Indiscretions of a Porn God
(Porn Star Boyfriends #3)
Publication date: January 16th 2018
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
I’m not a saint. That’s not why I left the mafia.
I left because I’m god, because I need no one, and fail at nothing.
I’m Isaias Di Nascimbeni, owner of Lucid, the biggest adult entertainment studio in L.A. Son of Il Lince and second generation Italian in the U.S, I’m dirty rich and adored by highlife as well as lowlife.
Whatever I focus on turns to gold.
On the Richter’s scale of eye candy, I’m a twenty.
I’m a hunter who tests limits.
A warrior who goes shady when the law becomes dreary.
While conducting business at the St. Tatiana,
the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen enters my radar.
Isn’t it interesting that her name is Tatiana?
Isn’t it bizarre that she’s a nun?
Isn’t it wild that she’s unimpressed by me?
Isn’t it fucking insane that I can’t get her out of my head?
She doesn’t acknowledge me when I return to her church.
It’s unprecedented. Unheard of. Not happening.
But the hunt is my fetish.
Novice or not, she’s only postponing the inevitable.
Beautiful Tatiana asked for this.
By the time I’m done, she’ll worship me, because now
it’s game on.
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The condo is a three-story narrow affair with small rooms on all floors. On the top floor, I look into each bedroom and find the last room—the master bed—closed. I don’t knock before entering.
She’s splayed out on the bed, and the view is even sexier than I could have imagined. Despite her nun hang-up, despite the flawless business suit she wore all day, Tatiana isn’t an orderly girl; it seems she stepped right out of every item she was wearing, leaving them in a crumpled heap by the window. I picture her now, doing that with the drapes wide open like this. I stride over and close them.
At the center of the room, a modern simplistic canopy bed holds court. It’s fit for royalty, with tall mattresses on top of each other and wide enough for a foursome to pass out comfortably after a good fucking. My ice queen is breathtaking on it.
Thick duvets and a dozen pillows matched in my mother’s favorite colors, mustard yellow and rusty brown. Long sheets of silky hair fan out around Tatiana’s porcelain features. It’s like she was airborne before she flopped to her back. She appears even more ethereal than usual, so perfectly in need of the ultimate desecration. I’m just the monster for the job.
I shake my head slowly to myself; she’s damn near unreal. The smooth curves of an arm are naked, daintily spread out to a side, and she’s fully asleep, lashes fluttering inside her dream world. Hell, if she’s wearing anything at all, it’s hidden by sheets.
The beautiful Tatiana of the Valley must have misunderstood me. I bite my lip as I sit down on the edge of the bed, reaching a hand for her and stroking two rough fingers down her throat. She thought I was giving up the master bed to her. Of course I wasn’t.
I’m no gentleman.
The perfect arc of a thin, mahogany eyebrow lowers in sleepy confusion at my touch. Oh, she’s in for a surprise. I think I like this.
I lean toward the nightstand and switch the light on. Sluggishly, her eyes glide open. She can’t quite focus at first, but when she does, those crystal-grey stunners widen with surprise.
I grin. “If you’re to hang out with me, you need to sleep with an eye open. I run with wolves.”
“Bandits,” she counters. “You run with bandits.”
I shrug, pulling a thick strand of silk between my fingers and pulling downward. “Main thing, you can’t afford to sleep soundly, and with the door wide open at that.”
“It’d been a long twenty-four hours.”
“No matter. You forgot your drapes too. Good thing you have bodyguards.”
She huff-chuckles, squirming deliciously beneath her duvet. “Those two goons downstairs?”
“Yep, and me.”
“You are the wolf. I don’t see you as much defending me as eating me.”
Oh hell yeah. “Now we’re talking. On that note…” I steady myself on my arms, biceps hardening as I lower toward her and find her throat. I give her two chaste pecks before I let my tongue out to taste her. She shivers.
“What are you doing?” That voice is soft and inviting, not at all hesitant. Interesting. Small hands slide cautiously around my back. I feel them flutter over my shoulder blades and down to my waist. Fuck yeah.
“Kissing you.” I run my nose up her throat, meeting her jaw. Then I turn her face enough to lick her lower lip. It’s freaking succulent is what it is, so I drag it in between my lips and suckle on it.
“Isaias…” For one indecisive moment, she pulls away. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I take her jaw between my thumb and index finger and make her mouth connect with mine again. Her reaction is a quiet whimper that shoots straight to my cock. Tatiana’s lips slide apart, giving access to my tongue. She tastes how she smells, like warm sugar, woman, and addiction in its purest form. Fuck, I’d do this forever.
Her chest is heaving under me by the time I draw away. I lower my forehead, touching hers with mine. I stare at her, breathing heavily as I work to control my impulses. I want to peel her free of everything in my way, rip her open, and stuff her with myself. I need it now, in this second, and I want to roar doing it.
“I beg to differ,” I manage to say instead, picking up the thread she’s already forgotten. “This is my room. But with you in it, it’s ours.”
I do it now, with less violence than my testosterone reserves dictate: I pluck the duvet off her, crumpling it at her side. She gasps but doesn’t object when I wiggle the sheet off her too, revealing so much smooth, silky, delicate flesh, I feel my throat roll in a swallow.
I sit frozen for a second, taking in the vision she is. All she’s wearing is a lingerie set that makes my mouth water. With her flawless, creamy skin, the light pink color of that transparent ensemble has me groaning. The entire bra is made of floral lace. The pattern heightens the allure of the puffy, rose-colored nipples I’m seeing for the first time.
“You’re exactly like I knew you would be,” I whisper, letting my first, full feel of her start at the top of her chest. I slide my hand downward, the sensation of her sigh shivering under me as I fill my palm with a breast.
My eyes stray down the soft outline of her ribs to the slight valley of her stomach. My ice queen’s navel becomes an upright oval as she arches her body for more of my touch.
“But this,” I murmur, sliding over the miniature ribbon decorating the top of her underwear. I run my pinkie down barely-there flowers covering the small dark triangle that tempts me below. “It’s my first time seeing nun panties, and I could never have imagined the perfection they could be.”
Sunniva is a reader, a lover of everything beautifully written no matter the genre.
As an author, she pens flawed characters and seeks the flip side where the soul hides. Once there, Sunniva wants to be pulled out of her comfort zone by stories taking on a life of their own.
She has written paranormal and young adult. She’s done contemporary romance verging on erotica and dabbled in supernatural mystery. But Sunniva’s heart is rooted in new adult of the true kind: young adult all grown up, with conflicts and passions that are familiar to college-aged readers and us who remember those days like they happened last night.
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Rose B. Mashal
(The Colorblind Trilogy, #3)
Publication date: November 11th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance
“Royalty is a dirty game.” That’s what he’d once told her, but she couldn’t imagine how dirty it could really get.
Blessed now more than ever, Marie’s love for Mazen continues to grow, and with it, her worries and doubts, as well.
Just as they think that all of the past drama could be left behind, an enemy starts plotting revenge and ways to break them apart, forcing Marie into facing her worst fears.
With everything around her threatening her happiness, along with the well-being of the ones she loves the most, is there a limit to what Marie will do to protect them from certain danger? There might be none.
Because when it comes to love, pain can be bearable and chains become breakable.
The smell of death saturated the air, assaulting my nose and filling my lungs with its unwelcome stench. With it came the horrible feeling of sickness and the fear of the unknown.
The scenario of dead people surrounding me, and others struggling as they fought for their lives wasn’t new to me, I’d seen it before. The only difference this time was that I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. No, I was a horrified, fully grown woman.
For the past few days, I trusted that everything would be okay in the end. It was the only thing that kept me going. I refused to let go. I refused to allow anxiety to start stabbing at my heart or hold my brain in its disgusting claws.
But right now, I didn’t know how to be strong anymore. I didn’t know how to keep it together while feeling this agonizing pain in my body, or this unbearable ache in my chest. Being here was much more than I could tolerate.
Screaming my heart out seemed like a pretty good idea. Something in me believed that it would give me some sort of relief. But I couldn’t do that because I didn’t know if it would mean my rescue, or if it would only bring unwanted attention to me. The kind of attention that I didn’t want.
So, I held in my screams, but I couldn’t keep my tears from flowing. They simply escaped, just like the blood that was now seeping out of my body. I had no control over either of them.
I wasn’t mad at myself for crying, no. I was proud of the strength I’d shown since I was brought here. Mazen would be proud of me as well.
Mazen… My heart sank at the memory of the last time I’d seen him. My mind replayed the image of him, his head held high, and he stood tall, his features were colder than ice, and the look in his eyes was harder than stone.
I remembered the tears I’d shed as I watched him spitting orders and shouting commands. I remembered the struggle I felt to keep breathing as I heard him making threats and promising the unthinkable.
I also remembered calling to him, and him never answering me.
I remembered exactly when my heart broke. And I recalled promising myself that I’d never show weakness ever again.
But realizing what was happening now – I knew this was probably the end. There was no point in not showing weakness, no point in being strong; nor there was a point in keeping it together.
At the top of my lungs.
My scream declared all of what I was feeling during the past days – the hurt, the pain, the fear, the worry, the shame, and the broken heart.
All it earned me was a split second of relief. I knew very well that it could be heard beyond those doors. I knew it could be the cry of the prey, which made it easier for attackers to locate it.
It couldn’t be undone, and I didn’t have it in me to regret it. I was ready to meet my fate.
Rose is a loved mother, wife, and a stay at home lawyer. Writing is her passion, and reading is her obsession. Music is her best friend and sarcasm is her speaking trend. One of her joys is bringing happiness to others and her biggest wish is that they stay true to one another. Through her stories, she wants to spread nothing except understanding, peace and love.
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Mabelle Maxwell is a sarcastic introvert who is focused on making a name for herself in her beloved comic book community.
Nolan Cross is a headstrong country boy who insists the only thing he needs in life is to work his very own piece of land.
When a mutually beneficial arrangement presents itself, neither can resist, even if it means temporarily living under the same roof.
Mabelle knows better than to fall for a smooth talking cowboy.
Nolan has never been one to back down from a challenge.
In the small southern town of Wild Peach, country is more than just a state of mind. It’s a way of life and sometimes, listening to your heart can turn everything inside out.
About the Book
by M. Sembera
Inside Out Novella
November 7, 2017
About M. Sembera
Born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, I now live in Brazoria, Texas with My Husband, Three Kids, Three Dogs and Two Cats. I wrote my first short story when I was in high school and instantly fell in love with writing. However, life sometimes gets in the way of aspirations and it wasn’t until years later, when my life calmed down, I was able to start writing again.
For me, each new book I write or character I create feels like the first time and I find myself falling in love with writing all over again.
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This Piece of Our Being
Robyn M. Ryan
(Clearing the Ice, #3)
Publication date: December 5th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports
She no longer believes that love conquers all.
He questions his convictions.
Alone, each faces an uncertain future.
Fate has other ideas.
Just as Fate placed their lives on a collision course five years ago, Andrew and Caryn Chadwick’s paths cross once again in Toronto after a four-month separation. Despite Andrew’s assurances that he wants to repair their marriage, Caryn is wary, not certain she can trust him, and struggles with doubts and questions about his relationship with a member of his Rehab Team. Wracked with guilt, Andrew questions his determination to return to the Tampa Suns hockey team, and he seeks to convince Caryn their marriage will survive.
Fate intervenes with a gift at the worst possible moment.
Caryn can hide this secret for only a short time, but is Andrew capable of pushing his needs aside when he discovers the truth? Can she risk her heart and soul once again? This Piece of Our Being follows Andrew’s and Caryn’s journeys through a fragile reconciliation. Both vow to place honesty at the center of their future. But, will the secrets revealed heal their marriage or drive them further apart?
The conclusion to the Clearing the Ice trilogy, This Piece of Our Being delivers Andrew and Caryn’s Happily Ever After, but the path to reconciliation is rocky and missteps prove costly.
**Please note: For your best enjoyment please be sure to read THIS OF MY HEART and THIS PIECE OF MY SOUL before this book. Check your favorite ebook site for special offers on the first two books in the series during THIS PIECE OF OUR BEING’s preorder period.**
PRE-ORDER SPECIAL—Just .99 through December 5 release
SPECIAL—Buy the first book in the series, This Piece of My Heart, for just .99 (Save $2.00)
On her last day in Toronto, Caryn wandered around the university campus. She had always loved summer on campus and happy memories crowded her mind. She stopped for a strawberry cream frappuccino at the coffee shop where her study group had met two-to-three evenings a week every school year. She smiled as she looked at “their table” where some summer students sat, textbooks open, chatting and taking notes on their devices. The tradition continues.
Caryn walked to the large grassy area, her favorite section of the campus. The sun felt delicious on her face, and she looked for a spot to sit. She leaned her head back and allowed a smile to spread across her face. I’m having a baby! Just for this moment, this very second, I’m happy. No worries about the future. No what-ifs. No second-guessing. I’m having a baby, and I am ecstatic!
She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top. In that moment, she could imagine celebrating the moment with Drew. She closed her eyes and imagined him laughing as he lifted her off her feet and swung her around in a circle, his blue eyes never leaving hers. A special romantic dinner poolside, stars shining above the lanai. Holding hands as they ate, planning the future, picking the bedroom they’d convert into the nursery, speculating whether the crib would hold their son or daughter. And choosing names! So many to consider. So many dreams. If only…
Caryn brushed both hands across her face when she felt the tears. Of course, that’s not my reality. Not now. And maybe never. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. You’re strong. No matter what happens, everything will work out. This beautiful child will know love from both parents…even if we live separately.
She sensed a presence beside her and began to scoot to her feet to stand and walk away, but then she suddenly knew. “Why are you here? How did you know?”
Drew’s voice was soft. “I didn’t. I just flew up with Tom. Dan told me to take some time to recharge. Spend some time with my parents. Tom dropped me at the townhouse just now. When I walked inside, I realized you were here.” She felt him drop to the grass beside her. “I had a hunch I might find you somewhere on campus.”
From the corner of her eye, she could tell he was about to reach for her hand.
“Don’t,” she begged softly. “Please.”
“Can we talk?”
“I can’t look at you right now.”
He was silent for a moment. “Okay, how about this.” He shifted until they were back-to-back. “Better?”
Caryn nodded without speaking and pulled her knees back up against her chest. She waited for Andrew to speak and heard him sigh.
“Are you going to Tampa when you leave here?” His voice was soft.
“Do you think we could sit down and talk?”
“You mean, like last time?” Caryn’s temper flared. “I’m not doing that again, Andrew.”
“I don’t want that either.” Andrew was quiet for a long moment. “I’m hoping we can work things out. I understand if you don’t want to see or talk with me right now. But, can we figure this—us—out sometime when we’re in the same city?”
“Do you believe I had nothing to do with my father calling you?” Caryn challenged.
“None of that matters, Caryn. Whether or not I ever play hockey again—it means nothing if there’s no us. It’s taken me too long to figure that out. I want to ask—make that beg—for the chance to talk with you. I’ve called Lauren, spoken with Kelly and Terri. No one could—or would—tell me where you were.”
“Only Lauren knows.”
“I get that I’m not her favorite person at the moment.”
Caryn bit back a short laugh. “You didn’t answer my question, Andrew. Do you believe I told you the truth about my father? Or am I still guilty by default?”
“Could I answer that face-to-face? I want to look you in the eyes.” He paused a moment. “Is that possible?”
Caryn sighed as she relaxed a bit, leaning back against him. “I can’t do this here. Not in this place, this spot.”
“Then, could you come with me to the townhouse? We can talk there. Please, Cary?”
Caryn leaned her head back, resting it against his neck. She felt that if she looked at him, she’d break, shatter into a million pieces. And if that happened, she wasn’t sure she could put herself back together. “Andrew, do you honestly want to work things out?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Is it even possible?”
“Cary, we can find a way to work things out. Trust me.”
She shut her eyes against the hot tears that threatened and then pressed her face against her hands. “Somehow ‘trust me’ is not especially reassuring, Drew.”
“Walk with me? Just to the townhouse?”
Caryn nodded, but still did not look at him. Andrew held out his hand as he stood, and after a beat, Caryn stretched her hand toward his. He gently pulled her to her feet and then grasped her hand securely when she started to pull away. Caryn took a deep breath as she walked beside him, looking straight ahead as they navigated the campus.
Caryn concentrated on slow, steady, deep breaths, calming her nerves, trying to process Andrew’s sudden appearance after so many weeks. In Toronto, of all places, her refuge. She could not think beyond the next step, the next moment.
They entered the townhouse silently, and Caryn’s gaze immediately focused on Andrew’s luggage just inside the doorway.
“I’ll take that over to my parents,” Andrew said. “Like I said, I didn’t know you were here until I walked in.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have a flight this evening.” Caryn headed for the stairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As she passed the night table in the loft bedroom, she grabbed a bottle of water and her saltines before stepping into the bathroom. After she shut the door, she nibbled on a cracker and took a drink of water, then looked at herself in the mirror. Besides the reddened eyes that were slightly swollen, she appeared normal. Caryn splashed cold water on her face and took a deep breath.
She dropped the pack of saltines into her carry-on and zipped it shut. Everything was packed and ready to go. She’d planned to strip the bed, but decided to leave it alone. She took a moment to straighten the sheets and tuck the comforter under the pillows. Drew can change it if he decides to stay. If not, I’ll be back soon. She looked around a final time, then after taking a deep breath, picked up her carry-on and walked reluctantly down the stairs.
Andrew waited in the kitchen, staring out the window at the courtyard. Any other year, we’d be here right now, home for the summer. Wonder if that’s why Caryn’s here? Am I running her off by showing up today? Something else I fucked up? He heard her footsteps on the stairs and returned to the living room in time to see her set her carry-on bag near the door.
“You’re not leaving because of me, Cary?”
She shook her head. “I made the reservations last week. I completed my meetings and I’m good to go.” She turned to face him then, and Andrew saw the wariness in her amber eyes. Those eyes that enchanted him with their sparkle now looked dull. Depression? Exhaustion? A breath caught in his chest when he realized her eyes held no hope.
Caryn walked to the side chair and sat down, and Andrew perched on the edge of the sofa closest to her. He reached for her hand, his eyes asking permission, and Caryn nodded. He closed his hand around hers, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. She met his gaze expectantly.
“I love you, Cary. My feelings have never changed.”
“Why say that now? Suddenly, you believe I did not ask anyone to call my father?” Her eyes pierced his, not blinking.
He leaned toward her. “I think I’ve always known…deep inside…that you’d never make that call. I was too self-absorbed to admit it.”
Caryn waved her free hand between them. “So all this, between us, was…?”
“Entirely my fault—as Tom not so subtly pointed out to me.”
“What did Tom say?”
“‘Fool,’ ‘jerk,’ and ‘stupid’ were among the operative words. Plus ‘selfish,’ ‘inconsiderate,’ and ‘idiot.’ That’s about the gist of it, minus the rather blunt adjectives he used with each of those words.”
Caryn tried to suppress a giggle. “Wish I could have heard it.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to give you an instant replay.” Andrew smiled when he saw a hint of sparkle return to her eyes. “All that aside, I was wrong in more ways that I can count. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for the chance to make things right between us.”
Caryn’s eyes filled with sudden tears, and she pulled back as he reached to touch her cheek. She shook her head again when he started to speak and impatiently brushed aside the tears that had escaped. “Andrew, how do we…?”
He answered before she could finish the question. “Cary, all I know right now is that I love you and I want to be with you. If you’ll give me the chance, we will work everything out.”
Caryn shut her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath to calm her emotions, determined not to think beyond the present moment as her brain struggled to process Andrew’s words. I want to believe that things can be different this time, that what he says is possible. But what if…What if we can’t work things out?
He didn’t believe her last April, and his betrayal, his lack of trust, still stung. Her stomach contracted suddenly and the nausea rose in her throat. She stood abruptly, shaking her head at the question on his lips.
She barely made it to the bathroom, the nausea getting the best of her as it had so often over the weeks. She leaned weakly against the door as she stood, closing her eyes until the dizziness passed. She splashed more cold water on her face and filled a cup with water to rinse her mouth. She opened the door, Andrew nearby, concern evident on his face.
“You all right?”
Caryn nodded, but didn’t speak as he led her to the kitchen table. Andrew pulled a chair back for her to sit, then opened the refrigerator and grabbed the Coke he hoped to find. He pulled a chair facing hers, opened the bottle, and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she whispered before she took a sip. When she looked at him, the apprehension was obvious in his eyes.
“Have you been sick?”
“No, I’m just overwhelmed. About everything.” She set the bottle on the table, taking another deep breath. “There’s so much we need to discuss.”
“Stay for a few days longer, Caryn. I’ll stay at my parents…we’ll have time to be alone and talk, right here in Toronto—our true home. What better place to begin to work things out?”
Andrew waited for Caryn to respond. When she finally met his eyes, he read the longing, the confusion, the anxiety, and the indecision in the eyes he knew so well. The last thing he wanted to do was to add to the obvious stress she was feeling. He tentatively reached out to brush his fingers against her forehead. “Do you have to get back to Tampa?” He gave her an out.
“I’ve put so much work off on Lauren.” Caryn’s voice was hesitant.
“I can fly back to Tampa with you.”
She shook her head. “No, you can’t.” Her voice was firm. “You need to spend time with your parents…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “I really do have work I need to complete for new clients.”
“Could you possibly handle the work from here?” Andrew was careful not to push.
Caryn looked at her hands. “I need time to process this. I wasn’t expecting to see you, hear you say you believe me.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“Drew, I believed in us. I never dreamed you’d give up on our love so easily. I trusted you.” She blinked back the hot tears that threatened. “I convinced myself that happiness is overrated.” She met his gaze evenly.
Andrew closed his eyes briefly as he shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. “I have no right to ask you to trust me. I realize that.” He gently brushed aside the single tear that escaped her eyes.
“You said you needed to concentrate everything on your recovery. What changed?”
“I’ve realized it doesn’t have to be a choice between one or the other. There’s room for both. I needed to get my priorities straight.”
“I pray every day that you will recover one hundred percent. I want you back on the ice, playing with the Suns, just as strong as you were before.”
“Maybe that doesn’t matter so much anymore.”
Caryn held up her hand. “Don’t! Do not say that. Do not tell me it doesn’t matter, that it’s been for nothing.” Her voice shook with anger. “If you don’t keep working for your recovery…” She shook her head. “That would be the worst thing of all.” She pushed back her chair to stand, but Andrew stood and grasped her arms before she could walk away.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Play hockey again.”
“I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, Caryn. There’s no guarantee.”
“I want what we had before you were hurt.” She reached to touch his lips to silence his protest. “I want us to be us again. And that includes your playing hockey, hopefully a long time with the Suns.”
“There’s no guarantee I’ll ever play again.” She met his eyes and he continued quietly. “I still don’t pass that ImPACT baseline.” He shrugged. “I could think I’m ready to play, but if I don’t pass that test…”
“You will. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”
Andrew’s smile was wry. “Now you sound like my brother.” He gently brushed the hair away from her forehead. “So, in the meantime…where do we go from here? What do you want me to do? What do you want to do?” Caryn hesitated, and he continued, “Look, I know I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can expect you to trust me. And I know I don’t deserve to ask…”
She silenced him by putting her hand against his cheek. “Andrew, I can’t do this again if things don’t work out.”
“What could stop us from working through this?”
“I might not be able to watch you play,” Caryn said quietly. “I still get flashbacks of that night. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to watch you play again.”
“Cary, that will never be a problem,” he said. He didn’t remember much from the accident that almost killed him, but she’d watched it all: his helmet flying off, the puck striking his head at full force, him lying motionless on the ice, the hours waiting to see if he’d survive surgery, the days spent wondering if he’d ever wake up. “I promise I will understand.”
Caryn was silent for several minutes, then reached for her Coke and took another sip. “I’ve never doubted you’ll play hockey again.”
Andrew laughed without humor. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve asked myself what I would do if I couldn’t play hockey again. I know I was wrong to push you aside.”
“Why didn’t you call me or tell me?” Caryn’s eyes held his steadily. “I believed what you’d said—that our marriage couldn’t continue until you totally recovered.”
“I convinced myself I didn’t want to risk hurting you any more than I had.” Andrew’s eyes left hers for a moment as he searched for the right words. “I knew I was wrong when I asked you to stay away…and then, I just watched you walk away.” Andrew shook his head. “I hope someday you can forgive me.”
“I already have.” Caryn reached to place her palm against his cheek. “There are a lot of things we need to talk about, but not today. You need to spend time with your parents. I need to get back to Tampa and take care of my clients. Think. Process everything you’ve said today.”
“I’ll be back in Tampa next week. Do you think we can start then?”
Andrew’s hand covered hers as she looked at him, searching his face. She saw the pain of regret mixed with a cautious optimism. She prayed she’d find the answer she sought in the intensity of his blue eyes—the same eyes that had captured her heart and had promised her a piece of his soul. A sensation rippled through her chest…a flutter of hope? Am I willing to open my heart? Risk believing in our future again? She smiled softly as she slipped her hand behind his neck and urged his lips towards her. In the kiss, tender at first and then quickly deepening, she found the answers.
There’s truly only one response, one leap of faith to chance. She pulled back and met his gaze before she stepped into the welcoming arms that closed securely around her. She nodded against his chest, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes, I’d like that, Drew…more than anything.”
By the time she was an eight-year-old tomboy growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, Robyn M. Ryan definitely knew what she wanted to do when she grew up—play major league baseball or write. She wrote throughout elementary and high school, first composing novels featuring favorite TV and music personalities, and then venturing into sports writing.
Attending UGA’s journalism school launched her career in public relations, which included an internship with the Atlanta Flames NHL hockey team. This Piece of My Heart, a hockey romance, and the first book in Robyn’s hockey trilogy Clearing the Ice was published May 2016. The second book in the series, This Piece of My Soul, was published January, 2017, and the final book, This Piece of Our Soul concludes the trilogy with a December, 2017 release.
Besides writing, Robyn’s passions include following the New York Rangers, NASCAR, and the Atlanta Braves; splitting time between homes in Atlanta and Palm Coast, and visiting Paris as often as possible. Two brilliant Westies rule both homes.
As do many writers, Robyn chooses to write using a pseudonym—hers is a combination of her sons’ names, a contribution from her youngest nephew.
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Title: Angel Series Box Set #1 – 2.5
Author: Tracy Lorraine
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Molly: Part One & Two:
Falling in love with your best friend is never going to be straightforward. But when is the right time to confess your feelings?
After suffering a devastating loss Molly seeks solace in Ryan knowing nothing will ever happen between them. But when she gets screwed over by her boyfriend Molly finds herself living in Ryan’s spare bedroom. Things start to change for Molly immediately but she knows she can’t risk admitting her feelings for Ryan because it could result in losing everyone else she loves. She’s already lost too much.
Ryan thought his life was all planned out with his perfect woman until the unthinkable happened. Spending time with Molly, who was dealing with the same heartache, helps him come to terms with the sudden change in his life. When Ryan offers Molly his spare room he doesn’t expect to instantly start seeing her differently. Can he put his feelings aside to spare others or will his attraction to her be too strong to deny?
It was lust at first sight when Abbi laid eyes on inches of perfect inked up skin last summer. She had a weakness for bad boys who were great at breaking her bed but even better at breaking her heart. She was trying to break the cycle and date the nice guys but they left something to be desired.
Abbi has spent her whole adult life dealing with the aftermath of an event that happened to her as a teenager. Will her inner demons be enough to put an end to her new relationship before it has really started?
She never could’ve imagined that this stranger’s bad boy appearances were just that and what was on the inside was the romantic and passionate man she had been looking for.
Jax wants nothing more than to settle down with a woman he loves. Unfortunately his looks have meant that he attracts the wrong type of women who don’t take his commitment seriously.
He unexpectedly meets a blonde bombshell at his friend’s house that instantly takes his breath away, could she be the one he has been waiting for and could she help him banish the ghosts of his past?
Deciding it’s time to move on after the devastating loss of her twin sister, Emma starts a new life in a new village. What she doesn’t expect is that Connie, the quirky café owner where she has spent so much time, will become her new best friend, and that her Connie’s brother will spark something inside her that she didn’t ever think could be uncovered.
Will Emma be able to overcome her fear of loss and her lack of self-confidence to be able to let him in or will she push away the only man that’s ever made her feel alive?
Ruben has spent the last six months travelling Australia. After witnessing the pain of a broken heart Ruben made the decision that he was never going let a woman in, he was content with letting them warm his bed and nothing more. That is until a photograph appears on his phone and a pair of light blue eyes and a curvy body knock him on his arse.
Will he be able to put aside his fear of losing himself to a woman to fight for the one thing he wants more than anything and accept that his future isn’t what he thought he wanted?
Connie has been hiding her true feelings for years. She has first hand experience of what acting on those feelings does for the ones she loves so she tries her best to keep them locked up tight.
Connie is a strong young woman. She has a successful business, an amazing family and now a great best friend. There is something missing though and no matter what she does she can’t put him behind her.
Fin’s jack the lad persona is helping him to hide a lot of secrets. His friends think they know all there is to know about him but they are very wrong. Fin has become the master at hiding his pain and struggles.
Fin has one weakness though, he always has, but he knows she’s something he shouldn’t be allowing himself to have.
Can Fin face up to the secrets he’s hiding and at last allow the people that love him in to .
Tracy Lorraine is a M/F and M/M contemporary romance author. Tracy has recently
turned thirty and lives in a cute Cotswold village in England with her husband, baby
girl and lovable but slightly crazy dog. Having always been a bookaholic with her
head stuck in her Kindle Tracy decided to try her hand at a story idea she dreamt up and hasn’t looked back since.
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Murder Feels Bad
(Empath Detective, #2)
Publication date: October 24th 2017
Genres: Mystery, New Adult
He can feel people’s emotions. And murderers feel super bad.
Mark Falcon, an aspiring detective and (for now) reluctant web developer, has a secret. He can “vibe” other people’s emotions. And when a wedding gets crashed by a seeming suicide, Mark vibes that there’s one aloof groomsman who wasn’t surprised at the death. Problem is, this guy’s also the only current lead for Mark’s website business. And both Mark and I (his trusty sidekick/housemate) are dead broke.
Then, we get our first-ever real detective client … and she’s afraid the wedding killer wants to kill her next.
Exciting, right? Except her reason sounds … delusional. But Mark does vibe that she’s in real danger. Also, she’s super hot. And possibly into me…
Meanwhile, the cops tell us to back off the whole thing, or else. Even when more people in our small Virginia town start dying.
With the cops threatening jail (again), quirky locals turning lethal, and a spiritual crisis on my part which has really bad timing, Mark and I are racing to catch a killer who seems ready to murder anyone…
Murder Feels Bad is the second novel in the Empath Detective mystery series, a new cozy mystery series that totally really happened, but is officially fiction. If you like Janet Evanovich, M. C. Beaton, Deb Baker, and long lists of famous author names, you’ll love this new series that has it all — amateur detectives you’ll love, zany small-town characters, sparkling wit, and a cold-blooded killer you’ll never even suspect.
… But you do at least know about the empathy thing, right?
Okay. Super fast, so we don’t bore all the organized readers … my friend, housemate/landlord, and sidekickee Mark Falcon (I’m the sidekick) is the world’s one and only legit empath detective.
He can feel other people’s emotions. Even when he doesn’t want to.
Which is crazy awesome, but on top of that, Mark has chosen to use this superpower to fight crime, vibing the innermost secrets of real-deal murderers and bringing them to justice. So far we’ve been at it for a solid month.
And there were these two suspects, Dr. Jivanta Kistna and, um, this other guy I won’t name in case you didn’t read Book 1 (Murder Feels Awful) yet, and they did a bunch of crazy stuff I can’t tell you about here but the upshot was, they decided to get married.
Like, right away. I don’t know how they pulled that off, since Jivanta’s family turned out to be Catholic and I thought they had rules about that. I think Jivanta wanted to get the wedding in while the Blue Ridge Mountains were still at Peak Autumn Gorgeous.
In a good year, the view out here in rural Virginia is continuously breathtaking. You can’t even (for instance) be running late for a wedding without a lush distant backdrop of mountainous fall foliage, serene in every direction.
Unfortunately, if you are running late for that wedding, the fantastic scenery on a crisp sunny morning just seems wildly inappropriate, even sinister…
[Mark, Pete (the narrator), and Pete’s plus-one, his nurse friend Ceci, barely make it to the wedding on time…]
We grabbed a pew, just as the music fired up and the first awkward couple started the long march.
I didn’t know any of these people, but Ceci was craning to see the entire wedding party with endless enthusiasm. She’d probably know half of them by the end of the reception.
I caught her eye and grinned. She grinned back, sparkling and happy.
Then Jivanta made her entrance.
I hadn’t seen Jivanta since the “suspect party”, weeks ago. Even in civilian clothes, Jivanta’s eyes and smile can induce a mind-altering state. Now, maxed out in makeup and a bridal gown…
… I kind of blissed out.
Except the bliss was steeped with pain, because how could I ever really have a woman like that?
When my trance faded, Ceci was staring ahead, obviously hurt.
I gave an inward sigh. Even though we were totally here as friends, it couldn’t feel great to have your dude gawking at another woman … especially the bride. I realized I’d have to show some finesse here. Not only is Ceci one of my best friends, but I’d been racking up karmic debt to her like crazy, especially lately. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel bad.
I leaned toward her to whisper some smooth reassurance.
Oops. Wrong sight line.
Because in the next pew over, the hottest blonde I’d seen in months stood alone.
She didn’t just stand, she had that curvy lean thing going on, relaxing on one black-hosed leg, where a woman has so much pent-up curvaceous goodness in so many ways that she can’t even stand up straight, she has to slow burn in a sinuous stance of sensuality.
Even as I looked, she turned right toward me, locked my gaze in her own mascara-ringed infinities, and smiled. At me.
And I thought I’d been blissing over Jivanta.
I startled, panicking that I’d been caught again. “What?” I whispered.
“Female emergency,” Ceci hissed.
“What is it?” I whispered. “You can tell me.”
“No I can’t,” she snapped. “Save my seat.”
She slipped out and clacked away down the aisle. She always wobbles a little on those unfamiliar high heels.
With Ceci gone, the pull of the blonde amped up like crazy. I was terrified to look back, terrified not to look back. At the front of the church, the wedding had already begun, but I was in another world entirely.
Beside me, Mark grunted. “Seriously, Pete? Now?”
Have I mentioned that Mark and I have this weird connection? And it’s getting worse. I wouldn’t mind so much if I could vibe his thoughts once in awhile.
“Dude,” I whispered. “Look at her.”
Mark flicked her a glance. “So?”
“So?” I said. “Can you see if she likes me?”
“WHAT?” he snapped. “Did you not hear anything last night from my Akina disaster?”
Oh right. The night before, we’d stayed up too late doing this whole interview thing that turned into a novella. Like, literally, it’s a novella now, you can read it. And it’s free, it’s a mailing-list-only thing — but don’t go get it now if you haven’t read it, I’ll put the link at the end.
All you need to know here is that in Mark’s distant past, trying to vibe whether women liked him had led to, um … problems.
“That was different!” I said.
“Sure it’s different,” he said. “You’re fricking here with Ceci.”
“As a friend! And I’m not going to ignore Ceci, I could just get the girl’s number—”
“No! Besides, I’ve got my shields maxed out.”
You remember shields, right? In theory, an empath can reduce the constant emotional onslaught by visualizing some kind of shield. A castle wall, a glowing force field, whatever. But it takes a lot of concentration, and it’s not super reliable, especially (apparently) at keeping out me.
“Why would you have your shields up?” I said. “It’s a wedding!”
“Are you kidding? Weddings are worse than funerals. Every woman’s comparing herself to the bride, every dude’s wishing he could have the bride—”
“Okay, okay, TMI!” I said. “But can’t you just do a quick check? It’ll only take a minute.”
“If you don’t, I’ll just be wondering the whole time.”
Mark eyed me. “You’re going to regret this,” he muttered. “At least try to calm down, you’re causing major interference.”
He closed his eyes and looked focused.
I strained to be calm. I tried to focus anywhere but the woman … anywhere at all…
The priest at the front was super young. He was cracking awkward jokes about him being a new priest and this being his first wedding, and hoping he could say the same for Jivanta and the groom. That one didn’t land so well.
I was trying so hard not to look at Mark and guess what he was reading.
Then he gasped.
And not just any gasp. The kind that made the skin of my neck start to crawl.
I looked. He was darting gazes in every direction like a bloodhound.
“What is it?” I whispered. “Does she secretly hate me?”
“It’s not her,” he snapped. His eyes narrowed. “Something is very wrong.”
The priest made another awkward stab at humor, how he was pretty sure he was more nervous than the bride and groom. He’d woken up that morning praying nothing would go wrong—
Everyone in the entire church jolted. What the hell was that?
The bell. The bell in the old tower was booming, blasting through the church like an air raid siren.
The priest’s smooth face creased with anxiety.
Mark shoved out of the pew and ran for the back. I stumbled after him, my heart thudding.
As we rushed into the lobby, a piercing wail shrieked beneath the bell.
It was a kid, howling.
And beneath that, a new yell of pain was stabbing us, a woman crying for help.
We followed the cries and burst through a side door into an old brick hallway that led to the tower. We nearly collided with the fat, familiar woman I’d seen before, who was still clutching the cute toddler. Both their faces were distorted with terror. The woman was fleeing, and the girl was squirming frantic against her, trying to escape even faster, mashing her mother’s shoulder with some old holy card. Even in that moment, I noted that the card had a delicate border of lace. It was getting crushed.
Then I saw behind them.
The frayed end of a thick rope lay on the old brick floor like the rattle of a snake. The rope wound back to what was left of a woman.
I could only look for a split second.
The body was crushed and obscene, like a broken deer on the side of the road, the red half-eaten carcass stretched across the asphalt. Except this was much worse.
Revulsion clenched me. I could already feel the doom of my future nightmares. I had to look somewhere, anywhere else. I looked up.
High in the tower, in the dizzy upper darkness, the broken rope dangled. The bell was still ringing from the force of the body’s release…
You know how you keep reading piles and piles and piles of mystery series, and most of them are, like, moderately okay … at least, there weren’t too many typos … and your eyes aren’t actually bleeding …
… but then … THEN … every so often … WOW, you’re just smitten.
The style is fabulous, the people are hilarious, the action is fantastic and terrifying and gut-wrenching and you just want to shout, THIS! This right here! Why can’t they all be like THIS?
The next time you find a series like that, could you PLEASE TELL ME?
I mean, please tell this Bill Alive author guy?
Because otherwise, he’s just going to keep trying to write them.
Which is super fun. See that smile? He’s clearly enjoying himself.
But still. Once in awhile, the guy needs to see how it’s done. What’s your favorite series? He’ll probably love it too.
Mark Falcon, the Empath Detective, may be able to sense people’s emotions, but the rest of us need a little help. If you win this giveaway, you’ll not only get paperback editions of all Mark’s detective adventures so far (including his prequel novella, ORIGIN STORY, which you can’t even BUY in print, because it’s only a gift ebook for my email list friends) … you’ll also get the technology to BE an empath yourself! I refer, of course, to … MOOD RINGS!
According to the happy Amazon reviews, this mood ring actually DOES CHANGE COLOR! (And does NOT turn your finger green! ) These are nice. Plus, you’ll get TWO rings … the possibilities are endless … you and your significant other could start to feel a whole new connection … or, alternatively, you could “gift” a ring to a particularly inscrutable colleague … or crush …
The rings will be available in size 7, 8, or 9 — just let me know which size you want for each of your two rings. Man, I wish I could enter this contest myself…
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(The Urban Legends Series)
Publication date: October 24th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Supernatural, Thriller
Black eyes. No emotion. No sympathy. Only emptiness.
Piper McAdams’s life was normal. Career? Check. Boyfriend? Check. Friends? Check. One unsettling run in with a homeless man turns everything from normal to terrifying. She begins seeing…things.
Things she can’t seem to explain or make any sense.
As if things aren’t already getting out of hand, Piper receives news that the only family member she has is dead. She thinks maybe a trip across the country to her hometown will get her away from all the strange events happening.
After a late night accident, Piper isn’t in her hometown burying her loved one. She’s in a town called Hell. All she wants to do is leave, but the people seem to be holding her there for some reason.
A reason she feels threatens her life. Around every corner things become darker and scarier.
Can she escape what is coming for her?
I took the steps two at a time, not caring how unstable they appeared. At the top, I stopped dead in my tracks. The platforms were vacant. The bones had turned to an old off-white color; maggots crawled in between them and fell to the floor. Low growls from above made the hair all over my body stand on end. The creatures once standing on the platforms were poised, ready for attack, as they perched along the walls near the ceiling. A jolt of pain in my head, made me squint and take a step back. I opened my eyes to find they’d returned to the platforms. I blinked erratically, feeling confused. I wasn’t waiting around to see if they changed again. No way.
I flung the door open, hoping the birds had decided to move on. They shrieked from the branches above. But that wasn’t what worried me. Beside each grave stood a child. They didn’t move. Not a single inch. They only stood there … staring. I had nowhere to go. I was surrounded.
A bird landed at the foot of the steps, and I gasped.
Its black feathers were gone, leaving only skin. Its head cocked as beady red eyes ran the length of my body before opening its mouth. There was no beak. The mouth opened to the sides, exposing row after row of jagged teeth. All at once, the children raised an arm and pointed at me, their solid black eyes never blinking.
I tore down the steps, jumping over the hideous, deformed bird. Running was my only chance. I couldn’t stand there and wait for them or something inside that building to decide it wanted me. The ground rocked beneath my feet as another pain surged in my head. The warm liquid poured from my nose again. It dripped over my lip. I looked up, and the graveyard was empty. Swiftly, I turned toward the trees to see the birds were back to normal. I was almost out. Just a few more feet, and I would be back in the woods. The ground began to moisten, making the surface slick. I trudged through, my feet making a sloshing sound.
At the last row of graves, the ground was covered in blood. One tombstone in the middle had it dripping down the front. I stopped and dropped to my knees. I wasn’t sure why. My better judgment told me to keep running, but I couldn’t. Some invisible force wouldn’t let me.
R. S. Broadhead lives in Jackson, Alabama with her husband of ten years, their two little girls, and a pug named Wednesday Love the Duchess, or Winnie for short. She has a bachelor’s in psychology and a master’s in business administration. She loves to snowboard, travel (Australia is her favorite place so far), and dance (not professionally, just whenever she feels like it). When she was sixteen-years-old, her and her friends would take pictures and make up funny stories about them. Fourteen years later, UNVEILED was born. UNVEILED, her first novel, is the first book in a four book series.
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