Sale Blitz: Escaping Reality by Lisa Renee Jones- The Secret Life of Amy Bensen Series – Book 1

Posted on 05/04/2015 by shellbellereads

Escaping Reality

The Secret Life of Amy Bensen – Book 1

By Lisa Renee Jones

Synopsis

About the series: At the young age of eighteen, tragedy and a dark secret force Lara to flee all she has known and loved to start a new life. Now years later, with a new identity as Amy, she’s finally dared to believe she is forgotten—even if she cannot forget. But just when she lets her guard down, the ghosts of her past are quick to punish her, forcing her back on the run.

On a plane, struggling to face the devastation of losing everything again and starting over, Amy meets Liam Stone, a darkly entrancing recluse billionaire, who is also a brilliant, and famous, prodigy architect. A man who knows what he wants and goes after it. And what he wants is Amy. Refusing to take “no” as an answer, he sweeps her into a passionate affair, pushing her to her erotic limits. He wants to possess her. He makes her want to be possessed. Liam demands everything from her, accepting nothing less. But what if she is too devastated by tragedy to know when he wants more than she should give?

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes

Excerpt: Chapter One

Amy…

My name is all that is written on the plain white envelope taped to the mirror.

I step out of the stall inside the bathroom of Manhattan’s Metropolitan Museum, and the laughter and joy of the evening’s charity event I’ve been enjoying fades away. Fear and dread slam into me, shooting adrenaline through my body. No. No. No. This cannot be happening and yet it is. It is, and I know what it means. Suddenly, the room begins to shift and everything goes gray. I fight the flashback I haven’t had in years, but I am already right there in it, in the middle of a nightmare. The scent of smoke burns my nose. The sound of blistering screams shreds my nerves. There is pain and heartache, and the loss of all I once had and will never know again. Fighting a certain meltdown, I swallow hard and shove away the gut-wrenching memories. I can’t let this happen. Not here, not in a public place. Not when I’m quite certain danger is knocking on my door.

On wobbly knees and four-inch black strappy heels that had made me feel sexy only minutes before and clumsy now, I step forward and press my palms to the counter. I can’t seem to make myself reach for the envelope and my gaze goes to my image in the mirror, to my long white-blond hair I’ve worn draped around my shoulders tonight rather than tied at my nape, and done so as a proud reflection of the heritage of my Swedish mother I’m tired of denying. Gone too are the dark-rimmed glasses I’ve often used to hide the pale blue eyes both of my parents had shared, making it too easy for me to see the empty shell of a person I’ve become. If this is what I am at twenty-four years old, what I will be like at thirty-four?

Voices sound outside the doorway and I yank the envelope from the mirror and rush into the stall, sealing myself inside. Still chatting, two females enter the bathroom, and I tune out their gossip about some man they’d admired at the party. I suddenly need to confirm my fate. Leaning against the wall, I open the sealed envelope to remove a plain white note card and a key drops to the floor that looks like it goes to a locker. Cursing my shaking hand, I bend down and scoop it up. For a moment, I can’t seem to stand up. I want to be strong. I have to be strong. I shove to my feet and blink away the burning sensation in my eyes to read the few short sentences typed on the card.

I’ve found you and so can they. Go to JFK Airport directly. Do not go home. Do not linger. Locker 111 will have everything you need.

My heart thunders in my chest as I take in the signature that is nothing more than a triangle with some writing inside of it. It’s the tattoo that had been worn on the arm of the stranger who I’d met only once before. He’d saved my life and helped me restart my life, and he’d made sure I knew that symbol meant that I am in danger and I have to run.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting a wave of emotions. Once again, my life is about to be turned upside down. Once again I will lose everything, and while everything is so much less than before, it’s all I have. I crumble the note in my hand, desperate to make it, and this hell that is my reality, go away. After six years of hiding, I’d dared to believe I could find “normal”, but that was a mistake. Deep down, I’ve known that since two months ago when I’d left my job at the central library as a research assistant, to work at the museum. Being here is treading water too close to the bridge.

I straighten and listen as the women’s voices fade before the room goes silent. Anger erupts inside me at the idea that my life is about to be stolen from me again and I tear the note in tiny pieces, flush them down the toilet and shove the envelope into the trash. I want to throw away the key too, but some part of me won’t let that happen. Probably the smart, unemotional part of me that I hate right now.

Unzipping the small black purse I have strapped across my chest and over my pale blue blazer, that despite my tight budget, I’d splurged on for this new job, I drop the key inside, sealing it away. I’m going to finish my party. Maybe I’m going to finish my life right here in New York City. The note didn’t say I’d been found. It only warned I could be found. I don’t want to run again. I don’t. I need time to think, to process, and that is going to have to wait until after the party.

Decision made, I exit the stall, cutting my eyes away from the mirror and heading for the door. I do not want anyone to see me right now when I have no idea who me is or will be tomorrow. In a zone, that numb place I’ve used as a survival tool almost as many times as I’ve tried to find the meaning of that symbol on the note, I follow the soft hum of orchestra music from well-placed speakers, entering a room with a high oval ceiling decorated with magnificent artwork. I tell myself to get lost in the crush of patrons in business attire, while waiters toting trays offer champagne and finger foods, but I don’t. I simply stand there, mourning the new life I’ve just begun, and I know is now gone. My “zone” has failed me.

“Where have you been?”

The question comes as Chloe Monroe, the only person I’ve let myself consider a friend in years, steps in front of me, a frown on her heart-shaped face. From her dark brown curls bouncing around her shoulders to her outgoing personality and fun, flirty attitude, she is my polar opposite and I love that about her. She is everything I am not and hoped I would become. Now I will lose her. Now I will lose me again.

“Well,” she prods when I don’t reply quickly enough, shoving her hands onto her hips, “where have you been?”

“Bathroom,” I say. “There was a line.” I sound awkward. I feel awkward. I hate how easily the lie comes to me, how it defines me. A lie is all that I am.

Chloe’s brow puckers. “Hmmm. There wasn’t one when I was there. I guess I got lucky.” She waves off the thought. “Sabrina is freaking out over some donation paperwork she can’t find and says she needs you. I thought you were doing research When did you start handling donor paperwork?”

“Last week, when she got overwhelmed,” I say, and perk up at the idea that my new boss needs me. I don’t need to leave. I need to be needed even if it’s just for tonight. “Where is she?”

“By the front desk.” She laces her arm through mine. “And I’m tagging along with you. I have a sixty-year-old admirer who’s bordering on stalker. I need to hide before he hunts me down.”

She tugs me forward, and I let her, too distracted by her words to stop her. She’s worried about being hunted but I am the one being hunted. I thought I wasn’t anymore. I thought I was safe, but I am never safe, and neither is anyone around me. I’ve lived that first hand. I felt that heartache of loss, and while being alone sucks, losing someone you care about is far worse.

My selfishness overwhelms me and I stop dead in my tracks to pull Chloe around to face me. “Tell Sabrina I’m grabbing the forms and will be right there.”

“Oh. Yes okay.” Chloe lets go of my arm, and for a moment I fight the urge to hug her, but that would make her seem important to me, and someone could be watching. I turn away from her and rush for a door, and I feel sick to my stomach knowing that I will never see her again.

I finally exit the side of the building into the muggy August evening, and head for a line of cabs, but I do not rush or look around me. I’ve learned ways to avoid attention, and going to work for a place that has a direct link to the world I’d left behind hadn’t been one of them. It had simply been a luxury I’m now paying for.

“JFK Airport,” I pant as I slide into the back of a cab, and rub the back of my neck at a familiar prickling sensation. A feeling I’d had often my first year on my own, when I’d been certain danger waited for me around every corner. Hunted. I’m being hunted. All the denial I own won’t change my reality.

* * * * *

The ride to the airport is thirty minutes and it takes me another fifteen to find locker 111 once I’m inside the building. I pull it open and there is a carry-on-sized roller suitcase and a smaller brown leather shoulder bag with a large yellow envelope sticking up from inside the open zipper. I have no desire to be watched while I explore what’s been left for me. I remove the locker’s contents, and follow the sign that indicates a bathroom.

Once again in a stall, I pull down the baby changer and check the contents of the envelope on top. There is file folder, a bank card, a cell phone, a passport, a notecard, and another small sealed envelope. I reach for the note first.

There is cash in the bank account and the code is 1850. I’ll add more as you need it and until you get fully settled. You’ll find a new social security card, driver’s license, and passport as well. You have a complete history to memorize and a résumé and job history that will check out if looked into. Throw out your cell phone. The new one is registered under your new name and address. There’s a plane ticket and the keys to an apartment along with a location. Toss all identification and don’t use your bank account or credit cards. Be smart. Don’t link yourself to your past. Stay away from museums this time.

A new name. That’s what stands out to me. I’m getting another new name. No. No. No. My heart races at the idea. I don’t want another new name. Even more than I don’t want to be back on the run, I don’t want another new name. I feel like a girl having her hair chopped off. I’m losing part of myself. After living a lie for years, I’m losing the only part of my fake identity I’d ever really accepted as me.

I grab the passport and flip it open and my hand trembles at the sight of a photo that is a present-day me. How did this stranger I met only one time in my life get a picture of me this recent? It doesn’t matter I’d once considered him my Guardian Angel. I’m freaked out by this. Has he been watching me all this time? I shiver at the idea, and my only comfort is my new name. I’m now Amy Bensen rather than Amy Reynolds. I’m still Amy. It is the one piece of good news in all of this and I cling to it, using it to stave off the meltdown I feel coming. I just have to hold it together until I get on the plane. Then I can sink into my seat and think myself into my “zone” that I can’t seem to fully find.

Flipping open the folder, I find an airline ticket. I’m going to Denver and I leave in an hour. I’ve never been anywhere but Texas and New York. All I know about Denver is it’s big, cold, and the next place I will pretend is home when I have no home. The thought makes my chest pinch, but fear of what might await me if I don’t run pushes me past it.

I turn off my cell phone so it won’t ping and stuff it, with everything but my new ID and plane ticket, back into the envelope. I have my own money in the bank and I’m not about to get rid of my identification and access to that resource. Besides, the idea of using a bank card that allows me to be tracked bothers me. I’ll be visiting the bank tomorrow and removing any cash I can get my hands on. When I’d been eighteen, naive and alone, I’d blindly trusted a stranger I’d called my Guardian Angel. I might have to trust him now too, but it won’t be blindly.

Making my way to check in, I fumble through using the ticket machine and my new identification and then track a path to security. A few minutes later, I’m on the other side of the metal detectors and I stop at a store to buy random things I might need. All is going well until I arrive at the ticket counter.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Bensen,” the forty-something woman begins. “We had an administrative error and seats were double-booked. We—”

“I have to be on this flight,” I say in a hissed whispered with my heart in my throat. “I have to be on this flight.”

“I can get you a voucher and the first flight tomorrow.”

“No. No. Tonight. Give someone a bigger voucher to get me a seat.”

“I—”

“Talk to a supervisor,” I insist, because while avoiding attention means I am not a pushy person, and despite my initial denial of my circumstances that might suggest otherwise, I have no death wish. I am alive and plan to stay that way.

She purses her lips and looks like she might argue, but finally she turns away and makes a path toward a man in uniform. Their heads dip low and he glances at me before the woman returns. “We have you on standby and we’ll try to get you on.”

“How likely is it you’ll get me on?”

“We’re going to try.”

“Try how hard?”

Her lips purse again. “Very.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I have a…crisis of sorts. I really have to get to my destination.” There is a thread of desperation to my voice I do not contain well.

Her expression softens and I know she heard it. “I understand and I am sorry this happened,” she assures me. “We are trying to make this right and so you don’t panic please know that we have to get everyone boarded before we make any passenger changes. You’ll likely be the last on the plane.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling awkward. “I’ll just go sit.” Definitely flustered, I turn away from the counter. Ignoring the few vacant seats, I head to the window and settle my bags on the floor beside me. Leaning against the steel handrail on the glass, I position myself to see everyone around me to be sure I’m prepared for any problem before it’s on me. And that’s when the room falls away, when my gaze collides withhis.

He is sitting in a seat that faces me, one row between us, his features handsomely carved, his dark hair a thick, rumpled finger temptation. He’s dressed in faded jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, but he could just as easily be wearing a finely fitted suit and tie. He is older than me, maybe thirty, but there is a worldliness, a sense of control and confidence, about him that reaches beyond years. He is money, power, and sex, and while I cannot make out the color of his eyes, I don’t need to. All that matters is that he is one hundred percent focused on me, and me on him. A moment ago I was alone in a crowd and suddenly, I’m with him. As if the space between us is nothing. I tell myself to look away, that everyone is a potential threat, but I just…can’t.

His eyes narrow the tiniest bit, and then his lips curve ever so slightly and I am certain I see satisfaction slide over his face. He knows I cannot look away. I’ve become his newest conquest, of which I am certain he has many, and I’ve embarrassingly done so without one single moan of pleasure in the process.

“Inviting our first-class guests to board now,” a female voice says over the intercom.

I blink and my new, hmmm, whatever he is, pushes to his feet and slides a duffle onto his shoulder. His eyes hold mine, a hint of something in them I can’t quite make out. Challenge, I think. Challenge? What kind of challenge? I don’t have time to figure it out. He turns away, and just like that I’m alone again.

SERIES READING ORDER & SALE LINKS

Escaping Reality #1

Amazon –http://amzn.to/1K7A0bb

Paperback (5/5/15) – http://amzn.to/1GDFbwt

B&N – http://goo.gl/2V9TNr

iBooks – http://goo.gl/JCNGw6

Audio (3/3/15) – http://goo.gl/Z6f1qt

Infinite Possibilities #2 (Available NOW!)

Amazon – http://amzn.to/1JXOmuG

Paperback (7/7/15) – http://amzn.to/1zAQNmY

B&N – http://goo.gl/wis7TU

iBooks – http://goo.gl/RKjJ1C

Goodreads – http://goo.gl/ZZcv2F

PRE-ORDER BOOKS 3 & 4 NOW!

Forsaken #3 (8/18/15)

Amazon – http://amzn.to/1I484rm

Paperback: http://amzn.to/1QVISG4

B&N – http://goo.gl/ZQF0ym

iBooks – http://goo.gl/aAEc97

Goodreads – http://goo.gl/iTfjOj

Unbroken #4 (9/7/15)

Amazon – http://amzn.to/1I488Yb

B&N – http://goo.gl/wzrIUZ

iBooks – http://goo.gl/RDcZVF

Goodreads – http://goo.gl/pnEFf1

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT SERIES, and is now in development by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland) for cable TV. In addition, her Tall, Dark and Deadly series and The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series, both spent several months on a combination of the NY Times and USA Today lists.

Watch the video on casting for the INSIDE TV Show HERE

Since beginning her publishing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than 40 books translated around the world. Booklist says that Jones suspense truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann.

Prior to publishing, Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by Dallas Women Magazine. In 1998 LRJ was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at on her website and she is active on twitter and facebook daily.

Blog Tour + Review + Giveaway: Marrow by Tarryn Fisher

Posted on 05/01/2015 by shellbellereads

Happy Release Day to Marrow by Tarryn Fisher! We are so excited to be sharing the release of another much anticipated book from this amazing author!!

♥ BUY THE BOOK ♥

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

In the Bone there is a house.

In the house there is a girl.

In the girl there is a darkness.

Margo is not like other girls. She lives in a derelict neighborhood called the Bone, in a cursed house, with her cursed mother, who hasn’t spoken to her in over two years. She lives her days feeling invisible. It’s not until she develops a friendship with her wheelchair-bound neighbor, Judah Grant, that things begin to change. When neighborhood girl, seven-year-old Nevaeh Anthony, goes missing, Judah sets out to help Margo uncover what happened to her.

What Margo finds changes her, and with a new perspective on life, she’s determined to find evil and punish it–targeting rapists and child molesters, one by one.

But hunting evil is dangerous, and Margo risks losing everything, including her own soul.

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♥ BUY THE BOOK ♥

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

Robin’s Review

In her new psychological thriller, Tarryn Fisher writes about an imaginary town in Washington State named Bone Harbor. The inhabitants of The Bone are impoverished. There is little hope for a better life. As the children of The Bone grow older, their life force is drained. Faith is missing. Depression is commonplace. People are undereducated, desperate, mentally incapable and abused. Criminal activity is widespread. Folks numb themselves with alcohol. Malnourishment is prevalent. If you are raised in The Bone, in The Bone you will remain.

What was the inspiration behind writing Marrow? Children suffering for the sins of their parents. People hurting each other. Individuals crying out for help. The lack of a voice for those who are persecuted. Fisher wrote a letter to readers that can be found at the end of her novel. Marrow was borne as a way for her to cope with feelings of hopelessness for people who suffer. If Tarryn Fisher could not take vengeance on behalf of a suffering child, she decided Margo Moon would do it for her.

Margo narrates her own story. We first meet her at the age of thirteen. She lives with her prostitute mother in the “eating house” on Wessex Street. Margo gradually paints a picture of decline in the relationship with her mother after the early years of her life. She befriends Judah Grant, a handsome boy who is confined to a wheelchair. Judah lives just a few houses down the street from Margo, and he is her only friend. Judah becomes a source of encouragement and support for Margo, even when life in The Bone continues to be oppressive. When a young girl from their neighborhood goes missing, Margo and Judah join the search to find her. Margo is observant. Her eyes are slowly opening, and the truth that she sees sparks an anger that irrevocably changes her life.

Why choose the name Marrow? Marrow is a metaphor for the essential self. It’s your very essence. Marrow is a psychological thriller, but it’s also a character study of Margo Moon. Fisher’s background in psychology was beneficial in crafting this novel. Margo undergoes a dramatic transformation during her teenage years. She’s determined to find a way to leave The Bone. She is incredibly angry at the injustice she sees. She is no longer meek. Margo wants vengeance for all of the innocents. She follows her own moral code and delivers her own form of justice. Fisher calls it “poetic vengeance.”

Marrow is like nothing I have ever read. Tarryn Fisher’s writing style is creative, poetic and brilliant – it always has been – but she really steps up her game with Marrow. It’s a very intelligent story from both a societal and psychological perspective. Getting inside of Margo’s head was both dark and disturbing. Flashes of Fisher’s witty sense of humor are peppered throughout the story to help temper the darkness. It was fascinating for me to follow the slow deterioration of Margo’s reasoning – her descent into becoming a sociopath. Although there are places where the story was slow, I do feel much of Margo’s inner dialogue is necessary to see the gradual changes to her personality. When Marrow begins to feel like a psychological thriller? That’s when you really find out what’s in Margo’s marrow!

If you are interested in Marrow, you should consider reading Mud Vein (also written by Tarryn Fisher) first. Although Mud Vein and Marrow are meant to stand alone, the plots of both novels are loosely tied together. In my opinion, reading Mud Vein before Marrow will significantly improve your reading experience. If you love reading dark thrillers, I highly recommend 4.5 star Marrow!

Tarryn Fisher is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of six novels. Her newest novel, Marrow, just released in April 2015 and she is currently working on the second installment of Never Never. She is the co-founder of Clothed Caption, a fashion blog she runs with her friend, Madison Seidler. Tarryn resides in the Seattle area with her family. She loves rainy days, Coke, and thinks Instagram is the new Facebook. Tarryn is represented by Amy Tannenbaum of the Jane Rotrosen Agency.

Facebook | Twitter | Website | Instagram | Goodreads

Giveaway

Kindle Copies of Marrow

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brenda Novak For The Cure of Diabetes: Sweet Seduction Box Set, Sweet Talk Box Set, and Sweet Dreams Box Set

Posted on 05/01/2015 by shellbellereads

SWEET SEDUCTION

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo / Google Play

Make a difference while you read! All proceeds from the sale of Sweet Seduction will be donated to the Diabetes Research Institute via Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research.

SWEET SEDUCTION (13 All NEW Erotic Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes)

Lexi Blake, Mari Carr, JS Cooper, Nicole Edwards, Karen Erickson, Megan Hart, J Kenner, Julia Kent, Elisabeth Grace, Lauren Hawkeye, Nina Lane, Roni Loren, and Avery Aster, with Lisa Renee Jones.

This stunning limited edition collection features thirteen BRAND NEW contemporary romances by New York Times and USA Today Bestselling authors…

Featuring a foreword and a bonus book by New York Times Bestselling Author Lisa Renee Jones.

From New York Times bestselling Author Lexi Blake comes LUSCIOUS, a novella set in her Masters and Mercenaries world. When Macon Miles meets sweet waitress Alison Jones, he knows she’s trouble, but he can’t imagine how her secrets will rock his world.

Sparks fly in Texas when a soldier comes home to the girl he left behind in New York Times bestselling author Mari Carr’s WAITING FOR YOU.

Sex. Lies. Romance. Love. My life has it all. I do what I want, when I want and no one can stop me. This isn’t a story of how I found my prince. Or my how my prince found me. This is my life. My diary. This is the true diary of ‘that girl’. CONFESSIONS OF A SEXAHOLIC by New York Times bestselling author JS Cooper.

New York Times bestselling author Nicole Edwards revisits Tag and McKenna, a power couple who have gone from infatuation to adoration in ADORED (Club Destiny #7.5).

New York Times bestselling author Karen Erickson presents a brand new, very sexy contemporary romance about finding love in the most unexpected places…

When love is determined, it will always find a way. From New York Times bestselling author Megan Hart comes PERFECTLY RECKLESS, a new novel about love, lust, loss and rediscovery between two people who should never have fallen in love…or out of it.

Spend some time with Nikki and Damien Stark in this sexy and sensual bonus story in J. Kenner’s STARK EVER AFTER series of novellas.

When Random Acts of Crazy’s bass player, Joe Ross, gets injured in an unfortunate sex act that gains nationwide coverage, it’s tatted-up Tyler (aka “Frown”) to the rescue for their first big concert. THE RANDOM TOUR: LOS ANGELES by New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent.

With INDECISION, Elisabeth Grace brings you another hot story with heart that follows a small town’s wild child and the police officer who tries to tame her–he has no idea what he’s in for.

From New York Times bestselling author Lauren Hawkeye comes THE BILLIONAIRE YOU KNOW, the newest tale in her bestselling Billionaire series.

In STICKY by New York Times bestselling author Nina Lane, a plate of sugar cookies sparks an edgy, red-hot affair between married PTO president Madeline Collins and the hot, new school principal, who teaches her a very dirty lesson.

From New York Times bestselling author Roni Loren comes WANDERLUST, the story of a magazine writer who needs to land the big story and the bad boy rockstar who’s determined to protect his band’s secrets. His plan? Get her off her game by getting her into his bed.

For fans of such films as Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Wild Things comes a ménage romance posing the question, can two men share the same woman forever? UNCONVENTIONAL (The Manhattanites) by Avery Aster.

Don’t forget to check out SWEET TALK and SWEET DREAMS, two more limited edition collections from Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research… read and help the fight against diabetes!

_____________________________________________________________________________

Excerpts

SEDUCE ME

by J. Kennner

I’m tapping the end of my pencil against the overfull sheet–because despite owning my own web and mobile app development company, I print my schedule every morning–when Damien approaches.

I know that he is there even though he has yet to say a word. Perhaps I heard his bare feet on the wooden floor. Perhaps the air shifted as he passed. Or perhaps he is simply Damien Stark, and I could no more fail to notice his presence than I could miss a tidal wave.

But more likely, I think it is because he has so thoroughly claimed me that there is never a time when I am not blissfully and totally aware of him.

I am in the library on the mezzanine of the exceptional Malibu house that was still under construction when I first started dating Damien. Now it is our home, and each place within these walls is precious to me. I’m at the desk near the section where Damien has shelved his sci-fi/fantasy collection, with tattered paperbacks tucked in with pristine, signed first editions. A few feet away, the newest addition to our household is curled up into a tiny ball of orange fluff in one of the comfy leather chairs.

This is Damien’s favorite place to work, and that’s part of why I come here almost every morning–I like to feel close to him.

Right now, I feel very close indeed.

“You’re amazing, you know.” I speak without turning around, then smile when I hear his soft chuckle behind me.

“Because I can sneak up on you?” This time I do hear his footsteps as he moves even closer.

“I knew you were there. By definition, that isn’t sneaking. Or, at least, it’s not successful sneaking.”

“You make a good point, Mrs. Stark.” His hands press gently on my shoulders, and I close my eyes, just soaking up the feel of him. It’s more potent than coffee, and if I could bottle this feeling, I’d be richer than my husband.

I haven’t yet turned to look at him, but I don’t need to. I’ve long ago memorized every delicious inch of him. His raven-black hair, so familiar to my fingers. His perfectly sculpted face, softened by the slightest shadow of beard stubble. His lean, well-muscled athlete’s body that looks equally exceptional in jeans or a tux. And, of course, his dual-colored eyes that can look right to my core and see all my secrets.

It is not yet seven on a Friday morning and though I’m still in my typical morning uniform of a T-shirt and baggy shorts, I know that he is already dressed. I inhale, confirming that assumption. I smell the soap from his shower. The hint of musk from the cologne I bought him in Paris on our honeymoon just a few months ago.

“So tell me, why am I amazing?”

“To answer that, I’d need Power Point, a projector, and at least two days.” I tilt my head back so that I can grin at him, and my heart skitters when I see his face, even more perfect then the picture I keep tucked away in my mind. “But in this particular instance, I was referring to your time management skills.” Damien accomplishes more in a day than most people do in a year. Frankly, I think it’s highly likely that superpowers are involved.

“Busy day?”

“By human standards. For you, it’s probably a cakewalk. For me, I’m going to have to do some juggling.”

I push the chair away from the desk and stand, then lean back so that I’m half-sitting on it, my rear pressed against the edge. Damien’s attention is entirely on my face, and there is such a look of hunger in his eyes that I have to smile. “Careful, or you’ll be late for work.”

“I find that’s one of the perks of running my own company. There’s no one to slap my hand when I break the rules.”

I hear the thread of playfulness in his voice and match it. “Do you break the rules often, Mr. Stark?”

He lifts his hand, then brushes my hair away from my neck so that his fingertips can stroke my tender skin, then trace down along my collarbone. “As often as possible,” he says.

INDECISION

By: Elisabeth Grace

I dropped my hands to my side. “Are you arresting me?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Relax. I’m going to pat you down to make sure you don’t have anything I need to be concerned about and then I’m going to conduct the sobriety test.”

Un-fucking-believable. This was unreal. Never in my life. I held my tongue as I stomped over to the trunk, faced it, and placed my palms on the hot metal.

“Is there anything on you I should know about? Any drugs, needles, paraphernalia?” he asked in a way that indicated he’d administered one of these on more than a few occasions.

“Of course not,” I clipped.

He came to stand behind me. I couldn’t see him, but his presence this close to me was like a magnet drawing me to him, and I found myself wanting to back up into his hard body.

He crouched down and why, oh why couldn’t I get the image of him putting his face between my legs out of my head? Like I’d let this asshole touch me. When his hands circled my ankle, I sucked in a breath and fought the urge to bring my feet together to ease the ache in my center.

He slid his hands up my leg and I swore I heard a small groan escape his lips. My skin was tingling with awareness as his warm hands passed over me. Stopping short of the V of my thighs, he repeated the action on my other leg, moving just as slowly from the bottom to the top.

His hands then landed on my bare skin at my waist, and the sensation spread until it concentrated in my core. As his hands slid up to just below my breasts, I heard his breathing grow ragged behind me, and I had to fight the urge to press back into him.

Damn, what was wrong with me?

“Find what you’re looking for, officer?” I asked with way more huskiness and way less ire than I’d intended.

LUSCIOUS

By: Lexi Blake

MACON Excerpt

Macon watched the new girl. He couldn’t help himself. She was luscious. Like a chocolate soufflé. She would require very careful handling in order to bring her to fruition. One wrong move and a woman like that would fold, wilting or falling away, or simply telling him to fuck off.

He really didn’t want her to tell him to fuck off.

Ally. Allyson Jones. She had dark hair and a curvy figure that filled out her black slacks and white dress shirt in a way no one else on the waitstaff managed. She bent over, collecting the menus. That was the singular juiciest backside he’d ever seen. It was fucking spectacular, and he could feel his cock hardening.

It was not helpful to his current work situation, but he still couldn’t force his eyes to move. It was like they were laser focused on that lush ass.

He moved the pastry blender over and over, forcing the ingredients to mix into something new. Butter, flour, sugar, shortening, salt, and ice water. His perfect piecrust. Simple and yet so complex since he’d learned it required something beyond merely following the recipe. There was a harmony required most people never figured out, a certain Zen that came with giving over to the dish, allowing it to be what it would.

“Don’t let that sit too long.” Timothy Gage looked down his patrician nose at the bowl. “We have reservations for a hundred tonight. If that crust isn’t perfect, I’ll see you go back to washing dishes.”

Macon took a deep breath and forced himself not to correct his obnoxiously pretentious boss. He’d never washed dishes. When he’d been hired at Top, he’d been brought in as a garde-manger, prepping salads and helping with small plates. That had lasted two weeks. Then one day the chef’s brother had walked in. Ian Taggart was a massive slab of muscle with a taste for lemons. Timothy didn’t do requests. He was an artiste, or at least that’s what he called himself. He was mostly an asshole who took himself way too seriously. Sean Taggart, the man who owned Top, had tried to talk his brother into being reasonable. Macon had quickly made a lemon pudding.

He’d moved from salads to assistant pastry chef that day, and he was also Big Tag’s hookup. The big guy’s wife had been pregnant at the time and mad about coconut. He’d made coconut cookies, cream pies, and cakes for the lovely Charlotte.

It was good to be needed. It was good to make something that made someone else happy.

“That is one hot piece of ass.” Timothy leaned against the wall, his eyes on Ally.

There were times he really didn’t like the man. All the time, really. He was full of himself, but he was also trained by some super-fancy school in Paris. Sean had introduced him as a big deal and explained that Macon could learn a lot from him. So far he’d really learned that Timothy liked to duck work and take all the credit, and he drank on the job.

Ally looked up and her dark eyes caught on his. He hoped he wasn’t staring like a crazy stalker guy, but it was hard to look away. She smiled and joked and he could still feel the aura of loss that surrounded her. He wanted to know what made her seem so sad at times, like there was a wall between her and the world. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need that wall. It was a stupid idea. He couldn’t take care of himself much less anyone else, so he’d kept his distance.

Still, since the moment she’d walked through the doors, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

ALLY EXCERPT

Ally dropped off the new menus. They changed nightly because Sean Taggart liked to use fresh ingredients. Top was farm to table. He negotiated with local farms for whatever he could, and as far as Ally could tell he was one hell of a chef. She’d been raised on whatever her mom had a coupon for, but she’d discovered she really liked sea bass and polenta, and god she could eat risotto all day.

And Macon’s pastries. Oh, Timothy the Ass took credit, but she watched Macon work. Macon made the fluffiest crust, the richest chocolate mousse.

He was also the damn dreamiest man she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t a woman who used the word dreamiest lightly.

In the few weeks she’d worked at Top, she would swear she’d gained ten pounds. After service was over, staff got to eat. She’d had some of the best food of her life here. She’d also had some really good times. She’d thought she only ever fit in with her mom and Ronnie, but this place was starting to feel like home.

“Hey, you. I heard we’re going to Deep Ellum after work tonight.” Deena took the menus and placed them in the basket by the hostess station. She was an infinitely competent woman in her early thirties, with a ready smile and a warm personality. She kept the front of house running like clockwork. “Tell me you’re coming with us. We need to dance.”

Oddly, the idea of going clubbing held no appeal. She was young and single and had no ties to anyone, and yet all she wanted to do was have a place to go to with a TV and a warm bed and a Macon Miles to cuddle up against.

Damn it. She couldn’t think that way. Macon was the target. Macon was the only one who could tell her what really happened to her brother. The report didn’t make sense. She knew the Army could cover up deaths, and she was sure that was what happened with Ronnie.

Had Macon killed her brother? Somehow she didn’t think so. She certainly didn’t want to believe it. She’d walked into Top with the full intention of confronting him. She’d meant to sit down with Macon and force him to talk to her. Then she’d actually seen him. When she’d knocked on the back door, he’d opened it. He’d wiped his hands on his apron and given her the sweetest smile she’d ever seen, and when he’d asked what she needed her brain and her mouth hadn’t worked at all in sync. She’d stumbled and told him she was looking for a job, and she’d started waiting tables that night.

How would he feel if he knew she had an ulterior motive? She promised herself every single night that she was going to tell him the truth, and every night she put it off. Now she was in too deep. She was caught in a trap of her own making.

WAITING FOR YOU (Sparks in Texas)

Mari Carr

Sydney stood next to Gran, who was flanked by Julian on the right. The three of them were standing at the international arrivals gate, grinning like fools as they held the banner Sydney had made. Chas’ flight had landed and her heart was racing a million miles an hour. She’d seen him just a few months earlier over the holidays. They’d exchanged small gifts and consumed a bottle of eggnog together. Chas had even told her a little bit about two friends he’d lost in combat, the story breaking her heart.

Chas had ended up sleeping on her couch that night, while she’d tossed and turned in her bedroom, fighting the urge to go out and comfort him. However, there had been something in his eyes—some dark, unfamiliar sadness—that had stopped her, that had told her to keep her distance.

Several more people walked through the gate. Sydney watched as relatives reunited with hugs, laughter and sometimes tears. She loved coming to the airport, loved the energy and the atmosphere, the hustle and bustle. It was a hotbed of emotions unlike any other place.

Gran captured her attention with a nudge of the elbow. “There he is.”

Chas strolled through the doors in jeans and a t-shirt. It would seem so weird to see him dressed in civilian clothing rather than his fatigues from now on, and she wondered if he’d give up the crew cut he’d kept for so many years and return to the longer style of his youth. He looked around the area, searching for them. Sydney smiled and waved when his eyes met hers.

Chas walked faster then, laughing when he read their banner. Sydney took it from Julian and Gran, stepping back so that Chas could greet his family.

She was shocked when he bypassed both of them and walked right up to her. He tugged the banner out of her hands and dropped it to the floor a split second before he grabbed her in his embrace and kissed her.

His mouth was demanding, forcing her lips apart so he could stroke her tongue with his. Sydney fought off a wave of dizziness and disbelief. Even a bit of embarrassment when she recalled his grandmother was standing less than five feet away from them. She put her hands on his shoulders, intent on pushing him away, but Chas only gripped her tighter, one of his hands rising to cup the back of her neck, his fingers lightly stroking the sensitive skin there.

She was a goner. Sydney stopped giving a shit who was there and what they were seeing. Chas was home. And he was kissing her.

Twelve years melted away into a haze of nothingness. He was home. Finally.

PERFECTLY RECKLESS

By Megan Hart

Maura pushed up on her elbow to look down at him. There might come a time when she was no longer overcome with love at the sight of his face, or when her love might become something soft and faded and worn. But to stop loving him? Impossible.

“How would I live,” she murmured, “without my Ian?”

Tenderly, she stroked the hair from his forehead and kissed his mouth. He woke with a start, looking guilty. Maura sat, thinking she should start looking for her clothes. She was getting a chill.

Ian sat, too, saying nothing as she pulled on her panties and bra, then her t-shirt. She watched him carefully as she turned her jeans right-side out, but didn’t put them on. She knelt beside him.

“Ian?”

“It’s getting late,” he said. “We should go to bed.”

She’d never been in his bedroom, though she’d seen it often enough in their video chats. The easy compatibility they’d shared while making dinner and the synchronicity of their lovemaking stalled here. Ian pulled a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from a drawer to give her.

“You can use the bathroom first,” he offered. “Umm…I have an extra toothbrush for you.”

In bed, she curled on her side, facing out. Ian lay on his back beside her. The soft, slow rasp of his breathing soothed her, but she couldn’t sleep. All this time, and they’d only slept together once. She didn’t know if he liked to be cuddled or preferred his space; she didn’t know if he would mind if she tossed and turned for a few minutes while she tried to get comfortable with a pillow she wasn’t used to.

“Are you sleeping?” His whisper eased over her in the darkness, so quiet it made her smile because he was clearly trying not to wake her, if she was.

“No.”

The bed shook as he moved closer to her, pulling her against him. His breath warmed her neck. His hand fit naturally just below her breasts.

“It will be okay, Ian,” Maura said sleepily, relaxing against him. “Everything will be okay.”

But it wasn’t. She fell asleep with his arms around her and woke when he moved away from her. When he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, she sat up too.

“Don’t do this,” she said. The only light came from the moon shining through the window. It made him a shadow, indistinguishable from all the others except that he moved and the others stayed still. “Go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

She scooted closer to him. He didn’t cringe from her touch when she curved her body around his and put her chin on his shoulder. She put her arms loosely around him, linking her fingers at his chest. She gave him her warmth and the beat of her heart. According to George Orwell in 1984, if you loved someone, that’s what you gave him even when you had nothing else. Love.

Maura gave Ian her love, and somehow, it wasn’t enough.

“It’s just that…I’d rather it end now than later.”

Maura sighed, weary, but giving him the room to say what he needed to say. “Why?”

“So I can be ready for it.”

“Are you ready for it?” She asked a little too harshly. “Is that what you want, Ian? For me to go, now. For this all to just…end?”

“Before it leaves scars,” Ian said in a low voice.

Maura snorted softly against him and kissed the back of his neck. “Too late, sweetheart. Way too late for that.”

He half-turned. He could’ve kissed her mouth, had he twisted just a little more, but she didn’t press forward. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. That’s all. I just don’t think I can do it.”

You’re doing it, she wanted to say. You’ve already done it.

Instead, she withdrew from him. Quietly, without fanfare, she gathered her clothes and stripped out of his. She dressed and pulled her hair up again. Ian sat on the bed, watching her, though how much he could see in the dark she didn’t know. When she’d finished, Maura went to him. She took his face in her hands and tipped it up so he had to look at her. There was enough light for that, at least.

“I love you,” she told him. “But you’re right. Eventually, that leaf has to let go.”

“I’m sorry, Maura.”

“Me too.” She thought about kissing him, this her last chance, and couldn’t bring herself to do more than brush her lips on his. Straightening, she let go of him. “I’ll let myself out.”

“I’ll walk you –”

“No,” she told him, too sharply. Too fierce. “I don’t want you to.”

She couldn’t let him. She would break down and he would see it, and she’d be ashamed. Or worse, she would cling to him, weeping and begging. She would lose herself utterly in this grief already threatening to claw its way up her throat and out her mouth in wails and cries.

No. She would walk herself to the door and let herself out, and she would get in her car and drive herself home. There she might break down, in the safety of her own shower where she could scream and pound her fists. But not here.

In his kitchen though, as she gathered her keys, Maura paused to write a note. Simple. One sentence. She didn’t sign her name.

She left it on the table, and she left him.

RED HOT NIGHTS

By: Karen Erickson

“Hmm, what are you wearing?”

Reagan smiled, slipping a bracelet onto her wrist before she lifted her gaze to the bathroom mirror. She watched as Declan approached and stopped just behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hands resting lightly on her stomach as his gaze met hers in the reflection. “You like my dress?”

“I love it.” He stepped away from her, his hands resting on her hips, his mouth falling into a frown as he looked at her back. “But it’s practically indecent.”

“Isn’t it great? Sexy and demure in the front, totally naughty in the back.” She added a few more bracelets to her wrist and turned, sad when Declan’s hands fell from her hips. She saw the scowl on his handsome face, his eyebrows drawn together as he studied her, and she just knew… “You don’t like it.”

He tilted his head, still contemplating her—and the dress. It was white, with a soft floral print and a just-above-the-knee-length skirt that floated around her legs when she moved. The top tied around her neck in a halter style that covered her entire chest, not a hint of cleavage in sight.

But like she said to her boyfriend, Declan Carter—the hottest young actor today, making a terrific comeback with the newest, and most serious, film he’d ever made—it was the back that made the dress turn sexy. It dipped low, past her waist, exposing her shoulders and back completely. She loved it.

From the expression on his face alone, it looked like Declan hated it.

“I do like it,” he finally said. “Turn around again.”

She did as he asked, moving slowly, wanting him to get a good look it. Tonight was important to him—and her. His movie was premiering and she wanted to look pretty. Sophisticated. Not like the emergency room nurse she normally was, in her turquoise-green scrubs, hair scraped back into a no-nonsense ponytail, not a lick of makeup on her face beyond the occasional lip balm she slicked on when she thought of it.

Tonight, she went all out, just for Declan. Got her hair trimmed and blown out at an exclusive salon in Beverly Hills that Declan’s assistant James—who also happened to be her friend and the one who got them together in the first place—recommended to her. Was wearing a designer gown, again picked out by both her and James, who had better taste than she did. Talk about a surreal shopping trip. The gowns were all brought to her at Declan’s house and she didn’t have to make a purchase. The designers actually wanted her to wear them for the exposure—being seen on Declan Carter’s arm had its perks, most definitely.

She’d been pampered for the rest of the afternoon, again at Declan’s house. The cosmetics were applied by a professional makeup artist. Jewelry picked out to complement the dress and the highest stilettos Reagan could muster. She thought she looked pretty damn good.

Though she knew she had to up her game—and in a big way—if she was going to accompany her boyfriend to his freaking movie premiere. Famous people would be in attendance tonight, including the actors Declan made the movie with. Other stars and celebrities would be there too, all of them glitzed up beyond belief, because that was their job.

Reagan could never admit she was afraid she couldn’t hold her own among the young and gorgeous and famous. She was a regular person, not a movie star. Those types lived and breathed looking good for the camera. They worked out three hours a day, had personal chefs make them meals with hardly any calories, and they always wore the trendiest clothes and carried the most expensive bags.

She, on the other hand, had a small Coach purse her mom gave her for graduating nursing school. Mom claimed she picked it up at the factory outlet, and Reagan loved it, but it was no Christian Dior bag worth five thousand dollars.

Because yep, Declan’s stylist owned a five-thousand-dollar Dior bag which Reagan thought was both ridiculous and totally impractical. Though secretly, she coveted that bag. It was beautiful. And almost six months worth of rental payments, so she should let that dream die.

“You’re so exposed,” Declan finally said, worry clouding his eyes. “If it was just you and I going out, that would be one thing, but…”

“Do I look that bad?” she interrupted, feeling awful. Maybe she should change. But she had no other options. Nothing as gorgeous as the dress she wore, and certainly nothing designer. Maybe she could call Sandi. The stylist had helped her so much, and she knew Sandi would work her hardest to come up with another option. She probably had an entire rack at her studio, or even better, stashed in the trunk of her car for emergencies just like this.

“You don’t look bad.” Declan pulled her to him, his hands going to her lower back, his warm fingers seeming to brand her bare skin. She shivered at his touch. “You look amazing. My problem is, I don’t want every asshole at that premiere ogling my hot girlfriend.”

She burst out laughing, relief flooding her. He was so brutally honest sometimes. It was one of her favorite qualities about him. “Are you saying you’re jealous?” she teased.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Extended Book Summaries

WANDERLUST

by Roni Loren

Restaurant critic Aubrey Bordelon’s wild streak died ten years ago when a terrible accident changed everything. Since that moment, Aubrey hasn’t nudged a toe in an errant direction. She excels at her job with the local magazine, plays southern debutante for her politico parents, and keeps her dance card clear of messy relationships. So when Aubrey’s boss asks her to fill in for the magazine’s high-profile music reporter, she’s up for the challenge. Compared to egomaniacal chefs, handling a few self-indulgent rockstars should be cake—even if the wicked grin of Wanderlust’s lead singer has her scruples sneaking toward the backstage door.

Lex Logan escapes to New Orleans as a last resort. His song-writing muse has disappeared on a bender. His band members are fighting like alcoholics over the last bottle of vodka. And everyone’s looking to him to play savior before the record label dumps them on their sorry asses. The last thing Lex needs is some haughty, albeit sexy, reporter documenting his downfall. He has to shake her off the story—fast. If she wants a peek into the rock ‘n’ roll life, then he’s going to give it to her. Unedited. But in his attempts to scare her away, Lex catches a glimpse of the passionate woman hiding behind the polished façade. And just one taste is enough to alter his plans from chasing her out of his life to coaxing her into his bed.

WAITING FOR YOU (Sparks in Texas)

By Mari Carr

How do you protect the woman you love…when the greatest danger is sleeping in her bed?

Sydney Sparks can’t remember a time when Chas wasn’t part of her life—from childhood playmates, to high-school sweethearts, to long-distance friends. Now, after twelve long years, Chas is leaving the Marines and coming home. Sydney’s thrilled to have him back on American soil, safe and sound, even if his return is doing funny things to her heart.

The second he stepped off the plane and locked gazes with Sydney, Chas refused to waste a minute more on their “just friends” status quo. Together again, it feels as if they were never apart, the love they’d shared as innocent teens now vastly more intense as adults—with a sexual hunger to match.

However, despite his newfound happiness, Chas can’t seem to shake the memories of his tours in the Middle East, of the firefights, the killing…the deaths of his friends. When the flashbacks grow stronger, Chas struggles to hide his increasing lack of control, terrified of losing everything he’d just regained—including Sydney.

INDECISION

By: Elisabeth Grace

Jackie Davenport will try anything once, especially in the bedroom. Anything except falling in love. She lives a carefree existence packed full of fun, but free from emotional entanglements and that’s just how she wants to keep it. When she meets the new police officer in town, she’s unable to deny the connection between them. His over confidence and bullish ways grate on her…still she can’t help but find herself falling into his bed AND falling for him.

Jamie McTavish is man enough to admit that he probably didn’t make the best first impression when he met the 911 Operator. That doesn’t mean there isn’t still sizzling sexual tension between them. He’s a man of action and he’s not content to sit on the sidelines until Jackie works out her issues. But trying to tame this tiger might be too big of a challenge for even him.

Giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

____________________________________________________________

SWEET TALK (10 All NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes)

Melody Anne, Violet Duke, Melissa Foster, Gina L. Maxwell, Linda Lael Miller, Brenda Novak, Sherryl Woods, Steena Holmes, Rosalind James, Molly O’Keefe, and Nancy Naigle, with Robyn Carr.

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo / Google Play

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SWEET DREAMS (13 All NEW Thrillers by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes)

Allison Brennan, Cynthia Eden, JT Ellison, Heather Graham, Liliana Hart, Alex Kava, CJ Lyons, Carla Neggers, Brenda Novak, Theresa Ragan, Erica Spindler, Jo Robertson, and Tiffany Snow, with Lee Child.

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo / Google Play

Blog Tour + Review: Say My Name by J. Kenner

Posted on 04/29/2015 by shellbellereads

Say My Name

Stark International Trilogy- Book 1

By J. Kenner

Synopsis

New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner kicks off a smoking hot, emotionally compelling new trilogy that returns to the world of her beloved Stark novels: Release Me, Claim Me, and Complete Me. Say My Name features Jackson Steele, a strong-willed man who goes after what he wants, and Sylvia Brooks, a disciplined woman who’s hard to get—and exactly who Jackson needs.

I never let anyone get too close—but he’s the only man who’s ever made me feel alive.

Meeting Jackson Steele was a shock to my senses. Confident and commanding, he could take charge of any room . . . or any woman. And Jackson wanted me. The mere sight of him took my breath away, and his touch made me break all my rules.

Our bond was immediate, our passion untamed. I wanted to surrender completely to his kiss, but I couldn’t risk his knowing the truth about my past. Yet Jackson carried secrets too, and in our desire we found our escape, pushing our boundaries as far as they could go.

Learning to trust is never easy. In my mind, I knew I should run. But in my heart, I never felt a fire this strong—and it could either save me or scorch me forever.

Say My Name is intended for mature audiences.

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo / Google Play

Michel’s Review

Say My Name by J. Kenner is a spinoff of the Stark Trilogy featuring Damien Stark’s PA, Sylvia Brooks.

Sylvia has always been interested in real estate. When an opportunity to purchase an island off the California coast becomes available, she presents it to her boss, Damien Stark. Stark tells her to run with it and makes her head of the project. The project would include purchasing the island and developing it into an exclusive family resort. Sylvia has worked her tail off and wants this project more than anything. That includes finding the right investors, the right architect, the right kind of promotions, and all the t’s crossed & i’s dotted. Everything seems to be falling into place until the architect pulls out of the project because of a zen moment. If she does not find the perfect architect for this project it will all go down the drain. She has one architect in mind but it is almost impossible to obtain him on this project. Jackson Steele hates the Stark Industry. He hates Damien Stark. He refuses to work with them. There is a bigger reason why he won’t take the project. Sylvia.

Sylvia and Jackson have a past that ended on a bad note five years ago. She asked him to walk away from her and never look back. Jackson Steele is a man of his word and did what Sylvia asked of him. He walked away with a million regrets and a heart full of hurt. Five years later, the only thing he wants from Sylvia is to see her suffer the way he did after he walked away.

Sylvia will do everything in her power to get Jackson Steele on board with the project. She will swallow her pride. She will surrender her body. The one thing she will not do is lose herself to Jackson Steele. She will not let him know the secrets from her past that made her the woman she is today. Can she keep Jackson distant enough not to destroy her heart?

Jackson and Sylvia both have secrets. They both are harboring some bad memories of the past. Their secrets could destroy each other as well as the new project. The one thing they are learning is that five years didn’t make one difference as far as their hearts are concerned. Maybe it’s time to reveal the secrets and move forward.

Jackson and Sylvia are coming to solutions that will work for both of them. Solutions that will also make the project a success. Someone knows their secrets. Someone is out to destroy the Stark Resort project. Who is it and how far will they go? Cliffhanger!

The second book in the Stark International Trilogy, On My Knees, will release June 23, 2015. I am looking forward to this sensual intrically woven suspense trilogy.

Read Say My Name by J. Kenner. It will not disappoint!

Author Bio:

J. Kenner spent more than ten years as a litigator in Southern California and Central Texas, using her rare free time to indulge her passion for writing. California born, she now lives—and writes—in Texas, with her husband and daughters.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

Happy Release: Twisted by Cynthia Eden – The Lost Series – Book 2

Posted on 04/28/2015 by shellbellereads

Twisted

(Lost Series, #2)
by Cynthia Eden

Blurb:

In the second seductive LOST novel from New York Times bestselling author Cynthia Eden, an obsessed Last Option Search Team agent goes looking for trouble—and finds her in the Big Easy.

Dean Bannon comes to New Orleans for one reason only: to track down a missing sixteen-year-old girl. That’s before he meets the drop-dead gorgeous con artist who makes him want to lose his legendary control.

With her past, Emma Castille doesn’t claim to be psychic. She just notices things other people don’t. Like the fear in a runaway’s eyes—or the pain in an ex-FBI agent’s heart. Her chemistry with Dean is blistering, but Emma follows her passion . . . not someone else’s orders.

Then a madman breaks into Emma’s home and leaves a twisted message: You’re next. Now Dean refuses to let her out of his sight until he pries every last secret from her full, sexy lips. And suddenly Emma’s aching to give him everything he wants.

Available for purchase at

Excerpt

“You’re not psychic.”

Were they back to that?

She put her hands in her lap. Emma didn’t believe in making nervous gestures. She didn’t believe in giving away anything at all with her body language.

“What you are …” Ah, now he did smile. Her father would have called it a shit-eating grin. The more PC term was probably a Cheshire cat smile. Whatever the name, that smile annoyed her. “What you are, Ms. Castille … is a criminal. A fraud.”

Maybe she should grab her chest and dramatically gasp. She didn’t. “Wonderful for you,” Emma said. “You pulled up a background report one me.” She let her eyes widen a bit. “It’s amazing just what one can find if a person knows how to use a search engine.”

A furrow appeared between his eyes.

“How about I say what … you are?” Emma asked him. “A washed-up FBI agent who snapped on the job. You held your control tight every single day, but the bad guys—they just didn’t stop, did they? You hunted them, you stopped them, and more appeared. While you were fighting the system, they kept coming, and the bodies kept piling up on your watch.”

He shot right back to his feet. The folding chair slammed down behind him.

“You and your father bilked desperate people,” he accused. “You told them you were psychic, that you could help find their missing children. And you—”

“We found them.” Two girls who’d vanished. They’d found them. “We just didn’t get to them in time.” And she would not go back to that place.

She motioned toward Manuel. He knew the signal meant he could take over her booth. There was no way, no way, that she was going to stay there with that prick while he slammed the most painful moments from her past in Emma’s face.

Manuel, pale, tattooed, with piercings in his lips and eyebrows, quickly claimed her spot.

Emma jumped to her feet. Muttered her thanks, and fled right past the guy she was starting to think of as Agent Jackass.

She pushed through the crowd. Wasn’t there always a crowd in Jackson Square? And that was why she loved the place. It was so easy to vanish in a crowd. To be anyone.

The crowd closed around her.

To be no one at all.

She hurried around the back of the cathedral. She knew the streets so well. Her home was close by. Emma would get inside and forget Agent Jackass.

I’m being followed.

Emma stilled at the intersection. A horse-drawn carriage rolled by her. Voices called out.

And he touched her.

Emma didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. She looked down at the hand on her shoulder. “When a woman runs away from you, that means you need to stay the hell away from her.”

His hold tightened on her. “You and I aren’t done.”

She looked up at his face. Had she really thought the man was handsome? Annoying, that was all Dean Bannon was.

“I need to find that girl, and you’re the only lead I have so far.”

“Then you’re not a very good investigator.”

The Lost Series

Broken

Lost Series – Book 1

By Cynthia Eden

Synopsis

The first novel in New York Times bestselling author Cynthia Eden’s sizzling LOST series introduces the Last Option Search Team, an elite unit that must protect the only surviving victim of a serial killer.

Ex-SEAL and LOST founder Gabe Spencer is accustomed to the unusual in his job. But when knockout Eve Gray steps into his office, he’s rattled. For the mysterious woman is a dead ringer for the heiress thought to be the latest prey of the serial killer who goes by the name Lady Killer.

When Eve awoke in an Atlanta hospital, her past was a blank slate. Then she recognized her own face in the newspaper and vowed to learn the truth. Determined to confront the nightmares hidden in her mind, she never expects to find a partner in Gabe.

As Gabe and Eve work together, their explosive attraction becomes irresistible. Gabe knows that his desire for Eve is growing too strong, bordering on a dangerous obsession, but nothing pulls him away from her. And when another Eve lookalike disappears, Gabe vows to protect Eve at all costs. While Eve may have forgotten the killer in her past, it’s clear he hasn’t forgotten her.

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

About the Author

USA Today Best-selling author Cynthia Eden has written over twenty-five novels and novellas. She was named as a 2013 RITA^® finalist for her paranormal romance, ANGEL IN CHAINS, and, in 2011, Cynthia Eden was a RITA finalist for her romantic suspense, DEADLY FEAR.

Cynthia is a southern girl who loves horror movies, chocolate, and happy endings. She has always wanted to write (don’t most authors say that?), and particularly enjoys creating stories about monsters–vampires, werewolves, and even the real-life monsters that populate her romantic suspense stories.

Cynthia’s foreign sales for her books include translations to Japan, Germany, Thailand, Greece, and Brazil.

(Back in the day…) Cynthia graduated summa cum laude from the University of South Alabama where she studied Sociology (because people interest her) and Communication (because she likes to write about said people). Cynthia has worked as a college admissions counselor, a teacher, and as an editor. But now, Cynthia is thrilled to be spending her days making up stories.

Presented By

Happy Release: Caress of Pleasure by J. Kenner – 1001 Dark Nights

Posted on 04/28/2015 by shellbellereads

CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner is available today! Dante is waiting…

Synopsis

I’d thought that he was mine, the dark, arresting man who commanded not only my body but my heart. Dante had swept into my life, and I’d succumbed to the burn of passion in his arms.

I’d believed we had a love that would last forever, but he’d shattered my dreams and broken me into pieces when he’d walked away, taking a piece of my soul with him.

Now he has come back seeking my help, and though I try to keep my distance and protect my heart, I cannot deny that the fire between us burns hotter than ever. And I cannot help but fear that this time our passion will reduce us both to ashes.

Amazon | Amazon UK

Excerpt

I fell in love with him once—and I’m honestly not sure that I ever fell out of love.

But I do know one thing for sure—Dante Storm is dangerous to my heart. And whatever we started just now is something that we can’t finish.

I meet his eyes and am about to say just that when he shakes his head. “No. Don’t say it. You don’t need to say it.”

“What?”

“That we can’t do it again.”

“We can’t.”

“I know.”

I stand in silence. I know why I can’t; it’s because he will break my heart.

But I don’t know why he doesn’t want me. I only know that he doesn’t. I only know that he walked away once, and that he has already told me he will walk away again.

That should be enough, but then I have to go and open my mouth. I have to ask— “Why? Why did you leave?”

For a minute, I don’t think that he’s going to answer. But he surprises me by saying, “Because I was looking at forever.”

“And you don’t think I was, too?” I’m baffled. With Dante, forever was my mantra.

He looks at me, his eyes so sad I want to cry. “No,” he says, “I know you weren’t.”

I start to protest, but he just shakes his head, like a dog shaking off water. “Let’s go transfer your money.”

“No,” I say, standing firm.

He cocks his head, then winces. “We shouldn’t have done this. It won’t happen again. But please don’t back out. I really need your help. I can’t tell you how urgent this is.”

“I’ll help,” I say. “But I don’t want your money. And I don’t want sex.” That’s not entirely true. I want it; I don’t think I can handle it.

“Then why?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe because I loved you once upon a time.”

Maybe because I still do.

____________________

Author Bio:

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Teaser Tuesday: Fair Game by Monica Murphy – Rule Series – Book 1

Posted on 04/28/2015 by shellbellereads

ONE WEEK GIRLFRIEND fans…you are going to LOVE this new series by Monica Murphy! Check out the covers and the FAIR GAME excerpt below!

Fair Game

The Rule Series – Book 1

Release Date: May 12, 2015

By Monica Murphy

Synopsis

FAIR GAME (The Rules Series, Book 1) May 12, 2015

Bad enough Jade Frost’s boyfriend drags her to a boring poker game. Even worse that he actually threw her into the betting pot during an intense round…and lost. Talk about the perfect excuse for Jade to make him her ex-boyfriend.

Now she supposedly belongs to the ultra rich, extremely gorgeous Shep Prescott. He could have anything he wants yet he seems to be in hot pursuit of her. No matter how rude, how snarky, how impossible she acts, it doesn’t stop him. More like her horrible behavior seems to make him want her more.

When she finds herself starting to fall for him, Jade’s confused. There’s more to Shep than the carefree rich charmer he portrays. He has secrets. And she wants to discover them, no matter how ugly they might be…

Excerpt

“What are you doing?” she asks, sounding the tiniest bit breathless.

“Making sure you’re not injured,” I answer, proud of how under control I sound. Inside, I’m chaos. My heart is thumping hard against my chest and my breathing’s accelerated. I grip her knee, and realize my hand is fucking shaking.

“I think you’re trying to get your hand up my skirt.” Leave it to Bitch Face to call me out. I can’t help but find her straightforwardness attractive. No girl is ever straightforward with me. They’re always coy. Playing games and flirting and never asking for what they really want. They always defer to me.

After awhile, that gets pretty damn boring.

“Maybe I am,” I say, moving my hand to rest on top of her knee.

Her lips curve into the smallest smile and seeing it feels like a victory. As if I’ve just won an extra difficult battle and that tiny curve of her lush lips is my prize. “You’re pretty determined, aren’t you?”

She’s not pushing me away. I need to take this moment. Seize this fucking moment and make it mine. Make her mine. At least for tonight. Her scent is making my head spin and just touching her knee has got me sporting wood. “I’m always determined.”

“Determined to piss me off?”

I chuckle and her smile grows. “Am I doing a good job?”

“You’re an expert at making me mad.”

“I think we’re having a moment,” I tell her. “A bonding moment.”

She looks the slightest bit horrified. “No. Way. That is the last thing I want to do.”

I raise my eyebrows, let my hand slide up a bare inch more. Then another. I’m so close to getting under that skirt, it’s not even funny. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“You don’t like me either. You call me Bitch Face.”

“You introduced yourself to me as Bitch Face.”

She tilts her head, all that wavy red hair tumbling over her shoulder. My fingers itch to touch it. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I thought it was an unusual name…” I let my voice drift and she smiles once more.

“Says the man with an unusual name.”

“I told you it’s an old family name.”

“As a last name, not as a first.” She makes a little face. “It’s not very sexy.”

“You don’t think?” Interesting.

“I can’t imagine shouting out your name in the throes of passion.” Her cheeks go the faintest pink. That she’s even thinking like this gives me a secret thrill.

Forbidden. Unknown. This is the last girl I should consider getting naked with.

“Throes of passion?” I ask. “Someone’s been reading too many romance novels.”

“You know what I mean.” She waves a hand, dismissing her words.

“I don’t.” I pull the innocent act, which she isn’t falling for but it’s still fun. “What are you talking about exactly?”

“You’re not going to make me explain, are you?”

“I would love for you to explain. Or maybe I should help you.” I crawl my fingers up her thigh, playing with the frayed hem of her denim skirt. “Are you talking about…having sex?”

She nods, her cheeks blazing up. Hmm, she’s extra pretty when she blushes.

“And that moment…when we’re fucking…and you’re so damn close.” I lean in and inhale deep, my eyes almost falling shut as I absorb her scent, her warmth and that flush in her cheeks, the way her breathing quickens. “So fucking close as I push deep inside you. You don’t think it would be sexy to yell out my name just as I make you come?”

“N-no.” She shakes her head, that single word coming out as a squeak.

“Really.” I give in and settle my cheek next to hers, nuzzle her ear with my nose before I whisper, “Because by the time I have you coming, I’m fairly certain you’ll be crying out my name and begging me please.”

“You’re a real arrogant prick, aren’t you?”

I pull back from her the slightest bit, a little shocked. The girl doesn’t mince words. “Merely confident in my abilities.” I cup the back of her head, thread my fingers in the silky soft waves of her hair. I’d love to wrap her hair around my fist and tug her head back right before I kiss her…

“Proud of your manwhore status?”

“I can’t help it if the ladies flock to me.”

She rests her hand on my chest and gives me a gentle shove. “I’m not flocking to you.”

“Even after all that talk about coming and with my hand up your skirt?”

Jade looks down with a sharp gasp, dropping her hand to mine and shoving it out from beneath her skirt. “What are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious.” When she says nothing, only glares at me, I continue. “I was going to kiss you and hopefully get you off with my fingers.”

Her mouth drops open. Instead of looking aroused, she looks…pissed. Vaguely horrified. “You’re disgusting.”

I lean back. Move way, way back though I’m not getting off the bed. Not yet. I still have a chance.

Or then again, maybe I don’t.

In The Dark

The Rule Series – Book 2

Release Date: August 25, 2015

By Monica Murphy

Synopsis

IN THE DARK (Book 2) August 25, 2015

Stuck spending the summer with his screwed up family, Gabriel Walker is bored out of his mind and looking for an adventure. And he seems to find it with the hot girl who lives next door. The attraction between them is instant. Electric. Soon they’re spending every stolen minute together. Talk about the perfect summer fling…

Lucy isn’t what she seems. She doesn’t live next door—she’s the maid who’s been hired to house sit for the summer while the family goes on a worldwide vacation. If Gabe wants to believe she’s a spoiled rich girl looking for some fun, she can go along with that. After the summer, she’ll never see him again.

They don’t count on running into each other at college. Now Lucy must keep up the pretense of being a rich girl—and it’s exhausting. She knows she’s falling in love with Gabe and she’s scared he feels the same. Will he still care about her when he discovers the truth?

Slow Play

The Rule Series – Book 3

Release Date: November 3, 2015

By Monica Murphy

Synopsis

SLOW PLAY (Book 3) November 3, 2015

Newly broke girl Alexandria Asher just wants to live a normal life. After her parents are sent to prison on embezzlement charges, she enrolls in college under her mother’s maiden name and tries her best to pretend she’s someone else.

Tristan Chadwick is everything Alex is trying to avoid. A seemingly egotistical, lazy, rich jerk, she dumps her beer on his head when he comes on to her one night at a party. This only spurs Tristan into action. He loves nothing more than a challenge. And the beautiful Alex is exactly the type of challenge that intrigues him.

Despite her reluctance, Alex finds herself quickly involved with Tristan. Underneath that playboy exterior is a good guy, a sweet and sexy guy who she is undoubtedly falling for. What they both don’t realize is the actions of Alex’s parents are the reason for so much tragedy in Tristan’s family. And when Tristan discovers who Alex and her family really is, can he forgive and forget?
______________________________________________________________________________

I write books. I have the best job ever. New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Writer of new adult contemporary romance-ish stuff. Published with Avon and Bantam. Mom and wife. Native Californian.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Taking What’s His by Diane Alberts – Shillings Agency Series – Book 4

Posted on 04/28/2015 by shellbellereads

Taking What’s His

Shillings Agency Series – Book 4

By Diane Alberts

Bestselling Author Jen McLaughlin writing as Diane Alberts

Synopsis

A sexy category romance from Entangled’s Brazen imprint…

Some lines are meant to be crossed…

One explosive device was all it took to turn Holt Cunningham from ass-kicking Marine to IT technician. Hell, he’s still not over it. So when the cute little strawberry blonde at the bar asks him to kiss her, Holt can’t resist the temptation of a sexy distraction. Before he knows it, she’s blown his mind…and then skipped out the next morning.

Lydia Thomas never expected things with Holt to go quite that far, but oh, it was worth it. After being far too good for way too long, she was ready to be bad. Except that there’s that tiny detail that Lydia kept to herself-Holt just spent the night doing naughty things…with his best friend’s little sister.

One night isn’t nearly enough. But with his friendship on the line, how far will Holt go in order to claim what’s his?

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Author Bio:

Diane Alberts is a multi-published, bestselling contemporary romance author with Entangled Publishing. She also writes New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling new adult books under the name Jen McLaughlin. She’s hit the Top 100 lists on Amazon and Barnes and Noble numerous times with numerous titles. She was mentioned in Forbes alongside E. L. James as one of the breakout independent authors to dominate the bestselling lists. Diane is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Diane has always been a dreamer with a vivid imagination, but it wasn’t until 2011 that she put her pen where her brain was, and became a published author. Since receiving her first contract offer, she has yet to stop writing. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, and a cat. Her goal is to write so many fantastic stories that even a non-romance reader will know her name.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

BLOG TOUR GIVEAWAY:
Win a $25 Gift Card to Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

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Blog Tour + Review + Giveaway: Deadly Obsession by Victoria Paige

Posted on 04/27/2015 by shellbellereads

Ella was his
weakness.

She could
shatter him into a million pieces.

And she was
the only glue that could put him back together again.

Title: Deadly Obsession

Author: Victoria Paige

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: April 16, 2015

Cover Designer: Robin Ludwig Design

Editor: Hot Tree Editing

*Warning. Romantic suspense with dark themes. Extremely obsessive and jealous hero. Strong sexual content and language. 18 years+

The first time Jake sees Ella he is struck by her beauty.

He becomes obsessed.

His obsession becomes a deadly affair.

You see, Ella belongs to someone else.

Someone determined to keep her … or kill her.

Only 99 cents during the tour!

Amazon US * Amazon UK * Amazon AU * Amazon CA

Kelley’s Review

Dark, Sexy, and Suspenseful..

Victoria Paige is an extremely talented author. She has become a one-click author for me. If she releases a book I will purchase it without hesitation. Deadly Obsession is a masterfully written suspenseful and dark thriller. This book had me on the edge of my seat wondering what was going to happen next.

Deadly Obsession starts out with a lot of sex in the very beginning you begin to wonder if Jake is just a sex crazed power-hungry millionaire and if this is just going to be another one of those stories…I can tell you it’s not like any other story I have read. Jake is originally attracted to Ella’s beauty and Ella is attracted to Jake’ rough exterior. She craves normalcy in her sexual encounters. Jake gives her what she needs without pain and she becomes just as addicted to him as he is to her.

This story is very dark. Ella is trained to be a sadist and is sent undercover by the FBI into a very dangerous situation where she seduces a man who has some very dark tastes when it comes to sex. Samuel Clayton is twisted and sick. You end up hating him so much that you cheer when Jake gets his hands on him. There is no rape involved in this story. I don’t think I could handle that but there is a lot of pain and twisted sexual scenarios. To top things off there is a serial killer on the lose that is obsessed with Ella because she is the only woman who Samuel would not share with him. The killer is a level 4 sadist and Samuel would share his women with this man and would not ask questions when they turned up missing as he himself feared him. The question is who is this mystery man Samuel calls him and can the FBI find him before he finds Ella.

Get ready for a twisted and dark thriller that you soon will not forget.

You need to one-click this one while it is only $.99 cents. It is more than worth it.

Goodreads * Amazon * Facebook * Website * Twitter

I work as a freelance database administrator, and when I’m not geeking out, I write romantic suspense novels. I live in Richmond, Va–less than two hours away from Washington DC–so most of the settings of my books are in the nation’s capital–of course, I’m not averse to creating fictional towns and cities. 😉

When I’m not arguing with the alpha male characters in my head, I love to watch high-octane action movies.

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Release Day Blitz + Review : Binge by Jennifer Foor – Seven Year Itch Series – Book 1

Posted on 04/27/2015 by shellbellereads

Binge

Seven Year Itch Series – Book 1

By Jennifer Foor

Synopsis

Flynn & Aria Roberts have had plenty of ups and downs during their seven year marriage. Everyone warned them not to wed so young – that they’d be missing out on the key years when people grow from young adults to mature individuals.

The only thing holding them together now is their

love for each other, and even that is becoming questionable.

To save the marriage, and the family they’ve already started, Flynn and Aria come up with an unconventional solution to help them find what’s missing in their relationship.

The only problem is doing so involves rediscovering themselves completely, even if it requires them to be unfaithful.

Can a marriage survive

when vows are broken, or will chance encounters prove they’ve been missing out all-along?

Fulfill your deepest Desires

Give in to Temptation

Buy: Amazon / B & N

I hated the idea of spending the next hour with a therapist, bearing all of my concerns as if she could somehow relate enough to help me. What I loathed more was knowing that it was the first sunny day in two weeks, and the woman was relentless about closing the blinds during her sessions. It was as if she wanted her patients to be depressed so that they’d keep coming.

I’d gotten into a habit of nitpicking lately. I suppose it came from being so miserable. They say it loves company, misery that is, not that I was asking for friends to hang out with and compare notes on our failed experiences.

I peered down at my jeans and Chucks, feeling as if I should have cared more about my appearance, especially since this woman clearly went all out. It didn’t matter what the temperature was, Dr. Ellis was always in a skirt-suit. With her auburn hair full of curls, she sat with crossed legs and my file strewn over her lap. While the friendly doctor flicked her pen, pretending to listen to me, I stared effortlessly at the rapid speed it repelled. I wondered if it made little dots on the paper each time. Then I imagined it falling apart from being handled so roughly. I imagined the tiny spring shooting into her hair and becoming tangled the instant it made contact. Anything was better than admitting where I was and why I was there.

“How would you say your relationship with your husband has been in the past week?”

I rubbed my hands on the thighs of my jeans while proceeding to come up with a lie to make it seem as if we were making progress. “Fine, I guess. We haven’t killed each other.” I found my answer to be amusing, while she kept the same resting-bitch face.

“Since last week, how many times have you had intercourse?” She would ask me this. It was the reason I hated coming to these meetings. Every week she asked the same questions. I guess she assumed that one time I’d provide her with a different answer. This wasn’t going to be the epic appointment where I made progress, not after the week I’d had. Besides, who would want to know that I had frequent sex in bed alone, while imagining being tied up by a stranger, or blindfolded and seduced by someone who only set out to please me. Flynn was always there in my dreams, watching and envying what I wouldn’t let him have. It was like I was punishing him in my mind, while getting off to my little bullet vibrator in the bed we should be sharing together.

Flynn and I were supposed to be working on things. Instead, we were still in the same place as when we started this – headed for divorce.

“That would be a big fat zero.”

“I see,” she said while jotting down something. “Have either of you put forth an effort?”

I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees while rubbing my hands together. I suppose I should have held my posture like a proper lady, but my give-a-damn had been busted for years. “It’s kind of hard to try something when being in the same room together makes me want to strangle him, hypothetically of course. It’s also impossible when your husband sleeps on the couch, and trust me, you’d be the first to know if I was getting it from someone else, because I wouldn’t need to keep up this charade.”

“Charade? I would hardly call these sessions that. I’m here to get to the bottom of your problems and help you overcome them. You came to me for help. I know at times it seems worthless, but in order to change you’ll have to put forth an effort, which I’m not seeing from either of you. I’d hate for you to waste your time if this isn’t what you want, Aria.”

I hated the way this woman looked at me. She wasn’t fooling me with her professionalism. I knew she found Flynn attractive. She probably went home at night and turned on her vibrator to get off on pretending to fuck my husband, and apparently she wasn’t the only one. The older we got, the better looking he became. I wondered if she was waiting for me to admit we were through so she could make her move.

I grinded my teeth together to keep from spatting out something I’d regret later. Had we not promised each other that we’d try, I didn’t know where I’d be. With a daughter, it wasn’t feasible to go out and prey on single men for attention. Sure, I missed being touched. I longed to feel desired again, but I didn’t see it happening, so I kept my deepest thoughts buried where not even this doctor would be able to pry them out of me. If she only knew what I fantasized about when I was all alone she’d think I was a crazy voyeur nymphomaniac who didn’t deserve to be in a loving commitment to just one person. In my defense it wasn’t like I’d always dreamed of being with multiple partners, but when I had little experience aside from my husband, my curiosity got the best of me. Maybe if I didn’t feel like my body was scarred from stretch marks, I would be open to exploring different things with Flynn. I just felt ugly – ALL. THE. TIME. It was as if he was becoming more attractive while I was constantly aging. Why would he ever want to try to be turned on by me after seeing my vagina doubled in size during labor? I think he referred to it as the Cumberland Gap. And yes, that is exactly how he described it. “I want to feel beautiful about myself. I want to be appreciated. I want to know without a doubt that Flynn is making love to me and not imagining someone else. I want HIM to be the person who can fulfill my needs, leaving me feeling completely and utterly satisfied.” The last part wasn’t supposed to come out, but now I was becoming overemotional, letting my fears and frustrations dictate what flew out of my mouth.

“I think you’re not giving Flynn enough credit. It’s obvious your husband desires you. He’s said as much during our sessions. Perhaps your self-esteem struggles are keeping you from seeing that.”

Of course she’d blame me. If she only knew what it was like to see Flynn looking at other women, or to talk until I was blue in the face with no response from him. If she could prepare all of his meals only to have him refuse to come to the table to eat because he was watching something on television. If she could be on the end of the phone call when he was out with his friends instead of being at home with his daughter. Flynn was terrible with priorities. He came first in his mind, and we were just leftovers, hoping to have a millisecond of his precious time. They say marriage is a two-way commitment. What is it called when only one person gives one-hundred percent of their time and energy? That was my marriage. I gave, and he took. That was the gist of it. Flynn could construe his stories to this doctor as many times as he wanted, but the truth would never change.

The moment he left her office he went back to being a douche, a part time father, and a shitty excuse for a husband. “I agree that my body issues prevent me from feeling sexy enough to want to be intimate, but that’s not our only problem. Just because I’m not willing to seduce my husband, doesn’t mean I’m ready to throw in the towel.”

“Intimacy is an important factor in any marriage. I’m afraid if you’re unwilling to be physical with each other there’s nothing more I can do for you. It may sound absurd to someone in your situation, but you have to be willing to at least try to be with your husband. Part of being a marriage counselor is to help you get through this. I’ve met with both of you together, and now separately. While your husband shows empathy for your marriage, I get the sense that you no longer feel the same.”

If she only knew that he was full of shit when he met with her. Of course he’d lead her to believe he was this great guy who was suffering because his wife wouldn’t screw him. It only made me want to choke him more.

I played with my hands. This was our eighth session. Once a month we met with her separately. I was supposed to be making an effort, but it’s impossible when you don’t feel good enough about yourself. “It’s not that I don’t love Flynn. I do – that’s the only thing I’m sure of right now. We just can’t find a common ground. It’s hopeless. He doesn’t make me feel wanted, even when he’s trying to get laid. Why should I give in when I know it’s all an act. I want to feel needed. I want to see his eyes light up when I walk in the room. It’s the little things that are missing in our relationship. It’s like he’s gotten comfortable and forgotten that I also have desires. We’re not in this together anymore. I feel alone even when he’s near.”

She started aggressively writing something down on a separate pad of paper then ripped it, and reached across the wooden coffee table to hand it to me.

I looked down at it. “What’s this?” I half expected it to be the number of a furniture company where Flynn could purchase a new comfortable couch for his lazy ass to sleep better on. It was obvious she enjoyed his private sessions more than mine. All I did was complain about Flynn. It wasn’t getting me anywhere. My sessions were a joke. Flynn’s last two private appointments he’d come out acting all happy, as if he’d gotten head or possibly more. Ever since then, I’d been reluctant to even continue my sessions. At this point I couldn’t figure out what were misconceptions in my head, or actual reality. I was so messed up and didn’t know where to turn. Behind closed doors my husband was someone who never tried, yet when he spoke to other people everything was honky-dory. It made me resent him all the more.

Dr. Ellis’ reply wasn’t what I’d expected. It actually made me question if she’d been listening to me at all. “That is the address of a bed and breakfast near the beach. It’s run by a young couple. This time of year is pretty slow. If any part of you wants to save your marriage, I suggest you spend some one-on-one time together, out of your normal routine. You don’t have to go there, but go somewhere. Spend time communicating. The two of you need to get know one another again. You need to remember why you fell in love, and how to figure out how get it back. I can’t make the decision for you, or tell you what you should be feeling. I can only suggest a solution I think you’d both benefit from.”

“I’ve known him for years. In fact, I know him better than anyone,” I corrected her. I didn’t need a life lesson on Flynn. I also didn’t need to take a trip with him to get to know him better. What I needed was to go away alone and get my head on straight. What I wanted was to be desired by someone who didn’t ignore me on a daily basis.

She shook her head with a smirk across her face. It made me feel as if she were questioning my statement. The jealous side of me wanted to slap it right off. Then I had to rationalize about how I could be assuming things that weren’t even happening.

“That’s not what I’m referring to. Couples change. You can grow together, or in your case, because you were so young, apart. The only way to fix things is to start over, as if it were your first date.”

“What if I don’t want to date my husband?” I began to count how many times, while during a heated argument, I’d told Flynn if I had to do it all over again I’d never look in his direction.

“Just give my advice some thought. We’ll meet again next week, if you’re still interested in making this work. I have hopes that some quality time together could start repairing what’s been lost. You both need to relearn how to communicate with one another again. I know it seems tedious, but I can promise it’s not. You can never know too much about the person you’re married to. An open line of communication could do wonders for your self esteem issues as well.”

So what if I had problems with feeling beautiful. Didn’t every woman stand in the check-out line at the grocery and wish she could look like the model on the magazines? I was envious they could keep their figures after having children.

It wasn’t until I reached my car that I took in what Dr. Ellis suggested, and then I wondered if I was even willing to give it a go. If I had a choice, would I do it all over again? This question was something I thought I’d known the answer to, yet the idea of giving up on Flynn was painful. As much as I couldn’t stand how he was, a part of me assumed that without him I’d have nothing. Then there was the lingering fact that I still loved the man, even with all his flaws.

My drive home brought everything back into perspective. I started imagining our failures. Yes, we’d made a beautiful little girl, but was it worth it to stay together for her? I knew some couples did, though I couldn’t fathom it myself. I was at a point where I hated Flynn. My love for him still existed, but I despised the person he’d become; the one that popped open a beer after work every night leaving his dirty boots on and track mud all over the floor I’d just vacuumed. The same man who didn’t care about his actions or how they affected other people. The person who stopped caring about me and everything else that mattered, because he was too consumed in himself to notice.

Everyone told us we were fools. They said no two people should marry as young as we were; that it was doomed to fail, because we were kids ourselves. In so many ways I wished we would have listened. Had I known then what an up road battle into a clusterfuck of a life it would turn out to be, perhaps we could have saved a lot of people grief, and probably money.

It’s amazing how as little girls we dream of finding our Prince Charming and to live happily ever after.

It doesn’t take a genius to see the disappointment in my parent’s eyes when I call them upset, or even in some cases show up at their door with bags full of my things, swearing I’m done playing Flynn’s head games.

I suppose they’re used to the fighting since we’ve been doing it from day one. At seventeen I thought I was lucky. He wasn’t only handsome, but smart, and brave as well. Flynn Roberts was the good boy with the bad reputation. He was able to have any girl he wanted back then, and probably still could to this day. For all I know he could have been screwing around on me this whole time. Maybe that’s why we’ve never been able to really communicate. Maybe he hides behind a wall of secrets.

It’s easy to sit back and point fingers at someone else, rather than admit I’m the one at fault. I can’t help it. When that alarm goes off in the morning I cringe, not because he’s going to try and touch me, God forbid that happen, but rather that I know I’m going to have a repeat of the day before it.

He’ll expect me to help him out the door. If he’s sick I’ll have to call into his job, and nurse him back to health, because let’s face it, he’s a freaking child when he doesn’t feel good. Give him a runny nose and he can’t get out of bed. How pathetic is that? Is it all men, or just the one I’m married to?

I’ve asked my therapist- she claims that I’m nitpicking. To be honest I don’t even know if I care anymore. I look forward to the moment he leaves, and try to avoid him when he steps back in the door.

You’re probably wondering why we married, or how we got this way. I asked the same question each time he turns to walk away from me. I question what I saw in him back then. Apparently love is blind. I married a man who’s only ever put himself first. If he doesn’t get his way I’m a bitch, or a terrible wife. For seven years I’ve listened to this, and for those seven years, I’ve let it happen.

I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve cried myself to sleep at night, praying, pleading for God to help me. I asked why I couldn’t be a better person. Why couldn’t he love me more?

I honestly let him brainwash me into thinking I was the whole problem in our marriage. I felt as if I wasn’t what he wanted in a woman, and eventually a mother.

We had our first child when I turned nineteen. At the time he’d gone off to college, leaving me behind to live with his parents. He’d come home on weekends to his knocked up wife, which I honestly believed he’d hid from most all of his classmates.

At first his parents were in charge of our relationship. Since he’d gotten a scholarship, they weren’t going to allow him to give it up for me or a new baby. Yes, I’m dead serious. This really happened. My mom and dad wanted me to have an abortion, but I refused. They begged me to reconsider being with Flynn. They told me it would never work.

I ran away, well just to his parent’s home. When they found out about the pregnancy they questioned our relationship, and then pretty much forced us to marry. God forbid they have an illegitimate grandchild.

From the get-go, their animosity toward me was pretty well-known. Nothing I did was good enough for Flynn’s mother. She’d pick at the littlest of things, making sure to put me down until I felt incapable. She caused so many fights between us, especially when Flynn wasn’t home. I couldn’t even begin to count how many nights I called him at school, bawling my eyes and begging for some sort of resolution.

During my pregnancy I focused on our future, promising my unborn child a good life. It was evident how important it was to provide our child with a stable home. In order to do that, I needed to respect how a college education could give us that opportunity.

I’d like to say I tried my best to be patient and understanding, but as the months passed I saw Flynn less and less. He started staying on campus, attending parties, and doing other activities that didn’t involve me.

Not only was I jealous, but over-emotional as well. Combine the two of those together and I was a mess.

I’d call his phone until he either picked up or turned it off. He’d call me every name in the book, and I’d return the same language right back. Then, when I felt as if nothing could repair the damage, he’d show up. The makeup sex was always the best, and for a while I was content.

One night, on a Friday he wasn’t due to come home, I awoke from a terrible nightmare. It upset me so much that I knew I wouldn’t calm down unless I spoke to him to be sure he was okay.

When a female voice answered the phone, I felt like my whole future had ended. Being sick wasn’t even the half of it. In the background I could hear him talking, calling her baby, and asking who she was talking to. At the time I didn’t know he’d been drinking, though I also didn’t give him a chance to explain.

In a pair of pajamas, with a huge belly, I took his mother’s keys to her vehicle and drove to the college, determined to look him in the eyes and let him know we were over.

To this day I still don’t know what happened in that dorm room. After someone let me inside, I climbed the stairs and knocked on the door until he opened it. Sitting in a chair off to the side was a blonde female. She was in a bra and a pair of jeans. At first she looked at me like I was in the wrong place, but when Flynn acknowledged me she quickly exited the room.

That was the night that could have changed our future. Maybe I was wrong to give him an ultimatum. Perhaps I didn’t have a right to control his life, but I did it anyway. I made Flynn choose me over going to the university, because I knew I’d never trust him if he stayed. At the time I didn’t see it as being selfish. Now, seven years later, I feel as if it was the biggest mistake of my life. I almost wish he would have found the love of his life at that school, because it was quite clear it wasn’t me.

While sitting in front of our small ranch style home, I peered down at the address of the bed and breakfast the therapist had given me. Did I want to even bring it up to Flynn? Could the two of us be alone for a whole weekend without wanting to strangle one another? Did I want to know what it felt like to have him touch me without cringing? Was there any kind of sexual chemistry even left between us? Could Flynn ever learn how to please a woman first instead of being so damn selfish?

I hated even considering how bad it could turn out, but I was tired of living like this. I knew there was so much neither of us had ever experienced. We were naïve and curious, so much that we couldn’t find a happy medium. Was it so wrong to want to experience hot, unadulterated sex with someone who could appreciate me the way I was? I hated the idea of being with someone else. I didn’t want my family to break up, but this wasn’t healthy.

Before exiting my vehicle, I crumpled the small note and shoved it in my pocket. My marriage was over, and the sooner I came to grips with it the faster I could plan the divorce.

Michel’s Review

Binge by Jennifer Foor is unlike any book that I have read. It is the type of book that may not be for all readers.

*** Warning: Binge contains several triggers that may bother readers…If you have certain triggers such as marital problems, cheating, and harsh verbal abuse then don’t read this book. ***

Binge was a tough book for me to read because it is not my cup of tea. I have to honestly say that several of the scenes bothered me immensely . The entire subject matter bothered me. But at the same time I was intrigued to see how this couple was going to find resolution to their marital problems.

I’m not going to say too much more about the contents of the book. I don’t want to give away spoilers that may turn off a reader or spoil the story for intrigued reader. I am going to talk about Jennifer’s writing. She did a superb job portraying the characters and their emotions. I felt the anger, the despair, the hopelessness, and the intense love. I felt their frustrations and their elations. I liked how Jennifer emphasized the importance of therapy and outside help. I liked how she emphasized the importance of communication and how important it is. She allowed her characters to both be terribly flawed. She also showed how it takes two people to make or break any kind of relationship. I loved how both of the characters had to learn to face themselves and realize that their actions are part of the cause and affect.

For those readers that are married they will identify with both of the characters in some manner. Every relationship has it’s ups and downs. Jennifer did a brilliant job relating how important it is to work on the relationship or to cut it lose before it completely destroys each person.

Like I said this was a hard book for me to read. I generally like something a bit more entertaining and fictitious. I am looking for escape. This book was little too realistic in many ways that just left me feeling heavy and down. The writing was excellent and I have to commend Jennifer Foor for approaching a subject that may be very hard for romance readers.

Jennifer Foor is an award winning Contemporary Romance Author. She’s best known for the Mitchell Family Series, which includes ten books.

She is married with two children and spends most of her time behind a keyboard, writing stories that come from her heart.

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