty little thing’ as if he’s already caught onto the fact that I hate it whenever he says it.
“You could say that,” Evie says. She looks to Carter. “Dr. Baxter, your dad’s heart specialist, is her father.”
Instantly, a cloud moves over Carter’s face as if Evie just spat at him instead of introducing me.
“In that case, she’s off limits,” Carter bites out. He grabs my hand and starts to pull me away from the growing crowd gathering around us. “I’ll take her back to the apartment. Willow, are you coming?” It doesn’t sound like a question but more like an order.
More common sense seems to return to my frazzled mind, and I yank my hand free from his grip.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I seethe as my anger quickly burns through my body now that my focus is no longer on Jax.
“You shouldn’t be here, Leigh. Your father will kill me. I’ve heard him talk about his little girl. I’m not pissing off the man who might have his hands inside my dad’s chest one of these days.”
I throw my hands in the air, actually dumbfounded by how quickly the night went downhill.
“You know what,” I say as I start to walk towards the side of the house, “I don’t want to be here. Why the hell I’m torturing myself like this is beyond me.”
I keep walking, not looking back to see if Willow is coming. I’d rather sit outside the apartment for the entire night than spend another second here.






Michelle Horst is a Bestselling Romance Author who likes her books hot, dirty, and with a touch of darkness. She loves an alpha hero who is not scared to fight for his woman.

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Release Package: Enticed By You by Meghana Sarathy

Title: Enticed By You
Series: Miraculous Love Book 1
Author: Meghana Sarathy
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 13, 2018

I’m Sara Waters. I had a perfect life – an almost perfect boyfriend- a career plan laid out. BUT….
One surprising encounter with my BOSS-Nathan Bankers and I see an all new face of his
One conversation with Nathan – my heart takes the fall and I come unhinged.
I fall for the WRONG guy, letting go of my right boyfriend.
I fall for the GUY twenty years elder to me – His age a mere number, his attraction for me, my vice.
I fall for the Married man, father of two – Tucking away my own virtue
Nothing is black and white, right or wrong in love.
Our love might me dirty for the world, but it is pure in the bubble that we have created and live in.
I love Nathan Bankers with all my heart and I make the best of my limited time with him.
I also know that nothing can come out of it – EVER
No expectations and no hopes of a HEA for me
An undying love for a man who was never meant to be MINE
And yet I have him ENTICED

Enticed by you is the first book in the duet. This book contains graphical sex and certain ‘triggers’ that are suitable for readers above the age of 18.





My hands tremble as I slide my thumb across the screen to receive the call. My heart is thumping so hard, he can probably hear it through the phone. This kind of high and excitement is new for me. Never even in bed with Bryce have I felt this raw need and anxiety. I’m a mess and the person responsible for it is on the other end of the line. 

“Hey.” My voice is a breathy whisper. 

“Sara.” His voice has the earlier huskiness to it but it’s breathy at the same time. The underlying sexy timbre resonates with my vocal chords. 

“Nathan,” I reply. There are so many thoughts running in my mind. It’s a complete chaos and that’s also why I’m drawing a blank. I’ve no idea how to take it further.

“I don’t have much time. But I couldn’t stop myself from calling you.”

“To be honest, I was waiting for your call.” At least I have found my words. 

He chuckles. The sound is so hearty and blissful, it snakes around my heart. I want to hear him laugh. If a mere chuckle of his can please me so much, his laughter will do wonders.

“When have you not been honest? You’ve always been blatantly frank. In fact, your harsh comments have evoked smart responses from me, but I never said them out loud. You see, I don’t want the others to realize just how much you affect me.”

I swallow hard, trying to grasp his every single word. He is overloading me with too much of raw and thought evoking remarks. What am I even supposed to say? Sorry? Thank you? Or ask him why and how I actually affect him?

“My first and foremost important task is to keep my cool,” He adds as an afterthought. 

Keep his cool? Well, I can’t let this chance pass without taking a jab at him.

“Sorry, but if you’re already used to my honest comments, let me start by correcting you. You don’t always maintain your cool. I can give you credits for trying, but you fail most of the times and that’s exactly why I used to engage in such petty arguments with you.”

“Really, now?” he asks with a hint of laughter. “Why exactly did you stop those petty arguments?” His voice is deeper now like he’s actually trying to restrain himself. From what? Speaking something inappropriate? Highly possible but that’s exactly what I want to hear now.

“I realized you were way too thick headed to be worthy of my efforts.”

Now I’m the one pushing him. Will he play along with my whims and fancies? I’ll find out soon.

He cracks up again and this time his voice penetrates all the way to my marrows and sinks deep. The excitement and innocence of his laughter brings a wide smile on my face. This laughter isn’t that of a man’s. There is no constraint, no shackles restraining it and neither is the sound weighed down by the experiences of life. This laughter is of a kid who is perhaps laughing at a silly joke cracked by his friend. So carefree and light-hearted. I can get attuned to this sound. 

“Sorry to be such a failure in your eyes, baby. Next time, I shall try harder.”

There is that word again. Baby. Why is he using it? And is there an innuendo even to this?

“What do you want, Nathan?” I ask in a hushed tone.

I need to know. I have to understand his motives. I can’t remain confused like this.

“What can I possibly offer you, baby? Just say it.”

“Answers,” I reply boldly.

“Shoot the questions.”

“Is it because of my book? Is that what got you so interested in me?”

There is a small pause. “Interested?” He scoffs. “An inappropriate word. An understatement actually. Intrigued seems more apt.”

“Really now? And what do you expect? You’ll spin out such lines and I’ll be smitten by you?”

Is that what he’s going for? Does he wish to gain my attention? He wants me to show interest in him? This is the best way of learning answers from him.

“Is that how you want to take things? You want it to be mutual attraction?”

“Attraction?” I question. “You’re attracted to me? I was going for a much simpler and safer words like interested. I’m truly honored now.”

I hear his labored breaths. Is he trying to withhold from speaking his mind? I don’t want him to hold himself back. I want to learn the thoughts swirling in his head. The raw, naked, honest thoughts. If he opens up, so will I. Nothing will hold be back this time. No second thoughts. No hesitation.

“Keep using that snarky mouth of yours and I will kiss the fuck out of you.”

My throat clogs up. Not even a single word comes out. It’s like time has actually come to a halt. My heart skips a beat as I try again and again to grasp his words.

But forget my mind- it’s still blank. It’s my body that’s thrumming with excitement. If the pulsating organ between my legs is any indication, then his words had an impact alright and they definitely hit their target. 

“Have nothing to say?” He bickers. “That means you clearly don’t mind being kissed by me. Baby, all you have to do is ask and I’d happily oblige.”

Really? Well, I won’t be the one giving in so easily. I can play along. But is this even a game? I’ll push that thought to the back of my head for now.

“I actually believed using my snarky mouth would be enough to unleash the beast within you. If I have to request, then I might as well as go for the craigslist. Even paid services are better than requesting.”

“Baby, the beast is already unleashed. You just have to see it to believe it.” 

This time my throat actually goes dry. The only comeback I can think of lies frozen on the tip of my tongue. I can’t possibly ask him to show. That’s just outrageously wrong when I clearly know what he’s going for.

“Did I cross my limits now? I tend to be doing that a lot around you.” He sighs and lets out a short laugh.

“Do you even have any limits?” I cross-question him.

“In this regard maybe no, but I can accommodate a few for you.”

What the hell is happening? No matter what I throw his way, he’s just not backing down.


Meghana Sarathy is from Bangalore, India. She is an avid reader and also a writer. She mainly reads and writes Adult and New Adult romance, as well as dark and psychological thrillers. She has a special affinity towards love triangles and angst filled stories. Her all time favorite characters are her very own characters- Jennifer, Brandon and Linden. She tends to fall hard for boys who are either cocky, good flirts and total charmers.

She spends most of her free time reading, writing or watching anime. Depending on her mood, she tends to write two to three books at a time. She is a crazy fan of Dragonball Z and can be seen watching the episodes in repeat. Vegeta is her all time favorite anime character.


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Cover Package: Thrilling Ethan by Anna Paige

Title: Thrilling Ethan
Series: A Thrill of the Chase Novel
Author: Anna Paige
Genre: Contemporary (Rocker) Romance
Release Date: April 6, 2018
Cover Design: JM Walker with Just Write Creations


Leading a double life isn’t easy. 
Leading a double life when you’re famous is nearly impossible. 
Luckily, I’m always up for a challenge. 
For years, I’d balanced both worlds. 
More than that, I was killing it. 
A successful music career,
Drummer for the most popular rock band in the world,
And I’d amassed a huge following as a painter—
Even if no one knew it was me.
I had it all.
Or I thought I did. 
Then I went toe-to-toe with my alter-ego’s biggest fan,
Who tried to throw me out of my own art show.
And made me realize exactly what I’d been missing.
The thrill of sharing my secret bonded us,
But that wasn’t why she consumed me.
I never bought into the idea of love as the ultimate muse.
Emily Westin was about to make me a believer.


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I could tell the second I laid eyes on her that she was going to give me shit. The way she looked me over with thinly veiled disgust and squared her delicate shoulders. How she marched my way with purpose and efficiency across the floor of the art gallery. It was enough to make my dick stir despite having just come in from the frigid New York weather—not an easy feat when the temps had plummeted and my manhood had climbed nearly to my throat to avoid the cold. She narrowed her eyes at me, and my cock twitched again. 
Nice to see you’re out of hiding there, sport, but you’re barking up the wrong tree with this one. 


She looked entirely too hostile for the filthy things my poor, misguided penis had me thinking.

“Excuse me, but the gallery is closed for a private event.” She was gorgeous in her simple black gown and blazing red heels. She wore a thin gold chain at her neck with a small diamond pendant and matching earrings. Her shiny blonde hair was pulled up in a severe twist, her makeup understated and alluring. Her stunning green eyes were the only sparkle she needed, and they were serving her well. 
I liked her understated style. 


She had a hint of a southern drawl, and I liked that, too. 


“I’m aware,” I told her, nodding over her shoulder. “I was told I could stop by before the event to have a look around.”


She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and once again looked over my worn jeans, dark shades, and hoodie—the last of which was pulled up to cover my head and part of my face. “I wasn’t aware that the Unabomber was on the guest list.” Her nose wrinkled in the most adorable way, and I nearly laughed. 
Seriously, I was popping the biggest ‘hot for teacher’ boner just watching her disapproving frown. She reminded me of the TA I’d had a crush on back in high school—only ten times sexier. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the poker player who used hoodies to obscure his face rather than the actual terrorist.” She had such an expressive face; no way would she ever be able to play poker. 
“I’m undecided,” she offered in a clipped tone as she glanced around, presumably looking for backup. “And you need to leave. Guests will be arriving soon; ones who are fully aware and respectful of the dress code for events such as this.” Her eyes narrowed, and she surprised me by stepping closer, entering my space. “I’ll not have you disturbing anyone or disrespecting the work being showcased here tonight. Now, I’ll ask you one last time to please leave.”


“Emily? Is there a problem here?” An older gentleman approached from the back room, his brow furrowed as he took in my attire and returned his attention to her. 
So, her name is Emily. Hmm, I like it. Suits her.
She quirked her mouth and watched me as he approached, answering without looking away. “This…” Her lip curled in distaste, and I had the insane urge to bite it. “Party crasher won’t leave. He says he was told to ‘stop by’ before the show tonight to look around.” God love her, she even used air quotes, and her southern accent was ramping up as she got progressively more irritated. 


When the older man didn’t respond, she looked from me to him. “Arthur, did you hear me?”


I’d kept my eyes predominantly on her, but realizing his silence, I flicked my gaze to him and found him staring wide-eyed in my direction. “Are you…?”
I nodded quickly and returned my attention to the trim, golden-haired spitfire who was still in my personal space. So close, in fact, that I could smell her perfume, which was amazing: crisp and light, with a fruity note that made me want to lick her. 
She glanced up at me and stepped back as if she was just realizing how close we were standing. Satisfied that she was at a safe distance, she looked back to the older man expectantly. “Well? Anyone want to clue me in? Preferably while we’re all still reasonably young. I have to get things ready in case the artist shows.”
“I thought the artist was a recluse, secretive to the point that no one had actually met the man,” I interjected, suppressing a smile. 
She gave me an annoyed look. “It’s rumored that he sometimes attends his showings as a guest, just to see how his work is being received. On the off chance that the rumor is true, I want everything perfect in advance of his arrival.” The way she spoke made it clear she was a fan of the artist, so much so that her fluid green eyes actually danced despite her annoyance at my intrusion. She managed to fangirl without gushing, which was something I wasn’t used to seeing. In my line of work, gushing, crying, and even being hit with a hail of still-warm panties was the norm from fans.
Maybe if I took off my glasses she’d gush a little. 


Would she even recognize me? I wasn’t as front-and-center as the rest of the band, being that I was always behind my drum kit, but I still had a pretty massive following. Thus, the need for anonymity when I was out and about. 


“Emily, maybe you should run along and finish up. I’ll take care of Mr.—um, this gentleman.” The man looked at me with a shrug, not sure what to say to her but having clearly decided she needed not be privy to my identity. 


I disagreed. 
I bent forward and gave her a disarming smile. “The artist thinks you’ve done an amazing job already. Don’t touch a thing. It’s all perfect.”
“And how could you possibly know that?” she snipped. 
I straightened up and tilted my head down, letting the corner of my mouth quirk up in an ironic smile as I peered at her over the top of my glasses. 


She just stared at me for a minute, her initial frown morphing before my eyes. She went from annoyed to confused to excited to mortified in the span of a few seconds before making a long gasping sound low in her throat. “Oh, shit.” Her face went white, and one hand came up to clutch her chest over her heart like it was hammering behind her ribs.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a spur of the moment decision. The owner and curator had both signed NDAs, but she hadn’t. I wanted to be worried about it, but standing there, watching her slowly turn green, I just couldn’t muster enough self-awareness to care. All I could focus on was her and how she staggered back, apologizing profusely before running off in the direction of the ladies’ room. 
The curator—I believe she called him Arthur—looked at me sheepishly. “Obviously, that wasn’t the welcome I’d envisioned for someone of your reputation and talent. I can only assume it fell short of your expectations, as well.”


If he’d seen some of the greetings I’d gotten over the years from the droves of Thrill of the Chase followers, he wouldn’t have bothered asking such a stupid question. “I’ve had better,” I deadpanned.
Anna Paige is the author of the Broken series, the Thrill of the Chase series, and Off Script, a sexy standalone romance.


She lives in a rural town in North Carolina where the only activity is the rhythmic color change of the solitary stoplight and a very real threat of being carried away by mosquitoes. The only alternative to terminal boredom is writing, making life interesting if only on the page. 

Anna is happily married, with one amazing son and a pair of hilarious pets. When she’s not writing, she’s trying to make a dent in her TBR pile. Given that she’s constantly adding new titles to the list, the chances of her ever finishing are slim.

And she’s completely fine with that.



PreOrder/Release Blitz: Nailed by Cora Brent

Title: Nailed
Series: Worked Up #2
Author: Cora Brent
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 13, 2018



“Nailed is a brilliant, enemies to lovers romance and I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Audrey and Jason – those two have some serious chemistry!!” – Nikkigracereads

“Another amazing and solid read by Cora Brent.” – Michella

“Nailed is a wonderful read with everything I love in a good book.” – KD

A scorching workplace romance proves hazardous in this new stand-alone from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Cora Brent.



As a project manager at a successful construction firm, Audrey Gordon is used to grueling eighty-hour workweeks. That’s what it takes to be the best in this business. 

But what happens when Audrey is assigned to the biggest project in the city? 

She’s forced to team up with former lover and office rival Jason Roma. 

Not only is Jason as cocky and hot-wired as ever, he still manages to get under Audrey’s skin in ways she has spent years trying to forget. 

Yet Jason is determined to rekindle the past. 

And this time the lines between work and passion might be permanently blurred.




Cora Brent was born in a cold climate and escaped as soon as it was legally possible. Now, she lives in the desert with her husband, two kids and a prickly pear cactus she has affectionately named ‘Spot’. Cora’s closet is filled with boxes of unfinished stories that date back her 1980’s childhood and all her life she has dreamed of being an author. Amazingly, she is now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of contemporary romance and begs not to be awakened from this dream.



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