Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 47
June 14, 2018
Playing for Keeps by Samantha Lind
Title: Playing for KeepsSeries: Indianapolis Eagles #3Author: Samantha LindGenre: Contemporary Sports Romance
Release Date: June 14, 2018
Blurb
Friends with benefits—it never works. Someone always ends up wanting more.
What happens when both want more, but neither will tell the other?
Richard Murphy has been in the NHL for fifteen years, playing the game he loves. But with retirement looming in the next few years, he’s ready to settle down and start a family. There’s only one woman he wants that with, but she’s put him firmly into the friends—with benefits—category. Can he change her mind and heart, and prove to her he’s playing for keeps?
Madison O’Neal has been a lover of sports since she was young. She and her dad bonded over them, both during and after her mother lost her battle with breast cancer. Her love of sports led to a successful career as a sports agent. As much as she loves her job, what she really wants is a family—and someone to call her own. But the one man she’s head-over-heels in love with has her in the friends—with incredible benefits—category.
Can Madison and Richard find their way through the murky waters of friendship and become the lovers they secretly want to be?
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Author Bio
Samantha Lind is a contemporary romance author. Having spent the first 27 years of her life in Alaska, she now calls Iowa home where she lives with her husband and two sons. She enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, reading, watching hockey, and listening to country music.
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Loyal Subjects by Eva Charles
Title: Loyal Subjects
Series: The New American Royals #5Author: Eva CharlesGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: June 14, 2018
Blurb
Allegiance, faithfulness, honor...
Loyalty goes by many names.
Emmie Landon is off-limits. She has a young son, works with my brother Jake, and lugs around enough baggage to fill an entire football stadium. But I can't resist her long, shapely legs and thick, soft curls, begging to be wrapped around my hands.
Mark Harrington is too-everything. Too good looking, too funny, too charming, too brutally honest, too impulsive. He's accustomed to getting his way, and never afraid to throw down the gauntlet. So what if I can't stop thinking about his devilish blue eyes and his lip-smacking happy trail?
He needs someone to love.
She needs someone to love her.
Two seemingly incompatible lives...
Two hearts capable of total devotion.
**Despite being volume five in The New American Royals Series, Loyal Subjects may be read and enjoyed as a standalone contemporary romance.**
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Author Bio
After being a confirmed city-girl for more than thirty-five years, Eva moved to beautiful Western Massachusetts in 2014. There, she found herself living in the woods with no job, no friends (unless you count the turkey, deer, and coyote roaming the backyard), and no children underfoot, wondering what on earth she’d been thinking. But as it turned out, it was the perfect setting to take all those yarns spinning in her head and weave them into romantic tales.
When she’s not writing, trying to squeeze information out of her tight-lipped sons, or playing with the two cutest dogs you’ve ever seen, Eva’s creating chapters in her own love story.
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Loving the Wounded Warrior by Adriana Anders
Title: Loving the Wounded Warrior
Series: Love at Last #2Author: Adriana AndersGenre: Contemporary Romance NovellaRelease Date: June 14, 2018
Blurb
One tent. One Night. Once last chance.
She was my best friend's little sister—and the woman who ruined my life.
O'Neal Jones was the last person I expected to run into on this mountain in the middle of nowhere.I wanted her, even if it was a bad idea.But this thing between us was dangerous. It tore through flesh and bone to sear my soul.Then, in the course of one night, she worked her way into my tent and my sleeping bag...The question was, could I heal my wounds enough to let her into my heart?
Loving the Wounded Warrior is a sexy standalone novella, in the Love at Last series.
Originally published in the Rogue Affair anthology, this edition has been expanded with new material.
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Early Reviews
“Adriana Anders dishes up another sexy commanding virgin hero that left me hot, bothered, and wanting more! I'll take another, please!” – Alexis Anne, author of Tease“Straight to the gut.” – The Book Hammock“Beautiful and poignant.” – Sunny, Scandalicious Book Reviews“An emotional read that I just loved.” – Gladys, Goodreads“Totally enthralled until the very end!” – Pat, Goodreads“A moving and poignant story of a broken individual looking for redemption and healing.” – T Rosado, Goodreads“Unique and refreshing.” – Michelle, Goodreads“Sweet love story, with a generous amount of angst.” – Katherine, Goodreads
Excerpt
“Stop,” I gasped out, before our mouths connected. To his credit, the man didn’t hesitate at all. He was out of my space before the letter p quit resonating. “You okay?”“Yeah, I just…” I grimaced, waiting for the thrumming in my chest to subside. “We don’t have to do anything. You know that.” He made as if to slide out of his bag, the words rushed, his voice a little too loud. “You take the tent. I’ll go outside, give you some space.”It would have been easy to feed him some BS about a headache, but that wasn’t my way. “Wait.” I set a hand on his arm. “I’m not used to this.”“Kissing strangers in tents?” He huffed out an impatient sound. “Or not kissing them, I guess.”“No. No, that’s not it.” “So, you are used to kissing strangers in tents?” There was a smile in his voice.A nervous giggle escaped me and I sat up, my head almost brushing the ceiling of this tiny space. He was so big and this tent was too small, too tight, too…something. The smells, the sounds, so subtle, but more than any half-drunken, fully-clothed door bang. “Maybe it’s cause I knew you as a kid, but I…I don’t think so. I think it’s…” Jesus. I swallowed and worked hard to catch my breath. “I don’t feel sorry for you, okay? Just so that’s clear. But there’s this…sadness to you that’s got its claws in me. I want to fix it. God, I know that sounds fucked up. And it’s not like me at all. But I want to take it, maybe? Make it better. Smooth it out or swallow some of it?” He cleared his throat as if he’d say something, but nothing came out and, since I was afraid to look at him, I plowed right through. “You’re not my type, Kurt. My usual M.O.’s more confident asshole than broken soldier, I guess.”“Broken Marine,” he corrected.
“Marine. Right. I didn’t mean to insinuate that there’s anything wrong with— Oh, fuck it, come here.”
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Adriana Anders is the award-winning author of the Blank Canvas series. Under Her Skin, a Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2017, has been featured in Bustle, USA Today Happy Ever After, and Book Riot. Today, she resides with her tall French husband and two small children in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where she writes the gritty, emotional love stories of her heart.
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The Proverbial Mr. Universe by Maria La Serra
Title: The Proverbial Mr. UniverseAuthor: Maria La SerraGenre: New Adult Romance
Cover Design: Hang Le
Release Date: June 13, 2016
Blurb
Dear girl with the red scarf,
Love was never meant to be
conquered, you have to surrender to it.
Trust me. After all, I am Mr. Universe...
When the universe conveys a message, you listen.
Olivia just caught her fiancé cheating. Now she needs to question what she wants out of life and love. Striving to live up to her father’s unrealistic standards, every decision she has ever made was with her father’s wishes in mind—until she finds mysterious, handwritten letters tucked away in places only meant for her. That’s when she realizes she’s been on the wrong path all along.
Washed-up abstract artist Nick Montgomery has had quite a few setbacks in life. He’s become accustomed to needing no one—until he meets the girl with the red scarf. She’s not his type. But the universe has other ideas. Nick has a secret he’s keeping from her, afraid it will bring their new relationship to a sudden halt. Will they figure out what the Universe holds for them?
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Maria La Serra lives in Montreal. Before becoming a writer, she worked as a fashion designer. She will try everything at least once, except for skiing, hiking or camping- okay anything relating to activities done in the great outdoors.
When she’s not working on her next book, you could find spending time with family. Lyrical Lights is her second book.
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Darkest Sin by Ashton Blackthorne
Title: Darkest SinAuthor: Ashton BlackthornePublisher: Butterfly Publishing House
Genre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: June 14, 2018
Blurb
There’s nothing in the world I can’t buy… …except her. Amber has no idea what she does to me. She’s my secretary, but she’s also my obsession. Those innocent eyes? Those delicious curves? She sets my blood on fire. Out of all the women in the world, she’s the one I want. The one I need. But the sins of the past have dirtied my hands and my soul. I can’t touch her. I can’t have her. I can never make her mine. But I’ll do anything to stop my brother from making her his… …even if that means taking her for myself.
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Author Bio
Ashton Blackthorne.
Ruthless. Unstoppable. Sexy.
My gorgeous secretary calls me a bad boy in a good suit. I’ve built up quite a reputation over the years women have dubbed me "So so bad" and men have called me the biggest, baddest shark on Wall Street. They say I’ve been everywhere, done everything…And it’s all true.
I get what I want when I want it.
Now I'm sharing the most intimate details of my sordid life in my books based on actual events.
Broken, a dark alpha male romance is my first novel and Shattered, the sequel is a bad boy romance both based on my life.
I love hot action and even hotter women. And I will share with you ALL of my naughty, sordid exploits in my books.
Be the first to read my new releases and get to know me FREE by joining my mailing list.
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June 13, 2018
Mystic Wolves Series By Elle Boon
Title: Mystic Wolves Author: Elle Boon Genre: Paranormal Romance/Werewolves/Shifters Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
Mystic Wolves: Accidentally Wolf Book 1 and His Perfect Wolf Book 2 (Mystic Wolves #1-2)
Accidentally Wolf
…Zayn finds Cora suffering from mating fever. As he fights the urge to claim her, his wolf wants her for his mate. From the moment Cora lays eyes on Zayn she wanted to climb him like a tree. Niall, the alpha and his brother, tells him to keep his dick and fangs to himself, but within hours he finds it impossible. Cora goes from being human to an Accidental Wolf more than happily, she just hopes she can survive when danger strikes. His Perfect Wolf …Niall had given up on finding love, he’d watched his brother Zayn fall for his mate, and decided he needed a mother for his son, and a mate for his own. When he finds Alaina, his wolf stood up and took notice. Alaina woke up with no memory, but the one thing they both knew was they wanted each other. As they explore their attraction, danger follows her to Mystic. Niall will have to battle a pack of shifters bent on taking what was his, and kill the man who claims to be his mate’s father.
I’m a full-time wife and mother of two who has loved to read and write since childhood. I survived cancer and decided I could do anything, setting personal goals then and there. Four years later, after meeting many wonderful writers who allowed me to beta read for them, whom I can now call friends, I decided to write a book. Several years later I’ve attained my first goal, becoming a published author.I love to write and have all kinds of stories in my head waiting to be written. The best part about my new journey is that if I don’t like it, I can re-write it, unlike real life, so I always make sure there’s a happy ending.I’m creating new worlds, and I hope you all enjoy them with me. I can guarantee you’ll always have a hero or two you’ll love, and a heroine you’ll want to be.
The Busy Mom's Guide to Writing
Self-HelpPublisher: Fayette PressDate Published: 03/30/2018
Are you a busy mom who loves to write, but doesn't know where to start? This easy-to-read guide by two bestselling, award-winning authors will help you make your writing dreams a reality.
From finding time to write, to showing you how to get your kids involved, Jamie Foley and Angela Castillo (who happen to be busy moms themselves) will give you the resources--and the encouragement--you need.
This book will:- Help you plan out your writing goals, time management, and financial budget- Encourage you to enlist aid from the right people--critique partners, editors, cover designers, and more- Guide you to making the best decision for you regarding independent and traditional publishing- Give you questions to ask yourself at the end of each chapter to help you move closer to your writing dreams- Steer you away from common mistakes
Excerpt
Supper should have been started half an hour ago, and a pile of laundry waits for you on the couch (well, it used to--now the kids have flung the clothes across the room in a free-for-all sock fight). Your baby is crying, and your oldest kid is yelling something about a science fair project being due tomorrow.
But what are you thinking about? A roving mercenary princess in your own made up land--the land of Flynn. You’ve dreamed about this land, pretended to live in it yourself. And more than anything, you want to write about it.
Your little girl grabs hold of your leg with sticky fingers. “Mommy, when are we going to have supper? I’m hungry, Mommy!”
If you’re feeling tempted to check your home for a hidden camera, the reason we know these things is because we are there. We have nights like this on a continual basis. Yet between both of us, we have fifteen published books (and three collections). These books help to generate an income to help with grocery money and even, sometimes, the mortgage payment. Writing and Momming can happen! At the same time!
What this book will do:
· Help you plan out your writing goals and time management
· Give you tools to do your personal best when it comes to writing
· Steer you away from mistakes we’ve made
· Encourage you to enlist aid from the right people--critique partners, editors, cover designers, and more
· Help you create a time budget, as well as a financial budget, so you don’t go overboard
· Guide you to making the best decision for you regarding independent and traditional publishing
· Give you questions to ask yourself (and hopefully answer!) at the end of each chapter to help you move closer to your writing dreams
What this book won’t do:
· Teach you how to write a New York Times bestseller (if you find a book that can do this, let us know)
· Tell you to neglect your family in order to write
· Expect you to have a ten-thousand-dollar budget for your first book
· Tell you how to come up with writing ideas. There are countless other writing prompt books available out there. We figure if you picked up this book, you probably have ideas buzzing around in your head already and are looking for a way to let them out.
· Give you a magic formula to make millions of dollars with your books (we don’t believe such a thing exists, but maybe. Of course, unicorns might exist too…)
About the Authors
Angela Castillo
Angela Castillo loves living in the small town of Bastrop Texas, and draws much of her writing inspiration from life there. She loves to walk in the woods and shop in the local stores. Castillo studied Practical Theology and Music at Christ for the Nations in Dallas, Texas. She was home-schooled all through high school and is the oldest of 7 kids. Castillo's greatest joys are her little girl and two boys. Castillo has been published in The First Line, Aardvark's Ark, Heartwarmers, Thema, and several other publications, and also has works available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle format.
Jamie Foley
Jamie Foley loves strategy games, home-grown berries, and Texas winters. She's terrified of plot holes and red wasps.
Her husband is her manly cowboy astronaut muse. They live between Austin, TX and their family cattle ranch, where their hyperactive spawnling and wolfpack can run free.
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Sweet Disaster by Ceri Grenelle
Title: Sweet Disaster
Series: Stupid Awesome Love #1Author: Ceri GrenelleGenre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 7, 2018
Blurb
Sophie…has stupid awesome sex with a stranger.
New York City summers are hot and sticky, which only makes what I’m feeling for the asshole in my new building even messier. Usually, I quietly reserve my opinions for my news articles, but when Tony argues with me, he tempts me to give in to my crazy. I yell back. He smiles. Something in me melts.
It was only supposed to be one time, but we can’t get enough.
With Tony I’m a new person, brave and unashamed. But anything between us can only be a fling. He’s offered a job in Rome. That’s good, right? With a long history of unreliable relationships, messy emotions are a complication I don’t need.
Tony…has a sexy new neighbor.
I’ve worked my ass off to climb the ladder at my company, even threw away my passion to prove I’m worth something. When they offer me a high position, I should be focused on my work. But no one’s ever spoken to me the way Sophie does. She pushes buttons I don't know I have. Forces me to confront a dream I gave up long ago.
In two months, we go our separate ways. No hurt feelings. No misunderstandings. That’s the deal. She doesn’t need to know I’ll be playing for keeps.
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Excerpt
Chapter One
Sophie moves into a new building. There are sexy assholes.
The first time we argue, I feel alive. I’m sweating, my blood’s pumping, and my hair is sticking to my face in the stinking New York City humidity. I don’t know what life really is until some asshole starts screaming at me to move my van from his spot, because it feels so damn good to yell right back at him.“Get your U-Haul out of my parking spot!” This guy’s hollering at me from across the street.“Excuse me?” I call back, convinced he isn’t speaking to me. No one ever yells at me. I’m unassuming and introverted. I’m a wallpaper ninja, blending so well people can’t even find me to yell at me.But the guy across the street sees me, clear as day.“Are you deaf?” he yells with slow and exaggerated articulation. “Get your damn moving van out of my spot.”I’m not the type of person to engage in a verbal fight. I’m quiet-even when someone pisses me off. I roll with the chaotic nature of my beautifully harsh city: a strand of seaweed in the ocean, riding the tides. But after surviving the day from hell, only to be accosted by this bear of a man? I fight back, like I never have before. “Last time I checked there are no spots assigned to people on this block, or anywhere else in Brooklyn.”“It’s an unwritten rule.”I mimic his earlier tone, hitting every consonant and unleashing my New York accent to embellish the attitude. “If you couldn’t tell, I’m moving into the building and there’s an actual written rule that if I double-park the U-Haul, I’ll get a ticket.”“That’s not my problem, baby.” He steps into the street, waiting for a break in traffic to cross. “Find a new spot.”I nearly drop the moving box in outrage before remembering it has wine glasses mom sent from Napa. Breaking them would be a crime. I’ll need them before this shit day is over, especially after getting a look at the man charging at me like a bull chasing red.As he crosses the street I expect to see a guido with a beer gut, and while I imagine he’s got a decent percentage of Italian heritage, there sure as hell ain’t no beer gut. Instead I’m greeted by a fit and trim physique, tanned skin, and biceps I could drool over. The muscles in his arms tense and roll with every word, every wild gesticulation. He levels with me on the sidewalk and removes his sunglasses, revealing dark eyes flecked with gold. He’s shockingly handsome—like runway model handsome— combined with the grittiness of a rock star and the best parts of a native New Yorker. I’m wearing the tank top I slept in last night, a ratty old sports bra, and shorts I haven’t washed for two weeks.This day is the pits.“Because of your stupid van, I had to circle the surrounding blocks for twenty minutes to find a spot for my pickup truck. A paid, limited-parking, spot.” “How is your poor car choice my fault? Who in their right mind has a pickup truck and lives in Brooklyn? You’re just asking for endless nights searching for parking. What do you do when it snows?”The challenge in his eyes is like a book I have to devour. One flexed bicep, an arched eyebrow, and I’m hooked.He shoots a disparaging glance at my van before asking, “You’re moving into this building?” He points at my new place.I’ve propped the outer foyer door open and there are boxes preloaded onto a dolly at the top of the stoop.“No.” I lay the sarcasm on thick. “I’ve come here to unload this van with the sole purpose of pissing you off. I thought, ‘who in all of New York can I make the most miserable today?’ ” I raise one arm in a fist pump. “I won!”His eyes widen like he can’t believe I’m not backing down, and I might be hallucinating from the heat, but I swear I catch a smile before he starts laying into me again, our voices getting louder and louder.“I don’t care what you’re doing; I need this spot for my truck, and you need to move.”“I will move my truck when I’m good and ready.”“You’ll move now.”“No.”“No? That’s it?”“That’s it?” I repeat, dumbfounded. As if the world revolves around this asshole’s giant ego. “I’ll tell you what’s it. It’sninety-eight degrees outside. I had to take a day off work to move because the management company of this stupid new building insists I move one week after signing the lease, much to the dismay of my boss, who was kinda pissed I didn’t come in today.” He opens his mouth to speak and I cover it with my hand, unwilling to break my stride. I haven’t unloaded like this in years. “And then the rental company loses my reservation for the van, and proceeds to send me to two consecutive branches 'till I found one that has the size I reserved. Two branches.”His eyes narrow as he crosses his arms, but he doesn’t stop me. I’m on a damn roll, releasing pressure built by an awful day, and years of containing my opinion to the written word. I keep my hand on his lips, not because it feels nice or anything, but because I need to get this off my chest and he’s the unlucky bastard who’s gonna hear it. Not even an introvert of my level can keep it cool after the shit storm of my day.“The Task Rabbit guys I hired to load the truck were an hour late and on the drive over no less than three cabbies-three-cut me off on the bridge, and I’m pretty sure I heard one of my boxes fall over and break as I swerved to get out of the way. And now, to put the icing on a great big turd of a cake, a loudmouth jackass is ordering me to move my van after getting a spot directly in front of my new building. He wants to shit on the one good thing that’s happened to me today. You want to know what’s it?” I’m panting it’s so hard to get the last words out. “That’s fucking it.”I’ve lived in various spots around New York City my entire life but until this moment I’ve never adhered to the loud-mouthed-I-don’t-need-a-filter culture. With this guy and his amber-streaked hair and gold cross around his neck-I let go of all my insecurities and worry over what people will think and just let it fly. Over a parking spot, of all things. A freakin’ parking spot.When he takes my hand away from his mouth, cradling my wrist with an almost shocking tenderness, making my skin itch, I ask, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”My yelling draws the attention of passing pedestrians. I think I see a smartphone or two recording us. He sees them too, a frown pulling his features into severity. It transforms his smooth edges into a creature of rougher origins, a true piece of him I find both unnerving and intriguing. “I think I’m the guy who needs you to move your van, so I can park my pickup truck here, in the only spot on this block that fits it.” His voice is low, but there’s a definite heat behind it. Whether it’s the same annoyed tone from before or something new I can’t tell, and after the scene I just made, I don’t think I want to know.He’s still holding my hand, swiping his thumb back and forth across my wrist.“Do you verbally attack every unsuspecting person who parks in your spot, or am I just lucky?”“Baby, you don’t know what lucky is, but I’d be more than happy to show you.”That might be a warning or a come on...or both.I advance on him, my bravado knowing no ends today. “Don’t call me baby, asshole.”He matches me step for step. “Till you move out of my spot, I’ll call you what I want, baby.”I want to kick him, but the way he says baby flashes through my body like a heat wave. A deliciously sexy heat wave. Actually, I should kick myself to get my good sense back. His hand is still holding my wrist. I’m starting to think I don’t want him to let go. “Why don’t you go cool off with a walk around the block, go pump some iron, take some steroids, or do whatever it is you guido types do.”“You say guido like it’s a bad thing. Where are you from that you can cast aspersions on my character?” He laughs when my eyebrows shoot up, casually leaning toward me as if I didn’t just spit my entire day up on him.He finally lets go of my wrist, and I feel the loss of his heat, even in the humid air. “Guidos know big words too, baby.”God, why does fighting with him feel so good? I should want to smack him, and I do, but having his lips so close to mine makes me want different things. Sinful, sexy, and dirty things.“You perpetuate that stereotype yourself. You’re doing it now, yelling at me like an Italian thug.”His hand clutches his heart. “You wound me, baby. I should take you inside, throw you over my knee and teach you a lesson.”His immodest threat makes me blush, but not because I’m scandalized, but because now I know I kinda want it. And God, he sees it. He sees the shift from anger to lust. He sees my skin flush in color from something other than fury, and he grabs hold. “You can’t tell me to move the van,” I say before he can interject with another baby.“I can tell you whatever I want; it’s up to you to behave and actually do it.”“Who says I need to behave?”“The laws of decency.”“You’re screaming at an innocent woman like a madman, and you have the balls to call me indecent?”“I have balls for many different scenarios. I keep them in a velvet-lined drawer and take them out when such occasions arise.”Don’t laugh. Don’t fucking laugh.I open my mouth to start another round, but before I can get a word in His Almighty Dickishness turns on a dime and flashes a roguish grin, the asshole gone in a flash. The result is devastating. His body is all fully-grown man, but his smile is whimsical and childlike, more open than what I’m prepared for. I was raised on cynicism and sarcasm. Pure honesty is alarming.“Listen, the longer we stand here, the hotter and crankier I get. I’m gonna speed this up for us. What floor you movin’ into?”“Why?”He runs his hands through his hair, seeking an outlet. I know the feeling; I’m as jittery as kid with A.D.D. “I’m gonna help you move so you can get your ugly van out of my way.”His offer, combined with the sudden change in his demeanor, throws me so far off balance I answer without thinking, “Third floor.”“What a coincidence. I’m on the fourth. Welcome to the building. C’mon, baby, show me what you need moved.”“You live here?”“Yes.” He peers into the van, seeing all the boxes and furniture pieces I could cram into it. “Were you gonna move that loveseat by yourself?”“You live here.” I point at my new address, making it obviously clear which building I mean because I need to know absolutely, without any doubt, that the man I’ve just screamed at, like a an unashamed weirdo, like I’m never gonna see him again, lives one floor above me. “At thisbuilding.” “Yes. This building.” He grins, his teeth accompanied by a sparkle. It is singularly unfair that a man so annoying can be so profoundly attractive. He’s checking all my boxes. Which only makes me angrier. “I don’t need your help.” What I don’t need is this big gulp of man in my apartment. “I’m stronger than I look.”He sighs, leans against the hated van with his arms in his pockets. Unassuming. Harmless. Ha!“I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”I dip my chin and stare at him with an eyebrow arched in sarcastic doubt.“Okay, I am sorry I made your day harder. Let me make it up to you. Let me help you move in.” He doesn’t wait for me to accept, of course, just turns back to the open van, eyeing it like a mountain to be climbed. “What do you want moved first?” He’s genuine. He’s actually offering to help me, after spending a good twenty minutes making an ass of himself by demanding I move for his benefit. And all of sudden he’s helping me, like this is who he was all along. Like I’m not the only one who’s had a shit day. “How about the ones labeled kitchen? That’s the best room in my apartment.” he chuckles to himself. I figure it must be an inside joke until he proves he’s gotta have the single most massive ego in all of Brooklyn. “It’s only the best due to my superb cooking. Do you like linguine?”“Yes,” I mumble automatically, unable to deal with the shift in his demeanor. I’m practically out of breath from hollering at him, and my body is on a knife’s edge, tempted by this hunk of man, and he’s talking about fucking linguine. “Baby.” There’s that word again. “You haven’t had linguine till you’ve had my linguine.”Oh, I want his linguine. Without another word he gathers two boxes, one on each shoulder. He looks like a textbook illustration of an ancient Roman hauling cement blocks to build a great structure. He catches me staring and winks.I will not let Lord Linguine show me up. I will prove I can do this by myself, and maybe that will make him go away. I grab a box, then another, and another, balancing them and forcing myself to smile. These boxes weigh nothing. I’m not killing myself in the heat to prove anything. I perform heavy lifting on a regular basis.“You got-”“I’m fine,” I grunt, hobbling up the steps to the building, the weight of the boxes turning me slower than molasses.The elevator is out of order-don’t cry, don’t cry-so it’s pointless to use the dolly. We’re forced to take the stairs.“Are you sure?” he asks.“Stop asking me,” I grunt.Christ, this hurts so much. I’m going to die. My knees will break, and I’ll crumble in on myself, forced to listen to Lord Linguine laugh as he steps over me. My foot catches on the top step, and the boxes start to tumble. Before I can even cry out, he’s there, deftly placing his boxes down to help me, making sure I don’t fall. One hand on my waist, the other supporting the three boxes.“Thanks.” The adrenaline from the near fall pulses through my veins as I look up at him. We’re close, barely a breath apart, and I can’t catch my breath. I can’t stop looking into his eyes. Is it possible for a man’s gaze to smolder and shine at the same time?“You’re welcome.” He sounds normal, no longer filled with false bravado, almost kind.“What would my Ma say if I let you land ass up?”There’s the idiot I’ve come to know.We make it to the third floor, and I almost collapse when we reach my door.“Is it unlocked?” Linguine asks, shuffling in front of me.“Yes.”He slides the door open, sets the boxes in the kitchen where I direct him to, as if they’re light as a feather, then comes over and takes all three of my boxes away. He doesn’t so much as grimace from the weight, and I hate him more than ever.“Let’s take a break-”“Shut up, there’s still more.”I ignore his deep chuckles as we go back to the van. I don’t repeat my earlier folly, but I make him carry the heavier stuff to pay him back for being so smug. He doesn’t complain, just lugs another two boxes onto his shoulders and places them where I tell him. I trail behind him each time we go back down the stairs to the first floor. His back muscles flex with every step, on display through the thin, white tank top. It’s a nice view, and I don’t stop myself from raking my gaze down his waist to what I can only describe as the most delicious bubble butt ensconced in pants tailor-made for his ass.He faces me once he hits the sidewalk, a self-satisfied smirk highlighting a mouth and cheekbones I’m slowly starting to obsess over in my head, and I think he knows I’ve been looking. I don’t care. I’m taking full advantage of the view while I can, except when he calls me on it.“You looking at my ass, baby?”“No,” I say too quickly, cursing my lack of finesse.“I can feel your eyes on me.”“You’re hallucinating.” We get to the van, and I’m surprised by how little is left to move.“Don’t worry, I’ve been looking at yours too.”“You son of a-”“I’ve got time for one more trip,” he says, his arm brushing mine as he reaches for more boxes. Electricity shoots through my body. Our eyes meet. He licks his lips. I can’t have him in my apartment anymore, filling it up with his raw energy and body so beautiful I’ve come to appreciate it for the work of art it is. “You can stop right now, I didn’t need your help when I started, and I don’t need it now.”He ignores me, grabbing another two boxes. “I said I don’t need your-” He grabs two more boxes and runs up to the building, like a puppy stealing a shoe, trying to instigate a play session. Except this is a grown man who I can barely look at without thinking dirty thoughts. “-what a freaking asshole...” We’re in my apartment again, the space getting smaller and smaller with every second I’m near him. We’re so close to each other, yet a million miles away. He sets the boxes by the entrance and runs his fingers through his hair as he straightens from a crouch, his slacks stretched taut over muscular thighs. His hair looks soft. Does he highlight it to get that color? Beautiful amber streaks piercing through pitch black. I push my hands through my curly, pixie-length haircut, mussing it up to distract myself. I gnaw at my bottom lip and press down till I feel a pinch, a reminder not to stare at him. It’s just so damn hard.He catches me looking again, and I glance away, coming down from the high of strong emotions and physical exertion. But it’s not enough. I feel anxious and incomplete, like I’m missing something.Like whatever is passing between us isn’t over.“I’d say thank you, but I don’t think you helping me makes up for your dickishness earlier.” I shrug, unrepentant. He doesn’t move, just keeps looking at me as his hands slowly lower. No other response. My heart beats a little faster when he licks his lips, and wet heat that has nothing to do with summer humidity blooms between my legs. “You can go now.” I don’t really want him to go. I want him to stand in the middle of my apartment, so I can stare at him a while longer. The last time I was near a man so beautiful was for an article I wrote on the trials of the male model life. Those guys are paid to be gorgeous, but they’ve got nothing on Lord Linguine.He nods, as though he hears and understands, but makes no moves to leave. He just keeps looking at me, and now he’s touching his bottom lip with his thumb. Dear Lord, his mouth is sumptuous. No, not just sumptuous. It’s fat and thick, made more tantalizing by the way it plumps whenever he bites down. Who is this guy?He’s been carrying my heaviest boxes up and down the stairs without a drop of perspiration, like some Greek god. I’m sweating worse than a roasted pig and am most likely still flushed and red after our argument-thanks, Irish coloring. My clothes are wrinkled and gross, and I can’t recall if I brushed my teeth this morning.But I know the look he’s giving me, like there’s nothing in the world he wants more. It should scare me. I don’t know him at all, and yet...and yet...that itch in my skin is all from him. One argumentative word from my new neighbor and I’ve unleashed more personality on the world than in the past five years. Male desire emanates from his gaze like the sun at high noon; no doubt I’ll get burned if I don’t protect myself. I would usually feel uncomfortable, wary even, if someone I don’t know keeps staring at me like he does, but after spending the last hour with him—feeling his hand on my back when I nearly missed a step on one of our ascents, staring at his ass, watching his muscles tense and roll with every step, watching his lips like my favorite TV show—all I feel is an intense need.The realization slaps me in the face so hard I nearly take a step back.I want Lord Linguine. I want his beautiful body covering mine. I want his lips on places that haven’t felt the touch of a man in longer than I care to admit. I want him inside me. I want him to use my body till I’m wrung out and this awful day is erased. But all I say is, “See you around the building.”Again, no response, just staring, with the occasional lip licks or flickers of his gaze. He’s looking at my body the same way I’m looking at his. Seeing him want me only makes me want him more. Proof of his humanity shows as moisture drips down the side of his tanned face, tripping over a thin layer of manicured stubble. Shit, he’s beautiful, in a brutal, New York City way. And considering the way he shifts, his tight-fitting trousers stretching taut, a long hard line now highlighted at the front of his pants, I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing about me. I bite my bottom lip deliberately to see what he does. He watches the move then finally speaks. His voice is as far from the riotous nature of our initial encounter as it can get.“I could stay, help you unpack some stuff.” I nearly prevaricate, but decide to stick to honesty. We both know what’s happening here.“That’s not what would happen if you stayed.”“It’s your choice. If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll leave. We’ll nod at each other as we pass in the hallway, like this was an unremarkable encounter. We’ll go back to being strangers. I don’t want that, but I promise I’ll leave if you do.”“Oh, now you care what I think?” Stalling. Stalling, I am so stalling. “I’ve been hanging on your every word for the past hour, and in no world would I ever want to make a woman uncomfortable, so yeah, I care a whole fucking lot.” His body is tense, practically vibrating, yet he stays put. Waiting for me. “Tell me what you want, baby.”Do I want what he’s offering? “I’ll make you feel so good.”Uninhibited sex between strangers? After the day I’ve had?He takes a step forward. We’re nearly on top of each other now. My hands itch to touch him. “Say yes.”Fuck yes, I do.“Yes.”
Author Bio
Ceri is the author of quirky and sexy contemporary romance novels. She has a major weakness for sappy cuddle moments as much as hot and steamy sex scenes, and a penchant for writing snappy and sarcastic dialogue. She loves romance that isn't afraid to be awkward and uncouth, and thrives on flawed characters with big hearts.
A New York native, Ceri now lives in California with her two cats, Mercy and Eugene Fitzherbert, who should be very thankful she didn't name him frying pan. She is a proud functioning introvert and lover of all things geeky. You can find her haunting the Twitter machine or posting pictures of her ridiculous cats on Instagram.
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You Send Me by Jeannie Moon
Title: You Send Me
Series: Compass Cove #2Author: Jeannie Moon
Publisher: Tule PublishingGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: May 29, 2018
Blurb
Jordan Velsor didn’t want to need anyone. After dumping her cheating fiancé, caring for her sick dad, and nearly being crushed along with her car during a violent storm, she’s pretty much at her breaking point. If anyone needs some luck, it’s Jordan, but the last thing she wants is gorgeous Nick Rinaldi, her landlord’s grandson, hovering over her while she nurses a bad cold. The wounded Navy doctor seems too good to be true… which means he probably is.
Nick Rinaldi left the Navy broken and adrift, wondering if he would ever practice medicine again. When his grandparents’ tenant is almost killed by a falling tree during a storm, he discovers Jordan is not only in shock, but suffering from pneumonia. Not one to miss an opportunity to play white knight, Nick arrives at her cottage to take care of her during the storm… But the lovely teacher has a fierce independent streak, and as he learns more about her, he wants to do more than merely help.
Can Jordan and Nick let go or their separate pasts and seize their future together?
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Excerpt
PrologueNine Months AgoJordan Velsor expected her last night as a single woman to be spent dreaming about her fairy tale wedding. Instead, she was sitting on the beach behind her cottage, drinking expensive champagne straight from the bottle, and wondering how she could have been so stupid.Wearing a pair of threadbare yoga pants and gray hoodie, she dug her perfectly polished pink toes into the cool, wet sand and shivered. If it was a normal night, Jordan would have thought the chill was from the cool breeze coming off Jennings Bay. But tonight was anything but normal.Tonight, Jordan had been played for a fool. She’d become a cliché.Her whole life—the future she’d had planned, everything she thought she’d wanted—fell apart before she could process how it all happened.“Jesus. There you are.” Jordan recognized her friend Lilly’s voice right away. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”“Maybe I didn’t want to be found.” Jordan grumbled.With a flick of her wrists, the old plaid beach blanket Lilly was carrying floated up and then slowly dropped to the sand next to Jordan. “Get up and sit on this. Your ass is going to get all wet.”So what? Was all Jordan thought. Who cared if her ninety-dollar thong got salty and sandy? No one was going to see it. “Please tell me you brought more alcohol.”“Yep. And food. I brought cheese and bread from brunch today. Oh, and I stole some cupcakes from the rehearsal dinner.”It all sounded good, but Jordan had no appetite. “They’re probably going to sue me for calling it all off. I just couldn’t…”Lilly looped her arm around Jordan’s shoulder. “You owe me no explanation. As far as I’m concerned you did the right thing.”The sound of the waves crashing on the beach matched the rushing in Jordan’s head. It was an endless thundering noise that rattled her nerves, and it was all caused by the scene she walked in on that day at Chase’s office.Her perfect fiancé—the tall, blonde and handsome lawyer, the millionaire and favorite son of a prominent family—was caught with his pants down, grinding against his secretary. Her blouse was open, her pencil skirt hiked up to her waist and she had one long leg snaked around his hip.Jordan’s voice caught in her throat at the sight of her future husband with another woman, and she started backing out of the office. Chase never would have known she was there if she hadn’t bumped into a desk chair, knocking it into a wire cart, which then tipped over.That foiled her plan of running, because once Chase turned and saw her, the truth of her life as it could be became clear. Things like this happened, Chase explained. And it was time she understood that.His secretary never came out of the office, and when her fiancé closed the door to shield the woman inside, Jordan’s heart slammed shut.Things like this might happen in other marriages, but not in hers. It was over.“Want to talk about it?” Lilly wouldn’t press, but since she was the one who ran interference when Jordan told Chase and his family that the wedding was off, she figured she had a right to know.“He’s been cheating.”“I got that much,” Lilly snarled—loyal to the core. “The rat bastard.”“His family told me I was overreacting. You know, “I’m naïve. He’s a red-blooded man.”“That’s such bullshit.”“That’s pretty much what I said.” Jordan took a long pull on the bottle of champagne and realized she’d drained it. “Jeez. Cristal sure goes down easy.”“So, it’s over.”“Yep. My dream wedding, my marriage, my life all went ‘poof!’”“I never liked him.”That brought a smile to her lips. “I know.”“Now what?”“I come back to reality. I stop living in my dreams, and face my life going forward. That’s it. No more romantic fantasies for me. They just aren’t worth it.”
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Author Bio
Jeannie Moon has always been a romantic. When she's not spinning tales of her own, Jeannie works as a school librarian, thankful she has a job that allows her to immerse herself in books. Married to her high school sweetheart, Jeannie has three kids, three lovable dogs, and resides on Long Island, NY. If she's more than ten miles away from salt water for any longer than a week, she gets twitchy. Visit her website at www.jeanniemoon.com
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Torn by Melody Anne
Title: Torn
Series: Torn #1Author: Melody AnneGenre: RomanceRelease Date: April 30, 2018
Blurb
I understand how adultery happens. I know, your first thought is “Of course you can — you’re a cheater.” That’s true, but that’s certainly not the whole story.
That’s always what a cheater says, right? Once again, you are correct. If you’re looking for a typical romance, then run — run far.
After ten years of marriage I realized my husband barely touched me anymore. There was the obligational monthly sex, but even that was starting to fizzle. I was twenty-nine and he was thirty-two. We should’ve been doing it like bunnies, night and day, or at least a couple times a week, to be more realistic. But that hadn’t happened in years.
It didn’t hit me until I’d been gone a couple of weeks. Then when I got home we both fell asleep that night, me snuggled up against his back like we always slept. But that’s all we did. We just … slept.
No big deal you say?
Wrong. It was a very big deal.
It was the night I realized we had a real problem.
I have a choice to make, but I'm so torn. Do I stay where I'm at or do I go with Kaden, with the man who's showing me I still have a lot to live for ...
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#2 Tattered
Releasing July 17, 2018
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Melody Anne is a NYT best selling author of the popular series: Billionaire Bachelors, Surrender, Baby for the Billionaire, Unexpected Hero's, Billionaire Aviators, Becoming Elena and some solo titles. She also has a Young Adult Series and is currently working on her first Thriller title to be released in 2017.
As an aspiring author, she wrote for years, then officially published in 2011, finding her true calling, and a love of writing. Holding a Bachelor's Degree in business, she loves to write about strong, powerful, businessmen and the corporate world.
When not writing, she spends time with family, friends, and her many pets. A country girl at heart, she loves the small town and strong community she lives in and is involved in many community projects.
To date, she has over 7 million book sales and has earned multiple placement on varying best seller lists, including NYT's, USA Today, and WSJ, being an amazon top 100 bestselling author for 3 years in a row, as well as a Kobo and iBooks best-seller. But beyond that, she just loves getting to do what makes her happy - living in a fantasy world 95% of the time.
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