Pre Release Blitz + Excerpt + Giveaway : Romancing Dr. Love by Rebecca Heflin

It’s all about the chemistry.
ROMANCING DR. LOVE
Sterling University #1
Rebecca Heflin
Releasing March 7th, 2017

 

Dr.
Samantha Love says it’s all about the chemistry. A brainy psychology professor
and researcher, Sam has based her entire academic career on the theory that
what we call love is simply a chemical reaction. She is currently running a
study to prove that her compatibility blood test reveals perfect matches—sort
of like an organ donor, but for relationships. No romance required.
 
Along comes
sexy literature professor, Dr. Ethan Quinn, who says it’s all about the
romance. He thinks the pretty psychology professor has taken love and all its
mysteries and reduced it to something as romantic as a cholesterol test, and he
sets out to prove her theory wrong.
 

 

When Ethan
signs up for her study, Sam discovers to her horror, that according to her
compatibility test, they are a perfect match. Sam faces an existential crisis
over her career and her research. If she believes in her science, shouldn’t it
follow that she believes Ethan is her perfect mate? And if she doesn’t believe
he’s her perfect mate, doesn’t that bring into question her research? Her
compatibility test? Her reputation? And her very career?

As Sam struggles with her dilemma, Ethan pursues her with all the romantic
tactics in his arsenal. Will Sam’s theories succumb to his challenge? Or will
Ethan lose the battle for Sam’s heart?
 
ONLY .99 CENTS
SPECIAL PRE-ORDER PRICE 


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Excerpt

“No, no, no. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening,” Samantha Love muttered as she gently banged her head against the steering wheel.

She turned the key again. Nothing. Not even a wheeze. This was the icing on the cake of her otherwise craptastic day.

A bead of sweat trickled down her back. And another one between her girls. God, she hated boob sweat.

When she’d taken the research and teaching position at Sterling University in North Georgia last fall, she’d never have guessed the summer would be so hot.

Throwing open the door of her car to let in even more stifling heat, she searched for the lever to pop the hood. Finally locating it, she pulled it, then walked around to the front of the car. As if she knew what to do.

Just as she leaned under the hood to jiggle some wire thingies, she heard, “Dr. Love? Do you need some help?”

She let out a startled squeak hitting her head on the underside of the hood. “Ow!” Rubbing the offended spot, she turned and saw Ethan Quinn standing there looking all adorable. Not to mention manly.

Dammit. Why did it have to be him? “No. I’m fine.” Yeah, right. For all her parents’ preaching on women and self-sufficiency, she didn’t know a dipstick from a spark plug when it came to cars. She turned back to the mystery parts under the hood.

“You need a jump.”

“I beg your pardon?” She spun, hand on her hip.

“Your battery.” He pointed in the direction of her open hood. “It probably needs a jump.”

“Oh. Right.” Of course he meant her battery. What else would he be talking about?

“I have jumper cables in my car. I’ll have you going in a few minutes.”

“He’ll have me going in a few minutes,” she mumbled under her breath as she watched him walk to the far corner of the parking lot. Tall, athletic build, dark-wash jeans, white button-down shirt. And that hair. Tousled espresso-brown waves just brushing the top of his collar. “He’s already got me going,” she said to herself.

He tossed his messenger bag in the car and climbed in. And, of course, his car started. Because that’s what cars did. They started when you turned the key. Then they blew cold air, so you didn’t have to stand in the mid-July Georgia heat. Unless they dated back to the Stone Age like hers. Another bead of sweat trickled between her breasts.

She released a wistful sigh. Bet the AC felt good.

He pulled his recent model American-made car around to face hers and then got out to pop the hood. Walking around to the trunk, he opened it and grabbed a set of jumper cables, looking like he knew what he was doing.

Good thing somebody around here did.

“It’s a hot one today,” Ethan commented, as he connected one of the clamp doohickeys to what she assumed was the car battery. His sleeves were rolled up over his forearms, displaying muscles with a light dusting of hair.

Clamping the other end of the cables to his own battery, he then returned to her car. When he walked past her, his cologne wafted to her nose, temporarily erasing her angst at being in his presence.

Then he touched his hand to her back. And the anxiety returned tenfold. “Stand clear.” He leaned into the gaping mouth of the car and attached the remaining clamp, throwing a spark.

“All right. Let’s see if we can get this baby going.” He climbed into the driver’s seat of his car and turned it on.

“Give her a try,” he hollered over the din of his car’s running motor.

Sam dropped into the front seat and turned the key. The older-than-dirt engine tried but couldn’t work up enough energy to turn over.

“Hold on,” Ethan called, then revved his car. “Okay, try her again.”

Her car wheezed then reluctantly cranked a couple of times before coming to life.

Ethan was at her door, leaning over, hands braced on the roof. “Great. Let her run a bit, then I’ll disconnect the cables.” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “My AC’s on full blast. Why don’t you sit in my car until yours is ready to go.” He stepped aside to give her room to get out.

Sam felt as wilted as week-old lettuce, so against her better judgment she took him up on the offer.

He opened the front passenger door of his shiny black Lincoln MKS—such a gentleman—and she sank into the leather seats and stuck her face in front of the vent. God, it felt good. The door closed with a solid thunk. Resisting the urge to wipe away the boob sweat, she settled for drying the perspiration on her face and neck.

The car dipped as Ethan took a seat on the driver’s side before shutting the door and closing out the rest of the world. Music played softly in the background—something popular. The intimacy of being alone in the car with Ethan washed over her.

“I’d offer you something cool to drink, but I don’t have anything.”

She realized she hadn’t said a word in the last five minutes. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary. You’d do the same for me.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” She smiled. “I don’t know a thing about cars.”

He nodded as a grin split his face. “Well, from the looks of your battery, you’re going to need a new one. I can follow you to Burt’s Automotive. He can have a replacement installed in fifteen minutes.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t want to put you out in any further.”

“It’s no trouble. Besides, if you go straight home, I don’t think she’s going to start for you in the morning.”

“Oh.” That would not be good.

“She should be juiced up enough to get you to Burt’s. Stay here until I unhook the cables.” Ethan got out of the car and set to work.

She’d steered clear of Ethan Quinn since the day she was introduced to the rest of the college faculty. The moment they shook hands she’d felt a connection. And from the look on his face, he’d felt it too. That flood of adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin one feels when there is a strong physical attraction.

Relationships were complicated, but getting situated at a new university was already complicated enough.

No. Being in close proximity to Ethan Quinn was a bad idea. So as much as she hated to leave the cool comfort of his car, she jumped out and got in her rolling oven before he could say otherwise.

 



Rebecca
Heflin
 is
an award-winning author who has dreamed of writing romantic fiction since she
was fifteen and her older sister snuck a copy of Kathleen Woodiwiss’ Shanna to
her and told her to read it. Rebecca writes women’s fiction and contemporary
romance. When not passionately pursuing her dream, Rebecca is busy with her
day-job as a practicing attorney.
Rebecca is a member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Florida Romance
Writers, RWA Contemporary Romance, and Florida Writers Association. She and her
mountain-climbing husband live at sea level in sunny Florida.
 

 

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Excerpt Reveal + Giveaway: The Rule Maker by Jennifer Blackwood

All her rules are about to change…

 

THE RULE MAKER
The Rule Breakers #2
Jennifer Blackwood
Releasing January 16th, 2017
Entangled Embrace

 

Ten
Steps to Surviving a New Job:

1. Don’t sleep with the client. It’ll get you fired. (Sounds easy enough.)
2. Don’t blink when new client turns out to be former one-night stand.3. Don’t call same client a jerk for never texting you back.

4. Don’t believe client when he says he really, really wanted to call.

5. Remember, the client is always right—so you can’t junk punch him when he
demands new design after new design.

6. Ignore accelerated heartbeat every time sexy client walks into room.

7. Definitely ignore client’s large hands. They just mean he wears big gloves.

8. Don’t let client’s charm wear you down. Be strong.

9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the client. You’ll lose more than your
job—maybe even your heart.

10. If all else fails, see rule number one again.

 
~ Coming January 16th ~

 
 
He scrubbed
his palms over his face and rested his elbows on his knees. “This was not how I
saw this night going.”
“Big
Valentine’s Day plans?”
He lowered his
hands and looked at me like I’d just claimed I single-handedly caused the storm
raging outside. “I didn’t even know that was today. Does this mean we’re each
other’s valentines by default?”
I scoffed.
“Not a chance.”
He chuckled.
“Always so blunt. I like that about you.” He quickly cleared his throat as if
he hadn’t meant to say that. “Well, non-valentine, looks like we’re going to be
stuck here a while. Have anything in mind?” he said.
I decided
against packing on another insult. He was being nice, and this sure as heck
beat staring at the wall the rest of the night. “My form of entertainment is at
6 percent battery, so I’m open to suggestions.”
“Mine is fully
charged. Want to watch something?”
“Sure.” What
else did I have to do? Before I knew it, I was sitting on the bed next to him, leaning
against the ornately carved headboard. Snow gusting against the window was the
only sound in the room as he searched for a show for us to watch.
So quiet.
Way too quiet.
I fidgeted
with my necklace, moving the small diamond back and forth on the chain. The
last time I was in bed with Ryder… I didn’t even want to finish that thought,
because it’d do nothing but make this situation worse. I chanced a peek in his
direction.

He chewed the
inside of his cheek, swiping through our options. “This is awkward, huh?” he
said.
“We’ve
achieved Urkel status.”
He chuckled
and scrolled through the show queue. “Would you rather watch Law
and Order: SVU
or Criminal
Minds?”
“That is quite
possibly the worst Would You Rather question ever asked.”
His eyes cut
to mine. “I didn’t know I was playing a game.”
“You’ve never
played it?”
He shook his
head.
Lainey and I
played this game all the time in college, and when we’d take road trips
together. She always came up with the grossest ones. “It’s simple. All you have
to do is ask the person which horrible thing they’d rather do. The harder the
question, the better. Like would you rather lay in a pit of snakes, or eat
questionably dead roadkill?” I pointed to his phone. “Oh, John
Tucker Must Die.
I like that one.
“Negative,
ghost rider.” He scrolled past my suggestion. “And what the hell does questionably
dead mean? Is it still twitching, or are we talking
suspicious cause of death?”
I shrugged.
“The interpretation’s up to you.”
“You’re
absolutely no help.” He swiped his thumb across his beard and contemplated. “I
guess I’d go with the snakes.”
“Okay, now
it’s your turn,” I said.
“Do I really
have to play? I thought we were picking a show.”
I shot him a
look.
“Fine. Would
you rather have me or Chewbacca as your valentine?”
“Too easy. The
spider.”
He put his
hand to his heart. “You wound me.”
“Stop being
such a baby.” I swatted at his chest and immediately pulled my hand back. Nope.
Would not go there. “Okay, would you rather not be able to see or talk for a
month?”
He answered
instantly. “See.”
“Right. You’d
probably go nuts if you couldn’t open that big mouth of yours.”
His lips
twitched. “You’re one to talk.”
“Excuse me?”
Okay, I did have a tough time keeping my thoughts on lockdown outside the
office, but that was my own cross to bear.
“Don’t even
try to play it off like you’re innocent.”
I’d dated a
lot of losers in the past, most who hadn’t even bothered to get to know me, but
even after only hanging out a few times, Ryder had me pegged. He was
perceptive. I saw the look in his eyes whenever I dealt with Jason. His attention
focused solely on me was unnerving. “Jerk,” I sputtered.
“Now I know
you’re holding back. You can do way better than that.” He scrolled through his
phone again. “How about Die Hard?”
“Are all your
show selections about death? I’m starting to worry I made a mistake coming over
here.” My lips pulled into a smile and I quickly extinguished it. God, I wanted
to hate him.
“Fine.” He
continued looking at the Netflix queue. “Would you rather eat sushi from a taco
stand, or lick an airplane armrest?”
“Good one.
Sushi.” I pointed to his screen. “How about 10 Things I
Hate About You?”
He shook his
head and chuckled. “Are all of your suggestions
going to not-so-subtly tell me you hate me?”
I smiled
sweetly. “Maybe.”
“Just think,
most people would find this to be a romantic escape. Two people, stuck in the
mountains on Valentine’s Day,” he said.
“We’re
Hallmark movie material, all right,” I deadpanned.
“Okay, fine.
How about The Walking Dead?”
“Your show
picking powers have been officially revoked.” I grabbed the phone from his
hand.
“Hey!” He
grabbed for the phone, and I held it out of reach. “You’re going to regret
that.” Within seconds he was on top of me, playfully pinning me to the bed, his
strong hands circling my wrists. Air evaporated from my lungs as our gazes
connected.
I was
immediately transported back to that night.
Tell
me what you want, Zoey. Tell me what you need from me.
I swallowed
hard. That was months ago, and those words still haunted me from time to time.
Because he did exactly that, gave me what I wanted and needed. Repeatedly.

 

Jennifer
Blackwood
 is
a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She lives in Oregon
with her husband, son, and poorly behaved black lab puppy. When not chasing
after her toddler, you can find her binging on episodes of Gilmore Girls and
Supernatural, and locking herself in her office to write.
 

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Release Blitz: One Careful Owner by Jane Harvey-Berrick

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One Careful Owner
By Jane Harvey-Berrick
Release Date: January 2, 2017
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Synopsis 

“Take me, all of me, broken and in pieces, or say to hell with me.”

WARNING!
This book will break your heart!
From the best-selling romance author of THE EDUCATION OF SEBASTIAN comes a sexy, heart-breaking and heart-warming story about one man and his dog. (Standalone)

* * * * *

Alex is lost and alone, with only his dog, Stan for company. He doesn’t expect kindness from anyone anymore, but sometimes hope can be found in the most unlikely places. He has a second chance at happiness, but there’s a dark side to Alex, and a reason that more than one person has called him crazy.

Single mother Dawn is doing just fine. Except that her ex- is a pain in the a**, her sister isn’t speaking to her, and her love life is on the endangered list.

At least her job as a veterinarian is going well. Until a crazy-looking guy arrives at her office accompanied by an aging dog with toothache. Or maybe Alex Winters isn’t so crazy after all, just … different.

Dawn realizes that she’s treated him the same way that all the gossips in town have treated her—people can be very cruel.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33001549-one-careful-owner

Contains scenes of an adult nature.

This is a standalone novel with no cliff-hanger.

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 Excerpt

He still reminded me of a Mountain Man, and he appeared to be wearing the clothes that I’d thought were rags. His long, shaggy brown hair and thick beard hid most of his face. A shudder of apprehension ran through me.
He seemed just as ill at ease as he had been by the lake, his eyes darting around restlessly, but then he walked around to the passenger door and I lost sight of him.
When he reappeared, he was carrying a large dog, one that easily weighed 80 or 90 pounds. He must have been strong because he carried the weight easily. I recalled the thick slabs of muscle that sculpted his chest and arms when I’d seen him earlier. Yes, there was no doubt that he was strong, but as he held his pet, his hands were gentle.
I watched his chin bob, and I realized that he was talking to his dog.
Carefully, he set the animal on the ground and fixed a leash around its neck.
The dog immediately sat down and refused to budge. His coat was thick and looked glossy and healthy, his muzzle starting to gray. I guessed he was part retriever, part mastiff—large and solid. And heavy.
Ashley giggled as the man tugged on the leash, but the dog still wouldn’t move. The man stood still, looking at his pet, his hands on his hips, then he shook his head in defeat. Bending down, he scooped up the dog again and shouldered his way through the door into the office.
Now he was closer, I could study him in more detail.
His hair was a tangle of light brown with sun-blond lights, still uncombed, an off-putting mess of wild, crazy curls. His clothes were even worse now I could see him wearing them, unkempt and torn as if he’d given up, but they were clean. And when he stopped in front of Ashley, I caught the faint scent of soap and laundry detergent—no cologne. This man was a paradox.
Ashley smiled tightly from her position behind the reception desk.
“Mr. Winters and Stan, is that right?”
He nodded but didn’t speak, still holding his dog in his arms. His face was grim, as if he’d never smiled, never thought of smiling.
So this was the man who’d bought Old Joe’s place? I immediately felt guilty that I’d assumed he was trespassing and camping illegally. I didn’t know that somebody had already moved into the property. Technically, I’d been the interloper this morning. I felt like such a judgmental bitch. But he’d really scared me, and I hadn’t been thinking clearly.
“I’m so sorry,” Ashley said with fake sweetness, “but Dr. Petz, our male veterinarian, had to go out on an emergency visit. Dr. Andrews over there is available.”
He turned to stare at me and his body stiffened. I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor again. I thought for sure that he’d turn and walk out, but then he glanced at his dog and I saw the expression soften in his curious golden-brown eyes as he peered up at me and nodded slowly.
“Great!” said Ashley, her gaze glancing across to me. “I’ve got basic information from your email, but if you could just fill out this form and…”
“Maybe you’d like to bring Stan into the examination room, Mr. Winters,” I interrupted quickly. “He looks rather heavy.”
The man blinked twice, but carried the dog inside without commenting or even looking at Ashley.
“Rude!” Ashley said, not quietly enough, and although I agreed, I shot her a look and took the form from her.
She leaned toward me, her eyes wide as her voice dropped to an urgent whisper.
“I’ll keep my ears open, Dawn. He looks kind of weird. You know, serial killer weird.”
I pressed my lips together and followed my new client.

 

______________________________________________
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She is also a campaigner for former military personnel to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )
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Jane is a writer of contemporary romance fiction, known for thoughtful stories, often touching on difficult subjects: disability (DANGEROUS TO KNOW & LOVE, SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM); mental illness (THE EDUCATION OF CAROLINE, SEMPER FI); life after prison (LIFERS); dyslexia (THE TRAVELING MAN, THE TRAVELING WOMAN).

She is also a campaigner for former military personnel to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Excerpt Reveal: Seperation Games by CD Reiss – The Games Duet – Book 2

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Seperation Games

The Games Duet – Book 2

By CD Reiss

Release Date: January 3, 2017

Pre Order: Amazon / B & N / IBooks / Kobo

Synopsis

The stunning conclusion to the New York Times Bestseller.

 

There’s one, unbreakable rule in the game.

Stay collected. Compartmentalize. Think your next move through. Never let your heart dictate your tactics.

 

The heart is impulsive.

The heart makes bad decisions.

The heart doesn’t see the long game.

 

Because the heart may have decided to get Adam back, but when the endgame comes, the heart’s going to be the first thing to break.

______________________________________________

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Excerpt:

Adam pulled me to the next door to the left. It opened into a small theater with about two dozen red velvet seats with lights at the bases.

“There was this guy in Marine Park who collected vintage pornography. When he died, one of the clubs uptown took it and preserved it. When all the clubs merged, they reels moved here.”

“We’re going to watch porn together?”

He guided me down an aisle. “Yes.”

“How adventurous of us.” I smiled at him, flirting.

He smiled back a little, but was reserved in his enthusiasm. We sat in the center.

“Now I’m sorry I wore pants,” I said.

The lights dimmed to black. I took his hand, and he paused before dropping our entwined fingers in his lap.

“I’m trying to illustrate something. I want to talk. So I’m glad you wore pants.”

The bullseye countdown appeared. Adam leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and exhaled. They went back to the screen as if all necessary strength had been gathered.

She’s blindfolded, arms tied above her. He’s lashing her.

“These are from the late sixties,” he said as the picture flickered. There was no sound. “The stuff here is very real. There’s no retouching. It’s 16mm, so there’s none of the porny quality of video.”

He’s wrapping her tits in black tape.

“I see,” I said.

He was right. The frame was raw. The beauty of her submission wasn’t on the film. I didn’t feel as though I was watching something. I felt as though I was witnessing something.

He’s clamping her nipples until they’re elongated meat.

“This is called tit torture,” he said matter-of-factly. “Every step of this was worked out beforehand. You’re not seeing the dozen things he’s not doing.” He twisted in his seat to face me. He was backlit, so I couldn’t see his expression. “Give me an adjective. What do you think of it?”

“Is this your thing?”

“Answer me first.”

I loved him. I wanted him. I’d get on my knees and submit to him.

“It’s gruesome.”

“It’s not my thing.” He sat back and faced the screen. The light flickered on his face. “There’s so much more though.”

He’s putting the business end of a hairbrush in her anus.

I’ve never seen skin that shade of purple.

What is she eating?

In all of them, the submissive may have cried or screamed, but she always came back for more. She kissed the Dominant’s hand or looked at him admiringly. Her lips did a dance of gratitude.

Thank you.

Ten minutes in, I couldn’t hold my questions anymore. “Why are you showing me this? You don’t want to wrap me in duct tape.”

“Someone might. I want you to know what it looks like first.”

“Adam Steinbeck!” I stood and put my fists on my hips. “You fucking shit!”

He crossed his legs, shrugging as if it wasn’t his fault. He just worked here. “What?”

“You’re trying to scare me.”

“I’m trying to inform you.”

“To hell with this. I’m going out there right now and getting someone to fuck me with a wooden spoon.”

I stomped down the aisle. He grabbed my arm. I spun around to face him. Behind him, a woman was getting choked, and every time she breathed, the ecstasy on her face was unmistakable.

“Let go of me,” I growled.

“Look at it. You weren’t meant for this.”

But he was? But Serena was? Was I too good? Too weak? Too strong? None of that mattered.

“You love me. Say it, Adam.”

“I’m keeping the love I have left.”

“Why can’t you love a submissive?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t love weakness?” I asked.

“I said I don’t know.”

“You’re unworthy of a woman who would kneel for you?”

“What do you want out of me?”

He was hurting me. I jerked my arm away, and he let go.

“I want you to leave me for a reason. A real reason. I left you because I was unhappy. I thought we were incompatible. You’re leaving me because you asked me to submit to you and I love it. You’re leaving me because you love me a little but not enough. What is all that? It’s not a reason.”

“I’m protecting you!”

“You’re protecting you.”

_____________________________________

Begin the Games Duet with Marriage Games

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Marriage Games

The Games Duet – Book 1

By CD Reiss

Buy Links:

Amazon / Amazon UK / B & N / ITunes / Audible

Synopsis:

THIRTY DAYS

That’s all Adam Steinbeck demands of his wife.

Thirty days in a remote cottage, doing everything he demands. After that, he’ll sign her divorce papers and give her complete ownership of their company.

 

THIRTY DAYS

That’s how long he has to rediscover the man he once was. The Dominant Master he hid when he fell in love with her five years ago.

 

THIRTY DAYS

She wants the business they built badly enough to go to the cottage for a month. Cut off ties to the world and do his bidding. She can submit to him with her body, but her heart will never yield.

 

She thinks this is his pathetic attempt to repair their marriage.

 

She’s wrong.

__________________________________________________

 

 

About the Author:

CD Reiss Profile

CD Reiss is a USA Today bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up she’s at the well hauling buckets.

Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.

She’s frequently referred to as the Shakespeare of Smut which is flattering but hasn’t ever gotten her out of chopping that cord of wood.

If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.

Connect With Christine:

Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads | Instagram | Website

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + Review: Until Ashlyn by Aurora Rose Reynolds – Until Her Series

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Until Ashlyn

Until Her Series – Book 3

By Aurora Rose Reynolds

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK / B & N / IBooks / Kobo

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Synopsis

Dillon Keck knew Ashlyn Mayson was drunk when she suggested they get married. He knew he should have taken her back to their hotel room and put her to bed. Instead, he did what he had been craving to do since the moment they met.

 

Claim her as his.

 

Waking up married in Vegas isn’t something Ashlyn Mayson ever thought would happen to her. Having Dillon, her boss, a man she thinks is a dick, insist they stay married is absurd, but every time he touches her, she gets lost in him and wonders if maybe they are meant to be together.

 

But someone isn’t happy for Dillon and Ashlyn and their new found romance, and they’re willing to do anything to keep them apart. Even commit murder.

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Excerpt

Dedication

To every single person that believes in the BOOM

Chapter 1

Ashlyn

“Hey, Mom,” I greet, tucking my phone between my ear and shoulder as I shove another dress and matching heels into my suitcase. I smile while I do, because Dillon will likely flip his lid when he sees my choices in attire for the weekend, but there is not one damn thing he can do about it since we won’t be in the office. So technically, his stupid rules don’t apply.

“Are you all packed?”

“Almost,” I sigh, looking at the clock and realizing I only have ten minutes to finish before my cab is set to arrive. I wasn’t planning on going to Vegas for the dental convention, but Dillon insisted he needed me with him, and like an idiot, I agreed.

“Is Dillon picking you up?”

“No, I’m meeting him there. His flight left a couple hours ago.”

“Oh.” She lets out a defeated breath. “Is it just you and him going?”

“I hope so. I swear if the Wicked Witch shows up, I’ll sell her on the strip to the highest bidder, or pay someone to take her out to the desert and drop her off,” I grumble, digging under my bed for my tickler—just in case of an emergency.

“Call me if you need an alibi.” She laughs, and I smile, shaking my head, because I know she’s not lying; she would find a way to be my alibi if something happened.

“I’ll call,” I mutter, heading to the bathroom so I can gather my shower supplies.

“Dillon’s so nice,” she says quietly, and I grit my teeth.

Dillon is annoying, bossy, and… fine, he can be nice sometimes. Plus, he’s uber-hot, but I hate him. Okay, I don’t hate him… but I really, really want to.

“How long are you going to be gone for?” she questions, breaking into my internal rant.

“Just four days. My flight gets back Monday night around seven.”

“Promise you’ll call everyday and check in.”

“I’ll call or text,” I agree, grabbing my cosmetics case from under the bathroom cupboard, filling it with all of my makeup.

“Please try and have some fun while you’re there. Make Dillon take you out to a nice dinner or dancing.”

Snorting, I mutter, “Sure, Mom. I love you. I’ll message when I land.”

“Okay, honey, and don’t forget your dad and I leave Monday for Florida and we’ll be gone for three weeks.”

“I haven’t forgotten. Have fun, kiss Grandma and Grandpa, and tell Dad I love him.”

“Will do,” she promises softly before I hang up and shove my cell into my back pocket. Looking at the clock I let out a quiet curse, getting my ass in gear to finish packing so I don’t miss my flight.

~*~*~

 

Dragging my bag behind me toward the reception desk, I’m stunned by how many people are here wearing nametags stating they’re attending the dental convention. Dillon mentioned this weekend is one of the largest gatherings of dentists in the United States, but sheesh, this is crazy. Finally making it to the front of the line, I smile at the cutie behind the desk.

“How can I help you, gorgeous?” he inquires once I’m close, and I set my purse on the counter and pull out my ID, handing it over to him.

“Hi, I have a reservation.” I yawn, covering my mouth while I listen to the sound of slot machines going off in the distance. I love the slots—or penny slots to be exact, since I’m too chicken to play the real ones.

“I’m sorry, but there is no reservation under your name. Are you sure you’re staying with us?” he asks, handing me back my ID, and I frown.

“I’m positive. It may be under my boss’ name, Dillon Keck. He made the reservations,” I say, and he starts to type again then smiles.

“Got it. I see here that Mr. Keck has already checked in and requested we give you your own key to the suite upon arrival.”

“Uh… what?” I blurt, feeling something close to dread fill my stomach. “Are you saying he’s staying in that room too?”

“Yes, it’s a suite with two kings.”

“I don’t care how many kings are in the room. It’s one room. Right?” I panic, leaning half over the counter, trying to see his computer screen. “Please tell me you have another room available?”

“I’m sorry, but we’re completely booked. This is one of our busiest weekends of the year.”

“Of course it is.” I shake my head. “Can you recommend another hotel nearby?”

“Sorry, but I really doubt anywhere else has an opening.”

“Oh man… oh man,” I breathe, squeezing my eyes closed. “It’s not a big deal. You can share a room with him. You’re an adult, and it’s not like you even like him, right?” I whisper, balling my hands into fists.

“Um, so do you want me to get you your key?” Opening my eyes, I nod once and his face softens. “Call down and check. Sometimes we have people call off their reservations last minute. You never know. Something might open up between tonight and tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’ll call,” I agree, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this kind of karma as I wait there for the room key.

Standing in the hall outside the door to our room ten minutes later, I pause with my key card in my hand, not sure if I should knock or just go in. I seriously cannot believe Dillon booked us in a room together. Actually, I can believe it, because I think he gets off on annoying me.

“Screw it. It’s my room too,” I mutter to myself, shoving the key into the card reader, watching the light turn green. Pushing down on the handle, I turn, using my shoulder to hold the door open while I drag my suitcase into the room, fighting with its weight as the door closes, trapping it half way through.

“Shit!”

Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and almost fall on my ass when my eyes find Dillon standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, with a pair of boxers in his hand. His once long hair now short and wet, and a tattoo I didn’t know he had along his muscled ribs on his side.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe, turning quickly while attempting to shove my suitcase back out of the room. I totally did not need to know Dillon looks hotter without clothes than what my mind had made up, and believe me—my mind had unfortunately tormented me with thoughts of him naked many times.

“Christ, you’re a mess,” is muttered from behind me while a very strong arm wraps around my waist, lifting me off my feet, and my suitcase is tugged from my grasp. Before I know it, my suitcase and I are both in the room and the door closes with a soft hiss, trapping me inside.

“Please tell me you’re not still naked,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes closed, feeling his arm release me and his heat leave my back.

“I’m not naked.”

Opening my eyes, I close them again when I see he’s only got on a pair of form-fitting black boxers and nothing else. “Put some clothes on.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked man before.” He chuckles, and the sound of his laughter makes my teeth grind and my hands drop to my sides.

“I don’t want to see you naked.” I glare at him while he buttons up a pair of dark slacks that fit him perfectly.

“You could have avoided all of this if you had knocked.”

“Really?” I raise a brow. “You could have ‘avoided all this,’” I make air quotes, “and gotten me a separate room.”

“They messed up the reservation.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I feel my eyes narrow further.

“You should have called to tell me that, so I could have—”

“You would have avoided coming,” he cuts me off. “If you knew we were sharing a room, you would have found an excuse, and I need you with me this weekend.”

“Whatever,” I grumble, knowing he’s right. I would have canceled the trip if I knew we were sharing a room, even knowing that being here is a great way to build connections with other dentists. Especially, if I want to open my own practice in the future. “We need to set a few ground rules.” I cross my arms over my chest while I watch him walk across the room toward the bed near the window.

“Later.” He picks up a dark-blue, almost black, dress shirt and starts to put it on, which is unfortunate, because now that I’ve seen him shirtless, I’m thinking he should never cover up again.

“No, now,” I growl, annoyed with myself for being attracted to the dick.

“Later.” He holds my glare. “Right now, you need to get dressed. We have reservations in forty minutes.” He takes a seat on the side of the bed and starts to put on his shoes.

“What?” I look at the clock on the wall. It’s after seven at night and I’m exhausted. All I want to do is climb into bed, order room service, and watch some bad TV.

“We have a reservation in forty minutes,” he repeats, then stands. “The restaurant is twenty minutes away, so you have twenty minutes to get ready, unless you want to wear that.” He motions to my sweats, flip-flops, and hoodie. “I suggest you change.”

“I hate you.”

“So you say,” he says, just barely loud enough for me to hear, as he goes to the dresser, picking up his watch and putting it on.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I shake my head, pulling out my hair tie and running my fingers through my knotted hair.

“You may want to hurry.”

Holding his eyes for a minute, I give up my glare then drag my suitcase to the middle of the room and unzip it. After pulling out one of my favorite “going out” outfits along with my makeup bag, I go to the bathroom and try to slam the door closed, but it’s on one of those thingies that prevents me from doing that, which pisses me off even more.

“Stupid door. Stupid dick,” I mutter once the door is closed, then get to work on making myself look halfway decent.

Twenty minutes later, I look at my refection and lean forward, putting my face an inch from the mirror, and use my dark-red lipstick for the final touch on my dramatic makeup look. Since I didn’t have time to do anything with my hair, I brushed it out and put it up in a bun on top of my head then pulled out a few pieces to frame my face. Looking at my now blonde hair, I smile. I wasn’t sure I would like having blonde hair but Kim insisted it would look great on me, and she wasn’t wrong. Standing back, I place my hands on my hips and take myself in. My black sleeveless-top, with triangles cut out of the center of the chest and sides, is sexy but classy, and my red skin-tight pencil skirt, with its slit up the thigh, shows off just enough skin to draw attention while leaving everything to the imagination.

Slipping on my black, pointed-toe, four-inch pumps, I open the door to the bathroom, and mutter toward where I know Dillon is sitting, “Let me just change my purse and we can go.”

“You’re not wearing that.”

“Pardon?” I ask, pausing in my squatted position in front of my open suitcase to look at him.

“You’re not wearing that outfit. Go change.”

“I’m not changing.” I stand, moving to the desk so I can transfer what I need from my bag to my clutch. Hearing no reply, my eyes move to where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and I feel my skin warm up and butterflies take off in my stomach as our eyes lock and his darken.

Licking my lips that have suddenly gone dry, his eyes drop to my mouth and his jaw clenches. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He stands abruptly and moves past me out the room quickly, letting the door close behind him with a swoosh without another word.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask the door, gaining no reply—not that I need one. I know exactly what that was; I just have no idea what to do with it. Dillon has always acted professional with me. There has never been a time that I’ve seen him look at me like he’s interested, but the look in his eyes a moment ago was primal and not one an engaged man should give another woman, or a boss should give his employee, ever.

Shaking off the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, I finish changing out my bag then leave the room and make my way through the casino and into the lobby. Not finding Dillon inside, I head outside to the area the cabs and limos pick up and drop off, and spot him standing with a group of people. I’m not surprised he’s surrounded by a gaggle of women and a couple of men. He tends to draw attention wherever he goes, and it’s something else that annoys me. I hate being the center of attention, and I don’t really like people who need it to feel important. Needing a minute to get my head together, I stop a few feet away and tuck my clutch under my arm.

“Where you going, gorgeous? ‘Cause wherever it is, I’m there,” a drunk guy, who can’t be much older than twenty-one, slurs, stumbling up to me. His clothes are rumpled, his hair in disarray, and if he wasn’t such a mess, he’d be cute. But sadly, sloppy drunk works for no one.

Ignoring him, I untuck my purse, open it, and pull out my cell phone, knowing better than to engage with men like him in his current state.

“So you’re to good for me?” he slurs, snatching my cell out of my hand, and my eyes fly up.

“Give me my phone,” I say evenly, holding out my hand, and his eyes travel the length of me and his face scrunches up.

“Ho here thinks she’s too good for me.”

“Mike, come on. Give her the phone and let’s go,” someone says off to the side, but I keep my eyes on Mike, with my palm out toward him. My dad insisted I take martial arts with Jax when I was little. I hated it; I wanted to be a ballerina, not a ninja, but he was adamant about me being able to protect myself. Over the years, the skills I learned back then have come in handy, like now, when all I really want to do is kick the crap out of Mike but know better. One of the first things I was forced to learn was control, to never lose my temper. The second thing I learned was to keep my eyes on my enemy at all times. I was never really good at either, but I still got a black belt in the end.

“Mike,” I say softly, taking a step toward him. “I’m going to ask you nicely, once, to give me my phone. If you don’t, I swear to God I will unleash the Kraken, kick your ass in front of your friends, and send you home crying to your mother.”

Laughing, he looks around then his eyes widen as they move behind me. I really, really want to know what he’s looking at, but I refuse to turn my head and give in.

“Give her the phone.” The deep rumble of Dillon’s voice sends a chill down my spine. I’ve only heard him pissed a few times, and I know he’s pissed right now without even looking at him.

“I… I… w-was just playin’ man,” Mike stutters out, tossing my phone toward me. Missing my hands and causing my phone to crash to the ground, and my nostrils to flare as it shatters at my feet.

“Oh, shit. Oh, Christ. I’m sorry.” He drops to his knees and begins gathering the pieces of what used to be my phone then tries to get up, but falls face forward into my crotch, causing me to stumble back.

“I can’t believe this shit,” Dillon grumbles, catching me before I fall, then tugs me out of the way as Mike’s friends decide to finally step in and pick him up from the ground. “You had to wear that outfit.”

“You can not be serious right now?” I hiss, swinging my head back and finding him glaring down at me.

“Deadly.”

“Let me go.” I try to get free, but his hand on my waist tightens as his eyes leave mine. Swinging my head in the other direction, I find one of Mike’s friends standing a few feet away with my phone, looking anywhere but at us, and Mike off to the side, puking in a trashcan.

“Let me go,” I repeat, and his arm tightens for a moment before he finally lets me loose. I really want to scream or throw a fit, but instead, I calmly take my clutch and open it, holding it out toward the guy and letting him dump the now useless pieces inside. “You need to get him some Gatorade and toast,” I tell him, nodding toward Mike.

“Um, yeah sure. Than…” his words taper off, and the smile that was forming on his lips slides away as he looks over my shoulder. Rolling my eyes, I watch him turn quickly and go to Mike to help carry him away, feeling Dillon get close once more.

“Limo’s waiting,” he mutters, placing his hand against my lower back, making me tense.

“I’m not going.” I try to step away, but his hand slides around my waist, bringing my side into his middle.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he growls, leaning forward, close… way too close.

“Fine, you want me there? I’ll go, but just so you know, I plan on getting completely wasted, so you have just become my chaperone for the evening.”

“You’re not getting drunk.”

“Wasted, not drunk. And you better make sure I don’t do anything stupid.” I pat his chest, ignoring his flashing eyes. With that, I step out of his grasp and start toward the line of limos then turn to look over my shoulder at him, realizing I have no clue which one to go to.

Smirking, he crosses his arms over his chest and raises a brow. “What’s wrong, blondie? Confused?” His mocking tone and the look of triumph in his eyes does it. I turn on my heels and head to one of the limos with the driver standing outside leaning against it. The moment the driver spots me coming in his direction, his back leaves the car and his eyes rake over me, making my teeth snap together.

“Can I help you, Miss?”

“Ashlyn Mayson, get your ass back here,” Dillon snarls behind me, making my palm itch to smack him.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin. I thought you said this was our limo.” I fake pout, turning to look at him and tossing my head to the side for good measure.

“Christ, you drive me fucking insane.” He walks to where I’m standing, tagging my hand, and then starts to drag me with him, grumbling under his breath.

“You know all I want in this whole wide world is to make you happy, pumpernickel,” I whine, batting my lashes while watching his jaw tic.

Leading me toward another limo with a driver holding the back door open, he growls, “Behave.”

“I swear I’ll be your good girl from now on if you don’t spank me,” I stage-whisper, and his hand spasms in mine as a smirk forms on his lips.

“You don’t behave, I’ll bend you over and tan your ass right here.” His words ring through my ears, making my insides liquid, and then I hear the sound of a male chuckle as I’m gently forced into the back seat of the dark limo before I can reply.

“You’re such a jerk,” I hiss, adjusting my skirt as I move across the leather seats.

“You started the show we put on. I just ended it,” he mutters, sitting down across from me and unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“You started it with the whole ‘blondie’ thing.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him.

“Can we not do this tonight? Can we get along for one damn evening?”

“You tell me. I’m not the one who’s bossy and annoying all the damn time.”

“No, you’re just crazy.”

“Crazy?” I snort, and his lips twitch ever so slightly. “I’m not crazy.”

“Babe, you told that kid you were going to unleash the Kraken on him then went on to tell his friends to get him Gatorade and toast. You’re the definition of crazy.”

He may have a point, but instead of agreeing with him, I turn my head to look out the window and watch the city of Las Vegas slide by.

 

~*~*~

 

“Turn it off. Turn it off,” I croon sleepily as my hand sweeps out in the direction of the noise blaring from the alarm, missing it over and over as the beeping continues to torture me.

“Jesus, shut that shit off.” An arm comes from around me, and silence fills the room as my body freezes and my eyes spring open, only to close again when the room spins.

“Oh, God, why are you in my bed?” I hiss, trying to calm my stomach that feels like it’s getting ready to empty.

“You’re in my bed,” Dillon grumbles, sliding his arm around my waist, pulling my ass back into the crook of his thighs.

“Why am I in your bed?” I breathe as bits and pieces from last night flash through my mind, and none of them are good. None of them at all.

“You wanted to cuddle.” He buries his face in my neck then moves his hand up to cup my breast. I know I don’t have any clothes on when I feel the hair from his thighs tickle mine and his finger runs over my nipple. Oh, God. A memory of me telling him we have so much in common while we both got naked for bed fills my mind, and then another one pops in and my hand flies up to my face.

I force my eyes open, trying to focus, and see it there—the small, plain, white-gold band from the memory of him sliding it on my finger.

“We got married?” I shout, pulling his hand from my breast.

“We got married,” he agrees, not sounding upset, but instead, almost proud.

“Oh shit!” I fly out of the bed and trip over our clothes scattered across the floor, feeling him catch me right before I land on my face.

“Ash, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? Are you insane? We got married last night. Married, Dillon. I got married to a man who is engaged to another woman!” I yell, then cover my mouth. “Oh, God, I’m going to hell. I’m so going to hell for this.”

“I’m not engaged,” he says calmly, giving me a shake.

“I know your fiancée!” I screech, attempting to get away from him, only to have him hold me tighter.

“I’m not fucking with Isla. Now stop with the crazy.”

“You’re not with her?” I stop, and he runs a hand through his hair.

“No,” he states, holding my stare, and my body uncoils just slightly.

“Fine, I’m not going to hell.” I move away from him and resume pacing. “We need to find an attorney. I saw loads of advertisements on the strip. We’ll get one and get this taken care of. It’s no big deal. People get married in Vegas everyday then get divorced. We will just be one of the ninety percent,” I ramble while pacing.

“We are not getting an annulment.”

“Annulment, right.” I snap my fingers. “That’s even better. No one has to know about this.”

“Listen to me.” He grabs onto my shoulders, giving me a shake, and my eyes focus on his. “We are not getting an annulment, or divorced. We got married and are staying that way.”

“Oh, God, you were drugged.” I rest my hands against his chest and drop my voice, “Don’t worry. We’ll go to the hospital and they’ll give you something. Once you’re better, this will all be taken care of.”

“Jesus Christ.” He rubs his hands down his face, tilting his head back to look toward the ceiling. “I’m married to a nut.”

“Hey, that’s not nice.” I plant my hands on my hips. His head drops, his eyes scan the length of me, and I realize I’m naked… that we’re both completely naked. “Dillon.” I take a step back when his eyes meet mine, and his arms swing toward me. “What are you doing?” I shriek, sidestepping him, only to stumble onto the bed, where I attempt to roll. But he flips me to my back, his giant body moving between my legs, and his hands pin my wrists to the mattress over my head. Panting, I look up into his beautiful blue eyes.

“We are not getting a divorce,” he snarls, leaning down so his face is mere centimeters from mine.

“Be rational.” I lift my hips and my arms, trying to throw him off. “You’re obviously on—”

Before I can say more, his head descends and his mouth is covering mine, stealing my breath along with my soul. The feel of his lips, the taste of him on my tongue, ignites something deep inside of me, and I kiss him back with everything I am. Ripping my mouth from his, I pant, “Please let me go.”

“No.” The word sounds almost primal, and I lean up, placing my mouth back against his.

“Please, I want to touch you.”

Groaning, his hands release my wrists, and my palms fly to his chest and slide up and over his shoulders, pulling him closer to me as my legs wrap around the back of his thighs. He kisses me again, this time using his tongue and teeth to torture me in the most beautiful way possible.

“How is it possible you taste as good as you look?” he questions, pulling back, but I have no answer for him. He tastes amazing and having him covering me, his hardness pressing against my softness, is making my brain short-circuit. Palming my breast, he slides his thumb over my nipple, causing my hips to jerk forward. Rolling us again, he settles me on top of him, palms both my breasts, and then leans up, pulling my right nipple into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. “When did you get these?” he questions, flicking the tip with his tongue.

“When I was thirteen.” I smile, and he smiles back then moves to my other breast, doing the same, only sucking harder, almost punishing.

“When?” he asks again, and I know he’s asking about my nipple piercings. I got them with my cousin April a few years back. I wanted a piercing, but needed to be able to look professional to the outside world, so I got both my nipples done with simple, almost elegant-looking gold barbells.

“Three years ago,” I breathe as he tweaks the tiny piece of metal.

“Before me.”

“What?” I try to focus, but every time he touches me, my body gets hotter and my focus depletes. Grabbing my hips, he tugs me forward, dragging my wet center along his length.

“Soaked.” He nips my nipple then wraps his hand into the hair at the back of my head, taking control of my movements as he pulls my mouth to his and thrusts his tongue between my lips. Lost in his kiss and the feel of him between my legs, so close to where I need and want him, I squeak when he flips us over and slides down my body, not giving me a chance to think as his mouth covers me.

“Dillon.” My hands move through his hair and my hips lift off the bed, offering myself up to him without thinking about anything but the way his tongue, lips, and teeth feel as he fucks me with his mouth. “Oh, God. Oh, God, I’m going to come,” I pant, feeling my toes curl into the bedding and my hands grip his hair. The touch of his finger rimming just the inside of my entrance sends me over, shouting his name as I go.

Feeling him kiss my inner thigh then my belly, over my breasts then shoulder, I come back to myself lazily.

“Tell me you want me.” Looking into my eyes while his hand moves between my legs and his fingers slide though my folds, I know I’ll give him anything. “Tell me you want me as badly as I want you.”

“I want you,” I hiss, feeling the very large head of his cock at my entrance, and then watch his eyes drop between us before my eyes do the same, and I know I need to tell him. “I—”

Oh, God, too late… way too late. I bite my lip as he fills me, stretching me.

“Tight, so goddamn tight.” He pushes in farther and his jaw clenches.

“Hold on. Please, hold on,” I breathe, and his body stills above me as his eyes search mine.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just need a minute.” I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling like an idiot.

“Baby.” His fingers slide along my jaw and cheekbone, into my hair. “Do you want to stop?” he asks gently, making tears sting my nose.

“God, no.” He feels good, so good. But he’s huge, way bigger than any of my toys. “You’re just big. So big.” I wiggle my hips and he hisses out a breath, grabbing my waist.

“Don’t say that shit when I’m inside of you,” he groans, dropping his forehead to mine.

“I have to tell you something, but please don’t be mad.”

“Christ, what now?” He pulls back, gritting his teeth.

“Stop being a jerk and let me talk.” I smack his shoulder and he looks down at me, thrusting in another inch.

“Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“What?” I moan, wrapping my legs around his hips as he slides in a little more.

“If it’s going to piss me off, I don’t want to know.” He slides out then back in, and my back arches off the bed as his thick cock fills every inch of me.

“You’re such a dick!” I cry out as he tosses my leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrust.

“I don’t give a fuck about that either.” He drops his mouth, covering mine and stealing my reply—not that I have time to think about that as his mouth leisurely travels down my neck to my breast, which he pulls and sucks until I’m once again shouting his name and hearing mine groaned from his lips as we both come.

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4 Star

Michel’s Review

The Mayson Boom has struck once again.  This time the Boom was a slow build to a massive romantic explosion and defied the Mayson Alpha Daddies commands.  Cash Mayson’s darling little princess went to Vegas and came home a married woman.  It didn’t matter that he and Lily liked her perspective Alpha husband.  Dr. Dillion Keck stole his little girl without apology or regret.  A man has to respect the man who has the guts and the nerve to defy the Mayson law and follow his heart.

Ashlyn Mayson could not stand her gorgeous, sexy boss.  He ruled the practice with absolute power and complete control.  When he demands she attend a dental convention in Vegas with him, she’s determined to have a good time just to spite him.  What she didn’t count on was having “too good of a time” and ending up married after a drunken night.  Returning home a married woman is going to send her family into a tizzy.  Being married to Dr. Dick might be a nightmare or it may be what dreams are made of.  Ashlyn is suddenly seeing a different side to the man she married.  Sure he’s a pure alpha male just like her daddy but he is also a man with a heart of gold.  Being Mrs. Keck might not be too bad.

Ashlyn thought facing her family after her sudden marriage was the worst thing that could happen when she returned home.  As difficult as that seemed to be there were other things brewing that made her marriage look like a walk in the park.  Now she has to deal with Dillion’s crazy ex fiancé, new in laws, and someone who wants her dead.  As if a new marriage wasn’t enough on her plate.  Thank goodness she married an alpha man that will always protect her.

The release of Until Ashlyn by Aurora Rose Reynolds was perfectly timed during the holiday season.  Reading this book was like catching up with old friends and family.  It can be read as a stand alone novel but I would highly suggest reading The Until Series, the Until Her series, and the Until Him series first.  I believe readers will enjoy this book more if they are familiar with the Mayson family and all the characters in their lives.

Another great BOOM from Aurora Rose Reynolds!

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aurora rose reynolds

About Aurora Rose Reynolds

aurora rose reynoldsAurora Rose Reynolds is a navy brat who’s husband served in the United States Navy. She has lived all over the country but now resides in New York City with her Husband and pet fish. She’s married to an alpha male that loves her as much as the men in her books love their women. He gives her over the top inspiration everyday. In her free time she reads, writes and enjoys going to the movies with her husband and cookie. She also enjoys taking mini weekend vacations to nowhere, or spends time at home with friends and family. Last but not least she appreciates everyday and admires it’s beauty.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Release Blitz: Face- Off At The Alter by Toni Aleo

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Face-Off At The Alter

The Assassins Series

By Toni Aleo

Buy: Amazon / B & N / IBooks / Kobo / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

Synopsis

Markus Reeves is sucking. Big-time. Toiling away on a minor-league hockey team hundreds of miles away from home, he’s watching his dreams of an NHL career fade away. Add in the lingering guilt he has over the dramatic demise of his relationship with college girlfriend, Mekena, and he’s a mess on and off the ice.

But the family of his heart, the Sinclairs, won’t let Markus suffer any longer. When he arrives himself back in Nashville for a trial run on the Assassins, it feels like his life may be making a turn for the better. If only he could get Mekena to forgive him…

Mekena Preston has been hurting since fleeing Nashville following the horror of Markus’s betrayal with her sister. Now a professional photographer, Mekena finds herself in the same place at the same time with Markus to celebrate Lucy and Benji Paxton’s wedding. Neither of them has been able to move on—and they’re starting to wonder if they really want to.

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They’re headed for a face-off at the altar unless they can confront their past and unearth the truth about what really happened on that fateful night.

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Excerpt

Watching as Elli crossed the ice, saying hi to everyone she passed, Mekena knew she had to go. Standing, she wobbled a lot, but she still made it to the entry to the ice. She could do this. It wasn’t that hard. Just like walking—on water. No big deal.
Oh, God, she was going to die, and everyone was going to see it.
Swallowing hard, she stepped out on the ice and figured she could ride the side of the boards to him. Elli was already there, gushing over the kids and kissing all over the guy Mekena assumed was her nephew. And holy hot genes. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a jawbone that could slice the ice. He was beautiful, just like his uncle and his momma. Tall, too, and thick. Obviously a hockey player. That should have given her a little more confidence to skate over there, but instead, her fingers dug into the siding as she slowly made her way toward them.
When Elli looked up, Mekena let go of the sides and waved. “I’m a little slow. I’m coming!”
Elli said something to Ryan, whose eyes lit up when he looked over at her. As he detangled himself from the kids that were trying to climb him like a wall, she figured he was coming to help.
Oh, no, that was embarrassing.
No, she could skate. She had it!
Letting go of the siding, she went with ease. And at first, things were good. She was skating! But as well as it was going, it suddenly went very bad. She felt her knee bend funny and then her body start to fall. And as the ice came into view, she let out a cry, waiting for the ice to break not only her glasses but her nose too. Maybe her teeth.
But she didn’t fall.
No, instead, someone had her by her hips, pulling her up and to her feet.
“Whoa there, girlie. I thought you knew what you were doing?”
Markus.
Everything inside her went hot. Not from embarrassment but from pure, burning desire. Trying to catch her breath, she looked up at him, his eyes so dark, his mouth so close to her cheek as he smiled.
Crap. Crap on a cracker.
“Markus.”
“Yup, it’s me,” he said, grinning as he stood her on her feet. “Saving your life.”

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About the Author

 

My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

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Release Blitz: Hate Story by Nicole Williams

 

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 img_1701Hate Story

By Nicole Williams

Release Date: December 26, 2016

Buy: Amazon / B & N / IBooks / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU

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Nina can’t let herself fall in love with the man she’s going to marry. Both of them have experienced the sting and sham of love and have no intentions of falling victim to it twice. Love is expensive—hate is free.

Three years. A million dollars. A solution to both of their problems. They planned it all, from the story of their first meeting to the date of their divorce. Nothing could go wrong.

But what they didn’t consider was chemistry, and Nina and Max have no shortage of it. After too many near-kisses, Nina convinces herself that hating Max is better than loving him, and the more she gets to know this soon-to-be-husband of hers, the more she discovers just how very much she truly, madly, and deeply . . . hates him.

This isn’t a love story. This is the other kind.

 

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  Excerpt

“Okay. So how do you think this is going?” Max tipped the broom handle between us. “You and me?”
My forehead pinched together. “You and me the plan? Or you and me the surprise?”
Max’s brow answered my question.
“And this topic is what you consider not-so-deep?” I nudged him and moved to finish stocking syrups.
“All I’m looking for is a simple estimation. Since we were just talking about school, give us a grade for how you think this is going.”
“A grade? Like A, B, C, D, F?”
“Exactly like that.”
I shook my head. “Did you have a rough day at work today? Lose an Olympic-size swimming pool of money or something? Are you needing your daily ego stroking to come from somewhere else today?” When I glanced back at him, I found Max leaning into the door he’d relocked, arms crossed and waiting.
“Our relationship is unique,” he said. “Intricate. I’m asking not because I need my ego stroked, but because I care. If I need to make some changes, I’m willing to. Anything you need, whatever you want, that’s what I’ll give you. But first, I have to know how I’m doing.”
If a man could get a woman pregnant from a piercing stare and a collection of words, I’d just gotten myself good and knocked up. With twins.
“You know how it’s going,” I said, trying to focus on the syrups instead of what—or who—I wanted to focus on.
“I know how I think it’s going. I’d like to know how you think it’s going.”
My mouth went a little dry. Having these kinds of talks was hard for anyone—they were next to impossible for me. “Well, you haven’t gone and confessed your undying love or scared the hell out of me by asking me to be your baby mama, so you’re keeping your promise to take it nice and slow.” When he gave a mini bow, I rolled my eyes. “Not to mention you aren’t too shabby in the sack, you don’t leave dirty dishes in the sink, and you share the remote well.”
Max’s face went flat. “Not too shabby?”
“Oh, please. You know how good you are. Stop fishing for compliments.” A flush crept up my neck as I thought of the most recent evidence to support that theory.
A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. “I want a grade.”
“Like comprehensive? Or broken down by category?” I was stalling, and Max knew I was stalling.
“You’re making this way too difficult,” he grumbled.
“An A minus,” I said abruptly. “I’d give you an A minus.”
“Why not an A plus?”
I kept my head turned so he couldn’t see my smile. Only Max Sturm would be outraged by an A minus. “Because there’s always room for improvement. And I wouldn’t want it to go to your head, that’s why not an A plus.”
The door creaked when he shoved off of it. He made no move to tame the way he was checking me out, leaning into the counter as I organized the syrups. “Something’s definitely going to my head.”
My gaze roamed his zipper region. “I was talking about the one north of your neck.”
“And I’m talking about the one at the end of my dick. My, at present, hard dick, thanks to you.” He came up behind me, fitting himself against my backside as his hands moved around to work on my jeans.
“Max,” I protested, my eyes closing a second later when his dick nuzzled deeper into my backside.
“Nina. I’m taking your body. Here. Now.” His chest pressed into my back as he lowered my zipper. “Accept that so we can move on to the next part.”

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4887264Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.

Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.

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New Release + 2016 Favorite: For All The Evers by Debra Anastasia

 

 

Title: For All the Evers
Author: Debra Anastasia
Genre: Romance
Release Date: December 18, 2016
Blurb

Fallen Billow should be in college like most of her friends, but instead she’s raising her brother and working as a housekeeper at a vintage local hotel. It’s back-breaking work, but not nearly as challenging as fending off unwanted advances from the hotel’s owner.Thomas McHugh is fighting for our country, across the globe and decades before Fallen Billow was even born. So there’s no way they’re soul mates. There’s no way he can be desperate to see her, hold her, kiss her. Except there is.Is it a dream when he inks his name on her skin? Is it a delusion when she puts her hands on his face and says she loves him? Nothing has ever felt more real.

Fate has etched paths for Thomas and Fallen that even time cannot touch. A Purple Heart proclaims Thomas’ valor and bravery. And his death. But Fallen dares to dream of the impossible. She wants Thomas to stay. Just stay.

A tribute to all who have served our country, this novel honors the impossible beauty of love and the endless power of hope. Come open your heart and celebrate the many facets of bravery with Fallen and Thomas.

Debra Anastasia has created a
website for Thomas McHugh – the veteran the book is in honor of.
(It is recommended readers look at this website after reading the book)

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Available in Kindle Unlimited
Trailer
Excerpt

“I bet you were adorable.” He put his knuckle under her chin and encouraged her to lift her head. She rolled back over and settled against his shoulder.“I don’t want to be adorable. I want to be impossible.”

“How do you mean?” He kissed her forehead.

“I want to be impossible for you to forget, impossible for you to keep your hands off of.” She leaned up for a kiss.

“You’re my impossible then. Have no fear.” He tenderly reminded her he was her impossible, too, with his lips.

She put her hand against his stomach and snuggled in. “This is my spot. Right here. With you—it’s home.”

He swallowed before talking to the ceiling. “My heart was like a fist. Where I am? It’s not a place you plan to survive. I’ve been there for years, and it’s not about skill; it’s not even about luck. You get strapped into a machine, and fate’s driving. You can’t get out even if you want to. So you submit to it. You harden your soul. You get ready to die.”

He shifted, rolling on top of her. She sighed in contentment. Being beneath him made her feel safe and secure.

He kissed her lips, then the tip of her nose, before continuing. “But with you, it’s like my heart’s opening up, and I’m terrified to feel, after all this time. Yet I don’t have a choice. No matter where I am, I draw your face whenever I get a scrap of paper.”

He laughed a little. “We found a puppy, and I named it Fallen, just so I could say your name over and over. The guys think I’m crazy—such a strange name for a dog. But I don’t care. I’m gasping for you every moment I’m awake. And I’m making choices to keep me alive through the week.”

His eyes searched hers. “What if I’m not as tough as I was in the beginning? God, I hope no one is affected by my distraction with this. But in the end there’s you. Only you. Do what you have to to get back to me when you’re awake. You have to. I need you more than air, more than life right now. The softness of you, the tenderness in your eyes when you see me. I’m trying to force fate to throw me in your direction. To hurl me at you somehow. I don’t know if it will work. But I’m praying for it.”

Fallen touched his face, then his neck. “I will do everything I can to find you.”

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SBJ2016Favorite

5Star+

Michel’s Review

A few months ago a fellow book junkie and I were having a discussion about our favorite authors.  Debra Anastasia was one that popped up on both of our list.  As the discussion about Debra’s books became more detailed, we realized that Debra was one that stood out among our favorites.  She has a special gift with creating compelling characters that are outside of the norm in most romance novels.  Each one of her novels is completely different and stands on it’s own merit.  It cannot be compared to anything.  Debra not only creates compelling characters with very unique stories, she also adds a range of emotional moments infused with humor, compassion, and honesty.  Her creativity has left readers enthralled with their reading experience.  Who else could create a charismatic homeless guy, a lovable ruthless crime lord, a saintly priest with an inner tiger, a blogger held hostage by a farting bad guy, a super mommy exacting revenge, and panty dropping pharmacist? This time around Debra has really dug deep and delivered a story that is not only personal for her but gives an unfinished hero his happily ever after in a very unique way. After reading  For All The Evers, I was in awe of Debra’s writing talent.

***

For All The Evers by Debra Anastasia may be considered a paranormal romance or a time travel romance.  It really didn’t fit quite right in either category.  It was in a class by itself.  The hero, Thomas McHugh, was a veteran who perished in WWII.  The heroine, Fallen Billow, was a modern day young woman struggling to make ends meet in a very dysfunctional family.  Their romance was defined by the dream world and Room 514 at the hotel where Fallen worked.  To add to the mystic, Fallen’s boss, who is all kinds of scary and sexually harasses her at work, is able to stalk her in the dream world.  Her dream world is colliding with the real world.  The only friends she has is two old ladies from very different era’s and experiences.

***

Fallen and Thomas find a love they never expected.  They know that their relationship is realistically doomed.  Their worlds will never be fused together. The seventy year difference is not the only thing in the way of their happily ever after.  Fate has already played her card, Thomas died in the war.

***

Their worlds are out of sync and their hearts beat as one.

***

I will not say much more because this is a book that must be read and experienced personally.  The one thing I will say is that Thomas McHugh was a real man who died a hero in WWII.  He was Debra’s great uncle.  She shared him with the world.  She made him timeless.

Green old wooden door opening with light shining through and red rose hanging from an old key

Green old wooden door opening with light shining through and red rose hanging from an old key

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Author Bio

Debra creates pretend people in her head and paints them on the giant, beautiful canvas of your imagination. What an amazing job that is. The stories hit her hard while driving the minivan or shaving her legs, especially when there’s no paper and pen around. In all of the lies she writes she hides her heart, so thank you for letting it play in your mind.Debra has now published the Seraphim Series, the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood Series, the Gynazule Series, The Revenger and Booty Camp Dating Service. Her novella, Late Night with Andres is special because 100% of the proceeds go to breast cancer research. (So go get it right now, please!) For All The Evers is her latest romantic suspense.

You can find her at DebraAnastasia.com and on Twitter @Debra_Anastasia. But be prepared…

Author Links

 

There is a giveaway for signed paperback of For All the Evers and Saving Poughkeepsie, signed hand crafter holiday ornaments, Booty Camp Dating Service ring, Poughkeepsie lip balm and cardboard keychain, and XL One More Chapter t-shirt

 

Excerpt Reveal: One Careful Owner by Jane Harvey-Berrick

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One Careful Owner
By Jane Harvey-Berrick
Release Date: January 2, 2017
Pre Order: Amazon
 
Synopsis 

“Take me, all of me, broken and in pieces, or say to hell with me.”

WARNING!
This book will break your heart!
From the best-selling romance author of THE EDUCATION OF SEBASTIAN comes a sexy, heart-breaking and heart-warming story about one man and his dog. (Standalone)

* * * * *

Alex is lost and alone, with only his dog, Stan for company. He doesn’t expect kindness from anyone anymore, but sometimes hope can be found in the most unlikely places. He has a second chance at happiness, but there’s a dark side to Alex, and a reason that more than one person has called him crazy.

Single mother Dawn is doing just fine. Except that her ex- is a pain in the a**, her sister isn’t speaking to her, and her love life is on the endangered list.

At least her job as a veterinarian is going well. Until a crazy-looking guy arrives at her office accompanied by an aging dog with toothache. Or maybe Alex Winters isn’t so crazy after all, just … different.

Dawn realizes that she’s treated him the same way that all the gossips in town have treated her—people can be very cruel.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33001549-one-careful-owner

Contains scenes of an adult nature.

This is a standalone novel with no cliff-hanger.

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Releasing January 2nd, 2017
99¢ pre-order, a limited time promotion
 
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 Excerpt

Tanner’s hooves kicked up small spirals of dirt as he ambled through the forest, picking his own path. It was peaceful and a deep sense of calm spread through me. It had been too long since I’d come out for an early morning ride. I rarely had the chance anymore—life always seemed to get so busy.
Even though it wasn’t more than half-an-hour after sunrise, humidity was beginning to climb. I felt sweat trickle down my back and armpits, but I didn’t care. It was too beautiful out here to worry about anything.
The lake’s surface was quiet, stretching glassily toward the horizon, and I watched the tiny ripples reach the muddy bank as lazy clouds drifted across the sky.
As I rode into the small clearing, the quality of the light changed from the deep green of the forest to the soft glow of the rising sun.
I breathed deeply, enjoying the muted sounds and sense of being utterly alone. It was a rare moment to be carefree.
But as Tanner neared the lake, I spotted a bundle of old rags on the ground. God, I hated that! How could people toss their trash somewhere so beautiful? Sadly, I was used to seeing discarded bottles, cans and sandwich wrappers on the trails.
I was going to pick them up and dump them in the garbage at home, so I dismounted and poked my riding crop through them. But they weren’t rags exactly—instead, I found a tattered pair of jeans, a faded t-shirt and a washed-out plaid shirt.
That was odd. Who would have left them here? Someone camping maybe? I sighed wearily and picked up the clothes. I hated people littering in this beautiful forest.
Suddenly, Tanner shifted next to me and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I had the unpleasant sensation of being watched, and when I looked up, my breath stuttered in my throat.
A man was standing in the lake, waist-deep in the water, and he was glaring at me. Instinctively, I tightened my grip on Tanner’s reins.
“Oh, crap! You startled me!”
He didn’t reply, and his icy stare made me nervous.
He was a big man, tall and strong, with broad shoulders and clearly defined muscles. His unkempt beard was thick, and long tangled hair matted against his skull—he looked like one of the fabled Mountain Men.
He made no attempt to speak and his eyes narrowed as anger rolled from him in heavy waves.
I swallowed nervously and took a step back, but then my heel caught in a pile of leaves, and I dropped the clothes I’d been carrying.
He glared, his lips peeled back so he was baring his teeth.
It took everything in me to keep calm while I mounted. Tanner’s large presence was a huge comfort. I borrowed him from my employer and he was usually a skittish horse, but right now he stood happily chomping on grass and ignoring the stand-off.
“I’m going now,” I said weakly, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Yes, I’m riding away.”
The continued silence was unnerving, but at least he hadn’t come any closer. I began to wonder if he understood English.
Close up, he seemed younger than I’d first thought. His hair was dark blonde, his beard a light brown tinged with red. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were from this distance. Maybe he was Eastern European?
Finally, the man spoke.
“M-m-mine.”
I blinked, surprised.
“What?”
He screwed his eyes shut, took a slow breath and tried again.
“M-m-mine!”
I stared back, not having a clue what he was talking about, then my eyes dropped to the pile of clothes on the ground.
“Oh, these are yours?”
He scowled at me, folding his arms across his chest. His body language was screaming at me to leave, but otherwise he was silent, menacing, and that scared me more.
My eyes followed the movement of his arms as he clamped them across his body, the biceps bulging, an unspoken warning that this man was bigger and stronger than me, and that I was alone in the forest, miles from help.
At least he wasn’t coming closer.
Then my eyes dipped to the waterline rippling at his waist.
“Oh!”
My eyes widened with the realization that he was completely naked. The water was clear enough that I’d seen everything. And I mean everything. As I glanced up, shocked, he met my gaze, raising an eyebrow suggestively, the implication that I’d been checking him out. I shot him a filthy look, jerking the reins to get Tanner moving.
“You’re trespassing on private property,” I snapped over my shoulder, just to show I wasn’t really completely terrified. “You should leave.”
His lips twisted in a sneer and he took half a pace toward me, his demeanor threatening.
Sensing his mounting fury, I rode away. I’d get the hell out of here and let Dan know that a crazy guy was camping illegally. I urged Tanner to go faster, only looking back once to make sure that the man wasn’t following. But he was still standing in the lake, watching me.

My early morning ride left me completely shaken, and I hated feeling so vulnerable. So I was in a foul mood by the time I got to work at Petz Pets, and Ashley’s shrill voice was like a jack hammer in my head.
I tried to ignore her endless description of a new pair of shoes that were to die for apparently, while I quietly phoned my friend Dan, who also happened to be Girard’s police officer, telling him about the crazy guy at the lake. Then I had to listen to Ashley for half an hour, catching me up on all the gossip that I’d ‘missed’ over the weekend. Mostly it consisted of who’d slept with whom, who was having an affair, and how many Cosmopolitans she’d drunk.
I was trying not to listen, but it was impossible to ignore her piercing tone.
“Oh, that’s so sad!” she said suddenly, her voice falling for a moment.
“What is?”
“Mrs. Humphries emailed to ask if we’ve seen Missy.”
Missy—a two year-old black-and-white ball of fur with wicked long claws, as I knew from painful experience. She was also pregnant the last time I’d seen her and the kittens were due any day. Come to think of it, I’d expected to hear from Mrs. Humphries before now.
“When did she last see her?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“She’s probably making a safe place to have her kittens. Tell Mrs. Humphries to check all her neighbors’ outbuildings and any other places that she thinks Missy might go to. She won’t have gone far.”
Ashley frowned.
“Mrs. Humphries is out by the State Game Lands. She doesn’t have many neighbors.”
I shivered, recalling the scary homeless man I’d encountered. I wondered if Dan would have a chance to check into it today.
Ashley typed something, muttering under her breath and chewing on the inside of her mouth.
“Oh, you’re going to love this,” she cackled as she worked her way through the overnight messages and today’s calendar. “A new client has emailed to make an appointment. That’s weird—people usually phone. Jeez, he’s sent me his dog’s entire life story! Whatever, but get this—he only wants a male veterinarian.”
I glanced up, frowning. “Seriously?”
“Yep. I had to read his message twice to check I wasn’t seeing things. And guess what? His address is Tanglewood. He must be the one who bought Old Joe’s cabin—you know, the place Bob Delaney was going to buy and develop. What do you want me to do?”
I was surprised. I didn’t know that Bob had wanted to buy the place, but it made sense since he owned the adjoining property along the lake. Sort of. Joe had never minded me riding over his land, but I knew for a fact that Bob wouldn’t like it. Mostly because he hated me. And as for Stella’s opinion of me … I didn’t want to think about that.
I’d ridden past Old Joe’s cabin many times. It was a dreary, depressing place, dank and dark and falling apart, deep in the woods. The kind of place you could imagine in a horror movie, except for its location by the lake, which was beautiful.
I gazed at Ashley, constantly amazed by the random information she had rattling around in her head. The FBI needed her on their team.
I redirected my thoughts back to the question. “Does Gary have any slots this afternoon?”
Gary was our chief veterinarian and also owned the business. He was good with prickly customers.
“Yes, three o’clock.”
“Problem solved.”
Ashley gave me an overly-dramatic look of astonishment.
“It doesn’t bother you that the new client is a sexist asshole?”
Yes, the request was irritating, but Ashley was something of a drama queen and I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Not my concern,” I answered, giving a firm look that bounced right off her.
“I’d be pissed as all hell because he obviously doesn’t think women can be vets,” she said, not willing to let it drop.
I tuned her out after that, instead prepping the examination room and reading through my list of patients for the day.
Then our first customer arrived, a West Highland Terrier with eczema, and I didn’t think about the new client again until after lunch when Gary got an emergency callout to a valuable stud animal with a suspected fractured tibia.
Ashley gave me a wide smile as Gary’s Jeep disappeared in a cloud of dust and gravel.
“So … since Gary has been called away … are you going to see this new client? The sexist asshole?”
I sighed, but tried not to look too irritated as I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just after 2.45PM so she might be able to catch the new client before he left his house.
“Call him and explain what’s happened. If he wants to see me, that’s fine, otherwise reschedule an appointment with Gary.”
She picked up her phone and started to place the call, but stopped suddenly.
“Too late,” she said, jerking her thumb at a battered pickup truck that had pulled into the parking lot.
I turned to look, but for a minute, there was no movement and I began to wonder if the new arrival would ever leave his truck. Finally, I saw the driver’s door swing open and a man jumped out. For some reason, I’d expected an older guy to be the sexist new client, but judging from the way he moved, I was wrong.
In fact, I could see that he was tall and muscular and … then I recognized him.
It was the man from the lake. The naked man who’d scared the crap out of me. I’d been thoroughly rattled seeing him this morning. Being alone with him had made me realize again how vulnerable I was riding by myself and I’d decided to rethink my regular route.
But now I was facing him for a second time. He still reminded me of a Mountain Man, and he appeared to be wearing the clothes that I’d thought were rags. His long, shaggy brown hair and thick beard hid most of his face. A shudder of apprehension ran through me.
He seemed just as ill at ease as he had been by the lake, his eyes darting around restlessly, but then he walked around to the passenger door and I lost sight of him.
When he reappeared, he was carrying a large dog, one that easily weighed 80 or 90 pounds. He must have been strong because he carried the weight easily. I recalled the thick slabs of muscle that sculpted his chest and arms when I’d seen him earlier. Yes, there was no doubt that he was strong, but as he held his pet, his hands were gentle.
I watched his chin bob, and I realized that he was talking to his dog.
Carefully, he set the animal on the ground and fixed a leash around its neck.
The dog immediately sat down and refused to budge. His coat was thick and looked glossy and healthy, his muzzle starting to gray. I guessed he was part retriever, part mastiff—large and solid. And heavy.
Ashley giggled as the man tugged on the leash, but the dog still wouldn’t move. The man stood still, looking at his pet, his hands on his hips, then he shook his head in defeat. Bending down, he scooped up the dog again and shouldered his way through the door into the office.
Now he was closer, I could study him in more detail.
His hair was a tangle of light brown with sun-blond lights, still uncombed, an off-putting mess of wild, crazy curls. His clothes were even worse now I could see him wearing them, unkempt and torn as if he’d given up, but they were clean. And when he stopped in front of Ashley, I caught the faint scent of soap and laundry detergent—no cologne. This man was a paradox.
Ashley smiled tightly from her position behind the reception desk.
“Mr. Winters and Stan, is that right?”
He nodded but didn’t speak, still holding his dog in his arms. His face was grim, as if he’d never smiled, never thought of smiling.
So this was the man who’d bought Old Joe’s place? I immediately felt guilty that I’d assumed he was trespassing and camping illegally. I didn’t know that somebody had already moved into the property. Technically, I’d been the interloper this morning. I felt like such a judgmental bitch. But he’d really scared me, and I hadn’t been thinking clearly.
“I’m so sorry,” Ashley said with fake sweetness, “but Dr. Petz, our male veterinarian, had to go out on an emergency visit. Dr. Andrews over there is available.”
He turned to stare at me and his body stiffened. I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor again. I thought for sure that he’d turn and walk out, but then he glanced at his dog and I saw the expression soften in his curious golden-brown eyes as he peered up at me and nodded slowly.
“Great!” said Ashley, her gaze glancing across to me. “I’ve got basic information from your email, but if you could just fill out this form and…”
“Maybe you’d like to bring Stan into the examination room, Mr. Winters,” I interrupted quickly. “He looks rather heavy.”
The man blinked twice, but carried the dog inside without commenting or even looking at Ashley.
“Rude!” Ashley said, not quietly enough, and although I agreed, I shot her a look and took the form from her.
She leaned toward me, her eyes wide as her voice dropped to an urgent whisper.
“I’ll keep my ears open, Dawn. He looks kind of weird. You know, serial killer weird.”
I pressed my lips together and followed my new client.
The dog was sitting on the examination table, drooling heavily and panting. I could tell he was an older animal from the salt-and-pepper muzzle, and his breath was pretty bad. That usually indicated either a gastrointestinal problem or dental issues.
The man was standing in the furthest corner of the room with his hands in his pockets, his head hanging down, peering at me warily through the thick curtain of uncombed hair.
“So this is Stan,” I said, stroking the dog’s head. “A reluctant patient?”
His tail thumped twice.
“I guess you don’t like going to the vet, huh, boy?” I looked up again at his silent owner. “Don’t worry about it. We get a lot of animals like that on their first time here. He’ll get used to us and we’ll take good care of him.”
He stared back at me, his face unreadable.
“And, um, I really must apologize for this morning,” I said, still stroking Stan’s head. “Old Joe didn’t mind me riding across his land. When I saw you, I didn’t know that … well, I made assumptions. It won’t happen again.”
His head tilted to one side, but he didn’t reply, and my cheeks flushed with annoyance and confusion.
“So, how can I help you today?” I asked briskly.
Stan stared at me docilely then yawned widely.
“Phew! That’s some serious halitosis he’s got there. What do you feed him?”
Mr. Winters blinked rapidly, crossed his arms across his chest the way he had this morning, then took several deep breaths. His eyes screwed shut and his whole face contorted. I was afraid he was having a seizure, but then his eyes opened wide and he coughed out a single word.
“B-b-acon.”
“Bacon?”
He nodded, then took another breath.
“Eh … eh … eggs.”
It took him three tries to aspirate the word, and a sudden ache twisted my heart.
My new client wasn’t rude—he had a speech impediment. A severe one.
My heart softened as I stared at this rough-looking man. Then his gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet my eyes.
But before he looked away, I saw pain and frustration as well as humiliation.
Was it always so hard for him, or was it me? Was this the reason he asked for a male veterinarian?
I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to go through life without that basic ability of human communication, of connection. I felt wretched that I’d judged him so harshly when we’d first met.
No wonder he’d done everything to avoid speaking either to me or Ashley.
No wonder he hid behind his long hair and straggly beard.
How lonely that must be.
“I’m guessing you’re worried about Stan’s drooling?” I asked gently.
There was no doubt that he loved his dog. I could see the concern in his eyes when he looked my way, see it in the gentle way he handled his pet.
Two intelligent eyes blinked up at me and he nodded.
“Is Stan okay with me touching his mouth?”
He nodded again.
“Okay, let’s have a look at those teeth, Stan.”
I saw the root of the problem right away: gum disease. His teeth were yellow and stained, and Stan also had a plaque issue. But the immediate problem was his inflamed gums. He must have been in a considerable amount of pain, but he didn’t growl or pull away as I checked the rest of his mouth carefully.
“Oh dear, Stan, you should have brushed.”
After giving him a full examination and taking his temperature, which was slightly elevated, I gave his owner the news.
“Several of those teeth will have to come out eventually, and the rest need to be cleaned to get rid of residual plaque. But right now, I want to treat his gingivitis—gum disease—it’s an early stage of periodontal disease, although he’s got quite a nasty infection. And I’d like to schedule a procedure to remove the plaque build-up. Do you have insurance?”
I was already planning the lowest premium our practice could charge, and wondering whether or not Gary would agree to fund the procedure through our charitable program, when Mr. Winters nodded again and pulled a card out of his wallet.
The wallet looked new and expensive. My eyes narrowed with suspicion, but then I saw that it was embossed in gold A.W., and his pet insurance card appeared valid.
I couldn’t figure him out.
“Also I’ll need you to fill out some forms. I noticed Stan’s never been neutered?”
He grimaced and shook his head. I had to hold back a smile—many men reacted like that. Besides, Stan was too old for the procedure now.
I glanced at my new client thoughtfully.
“And Mr. Winters, bacon and eggs is not a healthy daily diet for Stan. He needs suitable food for a senior dog. How old did you say he is?”
I winced at the word ‘say’ but covered it up quickly, turning to the wall-mounted computer screen to see what information Ashley had already entered.
“Ah, he’s about nine or ten. A rescue dog. Where did you find him?”
I kicked myself for forgetting again that I needed to stick to questions that could be answered with a nod or a headshake. I moved on quickly.
“Well, he seems fine, given his age. But you really should improve his diet. I’ll give him a shot now. It’s a three-in-one: painkiller, anti-inflammatory and mild antibiotic. That will make him more comfortable until we can take care of those gums and teeth.”
I stroked Stan’s head and he nuzzled my hand.
For a second, I thought I saw the man smile, although it was hard to tell behind his bushy beard, but after I’d given Stan his shot, he simply nodded at me and lifted him down from the examination table.
“How’d that go?” Ashley asked brightly as we walked out with Stan.
“Fine,” I said flatly, then scheduled the next appointment while Mr. Winters stood beside me, a silent, looming presence.

I couldn’t get Mr. Winters out of my head. When I’d met him this morning by the lake, I was so certain that he was dangerous, but now I saw all his actions in a completely different light and I was ashamed of my assumptions and reactions.
Of course he’d been angry when we first met. I was trespassing on his land and had even told him off for being there. I’d misread his silence, too. And all the time, he’d been stuck standing naked in the water because I was ridiculing his clothes.
My skin felt hot at the memory. I was ashamed of myself, but I couldn’t quite dispel a quiver of interest at the hardness of his body, the obvious masculine strength. It had been a while since I’d seen something that good in real life. Not since college, unless it was some actor on TV.
Everything about him was a contradiction. His expensive-looking wallet and premium pet insurance; his rusting truck and his ragged clothes—and the fact that he’d apparently paid cash for Old Joe’s cabin—no mortgage required, or so Ashley told me. She’d heard it from Jenny who worked for the town’s only attorney Simeon Spender, the man who’d handled Old Joe’s estate, so I guess it really was true.
No one knew what had brought him to Girard, Pennsylvania, population 3,065. On the few occasions he was seen in town, he hadn’t spoken to anyone or even tried to. Of course, now I knew why, but the town had decided that he was ‘strange’, ‘a recluse’ or even ‘creepy’.
I wondered if anyone else had sensed his loneliness and isolation behind that forbidding appearance. Did he hide because of his stutter, or was there something else?
I dreamed about him that night. Totally inappropriate dreams for a respectable single mother who rarely dated and whose eight year-old daughter was sleeping in the next room.
I woke up ratty, in a bad mood and stupidly aroused. Not a great combination. So, I pushed the thoughts from my mind as I dropped Katie off at her friend’s house, and then headed to work, thankful that I was only doing a half-day today. During school vacations, Gary let me work part-time as much as possible.
I arrived just as Ashley was parking her Honda, but she didn’t get out of the car, instead she waved to catch my attention, pointed behind me, then ducked down, peering over her steering wheel.
I soon saw the reason. Mr. Winters’ was climbing out of his rusting truck, a large cardboard box in his hands. He placed it by the office front door and then walked away. I saw him glance in our direction, and I felt hugely embarrassed that he’d seen us cowering in the parking lot, but his long hair fell across his face, screening his expression, so I couldn’t tell what he thought about our crazy behavior.
When he sped away in his battered pickup, I realized that I’d been holding my breath.
Ashley gave a theatrical shudder as she climbed out of her car.
“Ugh, that guy gives me the creeps. What do you think is in the box? Oh God, don’t open it! It might be a head!”
I didn’t bother to answer, instead cautiously lifting one of the flaps.
I jumped back with a squeal, and Ashley shrieked. A sudden flutter of wings had startled me.
Sitting in a nest of torn up rags was a Golden Eagle, very young, its flight feathers still fluffy, and its left wing obviously broken as it trailed next to him, the poor bird crying loudly.
I sent Ashley to find a pet carrier and took my latest customer inside.
Some people think it’s not possible to mend a bird’s broken wing, but if you’re careful and patient, they can make a full recovery.
Golden Eagles were rare around here and protected, but there were a few. Mr. Winters must have found this one in the forest.
I suppose I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t stayed to speak to us, but I was taken aback to find a note in neat handwriting offering to pay for the young eagle’s treatment.
The bird didn’t have any other injuries, so I cut a 12 inch strip of veterinarian bandaging tape, a special type that doesn’t stick to fur or feathers. Then, as gently as possible, given the bird’s distressed squawks, I folded the broken wing against his side in the most natural position I could manage, while avoiding his sharp beak. Then I strapped the wing to his body and asked Ashley to call the aviary veterinarian in Pittsburg. In three or four weeks, the bird would be good as new. I hoped.
It was lucky that Mr. Winters had found him. He wouldn’t have survived in the wild like that.
For such a big man, he was incredibly gentle.
And that intrigued me even more.

 

 

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She is also a campaigner for former military personnel to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )
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Jane is a writer of contemporary romance fiction, known for thoughtful stories, often touching on difficult subjects: disability (DANGEROUS TO KNOW & LOVE, SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM); mental illness (THE EDUCATION OF CAROLINE, SEMPER FI); life after prison (LIFERS); dyslexia (THE TRAVELING MAN, THE TRAVELING WOMAN).

She is also a campaigner for former military personnel to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads

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Release Blitz + Excerpt + 2016 Favorite + 5 Star Review + Giveaway: For All The Evers by Debra Anastasia

 

 

Title: For All the Evers
Author: Debra Anastasia
Genre: Romance
Release Date: December 18, 2016
Blurb

Fallen Billow should be in college like most of her friends, but instead she’s raising her brother and working as a housekeeper at a vintage local hotel. It’s back-breaking work, but not nearly as challenging as fending off unwanted advances from the hotel’s owner.Thomas McHugh is fighting for our country, across the globe and decades before Fallen Billow was even born. So there’s no way they’re soul mates. There’s no way he can be desperate to see her, hold her, kiss her. Except there is.Is it a dream when he inks his name on her skin? Is it a delusion when she puts her hands on his face and says she loves him? Nothing has ever felt more real.

Fate has etched paths for Thomas and Fallen that even time cannot touch. A Purple Heart proclaims Thomas’ valor and bravery. And his death. But Fallen dares to dream of the impossible. She wants Thomas to stay. Just stay.

A tribute to all who have served our country, this novel honors the impossible beauty of love and the endless power of hope. Come open your heart and celebrate the many facets of bravery with Fallen and Thomas.

Debra Anastasia has created a
website for Thomas McHugh – the veteran the book is in honor of.
(It is recommended readers look at this website after reading the book)

Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Available in Kindle Unlimited
Trailer
Excerpt

“I bet you were adorable.” He put his knuckle under her chin and encouraged her to lift her head. She rolled back over and settled against his shoulder.“I don’t want to be adorable. I want to be impossible.”

“How do you mean?” He kissed her forehead.

“I want to be impossible for you to forget, impossible for you to keep your hands off of.” She leaned up for a kiss.

“You’re my impossible then. Have no fear.” He tenderly reminded her he was her impossible, too, with his lips.

She put her hand against his stomach and snuggled in. “This is my spot. Right here. With you—it’s home.”

He swallowed before talking to the ceiling. “My heart was like a fist. Where I am? It’s not a place you plan to survive. I’ve been there for years, and it’s not about skill; it’s not even about luck. You get strapped into a machine, and fate’s driving. You can’t get out even if you want to. So you submit to it. You harden your soul. You get ready to die.”

He shifted, rolling on top of her. She sighed in contentment. Being beneath him made her feel safe and secure.

He kissed her lips, then the tip of her nose, before continuing. “But with you, it’s like my heart’s opening up, and I’m terrified to feel, after all this time. Yet I don’t have a choice. No matter where I am, I draw your face whenever I get a scrap of paper.”

He laughed a little. “We found a puppy, and I named it Fallen, just so I could say your name over and over. The guys think I’m crazy—such a strange name for a dog. But I don’t care. I’m gasping for you every moment I’m awake. And I’m making choices to keep me alive through the week.”

His eyes searched hers. “What if I’m not as tough as I was in the beginning? God, I hope no one is affected by my distraction with this. But in the end there’s you. Only you. Do what you have to to get back to me when you’re awake. You have to. I need you more than air, more than life right now. The softness of you, the tenderness in your eyes when you see me. I’m trying to force fate to throw me in your direction. To hurl me at you somehow. I don’t know if it will work. But I’m praying for it.”

Fallen touched his face, then his neck. “I will do everything I can to find you.”

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SBJ2016Favorite

5Star+

Michel’s Review

A few months ago a fellow book junkie and I were having a discussion about our favorite authors.  Debra Anastasia was one that popped up on both of our list.  As the discussion about Debra’s books became more detailed, we realized that Debra was one that stood out among our favorites.  She has a special gift with creating compelling characters that are outside of the norm in most romance novels.  Each one of her novels is completely different and stands on it’s own merit.  It cannot be compared to anything.  Debra not only creates compelling characters with very unique stories, she also adds a range of emotional moments infused with humor, compassion, and honesty.  Her creativity has left readers enthralled with their reading experience.  Who else could create a charismatic homeless guy, a lovable ruthless crime lord, a saintly priest with an inner tiger, a blogger held hostage by a farting bad guy, a super mommy exacting revenge, and panty dropping pharmacist? This time around Debra has really dug deep and delivered a story that is not only personal for her but gives an unfinished hero his happily ever after in a very unique way. After reading  For All The Evers, I was in awe of Debra’s writing talent.

***

For All The Evers by Debra Anastasia may be considered a paranormal romance or a time travel romance.  It really didn’t fit quite right in either category.  It was in a class by itself.  The hero, Thomas McHugh, was a veteran who perished in WWII.  The heroine, Fallen Billow, was a modern day young woman struggling to make ends meet in a very dysfunctional family.  Their romance was defined by the dream world and Room 514 at the hotel where Fallen worked.  To add to the mystic, Fallen’s boss, who is all kinds of scary and sexually harasses her at work, is able to stalk her in the dream world.  Her dream world is colliding with the real world.  The only friends she has is two old ladies from very different era’s and experiences.

***

Fallen and Thomas find a love they never expected.  They know that their relationship is realistically doomed.  Their worlds will never be fused together. The seventy year difference is not the only thing in the way of their happily ever after.  Fate has already played her card, Thomas died in the war.

***

Their worlds are out of sync and their hearts beat as one.

***

I will not say much more because this is a book that must be read and experienced personally.  The one thing I will say is that Thomas McHugh was a real man who died a hero in WWII.  He was Debra’s great uncle.  She shared him with the world.  She made him timeless.

Green old wooden door opening with light shining through and red rose hanging from an old key

Green old wooden door opening with light shining through and red rose hanging from an old key

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Author Bio

Debra creates pretend people in her head and paints them on the giant, beautiful canvas of your imagination. What an amazing job that is. The stories hit her hard while driving the minivan or shaving her legs, especially when there’s no paper and pen around. In all of the lies she writes she hides her heart, so thank you for letting it play in your mind.Debra has now published the Seraphim Series, the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood Series, the Gynazule Series, The Revenger and Booty Camp Dating Service. Her novella, Late Night with Andres is special because 100% of the proceeds go to breast cancer research. (So go get it right now, please!) For All The Evers is her latest romantic suspense.

You can find her at DebraAnastasia.com and on Twitter @Debra_Anastasia. But be prepared…

Author Links

 

There is a giveaway for signed paperback of For All the Evers and Saving Poughkeepsie, signed hand crafter holiday ornaments, Booty Camp Dating Service ring, Poughkeepsie lip balm and cardboard keychain, and XL One More Chapter t-shirt