“Excellent writing with a gut wrenching storyline.” ~SpunkyNSassy
“The Lost Saxons are quickly becoming one of my favorite re-reads.” ~Amazon Reviewer
Do you believe in fate?
I didn’t. I’d worked since childhood to become an NFL starting quarterback. All the blood, sweat, and tears were about to pay off with my name in the record books. Setting an NFL record was going to be the crowning achievement of my career. Hell, of my life.
But then fate, the cagey bitch, threw me a curveball I never saw coming. I ended up trapped in a doomsday bunker with four strangers, my chances at that record slipping away as days turned into months.
I never would’ve given Erin a second look. She was gorgeous, sure, but not my type. I liked women who were strong. Fearless. Resilient. Not to mention that she hated me.
But I was so wrong about her. And in that bunker, I fell in crazy, stupid love.
I thought a record would be my greatest triumph. But now, all I want is a shot with Erin. I’ve faced down massive linebackers intent on ending me. For her, I’ll go toe-to-toe with fate.
I sigh softly, willing my heart to stop jackhammering in my chest, and walk over to the large, opened steel door in the ground.
Kenna white knuckles the black steel ladder that leads straight down, scrambling to get her heels situated. I wonder again why she’s wearing a business suit and heels out here.
“Do you work here?” I ask her.
She gives me a sharp look. “I’m Derek’s personal assistant.”
“Oh, got it. And he must be the football player who owns the place?”
Kenna gawks at me in disbelief. “You don’t know who Derek Heaton is?”
I shrug. “Isn’t he a football player?”
“He’s the best quarterback in the league. Also the highest paid.”
“Huh. Well, good for him,” I say dismissively.
Kenna shrieks as one of her feet slips on the metal ladder.
“You okay?” I ask her.
I peer down into the dark hole, trying to think about anything other than going down there. Even after years of therapy, the panic is so strong I want to run away.
Just make it about the groceries, I tell myself. Think about getting the delivery where it needs to go as quickly as possible. You can do this.
I take a deep breath and then follow Kenna down the ladder. I start sweating immediately as my self-preservation instincts kick in. But I ignore it, descending the ladder to a small landing and then taking a staircase the rest of the way down.
For a moment, my fear is forgotten. The bunker is nothing like I was expecting. It’s open and expansive, the kitchen done with stainless appliances and warm wood cabinets. The floors are also wood, and there’s a large leather sectional in a living area.
“This way,” Kenna says, motioning impatiently from in front of a doorway.
I tear myself away from looking at the rich, slightly rustic décor and join her in a large white room. Fluorescent lights glow overhead, illuminating walls lined with shelves. About half the shelves are filled with supplies ranging from toilet paper to giant containers of tapioca pudding.
“Right here,” Kenna says, grabbing a clipboard and glancing down at it.
She stands in front of an empty section of shelves. I wait a couple seconds as she reads something on her list, but then I can’t take it anymore. I refuse to be down here for one minute longer than I have to.
“I’ll go get my first load,” I say, turning.
“I need it shelved in groups,” she says as I depart the room. “Keep all the peanut butter together, all the trail mix together, and so on. And make sure you fill the entire shelf all the way to the back.”
“Okay,” I call over my shoulder.
I hear male voices from somewhere in the bunker, but I ignore them, practically sprinting to the stairs out of this death trap hole in the ground.
When I get to the truck, I stuff my backpack with as much of the supplies it back hold, then grab another box to carry in my arms. Surveying the flatbed load, I realize it’s going to take at least twenty trips to get all this into the supply room.
Just great. I have to make myself go down that ladder over and over again.
As I reach the end of the stairs, I see three men in the living room area of the bunker. One is kneeling by the floor, looking at something. The other two are talking.
One of the two looks pretty young, maybe college-aged. His skin is deeply tanned and his hair is hidden beneath a baseball hat. The other one looks like a young Russell Crowe, very tall and all muscles and chiseled jaw line. He’s wearing shorts and a plain gray t-shirt.
He has to be the football player. He’s got arrogant pro athlete written all over him, from his biceps straining the sleeves of his shirt to his perfect smile.
Sandy Ridge 3
By Lynn Burke
Heat Level: 4
Release Date: November 14, 2018
Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, May December, Series, HEA, Novella
*Be warned: Anal sex, spanking
Nothing but Kayla’s fingers and not-so-trusty vibrator have given her an orgasm in almost a year, and the one man she’s hell-bent on breaking her losing streak hides behind his badge. Detective “Hottie Pants” Ford thwarts her every attempt at seduction, and even though vandalisms, a trashed apartment, and physical assault keeps throwing them together, he refuses to attempt a relationship ever again.
She sees past his façade into the man hiding his pain behind unbreakable rules and inflexible conditions, but even after the fiery chemistry between them ignites, she struggles to prove to him she is nothing like the woman who jaded him for life.
Heartbroken, Kayla decides on a vacation to help her peace of mind—and ends up at Sandy Ridge. With danger hot on her heels, can the man she turns to first recognize Kayla for who she is? Will he give her the chance she needs to let him know she wants him without condition, before it’s too late?
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07K2GCRL4
Detective Ford’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I can’t do this again.”
“Do what?” Kayla whispered even though he spoke as though to himself.
A muscle in his clenched jaw ticked, and it took him a few seconds to answer.
I’m not her, she thought to argue, but what did he know beyond the truth of her life? A rich young woman over ten years his junior whose daddy spoiled her rotten… Thinking he might turn on his heel and walk out without her even getting a chance to taste his lips twisted Kayla’s stomach.
“I don’t want a house and the picket fence, Detective.” The words spilled from her.
“Jacob,” he murmured, his gaze still on her lips.
“I don’t dream about rainbows and unicorns, Jacob,” Kayla whispered, her mind set on having him, giving her more boldness than usual. “I dream about your skin pressed against mine. Your mouth on my body, giving me what I want.”
He blinked, his gaze jerking up to her eyes, and he lifted his chin just enough, it felt as though he peered down at her. “Tell me what you want, Kayla.”
Alpha and commanding… yes, please. Emboldened, Kayla looked up at him through her lashes.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Jacob worked his jaw and thank fuck, lust rose to shimmer in his eyes.
“I’m not a gentle man.”
“I don’t want gentle.”
“I don’t do the cuddle and pillow talk bullshit after fucking a woman.”
All in, Kayla wasn’t about to hold back.
“Can’t cuddle and pillow talk if you bend me over the table in the back room.”
The man didn’t even flinch. “Conflict of interest, then.”
Kayla huffed a snort and dropped her arms, determined to win her way into the damn man’s slacks. She approached on trembling legs, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. His gray striped tie beckoned to her, and she slid the material between two fingers, trailing downward until she reached the end. Her fingertips rested on his belt buckle, and she lifted her gaze.
“Bullshit excuses,” she whispered.
His breath left in a rush, fanning her face with the scent of wintergreen.
“Jacob.” She quirked the corner of her lip.
War raged in his eyes, tensing his body looming over hers. That jaded, he probably hadn’t been intimate with too many women since his ex.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, breathless as hell and soaked through the bit of satin covering her throbbing pussy. Kayla slowly slid her hand downward, and when Jacob didn’t stop her, she found his cock, hard and heavy along his left thigh.
“You want me.”
His lips pursed, and Kayla squeezed his impressive girth, drawing a groan from his chest deep enough his mouth parted.
“Yes.” The whispered confession left his lips, and he grabbed her, yanking her full against his body. He crushed his mouth to hers before her held breath escaped, his soft yet demanding lips spinning her head. One hand fisted in her hair, Jacob tilted her head, thrusting his tongue between her lips.
Kayla moaned and sagged against him as his tongue swept along hers, tasting and devouring exactly as she’d hoped.
© Lynn Burke 2018
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Release date January 21, 2019
A Standalone Contemporary Romance
#1 New York Times Bestselling Author Vi Keeland
Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning.
I was late for the first day at my new job—a job I’d now have to compete for even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger.
While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons.
She’d ticketed a long line of cars—except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine.
Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine. Chances were, the owner would pay it and be none the wiser.
Except, I accidentally broke the windshield wiper while slipping the ticket onto the car’s window.
Seriously, my day couldn’t get any worse.
Things started to perk up when I ran into a gorgeous man in the elevator. We had one of those brief moments that only happened in movies.
You know the deal…your body lights up, fireworks go off, and the air around you crackles with electricity.
His heated stare left me flush when I stepped off the elevator.
Maybe things here wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Or so I thought.
Until I walked into my new boss’s office and met my competition.
The gorgeous man from the elevator was now my nemesis. His heated stare wasn’t because of any mutual attraction. It was because he’d saw me vandalize his car. And now he couldn’t wait to annihilate his rival.
There’s a fine line between love and hate—and we shouldn’t cross it.
We shouldn’t—but straddling that line could be so much fun.
Model: Lucas Bloms
Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative
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Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
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Damen Aetos. Mob boss. Madman.
And soon to be my husband.
He doesn’t care that I’m a virgin.
Doesn’t care about my beauty.
Nothing matters to him but my last name.
By marrying me, the Madman ensures that a centuries-old bargain will be met.