Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 238

Unfinished Night: The Complete Duet by Violet Duke

Title: Unfinished Night: The Complete DuetSeries: Unfinished Love #1-2Author: Violet DukeGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: April 24, 2017


Blurb
THE COMPLETE USA TODAY BESTSELLING DUET 
Love, sacrifice, and the lengths one will run--and chase--when their past threatens their future. This bundled box set contains both books in Caine & Addison's bestselling duet (Bk 1: Before That Night and Bk 2: Every Night Without You).
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Before That Night

Before that night, Addison Milan had been just a college dropout secretly raising her two young siblings in a beat-up minivan she'd bought with her first semester's tuition refund--the only money her addict mother hadn't taken off with when she'd abandoned them nearly two years ago.

Before that night, Caine Spencer had been just a rough, gruff cop sent to check out the phoned-in claims of suspected child neglect involving the same woman he'd met just months prior when she'd first served him the city's worst diner coffee...which he'd been drinking daily ever since.

Before that night, Addison would never have thought the man she'd been fighting hard not to fall for--her only friend in her new shadow of a life--would be in a position to rip her family apart.

Before that night, Caine would never have believed any woman could make him fall head over heels, let alone make him feel so damn compelled to look the other way when it came to his job.

Then that one perfect night changed everything.
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Every Night Without You

Seven years. 

Seven damn years of wondering whether the woman was still alive...whether she'd spent the last two thousand five hundred fifty-five days wondering if he was still alive.

Wondering whether that night was as burned into her memory as it was his.

Seven years having his heart tethered to Addison―and now she's back. With even more reasons to run than she'd had then.

Only this time, Caine isn't letting the gorgeous little flight risk out of his sight.

Regardless of how noble her reasons may be. 

“Violet Duke is my go-to read when I just want to immerse myself in a captivating romance.” – NYT bestselling author J.S. Cooper 
EVERY NIGHT WITHOUT YOU (Bk 2 of 2) takes place seven years after BEFORE THAT NIGHT (Bk 1 of 2), and is the conclusion of Caine & Addison's story of love, sacrifice, and the lengths one will run―and chase―when their past threatens their future.

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Author Bio

New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Violet Duke is a former English Ed professor ecstatic to now be on the other side of the page writing emotion-rich stories with fun, everyday characters and sweet, sexy match-ups. Since her acclaimed debut series in 2013, over a million readers have put Violet's “laugh & cry” contemporary romances on the USA Today bestseller list sixteen times, the NYT bestseller list three times, and the Top 10 charts across the major eretailers both in the U.S. and internationally.

When she doesn't have her nose in a book, Violet enjoys the live-out-loud-in-your-PJs sorta lifestyle she loves writing about, which involves lots of: 1) excuses to use her power tools, 2) doing stuff without checking the directions, and 3) impossible-to-be-duplicated 'special edition' dishes that laugh in the face of recipes. Born and raised in Hawai'i, Violet continues to live the no-shoes island way with her kids (daughter Violet & son Duke) and husband (aka their ringleader...and her most devoted fan).



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The Wishing Stone By Lorana Hoopes

Children’s Fantasy Chapter Book Date Published: March 9, 2017





Spenser hates to read until he meets a mysterious cowboy who gives him a wishing stone and tells him it can possess magical powers when he reads. Skeptical, but willing to try it out, Spenser holds the stone as he reads his book about dinosaurs and suddenly finds himself transported back in time. After convincing the people he is there to help, he must join Arco, the local cave boy, to try and save their village from a dinosaur intent on destroying it. Will Spenser be able to help save the village? Will he ever find his way back home?



 Excerpt
Spenser looked to the left and right, clutching the straps of his backpack tighter. He had read about cowboys but never seen one in real life. There weren’t many in western Washington. His mother, who was from Texas, spoke of them occasionally, but even she said there weren’t as many as there used to be.“Why you looking so glum little pardner?” the man drawled. His accent was heavy, and his words were slow.Spenser wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, but his curiosity got the best of him. “I have to read a book and do a report on it by Friday, and I don’t like reading.”“Well, that is a mighty big problem,” the man agreed, tipping his hat. “Maybe you just ain’t found the right book yet.”“What do you mean?” Spenser asked, narrowing his eyes at the man.“Books can be full of amazing stories. Once you find one you like, I’ll bet you’ll be hooked for life pardner. Here, I got something that might help.” He reached into the pocket of his black duster and pulled something out. It was small enough to fit in his hand.Unable to help himself, Spenser took another step closer. His blue eyes widened as he waited for the man to open his hand.The man’s fingers uncurled one at a time to showcase . . ..“A rock?” Spenser’s nose wrinkled in disgust. He had been hoping for something cooler than a rock.“Not just any rock, son. This is a wishing stone. You jest hold it while you read and see what happens, but I must warn you to be careful of your thoughts. For sometimes, when you hold this stone, magical things happen.”Spenser looked again at the stone. Though nearly completely white, it still looked just like an ordinary rock to him. He took the rock, expecting nothing, but a cool sensation tickled up his arms. He glanced up quickly at the man, who merely smiled and nodded, as if they now shared a secret.

About the Author

Lorana Hoopes is an English teacher in the Pacific Northwest where she lives with her husband and three children. When not writing, she enjoys kickboxing, singing, and acting. The Wishing Stone series was born when her oldest son began reading The Magic Tree House books. While she loved that he was reading, she wished the book didn’t use all simple sentences. She decided to write a series just a step up from Magic Tree House and The Wishing Stone was born. Dangerous Dinosaur is the first book in what she hopes will be a long series.

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The Hidden Souls Series by JP Uvalle

One case. One secret. One dog. One soul. Can transform a life forever.
FEAR consumes the quiet town of Groverton, North Carolina when seven, teenage girls mysteriously vanish - with little evidence left behind. Unfortunately, their disappearances are only the beginning...The course of the investigation unleashes a string of bizarre occurrences only bombarding, Xandra Kallan, and her partner, Liam Hendrik with more questions. Questions; that make them rethink: everything they thought they knew about each other, themselves, and the world around them. For them, meeting and becoming partners runs deeper than fate.
Their souls are fated, and this gives them an unimaginable connection to the suspect.Proving, sometimes the hardest mystery to solve is your own.
One War. One Soul Mate. One Descendant. One Decision. Could Destroy the World.
Xandra Kallan – a homicide detective, battles internal turmoil, suffering the aftermath of being caught in the middle of a war, which has left her without the person she needs the most. With her eyes open to the truth and her tortuous past unearthed, she seeks solitude, leaving her haunting past, soul mates, and the place she used to call home in the rearview to soul search with her trusty canine companion by her side – her shield from evil.Will the truth set her free or will her past catch up with her?On her road to freedom, Xandra finds herself on the campus of Colorado State University. And reminiscing of her old college days, she decides to re-enter the world of education to become a veterinarian. Little does she anticipate; she will run into a soul just as lost as her. Just as dark. A descendant. And there's more to this soul that meets the eye.In the battle between descendants and soul mates, which side will she choose?When Xandra gains more knowledge about Arcos, she is forced to choose – a decision that could affect the survival of mankind.Will Xandra make the right decision this time around or will she once again, get caught up in the flames?
One Leader. One Team. One War. One Fate.
XANDRA KALLAN—Continues to battle with her past demons, while focusing on her duties as CEO of the most successful crime-eliminating agency in the world.With her flames LIAM HENDRIK and SINTHOS still missing in action, she finds it impossible to move on—to open up, to love again.Xandra’s soul mates want nothing but the best for her, wanting nothing more than her happiness. Their love for her has them all vying for her affection—a game of love and war with a sure guarantee that someone will end up hurt or even dead.When the gloves come off in this violent battle to claim her love, who will Xandra choose to be by her side for all eternity?Life-altering secrets are revealed…Xandra’s life will never be the same…Now, it’s time for Xandra to walk on the WILD side…The cards are on the table…The world’s fate rests in her hands…Will Xandra rise up to lead or will she chose to remain captive by her troubling past?
About the SeriesThe Hidden Souls Series
by JP Uvalle
Genre
Adult
Paranormal Romance
Urban Fantasy
Publisher
Beautifully Twisted Publishing
About JP UvalleJ. P. Uvalle is a beautifully twisted soul who has a passion for writing paranormal romance and has the divine ability to make the unbelievable, believable. She was born and raised in Colorado Springs, went to Bel-Rea Institute of Animal Technology and graduated with an Associate's degree in Applied Science and Technology. JP works part-time as an ICU technician in Highlands Ranch, Colorado at an emergency/specialty hospital.
Aside from being a technician and a writer, she runs two businesses in her spare time— Beautifully Twisted Publishing, and Mary Kay. On top of that, she also contributes her time to the Beneath the Ashes Blog as a Promotions Manager.
When she's not saving lives, coming up with her next plot twist or making women feel pretty and pampered, she's spending time with family and friends.

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Play Along by T L Swan

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Title: Play AlongAuthor: T L SwanGenre: Romantic ThrillerRelease Date: April 23, 2017


Blurb
I witnessed a murder and became his hostage.
Held captive beneath the deck of a shipping container…. I realise to save my life I need to become valuable.My body is my only weapon.His pleasure to my pain.
28 days is a long time to Play Along with his perverted demands. He thinks I enjoy them.It disgusts me that I secretly do.
I hate him.I crave him.
But my mind is stronger than my body and this time he picked the wrong girl to mess with.When the player becomes the played, escape will be my reality.

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ExcerptChapter 1
In a world full of deceit and lies, who do you trust?I stand alone in the corner of the nightclub, watching him take her in his arms before he kisses her. The air evaporates from my lungs. I can’t breathe.Despair is pumping through my bloodstream, but for some sick self-destructive reason, I can’t bring myself to look away. I have to see this—see what he is capable of and exactly how far this has gone.The signs were there, I saw them. But like a fool I ignored them for as long as my gut instinct would allow.I believed that he loved me.I believed that she loved me.As I stand there and watch my boyfriend of two years kissing my best friend and roommate of five years, I realize I have never felt so betrayed on so many levels. I can’t even begin to comprehend what I am witnessing.The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I feel like I am having an out of body experience watching the horrific nightmare unfold.This can’t be happening.My first inkling was two weeks ago. Melissa, my roommate, had a date with a guy she has been seeing for a few weeks and when he arrived to pick her up, Todd, my boyfriend, was really nasty to him. I watched him glare at her as she left and I saw her practically run from the apartment just to get Todd away from that man. Why? Why wasn’t he happy that she was dating? They had become friends and hell, had spent many nights alone in my apartment as he waited for me to get home from my nightshift. A sick thought had crossed my mind that night… was he jealous?No, he couldn’t be.So, I thought I would test the theory. Over the following week I was overly affectionate towards Todd in front of Melissa, and every single time she went to bed early, acting happy even though I knew she was fuming inside. The catalyst came on Thursday night when I decided to call in sick for work and Todd and Melissa were both openly annoyed that I wasn’t going in. I had obviously ruined their plans of having sex, and that’s when the deep sickening truth slayed me.Did they have sex in her bed or mine?How often did my roommate satisfy my lover?Unable to help myself, I put a tracking device app on Melissa’s phone. I knew her password. Of course I did. We shared everything.Even a cock, it seemed.On Friday she announced that she was going away for the weekend and Todd announced that he had a night away planned to somewhere else for work.Coincidence? I didn’t think so.I knew they were meeting up and probably going to be fucking in a hotel room somewhere. I took my time. I waited.And now it’s 11 p.m. on Saturday night and I’m in a different town, in a nightclub where I know nobody, witnessing my worst nightmare.He can go. A leopard never changes his sickening spots... but why the fuck did he have to take her from me? I watch them through unshed tears as my heart tries to escape my chest.My best friend—the only constant in my life since my mother passed away five years ago. My father, an abusing control freak, left when I was a kid, and then when Mom died I moved here for college and met Melissa.  My life changed that day. Mel was happy, confident, and attractive.More than I was… than I am.I watch her grind herself against him while he looks down on her seductively as she dances. His hands are on her behind. He’s smiling as he says something and then they laugh together, and I feel myself die a little inside.They are not just fucking.They have feelings for each other.He kisses her again and his hands go to the back of her head to hold her exactly how he wants her. Their kiss is long, deep, and erotic.Through blurred vision, I try to make myself look away.No.I can’t look away because I know when I leave this nightclub two of the most important people in my life will no longer be a part of it. The floor sways beneath me. How is this possible?What have I done to deserve this betrayal?I can’t move.He kisses her again and they fall back against a wall where he pins her and then they start to really go for it.No. Stop it!The tears burst the dam and I start to stride toward them as the adrenaline hits its crescendo. I need to stop them, stop everything. Stop kissing her, you fucking asshole!Please, stop it!But then I pause mid-step.Don’t do this. Don’t lower yourself. Go home and move out. Don’t give them a chance to deny or defend it.I am better than this.I stand for a moment and stare at the square pattern on the carpet beneath my feet. I’m dizzy and disorientated. I stay there for a while longer with my eyes firmly on the dirty treasons. He kisses her and lifts her thigh up to wrap around his, a move he always pulls on me. Does he like to do her from behind, too?That last thought snaps something deep inside. I don’t remember getting over to them, but I push him in the back as he pins her to the wall, he falls forward and then looks around, his expression drops in horror. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve punched him in the face.Melissa’s hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my God!” she gasps. “T-this isn’t what it looks like,” she stammers.“You slut!” I scream, unable to control myself. I grab a drink from a man walking past and throw it in her face, following it up with a hard slap across her cheek. She staggers back in shock, her hand flying up to her smarting face.“Roshelle,” Todd cries as he grabs my arm to try and control me. “Calm down.” He pulls me away from Melissa, clearly scared that I am going to hit her again.“I will not fucking calm down.” I push out as the tears fall. I turn to him and a myriad of emotions fill me, but it is his betrayal that steals my voice. I have so many things I want to say, so many things that have escaped my brain. My eyes search his and he tries to grab my hand. “Don’t touch me!” I yell as I whip my hand away from him. “Never again.”I turn to Melissa. “Get your things and get out of my house.” I sneer.“Roshelle,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head in disbelief. Suddenly the walls start closing in, and I know I have got to get out of here.I have got to get away from this hurt.I see an exit sign and make a beeline for it without looking back. I push out into the cold night air, the door slamming behind me.“Shut the fuck up before I blow your fucking head off!” a man’s voice yells.“You don’t have the fucking guts,” someone else sneers in reply.Huh? I try to focus, despite my tears, and I angrily swipe them from my eyes. It’s dark and there are people out here. I try to focus on the shadows in front of me, then I turn back and try to open the door I just came out of. It’s locked and there is no handle on this side. It’s clearly a fire door.What? Where am I?The tears are streaming down my face.A gunshot rings out and a man drops in front of me clutching his stomach. My eyes widen in horror as I grasp the situation I have just unknowingly stumbled upon.What?Suddenly, I’m surrounded by five men on all sides. I’ve interrupted some kind of deal.Oh no.“Who the fuck is she?” one man calls out.I shake my head in a panic. “I didn’t see anything, I swear.” I push through the group of men and one of them grabs me by the arm. “I need me some clean ass tonight.”I try to rip my arm from his clutches, but he hits me hard across the face with his gun, the pain ringing through my head like a lightning bolt before I fall to the ground.“Bring her with us,” someone yells.“No, we don’t need that baggage. Leave her, she said she didn’t see anything.” They continue arguing.“Yeah, well, my cock needs new pussy. “Bring her.” The shooter growls.I feel my body being lifted and then thrown into the tight space of a car trunk. “No,” I whisper. “No.” My handbag falls to the ground and I see someone pick it up and throw it in the car.The trunk lid slams with a thud.I taste blood in my mouth as I lie in a semi-conscious state in the dark.The pain from my head throbs. What has just happened?I put my hands up in the darkness and feel the cold metal that encases me.The reality of the situation rings true as the car starts to drive and I hear them talking to each other in the backseats behind me. Everything is foggy and my head, it hurts so much. I feel something hot run through my hair. What is it? I put my hand up and feel a deep gash in my head, the dripping blood hot and sticky. What the fuck? Oh no. They will kill me. With renewed purpose and splayed hands I start to hit the roof in a panic.They just killed someone.I need some new pussy. His words run through my head. Oh my God, they are going to rape me before they kill me, all five of them.I start to run my hands frantically over the metal that encases me. How do you get out of a car trunk? Is there a latch?“Help!” I scream. “Help me,” I call out as I slam my open hands on the roof. The car slows down. Shit! My eyes widen. Is this it? I pant as I listen to their movements and I hear the whirl of the traffic lights walk indicator. Now! I need to scream now. We are static, stuck in traffic.I start to bang on the roof with force. “Help me!” I scream. I lift my legs and try to push the lid open, but fuck, it’s so cramped in here. I bang frantically on the ceiling and I feel around underneath me, grabbing the corner of the carpet. Tools. There will be tools under here. I half roll over and tear back the carpet and grab a metal toolbox. “Help me. I’m in the trunk. I’m being kidnapped. Heeeeeeelp!” I scream.“Shut the fuck up or I’ll come back there and shut you up,” a male voice growls from inside the car.My eyes widen. Oh, he sounds scary. I really begin to freak out. I have to get out of here. Now.I struggle to open the toolbox in front of me in the dark, but eventually it flies open in a rush and a tire iron flings back, hitting me straight in the nose. “Ah, fuck!” I scream. Ouch, that fucking hurt. The impact brings tears to my eyes and I clutch my face. Oh, crap, I think I broke my own nose. I grab the tire iron and hit it on the roof with all of my strength. The impact makes it ricochet back and hits me straight in the eyebrow.“Ahh!” I scream again. I feel a hot trickle run down the side of my face. If they don’t kill me I am doing a good job of it myself here.I keep banging the tire iron on the roof. This has got to be gaining some kind of attention. “Help me,” I yell. “Someone… call the police. Help.”The car speeds up and I am flung to the back of the trunk. The lights change, the car flies around the corner, and I go flying, sending the tools scattering throughout the trunk so they hit me. The driver turns a right like a maniac and I slide and hit my head against the side.“Fucking assholes,” I scream, and I hear them all laugh inside the car. Then the vehicle flies around a left corner and I go sliding again. I can hear the tires screeching as the car races down the street.I’m going to die. Oh God, I’m going to die. I try to grip onto the metal roof to stop myself from hitting the edge, but I can’t, and as the car flies around the corner I crumple into the hard metal end of the trunk. The tools are flying around and hitting me. Shit. I feel around frantically for the tire iron again. I may need it, but I can’t find it, and my hand feels around the carpeted floor. Where are you? Where are you? I bend and feel along the other end of the trunk and finally feel the cold hard metal. My heart is racing as the car races out of control. I need a plan, but what is the damn plan? Think. I clutch the tire iron in my hand with white-knuckle force as I try to stop myself from flying around. Whoever opens the trunk is getting knocked out with this fucker. My thoughts cross to Oprah and her sound advice to never go to the second location. I don’t remember much from Oprah, but I do know that she said never go to the second location if being kidnapped—fight like hell to escape because they are going to kill you as soon as you get there. Oh God, this is great. I’m already in the fucking car on the way to the second location. I begin to get mad, like, furious mad. How dare they? I’ve had a really fucking bad night and I’m not in the mood for this shit. After about twenty minutes and sixty attack plans, the car slows down and goes over speed bumps. Where are we?Adrenaline starts to pump through my blood.Speed bumps are in parking lots… So that must mean we are in a deserted parking lot.The car stops and the men go silent. I close my eyes, knowing this is it.Holy shit.My heart is hammering and I grip the tire iron in one hand and the car jack in the other. If I’m going to die tonight, someone is coming with me. I wriggle around so my feet are facing the opening, and I pull them back towards my chest. I can hardly breathe, I’m so scared. I hold my weapons in my hand and wait. The car doors open and the whole car lifts as the men get out. Where are we?I hear them begin to talk as if I have been totally forgotten about and another sickening thought crosses my mind. What if they just leave me in here?What if I just die a slow death in the car from no water or food? Oh my God.What do I do? What do I do?I stay quiet for five minutes as I try to think until I can’t stand it any longer.Screw this. I am not dying alone in the trunk of a car in a deserted parking lot. I put my tire iron down next to me on the floor and I bang on the trunk lid. “Help me. Let me out,” I call.The men go silent.“Just get her out and let her go,” someone says.“I will be having some fun first,” another answers.I can’t understand what is said next but they all laugh out loud and I grip the tire iron in my hand. Assholes.I pull my legs back, and as the trunk is opened I kick out with all my might and connect my feet with a man’s face, knocking him to the ground. I jump out of the trunk and one man comes at me. I swing the tire iron as violently as I can and hit him hard in the head, watching as he falls away. The other men all laugh at their two friends on the ground. Another man comes at me and I swing the car jack as hard as I can and cut his face open. Then I run.As fast as I can, I run across the cement. It’s dark and we are in a parking lot that seems to be near the ocean. I can smell the sea and hear the seagulls. I run with two men chasing after me. I have no defense in these damn high-heeled shoes. They catch up with me easily and tackle me to the ground.“Get off me,” I scream as I fight and kick. One man hits me across the face and they struggle to contain me as I wrestle to get out of their grip. They are too strong.They drag me up from the ground, one on each arm, as I kick my legs out and wrestle to try and get away. They fight with me through the darkness, guiding me back to the car.One man has his t-shirt off and is holding it up against his face to try and stop the bleeding from my car jack attack and the other two men watch. One man is leaning on the car watching me intently.I glare at him and he smirks back.“Let me go!” I yell as I try to break the gorilla grip the two men have on me. I bend down and they struggle. I kick out again and connect with the man on my left, hitting his balls and he cries out and doubles over. The distraction lets me rip from the other man’s grip and I punch him hard in the face. The man who I hit with the tire jack comes to their aid and helps them hold me down.“You’re coming with us, bitch.”“She’s going to be fun to break in.” The man on my left laughs.“Fuck you!” I scream as I kick him in the balls again.He doubles over in pain and the man leaning against the car laughs out loud.My eyes glance over to him. He’s tall, scary looking, and the other men all seem to be looking to him for guidance. He’s calm and controlled, not like them. He’s clearly the alpha of the group.Their leader.He smirks as he watches me and lights a cigarette as if thinking and shakes his head.“I don’t have time for this shit.” He sighs.I kick out and connect with the other man’s shin, he cries out. “I’m going to fucking bash you in a minute, bitch.” He growls. “What are we fucking doing with her?” he yells at the man leaning on the car. “She’s out of fucking control.”The tall man takes a drag of his cigarette, his eyes dropping to my feet before rising back up. He smirks darkly. “Bring her.”I shake my head and start to fight. “Like fuck you will,” I scream as I kick out.His eyes hold mine, and he smiles darkly and takes another drag of his cigarette. He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my breasts.Fear runs through me. I start to go animalistic and fight like hell. “Get the cloth,” he says to the two the other man standing next to him. The guy disappears to the car and shuffles around as I fight and kick the two men on either side of me. He reappears with a black cloth and holds it over my face as I struggle with the two men who are holding me down. “No.” I scream as I try to move my head out of their reach. I can’t get away from the black cloth that smells like chemicals.I struggle.I fight.I feel faint.I lose consciousness.I wake as a wave of nausea rolls through my stomach and I go to wipe the perspiration from my forehead. I can’t move my arm.Huh? I pull my arm, but it won’t move, and I glance over my head to see it is tied to a post.I struggle and look down at my body. Horror dawns on me.Oh my God.I’m naked, spread-eagled and tied to a bed by my hands and feet.My eyes flicker nervously around the room as I try to focus. I see the tall man leaning up against a dresser in the corner, completely shirtless. He is looking through my wallet from my handbag.What the fuck?I start to struggle frantically. I have got to get out of here. I jiggle my whole body to try and loosen the ties. “What do you want?” I cry.He ignores me and pulls my licence from my wallet. He holds it up and reads it.“Roshelle Meyers,” he murmurs.“Get out of my things,” I snap.He glances up and smirks, walking towards me before he kneels next to me on the bed. “I have already been in your…” He hesitates and runs his fingers through my open sex and then puts them into his mouth. “Things,” he replies dryly, arching his brow.My eyes close. Oh God. I don’t remember.Shame fills me.“Let me go,” I whisper as tears escape and roll down my cheeks.His hand travels slowly up my torso. He cups my full breast and then bends and takes it in his mouth. “I like these,” he whispers into my breast. I screw up my face and shake my head. “Please… stop it. Please, I beg. What do you want? Let me go. You have had your fun.”He bites my nipple hard and I gasp in pain.“I haven’t started to have fun yet,” he whispers coldly.“Untie me. Please, untie me,” I beg.He shakes his head as he runs his fingers back toward my sex and slides them through my lubricated flesh. I’m wet. Have I had sex? “Did you…?” I hesitate. His dark eyes dance with delight. “My tongue did.”My eyes widen in horror.He bends and kisses my sex and I buck off the bed to try and get him off me.“I couldn’t help myself,” he whispers.  “A sweet smelling pussy tied open for my gaze is something that I can’t resist. You enjoyed it, by the way.”  He lies next to me on the bed and rests up on his elbow. He looks down at me as his hand slides back up my body to cup my breast. “Let’s get one thing straight.” He sneers.I turn my head away so I don’t have to look at him and he grabs my face and drags my eyes to meet his.“I’m the boss here.”I glare at him.“You do what I want, when I want.”“Like fuck I do,” I whisper angrily. He smiles an evil smile. “If what I want is my cock splitting your virginal ass in two… then that’s my call. Not fucking yours.”I swallow the fear in my throat as his cold eyes hold mine.“Go to Hell,” I whisper.“I’m the gate keeper of Hell, baby. Welcome home.”




Author Bio
Lover of her husband, children, words, chocolate and margaritas.When she is not writing her next novel, you will find her in a café drinking coffee with friends.Writing is her passion.
Books by T L Swan
Stanton AdoreStanton UnconditionalStanton CompletelyStanton BlissFind Me AlastarPlay Along


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Waiting to Fall by Alyson Reynolds

Title: Waiting to FallSeries: Waiting Duet #2Author: Alyson ReynoldsGenre: New Adult/Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Alyson ReynoldsRelease Date: May 16, 2017


Blurb
Finn Crawford never thought his life would change with one stupid dare. Or that he would make the mistake of taking things too far with his twin sister’s best friend. Now he’s fighting off an attraction he didn’t expect.

Cora Donovan doesn’t want a relationship, especially one with the guy who’s always been there for her when she needed it most. Just being in the same room as him makes her body heat up in ways she never thought possible.

There’s only one other thing that might stand in their way of being together, if they can actually figure out how to make it work. Neither of them want to hurt Olivia, and if they broke up, that’s exactly what would happen. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if love is worth the risk.

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Author Bio
Romance writer. Wife. Mother of two. Avid reader. Queen of multitasking.
Originally from the south, Alyson likes to incorporate what she knows into her books. She's lived not only on the east coast, but the west coast and a few places in between. Alyson loves sharing stories about her crazy family to anyone who will listen. Her guilty pleasures consist of coffee, country music, brunch, breaking the rules, and pedicures. And she will always be a daddy's girl.
When Alyson isn't chasing around her two kiddos, she's normally writing. Or reading. Her Kindle library is out of control. Alyson writes mainly contemporary novels and novellas with a bit of new adult mixed in.


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Fight For Me By Kaithlin Shepherd

Title:  Fight For MeAuthor:  Kaithlin ShepherdRelease Date:  April 22, 2017Genre: Contemporary Cowboy RomanceSeries:  Callaway Series #3
Cover Designer:  Claire Smith Publisher:  Hot Tree Publishing

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The responsible brother, John Callaway, spends most of his days locked away in his office, crunching numbers and placing orders. When a mysterious brunette rolls into town, he is immediately drawn to her. For a year, John has worked hard at earning her trust, hoping one day she’ll lower her walls enough to let him in.
Finally finding a home in Montana, Abby Johnson is the happiest she’s ever been working at the diner and spending time with the one person who’s shown her that good men exist. When her past catches up with her, Abby will have to trust the man she’s grown to care for to keep her safe, or she’ll risk losing everything.
Will her secret push John away or will Abby realize that love is always worth fighting for?

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Kaithlin Shepherd is the author of The Callaway Series, The Brass Series and The Saints and Sinners series. 
Born and raised in Canada by a working single mom and a loving grandmother, Kaithlin surrounded herself with novels by Danielle Steele and Nora Roberts provided by her grandmother. Kaithlin quickly fell in love with reading. It was in high school, thanks to an English teacher, that Kaithlin wrote her first story (although if you ask for it, she will deny ever writing it) about a popular boy band. Inspired by constructive criticism, Kaithlin spent some time developing her love affair with words through more reading than someone would think possible.
After pursuing a higher education, Kaithlin sat down with a pen and paper and decided to give writing a shot. With no false hope in mind, her first novel, Make Me Whole, slowly came to life. Putting fear and doubt aside, Kaithlin has published five books to date, and has eleven more set to be published in the next two years.
Fueled by coffee and a wild imagination, Kaithlin spends her days working her day job (we’ll leave you wondering) and her nights writing love stories with a little side of sexiness.

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On the Edge of Death By Ciara Ballintyne

Epic FantasyDate Published: 22 April 2017Publisher: Evolved publishing

All the Left Hand of Death wants is something to call her own, but is the price too high?
Ellaeva, the fated avatar of the death goddess, is desperate to track down her missing family but the trail is decades old. Instead, she discovers her battered and bloodied sister priestesses driven across the Jerreki border on pain of death. Ellaeva must turn aside from her personal quest to investigate the murders, only to find her parents have been taken into the heart of the conflict.
Lyram Aharris, favoured son of the royal line of Ahlleyn, is the only living person she trusts to help her infiltrate the enemy stronghold and uproot the horror they find there, but their chequered past threatens the mission. Accompanying him is his crown prince, the one man Lyram wants dead above all others.
Now Ellaeva must face down the darkness in her soul before a dark god is brought into the world.
At the boundary of life and death, all oaths will be tested. 


EXCERPT
Lyram leaned on the window casement, scouring the bustling courtyard of the royal palace of Ahlleyn below. Servants in the black and purple livery of the clan Gaylbrath strode confidently about their tasks, and his gaze skipped over them, looking for someone obviously out of place—looking for the crow amongst the sparrows. From this high, picking individual faces out of the crowd was impossible, but that didn’t stop him searching. He didn’t need a face to find the person he sought.Despite his failure to note anyone out of place, he knew there was at least one person in the palace who shouldn’t be there. He could feel it in his bones.“Lyram, you’re not listening to me.”Sighing, he turned, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded over his plaid. He regarded the duchess. “No, Narrawen, I’m not. I do apologise. What were you saying?”The Duchess of Kinrothen narrowed pale-blue eyes at him. She stood in the centre of his sitting room, an inner sanctum furnished by his late wife, and a place of solitude and reflection where he’d usually not permit the duchess. But, short of his bedchamber, this was the only room in his suite with a window. He needed to see the courtyard, and she’d insisted on speaking with him.“Never mind. You clearly have something else on your mind.” Then her voice grew teasing. “Perhaps something I could help with?“Lyram swallowed a long-suffering sigh. Narrawen, standing with her head cocked and one hand on a hip, was a fine figure of a woman, but she was also a schemer. Her kirtle, though made of expensive linen, was woven in the red, yellow and green tartan of her clan; she took every opportunity to wear it, as though reminding everyone she was their clan leader. Though women were accepted as equals in Ahlleyn, a woman heading a large warrior clan could experience certain… troublesome elements, and she carried a bow slung over her shoulder. A woman who would lead warriors must be a warrior, and she had the temperament to match the flaming red hair tumbling down her shoulders in unruly curls. Everything she did was calculated and planned, and there was no way he’d be sharing what was on his mind.“It’s nothing to trouble yourself over,” he said.“Oh, it would be no trouble to take a burden from your shoulders.” She stepped forward, closing the distance between them to place a hand on his arm.The heady aroma of eastern tuberose assaulted his nostrils, rich and sensual. She was tall, the top of her head on a level with his nose, and her breath tickled his clean-shaven chin. Her gaze held the resolute intensity of a woman accustomed to getting her way, sooner or later. She was beautiful, and in a way that went beyond her face and figure: she was fierce, determined, and intelligent.But when he looked at her, he saw only Ellaeva.Her brow pinched, as if reading something in his face, and he smoothed his expression.“You’ve been too long a widower,” she said.He started. “Eighteen months! That’s hardly too long.”She met his gaze with an intense expression, ignoring his protest. “And I’ve never married. We both need heirs.”He shook his head and tried to draw away, but she had him pinned between her wide skirts and the window. “You would merge two of the kingdom’s most powerful and influential duchies into one? The aristocracy will never stand for it. You already know my answer, Narrawen. I’m not interested in marrying—you or anyone else. It’s not personal, you understand?”She snorted in a most unladylike fashion and tossed her hair, like a wild horse tossing its mane. “You pay too little attention, Lyram. You’d be surprised what the aristocracy will allow now, after the fall of Traeburhn. Everyone’s been made nervous by his treason, especially the stripping of lands and titles. Besides, we need not merge the duchies. We could agree on a division of heirs.”“The risk of civil war—”She leaned closer, until only inches separated their faces. The heady smell of her perfume was almost intoxicating.“There are any number of men in this kingdom, and without, who would marry me,” she said. “Most for the wrong reasons. Few of them have my respect and admiration, but you do. What I need is a husband. What I want is you.”The door burst open, thumping against the wall.Narrawen jumped back, her bow clattering against the side table. A faint blush stained her cheeks.Lyram’s pulse quickened. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for.Everard stood framed by the sitting room’s doorway, his posture perfectly erect as he folded his hands neatly in front of his sporran. As always, he was clad in scrupulous court attire, his rank pinned to the shoulder of his white shirt and his kilt falling in perfect pleats. His thinning grey hair had been meticulously combed, and his wire-framed glasses perched precariously on his nose. He kept his face blank, but a small twitch beside his eye betrayed his displeasure at the duchess’s presence. “Sir.”Though Everard’s tone was even, Lyram read the tension and urgency in him. “I know, Everard. I’ll come.”“A prior engagement, Lyram?” Narrawen said. “Whatever it is, reschedule it. We’re not done.”Lyram opened his mouth to countermand the order—though she outranked him, how dare she presume to order his aide-de-camp?But Everard’s gaze flickered to her with that same inscrutability, and in his perfectly deadpan aide’s voice he said, “Is Your Grace still chasing a husband? Perchance I can suggest a better hunting ground.”Narrawen grew rigid, and Lyram suppressed a grin.“The duchess and I can finish our conversation later,” Lyram said. “I’ll come, Everard.”“No, sir—” Everard blinked, jerking aside as though pinched, and Ellaeva stepped into the room.The shock of seeing her thrilled through him, like the mixed pleasure of an unexpectedly warm spring day, tainted by fording a stream running with snowmelt. Though he’d felt her jump suddenly from the far east to well within Ahlleyn borders several days ago, though he’d felt her drawing nearer by the day, he hadn’t realised she was here, outside the room. And no amount of time could have prepared him for this moment.Their gazes locked. Her black eyes were flat and cold. In his head, the sense of her abruptly clenched into the hard glass ball that said she was trying to control or hide her feelings. That connection was the unintended legacy of his resurrection at her hand, but she’d grown better at controlling it. Then her gaze flickered to Narrawen, standing so close alongside him, and the glass ball shattered into a thousand shards with an impact so visceral he gasped and sat down. The chill in the air deepened.She switched her stare back to Lyram. Finally, she spoke, in a voice cold as iron. “I have come to see Alagondar.”

About the Author
Ciara Ballintyne grew up on a steady diet of adult epic fantasy from the age of nine, leaving her with a rather confused outlook on life – she believes the good guys should always win, but knows they often don’t. She is an oxymoron; an idealistic cynic. Her debut work is Confronting the Demon, and In the Company of the Dead is her first book to be published with Evolved Publishing. She holds degrees in law and accounting, and is a practising financial services lawyer. In her spare time, she speculates about taking over the world.
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In the End by Ariadne Wayne

Title: In the EndSeries: Lifetime #3Author: Ariadne WayneGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: April 20, 2017


Blurb
The time has come for Finn to find out the truth about his father. When he seems to take it in his stride, Matt, Ella, and Sam are relieved. But nothing’s that simple when you’re seven years old.

Sam’s love life has been on hold while he gets to know his son. Meeting single mother, Natasha, rocks his world. She’s not had an easy life and he has to navigate through her past to make her see a future. The one thing that scares her, Sam’s guilty of. Love’s never easy, especially when there are secrets involved.

The last book in the Lifetime series features a boy finding out about his father, a father falling in love, and the last wedding you’d ever expect on the farm.

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Author Bio
Ariadne Wayne is the alter ego of Wendy Smith. She loves books and lives in Auckland, New Zealand with her husband and two children. Having always had a prolific imagination she now writes the words down instead of storing them in her head where she can't share them. When she's not writing she works in Telecommunications, frequently banging her head on the desk with the random things that can happen to the ordinary phone line.


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Almost Never by Amy Lamont

Title: Almost NeverAuthor: Amy LamontGenre: New Adult/Contemporary RomanceCover Design: Talina Perkins, Bookin’ It DesignsRelease Date: July 11, 2017


Blurb
Son of an aging rock star, Declan Cooper is considered royalty on the Warren College campus. When he meets petite freshman Harper Warden, he dismisses her as just another groupie. He realizes his mistake pretty quickly, but despite his near-obsession with the premed student, he keeps his distance. The last thing she needs is the notoriety that comes along with being connected to his infamous family.

Getting blown off by the sexy and popular King of Campus is the kiss of death for the new life Harper hoped to make for herself at college. Her only goal now is to get into medical school so she can leave her past, and Declan Cooper, far behind. But when the plans Harper made are threatened, Declan might be the only person who can help. All she has to do is trust him with a few small things—like her heart and her future.

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Amy Lamont is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes steamy contemporary and paranormal romance filled with quirky heroines, alpha heroes, and always a happily ever after. Whether she’s writing about world-weary billionaires or rugged bear shifters, she loves nothing more than delivering stories with just as much heart as heat. 
Amy lives in a small town outside of New York City with her husband, twin daughters and their two rescue mutts, Maggie and Toby. When she’s not writing or hiding somewhere with her nose stuck in her eReader, she loves spending time with her family, taking in shows in the city, and traveling every chance she gets.


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Fox by S.M. Lumetta

Title: FoxAuthor: S.M. Lumetta
Series: Bodhi Beach #1 (Standalone)Genre: Romantic ComedyCover Design: S.M. Lumetta
Release Date: April 17, 2017


Blurb
What’s a little sex between friends?

Sophie Fordham never thought much about motherhood until her body forced her to. With the onset of early menopause, she knows if she wants to have a baby, it’s now or never. So what’s a single, financially-strapped girl to do? Go with what you know, of course.

Fox Monkhouse has been Sophie’s gorgeous best friend since preschool. This sun-kissed surfer boy has no shortage of ladies, but she’s hoping he’ll put that aside to help her out. As there’s never been anything romantic between the two, things get awkward when she asks him to put a bun in her oven—especially since it has to be done the old-fashioned, no-pants dance way.

When Fox agrees to do the deed, Sophie is ecstatic. But she soon realizes that this chance at a baby could cost her everything. Keeping sex and emotions separate is clearly not in her wheelhouse especially when her best friend is involved. If their relationship can’t evolve into something new, their unusual arrangement could destroy the friendship of a lifetime.

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Excerpt
Chapter 1
The Diagnosis: “It’s menopause.”
Laughing. All the laughing. Until Doctor Beaufort looks at me like I’ve cracked. I stop myself and swallow. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s menopause’?”
“Sophie, your symptoms and test results point to perimenopause. Your estrogen levels have been a little all over the place, and with your erratic cycle, it’s extremely likely that early menopause has begun.”
I’m glad I’m not drinking or eating because I would have choked. Oh, scratch that—I’m choking on my own spit. It’s so great that I don’t even need to put anything in my mouth to choke.
The studio audience in my head reacts on cue, complete with cheering and lewd gestures.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, my throat on fire as I cough roughly. I sound like a veteran smoker. Or maybe even like I’ve moved past that into voice box territory.
My doctor finally notices my insta-panic and waves her hands in front of her face. “That is to say it could be.”
I gasp, hacking up a lung for good measure and in hoping I heard her wrong. “But… I’m twenty-eight.”
This is where the audience supports my outrage with a sharp gasp followed by a dead silence.
Doctor Beaufort smiles, her teeth blindingly white next to her dark skin, but it does not comfort me. “I’m aware of your age,” she says with humor. “But I’m pretty sure this is premature menopause. It can hit women as young as their early twenties, though it’s rare.”
I stare at her, my mouth agape but still trying to form a word or two. All that comes out, though, is “buh buh buh… buhhh.”
For all the erratic and weird symptoms for the past six, maybe eight months, I never even considered this a possibility. Ever since I dumped that life-suck Brett, I blamed everything—from cycle woes to crazy unusual mood swings and a bout or three of awful night sweats—on stress and the breakup. Though the first missed period caused a different kind of nightmare. Or as my best friend Nora put it, The Pregnancy Panic Heard ’Round the World.
Dr. Beaufort is talking, but my brain is white noise. I’m forced to shake my head a bit to tune back in.
“Twenty-eight is certainly not common either but it’s not unheard of,” she continues, oblivious to my dumbstruck noises—or maybe because of them. “And it’s not immediate. As you probably know, menopause itself is a process. It can take years to complete itself. So you may still have time to have a child if that’s in your life plan! Many women going through menopause have a ‘oops’ baby.”
“Baby?” I ask, and I sound like I’ve never heard of them. I flash back to The Scare and for a quick second, wonder if that wouldn’t have been a blessing. Jesus, no. Then I’d be attached to Brett forever. I shudder. My credit score is still in the toilet because of him. That’s more than enough of a legacy and intrusion on my life.
My resulting silence stretches out before the both of us, but not because I have nothing to say or ask. It’s mostly because I find that I cannot speak.
“Sophie?” Dr. B begins, and I think she asks me a question, but it sounds like I’m underwater.
I have sudden trouble focusing and feel my body sway. The room leans into a cartwheel and everything goes black.
***
When I wake, I’m happy to find I did not, in fact, fall off the “spread and swipe” table after all. However, a nurse holds my legs up toward the ceiling. Dr. Beaufort hands me a paper bag.
“I’m not hyperventilating, Dr. B,” I murmur, pushing the bag away. I sound drunk. Great. Maybe I had a stroke, too? That would be a tasty cherry on top of this shit sundae. “I choked and then I freaked out.”
I’m well aware of my dramatic tendencies. At times. Occasionally. When it suits me.
“You passed out,” she says simply, no judgment. “Do you feel light-headed?”
I do a mental check. “I’m good.” Sitting up slowly and with assistance, I notice the nurse is my oldest friend in the world, Fox Monkhouse.
“What the fuck?” I try to kick him, but it comes across like the death throes of an extremely long, uncoordinated fish. “I’m commando, Fox! Shouldn’t there be a female nurse in here?”
The attempted kick seems even more foolish now. I pull my hospital gown tight in the back and slap my thighs together to hide my cooter.
“Mr. Monkhouse was just outside when you fainted. And he has a master’s in nursing,” Dr. B adds, unaware that I’m familiar with his qualifications. Even so, that doesn’t mean I want him all up in my lady biz. “He’s a professional.”
“Yeah, but a professional what is debatable,” I say.
He breaks into a huge grin.
Jerk. “What are you even doing here? You work at Shoreline!”
Fox rubs the corner of his eye with his middle finger. “Same hospital network,” he says, faux professionalism oozing everywhere. “They needed a floater today.” He makes an incredibly immature face behind Dr. Beaufort’s back as I try desperately not to crack up at “floater.” His immaturity rubs off too often for my own good. A few instances of which flit through my mind. The facial expressions that result are likely horrifying. I’m glad I cannot see my face right now.
“Are you all right, Sophie?” she asks, looking at me with concern. “I take it you and Fox are friends.”
I fake a cough and clear my throat. “Fine. And yes, I guess you could say we’re friends.”
Fox snorts, tucking a stray sun-kissed curl behind his ear. The rest of his shoulder-length blond hair is tied back. “I’ve known Sophie since we were… I’m not sure, five?”
“Four,” I correct, just to be a bitch. He rolls his eyes, and I smile. “When my family moved in down the block, I hadn’t started preschool yet.”
“Oh, right. We bonded over the ice-cream man.”
“Rocket Pops.”
“Ohh,” he moans, damn near orgasmically. Dr. Beaufort shoots him a look, but he’s not paying attention. “I loved those.”
“It’s basically frozen sugar and food coloring,” Dr. B throws in her two cents. “It’s—”
“Don’t crap on my childhood, Beaufort,” he snaps jokingly, but realizes his place with an “oh shit” expression. “I mean, yes, doctor. Sorry. Yes, of course. You are totally correct.”
The idiot pauses to clear his throat. I catch Dr. B minutely shake her head in what I assume is exasperation. I completely understand where she’s coming from. After an awkward beat, he picks up where he left off.
“Anyway, Sophie wouldn’t go to school unless I was in the same class. She needed me.”
“He was held back,” I add. “Started preschool at seven.”
Fox coughs, “Asshole!”
Dr. B rolls her eyes before looking at me. “I stand corrected on the professionalism. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m good, Dr. B,” Fox says.
“I’m okay,” I say at the same time. At least, I’m okay where the fainting is concerned. The rest is still pretty sketchy.
“Good,” she says, eyeballing Fox with a sliver of a smile on her face. She pats me on the shoulder and tells me to get dressed. “We can chat more in my office before you go. Mr. Monkhouse, let the patient dress, please?”
“I will,” he says with a nod. She smiles as she walks out.
“Did you sleep with her? Or are you trying?” I ask him.
“I don’t shit where I eat,” he says.
“Oh, really?” My eyebrows jump for my hairline as my eyes drill into him my blatant disbelief.
“She’s twenty years older than me!”
I tilt my head, waiting. He’s holding out. He knows damn well he’s nailed a colleague or two well into their forties. Such as… “Rita?”
His mouth drops open, his dual-colored eyes going wide. Thanks to his scrubs, the green one shifts to blue-green or turquoise like the ocean and the hazel one looks golden. I still marvel at how strange yet beautiful they are.
“Wow, pulling out the stops,” he says. “Fine, I have cleaned up on the nurse aisle before, and a couple docs, but I’ve learned my lesson. It gets ugly.” He opens the door and stops. “Get dressed.”
I wait for him to close the door behind him before I peel off the gown and put on my clothes.
“Why’d you faint?” he asks when I get out into the hall. He’d clearly waited just outside.
I lightly punch his arm, noting a slight sunburn on his nose. Someone went surfing this morning and forgot his sunblock. “Don’t you have actual work to do, stalker?”
“Not at this very moment.” He looks around. “So what’s up? Are you okay?”
“Low blood sugar,” I lie. It feels gross, especially given his sincerity. I never lie to my best friends. “Forgot to eat this morning.”
“Forgetting to eat? That’s not like you.” Likely sensing my bullshit, he steps a little closer. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
I’m warmed by his concern, but I’m not yet ready to discuss anything. Time to redirect.
“Are you calling me fat, Monkhouse?” I like giving him shit. Not to mention, I’m quite comfortable in my own skin. At five foot nine, I’m pretty lanky with the exception of a bit of a bubble butt that popped out when I was in college.
“Always, Porky.”
An elderly woman walks by at that very moment. She stops to spit at him and expresses her extreme outrage on my behalf. “Horrible man! You want me to crush his man business?” she asks me, holding up her cane, which has flames painted on it.
“Um,” I stammer. I pretend to think about it while Fox’s eyes grow wide.
He purses his lips as if to say, “be serious!”
I turn back to my savior. “That’s very tempting, thank you. But I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?” Harley Quinn’s grandma doesn’t buy it, and is clearly looking to dole out a beatdown. Maybe she got bad news today, too.
“Totally.” Leaning toward her, I cup a hand by my mouth to offer an aside. “I have it on excellent authority that his dangle isn’t exactly swinging in the breeze, if you know what I mean.”
She nods knowingly and threatens Fox with her badass cane one more time before walking away.
“Wow,” I say after she turns the corner. “That was like tenth grade all over again.”
In high school, I struggled to keep on weight because my metabolism was pretty high. Some incredibly rude people called me “Rexy,” so Fox would call me “Chubs” in protest. He got in loads of trouble because the perceptive teachers of Bodhi Beach High assumed I was, in fact, anorexic and Fox was bullying me. Since the actual name-callers were girls, that slipped right under their radar. Fox, however, was loud and proud about it. It was a hell of a mess, but in the end, it was just my friend sticking up for me in his own poorly thought-out, controversial way, as per usual.
“I’ve never been threatened with the official cane of the Hells Angels before,” he says, wiping the spit off his scrubs.
“Go back to work,” I say with a giggle. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“You coming to the barbecue this Saturday?” he calls after me. “It’s my birthday, you know.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, old timer. Is the bonfire going to be legal this time?” I wink. Fox’s house is on the beach. It was his grandpa’s and he inherited it, the lucky prick.
“Of course not!” He rethinks his volume. “I mean, yes. Yes, it is. Bring beer. Oh, and is your brother coming?” he asks.
“You know, I haven’t talked to Cameron in a few. Seems like he’s been a little incommunicado, according to my mom. I don’t see how he’d miss it though.”
Fox nods. “Well, I hope he can make it! Tell him to come in drag because I want to motorboat him again. I don’t know where he got those falsies, but they were super comfortable to stick my face in.”
I perform the expected eye-roll followed by an about-face toward Dr. Beaufort’s office. “See you then, perv,” I call.
“Takes one to know one!”
***
After a more in-depth conversation with Dr. B, I’m not very good anymore. I may only have one good year of fertility if I want to conceive a baby without assistance. Or I could have five years, maybe more, but even that’s hard to say. Menopause is not only hard to predict, but makes my cycle erratic, which heavily lends to the odds against me. I thought I wanted kids but I’m hella single at present. It’s been eight months since I dumped Brett, and after that debacle, the “do I want kids” question is, well, questionable. With my new and the-opposite-of-improved timeline, I’m forced to address an issue I should have had more than a decade to consider.
Freezing some eggs is supposedly a legit option as I’m otherwise healthy and a good candidate for it. “But I wouldn’t wait,” Dr. B had said, stressing the point that I might not have very long to decide. “Think about it. You have a little time, but don’t think too long. Before you know it, it could be too late.”
I told her I didn’t have to think. I don’t have tens of thousands of dollars to plunk down on iced egg-os. Thanks to Brett’s bullshit and my stupid trusting heart, I loaned him the money to start his deejay business. I blame blind lust.
I ended up charging a bunch of stuff, which the imbecile sold for cash to blow at the bookie’s. Turned out, he didn’t want to start a business, just further a secret gambling habit. My credit took a nosedive along with our relationship. I’m still wading out of the debt he helped create and I have no money left to take out a hit. Where’s the justice?
I have my grandma’s 1967 Mustang convertible that’s worth a little money, but she’s not all original or in the greatest shape. I’d also need much deeper, unindebted pockets to pay for the work needed to make her a showstopper. I can’t imagine parting with it to pay shit off for my stupidity.
With all this on my shoulders, I sit in my not-very-cherry classic Mustang convertible in the parking garage and cry. And cry. And cry until I’m thoroughly dehydrated and have a mark from the steering wheel on my forehead. The setting sun is piercing directly through the structure when I come up for air.
It’s well past rush hour, and there shouldn’t be much in the way of gridlock left on the 405. So there’s that.



Author Bio
S.M. Lumetta was born in Detroit, MI, and now resides in NYC. Since she was small, she has adored storytelling in all its forms, especially books and films. Sooner and later, she figured out that since her love of words was overwhelming, she had no choice but to take the words in mind and share them. Romance is her favorite read, but horror and crime novels are a close second. She loves to travel and has a bucket list of places to visit long enough for several lifetimes. She also has a plethora of unnecessary t-shirts, a penchant for sarcasm, and a unholy love for the oxford comma.

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