Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 288

The Geisha With the Green Eyes By India Millar

Historical Romance
Release Date - August 16, 2016

By 1850, Japan had been closed to the outside world for centuries.  It was a secret, hidden world.  And deep within Edo (now Tokyo) was Yoshiwara − “The Floating World.”  The center of pleasure. And within Yoshiwara was the Hidden House. The place that only the very wealthiest could afford.  The place where the geisha were…special.
And in the Hidden House lived Midori No Me. Half Japanese, half foreign Barbarian, born captivity. She was trained to dedicate her life to serving the wealthiest men in Japan. Defiled at 13 when her virginity was sold to the highest bidder. Possessed by the greatest actor in the Kabuki theater.  Stolen by the most powerful Yakuza in Edo.
The geisha who escaped from the Floating World.
The Geisha with the Green Eyes.


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EXCERPT


The birds on my roof
Fly away. Would that I
Could follow.
Carpi had collected me and taken me to the bathhouse earlier that afternoon. She had supervised critically as the maids poured hot water over me, soaped me from head to foot, and rinsed time and again until she was satisfied. Eventually, she had discarded her own kimono and gestured at me to climb into the bath with her, even grudgingly allowing me to help her climb down the rather slippery steps.Both of us stood chin deep in the hot water. Within seconds, my skin had turned lobster red from the unrelenting heat. Carpi sighed luxuriantly, stretched, and turned to stare at me.“Anything you need to know?”I shook my head. In my stupidity, I had no idea what questions even to ask. What was there to know, I wondered? Auntie had already explained to me what was to happen. When my danna arrived, he would be taken to the bathhouse and would be bathed carefully by the maids. Once he was ready, he would proceed to the Hidden House itself and would be plied with sake by Auntie prior to the feast. Carpi, Kiku, and Masaki would enter the room with me. Naruko, still being a maiko, would follow later on her own. We would all bow to my danna and would sit at his command. Food would be brought in when he requested it. Masaki would probably be chosen to play the samisen. Kiku and Carpi would flirt politely with my danna. We would all eat and drink, at his signal.At this stage, nothing would be expected of me except to sit and giggle at any witticism he might make. I could look at him with reverent adoration, of course, and if he wanted me to dance or play the samisen or sing, I could do so, but not unless he asked.Either when Auntie thought the time was right or my danna became impatient for his money’s worth and made it clear that he wished us to be alone, Auntie would stand and she and the other girls would make their farewells. The maids would clear away the dishes and charcoal burners and bring in the bedding to change the room from a banqueting hall to a bedroom.Then my mizuage would begin.Although at least in principle we would be alone, I was well aware that Auntie would be outside the room, somewhere very close. She would certainly be able to hear everything. Knowing Auntie, I would guess that she would make sure that she could also see everything as well. I could only pray that she was alone and had not invited some favored patron to watch my deflowering. I would never know if she had, of course, but the thought made me feel sick.Satisfied that we were clean, Carpi scrambled out of the bath, leaving me to follow. The maids dried us carefully, and then Carpi hustled me off to her room to attend to my makeup.I was used to the thick, white makeup required of a maiko, but today’s was even more concealing than usual. I suppressed a hysterical giggle as I wondered if my danna would even recognize me underneath the coating.Carpi sat me down on the matting and pursed her lips as she looked at the assortment of jars and bottles set out on the tatami.“Sit still,” she commanded. I nodded, without thinking, and got a brisk slap from her left foot as a reward for daring to move.I hated Carpi touching me anywhere, but especially on my face. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend it was Kiku, or Auntie, who was dabbing at my skin. It didn’t work, I still felt slightly sick. But I kept still, as instructed.Carpi nodded at the bottle of camellia oil and the maid picked it up quickly, patting the oil on my face and neck and then rubbing it in gently. None of the incredibly expensive courtesan’s nightingale dung face cream for me! It was said – by those who could afford it – that the potions made from nightingale dung lightened and brightened the skin like nothing else could. I was grateful I wasn’t rich enough for it be used on me. The thought of rubbing unguent made from bird droppings into my skin did nothing for my queasy stomach. Satisfied that my skin was ready, Carpi grunted and the maid stepped back but hovered nearby, ready for Carpi’s commands.Carpi leaned forward, a tiny bottle clasped between her finger and thumb. With the other fingers, she pried my eyelids wide apart. The bottle was tipped slowly toward my eye, and a single drop of thick liquid dripped out. It felt icy cold and stung. The action was repeated with my other eye. Within a minute, everything at any distance became blurred. I blinked.“It’s a distillation made from a flower,” Carpi said briskly. “Don’t worry, it will wear off by morning. In the meantime, it makes your pupils look huge. I think it makes your eyes look even more green, if that’s possible.”She sat back on her haunches and nodded in evident satisfaction. The pink undercoating came next. Carpi put that on herself, and I closed my eyes as I felt her touch, trying not to squirm. A white topcoat followed, brushed on quickly before it could set. For one insane moment, I thought about telling Carpi that I would do it myself, but my tongue refused to speak the words and I simply sat mute, suffering her touch.I heard her grunt with satisfaction and I opened my lips and drew a deep breath.Rouge followed, highlighting my cheeks. In spite of the fact that my eyes were tightly shut, Carpi snapped at me to keep them closed as she puffed white powder on my eyebrows and eyelids. My own eyebrows were hidden completely by the powder and I could feel Carpi’s breath on my face as she leaned forward to draw my new brows in place. Red paint first, then black over the top, with just the tiniest hint of red allowed to show through. “Open,” Carpi said, and I hurriedly opened my eyes, trying not to blink in the sudden light. With the tiniest of brushes, she outlined my eyes with red, which was – like my brows – then covered in black. “Pout.” In a second or two, my lips were bright red. Carpi sat back to consider her work and nodded. “You’ll do. You can still tell you’re a Barbarian, but then again I suppose that’s what your danna is paying for. Put your head back.”I did as I was told and Carpi took up the large brush again to stroke the white paste over my throat and bosom, down as far as my undergarment. I turned automatically, praying that I was getting it right.Finally, she gestured for me to turn around and painted me from my shoulders to my hairline at the nape of my neck, leaving only a strip of my own flesh showing down my spine. Japanese men find the nape of the neck to be especially erotic, often more so than a woman’s breasts, so this piece of painting had to be correct.Finally satisfied, Carpi nodded at the maid to bring me a mirror. I stared into its depths wonderingly. Was this really me? Was this painted, anonymous doll that looked back at me from the mirror truly my own face? Fascinated, I reached up to touch my cheeks and got a sharp hiss from Carpi for my trouble.“Don’t you dare! Do you really think I’ve gone to all that trouble for you to mess it up?”I mumbled my apologies.“Come on. Let’s get you dressed.”I stood, naked and still pink from the heat of the bath, as Carpi shouted at the maids to get me properly dressed.First, the tabi socks. I felt clumsy, and it took an age for the maid to get my big toe properly inserted in the divided sock. I remember laughing the first time I saw a Western sock and thinking it strange that there was no separate place for the big toe. Did foreign Barbarians not have a separate big toe, I wondered. But on that day I would have given a great deal for a pair of Western socks; they would have been so very much easier. Carpi tutted at my clumsiness, and I was suddenly all thumbs.The maid helped me into the red-patterned undershirt and skirt and tied them around with a waist tie to keep them in place. A wide under sash followed. Then my lovely, silken kimono.This was the first time I had seen it, and it was quite beautiful. Auntie had gone for simplicity – green silk with a subtle pattern of intricate embroidery in a slightly lighter shade. Whether the color choice was to enhance my eyes or was a play on my name, I had no idea. All I knew was that the kimono was by far the most beautiful thing I had ever owned. At that moment, I didn’t even care that I would spend the rest of my working life paying for it, and all the kimonos that were to follow. It was mine!The maid slipped it around me, patting the right side under the left, and closing it off with another waist tie. An under sash followed, and then a wide obi that went around my waist twice with a knot tied at the back and the ends of the obi sash brought around to the front where they were tied off so tightly I had to fight to draw a deep breath.And that was it. I was dressed. I was ready.I looked at Carpi, desperate for her approval.She rose and stretched lazily, walking around me. She pushed and tugged at the obi and tweaked my kimono at the neck. I stood stock still, trying not to show my distaste. Finally, to my relief, she shrugged.“Your breasts are still far too big, even in the kimono.” I looked down at myself. She was right, they were. “And we can’t do anything at all about you being so tall. No, don’t slump. It just makes your breasts look even bigger. Your nose is too big, as well. And as for your eyes! Never mind. Your danna knows what he’s getting.”From anybody else, the words would have been heartbreakingly rude, but from Carpi, they were simply matter of fact. No one, of course, would ever have dared make the same sort of comment to her. As if she had read my mind, she added, “We are all the same, here in the Hidden House. All of us are wrong.”From Carpi, it was almost a comfort.The feast was spread out on the tatami mats. The feast must have cost my danna a huge amount, not to mention the fee for me, of course. The matting was full and overflowing with dishes, grilled squid, seaweed, fruit, noodles of every description, beef, and – dominating everything – a huge platter of fugu fish, sliced so thinly that when it was picked up, you could see right through it. Teruki-san gestured at me munificently and I picked up a slice of the fish, bowing my head in gratitude for his generosity, although really I could never see a great deal in the stuff. It could, of course, kill you if it had not been prepared very well, but the only thing it did to me was to make my lips slightly numb.I ate as slowly as I could, as if by doing so I could put off the moment when the food would be finished and Teruki-san decided the time had come to get his money’s worth. The screens had been pushed back to make a large, twelve-mat room so that there was plenty of space for all of us. Auntie had taken her place at the side of my danna and was leaning toward him, chuckling richly at some witticism he had made. I was flanked on each side by Carpi and Kiku, both dressed in their best kimonos and obi. As Teruki-san glanced at Kiku, she shook out her fan and retreated behind it, tittering politely. Even though Kiku’s eyes were almost hidden in folds of fat, they really were remarkably beautiful, perfectly almond-shaped and gleaming with a light that seemed to come from some source that only Kiku was aware of. Teruki-san beamed at her and shook his finger roguishly. I wondered how much sake he had drunk before he had come to us; already he was making inroads on his second flask, and even as I thought about it he glanced at his cup and held it out. Masaki reached out and plucked the flask from the charcoal burner to refill it for him. A maid immediately placed another flask into another warming vessel to be sure it would be ready when he needed it. With great dignity, Teruki-san gestured at Masaki to fill a cup for me. Taking his gesture as a signal, Auntie curled her fingers at me urgently, flicking me forward with her fingers. My legs were trembling so hard I knew that standing would be beyond my power, and so I shuffled forward on my knees, my head tucked down. Teruki-san seemed to like this, as he applauded and nodded.As I approached, Masaki turned to Teruki-san and bowed, presenting the cup she had filled for me to him. With what I guessed was drunken dignity, he grasped the cup and took three deliberate, rather noisy sips. Auntie smiled widely. She leaned forward and took the cup from him, presenting it to me. In my turn, I took three careful sips, which emptied the cup.Unsure what to do next, I simply remained crouching, clutching the cup in my fingers. It seemed to me that silence fell, and that everybody was staring at me. I will not speak of what followed again.It is done, and what is done can never be undone, no more than time can be turned back. I will never be a maiko again. Never an innocent. But at least I will never have to suffer another mizuage.

Unintentional: North American Edition

 Titles: Unintentional: North American Edition & International EditionGenre: Friends-to-Lovers Contemporary RomanceCover Designer: RMGraphxPublisher: Hot Tree Publishing* * * Unintentional: North American Edition
Their eyes had met a thousand times, their smiles always easy and honest. All it takes is that one moment for everything to change. When their eyes are opened, no longer does "just friends" seem good enough.
Authors:1. Amy K. McClung2. Vanessa Morse3. Gabbi Grey4. S. Hartley5. Dahlia Donovan6. Lindsay Detwiler7. Randi Perrin:8. Gen Ryan* * * Unintentional: International Edition
Fall in love with Unintentional: International Edition, a collection of nine friends-to-lovers HEA stories by nine amazing international authors. Happy ever afters really do come true.
Authors:1. Eva King2. Michelle Irwin3. A.L. Simpson4. Aria Peyton5. Megan Lowe6. Ashlea Rhodes7. Becca L'Amour8. Louisa Masters9. Gaeille Vanderspek * * * THE TUES-DATE - Vanessa MorseThrough the years, Adam and Tara have grown to depend on each other and share a love deeper than either is willing to admit. Roommates, best friends, unmistakable soulmates... until one day, one date everything changes.
WHERE SHE BELONGS- Lindsay Detwiler
When Emeline Jackson's life plans crumble, her best friend Brent helps her rediscover herself in their hometown. She didn't come home to find love, but a lot can change in a summer.
JUST WHAT I NEED - Randi Perrin 
It started out innocent enough, one friend lending a shoulder for the other to cry on. But when Brad wakes up next to Jules the following morning, it stirs an awakening in him, and he’ll go to great lengths to prove she’s everything he needs.
CARESSA'S HOMECOMING - Gabbi Grey 
When Caressa comes home from volunteering as a nurse in Africa, she knows she will reunite with her friend Michael. What she doesn't expect is just how much he missed her and how glad he is that she's finally home.
PATIENCE - S. Hartley 
Patience is more than just a song to Madison—it's what her rocker best friend has given her for years. Finally ready to be more than friends, will Cale have any left give?
BENEFITS WITH FRIENDS - Amy K McClung 
Zoey makes the ultimate request of her best friend Rex. Though she never imagined the impact it would have on their relationship.
ALWAYS AND FOREVER - Gen Ryan
Hadley and Todd have always been there for each other, especially through their countless dead-end relationships. Will they both finally accept they are destined to be each other's always and forever?
ALL LATHERED UP - Dahlia Donovan 
Vi has known her best friend, Geoff, since childhood, though growing up meant being separated by distance and decisions. Neither realizes the impact exchanging postcards will have on their growing feelings. Could it be love?
* * * YOU NEVER KNOW - Aria PeytonWhen Miranda comes home engaged from a cruise, it doesn't take long for her bestie, Scott, to realise he feels something more for her. Will he get a chance to tell her or is he too late?
SEALED WITH A LOVING KISS - Ashlea Rhodes 
Letters of hope and love help Alex through his darkest days and bring him closer to Heather, and a friendship and love that could last a lifetime.
TAKE A SHOT - Michelle Irwin 
Holly thinks Logan is cute and sweet, much like a little brother. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself, will he take a shot to convince her he's no longer the kid she's looked out for since high school?
MIXED SIGNALS - A.L. Simpson 
Best friends turn to each other in good times and bad. Can Piper help Dalton through tragedy or has their friendship been shattered?
JUST LIKE ALWAYS - Megan Lowe
When your best friend needs support, there's no hesitation in being there for her. It's also the perfect opportunity to let her know exactly how good things could be.
LOST WITHOUT YOU- Becca L'Amour
When your one chance at love leaves you torn in two, only memories remain. Can Anastasia and Jason's friendship and new-found love be repaired to what it once was?
TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF ONLINE DATING - Louisa Masters 
Samantha turns to online dating to meet a man who'll make her heart beat faster, but it's her best friend —and friend with benefits—Levi who's there for her when dates go bad. Has her friendship with Levi become more than she thought?
CLAIMED AND BRANDED - Gaeille Vanderspek
Heart sore from watching her best friend tangled up in endless scandals with no-good women, Vicki Edwards decides to move to New York and start over. But Jared is determined to make her stay, and he's not afraid to play dirty.
FROM THE START - Eva King 
Two old friends reunite under dramatic circumstances. Will the prison walls tear them apart or will they make their relationship stronger?

FEATHER LIGHT by Lorenz Font

FEATHER LIGHTbyLorenz Font Official genre of book: Erotic Contemporary Romance



Parker Davis has conquered three major American cities and is the new ‘it’ man in massage. He earned the nickname ‘Feather Light’ for his sensual touches, tender caresses, and soft voice eliciting an almost orgasmic release. Clients from all over clamor for his services, and his clientele are growing by the minute. Business is at its peak, which makes Parker a busy man who has no time to deal with problems, let alone dwell on his blindness. With his declining vision, Parker has to accept his limitations and the changes brought forth by this disease, but he is not ready to relinquish the last control he has left. He is still the master in his bedroom. Kelly Storm, a Hollywood actress, will do whatever it takes to get some much-deserved peace. Being famous has its perks, except the little privacy her popularity afforded her is slowly eating at her. With the paparazzi hounding her every minute of the day and her personal life under constant scrutiny, Kelly wants a semblance of normalcy wherever she can get it. Under the urging of a close friend, she agrees give Parker a try.

Their first meeting is nothing she expects. Kelly finds comfort in his gentle probing and the spellbinding experience guaranteed to keep her coming back for more. Parker knows the woman on his table is special. He feels her vulnerability with his fingertips, and her smooth curves leave a burning ache inside him.

One night of steamy passion is all it takes to know that they wanted each other in more ways than one. Kelly hides in heavy disguises, making it impossible for Parker to know her true identity. What secret is Kelly keeping, and will she trust Parker enough to tell him the truth? Will Parker see beyond Kelly’s lies to show her what a future with him holds?



He settled next to her, touching the contour of her body before he straddled her. “I don’t hesitate. Believe me, I want to take you, but there are few rules I want you to know first.”

“Rules?” There was a slight tremor in her voice.

He nodded and focused on the round shape he believed was her face. He lowered himself close enough to get the feel of her body underneath him. “You don’t ask what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, you will give me a word you don’t say very often.”

“A word? What for?”

“Because I will make love to you the way I know how.”

Another round of erratic breathing followed. “Um . . . what kind of word do you want me to use?”

“It’s called a safeword. Anything out of the ordinary—something you don’t normally use. It can even be a name.” He let his lips graze along her cheek, getting familiar with her scent. He felt her shudder, and she clasped her arms around his neck.


✯✯✯✯✯Excellent DramaBy Dee ArcherWow! A beautiful story of facing fears, overcoming rejection & loss and finding sweet love. I found it so interesting to be inside the head of one physically blind and to experience his fears, frustrations, anger and despair.Parker & Kelly were a good fit, two halves making a whole. Parker's eyes were blind but his touches could reach deeply into the inner beauty of the soul. Kelly's experience, on the other hand, had only been to be desired by men for her physical beauty but blinded to her inner true self.However, her deception to preserve her emotional survival only magnified Parker's inner fear of his blindness and the rejection by a past lover. It all comes to a head with a bomb blast...kaboom!...with shards and splinters everywhere. When the smoke clears and the dust settles, lying amid the debris, something sparkles like a diamond. A shiny cd that turns out to be the key to forgiving the unforgivable.Whenever emotions are expressed by the reader while immersed in a story, it is a sign the writing is excellent. It was all there. It is worth the time and effort to read this story; I guarantee you won't be sorry. Five Stars.

✯✯✯✯✯Perfect balance of sex and heart.By Mcj Somera CampbellI truly enjoyed reading this book simply because it is very well written and that the author did not sacrifice the story line for the infusion of erotic scenes. It is a perfect balance of sex & heart. It depicts the characters in a realistic fashion where man is flawed and make mistakes. Plus the "feel good" that there is always hope and forgiveness. You cannot help but relate to the characters and understand their pain. How can you not forgive Parker? And how can you not empathize with Kelly? And not to mention the sex/lovemaking....steamy. Is is just an awesome read!


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A professional daydreamer, Lorenz Font discovered her love of writing after reading a celebrated novel that inspired one idea after another. Since being published in 2013, she has been conspiring, butting heads, and enjoying her spare time with vampires, angels, samurais, and other creatures she has created in her head.

Her perfect day consists of writing and lounging on her garage couch (a.k.a. the office) with a glass of her favorite cabernet while listening to her ever-growing music collection. She finds writing urban fantasy exhilarating and places an intense focus on angst and the redemption of flawed characters. Her fascination with romantic twists is a mainstay in all her stories.

Lorenz lives in Southern California with her supportive family and three demanding dogs.

Amazon ✯ FaceBook-Author Page ✯ Facebook ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Website ✯ Blog ✯ Independent Authors Network ✯ Linkedin ✯ About Me ✯ Pinterest

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Off Key by C.J. Martin

[image error] One Agreement. Two friends. Three Rules.No one gets hurt…Brandon Kresge has it all. A hot music career. An even hotter body. And tons of adoring fans willing to…yeah. By all appearances his life is perfect. But appearances aren’t always what they seem.Years of experience have made him skilled at hiding the truth. From the media. From his friends. From his band mates. But all that changes when he meets her. She breaks down every one of his barriers and leaves him stripped bare.Brynn Richer doesn’t have her life figured out, but then again, how many twenty-three-year-olds do? All she wants is to dance, a decision her mother is adamantly against. But despite the cards being stacked against her, she moves to New York City to pursue her passion. One crazy decision causes her path to intersect with the sexy, troubled lead singer of Wreckless Abandon. She knows this man will break her, knows she should steer clear of him, but she’s powerless to resist him.What happens when lines between friendship and love are blurred? What happens when rules are broken and they are forced to choose? Can they work through their struggles to find their happily ever after or are some things too hurtful, too damaged to be fixed?This is a standalone novel with an HEA. It contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations, and is intended for mature readers. Amazon US I Amazon UK [image error] CJ Martín lives in Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband and her adorable (sometimes infuriating) dog, Albert. She is an avid reader and has been known to spend her days ignoring her responsibilities while engrossed in a good book. She enjoys traveling and yoga. [image error] [image error] [image error]

Little Temptations by Madison Street

[image error] Author Note: This can be read as a stand alone; however, it is recommended to read prior novels first.I’m an asshole; I know it, and I’ve never pretended to be anything else. I have a crazy flip switch temper but it made me the man I am today. I’m at the top of my game, a fighter with a reputation of a battler in the ring and an alpha in the bedroom.I don’t have to chase women; they chase me. When I’m done with them, they’re left craving more. I’ve never needed more – never wanted more.Until…her.I’ve never wanted anyone so badly before, but my attraction to her could kill her.Is the temptation worth the risk?****Warning: This book contains strong sexual content, violence, and foul language. Intended for ages 18 and over. ***** Amazon US I Amazon UK The warm rays of the bright sun shine through the window as the morning draws near. The light hits my eyes, causing them to open slowly as my body wakes steadily. Blurred vision greets me as my grogginess from lack of sleep settles in. Rubbing my eyes awake, I open them, taking in my surroundings. Remembering the events of the night before, I recall that I’m in Harley’s room. Her briefcase is nestled on the desk, her jewelry is displayed on the nightstand, and her robe is neatly folded next to the bed. My head turns to face her and I see she’s still asleep, in the same position she was in last night. Twisting my body to face her back, I inch closer to her as she sleeps, desperately trying to not wake her up. My eyes roam, watching the gorgeous brunette sleep next to me. Her long dark hair lays across her shoulder and along the pillow. As I inch forward, a hint of coconut shampoo fills my nostrils. Fighting the urge to touch her, my eyes study her face. A few beauty marks on her cheek coincidently form a triangle, causing a smile to form on my lips. Inching slowly, desperate to feel her skin on my fingertips, my hand moves closer to her bare shoulder. The tips of my fingers graze her soft skin as tingles electrify me from just the tiniest touch. With caution, my hand trails down her shoulder toward her arm in a sensual fashion. Memorizing every inch, every iota of her skin, I relish in this brief moment. Just as I bend my head to press a soft kiss on her shoulder, the alarm buzzes, startling me as my hand retreats away from her body and under the covers. She groans awake while reaching over toward the nightstand to shut it off and rubbing her eyes. I yawn, pretending I’m just waking up as well, and do a pretend stretch just to be on the safe side. [image error] Amazon US I Amazon UK Amazon US I Amazon UK Amazon US I Amazon UK a Rafflecopter giveaway [image error] Madison Street was born in New York City and was raised in the Bronx, where she resided until she was 17 years old. After 9/11, Madison joined the United States Navy to serve her country.During the deployments, Madison constantly wrote short stories and she discovered her passion for writing. You will find Madison always on the computer, whether she's on Facebook, designing websites, messing with Photoshop, or writing for her blog. [image error] [image error] [image error] [image error] [image error]

LORD OF THE JUNGLE by Sheri Fredricks

LORD OF THE JUNGLEBook 1 of the JUNGLE ISLAND series
by
Sheri Fredricks
GENRE: Erotic Romance



A shipwrecked woman.

The uncharted island.

Jane Porter craves a thrill but when marauders scuttle her ship and she washes ashore onto an island inhabited by animals and one sexy wildman, that’s when the real adventure begins. Dependent upon her vine-swinging rescuer who acts more ape than musclebound man, she places her survival in his rugged hands and relinquishes her desire to his raw sensuality.

For more seasons than he can remember, Tarzan has lived among the tiny island’s gorilla band. Instinct propels him to save the female he finds half-dead in the surf, but gazing into her eyes, his mating tool dances an ancient tribal beat.

While the pirates search for their bounty, Tarzan and Jane are in danger. To survive, they’ll have to hang onto each other as they swing for dear life. Their adrenaline-rush of passion among the canopy of the jungle threatens not only a dizzying fall from a great height, but also into love.


Before the next surge pushed forward to cover the human’s head, he made a quick decision to help the weakling, who floundered like a newborn gorilla caught in the drag of the sea.

Less than two leaps away, a sharp-pointed fin broke the water’s surface. Drawn by the smell of blood, more would appear in a matter of time.

The stranger lifted a hand out of the water, weaker now, vainly reaching for a source to save him. The arm bore a reddish skin cover sprinkled with tiny yellow flowers that ended below the crook of a delicately boned arm. Colored rocks circled the wrist and a shiny type of silver metal circled the middle finger.

The fin turned with a splash from the meat-eater’s tail. If the human were to survive, Tarzan had to act now.

Avoiding the human’s injured palm, he grasped the small wrist and hoped the bones beneath his tight grip wouldn’t break. Instead of pulling the limp body up, out of the surf, he waited for the next wave to lift the dead weight. Carefully stepping horizontally across the rock and sharp barnacles, he moved away from the dangerous part of the shore. Only when the soles of his feet touched coarse pebbles of shallow water did he move backward to where the sand lay warm and dry.

Safe from the fish that tore meat from the bone, he dropped the thin arm lacking necessary muscle to survive. He stepped back a few paces and crouched on his haunches to watch. Stomach-side down, the small human lay still for so long he feared he’d been too late.

Two thin legs, covered in dark blue to the knees, jerked and twitched. One cough, then another, followed mouthfuls of regurgitated water and a long string of more hacking coughs. The weakling’s arms moved under his chest and pushed at the sand. Turning to flop onto his back, the person lay there taking in great gulps of air and coughing out droplets of sea water. Sand covered a portion of a child-like face; the rest of the features covered by wet, matted hair.

From his huddled position, Tarzan scanned the beach before crab-walking closer to investigate. Curious, he reached his finger forward and slid a hunk of wet hair off the small, pale face.



✯✯✯✯✯Lord of the Jungle - WOW. me Tarzan - you Jane - Let's have some fun.By George R. ParkA wild man-ape is astonished as he watches from the shore as a giant fish starts it final run at the frail human struggling in the water. Keeping a close eye toward the ocean for other humans, he debates whether to save the tiny human from certain death. At the last possible moment he reaches out and grasps the tiny hand fighting the ocean current. Dragging the unconscious body to shore he lays it face down in the sand, stepping back a few paces he watches in fascination as the human chokes and spits out large gasps of filthy water.Jane Porter had struggled with the last bit of her strength to escape from the clutches of the Pirates who had thrown her overboard. Just as she was to sink beneath the water's surface for the last time a rough male hand grasped her uninjured arm and pulled her to safety. Choking and gasping as her body expelled the river water into the sand underneath her body, she finally gained sight of the fearsome beast which had been her rescuer.So begins the tale of Tarzan his encounter with his mate, Jane. Thrilling scenes of escapes from hungry animals below from above in the uppermost reaches of the thick forest; then brutal pirates with weapons; followed by the raw and necessary bonding of the two in the thralls of overwhelming surrender of their wills to each other.Thank you so much for this wonderful read. I enjoyed every line and nuance.

✯✯✯✯✯You can Feel, Hear, See the jungle, let alone the Jungle Man!By Loves to laugh Verified PurchaseEver wondered what it would be like to have sex with a primitive man who has never experienced it before? This is where Fredricks truly excels. The author takes us right into Tarzan's mind. Just fascinating! I dare any woman to read this and not want to be Jane. Pick up this book if you want a wonderful escape, complete with pirates and primates. A glorious erotic adventure, with a cliffhanger ending that has me panting for more. Luckily, more is to come.


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Always on the hunt for the uncommon things in life, award-winning author Sheri Fredricks thrives on creating romantic adventures.

A former engineering secretary, she lives on California’s beautiful central coast. "I wanted to move away from a profession of inflexible right angles and create an unboxed world with no boundaries." A voracious reader since her early years, Sheri found her brain crowded with stories of her own. "Ultimately," she says, "my husband encouraged me to write them all down."

Winner of the Paranormal Romance Guild Reviewer’s Choice Award, and a Finalist multiple times for InD’Tale eMagazine’s Reward Of Novel Excellence award (RONE), she has numerous five-star reviews everywhere eBooks are sold.

Sheri loves to spend time at home and connecting with readers. A computer hutch keeps her focused on creating stories, but the panoramic view of life on a ranch will call her outside to play in the sun.

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Nightlord: Sunset By Garon Whited

Fantasy / Epic FantasyDate Published: September 2014

Eric didn't ask to be a vampire. In fact, he didn't even believe in them. Then he hooks up with a hot babe, wakes up with a hangover, and bites his tongue with his own fangs. 
Which pretty much settles the question. 
Now he's trying to hold down his day job while learning the rules of the Undead -- the most important being that bloodthirsty urges and predatory instincts are a real bitch. 
Upside; Eric has the beautiful Sasha to teach him the ropes, including the magic he'll need to survive. 
Downside; they're being hunted by members of the Church of Light, who are determined to rid the world of vampires. 
Then Sasha is killed, and Eric is thrust into an alternate world in his quest to avenge her death. There he becomes a Nightlord, fights a dragon with the help of his magical steed, Bronze, and upchucks a sword named Firebrand. 
But things get really interesting when Eric finally finds Tobias, head of the Church of Light. Soon Eric finds himself at the center of an epic battle at the literal edge of the world in a fight to keep a terrible darkness at bay. 
In other words, just another day in the life of the Nightlord. 
"When you fall off the Edge of the World into hordes of demonic Things from the Outer Darkness, you really start to wonder if you haven't made some mistakes."  --Eric, part-time undead, expectant father, and short-term astronaut.

Other Books in the Nightlord Series:

Published: August 2015

“I’ve awakened in a stone box about the size of a large coffin… I’m filthy, everything aches, and, by the various so-called gods, I smell awful.“I’ve woken up in worse places.“Hmm. What does that say about my life choices?” —Eric, amateur magician, part-time vampire, and accidental king.
It's not easy, being King. Especially when you've got an allergy to sunrise and sunset, a fire-goddess for a mother-in-law, demonic adversaries, random assassins, and a basement full of insecurities to cope with.
Add to that his daughter, the fire-priestess/princess, a couple of lightly-deranged professional magicians, a whole city full of wizards, and enough squabbling princes to resemble a kindergarten argument.
It's enough to make a man want to just go home.
Luckily for Eric, he has the world's fastest pet rock, a smart-mouthed sword, and a horse that not only understands him, but likes him anyway.
“An awful lot of young ladies seem to be up all night, wandering around the halls on the off-chance they’ll bump into the King when he’s in the mood for a snack. Since when did I become sexy? And why didn’t anybody warn me it was going to be work?” —Eric, elder geek and occasional idiot.

Published: May 2016
We all have inner demons. We fight them all the time. Some of us achieve inner peace by coming to terms with them.
But how do you come to terms with inner demons that tear free and become outer demons?
Eric has been a vampire for nearly a century, and his demons are more than metaphors. While they controlled him, he was the Demon King. Now he has to avoid the monsters in his own mind, as well as angry nobles, fanatical religions, assassins, magi, other vampires, criminal organizations, and the neighborhood gossip.
He wants two things: To find Tort, and to have someplace to call home.
It may be too much to ask.


EXCERPT
 I ignored the susurrus of voices, dashed up the avenue between the ruined monuments, and took the broad stairs before the door in three skipping jumps. The door itself was a carefully-balanced block of stone. It stood about eight feet tall and was perhaps twice that in width. Opening it required it to pivot around the center, its balance. Judging by the scrapes along the dusty portico, Tobias had found it no trouble at all. I, however, shoved on each side of the block in turn without result. Maybe he locked it. I backed off, got a running start, and jumped. I kicked it with both feet, as high up as I could manage. Something snapped in the wall as I hit the door. I came to a sudden halt, thudding into the stone like a cannonball, then fell heavily to the dusty floor. I rolled to my feet awkwardly—Firebrand can be an annoyingly large chunk of metal—and was in time to watch the whole block of stone finish a slow, majestic topple inward. It landed flat with an echoing, tomb-door thud and sent up a huge cloud of white dust. I was over that stone and past the cloud in an instant, dashing down a long tunnel before the echoes had finished. Directly ahead, far distant, I could see Tobias out in the open air. I came out of the mouth of the tunnel like the bullet from a gun. The plaza was large. Two football games and a cricket match could have been held concurrently in that space—complete with spectators. The tunnel I exited was at the floor level of a grandly-curving amphitheater facing Tobias. All of this was scoured from rock and worn by years of use. The floor was also natural stone, cut only to smooth it down and level it. There was no roof at all. Perhaps a quarter-mile away, the radius of the half-circle, Tobias had his back to me. Shada was lying naked on a slab of rock just beyond him. And beyond her… The world ended. I once wondered about the nature of the world I’m in. Is it round? Is it flat? Does it go around the Sun or vice versa? The world is flat. Sure, it may be round—like a coin. But it has an edge, very real, and sharply defined. I know. I’ve seen it. At least that explained why my compass never found north. Beyond that edge exists a gulf of yawning blackness, speckled here and there by the distant stars—or are they stars? I don’t know what they are. Maybe they’re just lights on the inside of a great sphere of crystal, or holes in that sphere to an even greater space that happens to be better illuminated. Maybe the stars are really angels with flaming swords and glowing halos. Maybe they really are distant suns… but I doubt it. Right up near the edge live the Things. I recognized a few from having seen them before. The rubbery monstrosity from the lab in Baret, along with the multi-tentacled creature that tried to eat me outside the gata camp. They had a bunch of brothers with them, along with a whole lot of more distant relations. There were hundreds, no, thousands of the Things in every shape and size imaginable—and many I wouldn’t choose to imagine without serious drugs. They seemed to have no gravity out there. They weren’t a flat crowd, but a wall, extending up and to the sides, as though they were all pressing against a barrier of glass, trying to get in. They were clustered most thickly near Tobias, thinner out away from him. All of them were fairly frothing at the mouth to pour from the outer darkness onto the stone floor of the world. They chattered and chittered, hissed and clacked and moaned. Their sounds were muted, as though there really was a barrier, but there was nothing to be seen holding them at bay. Tobias was chanting. He had some tools in his hands—I couldn’t tell quite what, but one seemed to be a knife.


About the Author

Garon Whited was supposedly born in either 1969 or 1970; the original birth certificate is suspiciously unavailable and other records do not agree.  After spending some years in college playing with computers, he finally joined a radical group of jellyfish herding nomads. Having fought zombie dolphins, quasi-corporeal spirits, and brain-sucking mole rats, he is uniquely qualified to write fantastic fiction. His subsequent attempts at professional salsa repairman and key line salesman met with similar success. He claims to live in Texarkana, on Earth, but people have been known to disagree.
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Saved by the Music By Kaithlin Shepherd

Erotic Romance Bestselling Series On sale now - 99 cents Author: Kaithlin ShepherdTitle: Saved by the MusicSeries: Saints & Sinners #2Release Date: August 6, 2016Cover Designer: Claire SmithPublisher: Hot Tree Publishing Sam Brooks, the musical genius behind international success Saints and Sinners, is battling a past few people know about. When their management suggest the band work with a consultant to launch a charity project, the last thing he expects is the wave of protectiveness he experiences when he starts working with Ashlee Daniels.
Ashlee Daniels loves working with charities but lately, she's been feeling the need for a change. The last thing she expects is an offer from Saints and Sinners. Hurt and betrayed more times than she cares to think about, she doesn't need the added complication of Sam Brooks.
When Sam's past becomes his present, will their love be saved by the music?

New Release Sale! 99 cents now through August 8th Amazon: US | UK | AU | CA
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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.
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FRIENDLY FIRE by Claudia Hall Christian

FRIENDLY FIREa Seth and Ava Mystery (Book 3) byClaudia Hall Christian Genre: romantic suspense mystery
Friendly Fire begins with a phone call in the middle of the night. Seth’s father figure and personal Lucifer is acting crazy. A day later, Seth learns that his mother wants him to find something that his biological father left at Fitzsimmons Army Hospital.

Standing in the lobby of the place that had restored him after two tours through the blood and muck of tunnels of Vietnam, Seth is drawn into a mystery that will take him through the meltdown of Reactor Four at Chernobyl to meet Russian Olympic marksmen and discover that a familiar demon is covering its tracks.

In the end, Seth learns the most important kind of friendly fire from a man who had suffered horrific trauma and a woman who’d lived through the worst life can dish out.

If you like Seth O’Malley, Friendly Fire is the book for you.

Friendly Fire is filled with memorable characters, romance, and intrigue readers have come to expect from Claudia Hall Christian. Friendly Fire is the third in the Seth and Ava Mystery series.

“Dad?”

Seth felt a small hand touch his shoulder. Curled up on his right side, Seth opened his eyes and saw no one. Sleep tugged at him, and he closed his eyes again.

“Dad? It’s Lizzie.”

Seth sat up in bed. Lizzie was his eldest daughter, from his crazy first marriage. She reentered Seth’s life when she was six months pregnant with her stepfather’s child. Seth blinked. Even in the dim light, he could tell that she was well. He smiled at her.

“What?” Lizzie asked.

“In this light . . .,” Seth said. “You look like my mother.”

“Is that a good thing?” Lizzie asked. Self-conscious, she tucked a piece of perfectly coifed blond hair behind her ear.

“A very good thing,” Seth said. He realized he was naked. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. Would you mind . . .”

Lizzie nodded and turned around. Seth went to the closet and pulled on jeans.

“Okay,” Seth said.

He pulled a white undershirt over his head. She helped him get the shirt over his bandaged arm.

“What’s going on?” Seth asked.

“It’s Julie Ann,” Lizzie said. Tears appeared in her eyes.

“What’s Julie Ann?” Seth asked about his second daughter from his crazy first marriage.

Julie Ann was on active duty with the US Marine Corps. Seth grabbed a collared shirt. With Lizzie’s help, he put it on over the T-shirt.

“Her team was overcome by the Taliban,” Lizzie said. “They’ve taken heavy casualties. She’s been injured. According to the phone call, she’s expected to reach Kabul by nightfall. She’ll be evacuated to Germany.”

“Did they say how bad it was?” Seth asked as he threaded a belt through the loops in his jeans.

“They don’t know,” Lizzie said. “Bad, I guess. I tried to look it up online but . . .”

“Who called you?” Seth asked.

“Oh, Dad, I don’t know,” Lizzie said. “I can never keep track of that stuff — some military something or another — and when he told me about Jules, I . . . He said that he couldn’t find you, so he called me. Schmidty and I took the first plane to Denver to be here to tell you in person. The man said it would be a miracle if Julie Ann survived. I thought you’d want to go there.”

Lizzie came to him, and he put his arms around her. Over her shoulder, he tried to work it out. He felt moisture from her tears through his shirt.

“Where’s your husband?” Seth asked. “Where’s Schmidty?”

“He had some business with that R and B guy,” Lizzie said. “He dropped me off here so we could have some time alone.”

Lizzie looked at him with hurt eyes.

“Don’t you want to share this with me?” Lizzie asked. “Julie Ann . . .”

Lizzie’s eyes traveled over Seth’s face.

“What is it?” Lizzie asked. Her soft, sad voice shifted to steel. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Seth said, with a shake of his head.

“Dad?” Lizzie asked.

“Julie Ann isn’t in Afghanistan,” Seth said. “I talked to her last weekend. She’s learning to fly UAVs at a base in North Dakota. Grand Rapids, I think, but she wasn’t able to tell me.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Lizzie asked.

“It’s classified,” Seth said.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lizzie asked, and then she gasped. “They wanted to know where you were!”


✯✯✯✯✯Love! Love! Love!By angelhwk68 Verified PurchaseOnce again Claudia Hall Christian has kept me enthralled from page one. Family, love, mystery and a great ride! Seth has some surprises and revelations. Wow! As always I will wait patiently for the next one!

✯✯✯✯✯Heartwarming story weaved into a fast paced suspenseBy Anna Denton Verified PurchaseThis story is a mystery interwoven around a heartfelt family saga. Beautifully crafted with fast paced drama, keeps you turning the pages. The only negative was that I ran out of book to read.

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The Tax Assassin ✯ The Carving Knife
Claudia Hall Christian is a consummate storyteller. Whether she’s writing the long running Denver Cereal or a short blurb for her neighborhood newsletter, she tells heartwarming stories that leaves people longing for more. These skills make writing traditional serial fiction — long-form stories that are published as they are written — a natural for Claudia. Her lifelong writing goal is to write a serial fiction set in every state in the United States. So far, she’s brought her brand of addictive, heartwarming fiction to Fort Worth, Texas, in the Queen of Cool, to Denver for the Denver Cereal, and now to Boston for Suffer a Witch. Last year, Claudia released the first of the Jornada del Muerto novellas set in Santa Fe.

A prolific author, Claudia also writes the Amazon bestselling the Alex the Fey thrillers, as well as the Seth and Ava Mysteries. She currently has 22 published works. In order to keep up with her storytelling capacity, she co-founded a publishing house, Cook Street Publishing, with a group of friends.

Goodreads ✯ Twitter ✯ Facebook ✯ Amazon ✯ Website ✯ Instagram ✯ Linkedin ✯ Stories by Claudia
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Shelter Me By Stephanie Tyler

New Adult Romance, Romantic SuspenseDate Published:  July 25, 2016

There are ghosts in my past—ghosts I can't recognize.My painting heals me, but Lucas Caine has made me come alive. My past could take both those things away forever. What started out as an undeniable need to create was quickly turning into danger as my longing for memories fed the rough canvases I filled.Falling for Lucas will force me to revisit my lost memories—and possibly lose myself, my art, and him in the process.And now he has me skating the thin edge between desire and fear as I use a past I don’t remember to leverage a future I’m not sure I want.
(This is book 1 in a 3 book series. Book 2 will be available November 2016 & Book 3, January 2017)

EXCERPT
I absently tucked it into a loose braid over one shoulder while I studied the painting in front of me. I'd wanted to let Brayden pick the order, but he'd refused earlier that morning, and told me I was running out of time. At that memory, I murmured "Bastard" in his absence.
That's when a low, rough voice said, "People usually know me at least five minutes before calling me that."
Still on the floor, I whipped around to see the tall, brutally handsome man standing maybe ten feet away. How long had he been there? I hadn't heard him come in, but now that he was coming closer, I couldn't tear my eyes away.
The fight or flight response had remained intact when my memory hadn't. Everyone, every stranger wasn't necessarily a stranger. They could know me. They could be a part of my past.
Whether this man was or not, my base response to him was a purely physical one.
"The door was open," the man explained.
And it might've been. Brayden told me to lock myself in but I often forgot. Panic must have flashed across my face because he stopped advancing and held up his hands like a show of surrender. But he didn't try to tell me he was harmless, because he wasn't. Never could be. And the man who waited for him had moved too, turned his back in an effort to appear less threatening.
"My name's Lucas. I buy a lot of art from Brayden."
"Mine?" I asked.
"Not yet."
"I guess you'll have to try harder."
A smile ghosted across his chiseled face and I liked that. Wanted to see it more, wanted to be the one who could always bring a smile to his face.
 These men could be here to harm me and I was too busy with my tongue hanging out to threaten them with the police.
Because you rely on your gut, Ryn, my therapist, foster mom and Brayden always told me. That will get you through just about any situation.
My gut said this man knew I was Ryn Taylor, artist, but didn't know anything beyond that about me except what he'd read in interviews. Maybe he was here for my art, or maybe it was for me. But how could I feel so connected to someone I'd just met?
Lucas.
I rolled the name around in my mind as my eyes took in the black leather motorcycle jacket and the tighter black T-shirt underneath…the worn-in jeans and the heavy black motorcycle boots. I saw the hint of an expensive watch peek out on his wrist as he came closer.
I knew too, if I pushed up those sleeves, I'd find some ink. Incongruous, and ultimately intriguing.
 The angles of his face begged to be drawn, to be touched, and I held my hands down rigidly at my sides so I wouldn't do just that. "My show's not until tomorrow night," I managed.
"I know."
"Are you here to…" I looked around for Brayden, like he would magically appear and caught another glance of the other man by the door. "Are you here for Brayden?"
"For Brayden? No." His mouth quirked up to the side a little and he ran a hand through his dark blond hair. It was long enough to curl a bit at the nape of his neck, and it was rumpled, like maybe he'd just rolled out of bed…and maybe he hadn't been alone.
"You're not his type."
 His blue eyes pierced me. They were a dark blue and they missed nothing. "Whose type am I?"
Mine, I nearly blurted out. I was nervous, my stomach fluttering but not in that panicked way I recognized. Just the opposite, actually. Heat flooded me as he stared at me in my tank top and jeans with utmost appreciation, the frank gaze of someone who understood beauty and acted on it.
I wanted him to act, but at the same time, I needed him to stay away. I was too drawn to him, an electromagnetic pull that spun the earth on its axis differently. Something told me that I'd never get this man out of my life. I'd never be done with him, or him of me, and holy hell, that was a heady enough thought to make me dizzy.
I remained on my knees, stock still, looking up at him. I had the odd feeling that if I moved, even a little, I'd fall, trip, completely ruin the moment.
He gave me a heated look, and dammit, he knew what I was thinking.
Every woman who came into contact with him probably had that reaction. And that made me unnaturally, irrationally jealous because, in my mind, I'd already claimed him.
Finally, his gaze shifted to the paintings I'd been appraising. He focused on one that was part of a series that'd already sold well, thanks to Brayden. I'd wanted to call the series Man in Trees (and still did so) but Brayden told me it was creepy and insisted on simply, Catskills as the official series title. And while I could see what he meant, the person these were based on had never, ever scared me. But I couldn't tell Brayden these were based on someone real, because he'd freak out.
 Even though I was building an entire series around him, I'd never seen the man's face. Still, I'd always sworn I'd be able to sense him the way I'd sensed him out there before I'd caught sight of the shadowed figure, and even though I hadn't been able to see his face clearly, I knew he was big, broad and utterly male. I'd wanted to walk across the lawn, strip him and paint him…and then climb him after I stripped myself.
When I'd shown Brayden the first picture, he'd insisted on bringing it to the gallery. I hadn't wanted that, but I'd felt foolish telling Brayden about why the painting was so special to me, why I wanted to keep it. He told me that if I was sentimental about my work, I'd never get anywhere. In the end, after a terrible fight, I agreed to let him show it in his gallery, but I'd have final say if it was to be sold.
It was stolen a week later.
I stared up at Lucas as he stared at my painting—the fourth in a collection of nine, not counting the missing first one, all attempts to recreate those initial feelings that had propelled me to paint the first one. His expression unshuttered for a brief moment, like he was letting me in, drawing me closer to the fire.
I couldn't afford to play with fire, but he was like the ghost of the man I thought I'd conjured up on that warm summer's night in the Catskills. I was seventeen, dizzy and half high from creating. I'd glanced over and watched him. He was half hidden among the trees and if I hadn't been coming off a painting, I would've been terrified. Instead, I noticed how handsome he was, chiseled and mysterious.
I dreamed about him that whole week, less as the years went by, but always when I needed comfort, or when I was coming out of the burn of my art.
He'd been there. He was now here. Could I have wanted him so badly that my dream turned into reality? A ridiculous thought and one I chided myself for.
Creation didn't work that way.
I tried to draw in a shaky breath when this ridiculously beautiful, rough man moved a few steps in my direction, even though he was still focused on the painting.
The walls were closing in on me until he said, "Your work is beautiful," and turned from me to the paintings.
What little space he'd given me let me breathe. Even though I swore his gaze heated me, the fact that he was pointing to various paintings soothed me.
"My first show is tomorrow," was all I could think of to say, even though it was probably obvious.
"Your work is ready."
Your work. Like he knew I wasn't. "I don't think I'll ever be."
He turned back to me then. "That's not a bad thing. Protect whatever the hell makes these."
What made those was a part of the nightmare of my blacked-out past. What if discovering what was behind it stole the art from me, left me limp, with nothing? What if I had to trade nightmares and the thing I loved for peace? That haunted me, so I'd chosen not to have peace.
I remained on the ground, drawn to him, wanting to rise but refusing to do so. Sheer stubbornness and self-preservation mixed together.
He reached a hand down to help me up but I couldn't touch him. Not yet.
I pushed myself up. He was at least six foot four to my five feet four inches. The difference was dramatic.
He was so still, a predator, watching me with keen interest. I'd never been as intensely aware of a man in my life. I could smell his skin, wanted to taste it, put my mouth on his and forget everything else, including basic human decency.
I blamed the art. The heat. My lack of proper nutrition.
I stuck out my hand without saying anything, almost a dare. He took it in his and my pulse beat a tattoo. I felt the slow burn and then the aftershock quake through my whole body.
There was a definite sense of street in him, a primal, easily willing and able to fight for his life street sense.
His eyes were haunted, like maybe he already had.
There was no doubt he'd won.



About the Author

Stephanie Tyler is the New York Times bestselling author of romance novels spanning multiple genres, including Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Paranormal Romance and Contemporary Romance.She’s a hybrid author who writes for multiple publishers, including Random House, NAL/Penguin, Harlequin, Carina Press, Mammoth Books, Belle Books and Samhain Publishing, as well as Riptide (as SE Jakes) and indie publishing. Her books have been translated into half a dozen languages, nominated for an RT Readers’ Choice Award and garnered top picks from RT Magazine as well as starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She’s a frequent workshop presenter and has contributed stories for anthologies for charities, including SEAL of My Dreams, which has raised over 150K for the Veterans Medical Association.
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