Cara Faith Donvovan's Blog, page 68

New York Romance

New York Romance by Joanne Dannon and Charmaine RossFall in love with these two holiday novellas.Charmaine Ross, and I came up with the concept of the Happy Holidays series and loved the idea of having two friends both finding love during the holidays. We’ve linked the stories, in “New York Romance”, with both friends finding love in New York, thanks to the magic of the holiday season.A Magical Chanukah in New YorkWhen falling in love isn’t as easy as falling in love.Lisa Sassoon has shunned the scandal of her loser ex-boyfriend cheating on her by escaping to New York. Instead of sightseeing, she’s become a recluse focusing on helping the less fortunate at a homeless shelter. Gabe Olivari, entrepreneur and savvy business New Yorker, can’t let go of the pain of losing his best friend. So caught up in his own grief and believing he doesn’t deserve to be happy, he compensates by pushing everyone close to him away.But when Lisa and Gabe meet, there is an instant connection that forces them to question not only their behaviors but their aspirations.Can a dash of Chanukah magic help Lisa and Gabe realize that sparkling dates and dreamy kisses can lead to more? Perhaps even a lifetime of happiness?Christmas in New YorkA light-hearted and emotional novel about family, friendship and coming to terms with your past.Andrew started falling in love with Charlotte, his beautiful, strictly hands-off client, from the moment he first saw her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same way about him. Doesn’t she?Having made an unforgivable mistake to her parents, Charlotte has one single objective, ‘Get home for Christmas. Make amends.’ A mantra she constantly finds herself chanting when her attraction to sex-on-a-stick Andrew becomes too overpowering to try and avoid any longer.Charlotte’s boss has been piling on the workload, making to harder and harder to get back home to Melbourne, not to mention all the extra meetings slash dates with Andrew she’s had to make to get the job done.Charlotte finds Andrew incredibly attractive, fierce, smart, passionate and… totally off-limits. But between completely stupid deadlines and extra meetings, passion simmers. With redemption at stake, Charlotte must choose between her parents or once-in-a-lifetime love.
Only available on Amazon for $0.99. Pre-order now. Launch on 25 November.Buy link - http://geni.us/IgPrVPdSnippet from A Magical Chanukah in New York by Joanne Dannon“Do I want you to kiss me? Let me think.” She cocked her eyebrow. “I’m in New York, it’s a festive time, and I’m at the top of Empire State Building with a cute guy--”
“Cute?” He stepped back on unsteady feet, pretending to be offended.
She gave his arm a playful punch. “What do you want to be? Macho? Dapper? Show-stealing Suave? Stylish?”
His narrowed eyes took in her cheeky grin. “Did you just swallow a thesaurus?”
Her lips twitched with amusement before a serious look crossed her face. “The old Lisa, as in the one from a couple of months ago, would’ve been shocked and politely declined the offer of a kiss. However, I’m away, no one knows me here so if the kiss is still on offer, I’d love to take you up on it. I’ll chalk it up as romantic experience in New York.”
“I’m not sure whether to be offended or flattered.” His heart raced in anticipation of closing the gap between them and seeing if the skin along her jaw was as soft s it looked.
She puckered her lips together. “Well, I could’ve said no.”
“But you didn’t,” he said in a low voice.Snippet from Christmas in New York by Charmaine RossThe sleeves pulled at his biceps, accentuating the ridges of defined muscle beneath the flimsy material. She was a sucker for a well-fitting shirt and he just looked so good in them. A little voice piped up in the back of her brain that he’d probably look a whole lot better without anything on at all, but she shoved it back down as forcefully as she could. “Huh?”
His mouth stretched into a perfect smile, “I said, it might take some time to look through them all. I’m starving. I thought I could make us something to eat while we go through the images. What do you think?”
“Ah…” The line, Charlotte. Remember the line.
“I’m cooking.”
“You cook?” she asked.
His smile was catching and she felt herself smiling in response. “The basics only. Soufflé. Baked Alaska. Galantine. That type of thing.”
“Uh-ha. And I’m Jamie Oliver’s right-hand gal,” Charlotte laughed, tension running from her shoulders.
“That’s sou chef, for people in the know,” Andrew said. He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the sleek black marble kitchen bench.
“Well, Chef Robinson what are we having for dinner?”
“I make a mean omelet. Are you game?” Andrew said.ABOUT THE AUTHORS:
Joanne Dannon

Joanne Dannon, an Australian author, writes to give her readers the experience she loves to savor--indulging in a sigh-worthy-happily-ever-after, being swept away from the every day by diving into a delicious romance novel.Joanne is a happily married mother of two heroes-in-training who loves spending time with friends and family. She can be found on Facebook and her website www.joannedannon.com chatting about reading, writing, cooking, vintage-inspired dresses and all things romantic.Website www.joannedannon.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/joannedannonwrites
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/joannedannon_writes/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14156702.Joanne_Dannon
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Joanne-Dannon/e/B01136RTWQ/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1Charmaine Ross
Charmaine’s first foray into romance was as a fourteen-year-old where she fell hopelessly and eternally in love with her hero as only a teenager can. Instead of watching movies and staying up late, she would go to bed at eight thirty and continue her very romantic, very safe, love affair.Since then, she has fallen in love with many heroes, some less safe than what her teenage brain could possibly imagine. After earning a Fine Art’s Degree, a Diploma of Secondary Education and a Diploma of Marketing, she worked as a Graphic Designer in various advertising agencies and as well as in-house marketing roles and is currently involved with digital marketing and everything web in her current position. But she always returns to writing.Although she has traveled, she always returns to her hometown of Melbourne and lives with her husband, two children and two cats in the ferny-greens of the Dandenongs. If she’s not working on her latest romance and falling in love with yet another hero, you’ll find her reading, watching and basically indulging in her addiction to any story on any media type she can get her fingers on.You can find information about her latest releases as well as excerpts on all of her published books here:Website: www.charmaineross.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/CharmaineRossAu
Facebook: www.facebook.com/charmaine.ross.01
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/charmaineatt/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/
Hosted By



Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Alex Grayson's Always Wanting

IT'S LIVE!





My name is Abigail Summers, and I’m addicted to sex. Yes, you read right. I’m a woman that craves… no, needs to have a man take my body on a daily basis. If I don’t have sex at least once a day, my body shakes from withdrawals, my stomach cramps with unbearable pain, my sexually hazed mind goes haywire, and I become extremely irritable and a major bitch. This isn’t a lifestyle I’ve chosen for myself. It’s a struggle I deal with every single day.

I don’t do relationships, because what man wants to be stuck knowing his girl may be out having sex with some random guy if he’s not available? You may think this is something that I can control, but I say screw you; you’ve never been in my shoes before.

The cravings may be something I can’t control, but I’ve learned to embrace them. I’ve tried the sexual addiction support groups. I’ve tried curbing my appetites. I’ve been shunned, criticized, ridiculed, and called every nasty name under the sun. Well, I say fuck all you judgmental assholes. I’ll have sex with who I want, when I want, where I want. Embarrassment? That’s a thing of the past. This is my life now, and those that don’t like it can go straight to hell.

But then he came along and screwed everything up. Colt Maverick. For once in my life, I want more, crave more from one guy. A guy that’s sweet and doesn’t match my hard interior. A guy that looks at me like he wants to eat me alive and claim me as his own. A guy that will most definitely not be okay with my addiction. A guy that I want over and over again, not because my body demands it, but because I demand it.

I now have a new addiction. But will he be enough to satisfy my uncontrollable desires?






(PLEASE DELETE IF NOT REVIEWING)



“Which is it, Abby?” I growl, needing to know if I should kick this guy’s ass for hurting her, or kick his ass for daring to touch what is mine.

“Neither.”
She shakes her head, swallows, then looks up at me. Her eyes carry the same confusion I’m feeling.

“I didn’t want him, but he wasn’t hurting or forcing me, either.”

“Abby, what—”

“Take me back to my place,” she blurts out, interrupting me.

For the first time tonight, I notice the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the paleness of her cheeks. She doesn’t look like she feels well. My ire dies, and concern takes over. Her eyes once again drop from mine when she sees my worry. I bend my knees and force her to look at me when I get in her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she mumbles. “I just want to get out of here.”

I don’t believe her, but when I see the pinch of pain on her face, I decide to force the issue later, once we’re alone.

“My place.” I back away and grab her hand. “It’s closer,” I add when she looks like she wants to object.

Luckily, she nods.

The forgotten guy on the floor has managed to sit up and lean against the wall, still holding his nose and stomach. My eyes narrow at him when he looks up and spots us. The bastard shrinks back further against the wall at my look.

Smart man.

“The back door,” Abby murmurs and pulls on my hand, leading me to a back entrance.

After stepping outside into the dark alleyway, Abby stumbles to a stop several feet from the door. I look to see what’s wrong and find her staring at me. The look in her eyes is hard to distinguish. I see pain, uncertainty, and a hint of what looks like desire. The desire is what confuses me. She’s obviously hurting, so how can she be turned on at the same time?

“Blue,” she says softly, her hand tightening in mine.


“What is it?” I ask, stepping into her space.

What’s up with this woman? Something’s off with her, and I need to find out what it is before she drives me crazy.

The hand she was using to hold mine releases its grip and lands on my lower stomach. Her other hand trails a path up my chest and snakes around my neck. I gaze down at her in bewilderment when she steps closer and plasters her front to mine, her tits flattening against my hard chest.She grips the waistband of my jeans. “I need you,” she whispers harshly.

My dick jerks, and I want nothing more than to sink my hands into her plump ass, lift her up, and sink inside her, but I don’t. I need to get her home and find out what’s wrong with her first.“Let’s get you back to my place.”

“No,” she whimpers. She raises her hands and digs her nails into my scalp. “I need you, Blue. Please.”







Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at alexgraysonauthor@gmail.com.





Hosted by:
Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Cowboy Sanctuary Chosen for Kindle Scout!

What a great early Christmas present!  My newest book, Cowboy Sanctuary, was chosen for a publishing contract with Kindle Scout!  Thank you so much to every single person who voted for this book in the campaign!!!  You'll be receiving this book for free when it's polished by the Kindle Press Team!  I'm looking forward to working with their editors, promoters, and team and hope you're ready to share this journey with me!  I was awarded a $1500 advance as well.

If you'd like to keep up with this journey and learn more about my book, please visit www.authormichellehughes.com  a website dedicated to Cowboy Sanctuary!  Thank you all so much and I look forward to sharing this experience as I discover what happens next!  To find out more about the Kindle Scout Program, please visit here:  https://kindlescout.amazon.com/


Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Cover reveal for Amber Bardan

Coming  December 12th

For six months, she’s tormented me. Driven me crazy. For six months, I’ve teetered on the edge of combustion. Been an aggressive monster of her creation, unable to have the one thing I need.
Her.
She’s made me crazy. This is her fault. Now her games have come to a conclusion she never thought could happen.
I’m here, in her room.
In her bed.
Catching her for the Holiday’s and forever.

Warning: This short romance is pure guilty pleasure. These holidays, get caught up with Matthew, a completely obsessed hero who will stop at nothing to claim the love of his life. This book contains elements of forced seduction, which may be triggers for some. Happy Ever After. No cliffhanger.















After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fuelled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

Author Links
Web  Facebook  Twitter  Goodreads  Amazon






















Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Release Day Blitz for Smuttily Ever After.

Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon CA Amazon AU





































Charity: Paws with a Cause - https://www.pawswithacause.org



When smut happens, it's always a happily ever after.
Seven bloggers have come together to create a hot anthology filled with the best variety of sexy stories.
All proceeds go to Paws With A Cause, a charity which trains and provides service dogs to people who can greatly benefit from assistance and companionship.


The Stories:
CalculatedThe Messy Mind of Monique Pearson
A successful CEO finds her new PA has more to offer than his typing skills. In the office she’s used to being in control, but he has other plans in mind.
Rolling On A RiverThe Saucy Owl
One all-girl roller hockey team against the boys, in an all-day tournament of hockey and will power. It gets hotter than a girdle after a game when Frankie sees Taylor Rivers roll on by.
Love and WarBeauté De Livres - Beauty of Books
Having a future was never in our plans.
We were at war when we found each other.
But when the demons of your past crash into your present, will love be enough?
Falling Into YouMila Grayson | KU Book Reviews
Think you can only find used furniture on Craigslist? You can also find second chances. Don't let that chance encounter escape you.
UnexpectedObsessed with Romance
When a single mother of twins joins her best friends for “a girls night out” she expects some drinks, laughs and dancing. But someone has other plans for her.
Wildest DreamsKay Su | BooksandMe
Three isn't always a crowd. But trying to find two hot, dominating men happy to share the same girl isn't ever going to be easy. Will dreams become reality? What are the odds?
Love For UsBooks And Boys Book Blog
Finding love on the internet is always a risky business. Full of catfish and unsolicited pics. But what happens when you find a connection faster and stronger than your wifi?











































Contributing Bloggers Links:
Mila | KU Book Reviewshttps://kubookreviews.com/
Kay Su | Books and Mehttp://iamkayiee.blogspot.com/
Beauté De Livres - Beauty of Bookshttp://beautedelivres.com
The Messy Mind of Monique Pearsonhttps://mindofmoniquepearson.com
The Saucy Owl - Reviewing the RaunchHttp://www.thesaucyowl.wix.com/thesaucyowl
Obsessed with Romancewww.obsessedwithromance.com
Books and Boys Book Bloghttp://booksnboysbookblog.blogspot.com/
















Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Sales Blitz for Prescott Lane

Wrapped in Lace by Prescott Lane is available for this week for only 99c

Do not miss this beautifully written story while it's priced so ridiculously low.




Amazon US Amazon UKAmazon CAAmazon AU










When I was a little boy, the best thing about the holiday season was unwrapping presents on Christmas morning — tearing off the paper and tossing it on the floor. Now that I’m a man, I like to unwrap slowly, deliberately, taking my time to savor what lies before me. I still like to throw the wrapping on the floor, but now I know the best gifts come wrapped in lace.
And unlike when I was a kid, I won’t get sick of this present by New Year’s. I’ll definitely be playing with this girl day after day after day.
After six years avoiding my hometown, the last thing I expected when I returned was a wannabe bad girl to unwrap my heart and rip open my soul. But that’s exactly what happened. Now if I can just get the hell out of my own way, maybe I’ll finally get the best gift of all — her!
Come get unwrapped by Drew this holiday.






















I sat back and studied the canvas.  I’d finally gotten it right — the way his lips turn up in that smile that makes both my heart and panties melt.  It had taken me over a dozen tries to get it just perfect, but I finally had.  Unfortunately, I didn’t feel any better.  I thought if I could capture Drew’s smile on my canvas, my pain would somehow lessen.  Because I’d always have his image, that his leaving me wouldn’t hurt so bad.  It hadn’t worked.  The pain in my heart was just as sharp, just as overwhelming as it was yesterday and the day before.  I knew I’d never get over him.  I knew it like I knew the deep blue color of his eyes, the rough spots on his hands.  I knew it like I knew the way his lips tasted, the feel of his thick brown hair.









Prescott Lane is the Amazon bestselling author of Stripped Raw. She's got five other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace and her new release, Layers of Her. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren't enough happily ever afters in real life. Connect with Prescott Lane on

Facebook  Twitter  Web  Amazon   Goodreads

Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Release Blitz for Alexa Riley.

Amazon US Amazon UKAmazon CAAmazon AU




















Christmas Winter is lucky she loves this time of year, because her name didn’t give her much of a choice. She’s always bubbly and happy. So when she takes a job as an elf in the mall, she’s excited to spread some cheer. But Christmas could never expect what happens when she catches the eye of a stranger.

Nicholas Light owns everything he sees, and when his eyes land on the new elf in his mall’s Santa exhibit, he knows she’s no different. There’s something about her sweet innocence that he has to have, and he’ll concoct a plan to make that happen.

Warning: Grab your jingle bells and swing them over your head… This holiday quickie is gonna light up your Noel. Okay, none of that made sense. But it sounded festive, right? This book is adorable, and you’ll love it. Just don’t get tinsel stuck in the wrong places. Trust us.







































Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!Author LinksTwitter       Facebook      Website       Goodreads       Amazon Page     Instagram




















Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Release Day Blitz for Nicola Rendell

 





Amazon US Amazon UKAmazon CA Amazon AUiBooksKoboNook






















At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.

Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.

Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.

But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”

In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.

Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.

And throws their lives into total chaos.

***

To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.




















Chapter 1
Jimmy


She’s got a hell of a left hook, and her jab is no joke either. It’s hard to tell what she really looks like, with the big blue rubber mouth guard between her teeth and the black padded headgear covering her jaw and cheeks. But I know this: I want to get my hands on that body. Her tight pink tee is low cut and skin tight, and across her breasts are the words: “NOBODY’S PUSSYCAT.”
A cold draft blows in from the window, making goosebumps ripple up her arms. A thin stream of sweat runs down into her cleavage, and then I watch her nipples tighten. Christ. With little bounces, she heads back to her corner and bends over for her water bottle. Stretchy black leggings and no panty line.
Fuuuuuck.
The buzzer dings and we square up. She holds her gloves up to her face, ready to go. They’re bubblegum pink with white cuffs; the girliest weapons I’ve ever seen.
But never mind the gloves. It’s those eyes that have me. Shit, those eyes. This crazy deep green. Packers’ green. Jets’ green. Green like cash. Green that could make a guy go right out of his mind.
Pow goes a jab into my stomach and I double over, tasting my Gatorade from an hour ago. Before I can breathe, before I can even get up my gloves to slow her down, she pelts me hard with a cross to my sternum that knocks the wind straight out of me. I gasp for air and stagger back into the ropes.
“Jesus Christ,” I moan. “Who are you?”
Her eyes light up in this smile. This beautiful fucking smile that I feel way down inside. Then she bounces on her toes and smacks her gloves together out in front of her. Whap, whap. “I’m Mary!” she says around her mouth guard. “And you’re slow!”
Cute. But, yeah…no. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody. I hurl myself off the ropes, colliding with her in the center of the ring, skin against skin now. I press into her sexy shoulder with my bicep, feeling the sweat between us. She nails me in the gut again; a solid, low-slung straight, and I think, I can’ t hit a girl, can I?
No. Fuck, no.
So I stretch my arm between us, the padding of my glove holding her steady right below her collarbone. She swings for me but I’m a foot taller and she doesn’t stand a chance. “Jerk!”
Obviously.
But on the upside, now I can really get a good look at her the way I want to; close up, but not so close that she’s pummeling me. Her legs are solid and I can even see that little curve of her hipbones barely showing through her leggings. I let my eyes follow the line of sweat to her inner thighs, to that wet, hot place where everything comes together. Fuck. I want my hands on that place. I want to feel the softness and the strength. I want to know the taste of that sweat. The way that softness gives under my tongue.
Ding goes the buzzer. I push her away, padded knuckles to her shoulder. She spins and gets into her corner, so I do the same.
I grab my water bottle and squirt it into my mouth, watching her all the time. She’s fucking beautiful, this one. Fucking gorgeous. The woman of dreams. Of fantasies.
From a pink Nalgene, she takes one big gulp, two, and a little water dribbles down her lips, rolling in drops down her throat. Her eyes stay right on mine. Her chest heaves. Her eyes flash. Her lips tighten. And that’s when it happens. She peels off her T-shirt and tosses it to the floor so that the only word showing is PUSSY.
Ding.
Her body is fucking perfect. I mean perfect. I moan into my mouth guard and I look her up and down. Lean but not thin. Sexy and strong. A fighter’s body. A woman’s body. A body strong enough to take everything I want to give it. And then some.
She turns to set down her water bottle, bending at the waist. And that’s when I see it. The tattoo. It’s a ribbon of black lace that runs in a beautiful, feminine line down her back from right shoulder to left hip, curving down into her pants. Tough as hell, pretty as can be. And with the sexiest tattoo I've ever seen in my life.
Stick a motherfucking fork in me. I’m done.
“Nice ink,” I tell her as we square up again.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning in to my shoulder.
“I’ve never seen one like it.” I hook my arm around her again and pull her in. I smell something familiar. I can’t place it. She slips free and moves behind me. For one second, all I can hear is her shoes on the mats.
“I rebelled when I turned 30. It was either this or a tramp stamp.”
“Of what?” I pivot so my face is close against hers.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” She smiles tight around the mouth guard. Her glove comes through the air, cutting through the noise of the gym. Whooosh.
I get my right hand up just in time to block her with my glove. The impact rolls down my forearm like I’m nothing but Jell-O.
She lets another jab fly but misses me—barely—and I slip around behind her. The hair at the nape of her neck is curly and wet, and a long dark braid runs down her back. That strip of wet fabric at the top of her pants, dark with sweat. “Why are we fighting?” I growl as I get closer. “Why aren’t we out drinking? Making trouble? Fucking around? Let me take you out.”
She spins to face me, her eyes wide open, surprised. “You wanna drink with me?”
“Hell yes, I do. And a lot of other things.”
“You want me? Fight me.” She fires her bubblegum pink cannons at my stomach with a one-two combination that makes me feel like I’m nothing but a 283-pound heavy bag.
I try to get in a left cross, but she’s way faster than I am and comes up from under with a hook straight out of Manila.
That one got me in my brainpan, in my marrow. “Fuck that,” I snarl.
“Atta boy!”
No way. Nobody atta boys me. I’m Jimmy Goddamned Falconi. I’m nobody’s boy. Never.
“Atta girl.” I nudge her in the shoulder with my chest.
Around her guard, she says, “You fight like you’re in molasses. But you’re strong. You some kind of athlete?”
At first, I’m about to laugh. For about one second, I think I might be on Candid Camera or something. I mean, I can’t walk to the bathroom on an airplane without someone asking me to sign a cocktail napkin. I can’t get through Costco without someone asking me to sign their shopping list. Some kind of athlete?
I’m Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi. Quarterback for the Chicago Goddamned Bears. I’m somebody.
But there’s zero recognition in her eyes. No flicker of the fangirl. No sign she’s playing it cool either. To her, I’m just a guy getting his ass kicked by a girl in pink gloves.
“Hello?” She presses into my chin with a slow uppercut from the right.
I snap out of it. I don’t even know how to answer her. I play quarterback for the Bears. Ever heard of them? Or maybe, Ever heard of football? America’s Game? Fuck. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I’ve never had to explain it. People just know. “Yeah, I like to work out.”
“Then act like it,” she says, all piss and vinegar, and puts her guard back in her mouth. Wham comes that jab into my gut. Pow goes the straight to my pecs. I loop one arm around her and pull her body in close, hooking the back of her neck with the crook of my elbow. I pull her closer, tighter, both arms around her, to get a feel for her…but also to give myself a goddamned break.
She struggles a little, trying to squirm free, but I see the smile on her face, the crinkle of the skin at her eyes.
I pull her head closer to mine. I must be twice her weight; no way is she going to get free now. We are the welterweight and the super heavyweight. Wrong class totally. But then she wedges her forehead in against my chest. I watch her wind up, her biceps flexing, and, boom-boom-boom.
Every time she connects, I lose a little more air and groan, “Fuck-fuck-fuck!”
“Atta boy!”
Fuck. That.
So I keep her pinned and she starts fighting harder, which makes me want to hang on to her more. I press my nose against her head. In her thick brown hair, I can smell her shampoo, her conditioner. Coconut.
While I’m distracted by that smell, thinking of sunscreen and ukulele music and drinks with umbrellas and her on a beach, she slips out from under my arms and pops up in my face.
Well, shit.
“What, you chicken? Gonna hit me back? Or do you want to dance around for an hour or two? Because I can totally do that. I just have to go home to feed the dog.” Whap-whap go her padded fists.
Oh no, no way. No way am I going to let a pretty little thing talk to me like that. I sniff hard and man up.
I give her a jab. A hook. A cross.
And she blocks me every damned time. Blocks me like she’s fought me before, or like she’s known all along what I’ll do when it comes down to it.
Fucking wax-on-wax off, one-two-three.
Pow-pow go her gloves into my side, and fuck. I think I feel those it in my spleen. Enough. Enough. Anger boils up through me like cheap vodka after a long night.
I’m Jimmy Falconi. And I’m gonna make this girl know my name.
I crack my neck side to side and get serious. I suck air through the holes in my mouth guard and get my fists up. I edge her into the corner and those eyes flash at me. She’s sweating hard and her mascara is smudged. Her hair is mussed and her skin is slick. It makes her look dangerous. Angry. I’d like to smudge that mascara a little more. In bed. Immediately.
But first, I’m going to show her who’s boss.
The more she works herself up, the hotter she gets. That’s when something catches my eye. There’s something written on the white cuffs of her gloves. All fuzzy, written in black marker:
On the right glove: HERE COMES…
On the left:…TROUBLE!
Whomp.
She nails me in the jaw with a haymaker, and my molars shake. “Come the fuck on,” I growl back at her, with my glove pressed to the side of my face.
She smacks her gloves together, and lowers her chin. “Are we sparring or chatting? Hit me!” Bounce, bounce, bounce. Butterfly, bee. Whap, whap, whap. “I’m not going to break!”
I work my jaw open and closed a few times thinking, Okay. Fine. Fine. I didn’t think it was going to go like this, but I can roll with a hostile defense, sure. Wouldn’t be the first time. I give her the old elevator stare—up, down, up again—and get stuck on her belly button for a little too long. But then I get a game plan together. I figure I can hit her in the stomach. Not too hard, not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to let her know who’s in charge here.
Which would be me. Me, pussycat. Me.
Nudging the edge of her shoulder with my glove, I drive her backwards. Our eyes lock and I get this…this…prickle all through me.
This woman.
This one. Right here.
I want her. So fucking bad.
The fucking gym with its ten phones playing mariachi goes silent. The guys by the cooler egging her on go silent. It’s just her and me and the sweat dripping between us. Soft skin, sparkling eyes. She smells like a summer day and she’s looking at me in a way that no woman has ever looked at me. Ever.
Like she’s gonna own me and she knows it.
Which is bullshit.
She gives me a little lift of her chin and tightens her lips around the guard. She wipes her nose with her glove and then lowers her head. “Come on! You going to fight or are you just going to screw around?”
With my left hand, I jab her softly in the stomach. With the right, a play-hook to the jaw. I raise her chin on my glove so her eyes come up to mine. Then I pull her close, my arm around the back of her neck again. “You wanna screw around?” I say into her ear.
Bam, another hit to the stomach. “I haven’t even gotten started,” she answers.
Fuck it.
She wants to play? Fucking fine. I'll play. I'll play hard. I square up. But she gives me this eye. This champion eye. A winner’s eye. Cocky like no eyes I've ever seen before. Tom Brady doesn’t have anything on this kind of cocky right here. My luck, this girl’s some UFC champion. Christ.
But I can take her. Yeah, I sure fucking can.
Probably.
I decide on a straight jab; a no-fail straight jab that I plan just hard enough to send her reeling but not hurt her, not actually injure her. I know the punch. It works in bar fights and brawls on the field. An all-American move. As I wind up, everything slows down. I’m 6’6”, 283 pounds, and I throw a football for a living. When I wind up, I wind up. As I do, she ducks, fast as fucking lightning. Greased. Elegant. Lethal. So as my arm is powering through the air, as my momentum gets caught behind 12-ounce training gloves, she pops back up like a goddamned whack-a-mole.
Those eyes flash again and she smiles so hard I can see her dimples.
Dimples. Oh, fuck.
I watch her shoulder tighten, her tricep pucker, and that’s when she lets me have it for real.
The punch comes from left to right, blocking out my view of everything. I don’t see the Mexican flag on the wall. I don’t see the graffiti mural over the windows. Nope. The universe turns bubblegum pink.
It doesn’t hurt, not at first, and as I’m flying backwards, airborne, I have just enough time to think to myself, I wonder if this is what a knockout punch feels like…
Before everything flickers to black.




<Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

My Kindle Scout Nomination

It's done!  For thirty days people were able to vote for my book to receive a Kindle Scout Contract. Thanks so much to everyone that voted for me!  Now we wait to see what the Kindle Scout Team decides.  I'll do a follow-up post when they contact me, and go forward from there.  Regardless of their choice, Cowboy Sanctuary will be available, the time frame will just be different depending on their decision.  While you're waiting, I hope you check out the new website for this book:  www.authormichellehughes.com 
There are many other great books in this program, and I hope you'll take a minute to check it out even if I don't win a contract.  I love the premise of Kindle Scout!  If you're interested in learning more about the program, visit:  https://kindlescout.amazon.com/  and yes I will support them even if my book isn't chosen.  It's been an exciting, nail-biting adventure as an author with their program, and I think it gives a lot of insight about how we market to readers.  So as any author, or reader, I think you owe it to yourself to check it out!  Have a great Black Friday!!!
Love,Michelle


Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!

Tears of Crimson Southern Cornbread Chicken Dressing

Ingredients:

2 Pans of Cornbread (If you don't know how to make cornbread here's that easy recipe: http://www.whitelily.com/recipes/southern-buttermilk-cornbread-3890
2 Onions (Finely Chopped)
6 Eggs (This is NOT a typo)
1 Lg bag of Leg Quarters
2 Teaspoons of Sage
Salt and Pepper to Taste
1 Box Onion Soup Mix
1 Box of Stuffing (For emergency use as you'll read below)


Directions.


Boil the leg quarters making sure to keep plenty of water covering them until done (you'll use this for your broth)  When cooked peel it off the bone and set aside to cool.Crumble up your COOKED cornbread into a large pan like the one used above.Mix into cornbread chopped onions, sage, salt and pepper, onion soup mix, eggs, peeled chicken (all ingredients but the stuffing mix).Slowly begin adding your broth (the water you cooked your chicken in) mixing until you can place your hand on top of this mixture and it feels moist to the touch but not overly soupy!  This is where that box stuffing comes in.  If you put too much broth and need to add more thickness use that stuffing!Place in oven at 350 degrees (preheated please) and cook for 45 minutes!
This incredible recipe was passed down for generations, and my mom, Susan Hall, taught it to me. It's my favorite dish at Thanksgiving and Christmas, so with my mom's permission, I'm sharing it with you.    The secrets, she says, is the eggs, most people don't add enough eggs to their dressing.  If you try this recipe and enjoy it as much as I do, please share it and say thanks to my mom, who was kind enough to share her secret.  I hope you and your family have a wonderful Thanksgiving.  Thanks for joining us at Tears of Crimson. Home to Bestselling Author Michelle Hughes,and all the Friends of Crimson!