DIRTY LOVE Synopsis
Greer Karas has been mine since the first day I saw her.
I walked away because she deserved better than I could offer, but I always planned to come back and stake my claim when the time was right.
But true to form, Greer wasn't willing to wait. She threw down a challenge, and I’m meeting her head-on.
I’m not walking away this time because sometimes you have to fight dirty for love.
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DIRTY GIRL Synopsis
Desperately seeking rich, famous, single guy with a giant cock to make my lying, cheating, should’ve-been-born-dickless ex-boyfriend realize what he’s just lost.
Oh, and I give great head. Just sayin’.
No man in his right mind would answer that ad.
Except thousands did.
My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton’s playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.
Cue my look of shock when one of Hollywood’s hottest new bad boys, Cavanaugh Westman, comes knocking at my door and drops his pants to prove that he does indeed have a giant cock.
What he doesn’t have is an explanation for why he disappeared from my life without a word three years ago, only to show up on the big screen two years later, killing bad guys in action flicks.
And now he wants me again.
What the hell do I do now?
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Google Play: http://smarturl.it/DirtyGirlGP
Right now, I just want Cav. I might still want to kill him later, but not right this moment.
I suck his finger into my mouth, laving it with my tongue and lips and dragging lightly down it with my teeth.
As we hurtle down the runway, I make promises to him with my eyes. Take the restraints off or don’t; I’m still going to want you.
Cav reaches out with his other hand and cups my breast, covered only by the soft material of my thin T-shirt. Chill bumps prickle along my skin when his fingers close around my nipple and twist.
A moan escapes my lips, and I press into his touch. We say nothing until the captain announces that we’ve reached our cruising altitude.
Cav removes his seat belt and mine before hauling me back onto his lap.
“Jesus Christ, woman. Feel what you did to me.”
He presses his hips up and against me, and I wiggle my ass against his cock’s solid length.
“I want it.”
“Good, because I’m going to lower you onto your knees, unzip my pants, and help you take it down your throat. And then I’m going to lift you up on my lap and slide your pussy down my cock until you’re full of me.”
His dirty talk kills me every time.
“What are you waiting for?” I ask, my tone taking on a seductive depth.
“Need to taste you again first.”
His lips crush to mine, and his tongue dives inside without waiting for invitation. Cav kisses like he does everything else—throwing his whole self into it. His hand is buried in my hair, tilting my head the way he likes. I moan into his mouth, loving the urgency radiating from him.
Finally, he pulls my head back, his eyes greener than before. “On your knees, baby girl.”
I nod as he helps me to the floor, the plush carpeting cushioning my position. Cav unzips his jeans and fists his cock as he pulls it out. As I lean forward, my hair falls around my face, but with my bound hands, I’m helpless to pull it back.
Cav wraps one hand around the tangled strands and clenches it behind my head. I’m at his mercy, and yet I’ve never felt more powerful. The need in his eyes burns into me, and I want to give as much as I want to take.
ABOUT MEGHAN MARCH
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She's also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she's ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at email@example.com.
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE: http://www.amazon.com/Meghan-March/e/B00LBN0UNW/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1455662528&sr=8-2-ent
Ultimate Vengeance by Nancy Haviland Wanted Men, #4 Publication Date: May 31, 2016 Genre: Adult, Contemporary Mafia Romance, Organized Crime
Synopsis: To a young Russian girl raised to respect and fear the Bratva, gaining the attention of the impressive Sovietnik from a ruling organization was a terrifying thing. Alekzander was a dangerous temptation Sacha Urusski had no hope of resisting. Predictably, her heart was decimated and she was left bleeding…with a precious reason to go on. But when Alekzander bullies his way back into her quiet life and offers a confession that absolves him of his sins, rather than celebrate, Sacha is forced to acknowledge an alarming truth; she has now become the villain in their story. Or so she thinks. When the most damaging secret of all is revealed, her final hope dies and she’s left with no other recourse. She must run.Sixteen months ago, Alekzander Tarasov made the mistake of his life when he annihilated his relationship with his soulmate. At the time, protecting her was his only thought. Now, after attempting to live without her, his focus has changed. He wants her back where she belongs. And he’ll stop at nothing to drag his curvy angel away from her new life and so deep into his world of violence and uncertainty she’ll never find her way out again.
Through a deluge of secrets and lies, disillusionment and broken faith enters a world where loyalty and trust reign. Will Alek and Sacha’s battered love be strong enough to survive? Or will it be a sense of duty that inexorably binds them together in the end?
EXCERPT - No Place to Hide (Ultimate Vengeance)
No. She couldn’t get Alekzander into trouble with the law simply because he’d stopped loving her and had chosen to move on without telling her first. She should. She should spill every little secret she had, not that there were many. But she never would. Despite everything, he was her daughter’s father.
Then again, she thought, feeling ill, if it came down to it and she had to choose between keeping Lekzi in her life and Alekzander’s freedom, well, there was no choice. But until then…
“That would not work because I was never personally aware of anything he or his family did that might have been illegal. For all I know, their intimidating reputation could have been created simply to make themselves feel special.”
She saw Justin’s head turn her way but didn’t meet the look because then he’d see she was lying through her teeth. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel.
“This may sound insensitive, but why didn’t you go back home to your family when things fell apart here?”
Wishing he could drive faster, she answered honestly. “I am an only child, and, as you know, my parents are gone. But even if I had someone there, at that time, I could not afford to go home.” He frowned in confusion, so she went on, her cheeks heating. “While I was with Alekzander, I did not work, or go back to school as I had planned. When I left Russia, I dropped out of my fourth year of university,” she explained. “But I had every intention of applying to colleges here so I could finish my liberal arts degree. I had planned to go into the field of Human Resources, but, as I said, I did not.” She moved on because she could hear how defensive she was beginning to sound. “Alekzander enjoyed having me at home, and I enjoyed being there for him.”
Shame coated that last bit, revealing how little she thought of the decision she’d made back then. She should never have given up her independence. She suspected that had much to do with what had happened.
“So he kept you broke and dependent on him?” Justin questioned as they came out of the tunnel and traveled the relatively empty streets of Queens heading for Sunnyside.
“No, of course not. He was very generous. I had credit cards and a bank account that I could use freely.”
Feeling small, she wanted to add that she wasn’t a parasite, but hearing herself, she found she couldn’t. Her and Alekzander’s first real fight had been about her working to save the money she would need to return to school. He’d convinced her it wasn’t something that had to be decided right then and had quieted her protests by saying they’d discuss her education later. It had always been later. And she’d let him get away with discounting her future. Had she not been such a pushover, so eager to please him, would things have been different?
“I did not use his money after things ended,” she murmured.
“Why? Any other woman, especially a pregnant one, would have withdrawn a large chunk of cash—especially because as a Tarasov he could certainly afford it—and lived off it until she was back on her feet. Why didn’t you?”
“Because I did not want his money. I did not want anything from him.” She shifted, grinding her teeth at the warble in her voice. It signified weakness, and that embarrassed her. “Anyway,” she said, sneaking in another common word Americans used regularly. “How could I go home when I did not have enough money to buy an airline ticket, to rent an apartment once I got there, and to live until I found a job? I could not. So I stayed here where it had already become familiar. And Lekzi and I have done fine without him. Our life is simple, but that is all we need.” She might not have two homes and a private jet, but despite having to save most of her earnings, she was providing for her daughter, and she was proud of that.
When they eventually turned onto her street, she tried not to think about what it would cost her, financially and emotionally, to start over again. Another new city, no friends, no job, no place to live. And it would be so much worse this time because she was dragging her innocent daughter along, making her baby suffer for the sins of her parents…
The world stilled for a split second before Sacha felt the impact of her reality hit with the force of a punch.
A group of well-dressed men milled about in front of her apartment building. Two were on the sidewalk speaking with a uniformed NYPD officer while another two stood in front of the main entrance of the three-story walk-up.
Oh, God. “I told you.” Her whisper was eerily accepting. “He has come for me.”
DON'T MISS THE OTHER SIZZLING BOOKS IN THE WANTED MEN SERIES, FEATURING SEXY ALPHAS AND THE WOMEN THAT CONQUER THEIR HEARTS...
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ABOUT NANCY HAVILANDNancy Haviland, author of the bestselling organized crime series, WANTED MEN, writes about her alpha mobsters and their ladies from her home near Toronto, Ontario. She fights for space on her keyboard with her arrogant kitty named Talbot, and adores her Tim Horton’s coffee; as any self-respecting Canadian would. She writes contemporary romantic suspense but will happily read anything that involves two people smooching.
A member of Romance Writers of America, Nancy is represented by Nalini Akolekar of Spencerhill Associates, and is published by Montlake Romance/Amazon Publishing.
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KISS ME THAT WAY
Releasing May 31st, 2016
St. Martin's Paperbacks
A river divides Cottonbloom in two: the upscale enclave on the Mississippi side and the rundown, rough and tumble side in Louisiana. Theyâre worlds apartâbut nothing can build a bridge like loveâ¦
Cade Fournette never had it easy Cottonbloom. He stuck around long enough to raise his orphaned siblings and then hightailed it out Westâand never looked back. Even though heâs made a success of himself in Seattle, Cade never lost the toughness and the angry edge that helped him survive down South. His only weak spot: the girl he left behindâ¦
Monroe Kirby came from the wealthy side of town, but that didnât protect her from her motherâs drinkingâor her motherâs boyfriend. It was Cade who did that, on a long-ago hot September night, before he disappearedâ¦along with a piece of her heart. Now Monroe is a physical therapist who can fight for herself, and itâs Cade who could use some conditioning when he makes an unexpected return back home. Will he and Monroe pick up where they left off and finally explore their mutual passionâor will the scars and secrets of the past divide them once more?
Don't miss the next Cottonbloom romance
coming June 2016
An award-winning author, Laura Trentham was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. Although, she loved English and reading in high school, she was convinced an English degree equated to starvation. She chose the next most logical majorâChemical Engineeringâand worked in a hard hat and steel toed boots for several years.
She writes sexy, small town contemporaries and smoking hot Regency historicals. The first two books of her Falcon Football series were named Top Picks by RT Book Reviews magazine. When not lost in a cozy Southern town or Regency England, she's shuttling kids to soccer, helping with homework, and avoiding the Mt. Everest-sized pile of laundry that is almost as large as the to-be-read pile of books on her nightstand.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
All men suck! They lie, cheat, and break women's hearts. I'd all but given up on relationships when I met Ethan Harlow, a drop-dead gorgeous boxer at Kidd's Gym.
He was sexy, muscular, tattooed, and talented.
So, I decided to give boxing - and men - one last try.
My name is Jaz. I'm a boxer. This story is about my rise to fame, all the while doing the two things I enjoyed more than anything on earth.
Fucking and fighting.
Along the way, however, I found out everything there is to know about being loved.
And my life will never be the same.
Brawler is a STAND-ALONE, rags to riches romance. HEA, no cheating, no cliff hanger.
INCLUDED FREE after BRAWLER as an appreciation to my faithful readers is a copy of my #1 Amazon Best Selling Romantic Erotica F*ck Buddy. Thank you, and enjoy!!
I had decided I would tell Ethan what my concerns were, see what he thought, and make my decision on how to proceed with matters based on his responses. I didn’t expect him to commit to me, nor was a sure I wanted to commit to him, at least not yet.
As ridiculous as it sounded, I wanted confirmation that he intended to continue fucking me. I didn’t care what we chose to call our situation, I was concerned with more important things.
The most important thing.
“How long have we known each other?” I asked.
“A month. Give or take.”
“Things have changed between us here lately, and I want to discuss it.”
He looked worried. “Okay.”
“We’re fucking now.”
He returned an awkward stare. “Is that bad?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not bad, it’s just. I don’t want it to stop.”
Ethan wasn’t opposing me, but he sure wasn’t making me feel comfortable that he was vested in our conversation, either.
“I’ve got this fear that you’re going to walk away, and I’m going to be…”
It seemed strange telling him I was concerned that his big cock was going to ruin me from being able to be satisfied in the future. The longer I struggled with choosing the words to finish my sentence, the more ridiculous the entire conversation seemed.
I was mid-sentence into my explanation, and I wished I hadn’t even started our little cock talk.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I appreciated the reassurance, but I wasn’t convinced. “Give me a second. I wasn’t done with my thought, and I need to think of how to say it.”
My brain was mush. I’d never been one for beating around the bush, and there was no sense in starting now.
“You’ve got a really nice cock,” I said.
He seemed embarrassed, but eventually he smiled. “Thanks.”
“Really nice. And. Well. I was afraid that in a few weeks I’d be ruined, and then…you know…it’d be impossible to be satisfied in the future.”
There. I said it.
He stared back at me as if waiting for me to continue. I returned his stare, waiting for his response.
His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. “I’m lost. You said a minute ago that you didn’t want to stop doing it. Then, you said if we continued, you’d be ruined. Did I hurt you or something?”
“Yeah.” He gestured toward my crotch. “Tear your junk up?”
“No.” I chuckled. “You didn’t tear me up.”
He looked confused. “So what are we talking about?”
“I said I wanted some commitment from you that you weren’t going to just…I don’t know…walk away. You know, that you weren’t planning on hittin’ it and quitin’ it. Not that that’s never happened, because it has. But if it happens with you, I’d rather it happen now than after a while. I just don’t want to be left, you know, struggling to have orgasms later in life because I’m all hung up on thick cocks and I can’t find one after you’re gone. I know there aren’t any assurances in a deal like this, but I was wanting…I was hoping that you’d tell me that you weren’t planning on…” I cleared my throat. “Are you going to fuck me again?”
His eyes went wide. “Wow.”
I scrunched my nose and glared. “What?”
“You are a girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“You fight like a man. You walk like a man. You talk like a man. Well, when you cuss, anyway. But that? Whatever that was? That was one hundred percent girl. It made no sense whatsoever.”
“All of it.”
I had explained everything. For as polite and as attentive as he was, he was a complete man.
Never paying attention to what a woman says.
Born in San Diego California, Scott now calls Wichita, Kansas home. Residing in Kansas with his wife, Jessica, and six children, he somehow finds twelve hours a day to work on his writing.
Addicted to riding his Harley-Davidson, tattoos, and drinking coffee, Scott can generally be found in a tattoo shop, on his Harley, or in a local coffee house when not writing.
Scott is a hybrid author who both self-publishes and conventionally publishes. Look for a three book (mafia erotic romance) series releasing in 2016 through Harlequin Romance.
Loyal to the fans, fan girls, and faithful followers who allowed him to make writing a full-time career, Scott communicates with his followers on Facebook almost daily. He encourages his readers to follow him on Facebook and Twitter.
I don't trust people who follow their hearts. Hearts are peculiar things. They're necessary muscles that keep us alive by pumping blood and oxygen into our veins. Hearts are also compulsory, often making us foolish. They pull us towards others with a force that aches, burns, and satiates you all at once. Before you know it that mass of tissue is no longer yours.
Maybe mine never was.
In my case, that draw came from a stranger that left my heart feeling both fulfilled and consumed.
I didn't expect to fight her for the last standby seat to New York City. I didn't plan on letting her get under my skin. Or the way her vulnerability tore me up inside and compelled me to care for her. She didn't plan on letting me witness her chaos.
Her anxious heart and my perfectionist mind let things get messy.
And though we didn't plan for it, our interrupting of each others' lives was exactly what we needed.
Sometimes the mess is the most beautiful part of life.
We opted for dessert wine and some cheese instead of traditional sweets. The more wine she had the more unfiltered Margo became. She wasn't exactly holding back in the first place, but her last semblance of restraint melted away.
After paying for dinner, we walked out into the cold fall night. I wanted to take Margo somewhere I knew would make her nervous. Mostly, I wanted to push her to that point of no control to see if I could at least hold her again in some way. Any touch was better than none.
Sure, it was fucked up of me to purposely make her nervous, but I was desperate. And where in the past I would have blatantly flirted and tiptoed over lines with women, I didn't want to do that with her. I wanted her to come to me. There was something about letting things unfold naturally that pushed me to be on my best behavior.
It wasn't easy though. She'd lick her lips, beckoning me to look at them. Her tongue danced over her crimson lips, inducing a jolt of arousal that shocked through my entire body and ended in my cock. Images of what her naked body and imaginings of how she sounded when she came flooded my mind. I couldn't take it any longer. If I got her in bed, I wouldn't need foreplay. I probably wouldn't last very long either. Wouldn't that be painfully unfortunate?
In her tipsiness, she allowed me to put my arm around her waist as we walked. We'd done so in silence till I continued down some subway stairs. She jolted to a stop at the top and shoved against my arms. "Fuck no!"
Despite trying to pull her forward, she slithered out of my grasp. "Come on, you gotta do it if you're going to live here, Margo."
I took two steps down, leaving us at eye level.
Her eyes turned glassy, and they couldn't focus on me. She'd dart from my eyes to the half-lit buildings, or at the people ignoring her odd reaction. "I don't have to do it today, Hudson. I may not move at all…."
"Do you trust me?"
She hesitated, again looking around at her options for running away before eventually giving in.
"Then come here, I'll take care of you," I said, the truth of my words surprising me.
Reaching out to her, I waited for her to join me. She tilted her head and assessed me, staring into my eyes before lowering her gaze to my lips then throat. Was she that afraid of the subway? Or was it the offer of my hand?
I think it was my words. On the plane the night before, Margo looked at me with such surprise. Sure, we'd bickered, but I’d helped her, and she probably hadn't expected that. Maybe she'd never trusted anyone and didn't know why she wanted to trust me. Just like I didn't know why I wanted her so desperately, or struggled with that same unexpected confusion I couldn't silence.
Clasping my hand, she followed me to the automated machine downstairs where I purchased two one-way tickets. We approached the platform, and every little noise startled her. It was kind of cute to see her conquering her fears, but what impressed me was her need to prove herself to both of us. We boarded the over-filled train and had no option but to stand towards the back of the cart. With so many people around, we were squashed close together. I could feel the warmth radiating off her flawless skin. I could smell the remains of her incense and roses perfume that tempted me to lean in and press my nose and lips against her soft throat. The wine had also left me a little unhinged, stealing touches here and there. And she let me. Not once did she address my hand gripping her lower back whenever the train turned.
As if the universe could hear my plea, the train pulled out of the next station with a quick jerk and Margo's body propelled into mine. I caught her and wrapped my arms awkwardly around her waist. We were sealed together: her breasts on my lower chest, her torso leaning against my stomach and belt, the apex of her legs just barely cupping the center of my groin. I started hardening immediately, and I doubt it went unnoticed. All my hard edges were at home against her softness.
I couldn't help myself.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head and leaned over her. Holding my breath, I waited for her reaction to my brash affection, but she gave me back something I hadn't expected. She looked up at me and smiled. It was wide and brazen like her others, but it was also laced with a twinge of sadness. She whispered one thing. "You."
To which I replied, "Me?"
Margo nodded and pulled the collar of my shirt down before pressing her lips against my neck. They opened and left wet traces of her along my skin. It felt like fire—painful, searing, and warm. I wanted all of her, and I hoped that was Margo's way of telling me she wanted the same.
The train stopped and so did she. When she saw Times Square again, she inhaled deeply, the way someone does after swimming underwater for too long. With a squeeze of her shoulder, I led her straight into our hotel; the sooner I got her in private, the better. The elevator music was accompanied with my heartbeat and the machinery groaning around us. I could see all the ways I wanted to please her so clearly in my head, and every nerve ending in my body was burning with the need to touch her.
But I couldn't. I wasn't sure I could go through with it.
Have you ever had a moment so perfect that you don't want to do anything to fuck it up? That night with the girl in the dress and Chucks was a string of perfect moments all dangling together in my mind. Despite assuming I'd never see Margo again, I still didn't want to risk messing up the image I'd always have of her. It just didn't seem right, at least not if I initiated it. I didn't want her rejection to taint the pedestal she'd earned in my mind.
While I watched her walking ahead of me, I thought about making any move I could. I thought about kissing her again and seeing where it went. I considered just bluntly telling her I wanted to be inside her. Maybe she'd have liked that. But as she slid the key into her room door, I remained frustratingly mute. Margo turned and looked at me with heavy eyelids and flushed cheeks. In a raspy whisper, she said words I'd been dying to hear.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Really?" I stepped back. The desperation I had for her sincerity was drowning me in doubt.
Margo moved closer, pressing her soft center against my firm one. With her hand against my throat, feeling my pounding heartbeat beneath my stubble-laden skin, she looked up at me. Her gaze was penetrating and flooded with desire.
"Hudson, we've been eye-fucking each other all night, let's be honest now. I'm dying to know what you'll do to me if I let you."
With that admission, I became someone else. An animal. A tempted addict. A man craving only her. Grabbing her arm, I pushed her in and shut the door by slamming her against the back of it. She looked up with the most evocative grin and hummed in approval. Looking down at her, I grabbed her neck and wrapped my fingers around it.
"You have no idea what I've imagined tonight thanks to this fucking dress and that delicious mouth."
Before she could reply, I sealed my lips against hers. There was no turning back.
Stephanie Alba lives in Miami, Florida with her husband, her toddler and their two dogs, Milo and Van Gogh. She's obsessed with Disney, British history, traveling, romances novels, movies, and Halloween. When she's not glued to her laptop or writing in her notebook, she's either: running, planning her next vacation, binge-watching Netflix, reading, or chasing her toddler.
Author: Elizabeth SaFleur
Genre: Contemporary erotic romance
Congressman Jonathan Brond has mastered his work, his reputation and the art of sexual domination while keeping his familyâs political legacy intact. But a chance encounter with 19-year-old college student Christiana Snow promises an irresistible challenge, and something heâd given up on long ago â meeting someone honest.
After her disappointing freshman year, Christiana is about to declare âadventure bankruptcyâ when the charismatic man proposes a summer of sensual, sexual submission. She jumps into his world of bondage, expensive lingerie and being taken, everywhere.
But, as he lures her into the Dominant/submissive relationship, they both learn how unforgiving Washington, DC really is. In a city that feeds on gossip and scandal, Christiana and Jonathan find it hard to keep their relationship intact â and secret. Yet, Jonathan knows that in a town of players, sometimes the only way to win is to introduce a new game. Neither imagines that falling in love would be the winning plan.
Writing erotic romance is the most fun Iâve ever had. (Well, except for the research.)
Many of my books are set in Washington, DC, where I lived and worked many years, running a public relations firm. In my PR career Iâve been fortunate to encounter or represent some of the cityâs powerful insiders. I write, tweet and post under my pseudonym, Elizabeth SaFleur, since my clients might be a little shocked at how their counselor spends her free time. Then again, perhaps theyâd fear they provided inspiration. (Iâll never tell.)
Today, I live in Virginia with my husband and furry child. Occasionally Iâm separated from my laptop to indulge in dance classes and visit wineries and hiking trails with family and friends. If there were a house fire, Iâd grab my dog, laptop and five-foot-long, regulation, Sally Rand ostrich feather fans â in that order. (Hubby knows the way out.)
Iâm a member of the Romance Writers of America, Washington Romance Writers, and an ongoing student of fiction writing, as well as avid reader of general fiction and romance, especially the erotic kind.
If youâd like to connect elsewhere, please circle me on Google+ or connect with me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest or Goodreads.
Honest reviews of my writing are always welcomed, and know I appreciate each and every reader.
Author: Susan Renee
Genre: New Adult/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 22, 2016
Moving back home wasn't anything I ever wanted.
But after enduring the worst,
Going home was the only answer.
Being back is everything I thought it would be...
Awful, isolating, a constant reminder of what I lost.
And the last thing I need--or want--is more reminders of my past,
Especially Bryant Wood.
That's all I feel--all I can see when I look at Savannah Turner.
I want to hold her, feel her, love her,
And thank her for what's she given me.
But I can't show her the gratitude.
The gift she's given me.
It'll ruin everything.
A secret I must keep--a secret that could break her.
All over again.
January 1, 2013
“You are my sunshine…”
“My only sunshine…”
Fight for mommy.
“You make me happy…”
Breathe baby girl.
“When skies are gray…”
You can do it Peyton.
“You’ll never know dear…”
Please. Please Peyton breathe on your own.
“How much I love you.”
Don’t you die on me baby girl.
“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”
Beep. Swoosh…..Beep. Swoosh…..Beep. Swoosh.
I sit here next to her hospital bed holding her little seventeen-month old lifeless fingers, so delicate, so small. I think about her first birthday and how adorable she was with cake all over her face, her tummy and in her hair. Peyton is the happiest little girl and so full of life.
She was so full of life.
Susan Renee wants to live in a world where paint doesn’t smell, Hogwarts is open twenty-four/seven, and everything is covered in glitter. An indie romance author, Susan has written about everything from lawn mowers to thick colossal bottles of wine, and has won a Snuggle Buddy award for her nonfiction book, “The Hula Hoop Tester’s Guide to Jumping.” She lives in Ohio with her family and seven tiny donkeys. She’s a Pet Whispering major from OMGU with a Masters in medical care for inanimate objects (a la Doc McStuffins). Susan enjoys crab-walking through the Swiss Alps, drinking Muscle Milk, and doing the Care Bear stare with her closest friends.
UNTIL THEN by Delisa Lynn
— SYNOPSIS --
My name is Kole Harris, and I loved being a detective. Until…
One cold September day, everything in my world imploded. After losing my wife, I was sure I’d never be whole again. I never imagined my life could be normal. Drinking and one-night stands became my new normal—the only way I knew to survive the pain.
She opened my eyes and made me believe I can love again. She showed me what it’s like to wake up next to a woman and not run, how to leave the guilt behind and live again—and that I deserve to have a life. I never knew love like this, or craved anyone as much as I crave her.
My name is Rosealy Taylor, and two years ago I lost the only man I’d ever loved…
Moving on seemed overwhelming, but I had to learn that loving someone else was possible. However, the heartache from his past has built a wall around the love I know he can give. I never thought I could give my heart to someone else.
Will our painful pasts destroy any hope for our future?
— PURCHASE --
— ABOUT THE AUTHOR —
Delisa Lynn grew up in Columbus Ohio, she is currently residing in Western New York with her husband and fur daughter Sophie. During the day she works as a Medical Assistant and at night, she types away on her laptop, allowing her characters to escape her mind. Pink is her favorite color, and she loves anything animal print. She loves traveling, shopping and baking. When Delisa isn’t working or writing you can catch her snuggled up with her kindle reading about her newest book boyfriend.
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Title: Savage Sacrifice
Series: Savage Angels MC
Author: Kathleen Kelly
Release Date: May 31, 2016
Rockstar Princess Kat Saunders is enjoying her world tour with the band, RockPlay a little too much. Captured on camera kissing bad boy rocker, Will Van Ryken, her world is about to get turned upside down.
When Dane Reynolds, President of Savage Angels MC tries to confront his wife, another kind of hell descends upon him.
Guilty, ashamed and disgusted in his own behavior, Dane skips town and heads home to Tourmaline knowing what he must sacrifice for his wife.
Will he give up the club, his family, to save his marriage?
It seems Will Van Ryken is harboring some dirty secrets of his own and when the Savage Angels receive a tip about his associations with a known drug lord, they instantly fear Kat may be slipping back into old habits.
Dane has no intention of giving up on his woman. Can The Grinders and the Savage Angels work together to keep their princess safe from the clutches of this devil in disguise?
What will it take for Kat to go running back into the arms of the only man she's ever loved?
**Disclaimer: Please note, things are not always as they seem and you will not find cheaters in my books
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Kathleen Kelly was born in Penrith, NSW, Australia. When she was four her family moved to Brisbane, QLD, Australia. Although born in NSW she considers herself a QUEENSLANDER!! She married her childhood sweetheart and they live in Toowoomba with their two furry kids. A British Short Hair named Grace and a Burmese named Jack. Kathleen enjoys writing contemporary, romance novels with a little bit of erotica. She draws her inspiration from family, friends and the people around her. She can often be found in cafes writing and observing the locals. If you have any questions about her novels or would like to ask Kathleen a question she can be contacted via e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org or she can be found on Facebook. She loves to be contacted by those that love her books.