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Steamy Hot Winning Streak Excerpt!

Kane’s apartment was amazing, the little bit I saw of it as he half carried me down the hallway. He turned on his bedroom light before dimming the glare just a bit.

“There. I want to see you.” The gravel in his voice made me shiver.

“I want to see you too.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he took my mouth with his tongue then teeth as he pulled on my lower lip. He leaned down and licked my neck, stopping at the pulse point before capturing the lobe of my ear.

“Have I told you that I love this dress,” he said as he unzipped it, “even better on the floor?” Within seconds, it was pooled around my feet, and I was standing in front of him in only tiny lace panties and my shoes. He stared at me until I blushed. “Beautiful.”

As his lips covered mine again, I opened for him, welcoming his tongue, greeting it with mine. He bent down and ground into me with an urgency that was hedonistic and raw, his pubic bone creating delicious friction on my clit. I cried into his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

His lips crushed mine, seeking and searching, punishing and soothing all at once. Our tongues met for a dance as ageless as time. I sucked on his, and he moaned, the rumble reverberating down my body. I loved that I could affect him too. It made me brave.

With a pounding heart, I pushed his jacket from his shoulders, then I worked the buttons of his shirt. It was soon gone, and I could feel his skin. Warmth and rippling muscle. All man under my fingertips.

He worked the zipper of his pants, but I pushed his fingers away. “Let me.” He stepped out of his shoes as the pants and belt joined the puddle of clothes.

His erection tented his boxers, and I wanted to feel him, taste him. I began to sink to my knees, taking his boxers down with me, when he stopped me, yanking me up and tossing me onto the bed.

Like a predatory animal, he climbed up my body, licking his way up my legs and belly, stopping to circle each breast before again finding my mouth. He kissed me hard, holding my hands above my head. “Tell me what you want.”

Where did I start?

I licked my lips. “Taste you.”

He growled and slid the rest of the way up my body until he was planting a knee on each side of my head. He stroked himself just inches from my face. “You want this?”

I nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I want your cock.”

“Where?”

He was going to make me say it. “In my mouth.”

One side of his mouth lifted, and with a last long stroke, he lowered his length to feed me.

When he pressed the tip to my lips, I opened them gladly, eager to accept his offer. His taste exploded on my tongue as he pulsed very gently in and out. I grabbed his ass, pulling him harder into me, wanting more.

Refusing to gag, I took him into my throat, looking up into his eyes as he watched from above. His face was strained as he battled to not hurt me, giving me short intervals to breathe.

I didn’t want to breathe.

I wanted him. All of him.

And nearly cried out when he pulled away.

Immediately, I missed the weight of him on my tongue, but his cock was soon replaced with his lips. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered. “I don’t want to come yet. I want this to last.”

His hand traveled to my breast to play with a nipple, squeezing just hard enough for me to feel it. I groaned, and he squeezed again. “Pain enhances the pleasure.”

I believed him.

His fingers were replaced by his lips, his teeth, as he moved back down my body. When he came to my panties, I wailed as tongue and teeth pressed through the material, the lacy barrier increasing the sensations on my swollen clitoris. My hand found his hair, pulling him closer, harder.

Needing no further urging, he sat back on his knees and reached for the top of my panties. “I’ve been waiting so long to see this,” he said as he peeled them down my legs. “Beautiful. So smooth.”

When they were gone, he settled between my thighs and my breathing picked up speed. A small flick of his tongue nearly sent me over the edge.

“Sensitive. I love that.”

Sliding his hands under my ass, he lifted me. Our eyes met as he opened me with his thumbs and blew on my heated sex. Before I could even react, he dove deep, his tongue blazing a trail down my welcoming slit.

“God, you taste so good. So wet for me already.”

When I didn’t think I could take it any longer, his tongue plunged inside me, his teeth scraping my outer lips. One finger, then two invaded me, making me groan. Pleasure exploded as his teeth grazed my clitoris, his tongue sinking deeper into my folds. I moaned and cried out his name, clutching the bed covers, anything to ground me. He licked and sucked and bit, eating me alive.

He pumped his fingers, hard and deep, twisting them as he did.

I was there, so close to the edge, every cell inside me contracted. He curled his fingers, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“Feel good?” he asked, and I hoped he didn’t expect an answer. He stroked me there again, and I shuddered. “Ready to come?”

“Yes. Please.” The words came out in pants.

The flat of his tongue washed over my clit as his fingers began to move. I clutched at his hair, my nails digging into his scalp. He didn’t stop, only increased the intensity. The pressure. Everything.

Writhing, I was between wanting him to stop and wanting more when I exploded, screaming his name.

Trying to control my trembling body, I was vaguely aware of him moving away and rolling on a condom, then he was on top of me again, his hard cock nudging my entrance.

“Open your eyes.”

I obeyed and stared up into his green ones as the tip of his cock speared into me. I arched against the burn of being stretched but didn’t close my eyes as my body absorbed him inch by inch. When he was fully seated, he murmured, “You are so precious, feel so good,” and began to move.

His strokes were hard and powerful as our bodies pounded together. I was on fire, felt branded as we melted into one. His muscles worked under my fingers as I held on for dear life.

As he pounded into me, I was at his mercy. Bound by him. To him. He snapped his hips, withdrawing just enough that I felt the loss of him before filling me again in a soul shattering thrust.

There was a hard edge to Kane’s hunger right now. A deep, insatiable need that I felt down inside my soul.

I loved it. Loved the violent need driving him into my body as he sought his own release inside me. I loved the way my breasts rocked on my chest and the ache in my hips as I clamped my legs around his waist.

Without warning, he pulled out and flipped me over, pulling my hips up until I was on my knees before thrusting inside me again. Gripping me by the back of the neck, he pushed down until my cheek was against the bed. He held me there as he ground into me over and over.

Curling my fingers into the sheets, I surrendered to all he was doing to me. Surrendered to everything I felt. Everything he was doing. Everything I was feeling. It was all so good.

He fucked me mercilessly until I was crying with the intensity from being driven from one climax to another. It was insane. Wild. Primitive.

I loved it.

The warmth of his sweat dripped down on me, and I pushed up onto my hands until my back was connected with his front. His arms encircled my waist and held me still as he thrust up into me, his mouth sucking the lobe of my ear then my neck.

He shifted us again, and I was on top, glad to be able to see his face. His green eyes blazed as I rode him, grinding my clit into him hard. His fingers pinched my nipples as I set a new pace, driving down over and over.

“Lean back,” he instructed, and I did, changing the angle and giving him better access to my clit. I keened, unsure if I could survive another orgasm, but knew that I had no choice.

And when I came one last time, he finally found his own release.

To be continued…

I hope you enjoyed your sneak peek of Winning Streak! I can’t wait to know what you think!

Please join the conversation about it on my Facebook page BY CLICKING HERE and let me know your thoughts! Was it Too Hot?

Winning Streak will be available on Amazon on March 5!

The post Steamy Hot Winning Streak Excerpt! appeared first on Alice Ward.

NEW RELEASE: Hard to Catch is LIVE!

Hard to Catch (The Beasts of Baseball – Book 3) is LIVE on Amazon and ON SALE for Only $0.99 for a Limited Time (or FREE with Kindle Unlimited)! One-Click your copy NOW!

The Reviews Are In! Readers are LOVING This Book!

“You won’t be disappointed seriously HOT and STEAMY!!!”

Amazon Customer

“I absolutely LOVED this book!!!!! Todd Morris is my new favorite book boyfriend!!!!”

Tennille Walker

“I didn’t want to put this down until I finished the story and now I want more.”

reviewsbyang

This is the third sexy STANDALONE novel in Bestselling Author Alice Ward’s brand new sports romance series, The Beasts of Baseball.

Todd Morris

I couldn’t imagine anything worse than being traded from the Mets — until the day I’m traded to the Beasts. Now I’m catching for Calvin Malone, their star pitcher. Star pretty boy. Star pain in my ass. The tension between us is thick. All over a girl. Whitney. The woman I deserve. Not him.

If that’s not bad enough, I learn that my reputation as an adrenaline junkie, a daredevil, a risk taker has landed me a babysitter during spring training. I have to admit… Katrina Delaney is hot. Not only is she damn fine to look at, she’s the daughter of a baseball legend. And mysterious. She’s hiding something beneath that social media perfection. But what? I want to find out.

Katrina Delaney

Good ole’ dad, Bobby “Spaceman” Delaney. He did it this time. Our family fortune is being sold to the highest bidder while I try to figure out how to survive on my own. Sure, I’m twenty-three, old enough to handle my own life. But I’ve never had to. Daddy has always handled everything — until now.

Thank God for Rhett Hamilton, my savior. An amazing job opportunity as the social media manager for the Beasts is my new lease on life, my beginning, my chance to prove I can do it on my own. I’ve spent my entire life around baseball players, so it’s a perfect fit. The only thing that’s changed is how I look at these men. As a girl, I’d neglected to appreciate their rugged good looks, hard bodies, and wickedly sexy demeanor. As a woman, I’m appreciating plenty, especially the new catcher Todd Morris. But his deep blue eyes seem to see right through me. To the real me. To my secrets.

NOTE: The Beasts of Baseball series follows the sexy exploits of the players on the baseball team The Beasts, and the women they love. Each book can be read as a standalone and features a heart twisting HEA with No Cliffhanger.

Don’t wait or you’ll miss the sale! One-Click your copy now!

The post NEW RELEASE: Hard to Catch is LIVE! appeared first on Alice Ward.

Start Reading HARD TO CATCH (The Beasts of Baseball Book 3) Right Now!

Chapter One
Todd

“Higher!”

The buzz of the airplane’s engine sounded in my ears while the instructor, Hans, gave me the thumbs up. I shook my head and grinned. Not nearly high enough yet.

I sucked on the oxygen bottle, taking in what my lungs desperately craved as we made the climb past the eighteen thousand feet range my instructor had done his best to convince me was my “sweet spot.”

I wanted more.

Needed more.

My play time in the sky was going to last over a minute and a half, pushing two minutes if they’d let me. Not enough, but I’d take any moment of freedom I could get.

“We’re reaching twenty thousand feet,” Hans yelled in my direction.

The door of the plane was open, my parachute packed and tested by myself. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I wanted to go higher. “Twenty-five.”

Hans grinned, but shook his head, then looked toward the pilot and nodded. “You ready?”

I was born ready.

He checked my oxygen and gave me another thumbs up. I gripped the overhead cord, walked toward the opening of the plane, and felt the cold air pulling at me with an angry force. Adrenaline rushed through my veins like heroin. This was the highest I’d pushed my accelerated freefalls, and even though it wasn’t as high as I wanted, it was enough to create tiny pricks all over my skin and send blood rushing to my cock.

Another thumbs up near the door, a quick reach up to unclip myself from the plane, and I was sucked into the cool blue sky.

My brain calculated the time I needed before releasing the chute as I steadied myself into a superman position. I flew through the heavens, falling over a hundred and seventy miles per hour toward the earth. I spiraled, spun, glided, just like a bird, better yet, like a superhero. No wingsuit to slow me down, no instructors to hold my hand. I was on my own, class A baby.

My lungs tightened in my chest from the sheer speed and altitude of the fall, but I refused to reach for the oxygen bottle strapped to my hip. I wanted to feel everything, pain included. The view was spectacular. The earth looked like tiny grids as I busted through the clouds.

I checked my altimeter, and with great reluctance, pulled the rip cord. My body halted abruptly from the fast-paced fall and lifted high into the sky as I slowed, drifting for the last two thousand feet.

Peace.

The feeling of total oneness with nature, the silence so intense it almost had its own sound, were nearly as addicting as the adrenaline rush of the fall. I loved this part too. Floating, watching the earth grow larger beneath me until I extended my legs and returned to the hard ground.

“Whoowee!” the ground instructor called out as he ran toward me. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” I said as I began unclipping my chute.

The older man, Garett, was the owner of the company. He’d offered me over fifty jumps in the last year, all of which he kept under wraps. He always found a remote location where I’d be out of the media, and even though he knew he’d stand to make a fortune to sell the story of my rebellion against the Mets and MLB rules, I trusted he never would.

“How high did ya climb? It looked like you had a seventy-nine-second freefall at least.” He grinned, already knowing I’d pushed the limits he’d tried to set for me.

“Twenty thousand was sweet.”

He nodded, smiled, but didn’t reprimand me for going against his judgment and advice.

“I’ll get to twenty-five next time.” I smirked as he helped me push the last of my personal chute back into the bag.

“A lot of jumpers lose consciousness that high. That’s a sure-fire way to get yourself killed on a solo jump.”

“I can handle it. Didn’t use my oxygen this time.”

The old man shook his head, grinned, and patted me on the back as I pulled off my jumpsuit and changed shoes. “You got too much to live for to be so bound and determined to risk it all.”

Risk? What was life without risk?

The plane circled overhead before landing just a few hundred feet away from where we stood. Garret handed me the keys to the Harley Fat Boy I’d rented for the day and walked toward the plane. “‘Til next time.”

My legs straddled the powerful machine, chrome glistening in the sunlight, my fingers tightly surrounding the handgrips. My backpack securely tied to the back, adrenaline continued to race through my system as I kicked down, sending that familiar rumble between my legs as I yearned for the open road. I wanted one so bad, not this one, but a custom with a stretched out front end, high grip handlebars, and, of course, more power. That dreaded agreement made with the MLB to steer clear of dangerous — or what they considered dangerous — activities kept me from having one of my own. It was also the reason for the hour drive I had to get back to the city. If it were up to them, I’d be surrounded by bubble wrap sitting at home waiting for the season to start. No thanks. They’ll never know what doesn’t kill me.

Vibrations shot through my thighs as the bike raced down the highway. My mind drifted to the jump. I was disappointed I didn’t push to go higher. Next time.

Shit!

Red lights shone in my face as vehicles in front of me scattered across the highway, trying to avoid something I couldn’t see. I hit the brake and jerked hard on the handles, barely missing a truck skidding across the lane. Its back bumper hit my rear wheel, tossing me like a ragdoll to the side. Then I was down, sliding out of control. My bike glided across the pavement on its side, my leg barely escaping being trapped beneath it and ripped to shreds. A slam into a white pickup truck brought the bike and me to an abrupt stop.

“Are you okay?” I looked up to find a tall, skinny man with a long beard over me. He extended his hand. I refused, getting up on my own. The bike was a mess. My leg skinned, some blood coming from my elbow, but I was okay. My head hurt like hell, making me grateful I hadn’t been stupid enough to ride without a helmet this time.

“Yeah, I’m good. What happened?”

“It’s a wreck up ahead, at least three or four cars involved.”

Twisted metal was everywhere with columns of smoke growing larger by the moment. People were screaming and tires screeching as more traffic halted to avoid the pileup. Running to the worst of the wreckage, I spotted a bleeding woman lying on the asphalt trying to crawl to a little red car turned up on its side, smoke pouring from the engine. She was crying and screaming, “My baby!”

Panic set in as I realized what she was telling me. I ran toward the car and looked inside the window. A little girl, maybe a year-old, was crying in the backseat. She was still attached to her car seat, which was now holding her inside, even though gravity wanted to drop her into the back door.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” I pushed myself inside, stretching as far as I could reach and got a grip on the buckle that held her in place.

“Please help her,” the mother screamed.

“I’m trying,” I promised, feeling the pressure of the situation, and especially feeling the heat coming from the front of the car.

My fingers gripped the buckle. My other hand reached forward, ready to catch the girl as I unhooked her from the seat. She fell into my hand with a force I hadn’t expected, almost ripping my shoulder from its socket.

“I got you,” I whispered, pulling the screaming child toward the window and backing out with her in my arms.

The mother wrapped her arms around me, squeezing both me and her daughter with an overly appreciative hug. “Thank you,” she sobbed, taking her daughter from my arms, inspecting her from top to bottom. I steered them both away from the burning car, urging those around us to get far away.

EMTs and the police were finally on the scene, and a news crew looking to get the big story were making their way toward me. I walked back to my bike, unwilling to answer any questions or be interviewed, when a firm hand pressed against my shoulder.

“Todd Morris?” I turned to find a man in uniform. Not a cop, but a firefighter. His smile was wide, his eyes filled with excitement as he spoke. “You’re a hero,” he said a little too loudly.

I shook my head. “No, you’re the hero.”

I tried to shrug away, but by that time, the news crew was already in my face. Fuck.

“Todd Morris, a major-league favorite, legendary Mets catcher, is now a hero.” A perfectly groomed blonde woman spoke into a thick, round microphone while the cameraman captured the image of her standing beside me with the wreckage in the background.

No way, this isn’t happening.

“I’m not a hero. And I’m not doing any interviews.” I walked away from the reporter and the camera.

The traffic was starting to move in the far lane, but as I looked at my bike, it was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere. The reporter and the cameraman were back in my face. She pushed the microphone at me again. “What made you run to save that little girl?”

Seriously? Reporters asked the most asinine questions sometimes.

I’m not an asshole. It was a baby girl. There were plenty of reasons why anyone would’ve done the same thing. But, I knew not anyone would have done it. Most of the drivers were more concerned with where they needed to be than with the crying mother on the side of the road. As far as they were concerned, she was the problem, the reason they were going to be late.

“I’m not doing this,” I insisted, pushing the camera from my face.

“Where were you heading before the wreck occurred?” the reporter asked without flinching at my irritation. “Isn’t spring training soon?”

None of your business, lady.

Heading back to my bike, I spotted a dude bent over my bag. “Hey!” I yelled and took off in his direction. He looked up and panicked, picked up the bag, and started to run. I caught up to him. Caught the bag, more specifically, my chute. The damn thing unfurled behind the running man before he dropped the bag and darted between stopped cars. Shit. I looked back, and yep, the fucking camera was still pointing my way. Irritated beyond belief, I balled up the chute and began stuffing it back into the pack.

“Is that a parachute?” the reporter asked. I ignored her as I zipped the pack shut and headed back toward the bike. But I heard her speaking into the camera, excitement at her “breaking news” clear in her voice. “A real daredevil and hero in the flesh, Todd Morris, All-Star catcher for the Mets…”

I was so fucked.

I picked up the bike and moved it to the side of the road. The police began ushering everyone out of the road including the pushy reporter and her sidekick cameraman. Thank God!

“You need us to call you a tow truck?” the officer asked.

“No, thanks. I’ll handle it.”

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone. Thank goodness for the protective case I’d just bought, not a scratch.

The rental company was more than eager to send someone out to get the bike, and of course, collect me from the side of the highway. When I told them the bike looked totaled, they actually sounded relieved. Guess they stood to make more from a totaled bike than a wrecked one. Whatever.

Traffic picked up its pace, moving smoothly once again after the wreck was removed. The officer who’d run the reporter off sat down on the guardrail beside me. “So, how much trouble is this gonna get ya?” he asked.

I chuckled. In the last two years, I seemed to stay in trouble. The coach was constantly on my ass, and the GM rode me hard with threats of trading me to another team if I didn’t cool it. “Let’s just say a lot.”

He patted me on the back as the tow truck arrived. A scruffy looking man got out, shaking his head and whistling. “This da bike?” he asked, spitting on the ground way too close to my feet.

“Yeah,” I agreed without shooting out any of the sarcasm that lingered on my tongue.

“Good luck, Todd.” The officer gave me one last pat on the back before heading to his car.

I helped the tow truck driver load the bike onto the trailer and then climbed into the front seat beside him. The truck smelled of tobacco, coffee, and raspberries, a weird combination.

I was so happy to be back at the rental office and out of that truck. After signing a shit load of paperwork, I hopped in my car and headed home. All I wanted to do was fall asleep, forget about this day, and hopefully not find myself on the five o’clock news.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” my doorman greeted me with his usual too nosey routine.

I grinned, pushed the elevator button, and disappeared inside.

My condo was quiet, peaceful, and inviting. I locked the door, stripped out of my clothes and headed for the shower. A quick assessment of the damages proved to be less than my body took after a tough game on the field. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot jets massage my aching muscles and wash away the grime and blood from my day. All that adrenaline… lost in one split second of bad luck.

I grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapped it around my waist, and found my phone lit up on the bedroom dresser. The coach’s mean mug was flashing on the screen with his number displayed at the top. Are you fucking kidding me right now?

“What the fuck were you thinking?” his voice growled through the phone.

I sighed to let him know I’d heard him, but I didn’t speak. It didn’t matter if I wanted to, the man was on a roll. Getting a word in edgewise wasn’t happening, not now, not ever.

“A fucking motorcycle, and was that seriously a parachute in your backpack? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“It was just a little fender bender. It wasn’t even my fault,” I argued.

“I don’t give a flying fuck whose fault it was, or if you’d saved a burning school bus of children, you know the fucking rules. You should… you break them every time I fuckin’ turn around.”

“I’m sorry, Coach. It was just a little ride. Not like I had any way of knowing that would happen.”

“First thing in the morning. My office.” That was all I heard before the click of him hanging up.

I turned on the news. Sure enough, there I was. That overly zealous reporter was pushing her microphone in my face, and the cameraman was capturing me trying to stuff my parachute back into my bag. This was bad. This was real bad.

I fell onto my bed, phone in hand. I searched the Internet for information on what was said about me. Daredevil on the Diamond Does It Again, read one headline. Another splashed my face with a headline that simply read, Hero.

Several YouTube videos had surfaced, capturing me in the act of saving the little girl. My stomach clenched as I watched. Her mother was so distraught, and that little girl so terrified. I had no choice. I’d do it all again, even with Coach screaming down my neck.

I fell asleep, pushing the thoughts of the day out of my mind. Tomorrow, I’d deal with the wrath of the coach’s anger, but not tonight. Tonight, I’d sleep.

*

The sun beat in through my window, blasting into my eyes as they started to open. I gripped my phone, checked the time, and then jumped out of bed in a panic. Fuck, it was already seven-thirty. I only had thirty minutes to get to the stadium.

I threw on clothes, grabbed my phone and keys, and ran out the door. The doorman greeted me, “You feeling better, sir?” I didn’t have time for his inquiries into my personal life. I simply gave him a wave and kept on running.

The stadium parking lot was empty. No practice, too early for games. It felt eerie walking the long halls in the underbelly of the stadium. As I neared the coach’s office, I heard voices coming from inside, echoing down the long, narrow corridors.

“Come in. Sit down,” Coach said sternly as I appeared in the doorway.

The GM was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his lips pursed tightly together. This isn’t good.

“Todd, as you know we’ve had this discussion time and time again,” the coach started his speech, his brow furrowed with consternation.

“I apologize, Coach. As I said, I had no idea that would happen.”

His lips curled into a smile. His eyes brightened, and a chuckle escaped his throat. I felt at ease for a moment, but only a brief one as his expression quickly turned to a frown.

“Todd, we just don’t feel that you’re the right fit for this team anymore. You have no regard for our rules, which is leading other players to behave the same way.” The GM spoke without emotion.

Wow!

“You’re throwing me out?” I asked, surprised my mouth was able to say the words.

“Not throwing you out. But, we’ve determined it best for the team, for our image, that you be with a team more suited to your, well, your nature.” I leaned against my seat, pushing my back hard against the leather material at the GM’s words.

The last couple seasons were rough, but this was uncalled for in my mind. So I had a few incidents in the past, but it wasn’t like I was the only one. Several of my teammates had been caught riding motorcycles; one was involved in a high-speed police chase that resulted in a crash, and hell, our first baseman was busted for playing hockey during the off-season.

“I know what you’re thinking, Todd.” My coach acted as if he had any idea of what was going on in my head.

“We’ve had a shaky history with the team getting out of control. But we feel that everyone is onboard for a new season, a new image. We thought you were as well. Until this.” I wanted to smack the GM hard enough to make him eat his words.

“I don’t see the big deal. If I’d been in a car, not on a motorcycle, my injuries would be the same,” I snapped at them both.

“And jumping out of an airplane?” Coach glared at me with beady eyes.

“It’s as safe as riding in one.”

“This isn’t your first incident, Todd. As much as we value you as a player on the field, we just don’t feel you carry the same values off the field we require for this team,” Coach said softly. “Rules are in place for a reason.”

The GM crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Coach shook his head, and his eyes dropped to his hands that were clenched together on his desk. It was obvious they’d already made up their minds. It was useless to argue. The Mets had a new look, a new image, and Todd Morris no longer fit in.

“I’ve been traded?”

I couldn’t imagine leaving New York. I loved it here. I loved the people, the neighborhood, the stadium, my team. I wanted to plead with them to let me stay, but it was evident their mind had been made.

That’s that. I’m no longer a New York Met.

“We felt it best to have you here with none of the other players around. You can clean out your locker without anyone looking over your shoulder,” the coach said generously.

I scooted the chair back with a loud screech I didn’t mean to create against the floor. I stood, extended my hand to the coach and then the GM. To leave with my pride if nothing else.

“Where will I be going?” I asked, fearing the worst.

Philadelphia. Cincinnati. Milwaukee. All of those were names I hoped not to hear.

“Rhett.” Coach stood, looking toward his door.

I turned. Rhett Hamilton stood in the doorway. He extended his hand to the coach, and then to the GM before focusing his attention on me.

“Welcome to the Beasts,” he said with a wild grin and extended his hand to mine.

As if on autopilot, I reached out to shake it, feeling as though my coach just made a deal with the devil.

A Beast?

Me?

Hell the fuck no!

Chapter Two
Katrina

“Did you need me to take you somewhere else?” Larry, my Uber driver, was sweet but growing impatient with me.

“No, thank you,” I said quickly, pushing a twenty to the front seat.

I’d sat in the backseat of his Kia Forte for almost five full minutes in the wide, circular driveway. I wasn’t ready to go inside, to face the reality of my life. But Larry wasn’t going to let me sit here forever. I’m sure he had plenty of other poor carless saps to rescue today.

It felt surreal standing at the front door of the large mansion where I grew up. My stomach twisted in knots as I turned the door handle to let myself inside. Geoffrey always greeted me before, but he was gone, along with the rest of the staff. As the metal touched the palm of my hand, I realized that it was probably the first time I’d ever done something as simple as let myself inside my own childhood home.

“Oh, Katrina!” My mother rushed toward me, her long blonde hair pulled into a loose bun, her eyes red from what I assumed were tears.

My body melted into hers. She smelled of vanilla and lavender, and even though her life was crumbling beneath her, she still managed to soothe me.

“Hey, Kitty-Kat, you get the car dropped off okay?”

I opened my eyes and stared at my smiling father, careful to not cringe at my childhood nickname. He looked too chipper for the situation. Delusional. His hand rested on his hip as he leaned against the rounded door frame leading to the dining area. The large room I stood in made me feel small, made him look small. Bobby “Spaceman” Delaney, baseball legend. That was my dad.

“Yes,” I responded, but without showing the true emotion I felt.

“Good girl.” His grin widened as my confusion grew. How could he be so calm? Hell, so cheerful?

“I’ll get you a new car. A better one. Just wait and see, Kit-Kat,” he said with bright eyes and a tone that felt manic on my ears.

My pink Mercedes was a gift for graduating Stanford. It was an upgrade from the one I received for my sweet sixteen, and up until now, I’d always believed there’d be more where that came from. But, not now. Not ever again. I hated dropping it off to the dealership where my father had leased it. The general manager was gracious, but a hint of pity in his eyes told me he knew about my father’s dilemma, my entire family’s dilemma. No matter how hard my parents tried to cover this up, I knew they couldn’t for long.

“Yes, an even better car,” my mother said cheerfully, adding to my father’s delusion.

I smiled graciously, picked up a box, and headed up the long, spiraling staircase to my old bedroom.

The decorative French doors to my childhood bedroom opened to chaos. My furniture was pushed against the far wall, all accounted for by buyers, I presumed. I kicked off my shoes before stepping onto the super plush carpet so my toes would sink into the luxury one last time. This was it. Life as I once knew it was over.

The contents of my dresser drawers were already emptied onto my white canopy bed. I pushed everything into a large suitcase and moved to my closet. I reached up on my tippy-toes, my fingers searching the top shelf for the little velvet box that held my treasures. The soft material against my fingertips gave me a sense of comfort that I’d been missing. My hand gripped around the box, pulling it from its secure spot on the shelf and to my chest. I squatted on the floor and opened the little box to take inventory. I’d been living on my own since college, but Daddy was paying my bills. Now that he couldn’t, this little box of treasures was the only thing I had to make it through.

“Aww, sweetie.”

I looked up to find my mother standing in the doorway of my closet. Her hands were clenched across her chest, her eyes filled with sorrow.

“Your father had to sell everything to survive,” she murmured.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I opened the box, stared at the empty space where my future once was, and felt doomed. “This was mine,” I said softly, lifting myself from the floor on legs that were much shakier than a moment ago.

“Katrina, be fair. He was paying your bills. You needed to finish school.” My mother defended him as usual.

“Yeah, my journalism degree, what good is that?” I snapped.

Breaking into the industry wasn’t easy, and the only way to earn your dues was through internships, which didn’t pay. That was all fine and dandy when I was Spaceman Delaney’s daughter, legendary baseball player with more money than God himself. But, what would happen to the daughter of Spaceman Delaney, baseball legend with a gambling problem that bankrupted his family?

Tears formed in my eyes and quickly made their way to my cheeks. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I knew my father had given me a good life, a magical life, but I wasn’t ready for it to end. Not just for me, what would happen to them now?

“I’m truly sorry,” my mother said, her pain evident. “Here, I managed to save this.”

Her hand extended, she waited for me to acknowledge her offering. My eyes drifted to her tightly clutched fingers and watched as she opened them to reveal a large, pink pear cut diamond ring. “My sweet sixteen ring,” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling my world lifting from my shoulders.

“Shhh,” my mother warned, placing the ten-carat ring in my hand. It was extravagant, but that was my dad. He always wanted to give me the best, and this ring was the best.

“You should be able to pay at least six months’ worth of bills with this.” Her eyes were warm and gracious. She was right. It would pay at least that, if not more. I could get a car, pay for my condo, or possibly downsize to something smaller and pay cash. That would get me by until I found a paying job.

“Thank you, Mom.” I lunged toward her, scooping her into my arms and squeezing her with all my might.

“What are you two ladies fussing about?” I quickly shoved the ring into my front pocket before releasing my mother and acknowledging my dad standing at the doorway.

With the ring in my possession and my life feeling not so desolate as it once had, my anger toward him began to melt away. “What are you two going to do now?”

Dad leaned against the door frame of my bedroom door. Mom sat down on my bed, smiling at me with an emptiness I’d never seen before. I perched my frame against the wide opening of my walk-in closet, waiting, hoping for an answer I could live with.

“We have a condo. It’s small but still close to the action.” Small traces of remorse could be heard in my dad’s voice if you listened hard enough. “And, Kitty-Kat, we don’t want this news spreading all over the place,” he continued, remorse gone. “We’re just telling people we’ve downsized and plan to see the world. Who needs a big ole place like this when we’ll hardly ever be home?”

As the delusion continued, I couldn’t hold back the emotion, and tears fell down my cheeks like a waterfall. My mother’s arms wrapped around me tightly, but the same comfort she’d offered earlier wasn’t there. I felt sick. I’d idolized this man. Millions of people idolized him. How could he let this happen?

“I want you to have this,” he said softly, bringing his hands from behind his back. He held his “Most Valuable Player” award, a large plaque he’d proudly displayed in the game room for years. Aside from his World Series ring, it was his most valued possession. I felt uneasy about accepting such a gift.

“No, I couldn’t.”

“I want you to have it,” he insisted, continuing to hold it out.

Mom released her grip on me. The plaque felt massive in my hands. I’d never held it, only admired it on the shelf in the game room where it and his other trophies were displayed with pride.

“I’ll get everything back.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t believe anything right now.

“He will, you’ll see,” my mother chimed in, defending him as usual.

My hands quivered with the award. He really was the most valuable player. I missed those days. Not only for the money. The man standing in front of me right now was much different than the one hitting balls out of the stadium.

I was certain my mother knew about his gambling problems early on, but I hadn’t. He’d done a fantastic job covering up his addiction, up until now. On the field, he was a God, commanding control of the ball, the other players, and always pushing himself past the limits of his talents. Even when my mom wasn’t able to go, Dad always took me to the games. I’d hang out in the general manager’s office while they practiced, watching from the closed circuit televisions. During the game, I’d have the best seats, often a skybox with some pretty impressive A-listers. The concession stands were aware of my father’s status, so I’d get anything I wanted. I felt like a princess, my father the king on the diamond.

“Remember the World Series game?” he asked softly.

I looked up, into the eyes that still held so much pride that they were breathtaking. I did remember. He was speaking of the last World Series, the one his team won. It was one of the best days of my life. I’d never forget it.

“You were so excited, you grabbed me from my seat and carted me around the field on your shoulders.” I sighed at the memory.

He chuckled. His eyes glazed over with emotion as they moved past me and onto the wall behind me. My mother stood, rubbed his arm softly with her delicate hand, staring at him with love and admiration.

“We’ll get through this,” she whispered. Her dark green eyes fell on me. “We won’t let anyone know what’s happening right now. It’s only temporary anyway. No need to have the media or nosy acquaintances judging us.”

Her stature was strong, her demeanor filled with a sudden strength. Janice Delaney, an aristocrat to her social circle, was not going to be displayed in such a poor light. No way, and neither would her husband or daughter. It was agreed without actually saying a word. I’d keep my mouth shut and pretend that all was well. Daddy doesn’t have a gambling problem that cost us our way of life, no sir, just downsizing.

“Thanks, girls,” he said with a strange burst of confidence. He turned, winked at me, slapped my mother playfully on the ass and disappeared down the hall.

“How long has this been going on?” I asked my mom once we were alone.

She hesitated, sighing, and dropped her eyes to the floor.

I knew she didn’t want to talk about it, but I deserved to know the truth. This was my life too. “Bobby’s always liked to gamble,” she said, finally looking me in the eye.

I sat on my bed, carefully placing the award beside me. “Always?”

“Yes. It started out with just a few bets here and there. Once he retired, he grew restless, I guess, needing something to keep him feeling alive,” she said sadly. “He’s a good man.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what? How was telling you, or anyone for that matter, going to help?”

“I could’ve talked to him,” I argued.

A soft sigh fell from her lips. She moved toward me, sitting on the bed next to me. Her arm offered warmth as it wrapped around my shoulders. “If I thought you could’ve stopped him, sure, I would’ve told you.”

After being told of his addiction, I took notice of his behaviors. They were sporadic, sometimes manic. His downs were rough, but his ups were even more turbulent. Watching him spiral out of control while smiling, convincing himself that everything was going to be alright was heart-wrenching.

I sat in my room alone for a while, looking out the large window that overlooked our dozen acres of land, taking in the last of the familiar scent of my bedroom, and saying goodbye to the life I once knew. I was scared, terrified really. I had no idea what I was going to do on my own.

“I have to get to work.” I sat on the window bench in the front room. My dad barked orders to the movers that had arrived, while my mother acted as if everything was normal.

“You might want to think about a real job,” Dad scolded me with his all-knowing look.

Ya think?

I loved my internship at the radio station. It kept me busy, allowed me a social life, or at least the facade of one. My social media management career, if you could call an unpaid job that, was exciting, fast-paced, and I was learning how not only to make the radio station look good online, but myself as well.

Most of my life was spent surrounded by baseball players, on the field and off. Friends were few and far between, and none of them ever really close. I liked being on the road with my dad, watching him on the field, getting the royal treatment for being Bobby “Spaceman” Delaney’s daughter.

College wasn’t much different. Even though I was surrounded by kids my own age, I didn’t seem to have a lot in common with them. I worked all the time, studying, creating the school newsletter, and of course, keeping up the game, even though Dad retired during my freshman year. Five years, that’s all it took for him to lose everything he’d worked an entire life for.

“About your condo,” my dad said quickly as the movers left with another large box.

“I know,” I muttered.

“You should be able to make the association fees, and the basic bills, right?” His eyes were full of concern, and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of reality in them.

“Yes.” I clutched the ring in my pocket, rolling it around in my fingers that were shoved deep in the denim. I’ll be fine.

“I’m really sorry, Kitty-Kat. This is just a rough patch. I’ll turn it all around soon, and then we can go shopping for another pink Mercedes. Hell, maybe even a Lamborghini this time.”

His lips curled into a slick smile, and my mother’s eyes widened in pleasure at his words. I wasn’t sure which one of them was more delusional.

Did they not see the movers outside? Could they not comprehend that all of their life-long belongings had been sold to cover gambling debts and that they were reduced to a small truck of boxes, a couple pieces of unimpressive furniture, and a two-bedroom condo that was smaller than their current bedroom?

“Sounds good, Dad,” I murmured, not willing to push him while he was already down, or up, I couldn’t tell anymore.

My phone lit up, playing the “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” ringtone I’d been meaning to change. I pulled it from my purse, stared at the screen, trying to figure out who’d be calling me from New York.

“You gonna answer that?” my dad called to me. I knew the song irritated him. He didn’t have the warm and fuzzy feelings about baseball like he used to. Since he retired from the Braves, I didn’t even think he’d watched a full game.

“Hello, this is Katrina Delaney,” I answered as professionally as possible.

Often times, the radio station gave out my number to clients. Even though I’d probably be leaving there soon, I wanted to leave on a good note.

“This is Rhett Hamilton with the New York Beasts.” His voice had the same deep tone I remembered from years ago.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton. How can I help you?” I responded, confused, excited, and a little intimidated. I knew of him, not only from the papers over the last couple seasons but also from years ago, when he and my dad were friends. The radio station was mainly a rock genre, rarely covering any sports events, unless to hand out free tickets as a contest. I couldn’t imagine what connection he’d have with them, but I was eager to find out.

My dad stared in my direction at the mention of the name. I turned away, keeping my focus on the phone call at hand and away from my curious father’s eyes.

“I have an exciting opportunity I’d like to talk to you about. When will you be free to meet with me?”

“I have a couple hours this afternoon. Are you staying in downtown Atlanta?” I asked.

A chuckle sounded over the phone. He was amused by my question, but I had no idea why. “No, I’m in New York. I need you here.”

My heart raced, and my palms began to sweat around the rubber case of my phone. “Can I ask what this is about?”

“Katrina, I’ve heard great things about you, and what you can do, so I’d like to see it for myself. You’ve heard of my team I’m sure, the Beasts?” He paused and left me to answer.

“Um, yes.”

“Then you know what trouble they can be. I need someone like you to clean them up, polish them for the press, so to speak.” He chuckled again, making me laugh too, even though I didn’t know why. I was nervous, still confused, and extremely overwhelmed. This was Rhett Hamilton, billionaire, owner of the most notorious team in the league. What did he want with me?

“I’ll make all the arrangements. You just show up at the airport, and then let me convince you as to why this would be an incredible opportunity for us both.”

I thought of my life here and what I had to look forward to — nothing. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him that I was only an intern, with no paid experience in the real world of social media management. I assumed he already knew, but should I bring it up? No, shut your mouth and accept, Katrina. You need this, badly!

“That sounds perfect.” Panic set in at my acceptance. What if he didn’t like me once we met? What if he realized he’d made a mistake hiring a college graduate with only eight months of internship under her belt? And that was only at a small local radio station. This was for the majors.

“I’ll have the information sent to you shortly. Is tomorrow afternoon okay with you? I can have you back that evening if you decline the position,” he said with confidence.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” I agreed.

I hung up the phone, slid it back into my purse, and turned to see my father staring at me with a mixture of confusion and excitement… and something else I couldn’t recognize.

“Was that Rhett Hamilton?” he asked. I nodded, still too shook up to speak. “He offered you a job?”

I nodded again. “I leave tomorrow afternoon for New York,” I managed to spit out.

“That’s great, honey!” My mother was enthusiastic, much more so than my father.

Larry, my Uber driver, was pulling up to the house. He was right on time, and for that I was thankful. I didn’t want to hang around and listen to one of my dad’s lectures about why this wouldn’t be a fantastic opportunity. I knew it was, and I was grateful to have it handed to me, even if I didn’t know exactly why.

I hope you enjoyed! Read the rest on February 9!

The post Start Reading HARD TO CATCH (The Beasts of Baseball Book 3) Right Now! appeared first on Alice Ward.

New Release: Lords of the City – The Complete Series

I’m really excited for this one! Lords of the City – The Complete Series is available now on Amazon! I think you’ll love it, especially the two never released novellas. So, go grab your copy HERE NOW!

On your knees for your Lords of the City!

Sleek and formidable, Chicago is an empire, controlled by the men and women who rule from the upper floors. Beneath gray skies, there’s an order to the city, but when office hours are over, a scorching heat pulses within its walls that has nothing to do with the sun.

The Lords of the City series follows the sexy exploits of the billionaires who rule the city and the women they love. These billionaires are definitely not boys – they are men, grown up, alpha to the core, and bad in a bad boy way. So, settle in for a deliciously bumpy ride.

Included in this Box Set are:

Three complete standalone romance novels – each with an HEA and no cliffhangers:

Torn (Lords of the City – Book 1)

Secrets (Lords of the City – Book 2)

Burned (Lords of the City – Book 3)

One Never Before Released Prologue Novella:  Lured (Lords of the City – Prologue)

Until now, this novella was only available through subscription! One particular Lord of the City weaves his machinations through each of the books in this series. Find out here how it all began!

And EXCLUSIVE TO THIS BOX SET ONLY, one Brand New Epilogue Novella:   Forgiven? (Lords of the City – Epilogue)

The Lords of the City will forever continue their rule, but this novella puts the thrilling and oh-so-sexy finishing touches on the series!

Settle in and prepare for a raw, emotionally charged stimulating journey that will leave you breathless!

Lords of the City – The Complete Series is now ON SALE for ONLY $0.99 for a very LIMITED TIME (or FREE in Kindle Unlimited) to celebrate the new release, so grab your copy HERE TODAY!

The post New Release: Lords of the City – The Complete Series appeared first on Alice Ward.

Sneak a Peek of Forgiven? (Lords of the City) Now!

Chapter One
Niall

I stumbled back against the wall, empty coat hangers clanking together as I hit them. The girl against me giggled and pressed her mouth to mine. Salty and sinful. The taste I loved best.

With a big sigh, she planted her palms against me and pushed off my shoulders. The sliver of light coming through the closed door fell on her bare tits and outlined the profile of her friend, who was busy pulling her mini skirt back on.

It was a shame we couldn’t have turned the light on. It would have been nice to see their naked bodies instead of only feeling them. But keeping the light on might have resulted in more than just me getting personally blown.

Threesomes in public places were one of the things I had a sweet tooth for. Getting caught engaging in them wasn’t. Maybe in another place, at another time, when people didn’t know who I was, I might have enjoyed a little taste of exhibitionism. Three floors below, the work event I was supposed to be schmoozing at just wasn’t the place to get caught banging a couple models.

The girls finished getting dressed. I straightened my tie and ran my fingers through my hair, searching for any tufts that might have gotten out of place.

The brunette turned her phone on and, by the light of it, wrote a number down. With a wink, she stuffed it in my pants pocket. Pulling away, her fingertips grazed across my dick. I winced a little bit. Not only was I sensitive there, I was now devoid of any more passion. I’d indulged my craving for the two girls I met in the lobby on my way up to the tenth floor. Now I was stuffed.

And I already knew I’d never need a bite of either one of them again.

We went through the motions, though, with me smiling and whispering that it was great, I’d be in touch. They slipped from the coat room, a spot getting close to no traffic thanks to it being summer, and I waited another few minutes before exiting myself.

The elevator flew up to the tenth floor, and I finally arrived at the cocktail party. It had been organized to be a part of Tech Week in Chicago, a sort of industry meet and greet. It was a colossal waste of my time. Anyone I needed to know I would meet eventually. Young entrepreneurs and seasoned geniuses beat paths to the door of Lambert Industries. At the top of my game, I didn’t exactly have to go hunting for business contracts anymore.

My publicist, an annoying prick sometimes, but also one who usually had good points, had insisted I attend the event. Making face was good, he claimed. Shake some hands. Take some pictures. Go home.

I swiped a drink from the tray of a passing cocktail waitress and stepped into the fray. I knew about half of the people there by name. Another twenty or thirty percent I at least recognized.

Before I could take my first sip, Jeff Fairbanks, a suit who worked in marketing, was headed my way, another man in tow. He introduced me to the guy, Calvin something or another. He was from out of town and worked in the paper industry.

On another night, I might have been interested in prying the guy open, digging out his needs, strengths, and weaknesses so I could pull them out and hold them up to the light for inspection to see what I could get out of them.

But not tonight. There was something else brewing in my veins, a feeling I couldn’t quite name. It came close to restlessness, but it was also something else.

The ménage à trois in the coat closet had gone well, but I didn’t feel the sense of satisfaction such a fling would usually give me. Instead, I felt more ravenous. And for what I didn’t know. I just didn’t think it was for a woman or for a new business contract.

“Of course, if we got the calculations wrong, that means there’s gonna be a whole lot of glossy paper coming in this fall,” Calvin chuckled.

I didn’t even pretend to smile. People needed to know when they were failing at trying to be amusing.

Calvin cleared his throat. “Of course it’s going to be a big, big sales week,” he went on, more seriously this time. “Down in accounting…”

He droned on, but I tuned him out. It was a little trick I was really good at while pretending to give a damn.

I drained the rest of my cocktail and studied the crowd. There were a handful of women there who could be potential prey. Though I was already afraid my sour mood couldn’t be fixed by the company of another woman, why not try?

An hour or two spent with a beautiful woman was much better than drinking myself into a coma. I knew more than a couple people who did that last thing nearly every night, and I had no desire to join their ranks.

A small group parted and a familiar figure turned, placing her back to me.

I sucked a sharp breath through my front teeth. My chest constricted. Despite the air going down my throat, I couldn’t seem to get a proper breath.

It couldn’t be. No.

Emma.

Over a year had passed since I’d seen her. Much of that time I’d spent trying to forget her. Trying to get her out of my head. It was so unfair. If only she hadn’t been so forceful, if only she hadn’t taken it upon herself to question me…

Maybe…

Maybe what?

I didn’t know. I hadn’t been looking for a girlfriend, and I still wasn’t. But Emma… Emma was different.

The woman turned around, and I finally exhaled. It wasn’t her.

“Niall?” Jeff asked. “Are you all right?”

I cleared my throat and looked back at them. “Just a little headache. If you’ll excuse me…”

I left before they could respond.

Making a beeline for the bar, I grabbed a beer from an ice bucket. No more scanning the crowd. This event had proven to be a waste of time. My publicist had been wrong about this one. After chugging my second drink, I would leave.

Or maybe just take the beer with me. My driver was waiting downstairs anyway. Why not go ahead and treat myself to a little night cap on the ride home?

“That’s a good one, although I like their fall seasonal better,” a female voice said.

I looked up and froze. From the other side of the bar, a pair of deep blue eyes gazed back at me. They were set in a heart shaped face surrounded by wavy blonde hair. The woman who possessed these model good looks planted her hands on the bar and leaned toward me.

“Is that so?” I asked, leaning forward too.

Her head cocked. “It is.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it… which seems like a good idea, since you’re the bartender and clearly the expert.”

“Oh, I’m not the bartender.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “That guy is.”

At the other end of the table, a young guy in a black button up hurriedly mixed drinks.

The woman came around the back of the table to stand at its end. Now I could see just how tall she was. With her towering heels, we were probably a perfect match down to the very inch. She wore a tight party dress featuring flowers down one side while bangles clinked on her wrists. I gathered all of this information using peripheral vision since I didn’t want her to catch me blatantly checking her out.

She ran a hand through her chin length hair and studied me. “How are you enjoying the event?”

I opened my mouth to spit out a bullshit answer but then thought better of it. I only lied when it would get me what I needed. “I’m not.”

One of her finely arched eyebrows cocked. “Well, how about the drinks? Or the appetizers? Or the décor?”

“I haven’t had any appetizers, don’t know anything about decorating… but I did have a decent cocktail.”

A smile sprouted on her full, red lips. “There we go. That makes me happy.”

I turned toward her more fully. “I’d offer to buy you one, but it’s an open bar.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “And I’d take your offer, but I’m on the clock.”

“Shame.”

She just smiled coyly, never breaking eye contact.

How old is this woman? It was impossible to tell. Judging by her looks alone, she could be a twenty-one-year-old supermodel. She didn’t talk like she was that young though. She had the savvy attitude and conversational strength most people didn’t possess at forty.

“So tell me,” I said, taking a small step toward her. “If you’re not bartending here tonight, then what are you doing?”

She crossed her arms and leaned a little closer. Vanilla hit my nose. “Making sure the shit doesn’t hit the fan,” she said in a low voice.

“So you’re the event manager?”

“This is my catering company here tonight.”

“Ah.” I took a drink of my beer. “In that case, I’ll definitely try an appetizer.”

“You’ll like it,” she promised. Her eyes darted over my shoulder, and her expression changed to a more serious one. “If you’ll excuse me, there seems to be a wine glass situation that needs my attention.”

“Wait,” I said, quicker than I meant to. She halted, her cool eyes latching onto mine.

I held out my hand for a shake. “Niall.”

“Candace.” Her hand gripped mine firmly.

“When do you finish tonight, Candace?”

“Well, Niall, that depends on a lot of things. When the last guest leaves, how quickly my busboy gets the van back here, how competent my servers are feeling…”

“The night is nearly over.”

She looked at the bangles on her wrist, and I realized for the first time that she wore a thin, gold watch there. I loved to see a woman wearing a wrist watch. Not enough people depended on them anymore. Most everyone was too attached to their phones.

“If you call nine o’clock almost over, sure.” Her eyes sparkled in a new way, and then I knew. I’d hooked her.

“See you later then.”

“Maybe.” One corner of her mouth twisted up and she glided away, the plain floor transforming into her personal catwalk.

I turned to watch her cross the room, the empty, discontented feeling from earlier completely gone. Of course I hadn’t felt satisfied after getting those two girls naked. They were nothing compared to Candace.

Candace.

Just the name made me burn.

Nine o’clock. The party was almost over, but the night was still young.

Chapter Two
Candace

“Wow, that was crazy,” Stephanie huffed as we folded the cocktail tablecloths.

Crazy awesome.

“Thank God we had enough food,” I answered.

She nodded, eyes wide.

“Thanks again for coming in,” I told her for about the twentieth time that night.

My friend smiled. “No problem. What’s a couple nights a month spent catering? It helps keep me humble.”

I laughed. “What do you mean?”

“It reminds me that I never, never want to go back to waiting tables. Put me in a cubicle any day, thank you very much.”

I laughed, though I didn’t agree at all. As much as some people loathed customer service, I loved it. It was that feeling you got when you worked so hard to get something perfect, be it a dish or a floral arrangement, and then saw the excited look on someone’s face when they got to experience it firsthand…

The post Sneak a Peek of Forgiven? (Lords of the City) Now! appeared first on Alice Ward.

New Release: Lust is Live!

Today I’m celebrating Black Friday with the release of my latest – a huge ten-book collection!

Lust (A Mega Collection of Super Sexy Alpha Billionaire Romances) is now LIVE and available at Amazon! Grab Your Copy HERE NOW!

The super sexy alpha billionaire bad boys of Lust will leave you breathlessly begging for more.

At over 3,000 pages long, this mega collection contains ten full-length novels (each over 300 pages) that all contain HEA endings and no cliffhangers. If purchased separately, this collection would cost well over $30!

WARNING – Once you read the first sizzling page, you won’t be able to put this collection down. You’ll be left sleep deprived, but oh so satisfied! With hot and demanding bosses and achingly seductive billionaires, this TEN BOOK COLLECTION indulges every secret desire you’ve ever had.

Happy Reading!

COVER REVEAL: Limited Time Mega Box Set!

The super sexy alpha billionaire bad boys of Lust will leave you breathlessly begging for more.

At over 3,000 pages long, this mega collection contains ten full-length novels (each over 300 pages) that all contain HEA endings and no cliffhangers. If purchased separately, this collection would cost well over $30!

WARNING – Once you read the first sizzling page, you won’t be able to put this collection down. You’ll be left sleep deprived, but oh so satisfied! With hot and demanding bosses and achingly seductive billionaires, this TEN BOOK COLLECTION indulges every secret desire you’ve ever had.

Bestselling author Alice Ward and Jessica Blake bring you to the very edge of every LUST FILLED fantasy you’ve ever had. Contains hundreds of pages of steamy sex and passionate romance.

Here’s what’s included:

Blitzed by the Billionaire – Alice Ward

Behind the Scenes – Jessica Blake

Recipe for Lust – Alice Ward

Wrecked (Crystal Brook Billionaires) – Jessica Blake

Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires) – Jessica Blake

Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) – Jessica Blake

Bluegrass Seduction (The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy) – Alice Ward

Bluegrass Obsession (The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy) – Alice Ward

Bluegrass Rebellion (The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy) – Alice Ward

Torn (Lords of the City) – Alice Ward

All this for one small price for a Limited Time Only!

 

Lust is Coming to You on Amazon this November 25th, on Black Friday!

The post COVER REVEAL: Limited Time Mega Box Set! appeared first on Alice Ward.

NEW RELEASE: Burned is LIVE!

Today I have some very exciting information to share with you.

My latest book, Burned, the third book in my Lords of the City series, is now LIVE and available at Amazon! Grab Your Copy HERE NOW!

In Burned, we meet Quinn Laurent, one of the most sought-after consultants to Chicago’s top businesses. Quinn is too involved with her career to even think about love or even serious dating. That is until she meets Seth.In Seth, Quinn finally meets her match. But, like all the previous Lords of the City hunks, Seth has a past that is top secret, dark, and potentially dangerous.

You’ll have to read the book to find out what it is…

Burned is now ON SALE for ONLY $0.99 for a very LIMITED TIME (or FREE in Kindle Unlimited), to celebrate the new release, so grab your copy HERE TODAY!

The post NEW RELEASE: Burned is LIVE! appeared first on Alice Ward.

A Sneak Peek of my Upcoming Book, Burned!

Chapter One

I tilted my head to the side and studied the long swaths of gold and red. The canvas, illuminated by soft lighting above and beneath it, stood a good six inches taller than me. Upon first inspection, the painting seemed full of violent, aggressive tones, but the more I studied it the more the anger in the piece softened. Now it felt like I was looking at a river of lava, strong and secretly aggressive, but also peaceful and deceptively gentle.

“What do you think?” a male voice asked.

I peeped at the newcomer out of the corner of my eye. Tall, blond, wearing a gray suit and holding a beer in one hand. He reminded me a little of the actor who played Thor. All in all, the guy was decent looking enough. If I was the kind of girl who used a rating system, I’d put him at somewhere around six point five or seven. The kind of guy whose attractiveness might increase if his personality proved to be at least semi-compelling. I’d never seen him around before.

That last one was the bonus. I liked them new, liked my future with them to be uncertain and unbound by any real associations.

“I like it,” I replied uncrossing my arms and turning to face him. “There’s something frenetic about it, but it’s not off putting, oddly enough. I would hang it up in my bedroom.”

I let the word bedroom dangle in the air between us. Blondie took a sip from his bottle. The liquid in it sloshed around. “You come to art openings a lot?”

“Sometimes. But always when it’s my best friend’s.”

His eyebrows went up. “Oh, yeah? And are you an artist?”

“Maybe you could say that. I’m a business consultant.”

“Cool,” he grunted. “Like you help people decorate their offices?” He chuckled, pleased with himself.

My eyes narrowed. His joke wasn’t amusing. “No,” I snapped.

Scratch the hope for a pleasing personality. The dude quickly dropped from a six point five to a one.

A new group of people hovered near the open bar, the young hipster dudes already catching my eye. The man in front of me was cute enough, but our short convo had already betrayed his intelligence level. Or lack thereof.

I gave him my best smile, the general and all-purpose one I pulled out of my handbag to diffuse any situation. “It was nice talking to you. I see someone I need to go say hello to. Have a great night.”

His mouth opened in what might have been a protest, but I was already gone, making my way across the marble floor of the Chicago Artiste art gallery.

I cruised by the group at the bar, checking them out from the corner of my eye. They were all involved in a conversation, laughing and joking together, and didn’t appear to be looking to socialize with anyone else.

Slightly defeated, I clocked the rest of the gallery. Most of the people attending the event were at least in their fifties, women with long necklaces of glass beads and men wearing tweed even though it was August. It was not exactly a twenty-five-year-old single girl’s wet dream.

Thinking about giving up for the night, I located my two best friends and headed in their direction.

Heather and London stood at the end of the drink table, their heads close together in conversation. They’d both done their hair up for the night, the messy updos nearly matching, the only difference the color of their hair; Heather’s blonde hair and London’s brown tresses made for an attractive contrast.

“Quinn, who was that you were talking to?” Heather asked the second I got to her, her big blue eyes going wider. She stirred whatever was in her little plastic cup with a tiny black straw.

“Ugh. No one of interest. I told him I was a business consultant and he made some joke about decorating offices. At least I think it was joke. Hell, maybe he actually wanted to let me know he thinks that’s where I belong.” I grabbed London’s cocktail from her hand and took a swig before passing it back.

“Still,” Heather pressed. “He’s kind of hot.”

My nose wrinkled. “Try talking to him. Trust me, your opinion will change real quick.”

London laughed and asked Heather, “Aren’t you still married?”

“Hey, I can still look.”

“You have a good man. Give the rest of us a chance.”

I defended Heather. “Being with one man for five years sucks. Who wouldn’t be looking at the goods?”

“Hey!” Heather gasped. “I’m not looking to cheat. I love Dan.”

I winked at her, enjoying how easy she was to tease. “That doesn’t mean your vagina doesn’t have its own needs and desires.”

Heather folded her arms and looked away.

“So where is that guy now?” London asked. “Did he leave?”

Heather jutted her chin upward. “Quinn just said that guy was a jerk.”

My gaze floated around the gallery again. The place was filling up, the opening our friend Rory shared with two other artists proving to be a hit. On the other side of the expansive space Rory beamed in the middle of a circle of people, her cocoa skin glowing and her teeth flashing white, as she laughed like it was the best night of her life. Chicago’s lights sparkled behind her, the perfect backdrop to the scene.

Warmth that had nothing to do with the drink I’d stolen from London’s cup filled me. “She looks happy,” I mused out loud.

“Yeah,” London agreed. “This is a great night.”

“She deserves it.”

Someone passed between me and Rory, obscuring my vision. I started to turn away, but then did another take.

H…E…L…L…O.

The stranger was tall, but not more than a head above me—just the way I like it—and possessed broad shoulders and thick brown hair. With a finely lined profile, he looked like he belonged up on the wall with the rest of the art. Blondie from before seemed like less than nothing in comparison to this new man.

As if feeling my gaze on him, the guy turned and looked right at me. His deep blue eyes melded with mine, sealing our gazes together. I couldn’t look away.

I smiled coyly at him, just enough to show my interest, and then turned back toward my friends, not waiting to see what his reaction would be.

If I knew anything about men, he would come over and say hello to me in about thirty seconds. That or he would wait till I was alone, not surrounded by other women, and make his move then.

“What are you grinning about?” Heather asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

I held my breath and waited to see if the guy would do as predicted. A few seconds ticked by. Then another few. Heather started telling London about her sister’s baby shower the next weekend. As inconspicuously as possible, I peeked over my shoulder.

He was gone.

“Damn it.”

“What?” Heather questioned.

“There was a hot guy over there,” I said in a low voice. “And now he’s gone.”

Maybe I hadn’t given the look long enough. I’d turned away too soon. That had to be it.

“Hey!”

I nearly jumped out of my high heels. Rory looped an arm around my waist, her long, tight braids sweeping across my shoulder.

“Hey,” I gasped.

My three friends each gave me their own versions of puzzled looks.

“You okay?” Rory asked. “You sound like you suddenly developed asthma.”

“Yes. Totally. I was just… You surprised me. This turn out is awesome, by the way. And that new piece is even more amazing.”

London and Heather added their agreements.

“Thanks,” Rory smiled. “Are you guys coming to the after party? It’s at Jones Street Pub, right around the corner.”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I snuck another glance around the room. “Hey, did you see that guy who was just here? The one with brown hair.”

“Quinn’s soul mate,” Heather joked.

I playfully jabbed her with my elbow. “Yeah, totally.”

Rory’s eyes drifted to the side as she gave it some thought. “What was he wearing?”

“A t-shirt and jeans.”

“To an art opening?” Heather asked. “Who would do that?”

Rory tapped her jaw. “Are you talking about Seth what’s-his-name?”

“Maybe. I just got a glimpse of him, that’s all.”

Seth. The name fit him perfectly.

Rory shook her head frantically back and forth. “Nu-uh. Quinn, you do not want to go there.”

“Why not? He’s cute.”

“Oh, I know he’s cute. No, it’s because he’s a… I can’t really think of a nice word for it.”

“Spit it out,” I said. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Dick?” London offered.

“Ass?” Heather questioned.

“And like I care?” I put in. “Rory, have you met me? Since when am I looking for a boyfriend?”

Rory sighed. “All right. Have it your way.”

“Okay, so you do know him. Can you introduce us?”

“No, I don’t really know him. I’ve only… heard about him. He’s Justin Pruitt’s friend.”

“What have you heard?” Heather asked.

“Apparently he gets around.”

“Again,” I pointed out. “Do I care? That just means he won’t be lounging around in the morning waiting for me to cook him breakfast. Good. Go. Grab something at the drive through on your way home.”

“You’re so bad,” Heather laughed, her eyes sparkling in a way that said she actually loved it.

I winked at her again. I wasn’t actually mean to men. Though I didn’t have a regular boyfriend, I liked to think I treated my lovers with a fair amount of decency.

“It looks like he’s gone,” London said. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

I sighed. “Damn. Looks like it’s sexist, poor man’s Thor after all.”

London giggled. “Maybe his skills in bed will make him a little easier on the eyes.”

Rory stared. “Huh?”

“Never mind.” I squeezed her hand. “You go schmooze. Do your thing. We’ll see you at the bar.”

Twenty minutes later, London, Heather and I walked arm in arm down the sidewalk. I skirted a large heap of trash, barely avoiding getting my stilettos stuck on a plastic bag. “I can’t believe that Seth guy left,” I mumbled.

London laughed. “What did you expect? For him to rush across the room and just dive into your vagina?”

“No,” I pouted. “But I gave him the look.”

“The come-hither look?”

“Yes.”

She laughed again. “Poor Quinn Laurent. Her first time ever being turned down. Don’t worry, you’ll get over it. The rest of us have to deal with it on a regular basis, by the way.”

“Oh, whatever. Don’t act the victim. Men are falling all over you.”

From the other side of London, Heather spoke up. “Maybe he heard you chew men up and spit them out.”

“Hey,” I snapped, seriously annoyed. “I don’t do that! Guys know what they’re in for, okay? It’s not like I make them any promises. Besides, most of them aren’t looking for anything long-term anyway.”

Heather opened her mouth to argue, but London interrupted. “Everyone does their own thing. Quinn doesn’t have time for a serious boyfriend.”

“Thank you,” I pointedly told her, still annoyed at Heather. “Now let’s go get some drinks.”

The pub was narrow and long, as well as packed. We pushed our way through, angling our bodies toward the counter in hopes of snagging a bartender. Halfway down the bar Rory sat engaged in a conversation with a gray haired man. No doubt she would be occupied most of the night. If so, I would just have to send her a text tomorrow to tell her once more how great the opening was.

“You guys go find a spot,” I told Heather and London. “I’ll get drinks.”

I turned sideways and pushed myself up against the bar. The nearest of the two bartenders mixed a drink two patrons down. I kept my eyes on him, ready to grab his attention the second he turned my way.

“What are you drinking?” a male voice only inches away asked.

I cocked my hip and glanced to my side, ready to accept the invitation to flirt… then froze.

Deep blue eyes. Rich brown hair. That strong jaw.

“Well, hello Seth,” I replied, letting his name smoothly roll off of my tongue.

If he was surprised to find I knew his name he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave me a half smirk. Up close the stubble on his jaw was visible, as well as a thin scar cutting through his right eyebrow. I hadn’t noticed the scar before. It made him even more attractive, gave him character and the mystery of a dangerous past. Had he gotten it in a fight? A daring attempt to rescue someone from the wreckage of a car accident?

“So what are you drinking?” he asked again, at the same time the bartender came up and pointed at me like I was already wasting his time.

“Three vodka cranberries,” I told the bartender.

Seth quickly spoke up. “And a pale ale.”

The bartender nodded and hurried off.

I turned back to Seth. “Thanks, but I’m getting my friends’ drinks.”

And I won’t make you pay for all of us.

His lips perked up, showing off a lopsided smile. “What brought you to the gallery tonight?”

I leaned my back against the bar and looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, pretending to take my time with my answer. Really, I was just giving him a good view of my figure. Though not as tall as I’d like to be, I was pretty darn proud of my curves. Having Seth approach me after thinking he’d bailed at the opening gave me a big boost of confidence. It felt good to know that the brief and silent exchange in the gallery had left an impression on him. It’d been a while since I lost hold of a guy I wanted, and I wasn’t quite ready to experience the bitter taste of defeat again.

“I know one of the artists,” I told him, lowering my gaze back down onto his eyes. “Rory Marsden. Do you know her?”

“Not really,” Seth said, placing an elbow against the bar and leaning into it. “My friend knows her. He told me he was going to this tonight and so I tagged along.”

“And what did you think of the art?”

“It wasn’t really my thing.”

“Oh… None of it?”

“Yeah, not really.”

My expectations plummeted. He’d quickly dismissed the art while, presumably, trying to pick me up. He could have at least pretended to like my friend’s show. “I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of art do you like?”

He shrugged. I remembered Heather’s snide jab about wearing a t-shirt and jeans to an art opening. I didn’t think it was such a big deal… until Seth basically admitted he didn’t like art.

So he didn’t have any pride when it came to personal style or interest in art. Okay. I could overlook one of those things.

But together they were a little difficult.

Just a minute into the conversation and I was already losing interest in this guy.

Where had the hipsters from earlier gone to? Maybe they’d splintered off from their group and were now in approachable singles or pairs.

Then again…

I eyed the muscles of Seth’s arms. I wasn’t looking for much from a guy. With my crazy work schedule, which often occupied evenings and weekends, all I really had time for was fun. Maybe Seth and I could have a few nice days together. Guys without class still got boners.

“What about you?” he asked. “Did you like the show?”

“I thought it was great,” I quickly said, eager to change the topic. His apathy over my friend’s work annoyed me, and I didn’t want to think about that if I was going to bang him. “So what do you do, Seth?”

“I’m in the Army Reserve.”

“Oh…wow,” I added, my interest gaining with the nearly sure knowledge that the muscles trapped beneath his clothes were as ripped as his arms.

He sidled a little closer, stopping just a few inches away. I let him make the move, keeping my gaze on his face.

“And what about you?” he asked.

“I’m a business consultant.” I eyed him, waiting to see if he would question my expertise. The exchange with the blond doofus at the gallery hadn’t been a rare one. People often questioned my experience, both due to my being twenty-five and a woman. Snidely letting them know I graduated high school a year early and then left NYU in the top five percent of my class often shut them up. I liked to give people a chance before I dropped that part, though, just to see if they really were as sexist and ageist as they seemed.

Sometimes, just to really screw with them, I hinted at how much money I made. But only by casually mentioning my next trip to Europe or the upcoming remodeling of my pool. There were some things a lady never revealed, after all.

“What field do you specialize in?”

“Science and engineering.”

“In-house or externally?”

I suppressed a smile. So Seth could keep up in a conversation. Perhaps art wasn’t his thing, but he had some stats down when it came to other areas of interest.

“Externally. I work with many of the same businesses over and over, but also accept new clients. I have an office downtown with a few other consultants working under me.”

The bartender arrived and set the four drinks down. “Thirty-eight,” he simply said, addressing a spot in the air above my head.

Seth went to pull out his wallet but I quickly slipped a fifty from my clutch and set it on the pock-marked wood. “Keep the change.”

The bartender scooped the bill up and left. Our time was up. Now I needed to make the next move, in the form of inviting Seth over to sit with me and my friends.

“I hear the tech industry around here is headed for tough times,” Seth suddenly said.

I froze and eyed him. “And why do you say that?”

“Because of the numbers coming out of San Francisco.”

I barely managed to swallow my scoff. “Trust me, the industry here is doing better than it ever has. I’m busier than I need to be, and so are all my clients.”

Seth shrugged in a whatever way, then tacked a smile on the end, like that last bit made it all better.

Irritation pricked me. What was this guy’s deal? And did he even know what he was doing, coming over to hit on me and insulting me instead? Was it possible he was really that clueless?

Forget inviting him over to my table. That plan was out the window and never coming back.

I tucked my clutch under my arm, pushed my three drinks together and picked them up. “It was nice talking to you, Seth, but I should get back to my friends.”

“That soon?” he asked, rolling the two simple words seductively over his tongue.

I looked pointedly at him. His tone worked on me, sending delicious shivers down my back, and I hated that. “Yes, that soon,” I nearly snapped, no longer caring about being polite. The guy got under my skin, in both a bad way and a good way, and I didn’t care whether he knew how displeased I’d become or not.

“I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Mahogany,” I lied, spouting out the first stripper-esque name I could think of. “And my friends Cherry and Baby are really thirsty, so I’ll see you around.”

Seth smirked again, making me want to throw the drinks in his face then drag him into the bathroom and fuck him senseless. How could it be that, sometimes, even when I found a man despicable, I still got hot for him? Usually a sour personality lowered a guy’s appeal, like with the blond from earlier, but sometimes that wasn’t the case. It only happened when the man in question was really sexy. Unfortunately, Seth was exactly that.

I didn’t like his cocky attitude… but I liked his face… and his body… and something about the way his eyes settled on my own, like he was working on figuring me out, bit by bit… Because of that I hated him even more.

I expected a jab about the stripper joke, like an inquiry into where the three of us were working that night and whether or not we accepted tips in change.

But he just rested his hand on my wrist. I froze and sucked in a breath through my teeth. The tumblers in my hands shook slightly, the glass clinking together.

If I drop these drinks right now I will never forgive myself. Not… Ever.

Shifting his body ever so slightly toward mine, Seth lowered his voice. “I can’t let you get away just like that… And if you want me to call you Mahogany… That’s just fine with me.”

Holy… Shit.

I gulped, not able to move or speak.

I could tell him to meet me outside in fifteen minutes. I could take him home and screw him and then let him go. Hell, we could even go to a hotel. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about him knowing where I lived and finding me again. I’d done that a couple times before and not felt bad about either occasion.

But I didn’t want to give Seth the satisfaction of having me for even an hour.

I made sure I had full control of my voice before I spoke so that it wouldn’t shake. “Letting me get away is something you’ll just have to live with.”

I stared him down. His eyes didn’t waver from my own. My knees shook a little bit and heat filled me.

Damn him.

It didn’t matter how sexy he was. At this point, he’d offended me beyond reparation. No way could I screw this guy and still hang onto my self-respect. Even if I took him to a hotel and then snuck out while he was taking a post-coital shower.

I pulled my arm from his touch and shimmied through the crowd, doing my best to hold my head high.

Burned will be officially available at Amazon on November 15!

The post A Sneak Peek of my Upcoming Book, Burned! appeared first on Alice Ward.

Ace’s Wild is LIVE!

I’m so excited to announce that my newest release, Ace’s Wild, is now LIVE and available on Amazon!

Ace’s Wild is the second sexy STANDALONE novel in my brand new sports romance series, The Beasts of Baseball, which follows the sexy exploits of the players on the baseball team The Beasts, and the women they love.

This time, it’s all about Ace Newman, the hot and fiery baseball superstar we first met in Rookie Mistake.

Troublemaker… Baseball superstar… Womanizer… Holly has her hands full with the Wild Man, Ace Newman. Will her sweet small-town lifestyle be able to tame his wicked ways?

Will they find the HEA they both deserve?

I won’t spoil the story! You’ll have to read to find out…