Love is a trap, a trick only other people fall for. Former Navy SEAL Nolan has no such illusions. The only things real in his life are his beloved bulldog and the two women in his life. One is soft and innocent, someone he could build a real future with. But the other is dark and gives him all of the wicked things he craves behind closed doors. What starts out as casual quickly becomes complicated. Can he walk away from a sure thing for something that’s foreign territory?

Nolan thinks we met by chance. We didn’t. I sought him out, seduced him, and in return got the sanctuary I needed to survive. But now, impossibly, I’ve fallen in love with him. I don’t care that he has another lover, because when he finds out who I am, it’s going to ruin any chance I ever had with him anyway. She’s the least of my worries.

Bait & Switch is Book 1 in the new contemporary romance series Alphas Undone, which will each feature a new couple.This is a standalone full-length novel. It does not contain cheating.

Amazon ➙ Amazon UK ➙ B&N ➙ iBooks ➙ Kobo

EXCERPT

She hooked one leg over mine, and I rocked my hips into her pelvis to let her feel what she’d done to me. Lacey groaned. “I take it you liked the massage.”

“What gave me away?” I asked, breathing hard against her neck.

“A certain wayward southern appendage.” She ground into me again, her hips moving against mine.

I almost chuckled. Almost called her out for being too prissy to say the word cock . . . until her hand slid down to my jeans to unbutton me.

“Maybe he needs some attention too,” she rasped against my throat.

I hadn’t come here for this and wouldn’t have pressed her, but I also wasn’t going to turn her away. We would take things at whatever pace she wanted.

Tugging down the zipper to her shorts, I was desperate to touch her and bring her pleasure. I pushed my hand inside her shorts, fumbling when she reached down to grip my denim-covered erection. Christ.

My fingers soon found what they were looking for. She gasped as I rubbed in slow circles through her panties. Even with the cotton barrier, I could feel the firm bud of her swollen clit. I sucked in a breath when she tightened her fist, kneading my hard cock.

“Together,” was all she said. But I understood. Only a little impatiently, I waited until she had unzipped my jeans before slipping my fingers under her panties.

I gave a soft groan at the feel of her hot, slick folds. “God, baby, you’re so wet already.”

“All for you,” she murmured huskily. “Touch me, please.”

I obeyed in a heartbeat, echoing her moan when she pulled my cock free and started stroking up and down with whisper-soft strokes.

Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me, Resisting Her and When I Break.

She’s a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.

Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras

New Military Romance from Rebecca Yarros in Hallowed Ground (Book Four) of the

Flight & Glory Series releasing January 25th!

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Blurb

There are some debts you can’t repay.

Josh Walker is loyal, reckless, and every girl’s dream. But he only has eyes for December Howard, the girl he’s craved since his high school hockey days. Together they have survived grief, the military, distance, and time as they’ve fought for stolen weekends between his post at Ft. Rucker and her college at Vanderbilt. Now that Josh is a medevac pilot and Ember is headed toward graduation, they’re moving on—and in—together.

Ember never wanted the Army life, but loving Josh means accepting whatever the army dictates—even when that means saying goodbye as Josh heads to Afghanistan, a country that nearly killed him once before and that took her father. But filling their last days together with love, passion, and plans for their future doesn’t temper Ember’s fear, and if there’s one thing she’s learned from her father’s death, it’s that there are some obstacles even love can’t conquer.

Flight school is over.

This is war.

Excerpt:

He skated toward me, and I paused, blown away with everything that was Josh. His hair was sweaty, water dripping down his flushed cheeks from dumping his bottle over his head. It was high school and college all jumbled together to make this magnificent man in front of me. I’d never loved him more. 
“I’ve gotten a little better since that first date, huh?” I asked with a flirtatious smile, skating backward just because I could.

“You’ve always been perfect.” That grin was enough to melt me despite the temperature of the ice.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes. I can’t believe you did that for me.” His eyes were warm, letting his love for me shine.

“It’s your dream.”

He shook his head and took my hands in his much warmer ones. “No. It used to be my dream. And as hard as I worked for it, and as difficult as it was to let go, I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. This”—he glanced at the empty seats and bright lights— “has been more than I could have ever imagined.”

“I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“The jersey, the game, hearing my name, it was amazing. But what made it perfect was seeing you against the glass like we were in high school again. Remembering every time I told myself not to get close to someone as good as you are. Thinking back to that day in college when I told you I was going to chase you. Feeling the warmth of your hand over mine seeping through the glass during the championship. Recalling every time I wanted to kiss you, hold you, tell you how much I love you. I have that now, and you, December, are what made this perfect, because you are all that matters to me now.”

**VIEW THE Hallowed Ground TRAILER HERE: https://vimeo.com/148520997 **

About the Author

Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and lover of all things chocolate, coffee, and Paleo. In addition to being a mom, military wife, and blogger, she can never choose between Young Adult and New Adult fiction, so she writes both. She’s a graduate of Troy University, where she studied European history and English, but still holds out hope for an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Her blog, The Only Girl Among Boys, has been voted the Top Military Mom Blog the last two years, and celebrates the complex issues surrounding the military life she adores.

When she’s not writing, she’s tying on hockey skates for her kids, or sneaking in some guitar time. She is madly in love with her army-aviator husband of eleven years. They finally can call Colorado home along with their gaggle of rambunctious kiddos and snoring English Bulldog.

Stalk Rebecca here:

Website: http://www.rebeccaelizabethyarros.com/

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Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Yarros/e/B00HYKBU1W/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1449029619&sr=8-2-ent

We are thrilled to bring you this hot & sexy exclusive excerpt for Three Dirty Secrets by Nikki Sloane

Coming soon on January 26, 2016!

Pre-Order NOW

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ADD TO GOODREADS

Blurb:

No man can own me. I negotiate sex for money at an illicit blindfold club, but my body is not for sale. I don’t submit and I don’t surrender.

Until I meet him. This beautiful artist’s tattoo now covers the scar of the worst mistake of my life.

Being with him could expose everything I’ve been hiding, and although there’s so much at stake, I can’t stop myself. The battle for control between us is too hot, too powerful to resist.

With all my dirty secrets, what’s going to happen when he forces me to come clean?

NOTE: This book is a standalone with no cliffhanger ending, but does include scenes of MFF. Mature readers only.

Exclusive Excerpt:

Silas stalked forward and I had to fight the instinct to flee at his rapid approach. His shadow fell on me until he blocked all of the light, and his hands seized my face, drawing me into his brutal kiss.

His aggressive mouth moved against mine, demanding and serious. I didn’t think I had room for any more desire, but his kiss was another dose that rapidly flooded my senses. We stumbled together, lips locked, until my back was against a wall. My head thumped against it, but neither of us let up.

His hard body pressed into me, flattening me with his heat, and I hiked a leg, wrapping it behind his thigh so our bodies were tight together. The kiss deepened. It flared and burned hotter as one of his hands was on my ass, fingers digging in. The other was on my waist, pinning me in place.

He swallowed my moan when he bent his knees and thrust against me. This teasing with clothes on bullshit had to go. I both loved and hated it. He must have had the same thought. Silas put one palm flat on the wall by my head, and the other slid down the front of my jeans.

“Fuck, yes,” I whispered. I planted both feet back on the ground. My fingers were clumsy as I tore my snap open and unzipped, pushing the fly of my pants open wide so he could get in there.

“Shit, your mouth is hot as hell.”

“When it’s being direct?” I gazed up at him while his fingers burrowed deeper inside my panties. “Or when it’s sucking your cock?”

His hand shifted and the fingers stirred, touching me right on my clit. “Both.”

I clutched at his chest, digging into his solid form, and curled my hands into fists so I could yank him back to me using his t-shirt. I did it so hard, I heard threads ripping. Shit.

“Hope this shirt wasn’t one of your favorites.”

“It’s rapidly becoming that,” he whispered against my mouth.

Then he kissed me so hard my eyes slammed shut, and there was nothing to do but stand there and endure it. I didn’t like to be dominated, but trapped against the wall by this enormous, sexy man . . . wasn’t quite so bad.

When his kiss let up, his fingers buried inside my pants twitched. It was the tiniest of movements, but my whole body shuddered in response. My eyes flew open and I reeled, searching and finding him. I was dizzy with need, and shifted my hips, urging him to move his hand again.

But his thick fingers just sat there, pressed against my damp, aching pussy, not moving. I needed relief. I was desperate for someone else to get me off beside myself. His eyes weren’t locked onto mine. His gaze seemed to be studying my mouth and the way I struggled for breath.

He stared at my lips like he wanted to devour them. The hunger in his expression was erotic. I swallowed dryly. The throbbing between my legs was reaching epic meltdown, and both of my hands locked on his wrist to force him to move.

“You like to be in charge?” His voice was low and seductive. “That’s too bad, Regan. So do I.”

In my frenzied state, I was slow. His hand withdrew from me, and before I could form the protest, he caught both of my wrists and shoved them up over my head, pinning them to the wall. His large, strong hands crossed my wrists, and he secured them both in the grip of one hand.

My breath caught. His silver eyes were rimmed with a darker blue at the outer edge of his irises, and it was hauntingly beautiful. He watched me as his freehand caressed over my belly, and dipped beneath the edge of my panties once more.

About the Author:

Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn’t be any happier.

Connect with Nikki

Facebook | Website | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads

(A standalone novel)

Release date 1/18/2016

A Contemporary Romance novel

New York Times & USA Today Bestseller

Vi Keeland

Excerpt from THE BALLER

“You ready?” Nick slung his bag over his shoulder and lifted his camera. The reporter in front of us wrapped up his interview and shook hands with Easton.

As I’ll ever be. “Sure.”

I stepped forward and extended my hand. “I’m Delilah Maddox with WMBC Sports News.”

A slow grin spread across Easton’s face. He surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “Pleasure to meet you.”

I wasn’t sure if he was baiting me into an argument—expecting me to lash out at him for kissing me when he’d just shaken the last male reporter’s hand—or if he was trying to use his blatant sexuality to throw me off. Either way, I wasn’t playing his game. I cleared my throat and stood straighter, even though my knees felt a little wobbly.

“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“Why else would you be in here?”

I ignored his sarcasm. He was still smiling at me. Actually, it was more like a smirk, and it made me feel like a toy he was about to play with. “You ready, Nick?” My cameraman finished setting up the lighting, then lifted the camera into position and gave me a hand signal.

“Congratulations on the win today, Brody. How is your knee feeling after your first game back?” I lifted my microphone high, knowing Nick was filming in close.  

“I feel . . . ” He nonchalantly reached to the towel wrapped around his waist and tugged at the corner. The towel fell to the ground. “Great. I feel great. And how about you? It’s your first trip into the locker room, isn’t it? Do you like what you see so far?” His lips curled up into a full-blown wicked smile.

Before I could catch myself, my eyes dropped to his naked lower half. Shit. He was dangling in the wind. I totally got distracted by just how low the thing dangled. It was probably a full minute before I responded to his question. A full minute of dead air time. Great. “Yes. Umm . . . the locker room is . . . ummm . . . nice.”

I sounded like a total ditz. On air.

The jackass continued interviewing me. “Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Ummm . . . it’s much bigger than I imagined.”

His smile grew even wider.  

Ugh.

I needed to get back on track or my first locker room interview would become a laughingstock blooper. Viewers had no idea he was naked from the waist down. “Do you think you were at one hundred percent today?”

His eyebrows jumped. “If you’re referring to today’s game, definitely. I had one hundred percent out there on the field. There’re some other areas where I have a lot of growth potential, but my knee felt one hundred percent today.”

His pale green eyes darkened, and I watched his long lashes lower. I followed his line of sight, and suddenly I was staring at his naked package. Again. Damn it. My eyes darted back up, but I felt my cheeks heating. I had to end this, or I was going to be beet red on air.

“Well, welcome back. And congratulations on today’s win.”

I waited until Nick lowered his camera and turned off the light. Then I looked right at Brody Easton’s smug face. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

His eyes sparkled. “I do.”

I heard the chuckles and high fives at my back as I stormed out of the locker room.

★★★★

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Blurb

The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men’s locker room.   

It was my first interview as a professional sportscaster.

The famed quarterback decided to bare all.   

And by all, I don’t mean he told me any of his secrets.  

No.  The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel, just as I asked the first question.  On camera.   

The Super Bowl MVP quickly adopted a new hobby—screwing with me.

When I pushed back, he shifted from wanting to screw with me, to wanting to screw me.

But I don’t date players.  

And it’s not because I’m one of the few women working in the world of professional football.   

I’d date an athlete.   

It’s the other kind of player I don’t date.   

You know the type.  Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking to get laid.

Brody Easton was the ultimate player.

Every woman wanted to be the one to change him.

But the truth was, all he needed was a girl worth changing for.

Turned out, I was that girl.

Simple right?

Let’s face it.  It never is.

There’s a story between once upon a time and happily ever after…  

And this one is ours.

About the Author:

Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!

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SEATTLE

Maverick

‘Not in a million years, kid.’

‘No.’

‘NOT INTERESTED.’

‘Get the fuck out of my face!’

Four cities in two days, and more doors slammed in my face than I can count. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and scratch another name from my list.

Hopping on to a bus and hopping off thirty minutes later, I scan the mix of both commercial and apartment numbers down the block, then knock on my last door.

“Coach Hennesy?”

He’s a tall man, his hair like pepper, clad in sweats, with a yellow timer hanging from his neck. He gives me a questioning look.

“I’m your next champion.”

He laughs, but then he must see something on my face. In my stance. Thirst, resoluteness, guts. Maybe I’m wearing my balls in my eyes. He falls sober and swings the door wide-open. “Come on in.”

He doesn’t ask for my name.

I guess with one look, he knows he’ll find my name in the dictionary, right next to “determined.”

He leads me to his garage. “Where’d you train before?” he asks.

“Self-taught. I watch videos.”

He scoffs, then shrugs. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

I eye the equipment across the room. The heavy bag hangs from the ceiling, the leather worn from other fighters before me. There’s a boxing dummy at the corner. Speed bag. Weights. A whole private gym set up here. I drop both my bags, then zip open my backpack and start to put on the gloves without bothering to remove my hoodie.

“Take that off; I need to know what you’ve got. Need to see your form,” Hennesy says.

I clench my jaw. Slowly unzip my hoodie. Take it off and glance past my shoulder, shifting to keep my back from the coach’s view. The guy is clearing the fighting area. Good. We can get down to business. He walks to me when I face him.

“Give it over.” I hand him my hoodie and he tosses it aside, then crosses his arms and looks at me. “Speedball first.”

I inhale, position myself before the speedball, and hit. Wham.

I keep on hitting, lightning fast, my fists making the bag fly.

I would have warmed up first, but I’ve been doing this for days, and I won’t stop until I’ve got myself a coach—and not even then.

I’ve got momentum now, and I pick up speed, my arms moving back and forth, working the speed bag until it’s moving so fast you can’t even see it.

I’m starting to sweat; it’s stuffy in here, but I can’t stop. I need him to take me on. I need one yes to get me in the ring. Just one yes and I’ll do the rest.

“Time.” Hennesy stops me. He signals to the boxing dummy and the heavy bag. “Let’s see you pound the bag.”

I swing out and slam my knuckles on the bag, putting everything into my fists. Thack, thump, thud.

Hennesy’s composure starts to crumble with excitement. “Holy shit, boy!”

I’m getting in to it. I’m in the zone—where it’s just me, the leather brown bag, my fists, and nothing else but slamming the spot I’m looking at.

“I’ve seen enough.” He stops the bag from swinging. His eyes glassy. “Fill this out.”

I pull off my right glove and grab a pen as he slaps a paper onto a desk at the corner. I bend down to fill out my name and contact information and realize, too late, that I exposed the tattoo on my back.

“You’re his boy.”

I freeze midsignature.

A second ticks by. Then two.

I slowly set the pen down and take one last look at the paper. I might not get to fill it out after all. I turn.

His face has paled.

I wait it out for a few beats. Maybe he’s different. Maybe he can deal with it.

He tosses my jacket at me. “Get out. Nobody wants to see you fight.”

I frown fiercely as I catch my jacket in my fist and edge forward, equally mad now. “That’s too damn bad. ’Cause I’m fighting anyway.”

I keep my eyes on him as I pull off my left glove, shove my arms into my hoodie, and zip up.

I walk out and the door slams behind me. I clench my jaw, and I shove my gloves into my bag and spot the old, black gloves inside too. I push them down into the bottom of the duffel bag and zip it up.

The season starts in a week and a half. No coach? No fight. I can’t even get into a gym.

But I won’t let anyone or anything keep me from the ring.

I pick up a penny from the ground.

And I spot a girl in workout clothes across the street, tying her shoelaces. She’s a step away from the gym door. I straighten, pull my hoodie over my head, and cross the street, following after her like I belong.

Meet Maverick “The Avenger” Cage in Legend, the newest stand alone in the REAL series releasing February 9th!

PRE-ORDER NOW

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Blurb

Maverick “the Avenger” Cage wants to rise to the top and become a legend in the ring. Though he keeps his identity well guarded, he’s known on the fighting circuit as the new kid with a chip on his shoulder and a tattoo on his back that marks him as trouble. He’s got a personal score to settle with the Underground’s one and only Remington “Riptide” Tate.

As Mav trains, he meets a young girl—the only other new person in the town–and sparks fly. When things get heated between them, he finds out she’s none other than Reese Dumas, the cousin of Remington Tate’s wife. A girl who’s supposed to root against him and a girl he’s supposed to stay away from.

But Maverick fights for the woman in his heart, and the monsters in his blood. The world’s eyes are on them and the victor will go down in history as the ultimate fighting champion; the ultimate LEGEND.

* LEGEND is the 6th and final installment of the REAL series, but it can also be read as standalone or after the three Remington and Brooke books (Real/Mine/Remy.)

About the Author:

Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!

Website: www.katyevans.net

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorkatyevans

Email: authorkatyevans@gmail.com

Synopsis:

Rylee and Colton’s ride continues…

One moment. Six years ago.

The night she made the world around me so much more than just a blur. Now it’s the catalyst that threatens to tear us apart.

Our happily was supposed to be ever after. So why do I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers?

How can one moment, when our world seemed so right, resurface and cause our perfect life to spiral out of control?

I can’t lose her.

She’s my checkered flag.

“Smoldering! Rylee and Colton’s romance continues burning up the pages in this steamy and exhilarating addition to the beloved Driven series!” – Katy Evans, Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author

Colton Donavan is back in ACED, January 11, 2016!

Now available for Pre-order!

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Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1OVtIjs

Excerpt:

“Just wanted to check and make sure you and Rylee were okay.” Thank fuck he finally speaks, pulling me from the temptation to drown my problems away. I swivel so my back faces the kitchen—and the bottle—while I wait for him to say more, ask the questions I know are on his tongue. Yet I’m met with silence. Rolling my shoulders, I blow out a breath as I try to let in the one person who matters most when all I want to do is shut people out right now.

“I’m worried about her,” I confess as I look out the window. She’s still curled up on the chaise lounge where she’s been since Haddie left. The food next to her untouched. It’s fucking killing me to not go out there and talk to her, but I’m the reason she’s hurting.

I’m not going to let her pull away. Don’t think she will. But she asked for space, and I’m giving it to her. For now.

“It takes a lot to catch me off guard, Dad,” I say finally as my mind runs faster than I can say the thoughts, “and this . . . fuck . . . this just blindsided us.”

“I don’t want an explanation, son. I’ve lived this life too long to know how people twist and manipulate things to hurt others. I’m just calling to let you know we’re behind you. I’m here if you need to talk and to make sure you take care of her.”

“She told me she trusted me to handle this, and now? Now, I don’t even know what the fuck to say to her.”

“How about you start by using her name.”

My knee-jerk reaction is to yell at him for the comment, but it dies on my lips when I click another link with the mouse and comments fill the screen.

I’m sure my dad can hear the sound of my fist hitting the desk through the connection and yet he says nothing. The drywall calls to me. It’s so much more tempting to hit—satisfying—because the destruction is there, visible, and yet helps fucking nothing.

“Her name? Easier said than done, Dad. I brought her into my public world, pushed her, and now this is what she gets for loving me?”

“I bet she gets a whole lot more than that, Colton, or she wouldn’t be with you.” His words hang on the connection as I struggle whether or not to believe him. Is the more worth enough for her to stick with me through all of this?

His words repeat in my head.

I sure as fuck hope he’s right. Everything’s been too perfect as of late. Is this the other shoe dropping to put me back in my place and remind me how cruel fate can be?

“Remember, son, marriage isn’t about how madly in love you are through the good times, but how committed you are to each other in the bad times.”

And as cheesy as my dad’s advice sounds, I hear it. Hold on to it. And hope to fucking God it’s the truth because the shit has most definitely hit the fan.

“She won’t even speak to me.” I chuckle in frustration and force myself to turn off the computer. If I see one more image I have a feeling the drywall will be too tempting to resist. Unclench your fists, Donavan. Shove down the urge to hit something.

“I probably wouldn’t want to speak to you right now either,” he says.

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, Aced (a new Rylee and Colton novel releasing 1/11/16), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Connect With Kristy

Facebook • Twitter • Website • Goodreads

Synopsis:

Rylee and Colton’s ride continues…

One moment. Six years ago.

The night she made the world around me so much more than just a blur. Now it’s the catalyst that threatens to tear us apart.

Our happily was supposed to be ever after. So why do I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers?

How can one moment, when our world seemed so right, resurface and cause our perfect life to spiral out of control?

I can’t lose her.

She’s my checkered flag.

“Smoldering! Rylee and Colton’s romance continues burning up the pages in this steamy and exhilarating addition to the beloved Driven series!” – Katy Evans, Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author

Colton Donavan is back in ACED, January 11, 2016!

Now available for Pre-order!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1mIdFvf

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1J7I4gi   

iBooks: http://apple.co/1hML059

B&N: http://bit.ly/1NqDlFf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1EkCboq

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1NX9mb5

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1OVtIjs

Excerpt:

Staring at the empty doorway, I’m not quite sure what to think so I lean back in the chair and blow out a slow and steady breath to calm myself. Colton’s never said anything like that to me before, and while everything he just said holds serious merit, I’m still astounded he said it. And while a small part of me warms, knowing he wants to take care of me, a larger part is irritated he’s laying down the law. The irony.

It doesn’t mean I have to abide by it though.

I look toward the ceiling and close my eyes momentarily. The many things I need to do run through my head, but I can’t do any of them because I can’t leave my house, can’t carry on my life like normal. I’m stuck here and that thought alone makes me feel claustrophobic.

I’m exposed to the world but trapped in my house.

Feeling defeated, my eyes flutter open to see the beach beyond the windows down below. And for the first time since we’ve met, I truly understand why Colton finds such refuge in his beloved beach—the crash of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath his feet, and the sense he’s this tiny blip on Mother Nature’s radar.

A soft chuckle falls from my lips as it hits me. On the beach, he feels inconsequential. How very fitting for a man who once told me I would never be that to him to have the need to feel that way at times.

My mind shifts back to that place and time. A ghost of a smile turns up my lips of the welcome memory of the Merit Rum party: dancing in the club followed by him chasing me into the hallway. Angry words. Contemptuous kisses. Hungry eyes. An elevator ride to the penthouse with a promised threat to decide. Yes. Or. No.

I find comfort in the memory. Without that night, there most likely wouldn’t be this. No Colton. No baby on the way. No chaos to want to hide from.

My eyes are drawn back to the beach. To the temptation of Colton’s place to escape. Sadly, right now, I couldn’t escape down there if I wanted to. At least he can get on his board and paddle out beyond the break to get some distance from the photographers. I’m not so lucky.

What I’d give to be inconsequential right now.

And yet deep down, no matter how hard I try, I know I will never be that to Colton. He’d never allow it. My handsome, complicated, and very stubborn husband takes too much pride in the two things he never thought he’d have—a wife and her love—to ever let me feel inconsequential again.

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, Aced (a new Rylee and Colton novel releasing 1/11/16), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Connect With Kristy

Facebook • Twitter • Website • Goodreads

Mixing business and pleasure is never a good idea.  Or is it?

Find out in Slave to Love by

Julie A Richman releases January 14th!

Add to your TBR at:  http://bit.ly/SlaveToLoveTBR

Blurb

There are risks to mixing business with pleasure…

IF A MAN HAS AN AFFAIR AT WORK, HE’S A STUD.

He was a royal prick.

The night we met, he ignored me.

Then Mr. Big Shot CEO grabbed my ass in a business meeting.

My boss just loaned me out to this guy.

Now, we’re working on a major project together.

And our chemistry is dangerous.

Combustible.

If I allow it to ignite, I’ll risk losing that promotion.

Worse, what if I lose myself in him?

IF A WOMAN HAS AN AFFAIR AT WORK, SHE’S A SLUT.

From the moment I saw her I knew she was trouble.

It was the combination of her fresh face, smart mouth and nipples that seemed to know my name.

This woman could satisfy my needs both in the boardroom and the bedroom.

But there was more to it than that.

I wanted her.

Really wanted her.

And I was in the position to change the course of her life.

But I’ve got secrets, secrets that could destroy her.

And either make her mine or drive her away forever.

Excerpt

Slave to Love

© 2015 Julie A. Richman

Parking the Lotus, I quickly head to her side to help her out. She gives me a look and I laugh, “I’m only trying to be a gentleman.” I feign innocence.

“Mmm-hmm.” Even her mmm-hmm is dripping sarcasm.

Not commando. White lace. Oh God, she’s destroying me. I want to rip them off and lower her onto my lap. Impale her and discover what kissing does to her with my cock inside her.

Damn it. Will I be able to keep the promises I want to make?

Our waiter comes by and I order two Manhattans, smiling at Sierra.

“Craving cherries?” Her eyebrows are raised.

Oh man, she really is going to kill me tonight.

“Only if they are yours.”

“You want mine?” she asks and I can see she feels it. She feels our energy.

“More than you can imagine.”

“I would hate to deny you.”

“Good girl. Then don’t.”

The waiter places the Martini glasses in front of us and I lift mine, “Good to see you again.” And I hope she can see how sincere I am.

“Good to see you.” She takes a sip and her nose scrunches up. “This tastes different.”

“They make theirs with rye whiskey instead of bourbon.”

Another two sips and the cherry is no longer submerged. Sierra reaches into the glass and plucks it out. About ready to pop it into her mouth, she catches my eye and smiles. She’s just messing with me. Reaching out, I grasp her slender wrist and slowly pull it to me. Taking the tips of her thumb and forefinger into my mouth, I suck the cherry out from between her fingers and show it to her on my tongue before slowly chewing it, a smile firmly planted on my face.

I’m still holding her wrist and with my free hand, I signal to the waiter for two more.

“We need to talk, Hale.”

I can see she is struggling. We are in such dangerous territory and we escalate there quickly and too easily. She is clearly unnerved and I’m not sure if it’s by her own behavior, mine or what happens when we’re together. Her eyes search mine as if she is hoping to find some truth. I loosen my hold on her wrist and pick up my drink.

“Let me start by first saying something I have yet to say to you. I’m sorry, Sierra. I’m sorry I disrespected you.”

About the Author:

USA Today Bestseller Julie A. Richman is the author of the highly acclaimed NEEDING MOORE SERIES trilogy (SEARCHING FOR MOORE, MOORE TO LOSE & MOORE THAN FOREVER), BAD SON RISING & HENRY’S END. Saddled with the affliction of serious wanderlust, Julie can often be found behind a camera lens in locales from Paris to Alaska.  

STALK HER: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

Colton Donavan is back in ACED
January 11, 2016!

Synopsis:

Rylee and Colton’s ride continues…

One moment. Six years ago.

The night she made the world around me so much more than just a blur. Now it’s the catalyst that threatens to tear us apart.

Our happily was supposed to be ever after. So why do I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers?

How can one moment, when our world seemed so right, resurface and cause our perfect life to spiral out of control?

I can’t lose her.

She’s my checkered flag.

Now available for Pre-order!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1mIdFvf

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1J7I4gi   

iBooks: http://apple.co/1hML059

B&N: http://bit.ly/1NqDlFf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1EkCboq

Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1NX9mb5

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1OVtIjs

Excerpt:

“I talked to my parents. To Tanner. To Shane.” My voice fades off as the disbelief I have to take stock and let him know the damage control I’ve done takes hold. Unsure how to respond to me when he’s always so sure, he just nods his head as our eyes hold steadfast. “I just don’t know…” My voice is so soft, it sounds so very different than the storm of anger that rages inside me, and yet I can’t find it within me to show my emotions. I can feel his fingers tense from my comment, see his Adam’s apple bob from the forced swallow, and notice the tick of muscle as he clenches his jaw.

“We’ll get through this.”

The condescending chuckle falls from my lips, the first break in my fraudulent façade because it’s so damn easy for him to say. “I know.” Voice back, emotion nonexistent, tone unsure.

Colton stares, willing me to say more but I don’t. I just match him stare for hollow stare as images of myself from Google flickering through my mind. Finally he breaks out connection and reaches his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose before blowing out a sigh.

“Scream at me, Ry. Yell. Rage. Take it out on me. Do anything but be silent because I can’t handle when you’re silent with me,” he pleads. All I can do is shake my head, dig down within myself to will the emotion to come. When I can’t find the words or the feeling behind them, it unnerves him, worries him. “I’m sorry, baby. Were we stupid? Maybe. Do I regret it?” He shakes his head. “I regret all of this, yes, but that in general? No. So many damn things happened that put you and me where we are now. So for that? I’m not sorry. You pushed me that night, made me question if I could give someone more of myself.” He reaches his free hand up to brush a thumb over the line of my jaw. His touch reassuring, his words helping soothe the sting of our situation.

“It’s not your fault,” I say, trying to ease the concern in his eyes.

“Maybe not directly . . . but I made you color outside of your perfectly constructed lines . . . do something against your nature, and look what happened. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make this right,” he says, dropping his head as he shakes his head in defeat. “All I can try to do is mitigate the damage. That’s it.” He throws his hands up. “It’s killing me because I can’t fix this.” The break in his voice and the tension in his body would have told me everything I needed to know even if he hadn’t uttered a sound.

I look at my achingly handsome husband, so distraught, so desperate to make wrongs right that aren’t his to be held responsible for. And seeing him as upset as I am makes me feel a little better and allows me to dig into the deep well of emotion. I finally find the words I need and want to tell him. The decisions I came to last night when I sat on the deck and considered the life-altering situation we were in.

“Stop. Please quit beating yourself up over this. I don’t blame you.” I pause, my teeth worrying my bottom lip as I put words to my thoughts and wait for him to hear that last sentence.

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, Aced (a new Rylee and Colton novel releasing 1/11/16), and a short story titled UnRaveled. She is currently working on new projects and a few surprises for her readers.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Connect With Kristy

Facebook • Twitter • Website • Goodreads