I loved you once. A love I thought irrevocable. A love I mistakenly believed could transcend both time and circumstance. Under the influence of my dimwitted, naïve, traitorous heart, I became intoxicated with what I now know was simply a figment of my self-indulgent imagination. So drunk on the feeling, I couldn’t see what was right in front of my face. So foolishly enamored, I blindly followed my heart into the depths of an emotion that would ravage me.
Years later, I know now what I wish I knew then. I am stronger. Smarter. Tougher. I will not allow myself to be broken again.
I loved you.
I raged for you.
I wept for you.
And now, I’m letting you go.
Author’s Note: Under the Influence is the journey of two childhood friends that spans the course of five pivotal years in their lives. It is a story about their discovery of true friendship as it blossoms into first love, their experience of crucial sacrifice and ultimate betrayal, and their endurance of agonizing heartbreak on the way to finding lasting redemption.
Because the truth is, there’s nothing more frightening in my world than those who know you—who really know you. The ones who know your deepest, darkest secrets. The ones who know what you’re going to do before you do it. The ones who know not only what buttons to push when they seek your attention, but also the ones that can be used to completely incapacitate you.
They can be your strength.
But they can also be your weakness.
And just as a chameleon changes color to blend for protection, I’ve learned to evolve into the person I need to be in order to survive the situation at hand, all while keeping people at arm’s length.
Yet sometimes I can’t help but wonder what my true colors would have been had I not been subjected to this life. I question what it would be like to just let someone in, to tell them all of your unforgivable truths and discover they still love you in return.
I find myself utterly fascinated, awe-struck even, that there are people actually capable of truly loving someone without wondering when and how they will be betrayed. However, the knowledge of their existence also saddens me because the cold reality is I will never know that type of love. I will never know the freedom to just be with someone, without pretense or fabrication, without the endless lies and untruths.
Maybe that’s why I keep holding onto Spencer when I know I shouldn’t. When all my instincts scream for me to let her go, to cut those ties and just let her be.
Make sure to sign-up HERE for L. B Simmons newsletter for exclusive teasers.
L.B. Simmons is a graduate of Texas A&M University and
holds a degree in Biomedical Science.
She has been a practicing Chemist for the last 11 years. She lives with her husband and three
daughters in Texas and writes every chance she gets.
Author Note: If you know me, you know my Submission and Corruption books. This is different. This is about love and loss, ambition and talent, and our commitments to ourselves and each other. I don’t close the door on the expression of love, but this is not the usual dirty pleasure.
I don’t need a second chance with him, or a life I thought I had.
While he was out forgetting me to become a movie star, I was building a career out of nothing. A career as a paparazzi, but a career. For a foster kid who bounced around every home in Los Angeles, that wasn’t easy.
This camera is all I have.
He’s nothing to me. Every time I take his picture and sell it, I remind myself that I did it all without him or his approval, his cinnamon smell or his clear green eyes. He lights up the screen like a celestial body, but he’s nothing but a paycheck to me.
He can throw my camera off a balcony, and nothing has to change. We can stay king and queen of the same city, and different worlds.
Except this is Hollywood, and here, anything can happen.
About the Author
CD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did embed TV story structure in her head well enough for her to take a big risk on a TV series structured erotic series called Songs of Submission. It’s about a kinky billionaire hung up on his ex-wife, an ingenue singer with a wisecracking mouth; art, music and sin in the city of Los Angeles.
Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to give the toilets a once-over every couple of weeks or chop a cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
Nell Presley believes that no good can come from love. Her grandparents screwed it up, her parents screwed it up, so why would it be any different for her? She would rather keep it casual and protect herself.
Damon Masters was happy with casual through university but his feelings for Nell develop and he now wants more.
With the aid of Nell’s best friend, Chloe, Damon sets out to smash down the wall Nell’s built around her heart and show her that not all love is doomed to end in disaster. But is Nell be strong enough to let someone in or will Damon end up getting his heart crushed?
This book had me panting, gasping and raving like a madwoman. The twists and turns were so unexpected and the emotion that this book wretched out of me was equally shocking. How can I encapsulate in a review the loving warmth the words in this book blanketed me in? Suffice to say, this book is so fucking good.
I hadn’t read the first in this series, but they’re each a standalone – so don’t worry if you haven’t. Of course, now I want to read all of Natasha’s books. This dual POV kept me glued to the pages. The characters are completely likeable, the passion is intense (Nell and Damon are practically rabbits), and the drama threw me for such an incredible loop that I could.not.put.it.down.
I think it was about 60% in when I lost my shit. I had to take deep breaths for fear that I was going to reach through the pages and twist off Damon’s balls. Sweet mother of fuck, I was angry. AND YET I WAS STILL ON HIS SIDE. How?! What?! Who?! This story tweaked and twisted until I was upside down. I so loved that.
Nell’s reluctance for a relationship is all explained by the end and it completely caught me off guard. Usually I can spy a storyline from a mile away, but this one surprised me. Nell’s independent spirit is fostered by the love of her friends, Chloe and Logan, and her fuck-buddy-turned-more?-maybe?, Damon. She’s funny, witty, and super snarky. Just like Damon, I couldn’t get enough her Nell – even when she was being difficult.
This book is written well. It’s made up of beautifully crafted characters, who each lean upon the other in a vital way, and each scene pushes purposefully to the next. I fell into this story and lost track of time, space and even my husband. It was awesome.
That ending had me foolishly grinning – so well done, Natasha. You deserve every single one of those five stars!
[I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review]
About Natasha Preston:
UK native Natasha Preston grew up in small villages and towns. She discovered her love of writing when she stumbled across an amateur writing site and uploaded her first story and hasn’t looked back since.
She enjoys writing NA romance, thrillers, gritty YA and the occasional serial killer.
This is a standalone and a spin off of the New York Times best selling Until Series
Wes Silver wasn’t looking for love, but when July Mayson literally knocks him on his ass during their first encounter, his world is turned upside down by the quirky blonde, and every moment with her makes him more determined to protect her.
July Mayson doesn’t understand the pull she feels toward the bad boy biker Wes Silver, but she knows being with him is like nothing she’s ever felt before. Now all she has to do is tell her overprotective father, Asher Mayson, that she’s found her boom.
REVIEW
This is one MC book that I will wave around, hold it high, and tell everyone to GO READ NOW. Everyone has the storylines that they love – whether it be a billionaire, a rocker, a fighter, a blue collar guy – and I know that MC books are super popular, but they haven’t been my jam. So I was a little hesitant to review this one, but the blurb called out to me. This book made me reevaluate my firm denial everytime my husband talks about getting a motorcycle….
Wes owns a bike shop and heads up the MC; but he’s not a bad guy. NO REALLY. He’s former military, like many of the other members, and they don’t do anything illegal (i.e. sell drugs, commit murder, engage in human trafficking, etc.). Thank Fuck. It’s like MC light. Anything that they do that walks along the lines of the law is only to stop someone from breaking it – so I was totally ok with that.
Wes’ dominant and possessive side was actually pretty adorable. July can hold her own against him and I loved their saucy banter. But Wes just can’t leave July alone. After seeing her smile and hearing her laugh, he’s basically a done deal. He just has to convince July of the same thing. Wes’ persistence pays off and when they finally get together my chest was heaving a little. PHEW.
July & Wes take things slow – there was still no actual sex 50% into the book, which would sometimes bother me, but not with this one. Aurora writes the build up between Wes and July so well that I was about ready to explode. I LOVED the scene when July finally takes him over the edge. No spoilers, just know that it’s totally worth the wait.
When July is targeted by a dangerous group of men, Wes will do anything to keep her safe. The question is – will he be able to?
There’s so much drama, love, & fun here that I couldn’t help but love this one. Give me more please!!!
[I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review]
I sit up when I see a few bikes in the distance. I don’t recognize their patches, but that doesn’t surprise me. Tennessee has a huge MC community, and there are always new clubs popping up all over the state. I slow down as I close the distance between us.
The closer I get, the more details I can make out. The group of about five bikes in front of me are all Harleys, all ranging in colors from almost purple to black. None of the men are wearing helmets, which is the complete opposite of me, who is covered from head to toe in black leather. Even my helmet is all black, with leather piping.
I take the men in, noticing they are all well-built, their leather cuts displaying a large eagle, with its wings spread wide like it’s midflight. The talons of the bird are carrying a long stem rose, with petals falling off it onto their club name, The Broken Eagles. I begin to speed up and pass them one by one, thankful for the security of my helmet, the black visor making it impossible to see me.
I keep my head straight until the last guy, the one who is at the front of the group, catches my attention. From the back, his hair is the first thing I notice. It’s slightly long on top and buzzed on the sides. My eyes move to the expanse of his back, the wide set of his shoulders, and the tan skin covering his lean muscles. His bike is low to the ground, and the bars are in front of him in a way that he has to stretch his arms straight out, causing every muscle to flex and move, making it look like the tattoos are alive and dancing.
My eyes skim farther down over his chest, which is covered in a white tank top tucked into a pair of light jeans, and around his waist is a black belt with a large silver buckle. I continue to pass him, my eyes shifting from the road to him and back again. This time when I look over, his head is turned towards me, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have swear he is looking directly into my soul.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, taking in his hair, the set of his jaw that is covered in days of stubble, and a pair of light eyes I can’t quite make out through the tint of my helmet. He is seriously hot, but equally scary-looking. I look from him back to the road. It must not have been even a second, but when my eyes go to the asphalt in front of me, I see a bird that is trying to make its way across the road, its wing hanging in an awkward position. I swerve to the right just in time to miss the poor animal.
“What the fuck?” I hear roared, and I look over my shoulder at the man who is now coming up quick on my right side. I yell an apology over the sound of my engine and his pipes. Do a quick wave and take off, lowering my body and pulling back the throttle, wanting to get away from them. Dude looks seriously pissed off, and even though I hate leaving the bird behind without helping it, I would like to live to see my next birthday.
I think I’m in the clear, but then the sound of pipes fills my ears, and I don’t even know how it happens, but they all catch up with me, surrounding my bike. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but my stomach starts to roll at the sound of their voices. I feel my side to make sure I have the Taser my dad insisted I carry.
I see a clearing and pull my bike off to the side of the road. I know this is probably one of the stupidest things I have ever done, but if they keep chasing me like they have been, we could all end up seriously hurt. I pull over and don’t even shut down my bike. I just lower my kickstand as my heart, which was already beating hard, begins to bang violently against my ribcage as they surround me.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the guy who was at the head of the group asks, stepping in front of my bike.
I shake my head as my words get lodged in my throat.
He pulls me off my bike, and the men who are with him begin yelling obscenities as well.
“Sorry,” I croak out, and I don’t even know if he hears me as his hand goes to the collar of my leather jacket, where he shakes me hard. My hand accidently presses down on the button that ignites the Taser. The loud crack fills the air, and his eyes go wide then he falls to the ground, and I fall on my ass and crabwalk backwards. I look up when I hit something, only to meet the eyes of another man, who looks pissed.
“Get up,” he growls, picking me up. My feet flail under me as I’m lifted off the ground with my hands restrained behind my back.
“Hold him still,” the guy who I had tasered growls in front of me as I try to get away from the anger I feel coming off him. His hands go to my head and he rips my helmet off, causing my hair to float down around me.
Complete silence descends. I swear no one even takes a breath.
Aurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who’s husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She’s married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it’s beauty.
Some women always get it right. Kindergarten teacher, Meg Thompson, on the other hand, consistently makes the wrong decisions — and she is currently single, pregnant and alone. Meg is determined to make changes in her life, to be a better mother than her own had been. No revolving door of men. No man, period. Just a single-minded focus on her baby. Her resolution would be easier to keep if not for hot cop, Scott Dare. He insinuates himself in her life, making Meg want to believe in happily ever after, even if history has taught her to know better.
When Scott Dare hears Meg’s friends are determined she have a night of hot sex, before her life changes forever, he decides that man must be him. Their one night is mind blowing and life altering. And Scott, a man already burned by his ex-wife, finds himself all in anyway. While protecting Meg from her violent ex and becoming part of her increasingly complicated life, he’s falling hard and he can’t seem to find distance. Not when their bodies respond to each other with such heated intensity and he’s drawn to her unique combination of strength and vulnerability.
But Meg’s future is one Scott has accepted he’ll never have, even if his growing feelings say otherwise …
Carly Phillips combines the perfect amount of heat, passion, drama and suspense in yet another daring adventure. I can’t pick which Dare brother I love most. Dominant, vulnerable and always loyal – Scott Dare lived up to every expectation I had.
Meg has the WORST luck ever in picking men. Ever since she fell in love with – and was then forced to move on from – Dylan Dare she’s only thrown herself at the bad boys who allow her to cling but who also suck up every single ounce of her generosity. Example numero uno: her baby daddy. OH, DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU – Meg’s pregnant. She’s single. She’s pregnant. and she’s determined to be ok on her own this time. She does not need a man. No, nope. She’s sure doesn’t.
Enter Scott Dare, the delicious specimen of a man who has his sights set of Meg. He knows that she’s pregnant and he could give a flying fuck. He looks into her eyes and connects. Scott and Meg are a force to be reckoned with. That passion that flies off these pages is totally Carly and purely HOT.
Scott says all the right things…until he doesn’t. Could I have wanted to kick him in the balls more? NO I COULD NOT HAVE. But of course, there are so many sweet and loving moments too where I think I swooned myself to death. GAH, so good.
There are plenty of Dare sibling cameos to satisfy your craving for what’s going on in that insanely huge and loving extended Dare family. And, most importantly, there are some amazing sex scenes that will have you needing a cold shower.
I can never get enough of Carly’s writing and I love that she always gives me a perfectly seasoned light and fun story that somehow she knows I crave. Love this one!
[I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review]
Excerpt:
Some women always managed to get it right. To make the right choices, to pick the right man, to nail this crazy thing called life. Meg Thompson, on the other hand, managed to end up single and pregnant. But she couldn’t regret the baby growing inside her, and from now on, she was determined to get things right.
She pulled on her favorite pair of jeans, tugged them up over her hips, and unsuccessfully attempted to close the button. She grunted and lay down on the bed, pulling the sides closer together but no luck. She wriggled, sucked in a deep breath, and tried again, only to end up huffing out a stream of air in frustration.
“Didn’t these fit just last weekend?” she asked herself, peeling the denim off her legs and tossing them onto the floor with a groan.
She glanced down at her still-flat stomach, placing her hand over her belly. “How could something I can’t see or feel cause so much upheaval in my life?” And how could she love the baby growing inside her so much already?
A vibrating buzz told her someone was sending her a message. She checked her phone.
Lizzy: Almost ready?
Meg sighed. Her best friend, Elizabeth Cooper, was due to pick her up in ten minutes. Girls’ night out. Or, in Lizzy’s words, hookup night and Meg’s last chance for a hot, no-holds-barred fling before she started to show and her sole focus became being a new mom. Meg was up for girls’ night, but no way would she be picking up a stranger for a one-night stand. Her days of choosing the wrong men were over. Mike was the last in a long line of sucky choices. So not only didn’t she trust her judgment when it came to the opposite sex, it no longer mattered. She was finished relying on men to define her or make her happy.
“Right, baby?” She patted her belly and headed to her closet for a pair of elastic-waist leggings.
* * *
Meg and her friends settled into their seats at Mel’s, a popular spot for casual drinks after work and on the weekends. Mel’s was a dimly lit bistro with a wood-fired oven and grill in the back, dark mahogany-looking tables throughout, and a funky bar where people gathered. Meg loved it here.
She waved to the waiter, who stepped over to their table.
“What can I get you ladies?”
The girls ordered alcoholic drinks, and the good-looking waiter turned to Meg.
“I’ll have a club soda. With a lime.”
“Going for the hard stuff, I see.” He winked and scribbled down her order.
Meg smiled. “Designated driver.” Which wasn’t a lie. Lizzy might have picked her up, but Meg would be the one driving home.
She glanced around at the women she’d ignored for a long time in favor of her asshole ex and, unfortunately, her baby daddy. She was grateful these women were here for her now because Meg had a bad habit of dropping friends in favor of men. Men she looked to for the love and acceptance she’d never received from her own father she barely remembered. Meg sighed and rested her chin on her hands. Her childhood memories included a string of Alicia’s boyfriends who came and went from her young life.
Her mother had set a pattern Meg unconsciously followed. First she’d latched on to Dylan Rhodes, the one and only good guy in her life. He’d been her high school boyfriend and her rock until they broke up before going to college, and then Meg began emulating her mother’s taste by choosing men who always took advantage one way or another.
Luckily she and Dylan had reconnected when they’d moved back to Miami years later, but Meg had over-relied on Dylan instead of standing on her own two feet. It took Dylan falling hard for another woman to wake Meg up to her too-needy ways. Dylan was her friend, but he was now Olivia Dare’s husband. And Meg was determined to be independent. Everything the way it should be.
“Earth to Meg.” Lizzy waved a hand in front of her eyes.
Meg blinked, startled. “Sorry. Just got lost there for a minute.”
“Nowhere good, from the look on your face.” Lizzy tilted her head to one side, her long blonde curls falling over her shoulder. “Everything okay?” Her friend studied her, her brown eyes soft and concerned.
Meg smiled. “Couldn’t be better. I was actually thinking about the changes I’ve made—that I’m determined to keep making in my life. And it’s really good to be out with you guys,” Meg said, meaning it.
“It’s great to be out with you too,” Lizzy said.
The waiter stopped by the table and passed out their beverages. Meg took a long sip of her cold soda, appreciating the way it eased her dry throat.
“Well, you must be doing something right because you’re glowing,” Lizzy said.
“It’s the pregnancy hormones,” Meg muttered.
“No, seriously. You look beautiful,” her friend insisted.
Meg smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Allie Mendez, the office secretary and the third woman in their posse, slipped her cell into her purse and leaned closer to join the conversation. “Maybe I should get myself pregnant, because Lizzy’s right. You’re gorgeous.”
Meg blushed. “And you two need glasses.”
“Not if the guys at the next table are any indication. Look. The blond one can’t take his eyes off you!” Lizzy said, her voice rising in excitement.
Oh no. All Lizzy needed was a target and she’d be aiming Meg his way all night. “I’m sure he’s looking at one of you. Not the pregnant woman in the elastic-waist pants.” Lizzy and her blonde beauty or Allie and her olive skin and luscious curves attracted men wherever they went.
“You must not have looked in a mirror before leaving the house,” Allie told her, a frown on her pretty face.
“Oh, look! He’s coming this way. Now remember. There’s nothing wrong with getting yourself some before your life gets serious.” Lizzy nudged her arm.
“I don’t want some,” Meg muttered. “If he’s so hot, you should—”
“Hi, ladies,” the man said, bracing an arm on the back of Meg’s chair.
“Hi!” Lizzy said too brightly.
“My friends and I would like to buy you all a drink.” He spoke to the table, but his eyes were on Meg.
She shook her head. “We were just having a private convers—”
“We’d like that,” Allie chimed in.
“Mind if we join you then?” he asked, making Meg wonder if he was dense, oblivious, or just that ego-driven.
In response, Lizzy slid her chair away from Meg, making room for the other man to sit. Which, after grabbing his chair and pulling it over to the table, he did. His pals joined them too.
Meg shot her friend an annoyed look.
“Give him a chance,” Lizzy mouthed behind the man’s back.
Rob, Mark, and Ken, they said their names were, as conversation began to flow. Ken was the one closest to Meg, and with his light hair and coloring, he definitely resembled his Barbie-doll namesake. Even if she were interested in a hookup, a preppy man who liked to talk about himself wouldn’t be her choice. She disliked his wandering hands even more.
He brushed her back.
She stiffened.
He sat forward so their shoulders touched. She shoved her chair in the opposite direction.
Somehow he ended up close beside her again, his thigh touching hers.
She was all too ready to go home, but her friends seemed to like the guys they were talking to, and she didn’t want to ruin their time by being rude to Ken. She wouldn’t leave with him, but she’d be pleasant while they were here.
“So what do you do for a living?” he asked.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
He blinked, long lashes framing green eyes. “That’s … brave.”
“Don’t like kids?” she asked, none too sweetly.
He fake-shuddered. “Not for a good long while. But you must have a decent pension plan?” he asked, back on the subject he liked best. Ken was a stockbroker and investor, and soon she found herself listening to all the ways she could save more money by investing with the best of the best. Him, of course.
She hid a yawn behind her hand, and when her bladder informed her she needed a trip to the restroom, she nearly groaned out loud in relief.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go … freshen up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Meg rose and Ken followed, helping her pull out her chair.
Allie met her gaze. “Gentleman,” she mouthed in approval.
Meg swallowed a groan.
“I’ll be waiting,” Ken said as she walked away.
“Oh, please don’t be,” she said to herself, making her way to the bathroom at the far back of the restaurant.
She spent a long time in the restroom, checking her phone, swiping some gloss on her dry lips, and washing her hands, twice, in her effort to stall returning to the table.
When she did, she paused by Lizzy’s chair and whispered in her friend’s ear. “I’m going to bail. I’m not up to this. I’m really sorry. Will you be okay driving?”
“Of course. I barely had a sip. But I can leave and take you home.”
She shook her head. “No need. You seem to be hitting it off with Mark. I can get Uber,” she said of the car service in most cities, including Miami.
“I’d be happy to drive you,” Ken said.
She hadn’t realized he’d left his seat and had overheard them.
“No, really. Stay and have fun. I’m just not feeling too well.” Which was a lie, but it was nicer than go away, I’m not interested.
Which was ironic, since not too long ago, Meg would have been all too willing to see where things went with a guy who showed her any interest at all. Maybe the baby really was changing her, making her more self-reliant and aware as well as giving her better taste in men.
“Then you really shouldn’t go home alone,” Ken said, grasping her forearm.
Oh no, he didn’t. She pinned him with an annoyed glare. “Let. Go.” And what was it about her that attracted assholes anyway? she asked herself, as she tried to extricate herself without resorting to insults or calling management.
Lizzy jumped up from her seat just as the jerk released her arm, and a familiar voice reverberated in her ear.
“Touch her again and you’ll answer to me.”
About Carly Phillips:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carly Phillips N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Carly Phillips has written over 40 sexy contemporary romance novels that today’s readers identify with and enjoy. After a successful 15 year career with various New York publishing houses, Carly is making the leap to Indie author, with the goal of giving her readers more books at a faster pace at a better price. Her Serendipity books will still finish up in January/February 2014 via Berkley as planned. Carly lives in Purchase, NY with her family, two nearly adult daughters and two crazy dogs who star on her Facebook Fan Page and website. She’s a writer, a knitter of sorts, a wife, and a mom. In addition, she’s a Twitter and Internet junkie and is always around to interact with her readers. You can find all information about Carly at her website and other social media sites …
The third installment of the Only series. Must be read in order.
Grayson and Emma. First love. True love. And… they have a daughter. Abandonment is his curse. He left his woman, survived his team, and missed the moment most precious to a father. Until now.
I didn’t know you were killing yourself with work. I didn’t know you’re raising our daughter. So help me God, had I known, there is no military force on earth that would’ve kept me from you.
Love needs to heal all, or they won’t survive the collision of their separate lives. Emma must reach deep into her heart that is barely hanging on and find forgiveness. Grayson, wrecked with PTSD-filled nightmares, must prove that he’s here to stay and able to rebuild his family against all odds.
I need to say I love you. But what I mean is I love you–in a way that defies definition and exists only in a world that you and I are in.
Only for Us is the third installment in the Only series. All novellas will release Spring 2015.
Cristin Harber is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author. She writes sexy, steamy romantic suspense and military romance. Readers voted her onto Amazon’s Top Picks for Debut Romance Authors in 2013, and her debut Titan series was both a #1 romantic suspense and #1 military romance bestseller.
The Rafflecopter is loaded with e-books, signed paperbacks, swag and gift cards from these amazing authors! Make sure you enter!
We are highlighting The Autism Society this week. With more than 50 years of service to the autism community, they are one of the nation’s leading grassroots autism organization. Please consider supporting their efforts!
Take a look at this book blitz for Libby Austin’s Reft!! Included is an excerpt and giveaway!
About Reft:
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. ~
Newton’s Third Law of Motion
Brandon “Brand” Carmichael’s life was the stuff dreams were made of…too bad it was an illusion. As a guitarist for Inert Motion, Brand traveled the world, performing with his brothers in all but blood. He never stopped moving all the while his mind played in a never ending loop. Now outside influences have changed the band’s course, leaving Brand’s life void of the balance he craved. Once again, his dream had become a recurring nightmare. Brand coped the only way he knew how; retreat into solitude.
Magdalena “Layna” Delacroix had achieved the long sought goal of her Ph.D. in Psychology, but success came at a high cost: over one hundred thousand dollars in debt. After being presented with the opportunity to fulfill her desire to help someone in the aftermath of tragedy, along with earning enough money to clear her debt and start a psychology practice of her own, Layna had to balance the means against the outcome. Could she be the force to stop the downward spiral of someone who refused to seek help?
Neither Brand nor Layna expected the reaction they had to one another. It was the opposite of everything they sought.
Could Layna live a lie while pushing Brand to live in the truth?
Would Brand forgive her for committing one unforgivable sin?
“Sometimes I get in the zone and everything else gets tuned out. I forget to eat and sleep, or even what day it is. Things just blur together when I’m focusing. It’s like my mind can only devote itself to the creative. And I had a disagreement with my brother, which didn’t help matters.”
“Oh, do y’all fight a lot?” she asked while continuing to chow down on her syrup with a side of waffles. “My siblings and I fought all the time growing up, but now that we’re older, we get along much better, as long as we don’t have to share a room or a bathroom.”
“Not so much anymore. We did when we were younger. Then we didn’t talk for a long time.” My truth-telling danced a fine line. One conversation with my mom about Barrett and me having contact and everything would come crashing down. I loved my parents, but I couldn’t let go of Barrett again, not even for them.
“What made you, or him, get back in touch after not talking for such a long time?”
“Umm, well, uhh, I guess somewhere around the time Bow and Danelle got married, the dynamic of the band started changing. There was just a lot going on; Joker and Ruff stopped trying to kill each other and started fuc—dating each other, and then Touch met Kaitlyn and all of their shit went down, and I realized that even though my band had been my surrogate family for years, I needed my real family, my blood and my best friend since the beginning. So I began trying to reach out to Barrett, and one day, he responded.
“It’s been nice catching up with him and talking about all the things I’ve done with the band and stuff. He kept track of it all. We talk pretty much every day now, except when he’s pissed at me.”
“Does he ever come to visit? Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him while I’m here. If he’s half as pushy as you are, I might like him,” she claimed with a smile, but panic rose inside me. Not because she thought I was pushy or she might like him better—Barrett and I had never been the type to compete or fight over a girl—but she wanted to meet him. Total no-go situation.
“Yeah, he probably won’t make it anytime soon. He’s got other obligations right now. But, uhh, but I need you to promise me you won’t tell my parents or your mom about Barrett.” My hands clinched the hard bench seat and my legs bounced up and down nervously. I didn’t know why I couldn’t keep my mouth shut around her, or just stay the fuck away from her.
“Why’s that?” By now, she’d stopped eating and was focusing on me, studying me, looking at me as if she could see the thoughts ripping through my head like a natural disaster in the making.
“They don’t talk to each other. My parents have, uhh, they have a different view of Barrett. He doesn’t want contact with them, and it’s just easier for everyone if they don’t know he’s talking to me. I don’t want to hurt them.”
“Do you think you could help them heal their rift before it’s too late and it can’t be fixed?”
“It’s already too late. The only thing I can do is try to salvage what I have left and not cause any more damage or harm or pain to anyone else.” I stopped and thought for a moment before I said anything else. “I shouldn’t have even told you; something about you makes you easy to talk to. But I need you to promise me that you aren’t going to repeat the things we talk about or that you see to my mom, your mom, or anyone else for that matter. If you can’t do that, we can’t be friends, or even friendly neighbors.”
Layna looked me directly in the eye. I’d always heard a person’s soul and true intentions show through the eyes, telling you if their intentions were good or bad. The look in Layna’s eyes told me her intentions were good.
“Brand, I promise I won’t repeat the things you tell me or that I see to your parents or mine.”
I took her promise at face value. What I should have remembered was the saying about good intentions and the road to hell being paved with them. I knew all about good intentions, and I knew all about hell. I’d lived in my own personal tormented version of hell for over a decade.
About the Author:
One day some words came to mind, so I wrote them down. Soon the words became sentences, which formed paragraphs, which, in turn, formed chapters. Before long, those words had become a book.
When I’m not reading or writing, I’m a wife, mother, and business owner. I’ve lived on the Gulf, East, and West Coasts, but as a born and raised Southern girl, my favorite will always be the Gulf Coast. There’s just no place like home…
Winter Donovan loves two things: her sister and her sister’s ex boyfriend. She’s spent her whole life doing the right thing except that one time, that night when Finn O’Malley looked hollowed out by his father’s death. Then she did something very wrong that felt terribly right.
Finn can’t stop thinking about Winter and the night and he’ll do anything to make her a permanent part of his life, even if it means separating Winter from the only family she has.
Their love was supposed to be unrequited but one grief stricken guy and one girl with too big of a heart results in disastrous consequences.
Review:
It’s good. Really good. And I mean everything – the writing, the storyline, the character development, the plot twists. It’s all unbelievably crafted, which results in a really good story. I’m always a little wary of ‘my sister’s ex boyfriend’ type books, but this one didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I wanted to punch Ivy (the sister) in the face and call it a day.
Winter & Finn’s connection is so much more than a one-night stand, which is what Winter has convinced herself that night was. The night that she finally was able to throw herself at Finn the way that she’s wanted to for years. This book contains some of the best and hottest sex scenes I’ve ever read. You know the difference – there are scenes that you sort of skim through because the writing is ehhhhhh, and then there are scenes where your body is heating up and you’re seeking out your partner to finish what that damn book started. FUCK. Yea, that. This one has all of that.
Finn’s not sure why Winter calms him so deeply, but he starts to crave the feeling she gives him when she’s near: complete peace. Winter feels it too but she’s terrified of losing her sister and losing her trust. When Ivy drops a major bomb on Winter, she’s close to crumbling. Her want for Finn starts to be torn by the need of her sister. This girl is balancing the world on her shoulders, and I just wanted someone to kick the globe off of her.
I eagerly flipped the pages to find out what happened and I will definitely dive back into Jen Frederick’s books to find out what i missed in the first few in this series. Loved it!!
[I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review]
Excerpt
CHAPTER TWO
WINTER
He didn’t give me much time. Inside the trailer, I got a glimpse of a desk piled high with papers, empty bottles of beer and pop, and a backpack with clothes spilling out of it before Finn began tearing at my clothes. He had my top off and was peeling my jeans and underwear off my legs before I took two breaths.
The motion put his face level with my crotch. “Well, fuck me. What have we got here? Bare, are you?” He stated the obvious. He ran his hand ran over the smooth skin, and I stifled a moan.
“I don’t like pubic hair.”
“No shit.” He stroked his hand between my legs. “You are no end of surprises. Are you more sensitive?”
“Yes, I think so.”
He dropped his hand between his legs.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m squeezing my balls so I don’t come in my pants.” He huffed a few times and then slid a hand up the back of my legs, stopping just below my butt. “Open up. I want to know how you taste.”
I was glad he was holding me because the minute his tongue touched my clit, my knees buckled. His hands lifted me, and my butt met the cold steel top of his desk. I felt, rather than heard, his low chuckle. “You taste fucking delicious.”
He spun around and found his chair. Then he settled between my legs and dived in.
If I’d thought he was a good kisser, it was only because I hadn’t had him do anything else to me.
He worked his tongue against my clit and pussy like he was discovering the secrets of the world with each pass of his tongue along my flesh. Each touch was strong yet tender.
“Oh, Finn.” I clutched at his hair, grabbing fists of it in each hand. The feelings he was generating were so intense, I didn’t know if I should push him away or pull him closer.
He pushed my thighs apart, wider than I realized they could go, exposing every inch of me to him. I didn’t feel embarrassed, not with the happy noises he was making, not with the avid way he ate at me.
I was out of my mind with pleasure. When his fingers joined the party, there was no way I could stop the orgasm. Why would I want to?
He rose, and bereft of his intimate touch, I felt awkward. He was still completely clothed, and I was buck ass naked on his desk. “We’re wrecking your desk. And I feel weird. You have too many clothes on.”
“Best use of this desk ever,” he said. “Besides, you aren’t going to be the only one naked.” He tore at his jeans, and I tried to lean over to help. He brushed my hands away.
“Don’t touch me. I’m this close to losing it, and I want my first time to be inside you.” He cupped my face and kissed me.
He kept undressing. He toed off his boots. His jeans fell to the floor, and he kicked them aside. His socks followed and then his T-shirt in the one-arm-behind-the-back, over-the-head move that guys master when they are three.
He stood in front of me, hard muscle covered in pale skin. His large, thick-veined cock bobbed between us, and for a second I paused to wonder if he was going to fit inside me without an aid—like a bottle of lube.
He fished a couple of condoms from inside his jeans pocket and laid them on the desk. I shut out what that meant—how he’d had them ready and more than one. It was only for one night. That was all I wanted too.
So I watched as he rolled the nearly clear material over his heavy, erect shaft. The sight of him handling his member had me squirming on the desk. He reached his free hand between my legs, testing my readiness, and then held me open for him.
“Tell me if it hurts.”
I bit my lip as the broad head opened me. Dots of sweat appeared on his forehead, as if the effort he exerted to keep from hammering inside was harder than building a house.
My head fell back as he eased out. His mouth found a sensitive place on my neck and then another on my shoulder right above the crease of my arm. He tucked his hands under my butt and drew me closer as my body opened and welcomed his.
He was large, much larger than I’d ever had, and I felt stretched to the hilt.
“You’re so goddamned tight,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He pushed forward relentlessly until he was sheathed inside my body from tip to base. “Stay still,” he ordered when I began to thrust forward gently.
The scratch of his hair against my bare skin was just one more sensation, and I was finding it hard to remain passive.
His labored breath in my ear was as much of a turn on as his hands roving over every square inch of my body. He was into me as much as I was into him. We were getting lost in each other.
Then he began to move, and the drag of his shaft along my tender tissues made the world tilt on its axis. I’d never be the same again.
He worked me longer than I’d expected. His eyes were closed, and his lower lip between his teeth as if he were concentrating on something very important.
In long, almost leisurely strokes, he pulled out to the tip and then thrust back in. Over and over until my entire focus shrank to the feel of his body moving between my legs. I grappled for leverage. His shoulders were slick with sweat. His biceps were too big for me to curl my hands around.
“More,” I gasped and dug my heels into the small of his back.
His eyes flicked open, just bare slits that in another context could have been menacing, but here were hot brands of need.
He savored me in a way I didn’t know was possible, so I let go. I lay back on the desk and placed my palms flat against the trailer wall, pushing forward to meet every slow thrust. I let him take me in a sweet seduction that turned me inside out, and when I came, I felt it in every nerve, fingertip, and toe.
When I convulsed around him, he let himself go.
“Hold on,” he said. And before I could respond, he planted one hand by my head and the other on my hip. He drove into my body with a force that had the heavy desk rattling against the floor.
I held on as he hammered into me. He shifted once, and then twice, and then his pelvic bone hit my clit just right, and I couldn’t keep my screams inside my body.
He half-laughed, half-groaned and went rigid in my arms, his hips pumping and thrusting until he’d released everything he had.
I held him as the aftermath of his orgasm shuddered down his spine and wondered if I could ever forget this night.
He’d marked me as permanently as any tattoo.
###
He hadn’t been bragging. He had plenty of stamina. After taking me on the desk, he stripped off the condom and grabbed a water bottle I had assumed was empty. He doused his dick and then placed a couple of handfuls of cool water between my legs. We found ourselves on the couch—him on his back with my knees around his head while I took him in my mouth. He was much better at multitasking than me.
Because he’d already come, he lasted longer too. I felt I was orgasming every five minutes while I sat on his face. While I rode cowgirl, which really worked me over. While he bent me over the back of the sofa, one hand on my neck and the other clamped around my hip, pulling me back to him every stroke.
He didn’t come again until we were in the tiny shower in the back of the trailer. There wasn’t room for one person, let alone two, and water was everywhere, but Finn said to ignore it. He was. He was too busy driving his cock inside me.
I tried to memorize it all because this was my only time with him. We dozed on the couch for a little while, and when I woke, little fingerlings of dawn were creeping into the trailer through the slatted blinds.
I took him into my mouth, slowly savoring the musk of his body, inhaling the warm sleep scent of him.
He grew hard and too long for me to take in entirely, so I added my hands, cupping the base and working him at the top until he was pulling my hair away.
“Gonna come,” he said in a gravelly, barely awake voice.
I pushed forward until he hit the back of my throat, and I didn’t stop until he was coming in long, lovely spurts into my mouth.
“I’ll return the favor when my brain falls down from the sky,” he muttered sleepily. I smiled sadly and waited until he fell asleep.
Then I gathered up my clothes and left.
It was a twenty-minute walk back to the café and then a fifteen-minute drive home, but it felt like the longest journey of my life.
Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at jensfrederick@gmail.com.
Rick “Ricochet” Brennan served eight years as an elite Marine special ops Force Recon soldier. After an injury, and the terrible memories from that night, he retires and goes to work for his former Command Officer, Howard “Mack” McEvoy, at his training center in Atlanta.
Sanctum MMA appears on the surface to be a normal gym, training elite fighters to be the best. Except each trainer, hand-picked by Mack, possesses a special background that allows Mack to run one of the best-kept secrets in the country.
When twenty-three year old Quinn Wallace finally escapes her abusive husband, she turns to her father’s old Marine Corps buddy, Mack, for help. Broken and skittish, Quinn finds herself surrounded by large, intimidating men— men who could easily overpower her. She avoids them the best she can, but when Rick turns out to be more than just a rough fighter with bruised knuckles, she finds herself wondering if she can allow herself to trust again.
Review
This three part serial novella set will have you at its mercy until the end. I love me some former military men & this series delivers on that addiction. It doesn’t hurt that they’re also fighters – BONUS.
I was fighting for/with Quinn from the second we were introduced. That girl has been through shit and she’s scarred. She managed to escape from her fuckwit of a husband and she’s starting over. I loved watching her build herself back up again and try to piece together the damaged parts of her soul and it hurt to watch her be so skittish. When she meets Rick, she’s wary – but she has no reason NOT to be.
Rick’s a manwhore. He flits from woman to woman because he can’t deal with emotion. Shocking, I know. But when he meets Quinn, that piece of him that wants to fuck somehow collides with the other piece of him that wants to protect. All of a sudden he finds himself going out of his way to try to make Quinn’s day easier – or trying to make her smile. He’s flooded with confusion, but he knows that he wants her. Every day. Always.
Quinn on the other hand is equally confused but doesn’t handle it as well as Rick. She’s holding tightly to her secrets, afraid that no man could ever love her after what she’s been through.
This dual POV series won me over again and again. I was cheering AND hurting for them. There’s plenty of stubbornness between these two to go around, which was also a little infuriating. They each pull a disappearing act that makes me want to slap them – but, alas, it’s so good.
I loved Quinn’s geekery, her willingness and desire to stand up for herself & her steadfast refusal to compromise her beliefs. As for Rick, his loyalty, devotion & passion for Quinn had me turning to mush. This sweet fighter is a great addition to your book boyfriend list.
If you’re looking for a good, quick, series that will entertain the shit out of you while heating up your inner sex goddess, then you should go one-click now.
[I received an ARC of this series in exchange for an honest review]
Excerpt
“Hey,” he said calmly. “Why aren’t you resting?” Rick put his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging her arms.
Quinn’s eyes grew large and went to his gloved hands.
Fuck, she hates fighting. Now I know why she looks freaked out.
Rick yanked his hands away and took a step back. “I didn’t mean for you to see me fight, Quinn. I’m sorry.”
To his surprise, Quinn stepped forward, closing the distance Rick had put between them. He watched as she hesitantly lifted her arms, placing her hands on his sweat-slicked chest. Her eyes met his and his breath left in a sharp huff. The fear he had expected to see wasn’t there. No… Quinn’s eyes were dark and glistening with lust.
“I didn’t know that watching you fight would be so comforting. It makes me feel safe, and… turned on,” she murmured. Rick shivered as her hands ran down his torso, moving over each defined muscle until they were resting on either side of his waist.
“Turned on?” Rick swallowed, barely able to speak with Quinn touching him like that. She was only just about healed from the attack. He figured it would be months, if not longer before she’d be interested in pursuing anything physical.
“Yes, turned on.” Quinn’s fingers dug into Rick’s waist, her thumbs making small circles on the ‘v’ shaped ridges of his lower abs. Scorching waves of pleasure rippled down his spine, instantly making his cock come to life.
“Jesus,” he muttered softly. Using every last bit of willpower he had, Rick captured Quinn’s wrists, removing her hands from his body. “Not here, doll.” He glanced around, but none of the other fighters were looking their way. Still, he’d kill them if they saw the lust in Quinn’s eyes. That was for him, and him alone.
Quinn pouted, crossing her arms and glaring like a kid denied her favorite candy.
He couldn’t help himself. The sight of this tiny thing trying to look intimidating was funny. Rick laughed. “You’re too much, doll.” The corner of her mouth twitched up—it was just a hint of a smile, but it made Rick’s day. Quinn hadn’t smiled once since his team rescued her. Seeing some of her personality coming back flooded him with emotion.
Recent Comments