About the Author
About the Author
Beauregard and the Beast
Published by: Dreamspinner Press
Publication date: August 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
His greatest prize can’t be won in the octagon.
Champion MMA fighter Adam Littrell needs no distractions as he prepares for the fight that will determine whether he retires. But when he opens the door of his swanky Las Vegas home to his new personal assistant, Bo Wilkins, staying focused becomes a struggle.
Aware of Adam’s surly reputation, Bo doesn’t expect to like his new employer, let alone fall for him. But Bo is pleasantly surprised when a shared love of books leads them to study for their GEDs together and plan for a life after their current careers. Adam won’t be able to fight forever, and Bo wants a relationship on equal footing.
But just as their relationship is getting off the ground, the sister Bo raised needs his help, and he drops everything. With Adam’s final match looming and Bo in a different city, reuniting will be the real challenge.
Adam scrubbed both hands over his face and stifled a groan. He glanced at Bo, who sat on the floor opposite him at the stone coffee table, frowning at the workbooks spread before him. His pencil tapped in an irritated rhythm against the pages.
Everything about Bo’s concentration and drive to succeed during this grueling cram session drove Adam to the brink of insanity. Not out of jealousy, even though his own abilities paled in comparison to Bo’s, but because his passion, resilience, and dedication were so goddamn sexy.
Over the past month, Bo had blossomed under the stress that weighed Adam down. His excitement was palpable. It lit up the room and lifted Adam’s spirits unlike anything else. Anytime he wanted to give up, one look at Bo would ease his frustrations and remind him why he’d committed to this in the first place.
Because it meant the world to Bo.
“You feeling as fried as I am?”
Bo’s frown deepened into a scowl. He dropped his pencil and met Adam’s stare. “Who cares how much Jack spent on his new car? And why does it matter that it was $2,400 less than five times the $5,000 selling price of his old one? What benefit does the ability to figure this out provide for my future?”
Chuckling, Adam tucked his thumb under the cover of his book and flipped it closed. Getting his GED might be a dream come true for Bo, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the stress. He just handled it better than Adam because it came with a prize at the end. One that meant much more to Bo.
“I’m sure they’d say all this ‘knowledge’ adds to our critical thinking skills or some shit like that.”
“I don’t think my critical thinking skills have any more room to grow. I’m at capacity.” Bo moaned and let his forehead drop to the table. “I’m too old to learn high school math. My brain doesn’t work that way anymore.”
The mutual teasing about the gap in their age hadn’t let up with time. In fact, as they grew more comfortable together, the razzing only increased. There was no doubt Bo’s remark had been meant as a proverbial jab to his elderly ribs.
Adam stretched his leg under the table and gave Bo’s bent knee a shove with his foot. “Watch it with the ‘too old’ comments, pipsqueak. How do you think I feel? At least you’ve been helping Lulu with her homework all these years. Keeping your exposure level up. The last time I gave any of this shit a second thought, you were still in diapers.”
“I was not.” Bo’s head whipped up and his eyes flashed with mock indignation. “Are you trying to say I was still wetting my pants at six years old?”
A bark of laughter rose up Adam’s throat. “Your addition’s a little off there, Einstein. By your calculations, I was taking freshman math at nineteen.”
“Nuh-uh. You would’ve been fourteen or fifteen. Which means I would’ve been….” Bo tapped his pencil against the thick black upper frame of his browline glasses. His head tilted as his clearly overmathed brain struggled to work out the simple equation.
“If I was fifteen, you would’ve been at the terrible-two stage. As stubborn as you are, I bet your folks knew better than to try and potty train you early. So, yes, my guess is you were definitely still pissing your pants the last time I did high school algebra.”
Bo’s jaw sagged. His mouth opened and closed a few times as his brows drew together. “Jeez. You really are old.”
Before Adam could retort with an exaggerated show of offense, Bo shot him one of his patented belly-twisting, heart-stopping grins. Adam huffed out a calming breath to get himself under control before returning the smile. “Whataya say we call it quits a bit early tonight? We’re a month into this miserable shit. Halfway done. I’d say that calls for a celebration.”
“A celebration?” Bo squinted his eyes. “I need more information before I agree to anything. You’re a man who can’t be trusted with surprises.”
Adam let his wrist go limp before pointing to his chest. He popped his brows and drew back his chin in faux shock. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you.” Bo glowered. “If you aren’t ruining my beautiful new clothes with sticky fake blood, you’re assaulting my ears with crappy music, or landing me on the wrong side of a grumpy bouncer. My tailbone is still bruised from that behemoth throwing me out on my backside.”
Guilt pinched Adam’s stomach. He hadn’t meant for Bo to get tossed out of his favorite club the previous weekend. He was so used to waltzing through the entrance of 1 OAK at the Mirage unchecked—the velvet rope lifted and his path cleared without question—that he hadn’t considered his tagalong would warrant different treatment.
“Okay, okay, fine.” Adam harrumphed. “No surprises. How about plain old dinner? We could hit up Giada for old time’s sake.”
Bo slammed his workbook shut and smirked. “I’m game, but only if there’s no fake blood in my immediate future.”
Adam held up his trusty three-finger Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”
“I should get my head examined for trusting a curmudgeon like you not to tell a lie.” Rolling his eyes, Bo rose to his feet. “Come on, old man. Let’s get some food.”
Evie Drae has won first place in seven Romance Writers of America® competitions and is a double finalist in the 2019 Golden Heart®. She landed her literary agent Eva Scalzo from Speilburg Literary following a dual win in the 2018 RWA® Heart to Heart.
She loves encouraging her fellow writers and started the #writeLGBTQ and #promoLGBTQ hashtags on Twitter to support LGBTQ+ authors and allies. She is married to the love of her life, is the mother of three fur babies, and runs almost entirely on coffee and good vibes.
All This Could Be Yours
Publication date: August 11th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance, Suspense
Can a straightlaced FBI agent fake a relationship with a mob rat long enough to close the case?
There’s only one way out of this family, but Tanner thinks he’s found another one. He’s going to fake a relationship with a straightlaced undercover FBI agent and help him take the organization down from within. That is, if the two of them don’t strangle each other first.
Maddox hates the Mob. He doesn’t have a lot of respect for mob rats either. He knows why he was stuck with this case, and he’s not thrilled about it. He wants the win, but having to play nice with gorgeous criminal Tanner might be more than he can take.
When secrets come out, Tanner and Maddox will have to trust each other with everything they have. They may be opposites, but they’re exactly what each other will need to get through this job with their bodies and souls together.
Tanner slipped into the grungy old pub and looked around for familiar faces. Professor Agnusdei sat just where he said he’d be, at their usual table near the back. Sanjana sat there too, and a warm flush of gratitude washed over Tanner. He didn’t think he could do this without her. She’d been his best friend since undergrad. If anyone was going to support him, it would be Sanjana.
The pair looked bizarre sitting across from each other like that. Sanjana got a few odd looks for being in the pub in the first place, but she didn’t seem to pay much attention to them. She noticed Tanner before Agnusdei did, because she was observant like that. She raised her pint in Tanner’s direction as he slid into the seat beside Agnusdei. He kept his back to the wall, so no one could sneak up behind him, because old habits died hard.
He didn’t see anyone else he knew here. He didn’t see anyone who even looked familiar. Of course, most of his dad’s cronies would feel pretty uncomfortable down here in the Village. Tanner stayed down here for precisely that reason. He didn’t let himself get complacent, but he welcomed the chance to breathe a little more freely. Every little bit helped.
When the waiter came along, Tanner ordered a Brooklyn IPA and a salad. He didn’t know how much he’d be able to eat, but was used to faking it. He’d spent most of his life making everything look normal from the outside. He might not be able to see any of his father’s buddies, but that didn’t mean none of them were watching. It was always, always better to be safe than sorry.
Sanjana frowned at him and the small talk he made with both of them. She didn’t understand why he was so twitchy and so distracted. Tanner could live with that. She didn’t need to understand. She’d stand by him no matter what happened. Dr. Agnusdei, on the other hand, understood everything. He’d successfully prosecuted plenty of guys just like Tanner’s father. Most of his witnesses even survived to tell the tale.
It was that most that Tanner found hardest to swallow. His life might not be much of a life, but Tanner wasn’t quite ready to give it up just yet.
When Tanner’s food had been delivered and a second round of drinks ordered for everyone, Tanner dropped the act. He dropped some of it, at least. He’d never be able to drop it completely, not even with his closest friends. “So.” He took a deep breath and toyed with his fork. “Were you able to get in touch with your friends?” He didn’t dare say the words FBI. There was no way for Tanner’s father to know where he was, but if anyone could find a way, it was Jimmy.
Agnusdei nodded. “I’ve got to say, Tanner, they were suspicious at first.” The old man had a Bronx accent as thick as cream cheese on a bagel. He’d grown up within sight of the stadium, and put himself through school. He made a name for himself prosecuting the Mob, and he had the scars to prove it. He wasn’t afraid of anything.
Of course, he wasn’t the one going against his own family. He didn’t have to be afraid of anything.
“I’d be suspicious too.” Tanner kept his head up. He refused to show his disappointment. Why wouldn’t the Feds be suspicious? The Garofalo family just didn’t rat like that, not that they knew of. “What did they recommend?”
Agnusdei let out a soft laugh. “Well, at first, they said you should straighten up, fly right, and let the system work itself out.”
Tanner couldn’t help himself. He grabbed his drink and finished it in one gulp. He couldn’t allow himself any other expression, but Agnusdei had just given him the worst news he could have offered. “They seriously don’t want to hear what Jimmy Garofalo’s son has to offer?” he croaked, leaning forward.
“Well, the last time they got approached by one of Old Man Jimmy’s sons, he pulled a no-show.” Agnusdei spread his hands in front of him, as if to say what can you do?
Tanner saw red for a moment. Here he was, trying to do the right thing and help his country, and they didn’t care. “Did you point out that Abe was killed for his trouble?” He managed to get that little nugget out without passing out. He supposed he should be proud.
Sanjana gasped. Tanner hadn’t given her many details. She knew his family was criminal. She knew he was looking to get out and turn them in. She didn’t know how bad it really was. Tanner hoped she never would. What he’d been made to do to Abe would scar her for life, even though she didn’t have to see the results.
Agnusdei grimaced for a second. Then he scratched his white beard. “That did come up, yes. It was a point on which they’d been previously uninformed. When I showed them the pictures you sent, they became a lot more eager to speak with you.”
Tanner relaxed, just a little. At least he’d get to speak, to give evidence. There was still a good chance he’d go to jail, and go for a long time, but that was a risk he’d have to take. After what had been done to Abe, he was a lot more willing to accept that risk than he had been. Life in prison was a hell of a lot better than what Abe got.
His leg bounced up and down under the table. It was a nervous tic, he could no more control it than he could hold back the roll call at the Stadium. “Great. Thank you.”
Agnusdei cleared his throat. “Don’t thank me yet. There’s a strong possibility you’ll wind up doing some time yourself. It seems your hands aren’t necessarily clean, at least not as Tanner Garofalo. You’d think that would have come up before you got a federal clerkship, but some things will always slip through the cracks here and there. Taking your mother’s last name probably helped with that.”
Sanjana picked her head up. Her dark eyes blazed. “No. No, absolutely not. That’s unacceptable. He was forced to do those things. The consequences of not doing them were death.” She turned to face him, long black braid whipping around and striking a waiter as he passed. “Tell him.”
Tanner smiled at Sanjana, but it wasn’t a happy smile. When he thought about the things he’d done, he wanted to throw up. He didn’t know how she knew about the things he’d done, but she wasn’t wrong. The only problem was, it didn’t matter. “It’s true, Sanjana. I was under duress, but here’s the thing. I’d have to prove I was under duress, and it’s my word against theirs.”
Agnusdei’s smile was almost as sad as Tanner’s had been. “And therein lies the rub. You’d likely get consideration, and a lot of it, for coming forward and cooperating. But let’s be real. A judge would want you to pay some kind of penalty for doing those things in the first place.”
Tanner slumped in his seat. A judge would want to punish him, even if he could prove duress. Tanner wanted to punish himself, and he knew what kind of duress he’d been under. Duress would be difficult to prove to an outsider. He could show the pictures of Abe’s execution, but what proof did he have that his father and brother had been the ones calling the shots? Only his word.
He licked his lips and reached for that second beer. He didn’t often indulge in more than one drink, but today was different. Today, he was setting things in motion that would change everything forever, one way or another. “I guess I have to accept that then.”
Sanjana shook her head. “No. That’s absurd. You can’t. You finished law school all of what, a year ago? You put yourself through all of that, just to step back and say â€˜Yes, please, give me some prison time?’ That’s absurd.” She waved her hand at Tanner and turned to Agnusdei. “Tell your friends either he gets complete immunity, or he keeps his mouth as sealed as a tomb.”
Agnusdei took a sip of his beer. His lips twitched with amusement. “I see. Are you perhaps working in defense, Ms. Kulkarni?”
“As a matter of fact I am –”
“Tell them to give you a raise. Never mind, I’ll call your firm myself. They want hard evidence, Mr. Gray. They’re interested in what you have to say. They’ve had it in for your father for a while now, but they haven’t been able to make anything stick. Here’s the thing. A guy who’s trying to get out of the mob, without a record, is going to be someone the defense is going to have a field day with. And you’re a smart lawyer. You know what they’d do to you.”
Tanner swallowed hard. He’d known this going in. “They want something they can go in with that will back up my claims. Something that they can point to that corroborates my story.”
“Exactly.” Agnusdei studied Tanner’s face. Tanner wasn’t a fan of being under this kind of scrutiny. It was too much like being in church, in the confessional. Everything he’d ever done, from lying about an extra piece of candy to going down on a classmate behind the bleachers to shooting one of his father’s rivals in the head as his father looked on, played back before his eyes.
“My father keeps a backup disc.” His mouth went dry as he said it. He could see the backup disc in the safe, under his father’s desk. He remembered going in there with Abe and learning how to break into the stupid thing. At the time, Jimmy had let them do it. He’d figured it was a good life skill to have. “It’s locked up, but I know where it is. And my brother’s wedding is in two weeks. I’ll have an excuse to be on site. I can sneak in, get it, and get out.”
Agnus Dei nodded. “That’s a good offer. It shows your bona fides. They might ask for something else, but I’ll bring this up to them.” He tapped his fingertips on the table for a few seconds. “I’ve got to say, Tanner. What you’re proposing, what you’re offering, it’s pretty brave.”
“It’s not, not really.” Tanner closed his eyes for a second. He could only close them for a second. He didn’t dare relax in a public place like this. “When Abe – when he died – well.” He scratched at his throat. “Even talking about this feels like I’m being strangled, you know? But, ah. I never wanted to be part of the family business. Never. Abe was a little more live and let live about it, until he got to be older and Dad started bumping off friends of Abe’s he didn’t agree with. Then Abe was more on my side.
“So when Dad killed Abe, I knew I had to find a way out. That’s just all there is to it.” He laughed a little, bitterness creeping into his tone. “He’s got a role in mind for me but so far he’s been willing to let me “sow my wild oats.’ Except now, he’s got a girl he wants me to marry, and he’s talking about how it’s time for me to step up and take on my responsibilities. I’m not killing people for him anymore. I’m just not. And my older brother–he’s even worse. For Dad, it’s just business. For my brother, it’s personal. He gets off on it. But I’m supposed to treat Jimmy Junior like he’s my dad?” Tanner scoffed.
“If I balk too much, I get what Abe got. If I walk away, I get what Abe got. If I stay, I’ll do it to myself, because I can’t make myself be what they are. The only way to get out and survive is to make sure they’re in jail. Maybe once upon a time, organizations like ours did some good in the community, you know, helping families out and keeping people safe and stuff. Now? Now, we’re a cancer. We’ve got to go.”
Sanjana put a hand on Tanner’s. “We’re here for you, Tanner. I’m not going to let them force you to do anything you don’t want to do. It doesn’t matter if that’s killing people or marrying a woman.”
Agnusdei raised an eyebrow. A little smirk played across his face. “They got the memo, right? You’re out to them. I know you were very out on campus. If I know your dad, there’s no way he would have missed that.”
Tanner sighed. “I’ve been out since middle school. I think it was my way of screaming I wasn’t like them, so I shouldn’t have to do what they did.” He straightened up. “They don’t care. Not in a personal way, I mean. It’s all about the family to them, and what I can do for them. I’m free to do whatever I want, so long what I want coincides with what they want.”
Sanjana snorted. “Some things are universal.” She toasted him, and they all had a little laugh about that. “In all seriousness, I don’t want you to do this if you’re going to put yourself in danger. And prison is danger, Tanner. You haven’t been there. I’m there at least once per week for my clients. It’s not something you want.”
“I don’t feel I have a choice. It’s either go out like this, with whatever risks it entails, or go out feet first.” Tanner met her eyes. “Either way, I can’t go on. Not after Abe got killed.” Neither Agnusdei nor Sanjana knew how long Tanner had this plan to turn himself into a rat, but they didn’t need to know. It wasn’t relevant.
Agnusdei cleared his throat. “So we’re agreed? You’re still going to talk to them?”
Tanner swallowed past the lump of fear in his throat. “Absolutely.”
J. V. Speyer has lived in upstate New York and rural Catalonia before settling in the greater Boston area. She has worked in archaeology, security, accountancy, finance, and non-profit management. She currently lives just south of Boston in a house old enough to remember when her town was a tavern community with a farming problem. (No, really. John Adams complained about it. A lot.)
When not writing, J. V. enjoys watching baseball and seeking out all of New England’s creepiest spots. Her Spawn has turned her into a hockey enthusiast. She can be bribed with gin, tequila, and cats.
The Body Painter
(Master of Trickery Duet #1)
Publication date: August 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
“Must be slim, able to stand for long periods of time, and be impervious to the cold.”
The headline caught my attention.
“Hours are negotiable, pay is minimal, clothing absolutely forbidden.”
The second line piqued my curiosity.
“Able to hold your bladder and tongue, refrain from opinions or suggestions, and be the perfect living canvas.”
The third made me scowl.
“Other attributes required: non-ticklish, contortionist, and obedient. Must also enjoy being studied while naked in a crowd.”
The fourth made me shudder.
“Call or email ‘YOUR SKIN, HIS CANVAS’ if interested in applying.”
The final made my heart race.
I should’ve kept scrolling past the advertisement.
I should’ve applied for the boring receptionist job at minimum wage.
I should’ve clicked on any other job where I got to keep my clothes on.
But I didn’t.
My interview is tomorrow…
“Um, hi? I’m…eh, here for the interview?” I stepped warily toward the noise.
Another curse followed by a loud thump.
“I heard you the first time.” A man appeared from the darkness.
A man with shaggy dark hair, five o’clock shadow, and eyes so maliciously green they masqueraded as body parts but were really well-honed weapons.
A man who was bleeding from his temple, limping, and holding his elbow as if it needed reattaching.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if—” I gulped as something long ago tugged in remembrance.
It can’t be…
Recognition slammed into me as forcibly as it slammed into him.
I stumbled under the weight.
Punched by the unbelievable.
“Gil? Oh, my God. Gil!”
More gorgeous than he’d ever been.
I fought every instinct to go to him.
Did my best not to grab him, kiss him, shake him, slap him.
A gust of air blasted through the warehouse as if the winds of fate woke up, felt a tug on whatever linked us together, and clapped its hands in glee, saying, ‘Yes, this will be fun. Let’s put these two back together again.’
“Olin? Fuck…it’s you.” His gaze tore over me as hungrily as mine tore over him.
Time stood still. It reversed. It plopped us right back in the past where this boy had held my heart, and I’d captured his, and together we knew it would always be about us.
There is no more us.
I stumbled toward him, desperate to be nearer despite so much pain. “I can’t believe this. What are you doing here?”
“What am I? What are you?” He tripped in my direction, his face etched with lines I hadn’t seen in his youth, his body all angles and threats. As fast as he’d headed toward me, he halted as if yanked back by a rope. His face fell. His shock at seeing me morphed into hardness.
I didn’t understand how he could change so much in a few short seconds.
Goosebumps decorated me as coldness settled like a cloak around his shoulders.
“I’ve been back in Birmingham two years. I—” I stopped talking, unable to share the secrets that followed such a statement. “I…”
He closed his eyes, shutting me out as if battling something deep within him. Deliberately, he took a step back, his chin coming up, his coldness settling into ice.
The silence that’d chased us in our fledgling romance returned, thick and heavy.
My back prickled. My mouth turned dry.
Too much distance existed between us, swelling with memory of how things had ended, why we were strangers now, and just how much heartbreak had been left behind.
Along with silence came shadows, creeping over Gil’s expression, shutting down any remaining signs of his shock and gratefulness at seeing me. Heartbeat by heartbeat, he hid any sign that my visit was a welcome one.
I struggled, not knowing what to say.
His gaze no longer held happiness, just aching emptiness and suspicion. “How did you find me?” He didn’t give me chance to reply. “You can’t be here, Olin. You need to leave. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
Pepper Winters is a multiple New York Times, Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestseller.
After chasing her dreams to become a full-time writer, Pepper has earned recognition with awards for best Dark Romance, best BDSM Series, and best Hero. She’s an multiple #1 iBooks bestseller, along with #1 in Erotic Romance, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary, and Erotica Thriller. She’s also honoured to wear the IndieReader Badge for being a Top 10 Indie Bestseller.
Pepper is a Hybrid Author of both Traditional and Self-published work. Her Pure Corruption Series was released by Grand Central, Hachette.
Her books have garnered foreign interest and are currently being translated into numerous languages, including already released titles in Italian, French, German, Hebrew, and Turkish.
Tides of Time
Published by: City Owl Press
Publication date: August 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A “good girl” witch hiding secrets from her family…
Cami wants a normal life. Or at least as normal as a life in a family of witches can be. She can’t tell her sisters about her violent ex. Or that she broke the first rule of magic to “harm none.” When her youngest sister asks for help unraveling the death of a 1930’s star abused by those she loved, Cami can’t say no.
A reformed bad boy who doesn’t know his own family’s secrets…
Sam lives for his restaurant and coveted screenplay expertise of Hollywood history. He avoids the entanglements of relationships since even his own parents didn’t want him. But when the enchanting Cami needs his help to crack an unsolved mystery, he can’t resist. The closer they come to finding a killer, the more they crave each other. But someone is determined to stop them.
Can they solve the mystery before history repeats itself?
The roar of a small engine combined with slaps of water came to her above the normal “whoosh” of the waves hitting the shore. Her head snapped up. A jet ski raced along the waves, encroaching on the surfers.
She stopped grabbing at her board and pushed the tangle of wet hair from her face. The rider zoomed dangerously close to Sam. Her breath caught.
The tall, lean man leaning over the handlebars had a cap pulled low over his forehead. She couldn’t see his face, and long sleeves covered his skin, but she could swear she saw twists of familiar blond hair beneath the hat. It couldn’t be. Her imagination zipped to memories of her last night at the beach with Neil.
How could the rider not see Sam where he sat astride his board? Panic swirled through her.
“Sam!” She jumped on her board and pulled fast strokes.
Sam paddled toward the shore, whipping his head around to the jet ski.
Too late. She judged the distance between them, climbing to her knees to wave her arms in desperation. She had to get the rider’s attention. She screamed Sam’s name again.
The jet ski edged so close she could see the plume shooting out the back as it skipped over the water. Sam paddled harder, his jaw set in a tight line.
The motor blared louder. The bastard was accelerating.
She’d never get to Sam in time, and he was no match for an engine. A wave swept over his head. He rolled beneath it. The spray from the jet ski arced over him as the rider banked.
Her hand flew to her face. Relief poured over her. The jet ski revved again and rolled into a sharp U-turn straight for Sam.
Fear shot through her, surging her elemental magic perilously close to spilling over. Thrusting one hand into the water, she shoved hard. Her mouth curved downward. She pulsed a wave between Sam and the jet ski. One to stop the danger.
Power thrummed through her, and another pulse created a second wave pushing Sam toward the shore. She should stop while she still could, but the connection and clawing need rolled through her. The third push brought Sam almost even with her, a fourth wave capsized the jet ski, and a fifth tugged the menace further from his ride. She could scare him as badly as he’d terrified them.
Hurt him. Pull him under, hold him there as he would do to you and yours. The same hunger she’d fought when she’d held Neil’s head below the tide tore through her. A heartbeat later, she could hear echoes of Ama teaching the first rule of magic. Ama’s sweet brown eyes filled with laughter as she sang lullabies and kissed her to sleep with whispers of, “May you harm none. I love you, mija.”
The water stilled beneath her fingers, rocking her tenderly. She wouldn’t break the rule. Not again. Not for this.
Yet, her elemental magic rushed through her, more thrilling than any ride on a board. The call devoured every part of her, wanting to reclaim her as its own.
“Sweetheart.” Sam reached for her. “You good?”
His hand brushed her waist, and the magic blazed. His fingers locked on her, and her magic blinked away to a calm, constant hum. She studied him, taking in every inch of him.
“Sam?” Her voice broke, and he gathered her close. She ran her hands over his head and down to his suit, checking for any injuries. Or at least she’d meant to simply assure herself of his safety. But magic had a price. An individual toll for each user to pay.
For Mina, it brought on hunger. For Delia, the power could send her into a blackout. For Cami, her magic had always craved affection, and right now, it wanted Sam.
She crawled from her own board until she’d practically climbed in his lap. He fumbled for a moment but adjusted to hold her against him. She brought his head down to hers and pressed her lips against his. Her kiss marked a claim, licking and teasing until the needs of her power subsided.
The demand for passion finally gave way to the catcalls and encouraging whistles from the other surfers. Cami ducked her head.
Sam snickered and bit his lips, clearly savoring the taste of her there. “Surfer girls are hot.”
Award-winning author Luna Joya writes hex and sex in The Legacy Series, a witch family saga of romances about kickass heroines and the men who love them.
Fluent in sarcasm and penal code, Luna prosecutes sex crimes and homicides by day and writes paranormal romance at night. She loves history, especially Los Angeles and Hollywood lore. A survivor of traumatic brain injury with steel body parts, she lives in SoCal with her combat veteran husband and their two-pound terror of a rescue pup.
Her debut novel TIDES OF TIME releases from City Owl Press in August 2019. The next two novels in The Legacy Series will be released from City Owl Press with dates to be announced later this year.
In 2018, her manuscripts won First Place Speculative Fiction in the San Francisco Heart-to Heart Contest, Second Place Paranormal Romance in The Cleveland Rocks Contest, Third Place Paranormal Romance in the 2018 The Catherine Contest, Third Place in the FF&P On The Far Side Contest, and Honorable Mention in The Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense.
(On the Edge, #3)
Published by: Limitless Publishing
Publication date: August 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports
I was fourteen the first time I laid eyes on the smoking hot, silver-eyed, goalie. Damon Wolfe was the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen. All it took was one glance, one sentence and my heart was his. But I was too young and he was too broken.
Seven years later, he’s the biggest off the ice player in the NHL and I’m his virginal best friend.
Of course, I have the perfect solution to that particular problem, but Damon keeps on refusing to be the one to vanquish my chastity. He claims he doesn’t want to ruin our friendship, that he’s not good enough for me. Yet, somehow his eyes say something different whenever he looks at me.
Just one night, that’s all I’m asking.
What’s the worst that can happen?
I was mesmerized by Heaven Andersen the first time I looked into her sparkling turquoise eyes. She was a teenage kid with a mouth full of braces and bruised knees, but she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen—like a fairy-tale princess. With one look, she sent all my inner demons running. But she was just a kid and I was too damaged.
Seven years later, she’s my best friend. My best friend with a single-minded mission—to get laid.
She wants me to take her virginity and teach her about sex. But she’s an off-limits, flawless diamond girl, and so far out of the realm of anything my blackened heart is looking for or deserves it’s laughable.
So, how come I’m not laughing? How come my best friend is the first thing I think about in the morning and last thing I think about at night? More importantly, what am I going to do to protect her—from me?
Slamming my book closed, I heave out another huge, exasperated sigh. Ever since our first meeting four years ago, we have this unknowingly-provocative-on-Wolfe’s-part-game we play exchanging cornball pick-up lines. After Wolfe playfully teased me with one the first time I met him, I decided I wasn’t going to stand there like some star-struck little fangirl when he taunted me. So, I honed my cheese whiz pick-up line skills and gave them right back to him.
“Hey, D! Guess what I’m wearing?” I quip, standing up on the blanket as he walks toward me. His wry grin morphs to a wide-eyed, shocked expression before it’s quickly replaced by his usual indifferent smug look.
“W…what are you wearing?”
“The smile you gave me.” I hold my arms out in a ta-da position as I deliver the corny line.
“Holy shit, Pip. When did you grow tits?” He smirks while shoving his board into an upright position in the sand
“Right about the time you were away at school learning to be an even bigger ass.” I tilt my head and smirk right back at him.
“Real nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?” He pulls the elastic from around his man bun and flops down on his back on the blanket next to me, stretching his arms over his head. His chest muscles ripple causing my heart muscle to undulate like a series of corduroy ocean swells. I clench my gaping mouth closed and swallow the gasp I refuse to let him hear.
Ugh. The present man candy dominating my panorama is too much. As I lay on my side on the blanket facing Wolfe, my hip pressing into the soft sand, my thoughts drift to him. My body temperature soars, not from the blazing sun or the warm baked sand, and not even from the steamy sex scene I was reading. It’s the red-hot images smoldering through my mind—all the things I’d like to be doing with him, which have me panting.
As a lover of the northeast US, my husband and I moved to the Poconos several years ago to open a Chiropractic Clinic. Four children and a menagerie of animals later, I have finally found time to fulfill my lifelong dream of writing novels. A dreamer at heart, romance is—of course—the genre I spend most of my time writing and reading into the wee hours of the morning. However, if it’s a good book, any genre can keep me immersed in the story for hours.
When I’m not juggling work responsibilities and writing, I enjoy baking, knitting, traveling, hiking the beautiful hills and woods around my home and spending time with my family.
Callie Harris travels from her home in Alabama to her aunt’s former mansion in Maine to unravel the haunting forty-year-old mystery of Dr. Laverne Harris Doss’ brutal death.
Why wasn’t a murder weapon found? Was her uncle justly convicted of the killing? Was his mistress involved? Or was the murderer the bearded stranger rumored to have arrived by train that night?
In the charming town of Richmond, located on the banks of Maine’s historic Kennebec River, Callie uncovers the community’s darkest secrets—a botched police investigation, a betrayed widow’s lie, a dead woman’s blackmail, and a wealthy philanthropist’s shame. The web of intrigue extends far beyond Callie’s suspicions and its connection to her personal story pierces her to the core.
FREE PREQUEL KRAY & NORTH CLICK HERE ➡BookHip.com/SZCFQL
North and Kray are like a unit, where there’s one, there’s the other. When the both of them accepted a case involving a missing agent, they became more involved than they bargained for.
Reva might have been rescued from the black market syndicate, but she’s left with scars that need healing inside and out.
North’s only two goals are to take care of Reva, and to end everyone who were responsible of holding her captive. Will North and Reva find justice and their happily ever after? Or is North too consumed with revenge he risks his life along with others in the process?
The complete Broken Deeds MC series can be read together or separately. Each book in the Broken Deeds MC series is a complete standalone story featuring a new couple.
Except for Kray and North. They are like a unit, where there’s one, there’s the other. As are their stories; you read one, you’ll need the other.
For a greater reading experience, recommended reading order:
“Deeds” Broken Deeds MC book one
“Broke” Broken Deeds MC book two
“Depay” Broken Deeds MC book three
“Unforgiving” Broken Deeds MC book four
“Chopper” Broken Deeds MC book 4.5
“Lochlan” Broken Deeds MC book five
“Leaving The Past Behind” Broken Deeds MC book 5.5
“Kray” Broken Deeds MC book six
“North” Broken Deeds MC book seven
Links to all books in the Broken Deeds MC series:
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A Road More Traveled
Publication date: August 17th 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
Diana Cumberlin knows one thing: he’s coming for her, and he’s not the only one.
Fleeing a ruined marriage and a mob boss with a vendetta for revenge, Diana will do anything to protect her five-year-old daughter.
From contacting long lost lovers to family she abandoned years ago, Diana is determined to set right her past transgressions on a road more traveled.
Diana woke screaming, covered in blood, and found him laying dead by her side.
Her pink nightie was soaked through, sticky, and the room reeked of rust. Frozen in terror she stared at two wounds in the back of his head, each pouring blood. Her head pounded, and her vision was blurry. Was this even real? The warm, sap-substance all over her told her it was. The night before was a giant blank zone in her head, except for the gun. Had she fired it? She vaguely remembered the boom, how it shook in her hand, and acrid smell of gunpowder. A hangover from hell gripped her like a wicked vice, pressing the back of her neck and squeezing painfully.
She tried to get up, tried to run, but her legs dumped her by the side of the bed instead. The blood curdling scream she expelled scared even her. Did that come from her?
Scrambling in the dark for her cell phone on the nightstand, she finally grasped it and pulled it to the floor with her. Dialing 911, she barely waited for an answer before she screamed into the phone, “I’ve killed him! I’ve killed him!”
“Wake up, Diana!”
“No, no, no,” Diana murmured to the phantom telling her wake up, as she thrashed to and fro in the bed. He grasped her waist, pulling her toward him, and hissed in her ear again. “Wake up, please, baby, wake up!”
Diana’s eyes flew open and she lay stiff in his arms.
“George!” She screamed.
Her hands were curled by her sides and her legs straight out, and she couldn’t move. Her chest heaved, and she felt strangled all over again, just like every time he’d wrapped his hands right around her neck. As The remnants of that night slowly subsided, she sunk back into the mattress, this soft, deep one, and realized she wasn’t home.
Nor was it George beside her.
“Diana,” Justin’s voice pled with her again, “Di, please talk to me. You had a nightmare.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she liked her lips and tried to control her breathing, counting to eight, holding for four, then exhaling for eight more, just like her therapist had taught her. Justin ran his hands down her arms, her waist, her thighs, and it calmed her.
For the first time, her breathing slowed, and she came back to reality much faster.
She finally turned on her side and looked at him, searching his face. “Justin,” she whispered.
Rebekah Dodson is a prolific author of over 30 romance, fantasy, and science fiction novels. Her works include the series Postcards from Paris, #1 bestselling Curse of Lanval series, Life After Us series, and several stand alone novels and short stories. She has been writing her whole life, with her first published work of historical fiction with 4H Clubs of America at the age of 12, and poetry at the age of 16 with the National Poetry Society. With an extensive academic background including education, history, psychology and English, she currently works as a college professor by day and a writer by night.
Prison Princess: Sci-Fi Alien Romance
J.A. Huss, K.C. Cross
(Harem Station, #5)
Publication date: August 19th 2019
Genres: Sci-fi Alien Romance
THE BOYS OF HAREM STATION ARE KEEPING LOTS OF SECRETS!
Valor joined up with Tray after Beauty’s sacrifice because he knew Luck was destined to be with Princess Nyleena. There was no room in that relationship for a third wheel. But when he teamed up with Tray he had no idea that he’d be the third wheel in that partnership too.
Tray has been keeping ALCOR’s secrets since the day he arrived on Harem Station. Not just one or two… ALL of them. But he’s also been keeping one of his own.
His secret is a girl. Not a Cygnian girl. An Akeelian girl. A beautiful, mysterious, scheming secret girl that Tray has been in love with ever since she first turned up in his Pleasure Prison virtual reality asking him for help.
Except she’s not virtual.
She’s in danger.
And before Valor came along all he wanted to do was break her out of her prison and keep her for himself.
But now… he might have to learn to share.
Prison Princess is an erotic MMF ménage featuring double-endowed alien men, a girl who shouldn’t exist in a virtual Paradise, a love-struck sentient ship, two all-powerful AI’s willing to fight for her, and an entire book about LEARNING TO SHARE *wink-wink*.
I kiss her. Hard. My body blocks her in, pressing her against the wall so there’s no possibility of escape. My knee slips between her legs and then I kick her feet open. My cock grows harder against the soft skin of her inner thigh and I can’t wait to be inside her.
My fingers slip up into her hair and I pull it until she gasps and lets out a small squeak that will surely make me insane if she does it again. “Did you fuck him?” I ask.
“No,” she says softly. “But I wanted to.”
I laugh. And then I kiss her again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I say, thinking about how warm her mouth will be on my cock.
She smiles, still kissing me back. Coy and teasing now, she says, “I really did want to fuck him. But he’s your brother and that’s kind of gross.”
“Not my real brother,” I say, nibbling at her neck. I want to eat her up. “And he might be interested.” I stop nibbling and pull back just a little. “But we can talk about that later. Right now you’re just mine and I’m not willing to share.”
My other hand squeezes her breast and I hold her there. My little captive. My secret prisoner. Staring into her dark eyes as she looks up at me with longing.
No one has ever looked at me this way. Only Brigit.
“I love you,” I say.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” she quips. “You left me for several eternities this time. I’m not happy. You need to make it up to me.”
She nods, shyly. Trying not to smile.
I twirl her around, push her face up against the hut wall, and bite her shoulder as my cock slips between her legs. “Like this?” I ask, my fingers already playing with her ass.
“Like that,” she whimpers back. “Right now.”
“Better get yourself wet, princess. And you better do it quick. Because I’m not in the mood to wait and I don’t care if it hurts.”
JA Huss is the New York Times Bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times in the past five years. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings.
Her new sexy sci-fi romance and paranormal romance pen name is KC Cross and she writes novels and teleplays collaboratively with actor and screenwriter, Johnathan McClain.
Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world, the audio version of her semi-autobiographical book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively. Her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017. Her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018. Five of her book were optioned for a TV series by MGM television in 2018. And her book, Total Exposure, was nominated for a RITA Award in 2019.
She lives on a ranch in Central Colorado with her family.