Meet Tanner & Beaux in HARD BEAT – the newest stand alone in the

Driven Series by K. Bromberg!

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Hard Beat

Hard Driven Series- Book 7

By K. Bromberg

Synopsis

From the New York Times bestselling author of Sweet Ache comes a blistering new novel filled with danger, secrecy, and a desire that can’t be sated…

Foreign war correspondent Tanner Thomas is addicted to living on the edge. Needing the adrenaline rush of his job to help him cope with a personal loss, he throws himself back into the game, concentrating all his energy on getting the next big story. But when he meets his new photojournalist, Beaux Croslyn, he can’t help but feel like he’s losing his focus—and maybe risking more…

With secrets she won’t address, Beaux is far from your ordinary woman. Determined to keep her distance, she’s willing to pull Tanner in closer and hide behind the sparks flying between them. But as Beaux’s past begins to put their relationship—and their lives—at risk, Tanner’s determination to find the truth puts them both in jeopardy.

He’s ready to chase her to the ends of the earth to find out if what they had was real, or if the danger surrounding them was just an exquisite heat fated to burn out….

Buy: Amazon / B & N / ITunes / Kobo

Excerpt

She pulls me from my lewd but damn fine thoughts when she tries to jerk her arm from my hold. My spine stiffens some because hell if I’m up for resistance right now. I’m emotionally drained, exhausted, and as much as I don’t want to feel that grenade of desire sitting low in my belly, I still want to pull its pin so I can lose myself for a bit in the soft curves and sweet taste of a gorgeous woman no matter how fucking insolent she is.

I clench my jaw. A fleeting show of resistance before I give in to my need and the sexual tension. She gasps when I release her arm only to bring it up to her neck at the same time I crash my lips to hers.

And fuck yes I’m a dick for not letting her push me away, for letting my own need for this woman who will most likely move on by the week’s end control my actions, for taking without asking, but goddamn her small display of independence turns me on something fierce.

I brand my mouth to hers, press my tongue between her lips as she parts them. Her hands push me away, but the movement of her tongue tells me she wants more. She’s a clear contradiction in all meanings of the word. Soft and supple body, but I can feel the toned muscle beneath. Between kisses she tries to pull back, but a soft moan in the back of her throat when my free hand cups her ass tells me how much she wants this.

Her hands fist in my shirt at the same time my hand takes hold of the loose bun at the nape of her neck to tilt her head back and look into her eyes. But her mouth stays right where I want it because I’m nowhere near done with her yet.

“I don’t like you,” she claims through gritted teeth. Our hands run possessively over each other, but derision laced with defiance glimmers in her eyes.

“I beg to differ.” I laugh at the ludicrousness of her statement, considering the predicament we’re in. She tries to step back, but when she doesn’t release my shirt, I know she still wants more.

And fuck, I’m definitely all in. I need this outlet more than I ever realized until I was in the thick of it. I’ve kept to myself at home, fought with my sister when she attempted to fix me up with one of her friends, punished myself, and now with the heat of a woman’s body pressed up against me and the taste of her kiss seared in my goddamn brain, there is no way in hell I’m walking away now.

“I don’t like you,” she reiterates.

“Too bad,” I tell her as I go in for the next kiss. One that’s full of angry desperation and irresistible need with teeth nipping and tongues meeting and that ache deep in my balls taking hold of me. My hips pin her against the cold cinder-block wall behind her.

Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she tears her mouth from mine, our chests heaving. And then just when her protests stop and her tongue starts to dance with mine again, I pull back.

“You’re arrogant and—”

“You don’t have to like me to fuck me,” I say, cutting her off. “You just have to want me.”

She protests, and I cut her words off with my mouth on hers at the same time my hands grab her wrists. Even as I gain the advantage, I feel like she’s pulling out the ground from beneath my feet. “Fuck you!” She manages to get the words out between fervent kisses.

I chuckle against her lips before pulling back and looking straight into her desire-laden eyes. “That’s the plan.”

Michel’s Review

Hard Beat by K. Bromberg is the seventh book in the dynamic Driven Series.  Although it is part of the Driven Series, it is loosely connected.  It can be read as a stand alone novel.  For readers that have not read the Driven series or K. Bromberg, this is an excellent start.  This book showcases K. Bromberg’s writing ability and character development .

Hard Beat can stand on it’s own merit.  K. Bromberg not only delivered a sexy, angsty romance, she also added the romantic suspense element that drove this series into new territories.  I could not put this book down.

Hard Beat is written from Tanner’s POV.  Tanner is a reporter that has covered dangerous,politically charged, and morally questionable war zones.  He has been an overseas correspondent most of his career.  After a tragic loss and guilt ridden months, he’s ready to get back in the saddle again.  He needs to find his center once again.  When he is assigned a new photographer, Beaux Croslin, the sparks fly!  Their chemistry is sizzling hot!  But Tanner is trying to be realistic about their situation.  Rather than instantly falling in love again, this time he is questioning every moment.  He wants to know it’s real rather than a bi product of their adrenaline charge circumstances.

Beaux Croslin has her own secrets.  She’s not willing to talk about herself or her history.

Tanner is not one to let secrets stay hidden.  He will dig until he finds the answers.

Together they will make many discoveries that can be revealing more than they bargained for.  The twists and turns will give the readers a great surprise.

Hard Beat is emotional, heartbreaking, and fast paced.  I highly recommend this book.

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About K. Bromberg

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author K. Bromberg is that reserved woman sitting in the corner who has you all fooled about the wild child inside of her—the one she lets out every time her fingertips touch the computer keyboard.

K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Her debut novels, Driven, Fueled, and Crashed of The Driven Trilogy were well received and went on to become multi-platform bestsellers as well as landing on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Her other works include a short story, UnRaveled, and a companion piece to The Driven Trilogy titled Raced. She is currently working on three stand alone Driven novels, Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, and Hard Beat. She also plans to release a novel addressing the 10 year gap at the ending of Crashed in late fall 2015

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |

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You seriously don’t want to miss MMA-champion-turned-Hollywood-superstar Rogan. Hotness!

Get Tough Enough†on Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Kobo†| Google Play

Add Tough Enough†to your Goodreads TBR

From the author of the New York Times bestselling Bad Boys novels comes the second book in a dark, sexy contemporary trilogy.

Heís a fighter who never loses, but is he tough enough to win her heart?

There was a time when I had everythingña wonderful family, a bright future. Love. But all that was taken away in a single night, torn from me like flesh from bone. Since then, Iíve hidden away in my second-choice job as a makeup artist. But I prefer it that way, actually. Iím comfortable in the shadows, where no one can see my scars.

Kiefer Rogan literally took my breath away the moment I met him. MMA champion-turned-actor, notorious playboy, charming to a faultóheís everything I vowed to avoid.

But he just wouldnít stop until I opened up and let him in. Maybe I shouldíve tried harder to resist him. Maybe I shouldnít have fallen in love with him. Because I, of all people, know that everyone has secrets. Scars. And that theyíre usually ugly and painful and destructive to the people we love most.

I just never guessed that they could be deadly, too.

Get Tough Enough†on Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Kobo†| Google Play

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Get Strong†Enough, the first book in the Tall, Dark, and Dangerous series†on
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Add Tough Enough†to your Goodreads TBR

New York Times and USA Today†bestselling author M. Leighton is a native of Ohio. She relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she can be near the water all summer and miss the snow all winter.†Possessed of an overactive imagination from early in her childhood, Michelle finally found an acceptable outlet for her fantastical visions: literary fiction.

Having written over a dozen novels, these days Michelle enjoys letting her mind wander to more romantic settings with sexy Southern guys, much like the one she married and the ones you’ll find in her latest books. When her thoughts aren’t roaming in that direction, she’ll be riding horses, swimming in ponds and experiencing life on a ranch, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office.

Sign up for her newsletter here, and be the first to know about exclusive giveaways, new books, and awesome fan-only perks! And join Michelle in her superfan Facebook group, Laid Back with Leighton, right here!

We are so excited to bring you the Release Day Launch for LEVELED by Jay Crownover! LEVELED is a Contemporary Romance novella in The Saints of Denver Series being published by HarperCollins. This amazing novella releases TODAY, so be sure to grab your copy now!

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EXCERPT:

He reached out and shut the medical file in front of him and leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows arched up, and he laced his fingers together and put his index fingers under his chin.

“What exactly are you after, Mr. Voss?” His voice was smooth and modulated. I was a disaster, a bundle of nerves and anxiety, and this dude was acting like we were talking about the weather, not my entire life and everything I had ever worked my ass off for.

Defiantly I spread my legs apart and slumped back in the chair across from him, making it a point to affect a posture that was as casual as his was professional. I had on a faded DPD T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee, and both were a little baggy since I’d lost some of my bulk being laid up in the hospital after the accident. If the guy across from me was a cherry-red Ferrari, then I was a rusted-out and battered John Deere tractor in comparison.

“I want my life back, Mr. Frederick. I want to be able to move the way I used to. I want to pass the department physical so I can go back on patrol. I want to be able to walk without needing a crutch or a cane. I want to be the way I was before I got hurt.” I was asking for the impossible and I knew it. “And please call me Dom.”

He dipped his chin down a little, and the edge of his mouth tilted up in a slight grin. Damn the man was good-looking. I blew out a breath and lifted up my hands to run them over the top of my shorn hair. I was hanging on to my sanity by a thread and my unexpected reaction to the guy that I was hanging every hope I had left on wasn’t helping matters.

“All right, Dom. You can call me Lando. That’s what my friends call me.”

I felt one of my eyebrows shoot up. “Are we going to be friends?”

Don’t miss a Sneak Peek of BUILT, the first full-length novel in the Saints of Denver Series, in the back of LEVELED!

About LEVELED:

We all need a hero…let the Saints of Denver begin.

Orlando Frederick knows what it is to be leveled by pain. Instead of focusing on his own, he’s made it his mission to help others: sports stars, wounded war vets, survivors of all kinds. But when Dom, a rugged, damaged, sinfully attractive cop makes his way into Lando’s physical therapy practice, he might be the biggest challenge yet. Lando loved one stubborn man before and barely survived the fallout. He’s not sure if he can do it again.

Dominic Voss is a protector. The police badge he wears is not only his job, it’s his identity, so when he’s sidelined because of an injury, the only thing he cares about is getting back on the force. He expects Lando to mend his body, he just doesn’t realize the trainer will also have him working towards a hell of a lot more. As attraction simmers and flares, Dom sees that Lando needs repair of his own…if only the man will let him close enough to mend what’s broken.

About Jay Crownover:

Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men and The Point series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she’ll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs.

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Blind dates are the work of the devil…
I’m a serial-one nighter, and my best friend is my inner slut.
He’s temptation personified, and his best friend is definitely his cock.
Carter Hughes gave me a taste of my own medicine. He wham, bam, thank you ma’amed me into oblivion, and I hell yes, oh God, right there’d him into paradise.
I thought that would be the end—until my mother’s double booking for a consultation winds me right back up at the place I swore I’d never go again. Now I’m fighting for an interior design contract I don’t even want… Just to make a point.
If I get it, the date won’t be the devil.
Carter Hughes will be.

(Disclaimer: BLIND DATE was originally published as a short story in the ONE anthology. It has now been expanded into a longish novella, approx. 47k words.)

Amazon / Amazon UK

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

 

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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Finding Forever

The Chasing Series

By Linda Oaks

Buy: Amazon

Synopsis

What if forever was never meant to be?

Kara Thorn had always been the confident one until the fateful day her heart was shattered. She lost the one person she thought would never walk away….

Devon McGraw, the man who had promised her forever.

When Kara returns to her hometown for a wedding, fate intervenes throwing her and Devon together once again. Their chemistry is stronger than ever before, but Devon is not the same guy that Kara fell in love with. The man he’d become had a past, and it was complicated.

He wanted a week, but Kara wants forever.

Will Kara forgive Devon’s past or will her own ruin any chance of her finding forever?

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Excerpt

When the coffee had finished perking, I took a mug down from the cabinet. “I could get use to this,” Devon drawled, and I halfway turned in surprise, watching as he walked to the counter to stand before me. “Just black,” I said, recalling how Devon liked his coffee. He smiled, and I reached for the coffee pot feeling his eyes tracking my every move.

     “I’m surprised you remembered,” he said, and I glanced at him, smiling.

     “I remember everything about you, Dev,” I said, handing him the mug.

     He rolled his eyes at me and grinned. I wanted to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t just feeding him full of shit. I actually meant it. I couldn’t win with him. “Now get over here and give me some sugar.” He ordered, but I was pissed. I’d tried sweet, and he ruined it.

     I cocked my hand on my hip looking back at him, fluttered my eyelashes, and pointed at his coffee mug. “Now Dev, you know that you don’t like sugar, sugar,” I drawled in an exaggerated southern accent.

     He threw back his head laughing. When he moved closer, crowding me in, I glared at him and watched as he set his mug down on the counter. Before I could utter a word, he had me wrapped up in his arms. My back pressed against the edge of the counter. His big body covered mine and made my thoughts scatter. His mouth hovered over mine, and I licked my lips anticipating his kiss. His intense stare held mine, and I swallowed nervously.

     “Now darling,” he began, and warmth pooled low in the pit of my stomach. How did he do this to me? “Do you know what happens to little ladies with sassy mouths?” he asked, and my heart rate quickened.

     Before I could reply with one of my usual smartass comments, his mouth was on mine, hungrily devouring my will with each brush of his sensual lips and sweet tongue. My hands gripped his hips. I moaned into his mouth, pouring everything into that kiss. When I squirmed, he smiled against my lips and stepped away. What the hell?

     In a daze, I watched him pick up his mug from the counter. “Eight o’clock tonight,” he reminded me with a shit-eating grin and turned, walking for the door. That bastard! He was whistling as he made his way down the hall. Unconsciously, I touched my fingers to my lips. They were puffy and swollen. I could still taste the sweetness of his kiss. Well, sassy pants had officially been put properly into place by one little ole kiss.

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Linda Oaks Bio:

Linda Oaks has always had a passion for books. At the age of five, she was a book of the month club member. Her love for books eventually led her to a love for writing. She resides in Eastern Kentucky with her husband, two children, three dogs and a pet rabbit named Dozer. She can be found on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. She can be also be reached by email at authorlindaoaks@gmail.com. She loves connecting with her readers.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Giveaway

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The Fall Up

By Aly Martinez

Release Date : October 26, 2015

Synopsis

I wanted to jump.

He made me fall.

As a celebrity, I lived in the public eye, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself in the spotlight.

Until he found me.

Sam Rivers was a gorgeous, tattooed stranger who saved my life with nothing more than a simple conversation.

But we were both standing on that bridge for a reason the night we met. The secrets of our pasts brought us together—and then tore us apart.

Could we find a reason to hold on as life constantly pulled us down?

Or maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall in love at rock bottom—up.

Maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall

in love at rock bottom—up.

Buy: Amazon / ITunes / Kobo

Sensual woman kissing her handsome husbandAuthor Bio:

Excerpt

Chapter One

Levee

It was raining. Isn’t that the way all great love stories start? And also usually end? The midnight air was cool against my skin as I stared off that bridge. My blond wig was secured in place by a headband, and chunky sunglasses covered my whiskey-colored eyes. I didn’t look like myself any more than I felt it. Bruises from the night before painted my legs while fresh scabs covered my knees, but it was the hollowness in my chest that hurt the most.

Yep. Still me.

Which was exactly why I was standing on that bridge, wishing for the mental fortitude to hurl myself off.

A man’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You finally gonna do it tonight?”

I instinctually smoothed my fake hair down and pressed the bridge of my glasses closer to my face, sealing out any possible glance he could catch. I stared ahead as I snapped, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen you here three nights in a row now. I was just wondering if tonight was going to be the night you finally jump.”

My eyes flashed wide, but since they were covered by the dark glasses, my reaction remained hidden. “I just like the view. That’s all.” What a load of shit.

I watched him nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah me too. It’s gorgeous up here.”

Shuffling my feet to the side, I attempted to slip away as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered it my way.

“You want one?”

I shook my head and then crept down a few inches to put distance between us.

“Suit yourself.” He used a hand to shield the lighter from the wind, but the constant sprinkle of rain made his task impossible. “Damn it,” he cursed with the cigarette tucked between his lips. “Little help?” he asked, swinging his gaze to mine.

Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “With what?”

“It’s raining…and windy…and I’m trying to burn one.” He tilted his head, equally as incredulous.

“You want me to call God? We had a bad breakup recently, but he might be willing to do me one last favor.”

He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. What’s the big guy’s response time like these days? Last time we spoke, it was”—he paused to look at his watch—“oh, twenty-seven years.”

A soft laugh bubbled from my throat, and one side of his mouth lifted in a gorgeous grin.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to wait that long, so maybe you could just block the wind with your body?” His smile spread as he stepped toward me, forcing my gaze to nervously bounce away.

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. Lung cancer and I broke up too.” After gathering the back of my wig into a ponytail, I pulled it over my shoulder and turned away from him. The chill of the wind blasted my face and roared over my ears as it rushed past me.

I went back to staring out at the dark, choppy water, becoming lost in the idea of how cold it might be.

Is tonight the night?

No.

My feet would more than likely never leave the edge of that bridge, but there was a definite reason why I was imagining ending it all. Exactly zero other people in the world would understand why. I had it all, and I dreamed about losing it all—more often than I would ever admit, even to myself.

After stepping out of my heels, I slipped my foot between the bars on the railing. The wind slammed my bruised leg against the metal. “Shit,” I hissed as pain shot through me.

“You think that hurts? Imagine falling twenty-five stories then crashing into the water, which might as well be concrete, at speeds upward of seventy miles per hour,” the man said, leaning on the metal railing next to me.

“Wow. Someone’s done some research,” I said sarcastically, barely sparing him a glance.

“Daily,” he responded frankly, causing my surprised gaze to swing to his. Simply shrugging at my reaction, he turned his back to the railing and propped himself up on his colorfully tattooed forearms. “You forget I’ve been here the last three nights in a row too.” He smirked, lifting the cigarette up to his lips for a deep inhale.

“Listen, I’m not going to jump if you’re some kind of caped crusader on a mission. I just needed some fresh air.” I pointedly glanced at his cigarette.

A laugh escaped his mouth in a grey puff. “Fresh air is overrated. Especially given the reason you’re standing here.” He knowingly arched a dark-brown eyebrow.

“Riiiiight,” I drawled, rolling my eyes behind my glasses. “Okay, well, I was just heading out anyway.”

“Then my work here is done.” He bowed, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a smile as I stepped back into my shoes and walked away.

I shook my head at the random stranger. Then, a thought struck me, stopping me only a few feet away. Spinning back to face him, I asked, “Wait. Were you reaching out to me as a cry for help?”

“Oh look. Designer Shoes has a conscience!” He dropped his cigarette to the damp ground, stepping on it with the toe of his well-worn, black boots. Bending over, he picked the butt up and tucked it in his pocket.

At least he didn’t litter.

“Oh look. Tattooed Stalker has jokes!” I smarted back.

He smiled, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and then pausing just before guiding it between his lips. “Were you judging me based on my tattoos? I’m offended.” He feigned anguish then laughed while lifting his lighter to once again battle the wind for a nicotine fix.

I wanted to walk away, but he wasn’t wrong. I did have a conscience, and right then, I was worried that it might really be his night to make good on his apparent numerous visits to the bridge.

With a huff, I headed back towards him, praying that I could wrap it up as quickly as possible then head back to my house for a few hours of sleep. Or, more likely, lie awake while staring at the ceiling and crying.

“Are you planning to jump for real?” I asked.

His smile fell as he focused on the water. “Nah. I don’t have the balls to do something like that. Talking to you wasn’t a plea for help or anything. You just look worse than usual tonight.” His gaze slid down to my battered legs.

“Oh!” I exclaimed in understanding. “That’s not at all what you’re thinking. I fell down some stairs.”

He quirked his lips in disbelief.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he told the wind. “You can go. I’m good.”

I could have walked away, but for some reason, I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders and silently stood there while he finished his cigarette.

After a final deep inhale, he flicked it over the railing of the bridge.

Apparently, he does litter.

Turning to me, his face became serious. “You need to call the cops before he makes the decision to end it all for you.”

“Who?” I asked, watching the burning ember hit the metal column then explode in a million different sparks before disappearing down to the water below.

Lucky cigarette.

“The stairs…and whatever inanimate object you’re blaming for those bruises you’re hiding behind sunglasses at one in the morning. You should call the cops before…” His voice trailed off, but his dark gaze narrowed on mine. His eyes bored into my hidden stare, combining with the rain and wind to send chills down my spine.

I took the moment to secretly assess him. He was insanely sexy, but nothing like the men I was accustomed to. His chin was the kind of scruffy that made women weak, but it was obvious he didn’t pay four hundred dollars for his personal hairstylist to shape it. Judging by his shaggy, brown hair that begged for me to thread my fingers in it, I wasn’t sure he was even a barbershop kind of guy. He stood a few inches taller than I was in heels, so I pegged him at around six one. And while his tattooed forearms were deliciously sculpted and his shoulders were notably defined, his body didn’t appear to be swollen with muscles from hours spent at the gym. By the aura of bad boy he gave off, I would have expected him to be a self-consumed, arrogant prick.

He wasn’t though.

He was just an average guy worrying about the well-being of an average girl.

Only he couldn’t have been more wrong, and a pang of guilt hit me hard.

Just not hard enough for me to do anything to correct his assumptions about who I was.

Very softly, I attempted to put his fears to rest. “I promise it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Okay,” he responded, unconvinced. He nodded to himself before dragging another cigarette from his pocket.

I watched him struggle for a second before I scooted towards him, using my body to block the wind.

Biting the cigarette between his straight, white teeth, he smiled devilishly around it. “Thanks.” Flicking the flame to life, he hunched over until a stream of smoke swirled up from the red tip.

“You should stop smoking.”

“Noted.” He exhaled through his nose.

We went back to silently staring over the side of the bridge. The familiar lights of the San Francisco skyline danced all around us. And, even as tourists and locals alike passed by us, I felt an odd, and unbelievably comfortable, isolation standing there with him.

When my teeth began to chatter, his attention was drawn my way. “I’m not here to jump. You really can go.”

I nodded but didn’t move away.

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his biceps for warmth.

“How are you not frozen?” I asked, taking in his thin Henley for the first time since we met.

Shrugging, he dropped his cigarette, answering as he bent to retrieve it. “Thick skin? I’m used to it? I come here a lot? I’m half Eskimo?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“Fucking. Freezing,” he admitted, tucking his arms close to his body and blowing into his hands. “I just came up here for one smoke. Then I saw you. Now, come on. Be a lady and loan a man a jacket,” he joked, tugging on the edge of my coat.

I laughed, hugging it even tighter around my body and stepping out of his reach. “How about we both just leave? Then neither of us have to worry about the other plummeting to their death.”

“Sounds like an amazing plan.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the tattered jeans riding low on his hips. As we began the hike back down to the foot of the bridge, he asked, “You have a name, Designer Shoes?”

I smiled and shook my head, not willing to lie—or divulge the truth.

“Yeah. Me either,” he replied.

I bit my bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Side by side, we trudged the rest of the way in silence.

When we got to the foot of the bridge, he turned to face me and sighed. “Well, I genuinely hope I never see you again.”

My head snapped back in shock, and maybe a little hurt.

But he quickly corrected himself. “No! I just mean… Shit.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair while I watched, amused. “I just mean, given the way we met… I…um. I hope you never have a reason to go back up there.”

I teasingly tipped my head to the side. “But I really like the view.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Of course, the view. Okay, well, have a good night.”

“You too.” I smiled tightly, but my feet didn’t budge. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want him to see my car or the bodyguard waiting for me behind the wheel. But, in reality, I just wasn’t ready to leave. Home wasn’t where I wanted to be. I didn’t actually want to be anywhere.

Not even standing at the foot of a bridge, talking to a witty and sexy man.

Okay, maybe I wanted that a little bit.

“Yep. Have a good night,” he repeated, shoving his hands inside his pockets and slowly backing away.

I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before he jogged in the other direction.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head at the entire interaction—secretly lamenting that it hadn’t been longer.

Author Bio:

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

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