King and Pup are back in this Limited Edition Box Set
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MAskkt
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1MPoVfJ
Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1R4LZMw
Paperback Amazon: http://amzn.to/1YsctJZ
King: Homeless. Hungry. Desperate. Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from. A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, sex or a combination of all three. King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go. Tyrant: I. Remember. Everything. But the relief I thought I would feel never comes, and I’m more afraid now than I was the morning I woke up handcuffed in King’s bed. Because with the truth comes dark secrets I was never meant to know. I will put the lives of those I love most at risk if I let on that my memory has returned, or if I seek help from the heavily tattooed felon who owns me body and soul. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist the magnetic pull toward King that grows stronger every day. He’s already saved me in more ways than one. Now it’s my turn to do whatever it takes to save him. Even if that means marrying someone else…
Tattooing Doe was the single most erotic moment of my life. Marking her perfect, pale skin with a tattoo I’d designed for her made me so fucking hard I had to adjust myself every thirty seconds in order to concentrate on my work.
When I was done, I handed her the hand mirror, and she walked over to the full-sized mirror that hung on the back of the door, like she’d seen dozens of my other clients do before. When she held up the hand mirror, she gasped.
“What?” I asked in a panic, hoping she didn’t already see what I’d hidden in the tattoo. I was an asshole for putting it there. I was an asshole for tattooing her in the first place.
I was just an asshole.
But I couldn’t help myself. My name needed to be on her. It wasn’t enough just to call her mine. I needed to mark her as well. So hidden in the vine work under the quote I found that I thought was perfect for her, was my name.
KING was woven into the design. In order to see it you had to tilt your head or otherwise you wouldn’t notice it. But it was there.
I would tell her eventually of course, but I wanted it to be my secret for a while. She’d stopped being my possession a while ago, a lot longer before I cared to admit, but I still felt the need to mark her as mine.
I still liked the idea of owning her.
Only now, she owned me, too.
She didn’t notice the name. Tears filled her eyes. She stood there staring at the hand mirror in just her panties. Little cheeky ones where her ass hung out of the bottoms. Her tits were only inches from my face. Her tears of happiness made my dick twitch. Although her sad tears evoked the same response.
My dick wasn’t partial to which kind of tears he liked.
I took the mirror from her hand and lifted her up onto the counter. “You like it?” I asked, pushing her panties down her legs.
“I love it,” she panted, wrapping her legs around me, drawing me close. Her wetness soaking my boxers. I pushed them down with one hand. I’d been hard for three hours, the entire time I’d been working on her, and couldn’t wait any longer. I pushed inside her tight, wet heat.
We both moaned at the contact.
“You love it?” I asked, needing to hear her say it again.
“Yes, I love it!” she said as I thrust up into her, hard. “I love it. So much. I love you.”
I froze when I heard the words, and when I did, her eyes flung open.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Oh my god, I have that word vomit thing. I’m sorry. Shit, I just meant that—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I demanded, thrusting hard to get her attention. She closed her eyes, and her head fell back. “That’s fucking better. Now, keep that pretty mouth of yours shut while I fuck you.”
“Okay,” she whispered, breathless.
“Shut up,” I said again, and she closed her mouth. “Shut up so I can fuck you…and show you how much I love you.”
She nodded and although her eyes stayed shut, a tear rolled down her cheek. I sucked it off her chin before it could fall to the floor.
Then, I fucked her.
I showed her how much I loved her until I couldn’t tell where I started and she began. Until all that was in that room was me and her and the thing between us that kept pulling us together like magnets. Until we were lost in sensations and orgasms.
And in each other.
I fucked her until we were one person, and in a way we were, because I’d lost myself along the way and I found myself again in the most unlikely place.
I’d found myself again in the haunted eyes of a girl who was just as lost as I was.
Or maybe, we didn’t find each other at all.
Maybe, we just decided to be lost together.
He cupped my ass and lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. “There was one point I’d made the decision to tell you the truth. I owed you that much. But then all the shit went down with Isaac and Preppy, so when I made the deal with your father for Max, I thought I was doing you a favor by giving you your life back and getting you out of all the shit that came with being in mine.”
I squeezed my thighs around his waist, rubbing myself against his hardness. I moaned. “But you weren’t giving me my life back.” I corrected. I placed my palms on his cheeks and held his face in my hands, searching for any sign in his eyes that what I felt for him might have been wrong, but instead what I found was a resounding need to fix what was broken between us. Tears formed in my eyes. “You were taking it away.” King’s lips parted. He ran his thumb across my lower lip, turning his head he kissed his way up my arm.
“Goosebumps,” King observed, running his fingertips across my already stimulated skin. I bit my lip and stifled a moan.
“It’s just the heat,” I lied.
“You’ve got that fucking right,” King growled, bending my wrist behind my back, his lips came crashing down over mine. We were a tangling of lips, clanking of teeth, sloshing through the water to better line ourselves up with each other. It wasn’t pretty.
It was need.
“I’m still fucking mad at you for letting me go,” I said into his mouth, while our tongues did things other parts of me throbbed to do.
King stilled and held my face away from his, our chests heaving in unison, my erect nipples rubbing against his hot hard skin as we panted together. Our breaths mingled in the air. He ran his hand down the side of my face and cupped my cheek in his palm. “I didn’t give you away, Pup. I released you.”
I stilled. “You released me?” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice. For some reason, releasing me sounded worse than letting me go.
King ran his tongue across the tip of my earlobe, holding me tightly against his warmth. Chills ran down my spine and into my very core and they had nothing to do with the temperature of the rain.
“I tried to release you, Pup. For Max. But there was a major problem with that plan, and no matter what happened, it would never have worked,” King confessed.
“Why is that?” I asked, needing to know, but at the same time acutely aware of the pulsing between my legs. Relief and release was only a scrap or two of fabric away. Throbbing for me.
“The problem was…you never released me,” King growled, crashing his lips to mine. He moaned into my mouth when I rubbed myself up against his straining erection. He pushed the fabric of my shorts aside and the second he parted my folds with his index finger, I shuddered. He plunged a long index finger inside of me, and for a second my eyes rolled back in my head until he withdrew it. I cried out in frustration, wiggling myself against him, needing him to make me feel anything other than empty.
About the Author
T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.
She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.
In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.
It only took her twenty years to start the next one.
It will not be about hamsters.
I am the good girl, the one who does no wrong.Daughter to a ferocious and strong MC President, I know what protection feels like.
Until one night changes everything – and not a single person in the world can protect me from it, not even my dad.
Suffocating. Alone. Desperate.
I let my problems live deep inside until there is no longer anywhere to run.
I need an escape. Anything to make the pain go away.
Trouble comes for me, and I don’t fight it.
I tried so hard to believe in what I was,
But nobody understood.
Not until him. Not until Lucas.
He sees me. He believes in me.
He refuses to let me drown.
He’s my way out. My escape.
But Lucas is forbidden. He’s a cop. I’m in danger. And my father is trying to protect what can’t be protected.
There can only be one outcome.
Bella Jewel is a self published, USA Today bestselling author. She’s been publishing since 2013. Her first release was a contemporary romance, Hell’s Knights which topped the charts upon release. Since that time, she has published over five novels, gaining a bestseller status on numerous platforms. She lives in North Queensland and is
currently studying editing and proofreading to further expand her career. Bella has been writing since she was just shy of fifteen years old. In Summer 2013 she was offered an ebook deal through Montlake Romance for her bestselling modern day pirate series, Enslaved By The Ocean. She plans to expand her writing career, planning many new releases for the future.
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 24, 2015
Welcome to Thistle Bend! Perfect for fans of Susan Mallery, this charming series debut introduces a small town where old secrets are revealed—and wounded hearts are opened to new love.A year after being laid off from the Smithsonian, Lindsey Simms says yes to a job offer as curator of a heritage museum in Thistle Bend, Colorado (population 1,519). It could be worse—and it is. Because the new museum has escalated a dispute between the Karlssons, Lindsey’s relatives, and the Crenshaws, a blood feud which goes way back to a land deal that changed the fortunes of both families. Trying to stay objective, Lindsey can’t tell anyone about her conflict of interest—especially not the ruggedly handsome handyman fixing up her cabin, who seems to be keeping secrets of his own.
Although he’s the executive director of the family trust and one of Colorado’s most eligible bachelors, Carden Crenshaw prefers getting his hands dirty in town and on his sprawling ranch. Staying busy has given him an excuse not to risk heartbreak, but getting to know the beautiful “museum lady” makes him reconsider. Little does he know, the heat between them will only add fuel to the fire—unless this unlikely couple can prove they’re lovers, not fighters.
Award-winning author Tracy March writes contemporary romances inspired by her real-life happily ever after. Always up for travel and adventure, she has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, ziplined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without craving pizza. Tracy lives in Yorktown, Virginia, with her superhero husband who works for NASA.
This novella started out with a fantastic fuck. The heat that I was expecting was fully present and it enveloped me back into the world of Damien and Nikki immediately. I adore their relationship, love and devotion to one another – how they just seem to feel and know the other so completely. It’s just plain perfect.
So when this book took a turn in an ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ fashion it sort of bummed me out. The dream sequence just didn’t do it for me and I found myself reading through it so I could get the fuck back to the present with two of my favorite characters of all time.
Of course Kenner’s writing is well thought out and beautifully done, but the actual story didn’t capture me as I had hoped. I will, of course, always read about these two. Overall, this was a sweet and spicy Christmas Story that you’ll want to stuff in your stocking, especially if you’re jonesing for more of the Starks.
…I’d like Damien to stuff my stocking…
[I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review]
JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swopn for him.” A four time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy).
Series: Hotwired #1
Author: Tracy Wolff
Genre: Contemporary Romance/New Adult
Release Date: November 24, 2015
A sexy carjacker takes a would-be starlet for the ride of her life as a pulse-pounding new series from New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff begins.
Once the brains behind a car-boosting ring, Nic Medina has spent the last three years playing it straight. Now drag racers flock to his L.A. auto shop, Hotwired, for a shot at going head-to-head with the man himself. But when a crooked cop gives Nic a treacherous ultimatum—steal ten high-end cars or watch his nephew disappear into the system—he makes the only choice he can, one that puts the life he’s worked so hard for at risk. No sooner does Nic agree than he spots some nasty competition—and a gorgeous bystander in harm’s way.A small-town girl with Hollywood dreams, Jordan Bass never expected to be swept up in a real-life drama. But that’s exactly what happens when she witnesses a violent crime. And when a smoldering stranger takes the wheel and practically kidnaps her in a desperate bid to keep her safe, she’s not sure whether to scream . . . or kiss him. Nic’s bad news—but the real bad guys aren’t above silencing a witness. On a collision course with danger, Jordan finds herself falling for the man whose street smarts are keeping her alive . . . and whose touch puts her in high gear.
In a powerful romance hailed as “heartbreaking, real, and breathtakingly beautiful” by Stacey Lynn, New York Times bestselling author A. Meredith Walters tells the story of a troubled young woman and the unforgettable guy who teaches her to live—and love—to the fullest.
She’s waiting to die. . . . Corin Thompson is paralyzed by her obsession with mortality. Having lost both of her parents, she is terrified by the idea that she too will die young, and she loses control at any sign of illness. But when Corin connects with someone who has survived a very real brush with death, she begins to see the world in a whole new way.
He’s learning to live. . . . As Corin struggles under the weight of her neuroses, Beckett Kingsley is attempting to rebuild a life that feels all too temporary. With the ever-present threat of heart failure never far from his mind, he just wants to make the most of whatever time he has left. And that means pursuing the girl he never expected to find.
Together, Corin and Beckett finally learn to let go of their fears and take solace in everyday pleasures. Who knows what the future holds? After all, nothing lasts forever—the only promise they have is right now.
Advance praise for Butterfly Dreams
“All the feels: poignant, funny, sad, beautiful, and inspiring! Your own belly butterflies will take flight.”—New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans
“A. Meredith Walters is the author I turn to when I want to get sucked into a beautiful story that packs an emotional punch.”—New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett
“Butterfly Dreams is one of the most poignant books I’ve read all year. It’s heartbreaking, real, and breathtakingly beautiful. A. Meredith Walters weaves a story that draws you in from the very first page and refuses to let you go even once it’s finished.”—Stacey Lynn, author of the Nordic Lords series
“The ending nearly killed me, but I survived. I read this book in one sitting, and what a roller coaster of a story. The author did an amazing job. . . . I found myself unable to put the book down.”—The Book Hookup
My doorbell rang.
I looked at the clock and realized it was already 7:30.
So that meant it was Beckett on the other side of the door.
I looked down at my half-naked body.
And then I started freaking out.
“I’ll be right there!” I yelled.
Should I let him in?
But I was practically naked!
I couldn’t let him see me like this!
Maybe I should own it. Shake my hips and let him get a look at the goods.
Like that would ever happen.
Crap, what was I going to wear?
I grabbed a pair of jeans from my floor and wiggled them on, not really paying attention to which ones they were.
I reached into my closet and pulled the closest shirt off the rack. I tied my hair into a ponytail and slipped on a comfortable pair of ballet flats.
I hoped Beckett hadn’t planned on five-star dining because I was dressed more for a McDonalds milkshake before hanging with the bowling league.
“Sorry,” I said, out of breath, opening the door and letting Beckett inside.
“I was starting to think I needed to break in and make sure you hadn’t gotten stuck in the toilet or something.” Beckett looked damn near perfect in a dark pair of jeans and button-up blue shirt the same color as his eyes.
He had even gotten a haircut. Way to make me feel like a total underachiever in the getting ready department, buddy.
“Looks like you cut yourself,” I said, indicating the piece of toilet paper stuck to his chin.
“Fuck. I forgot about that,” he muttered, pulling it off, looking embarrassed.
“You should have left it there. It’s cute,” I teased, putting on my black wool coat.
“You ready?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” I gave him a wide smile and he laughed.
“I’m not taking you to your death by firing squad. You could act a bit more excited.”
I jumped up and down, clapping my hands together. “OMG, Beck! I can’t wait!” I gasped.
“Is that better?” I asked, closing my apartment door behind me and locking it.
“Much.” Beckett leaned down and I swear he was checking out my ass.
“Excuse me, but what in the hell are you doing?” I demanded.
“Are you aware that the Cheshire cat is on your right butt cheek?”
I craned my body to get a look at what he was talking about. And sure enough, there was a bright purple patch with the damn Cheshire cat on my derriere.
“I must have picked up the wrong jeans,” I groaned. These were my hanging-out-doing-laundry jeans. Not meant to be seen by anyone but myself and the cat.
“I was in a rush. I couldn’t figure out what to wear. It was stressful,” I tried to explain, pulling my coat down over my feline-covered bum.
“The last thing I want is to stress you out, Cor-Cor.”
I smacked his arm. “I thought I warned you about using that damn nickname,” I threatened.
“I show up with toilet paper stuck to my face and you have a cat on your butt. I think we make a pretty awesome pair,” Beckett snickered, unlocking his car.
About the Author:
Jessie Kay smiled, but the amusement didn’t last long. “You must hate that I’ve been with them.”
“I hate the thought of you with anyone else and for a while, I thought I’d grow to resent the two for putting their hands on my woman. But now I realize it simply doesn’t matter. They are the past, and I am the present.”
“Your woman,” she whispered, as if she couldn’t believe he’d said the words. “The future.” Gulping, she turned in her seat to fully face him. “How did Monica know you want to pretend I’m a human buffet?”
West gripped the steering wheel more tightly. “I told her.”
A moment passed in silence. A moment he lacked any kind of heartbeat, the stupid organ waiting for a reason to beat.
“I want you, too,” she admitted. “You know I do. But I won’t do anything about it because I expect long-term and you insist on two months.” A heavy pause. “Right?”
His body reacted to her words—I want you, too—growing hot and hungry, his heart now racing as an insatiable need for relief plagued him. “Right.” He couldn’t over look his reasons for keeping this particular schedule. Not even for Jessie Kay. It would be an insult to Jase and Tessa, even Beck. It would be an insult to the pain they’d suffered on his behalf.
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you insist on two months? Tell me. Please.”
“Not yet.” He’d have to tell her sooner or later, he saw that now, but as for tonight, there’d been enough turmoil. “If we can’t be together, you have to help me resist you. Tell me all the horrible things you’d do if we were involved. Cling? Demand to know every detail about my rotten childhood?”
For a long, silent moment, she peered at him with yearning and hope, and it tore him up inside. He didn’t think there could be anything worse—until both emotions were eclipsed by resolve.
“I would cling so hard,” she finally said. “I would ask a million questions about not just your childhood but your day, everyday, and if I thought, even for a second, you’d looked at another woman, I would punish you by refusing to sleep with you. For a week!”
“You mean you would punish yourself. But keep going. This is helping.” Was it though? He wasn’t disturbed by the thought of her questions and her punishment. He was intrigued.
“I would take horrible advantage of you,” she said.
Again, he was intrigued. “Give me an example.”
“Well, for starters, I would expect you to trade cars with me.”
“Because any boyfriend of mine would insist I drive the safer vehicle.”
Guess who would soon be getting a new—safer—car all her own?
But she wasn’t done. “And I hope you like your girlfriends in baggy shirts and sweatpants. The moment I have you nailed down,I’ll stop putting any effort in to my appearance.”
He gave a mock shudder.
“And despite your obvious aversion to gift-giving, I will expect a present for every anniversary. And,West? I believe every week together is a new anniversary.”
The thought utterly terrified him.
The one gift he’d given his mother, she’d pawned. The first gift he’d given to a foster mother hadn’t compared to the gifts she’d received from her own children. She’d proudly displayed theirs, and his—a drawing he’d slaved over—had ended up in the trash with the wrapping paper.
“Your turn to help me.” Jessie Kay waved her hand at him. “Tell me the horrible things you’d do to me.”
He brought her hand to his mouth, and licked between her knuckles. One taste. Just one…“I’d have a schedule drilled into your head by the end of the first day.”
“Nothing new there.”
“If you were a minute late to anything, I would pencil in a lecture and a spanking.”
Her exaggerated gasp caused his lips to twitch at the corners. She placed her free hand over her throat, saying, “You’re such a beast! Yes, I would deserve and welcome the spanking. But the lecture? Cruel and unusual. How long would it last?”
She tsk-tsked. “I hate to break it to you, sugar bear, but I wouldn’t hear a word. I’d be too busy day dreaming about the joys of single life.”
“Don’t kid yourself, kitten. I’d deliver the lecture naked. You’d only want more of me, not less.”
Goosebumps broke out over her skin. “What else?”
“I would demand to be the center of your world.” He never had before, but with her, he was certain he’d make an exception. “Every minute of every day would be long to me. I would expect you in my bed every night and in my arms every morning. I would have you so often and so hard you wouldn’t be able to breathe without thinking of me.”
Another moment passed in silence. Another moment without a heartbeat.
He reached the house, parked in the driveway.
“Horrible,” she finally said, her voice little more than smoke—smoke that drugged him…lured him deeper into her spell.
He shook as he got out of the car, walked around and opened her door. “I need another reason. Now.”
She stood before him, looking up at him with luminous eyes. “I would demand a hug at least ten times a day.”
He didn’t have to fake a shudder this time. “I hate hugs. I never know how long or tight to hold on.”
“Well, I can fix that in a jiff.” She stepped closer to him, stepped into him, winding her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his chest, where his heart drummed a thousand beats a minute. “Hold on until I say stop.”
He obeyed without thought, wrapping his arms around her and clinging.
“Tighter,” she said. “Good. That’s good.” A tension-laden pause. “Miserable yet?”
“Beyond,” he whispered.
“Good. Now run your fingers through my hair.”
It was a dangerous game, the most dangerous one they’d ever played, and it utterly defeated the purpose of what they were trying to do. Still he ran his fingers through the silken strands of her hair, and she sighed with contentment.
“Jessie Kay.” A heated rasp.
She looked up, pressed a gentle kiss into his lips.
The contact, even as brief as it was, obliterated whatever armor he’d had around his mind…his heart? His every hidden desire was suddenly on display, like exposed nerve endings, raw and sensitive.
Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, stealing her breath when she opened for him.
Their tongues rolled together, soft and slow, and the incredible taste of her nearly unmanned him: the sugar that was a steady part of her diet laced with a hint of cinnamon. Two flavors he would forever associate with home…home…for the first time in his life, he felt as if he was home.
“Jessie Kay.” As good as the kiss was, it had nothing to do with passion. Not in this stolen moment. Every stroke and thrust somehow deepened the emotion between them. She branded him. She took him to a place where the past no longer existed. There was only here and now, and they were the only two people alive.
“West,” she gasped—then she pushed him away.
They stood at arm’s length, both of them panting.
Goal: Get her back in his arms. Without her, he had no anchor. He was set adrift, the past threatening to intrude.
He reached for her, but she sidestepped him. Can’t let her get away.
He caged her against the car to prevent an escape, and as she trembled, he cursed. He wasn’t this man. Needy and clingy—desperate.
“N-now that we got that out of our systems,” she said, unable to look him in the eye, “the wanting should end.”
“Yes,” he croaked. “The wanting should end.”
Please. Let it end.
THE HARDER YOU FALL Synopsis:
From New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter comes another scorching Original Heartbreakers tale featuring an aloof bad boy andthe rowdy Southern belle who rocks his world…
Millionaire video-game creator Lincoln West has a dark and tragic past. The sought-after bachelor lives by a rigid schedule and a single rule—one relationship per year, lasting no more than two months. No exceptions. When he gave up the big city for a small town, he hoped to escapethe worst of his memories—until a brash beauty dredges up long-buried emotions.
A reformed party girl, Jessie Kay Dillon is determined to walk the straight and narrow. But her love-hate sizzle with West is just too irresistible. They can’t be near each other without tearing off their clothes, but the last thing she needs is to be his next two-month dump. Will she becomethe one exception? Because as any former girl-gone-wild knows: rules are made to be broken.
“Emotional, heart-tugging, kept me turning the pages!” —Carly Phillips, New York Times Bestselling Author
Gena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of the spellbinding Lords of the Underworld and Angels of the Dark series, two young adult series–Everlife and the White Rabbit Chronicles–and the highly addictive Original Heartbreakers series. In addition to being a National Reader’s Choice and two time RITA nominee, her romance novels have appeared in Cosmopolitan (Red Hot Read) and Seventeen magazine, she’s appeared onNightline and been mentioned in Orange is the New Black–if you ask her about it, she’ll talk for hours…hours! Her books have been translated in multiple languages.
She’s hard at work on her next novel, a tale featuring an alpha male with a dark side and the strong woman who brings him to his knees. You can learn more about Gena, her menagerie of rescue dogs, and all her upcoming books at genashowalter.com or Facebook.com/genashowalterfan
What I remember the most about that day was that it was completely ordinary. Then with one stupid decision everything fell apart and nothing was ever the same.
Rae Wilder wants nothing but a do over—but life doesn’t work that way. She’s stuck living out the consequences of her actions. At times the burden feels unbearable.
College is supposed to be her second chance.
No one to know what she did.
Despite that, she has still vowed to avoid everyone and everything at all costs.
Unfortunately for her, an accidental run-in with the campus heartthrob, Cade Montgomery, derails that plan.
He’s determined to thaw the ice around her heart and expose the girl she used to be. He wants to show her that life is worth living for and that she really is a Rae of Sunshine.
You can change your hair.
Even your name.
But at the end of each and every day you’re still the same person you were yesterday, and the day before that.
I’d spent the last year trying, and failing, to become a different person. The shitty events of my life had certainly changed me and I wasn’t the same carefree girl I used to be, but I was still Rachael—or Rae as I preferred to be called now—because no matter how far we run we can never escape ourselves.
Micalea Smeltzer is a bestselling Young and New Adult author from Winchester, Virginia.
She’s always working on her next book, and when she has spare time she loves to read and spend time with her family.
Working at a law firm comes with its own set of rules, and Blaire has broken rule number one. Consorting with the opposition could get her fired. In the blink of an eye, all of her hopes, dreams, goals, and aspirations could be dismissed.
She knows this.
Joel, EJ—whoever he is—is the enemy. Persona non grata. Her mind is aware of his standing. But her body? Not so much. It remembers every moment shared. Every flirty smile and witty comeback. Every whispered word with carefully placed hands.
Falling into bed with him was easy. Getting him to stay away will be the hardest thing she’s ever faced.
**Book 2 in the Just This Once Series**
Shut In: 11/9
Shut Out: 11/23
Shut Off: 12/7
Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon CA
Shut In (Book 1)
Blaire didn’t know much about one-night stands, but she knew how they’re supposed to go. A night where inhibitions are thrown out, no names, no attachments, and in the morning you both go your separate ways, never to speak again. At least that’s what was supposed to happen.
Mother nature had other plans.
She established boundaries: No details, no more sex. But Joel was never much for following the rules. With a body built for sex and an appetite to match, one night with him would never be enough. Torn between the case that could make her legal career and a man who thinks of clothes as optional, how long could she stick to the rules?
Twenty minutes later, I was just settling into a groove of fact-checking when my desk phone rang.
“Don’t hang up.”
It was the voice I’d been missing for days, and the one I least expected to hear on the other end of my work phone.
“Are you crazy? Are you trying to get me fired?” My eyes swung around the room as if anyone walking by would know who I was speaking to just by how panicked my voice sounded. But I have to admit, it is nice to hear from him, especially after that impersonal card he left. I banished those thoughts as Joel stammered on with words that flitted through my ears like bees whipping through a garden. I should have hung up. I shouldn’t have cared why he was calling or what he had to say. They could be tracing this call. At the time, I didn’t really know who they were, but it was enough to snap my mind into thinking straight—something that was obviously hard to do when it came to Joel. It seemed I only needed to hear his voice for my brain to check out, flipping the closed sign to alert all other thoughts that my brain would no longer be servicing them for the time being.
“I’ll call you back. Let me call you right back.” My words rushed out over his. I hung up, ignoring the frantic sound of his voice and his desperation to keep me on the phone. His words were gibberish in my tunnel vision to hang up. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was able to actually cut ties with him, and also because I hadn’t been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
I stared at the phone log on my receiver for minutes while I thought about calling him back. If I didn’t call him back, I was sure he’d just hit redial. Whatever he had to say, I was going to hear it, one way or another. So I figured I’d get it over with and call him; at least there was a fail-safe in place. If I didn’t like where the conversation was going, I could just say I had to go for some work emergency or another, and he would be none-the-wiser.
My feet danced against the marble floor beneath my chair, releasing the nervous energy like raindrops beating against metal roofs. The phone only rang once before he answered.
“What do you want, Joel?” I whispered his name before continuing at my normal level, “I thought I was pretty clear that we had nothing left to say.”
“I don’t want to get you in any trouble, but I wanted to hear your voice. You don’t miss me?” The desperate plea I’d heard only moments before had been replaced with a voice I was used to, familiar with. One that whispered words between my thighs late at night. Just thinking about that voice stirred up a different kind of desperation.
An exhausted breath left my lips, but I didn’t get a chance to respond before he was cutting me off again.
“You don’t really need to answer that. I know the truth. Did you get my flowers?”
Cee Smith is a lover of the written word. Since first learning how to string a sentence together, she’s been putting pen to paper and hasn’t looked back. Though she’s no longer obsessed with blood and gore, the dark side still calls to her, often finding refuge in her current writings. Her addiction to reading is what finally inspired her to take a chance at publishing.
A California native, currently residing in North Carolina with her husband. She loves salacious stories, true love and forbidden romances—the more angst the better. Other than reading and writing, some of her other obsessions are peanut butter (don’t get her started), Michael Fassbender, and watching tv.
She loves talking about the creative process and what books she’s reading, so feel free to shoot her a line. Or if you just want to say hi that’s fine too. She swears she’ll respond.