Julie Kenner's Blog, page 46
December 31, 2014
Have you pre-ordered Say My Name (Stark International, book 1)? Read on for an excerpt!
I just finished reviewing the page proofs for SAY MY NAME by J. Kenner, which is the first book in my new Stark International series which takes place in and around the corporate world that Damien Stark built.
Read on for Chapter One, below!
And can I just say that I’m so happy with the way this book turned out? It’s always a good sign when you get caught up in the story again and forget to actually be on the look-out for typos … and when you cry! This is the first book featuring Jackson Steele and Sylvia Brooks (Damien’s assistant from the Stark Trilogy!)
You can pre-order here:
Amazon/Kindle http://amzn.to/1rf9aTO
AmazonUK http://amzn.to/1t6MREZ
B&N/Nook http://bit.ly/113hekR
Books-A-Million http://bit.ly/1Eg63Ug
iBooks http://bit.ly/1EleqPk
IndieBound http://bit.ly/1yXRiGk
Google Play http://bit.ly/1zk23PR
Chapter 1
The thwump-thwump of the helicopter’s rotors fills my head like a whisper, a secret message that I cannot escape. Not him, not now. Not him, not now.
But I know damn well that my plea is futile, my words flat. I can’t run. I can’t hide. I can only continue as I am—hurtling at over a hundred miles per hour on a collision course with a destiny I thought I had escaped five years ago. And with the man I’d left behind.
A man I tell myself I no longer want—but can’t deny that I desperately need.
I clutch my fingers tighter around the copy of Architectural Digest in my lap. I do not need to look down to see the man on the cover. He is as vivid in my mind today as he was back then. His hair a glossy black, with just the slightest hint of copper when the sun hits it just so. His eyes so blue and deep you could drown in them.
On the magazine, he sits casually on the corner of a desk, his dark gray trousers perfectly creased. His white shirt pressed. His cuff links gleaming. Behind him, the Manhattan skyline rises, framed in a wall of glass. He exudes determination and confidence, but in my mind’s eye, I see even more.
I see sensuality and sin. Power and seduction. I see a man with his shirt collar open, his tie hanging loose. A man completely at home in his own skin, who commands a room simply by entering it.
I see the man who wanted me.
I see the man who terrified me.
Jackson Steele.
I remember the way his skin felt as it brushed mine. I even remember his scent, wood and musk and a hint of something smoky.
Most of all, I remember the way his words seduced me. The way he made me feel. And now, here above the Pacific, I can’t deny the current of excitement that runs through me, simply from the prospect of seeing him again.
And that, of course, is what scares me.
As if to emphasize that thought, the helicopter banks sharply, sending my stomach lurching. I reach out to steady myself, pressing my hand against the window as I look out at the deep indigo of the Pacific below me and the jagged Los Angeles coastline receding in the distance.
“We’re on our approach, Ms. Brooks,” the pilot says a short while later, his voice crystal clear through my headphones. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Thanks, Clark.”
I don’t like air travel, and I especially don’t like helicopters. Perhaps I have an overactive imagination, but I can’t seem to shake the mental image of dozens of absolutely essential screws and wires getting wiggled loose by the persistent motion of these constantly vibrating machines.
I’ve come to accept that I can’t avoid the occasional trip by plane or helicopter. When you work as the executive assistant to one of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful men, air travel is just part of the package. But while I’ve resigned myself to that reality—and even managed to become somewhat Zen about the whole thing—I still get all twisted up during takeoff and landing. There’s something horribly unnatural about the way the earth rises up to meet you, even while you are simultaneously careening toward the ground.
Not that I can actually see any ground. As far as I can tell, we’re still entirely over water, and I am just about to point out that little fact when a slice of the island appears in my window. My island. Just seeing it makes me smile, and I draw in one breath and then another until I actually feel reasonably calm and somewhat put together.
Of course, the island isn’t really mine. It belongs to my boss, Damien Stark. Or, more specifically, it belongs to Stark Vacation Properties, which is a division of Stark Real Estate Development, which is an arm of Stark Holdings, which is a wholly owned subsidiary of Stark International, which is one of the most profitable companies in the world, which is owned by one of the most powerful men in the world.
In my mind, though, Santa Cortez island is mine. The island, the project, and all the potential that goes with it.
Santa Cortez is one of the smaller Channel Islands that run up the coast of California. Located a little behind Catalina, it was used for many years as a naval facility, along with San Clemente . Unlike San Clemente, which is still operated by the military and sports an army base, barracks, and various other signs of civilization,Santa Cortez lacks any development at all; it was used for hand-to-hand combat and weapons training. At least, that’s what I was told. The navy is not known for being forthright about its activities.
Several months ago, I’d noticed a small article in the Los Angeles Times discussing the military’s presence in California. The article mentioned both islands, but noted that the military was ceasing operations on Santa Cortez. There wasn’t any other information, but I’d taken the article to Stark.
“It might be up for sale, and if so, I figured we should act fast,” I’d said, handing him the article. I’d just finished briefing him on his schedule for the day, and we were moving briskly down the corridor toward a conference room where no less than twelve banking executives from three different countries waited with Charles Maynard, Stark’s attorney, for the commencement of a long-planned tax and investment strategy meeting.
“I know you’ve been looking for ,” I continued, “but since we haven’t yet found a suitable island, I was thinking that in the mean-time, a high-end getaway location for families with easier access to the States might have real potential as a business model.”
He’d taken the paper, reading as he walked, and then stopped outside the conference room’s glass doors. I’d come to know his face during the five years I’d worked for him, but right then I hadn’t even an inkling what he was thinking.
He handed the article back to me, held up one finger in a silent demand for me to wait, and then stepped inside the room, addressing the men as he entered. “Gentlemen, I apologize, but something has come up. Charles, if you could take over the meeting?”
And then he was back in the corridor with me, not bothering to wait for Maynard’s reply or the executives’ acquiescence, but absolutely confident that things would go smoothly, and just the way he wanted them to.
“Call Nigel Galway at the Pentagon,” he’d said as we moved down the hall back toward his office. “He’s in my personal contacts. Tell him I’m looking to acquire the island. Then get in touch with Aiden. He’s gone to the Century City site to help Trent with some problem that’s come up during construction. Ask if he can get away long enough to meet us for lunch at The Ivy.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to find my balance. “Us?”
Aiden made sense. Aiden Ward was the vice president of Stark Real Estate Development, and was currently overseeing the construction of Stark Plaza, a trio of office buildings off Santa Monica Boulevard in Century City. What I didn’t understand was why Mr. Stark would want me at the lunch, when his usual practice was to simply fill me in after the fact on any post-meeting details that I needed to track or follow up.
“If you’re spearheading this project, it makes sense for you to be at the initial meeting.”
“Spearheading?” Honestly, my head was spinning.
“If you’re interested in real estate development, especially for commercial projects, you couldn’t ask for a better mentor than Aiden,” he said. “Of course, you’ll be pulling longer hours. I’ll still need you on my desk, but you can delegate as much as makes sense. I think Rachel would like to pick up some more hours, anyway,” he added, referring to his weekend assistant, Rachel Peters.
“Use the business plan that Trent put together for the Bahamas proposal as a model, and work up your own draft and timeline.” He glanced at his watch. “You won’t be able to finish before lunch, but you can take us through some talking points.” He met my eyes, and I saw the humor in his. “Or am I assuming too much? I thought that real estate was one of your particular interests, but if you’re not looking to shift into a managerial role—”
“No!” I practically blurt the word, my shoulders squared and my back straight. “No. I mean, yes. I mean, yes, Mr. Stark, I want to work on this project.” What I really wanted was to not hyperventilate, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was going to be possible.
“Good,” he’d said. We’d reached my desk in the reception area outside his office. “Call Trevor. Make the lunch arrangements. And we’ll go from there.”
Go from there had led in a more or less straight line directly to this moment. I’m officially the project manager for The Resort at Cortez, a Stark Vacation Property. At least I am today.
Hopefully, I’ll still be tomorrow. Because that’s the question, isn’t it? Whether the news that I received two hours ago is going to shatter the Santa Cortez project, or whether I can salvage the project along with my nascent career in real estate.
Too bad I need Jackson Steele if I’m going to pull that off.
My stomach twists unpleasantly and I tell myself not to worry. Jackson will help me. He has to, because right now everything I want is riding on him.
Considering my frayed nerves, I’m especially grateful that our landing is soft. I slide the magazine into my leather tote, then unstrap myself and wait for Clark to open the door. As soon as he does, I breathe in the fresh scent of the ocean and lift my face to the breeze. Immediately, I feel better, as if neither my worries nor my motion sickness are any match for the pure beauty of this place.
And beautiful it is. Beautiful and unspoiled, with native grasses and trees, dunes, and shell-scattered beaches.
Whatever the military had been doing here, it didn’t harm the natural habitat. In fact, the only signs of civilization are right where we’ve landed. This area sports a tarmac sufficient for two helicopters, a boat dock, a small metal building used for equipment storage, and another small building with two chemical toilets. There’s also a Bobcat, a generator, and various other bits of machinery that have been carted in so that the process of clearing the land can begin. Not to mention the two security cameras that had been mounted to satisfy both Stark International security and the insurance company.
There is a second copter beside the one that Clark set down, and beyond it is a makeshift path that leads away from this ramshackle work area to the still-wild interior of the island. And, presumably, to Damien, his wife, Nikki, and Wyatt Royce, the photographer Damien hired to take seaside portraits of his wife and also pre-development photos of the island.
While Clark remains with the bird, I follow the path. Almost immediately, I regret not taking the time to change out of my skirt and heels before making this jaunt. The ground is rocky and uneven and my shoes are going to end up scuffed and battered. I’d planned to put on jeans and hiking boots, but I’d been in a hurry, and if I can get this project back on track, then I figure my favorite navy pair of heels are a small price to pay.
The ground slopes up gently, and as I crest a small hill I find myself looking down at a sandy inlet nestled against a cluster of rocks. Waves batter the stones, sending droplets of water up to sparkle in the air like diamonds. On the beach area, I see Damien slide his arm around his wife’s waist as she leans her head upon his shoulder while they both look out at the wide expanse of the sea.
Nikki and I have become good friends, so it’s not as though I’ve never seen the two of them together. But there is something so sweetly intimate about the moment that I feel as though I should turn back and give them time alone. But I have no time to squander, and so instead I clear my throat as I continue forward.
I know of course that they won’t hear me. The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore was sufficient to drown out the helicopter’s approach; it’s certainly enough to cover my small noises.
As if to prove my point, Damien presses his lips to Nikki’s temple. Something tight twists inside me. I think of the magazine in my tote—and the image of the man on the cover. He’d kissed me the same way, and as I remember the butterfly-soft caress of his lips against my skin, I feel my eyes sting. I tell myself it’s the wind and the saltwater spray, but of course that’s not true.
It’s regret and loss. And, yes, it’s fear.
Fear that I’m about to open the door to something I desperately want, but know that I can’t handle.
Fear that I screwed up royally so many years ago.
And the cold, bitter certainty that, if I’m not very, very careful, the wall I’ve built around myself will come tumbling down, and my horrible secrets will spill out for all the world to see.
“Sylvia?”
I jump a little, startled, and realize that I have been standing there, staring blankly toward the sea, my mind far, far away. “Mr. Stark. Sorry. I—”
“Are you all right?” It’s Nikki who speaks, her expression concerned as she hurries toward me. “You look a little shaky.” She’s beside me now, and she takes my arm.
“No, I’m fine,” I lie. “Just a little motion sick from the helicopter. Where’s Wyatt?”
“He set up down the beach,” Stark says. “We thought it was best if he went ahead and got started on the shots for the brochure.”
I wince, because I am over an hour late. The plan had been for me to spend the morning in Los Angeles while Nikki, Damien, and Wyatt came early to the island. I’d arrive later, once they’d had time to complete the private portrait shoot, and I’d spend the rest of the morning working with Wyatt to capture a series of shots that we could use in the resort’s marketing materials.
Damien would pilot his copter back to the city, and then Wyatt, Nikki, and I would return with Clark. Nikki and I recently discovered that we share a love of photography and Wyatt has offered to give us some pointers after the work is finished.
“You didn’t bring your camera,” Nikki says, her forehead creasing into a frown. “Something is wrong.”
“No,” I say, then, “okay, yes. Maybe.” I meet Stark’s eyes. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll go check on Wyatt,” Nikki says.
“No, stay. I mean if Mr. Stark—if Damien—doesn’t mind.” I’m still uncomfortable calling him by his first name during working hours. But as he has repeatedly pointed out, I’ve spent a good number of hours drinking cocktails by his pool with his wife. After so many Cosmopolitans, formality when we’re alone begins to feel strained.
“Of course I don’t mind,” he says. “What’s happened?”
I take a deep breath, and spill the news I’ve been hanging on to. “Martin Glau pulled out of the project this morning.”
I see the change in Damien’s face immediately. The quick flash of shock followed by anger, then immediately replaced with steely determination. Beside him, Nikki isn’t nearly so controlled.
“Glau? But he’s been nothing but enthusiastic. Why on earth would he want to quit?”
“Not want to,” I clarify. “Has. Done. He’s gone.”
For a moment, Damien just stares at me. “Gone?”
“Apparently he’s moved to Tibet.”
Damien’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Has he?”
“He’s sold his property, shut down his firm, and told his attorney to let his clients know that he’s decided to spend the rest of his life in prayerful meditation.”
“The son of a bitch,” Damien says with the kind of contained fury I rarely see in his business dealings, though the press has made much of his temper over the years. “What the hell is he thinking?”
I understand his anger. For that matter, I share it. This is my project, and Glau has managed to screw us all. The Resort at Cortez might be a Stark property, but that doesn’t mean that it’s fully financed by Damien, or by Damien’s companies. No, we’ve worked our tails off over the last three months pulling together a who’s who of investors—and every single one of them named two reasons they were committed to the project: Glau’s reputation as an architect, and Damien’s reputation as a businessman.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “All right then, so we handle this. If his attorney is notifying clients today, the press will get wind of it soon, and everything is going to unravel fast.”
I grimace. Just the thought makes my skin feel clammy, because this project is mine. I conceived it, I pitched it, and I’ve worked my ass off to get it off the ground. It’s more than a resort to me; it’s a stepping stone to my future.
I have to keep this project alive. And, dammit, I will keep it alive. Even if that means approaching the one man I swore I would never see again.
“We need a plan in place,” I say. “A definitive course of action to present to the investors.”
Despite the situation, I see a hint of amusement in Damien’s eyes. “And you have a suggestion already. Good. Let’s hear it.”
I nod and tighten my grip on my tote bag. “The investors were impressed by Glau’s reputation and his portfolio,” I say. “But that’s not something we can replicate in another architect.” As the moving force behind some of the most impressive and innovative buildings in modern history, Glau was a bona fide starchitect—an architect with both the skill and celebrity status to ensure a project’s success.
“So I suggest we present the one man who by all accounts is poised to meet or surpass Glau’s reputation.” I reach into my bag and pull out the magazine, then pass it to Damien.
“Jackson Steele.”
“He has the experience, the style, the reputation. He’s not just a rising star in the field—with Glau out of the picture, I think it’s fair to say that he’s the new crown prince. And that’s not all. Because even more so than Glau, Steele has the kind of celebrity appeal that this project can use. The sort of publicity potential that will not only excite the investors, but will be a huge boon when we market the resort to the public.”
“Is that so?” Stark says, his voice oddly flat. I see him catch Nikki’s eyes, and can’t help but wonder at the quick look that passes between the two of them.
“Read the article,” I urge, determined to prove my point. “Not only is there a rumor that the story surrounding one of his projects is going to be adapted into a feature film, but they’ve already produced a documentary on him and that museum he did last year in Amsterdam.”
“I know,” Damien says. “It’s premiering at the Chinese theater tonight.”
“Yes,” I say eagerly. “Are you going? You could talk to him there.”
Damien’s mouth twists with what I think is irony. “Oddly enough, I wasn’t invited. It’s only on my radar because Wyatt mentioned it. He’s been hired to take the red carpet photos and some candids of the guests.”
“But that’s my point,” I press. “It’s a red carpet event. This guy has celebrity sparkle all the way. We need him on our team. And the article also says that he’s looking to open a satellite office in Los Angeles, which suggests that he’s trying to move more into the West Coast market.”
“Jackson Steele isn’t the only name in the pot,” Damien says.
“No,” I agree. “But right now he’s the only one with a serious spotlight on him. More than that, I’ve already looked into the few others who might appeal to the investors, and none have current availability. Steele does. I didn’t present Steele as a possible architect in the original development plan because he was committed for the next six months to a project in Dubai.” At the time, I’d been grateful that Jackson was unavailable because I didn’t want to be in exactly this position. Now, however, things have changed.
“The Dubai project fell through,” I continue. “Political and financial issues, I guess. It’s all outlined in the article. I did some quick research, and I don’t believe Steele has another green-lit project, but it won’t stay that way for long. Jackson Steele can save the Cortez resort. Please trust me when I tell you that I wouldn’t suggest him if I didn’t absolutely believe that.”
And wasn’t that the god’s honest truth?
“I believe it, too,” Damien says. “And I agree with your assessment of the situation. If we don’t get Jackson Steele on board right away, we’ll lose our investors. The only other way to keep the project alive is if I fully fund the project, either using corporate assets or my personal funds.” He draws in a breath. “Sylvia,” he says gently, “that’s not the way I do business.”
“I know. Of course I know that. That’s why I’m suggesting we approach Jackson. I mean Steele,” I correct, biting back a wince at my unintentional familiarity. “This is a high profile project—exactly the kind of thing that he’s focusing on these days. He’ll sign on. Everything about it is what he’s looking for.”
Once again, Damien and Nikki share a look, and worry snakes through me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “But is there something I don’t know?”
“Jackson Steele has no interest in working for Stark International,” Nikki says, after a brief hesitation.
“He—what?” It takes a moment for the words to sink in. “How do you know?”
“We met him when we were in the Bahamas,” Nikki explains. “Damien offered to bring him in on the ground floor for the Bahamas project, pulling him in even before Stark International acquired property. Full access to every detail of the project. But he made it very clear that he doesn’t want to work for Damien or any of Damien’s companies. He says that Damien casts a long shadow, and he’s not interested in being caught under it.”
“In other words, we won’t be landing Steele for this project,” Damien says. He glances at his watch, then at Nikki. “I need to get back,” he says, then returns his attention to me. “Call the investors personally. This isn’t the kind of thing I can sit on. I’m truly sorry, Syl,” Damien adds, and it’s the nickname that drives home how real this is. The project is dead. My project is dead.
I tell myself I should be relieved not to risk the memories. That I’ve been a fool to think that I have the strength to my nightmares. That I should just let this project go rather than walk right back into everything I once ran from.
No. I’ve worked too hard, and this project means too much. I can’t just let it go. Not like that. Not without a fight.
And, yes, perhaps there is a part of me that wants to see Jackson Steele again. To prove to myself that I can do this. That I can see him, talk to him, work so goddamn intimately with him—and somehow manage to not shatter under the weight of it all.
“Please,” I say to Damien, as I squeeze my hands into fists and tell myself that the staccato beat of my heart and the clamminess of my skin stem from fear of losing the project and not the thought of seeing Jackson again. “Let me talk to him. We need to at least try.”
“There will be other projects, Ms. Brooks.” His voice is gentle, but firm. “This isn’t your last opportunity.”
“I believe you,” I say. “But I’ve never known you to walk away from a floundering deal if there was any chance of saving it.”
“Based on what I know of Mr. Steele, there isn’t a chance.”
“I think there is. Please, let me try. I’m just asking for the weekend,” I rush to add. “Just enough time for me to meet with Mr. Steele and pitch the project to him.”
For a moment, Damien says nothing. Then he nods. “I can’t keep this from the investors,” he finally says. “But it’s already Friday, and we can make that work for us. Call them. Let them know we need to update them about the project, and schedule a conference call for Monday morning.”
I nod, quick and businesslike. But inside, I am jumping with glee.
“That gives you the weekend,” Damien continues. “Monday morning we’ll either announce that we have Jackson Steele on board. Or that the project is in trouble.”
“We’ll have him on board,” I say, with a confidence born more of hope than reality.
Damien’s head tilts ever so slightly to the left, as if considering my words. “What makes you think so?”
I lick my lips. “I—I met him. About five years ago in Atlanta. Right before I came to work for you, actually. I don’t know if he’ll agree, but I think he’ll at least hear me out.” At least, I thought he would before I learned that he’d already turned down a Stark project.
Now, the entire playing field has changed. Before, I’d thought I was bringing him a kick-ass project on a silver platter. Me, doing a favor for Jackson. Me, in control.
Now I know the opposite is true.
He can walk away. He can say no. He can lift his middle finger and tell me to stay the hell out of his life.
I think about the last conversation we had—a conversation that had ripped me apart.
I need you to do something for me, I’d said.
No questions, no arguments. It’s important.
Whatever you need, baby, I promise. You only have to ask.
He had kept his word then. He’d done as I asked, even though it had just about destroyed us both.
Now there is something else I need.
And I desperately hope that once again I only have to ask.
pre-order here:
Amazon/Kindle http://amzn.to/1rf9aTO
AmazonUK http://amzn.to/1t6MREZ
B&N/Nook http://bit.ly/113hekR
Books-A-Million http://bit.ly/1Eg63Ug
iBooks http://bit.ly/1EleqPk
IndieBound http://bit.ly/1yXRiGk
Google Play http://bit.ly/1zk23PR
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
December 24, 2014
Happy Holidays!
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!
Here are some hump day Holiday hotties for you :)
Normal Hump Day reads will resume next week! We hope everyone has a safe and Happy Holiday!!
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
December 21, 2014
FREE First in a series books available for a limited time from @iBooks!!
Check out all the FREE First in a series books available for a limited time from iBooks!!
LOTS of great reads on here… tw.apple.com/firstinaseriesfree
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
December 17, 2014
Hump Day books from Maggie Marr, Kaira Rouda, Debra Salonen, Karen Sandler, Danelle Harmon, Karen McCullough, Ruby Foxx, and Marilyn Clay!
Please enjoy these fantastic new Hump Day books, including four holiday romances!
The Christmas Wish (Powder Springs Book 2)
Can a bit of Christmas Magic and love make The Christmas Wish Come True?
More at Maggie Marr’s website!
Now just 99 cents through January 10th! Regularly 4.99.
For more info visit Kaira Rouda’s website!
Her Forever Gift (Big Sky Mavericks Book 5)
Free short holiday romance!
Connect with Debra Salonen at her website!
Loves Me, Loves Me Not: The Pen Pal Sisterhood Book 1
First book of the new Pen Pal Sisterhood series, free through December 18th!
For more visit Karen Sandler’s website!
The Wild One (The De Montforte Brothers, Book 1)
Free – with over 900 5-star and 4-star reviews, a former Kindle # 1 Download!
Visit Danelle Harmon at her website!
This light romantic mystery set at Christmas time is now available in ebook, having been re-edited and reformatted from the 1991 hardcover version.
For more see Karen McCullough’s website!
All He Wants For Christmas Eve: An Erotic Holiday Story
This very sexy holiday erotica is just the thing to get you in the mood for Christmas!
Visit Ruby Foxx at her website!
Will Betsy will succeed in her mission to bring down the ruthless double spy intent on thwarting the rebel cause?
See more at Marilyn Clay’s website!
Would you like to submit your book to be included in our Hump Day feature? Click here for more information!
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
December 10, 2014
Hump Day books from Julie Kenner, Sharon Ihle, Jacintha Topaz, Krystal Shannan, Sandra Bunino, Daisy Philips, Donna McDonald, and Eve Langlais!
Please enjoy these eight amazing Hump Day books, including Julie Kenner’s Caress of Darkness, first in the series of Dark Pleasures novellas!
Caress of Darkness: A Dark Pleasures Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
“From the first moment I saw him, I knew that Rainer Engel was like no other man. Dangerously sexy and darkly mysterious, he both enticed me and terrified me.”
Connect with Julie Kenner at her website!
A Lawman for Maggie (The Law and Disorder Series, Book 3)
This Christmas story is now only .99c through January!
More at Sharon Ihle’s website!
New BDSM Menage Romance Release!
Visit Jacintha Topaz at her website!
Trevor (A MacLaughlin Family Novella Book 1)
Trevor MacLaughlin has been in love with his sister’s best friend for years. But, he let her move away to college without ever telling her how he felt and hasn’t seen her since. Now, years later, a second chance with the woman of his dreams practically falls into his lap. Will he take a leap of faith and tell her how he feels?
Visit Krystal Shannan’s website!
Colors of Us (McAvery Brothers Book 1)
When their pasts threaten to tear them apart, can their love survive?
More at Sandra Bunino’s website!
Turning Tricks (Dave and Lida Book 1)
Hot and kinky!
For more go to Daisy Philip’s website!
Dating Dr. Notorious: Book Two of the Never Too Late Series
Let the stories of Alexa, Regina, and Lauren convince you in this humorous romantic comedy series that it is “Never Too Late” to find romance and love.
More info at Donna McDonald’s website!
Polar Bared: Anti-Hero, BIG Bear Romance (Kodiak Point Book 3)
When Vicky accidentally slides into the side of a polar bear, she doesn’t expect to fall in love. Eaten yes, but become the object of a bear’s affection and lust? Crazy! Almost as crazy as the fact the polar bear turns out to be a man. A sexy man.
Connect with Eve Langlais at her website!
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Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
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December 9, 2014
OUT NOW: Caress of Darkness by Julie Kenner a Dark Pleasures Novella with @1001DarkNights
Caress of Darkness, a 1001 Dark Nights novella is available NOW!!
This launches my Dark Pleasures series of erotic paranormal romances!
Amazon http://amzn.to/1kQ9cDe
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/VnxTMK
Help us celebrate the new release with this awesome contest … and a chance to win a fire opal amulet like the one in the book!
You can pre- order the next four novellas in the series, too! Find Me in Darkness, Find Me in Pleasure, and Find Me in Passion (coming in January) are now up for pre-order, along with Caress of Pleasure coming in April!
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
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December 6, 2014
Celebrating Caress of Darkness with a chance to snag an awesome opal necklace … and more!
Caress of Darkness, a 1001 Dark Nights novella releases next week and launches my Dark Pleasures series of erotic paranormal romances! Help us celebrate with this awesome contest … and a chance to win a fire opal amulet like the one in the book!
There are a lot of ways to enter to win, including helping us with the Thunderclap campaign!
Be sure to pre-order your copy now! And while you’re at it, you can pre- order the next four novellas in the series, too! Find Me in Darkness, Find Me in Pleasure, and Find Me in Passion (coming in January) are now up for pre-order, along with Caress of Pleasure coming in April!
And be sure not to miss any of the novellas in the series!!
Dark Pleasures novellas
print and digital
December 2014Raine’s story (stand alone)
Find Me in Darkness
(Mal and Christina, part 1)
More retailers coming soon!
Find Me in Pleasure(Mal and Christina, Part 2)
More retailers coming soon!
Find Me in Passion(Mal and Christina, Part 3)
More retailers coming soon!
April 2015Dante’s story(stand alone)
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
December 3, 2014
Read the sexy 1st chapter! New erotic paranormal romance – Caress of Darkness by Julie Kenner
It’s less than one week to the release of Caress of Darkness, a 1001 Dark Nights novella that launches my Dark Pleasures series of erotic paranormal romances!
Check out the first chapter … and pre-order your copy now! And while you’re at it, you can pre- order the next four novellas in the series, too! Find Me in Darkness, Find Me in Pleasure, and Find Me in Passion (coming in January) are now up for pre-order, along with Caress of Pleasure coming in April!
Chapter 1
“Who the fuck are you?”
I jump, startled by the voice—deep and male and undeniably irritated—that echoes across the forest of boxes scattered throughout my father’s Upper East Side antique store.
“Who am I?” I repeat as I stand and search the shadows for the intruder. “Who the hell are you?”
There is more bravado in my voice than I feel, especially when I finally see the man who has spoken. He is standing in the shadows near the front door—a door that I am damn sure I locked after putting the Closed sign in the window and settling in for a long night of inventory and packing.
He is tall, well over six feet, with a lean, muscular build that is accentuated by the faded jeans that hug his thighs and the simple white T-shirt that reveals muscled arms sleeved with tattoos.
His casual clothes, inked skin, and close-shaved head hint at danger and rebellion, but those traits are contrasted by a commanding, almost elegant, presence that seems to both fill the room and take charge of it. This is a man who would be equally at ease in a tux as a T-shirt. A man who expects the world to bend to his will, and if it doesn’t comply, he will go out and bend it himself.
I see that confidence most potently in his face, all sharp lines and angles that blend together into a masterpiece now dusted with the shadow of a late afternoon beard. He has the kind of eyes that miss nothing, and right now they are hard and assessing. They are softened, however, by long, dark lashes that most women would kill for.
His mouth is little more than a hard slash across his features, but I see a hint of softness, and when I find myself wondering how those lips would feel against my skin, I realize that I have been staring and yank myself firmly from my reverie.
“I asked you a question,” I snap, more harshly than I intended. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”
“Raine,” he says, striding toward me. “Rainer Engel. And I walked in through the front door.”
“I locked it.” I wipe my now-sweaty hands on my dusty yoga pants.
“The fact that I’m inside suggests otherwise.”
He has crossed the store in long, efficient strides, and now stands in front of me. I catch his scent, all musk and male, sin and sensuality, and feel an unwelcome ache between my thighs.
Not unwelcome because I don’t like sex. On the contrary, I’d have to label myself a fan, and an overenthusiastic one at that. Because the truth is that I’ve spent too many nights in the arms of many strangers trying to fill some void in myself.
I say “some void” because I don’t really know what I’m searching for. A connection, I guess, but at the same time I’m scared of finding one and ending up hurt, which is why I shy from traditional “my friend has a friend” kind of dating, and spend more time than I should in bars and clubs. And that means that while I might be enjoying a series of really good lays, I’m not doing anything more than using sex as a Band-Aid.
At least, that is what my therapist, Kelly, back home in Austin says. And since I’m a lawyer and not a shrink, I’m going to have to take her word on that.
“We’re closed,” I say firmly. Or, rather, I intend to say firmly. In fact, my voice comes out thin, suggesting a question rather than a command.
Not that my tone matters. The man—Raine—seems entirely uninterested in what I have to say.
He cocks his head slightly to one side, as if taking my measure, and if the small curve of that sensual mouth is any indication, he likes what he sees. I prop a hand on my hip and stare back defiantly. I know what I look like—and I know that with a few exceptions, men tend to go stupid when I dial it up.
The ratty law school T-shirt I’m wearing is tight, accenting breasts that I’d cursed in high school, but that had become a boon once I started college and realized that my ample tits, slender waist, and long legs added up to a combination that made guys drool. Add in wavy blonde hair and green eyes and I’ve got the kind of cheerleader-esque good looks that make so many of the good old boy lawyers in Texas think that I’ve got cotton candy for brains.
And believe me when I say that I’m not shy about turning their misogynistic stereotype to my advantage, both in the courtroom and out of it.
“You’re Callie.” His voice conveys absolute certainty, as if his inspection confirmed one of the basic facts of the universe. Which, since I am Callie, I guess it did. But how the hell he knows who I am is beyond me.
“Your father talks about you a lot,” Raine says, apparently picking up on my confusion. His eyes rake over me as he speaks, and my skin prickles with awareness, as potent as if his fingertip troked me. “A lawyer who lives in Texas with the kind of looks that make a father nervous, balanced by sharp, intelligent eyes that reassure him that she’s not going to do anything stupid.”
“You know my father.”
“I know your father,” he confirms.
“And he told you that about me?”
“The lawyer part. The rest I figured out all on my own.” One corner of his mouth curves up. “I have eyes, after all.” Those eyes are currently aimed at my chest, and I say a silent thank you to whoever decided that padded bras were a good thing because otherwise he would certainly see how hard and tight my nipples have become.
“University of Texas School of Law. Good school.” He lifts his gaze from my chest to my face, and the heat I see in those ice-blue eyes seems to seep under my skin, melting me a bit from the inside out. “Very good.”
I lick my lips, realizing that my mouth has gone uncomfortably dry. I’ve been working as an assistant district attorney for the last two years. I’ve gotten used to being the one in charge of a room. And right now, I’m feeling decidedly off-kilter, part of me wanting to pull him close, and the other wanting to run as far and as fast from him as I can.
Since neither option is reasonable at the moment, I simply take a step back, then find myself trapped by the glass jewelry case, now pressing against my ass.
I clear my throat. “Listen, Mr. Engel, if you’re looking for my father—”
“I am, and I apologize for snapping at you when I came in, but I was surprised to see that the shop was closed, and when I saw someone other than Oliver moving inside, I got worried.”
“I closed early so that I could work without being interrupted.”
A hint of a smile plays at his mouth. “In that case, I’ll also apologize for interrupting. But Oliver asked me to come by when I got back in town. I’m anxious to discuss the amulet that he’s located.”
“Oh.” I don’t know why I’m surprised. He obviously hadn’t come into the store looking for me. And yet for some reason the fact that I’ve suddenly become irrelevant rubs me the wrong way.
Clearly, I need to get a grip, and I paste on my best customer service smile. “I’m really sorry, but my dad’s not here.”
“No? I told him I’d come straight over.” I can hear the irritation in his voice. “He knows how much I want this piece—how much I’m willing to pay. If he’s made arrangements to sell it to another—”
“No.” The word is fast and firm and entirely unexpected. “It’s not like that. My dad doesn’t play games with clients.”
“That’s true. He doesn’t.” His brow creases as he looks around the shop, taking in the open boxes, half filled with inventory, the colored sticky notes I’ve been using to informally assign items to numbered boxes, and the general disarray of the space. “Callie, what’s happened to your father?”
It is the way he says my name that loosens my tongue. Had he simply asked the question, I probably would have told him that he could come back in the morning and we’d search the computerized inventory for the piece he’s looking for. But there is something so intimate about my name on his lips that I can’t help but answer honestly.
“My dad had a stroke last week.” My voice hitches as I speak, and I look off toward the side of the store, too wrecked to meet his eyes directly.
“Oh, Callie.” He steps closer and takes my hand, and I’m surprised to find that I not only don’t pull away, but that I actually have to fight the urge to pull our joint hands close to my heart.
“I didn’t know,” he says. “I’m so sorry. How is he doing?”
“N-not very well.” I suck in a breath and try to gather myself, but it’s just so damn hard. My mom walked out when I was four, saying that being a mother was too much responsibility, and ever since I’ve been my dad’s entire world. It’s always amazed me that he didn’t despise me. But he really doesn’t. He says that I was a gift, and I know it’s true because I have seen and felt it every day of my life.
Whatever the cause of my disconnect with men, it doesn’t harken back to my dad, a little fact that I know fascinates my shrink, though she’s too much the professional to flat out tell me as much.
“Does he have decent care? Do you need any referrals? Any help financially?” Raine is crouching in front of me, and I realize that I have sunk down, so that my butt is on the cold tile floor and I am hugging my knees.
I shake my head, too to realize this stranger is apparently offering to help pay my dad’s medical bills. “We’re fine. He’s got great care and great insurance. He’s just—” I break off as my voice cracks. “Shit.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Breathe now. That’s it, just breathe.” He presses his hands to my shoulders, and his face is just inches away. His eyes are wide and safe and warm, and I want to slide into them. To just disappear into a place where there are neither worries nor responsibilities. Where someone strong will hold me and take care of me and make everything bad disappear.
But that’s impossible, and so I draw another breath in time with his words and try once again to formulate a coherent thought. “He’s—he’s got good doctors, really. But he’s not lucid. And this is my dad. I mean, Oliver Sinclair hasn’t gone a day in his life without an opinion or a witticism.”
I feel the tears well in my eyes and I swipe them away with a brusque brush of my thumb. “And it kills me because I can look at him and it breaks my heart to know that he must have all this stuff going on inside his head that he just can’t say, and— and—”
But I can’t get the words out, and I feel the tears snaking down my cheeks, and dammit, dammit, dammit, I do not want to lose it in front of this man—this stranger who doesn’t feel like a stranger.
His grip on my shoulders tightens and he leans toward me.
And then—oh, dear god—his lips are on mine and they are as warm and soft as I’d imagined and he’s kissing me so gently and so sweetly that all my worries are just melting away and I’m limp in his arms.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” His voice washes over me, as gentle and calming as a summer rain. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
I breathe deep, soothed by the warm sensuality of this stranger’s golden voice. Except he isn’t a stranger. I may not have met him before today, but somehow, here in his arms, I know him.
And that, more than anything, comforts me.
Calmer, I tilt my head back and meet his eyes. It is a soft moment and a little sweet—but it doesn’t stay that way. It changes in the space of a glance. In the instant of a heartbeat. And what started out as gentle comfort transforms into fiery heat.
I don’t know which of us moves first. All I know is that I have to claim him and be claimed by him. That I have to taste him—consume him. Because in some essential way that I don’t fully understand, I know that only this man can quell the need burning inside me, and I lose myself in the hot intensity of his mouth upon mine. Of his tongue demanding entrance, and his lips, hard and demanding, forcing me to give everything he wants to take.
I am limp against him, felled by the onslaught of erotic sparks that his kisses have scattered through me. I am lost in the sensation of his hands stroking my back. Of his chest pressed against my breasts.
But it isn’t until I realize that he has pulled me into his lap and that I can feel the hard demand of his erection against my rear that I force myself to escape this sensual reality and scramble backward out of his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my breath coming too hard.
“Callie—” The need I hear in his voice reflects my own, and I clench my hands into fists as I fight against the instinct to move back into his arms.
“No.” I don’t understand what’s happening—this instant heat, like a match striking gasoline. I’ve never reacted to a man this way before. My skin feels prickly, as if I’ve been caught in a lightning storm. His scent is all over me. And the taste of him lingers on my mouth.
And oh, dear god, I’m wet, my body literally aching with need, with a primal desire for him to just rip my clothes off and take me right there on the hard, dusty floor.
He’s triggered a wildness in me that I don’t understand—and my reaction scares the hell out of me.
“You need to go,” I say, and I am astonished that my words are both measured and articulate, as if I’m simply announcing that it is closing time to a customer.
He stays silent, but I shake my head anyway, and hold up a finger as if in emphasis.
“No,” I say, in response to nothing. “I don’t know anything about this amulet. And now you really need to leave. Please,” I add. “Please, Raine. I need you to go.”
For a moment he only looks at me. Then he nods, a single tilt of his head in acknowledgment. “All right,” he says very softly. “I’ll go. But I’m not ever leaving you again.”
I stand frozen, as if his inexplicable words have locked me in place. He turns slowly and strides out of the shop without looking back. And when the door clicks into place behind him and I am once morealone, I gulp in air as tears well in my eyes again.
I rub my hands over my face, forgiving myself for this emotional miasma because of all the shit that’s happened with my dad. Of course I’m a wreck; what daughter wouldn’t be?
Determined to get a grip, I follow his path to the door, then hold onto the knob. I’d come over intending to lock it. But now I want to yank it open and beg him to return.
It’s an urge I fight. It’s just my grief talking. My fear that I’m about to lose my father, the one person in all the world who is close to me, and so I have clung to a stranger in a desperate effort to hold fast to something.
That, at least, is what my shrink would say. You’re fabricating a connection in order to fill a void. It’s what you do, Callie. It’s what you’ve always done when lonely and afraid.
I nod, telling myself I agree with Kelly’s voice in my head.
And I do.
Because I am lonely.
And I am afraid of losing my dad.
But that’s not the whole of it. Because there’s something else that I’m afraid of, too, though I cannot put my finger on it. A strange sense of something coming. Something dark. Something bad.
And what scares me most is the ridiculous, unreasonable fear that I have just pushed away the one person I need to survive whatever is waiting for me out there in the dark.
Dark Pleasures novellas
print and digital
December 2014Raine’s story (stand alone)
Find Me in Darkness
(Mal and Christina, part 1)
More retailers coming soon!
Find Me in Pleasure(Mal and Christina, Part 2)
More retailers coming soon!
Find Me in Passion(Mal and Christina, Part 3)
More retailers coming soon!
April 2015Dante’s story(stand alone)
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
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Hump Day books from Katherine Garbera, Susannah Sandlin, Jean Oram, Jacinda Wilder, Lauren Hawkeye, Megan Bryce, Maddie Jones, and Naughty Literati!
Please enjoy eight new Hump Day books, including a Naughty & Nice Holiday Collection and Thirteen Naughty Holiday Stories from the Naughty Literati!
First title in the exciting Holiday Heat trilogy. Heat up your holidays with Harlequin Blaze and Katherine Garbera.
More at Katherine Garbera’s website!
Deadly, Calm, and Cold (The Collectors)
The stakes are high and the danger higher as an artist and a historian with big secrets are blackmailed into finding the crown jewels lost by England’s “Bad King John” back when Robin Hood roamed Nottingham.
Be sure to visit Susannah Sandlin at her website!
Naughty & Nice: A Holiday Collection
Holiday novellas from NY Times/USA Today bestsellers!
Find out more at Jean Oram’s website!
A full length, stand-alone contemporary romance, set in the world of STRIPPED!
More at Jacinda Wilder’s website!
Untouched (Contemporary Romance) (Florence, Arizona Book 1)
New Contemporary Romance!
Be sure to visit Lauren Hawkeye’s website!
To Tame A Dragon (The Reluctant Bride Collection Book 2)
Her fierce spirit would soothe his troubled soul.
For more on The Reluctant Bride Collection visit Megan Bryce’s website!
Jack and Claire are on a wild search through time, not only for the resolution to a powerful attraction between them, but also for a historical artifact that holds the key to their future happiness.
Connect with Maddie James at her website!
Naughty List: Thirteen Naughty Holiday Stories
Warm up your winter with this new release from The Naughty Literati!
See more at the Naughty Literati website!
Would you like to submit your book to be included in our Hump Day feature? Click here for more information!
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
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December 2, 2014
It’s #TeaserTuesday and another little taste of Caress of Darkness by Julie Kenner!
It’s #TeaserTuesday and another little taste of Caress of Darkness (Dark Pleasures) by Julie Kenner!
This first installment is a stand alone and a part of the 1001 Dark Nights!
Pre-order your copy today:
Amazon http://amzn.to/1kQ9cDe
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/VnxTMK
From the first moment I saw him, I knew that Rainer Engel was like no other man. Dangerously sexy and darkly mysterious, he both enticed me and terrified me.
I wanted to run–to fight against the heat that was building between us–but there was nowhere to go. I needed his help as much as I needed his touch. And so help me, I knew that I would do anything he asked in order to have both.
But even as our passion burned hot, the secrets in Raine’s past reached out to destroy us … and we would both have to make the greatest sacrifice to find a love that would last forever.
Sharable snippets!It's #TeaserTuesday and another little taste of Caress of Darkness by @JulieKenner! BufferDecember's @1001DarkNights tale teaser!! Caress of Darkness by @JulieKenner Buffer
Where do you want to go next?
The Stark Series ... bestselling, swoonworthy erotic romance. Have you been Damienized?
The Most Wanted series ... dark, edgy, sexy badboys. Need we say more?
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom ... oh, come on. The series title says it all!
The Dark Pleasures Series ... dark, dangerous ... and immortal.
Protector Superhero series ... fun, flirty paranormal romance.
The Blood Lily Chronicles ... dark, sensual urban fantasy.
The Shadow Keepers ... edgy and sensual paranormal romance
Devil May Care ... who will the next ruler of Sin City be?
and more stories to come ...
Looking to meet JK?
Got a question for JK?
You'll find contact info and FAQs here!
Subscribe with your email address:
