Category Archives: Excerpt

Giveaway – Heated by Aima Simone @XpressoTours @Naima_Simone

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Heated
Naima Simone
(Burned, Inc., #1)
Publication date: July 5th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

From USA Today bestselling author Naima Simone comes Heated, a sizzling novel about a breakup professional who embarks on a fake relationship with a client’s ex—the one person she wasn’t supposed to fall for.

Zora

I’m Denver’s unmatchmaker. Every city needs one.

Why? Because people break up—and sometimes they should. But when I learn that entertainment attorney Cyrus Hart is someone else’s mistake, I can’t believe it. He’s smart, successful, and sexy as hell.

When a chance encounter with Cyrus turns into something more, I can’t help but fall for him. Our chemistry is undeniable. But his ex used my company to send him that letter—and that’s a problem. Especially since he doesn’t know I own the company.

How can this possibly work? I know from experience that the riskiest ventures are the worthiest ones…but falling for Cyrus Hart may be my biggest gamble yet.

Cyrus

I’m a man with a plan—college, law school, a great career. So far, so good.

Until a stranger shows up on my doorstep and reads me a breakup letter from my girlfriend. My carefully laid plans unravel.

But then I meet someone new. It’s spontaneous. It’s electric. And it’s not according to plan.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Why are we here?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” I admit.

It’s not a lie. My hastily thought-of plan drove me here. But part of me hasn’t decided if it also wasn’t simply the desire to see her again. Or an exercise in self-control. Dangling what I shouldn’t take in front of me to see if I possess enough discipline to keep my hands to myself, to walk away. Or tempt myself with this sensual form of edging by embracing what I shouldn’t.

The ambiguous answer seems to be the correct one, though. The tension slowly ebbs out of her body, and she props an elbow on the chair’s arm.

“That makes the two of us, then, because I haven’t figured out yet why I came here.” She huffs out a soft breath. “I’m certain of one thing, though. This isn’t right or smart.”

“Why? Because you’re Val’s friend?” I slice a hand between us. “She’s already seeing someone new. Probably was before she sent you to do her hatchet job. So I don’t care about that.”

“Is that what this is, then?” she murmurs. “Revenge? Payback? You plan to throw”—she twirls a hand in the air—“whatever we’re doing here back in her face one day for breaking up with you and moving on too quickly?”

I almost laugh long and loud at that bullshit.

“There aren’t many things that are a one hundred percent certainty. Weather, election outcomes, the price of gas, Hollywood marriages. But this I can state without a shadow of a doubt. Not happening.”

She studies me, and I can practically read all the questions in those brown eyes. How can you? Why? What happened?

But she lifts her cup and drinks, and instead of asking what she so clearly wants to know, she says, “Not my business.”

“Isn’t it? When you chose to put yourself in the middle of our relationship, it became your business.” The moment comprehension dawns, her eyes widen, then narrow. But I lean forward, a smile curving my mouth. And that smile? It’s possible it isn’t nice. Because nice doesn’t accurately describe this uncomfortable and unwanted gnawing inside of me. I’m feeling hungry. “You owe me.”

I both hear and see the hitch in her breath. The almost nonchalant note in her voice belies the worry in her eyes. Too bad for her; I make a living at reading people. Too bad she’s shit at hiding her emotions. God, I could fucking feast, become a damn glutton on her honesty.

“What?” she whispered.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I heard you.” My own breath really shouldn’t quicken or my blood pump hotter at the sound of those words coming through clenched teeth. Or the sight of her hand wrapped tighter around her cup. As if only her grip on the cardboard container is preventing her from transferring it to my neck. “But obviously I don’t understand your meaning. I owe you for what?”

For witnessing my weakest moments since leaving my aunt’s house. For reminding me that my life, my world, is not in my control. For throwing me back to that twelve-, fourteen-, sixteen-year-old uncertain boy again.

For refusing to be evicted from my head like a sexy, stubborn squatter.

For being my answer, my salvation, in this moment, when for years I’ve vowed to depend only on myself.

And her most heinous sin? For deviating from my carefully laid-out plans. For stepping outside those lines and hungering for something, someone, I have no business desiring.

But I say none of that because those reasons are mine and mine alone.

She gets, “For not stepping back and letting Val have the guts to do her own dirty work. Instead, you allowed yourself to be her patsy, and I’m pissed with you and her about that. I’m also mad as hell that you both stole the chance for me to have my say.”

A starkness enters her eyes, and she briefly closes them before glancing away, her hair concealing most of her profile. Fisting those curls and moving them out of the way so I can see her expression, her thoughts, is such a fierce urge I shift away from her.

“I didn’t think about that. About stealing your voice. I’m truly sorry for that.”

I believe her. But I’m not letting it go that easily. It isn’t in my interest to.

“Look at me,” I say softly. I order softly. And a coil in my gut draws almost painfully, sweetly tight when she obeys. “You owe me. And I’m offering a form of . . . penance.”

She loses that pained, haunted expression, and anger tautens the skin across her cheekbones, emphasizing their boldness, their strength. As perverse as it might make me, my cock pounds at the sign of her ire. Yeah, I’m turned on, and part of me is hoping she takes it out on me with teeth and nails.

Well shit. When did I become a man who enjoyed an edge of pain with his pleasure?

The answer?

Zora.


Author Bio:

Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”

She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter


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Giveaway – Spells and Slip Ups by Annie Anderson @AnnieAnde @XpressoTours

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Spells and Slip-ups
Annie Anderson
(The Wrong Witch, #1)
Publication date: July 5th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

I suck at witchcraft.

Coming from a long line of famous witches, I should be at the top of the heap. Problem is, if there is a spell cast anywhere in my vicinity, I will somehow mess it up. As a probationary agent with the Arcane Bureau of Investigation, I have two choices: I can limp along and maybe pass myself off as a competent agent, or I can fail. Miserably.

Worse news? If I can’t get my act together, I may not only be out of a job, I could also lose my life.

Whose idea was this again?

Goodreads / Amazon


EXCERPT

“Get out,” he barked, crossing his beefy arms over his substantial belly. “Ain’t no way I’m gonna let a Bannister tromp all over my shop. Who knows what you’ll break?”

Not that half the shit in this hovel wasn’t broken already, but still, tears prickled at my eyes. Gritting my teeth against the sting, I managed to stand my ground. This wasn’t the first time I’d been kicked out of a witch shop, and given my history, it wouldn’t be the last.

“Please,” I begged, reaching inside my bag for the wad of cash. Ellie and I had planned on moving in together after college, but here we were two years post-graduation, with no apartment in sight. Unearthing the fistful of bills, I held them in front of me to ward off my ousting. “I can pay.”

His gaze snagged on the money in my hand, and he licked his chops. By the looks of this place, Mr. Jones hadn’t seen a paying customer in longer than I’d been alive. “What? You stub your toe or somethin’? I ain’t wasting my time on no silly girl with a hangnail.”

Don’t back talk the healer, Wren. Don’t do it.

“It’s not for me, you judgmental ass. It’s for my best friend’s mom. Do you really think I’d be tromping through here looking for you if it was something I could fix with a nail clipper and a manicurist? I’m liable to get tetanus in this heap.” Gnashing my teeth, I took a deep breath, doing my damnedest to not start screaming. “It’s systemic organ failure. Can you fix that?”

Carmichael narrowed his eyes. “Your friend’s mom. Not your mom?” A slow smile pulled across his lips, exposing yellowed teeth and a fair amount of tooth decay. “You have my interest. What class is your friend’s mother? She a witch like you or…”

This was the sticking point. If I couldn’t get him to agree, Alice had no hope. It wasn’t like I could bribe my way into my mother’s good graces or beg my father.

“Human,” I breathed, praying he wouldn’t make a fuss.

He simply blinked at me for a solid thirty seconds. “I’m sorry—what was that?”

Stomping through the piles of junk, I slapped the money on the counter before reaching into my bag for the second roll of bills. It was my entire savings. Everything I’d squirreled away to set myself up. It wasn’t just an apartment I was getting. It was a chance.

But it meant nothing if Alice wasn’t breathing.

“She’s human,” I hissed. “Are you gonna help me or not?” The bank teller had audibly squawked when I’d pulled every dime from my account, her face purpling when I’d asked for it in cash.

Carmichael reached for the bills, but I slapped his hand before he could get within an inch. “Are you helping, or am I going to have to go down to the River Walk and deal with them?”

The “them” in question were the Fae, and I had no intention of dealing with that sort at all. Ever. Making deals with fairies was tantamount to jumping off a cliff with piranhas, sharks, and razor-sharp rocks at the bottom. Anyone who had ever made a fairy deal regretted it, and I wouldn’t be making the same mistake.

Luckily, my poker face was top-notch—otherwise Carmichael would have seen right through my bluff.

“What you’re asking for is illegal, you know.”

Author Bio:

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.

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Giveaway – The Sisterhood of Secrets by Winnifred Tataw @XpressoTours @WinsBooks

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The Sisterhood of Secrets
Winnifred Tataw
(The Gods’ Scion, #4)
Publication date: July 1st 2022
Genres: Contemporary, Fantasy

Author Winnifred Tataw explores kingdoms and worldbuilding in this fantasy novel full of secrets and twists in her latest book, The Sisterhood of Secrets.

The story follows Arcelia, her flawed family, and Prince Rodrick, as they tumble through the deserts and underground city of Siesa Arid. Everything has been off since she found out her mother could be a murderer with the whispers of lies and broken promises hanging over her head. She hopes that a visit to her twin cousins’ homeland of Siesa Arid may be the kind of family reconciliation she’s been hoping to have. Arcelia and Rodrick are troubled by threats from a criminal organization; they become overwhelmed with moral questions of right and wrong. All with the help and under the watchful eye of the Archangel and God of Life.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

“The queen called for me,” I said.

One of them nodded as he knocked on Queen Riva’s office door. After a short while, she didn’t answer the door, so he hit it again.

“What is it?” she grumbled from the other side.

The guards cautiously opened the door to speak to the Queen.

“Let her in,” was all I heard echoed back.

The two guards stepped out to let me inside the office.

“Thank you,” I said to them as I was face to face with the Queen of Diar. She was still in her royal ceremony attire, with fewer jewels and hairpins adorning her. Her crown no longer sat on her head, yet no strand of silver hair laid out of place. The room’s lights were soft and dimmed, with a light cinnamon aroma.

I bowed. “Good evening, Queen Riva.”

“Good evening, Duchess,” she pointed to the seat in front of her desk. “Please have a seat.” I did as I was told and sat down, letting the yellow dress drape over the legs of the chair.

“So, how did you enjoy my son’s wedding?” she asked.

“It was beautiful. Honestly, it was fun seeing a different type of wedding.” I smiled softly. The queen’s face didn’t move. It was pretty chilling.

“That’s good.” She sighed, “Well. You are smart enough to know I didn’t call you here for just small talk.”

I nodded. I could hear my heartbeat slowly rising. I was so nervous. Throughout all the years I had been with Rodrick, Riva had never asked to talk to me like this.

“The reason for this conversation wasn’t planned, Duchess.” the Queen said. “I had only thought of it until today as my son’s wedding proceeded.”

She rubbed her temple and looked me in the eye. “As you know, Rodrick may be in that same position one day.”

I looked down at my manicure. “Yes—”

She cut me off, “Look at me when you’re talking to me, Duchess.”

I quickly snapped my head back up. “My apologies.”

She droned. “Just don’t do it—no need for apologies.”

I nodded again. “Yes, I’m aware that Rodrick will get married one day…or that he wants to…I think.” My nerves were finally getting to me. I didn’t know where she was going with this. I didn’t know how I was to answer her without stepping on her toes or getting on her wrong side.

“And as we all know,” Queen Riva continued, “Rodrick is the Acolyte of Time.”

She sighed. “As the Acolyte of Time, Rodrick is mighty. Even without the status of the prince, he still holds a great deal of power both physically and institutionally in the world.” Queen Riva clapped her hands together. “And I may not know if this is true for the other followers of the gods, but, for Tempus, this isn’t the first time a Royal has been an Acolyte.”

I raised my brows. This was new information to me. But how would I know?

She stared at me, her icy blue eyes sending shivers down my spine. “So as a contingency plan of some sorts, we placed the rule the Royal family placed in law. If an Acolyte were to marry and be of Royal blood…they would have to give up their title.”

My mouth dropped. “Are you serious?!”


Author Bio:

Winnifred or Winnie, as most know her by, is an artist, writer, and author of her debut novel: The Gods’ Scion: Child of Tempus. As a military child, Winnie has traveled extensively around the US East Coast and Germany, learning about the history, lore, and culture of each region. Winnie has spent the last two years writing and expanding the world of The Gods’ Scion trilogy series. Winnie has had a lifelong love of literature and art. As a new writer she wants to create beautiful fantasy world with compelling and intriguing characters. Winnie resides in South Carolina and is an undergraduate at the College of Charleston. She loves to spread positivity and joy to those around her, and look at the world through a glittery pink lens.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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I Buried Paul by Bruce Ferber @pumpupyourbook

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About the Book:

Title: I BURIED PAUL
Author: Bruce Ferber
Publisher: The Story Plant
Pages: 304
Genre: Adult Literary Fiction

BOOK BLURB:

Jimmy Kozlowski has a regular gig playing Paul McCartney in the Beatles tribute band, Help!. The band is part of a cottage industry built around mimicry, where each group strives to be the ultimate Fake Fab Four. And none strives harder than Help!, thanks to Gene Klein, its John Lennon and leader. Gene’s just gotten his Medicare card and spends much of his time caring for his ailing mother. But he hasn’t lost a step on guitar or vocals, and is determined to take Help! to the top, his goal being to perform in Liverpool one day. Though the notion of the UK clamoring for a group of Long Islanders with fake British accents seems far-fetched, Gene has a plan.

​

Unlike his boss, Jimmy has limited bandwidth for high-quality Beatle wigs or bespoke Nehru jackets. He works a straight job, entertains at a nursing home, and yearns to connect with the daughter he’s never met. He also wants a shot at recording and performing his own original compositions. No matter the odds, Jimmy is determined to realize his creative dreams, even if it means “burying Paul” in the process.

I Buried Paul is a love letter to the power of music, a humorous yet moving exploration of the sacrifices its disciples are willing to make in service to its magic.

“Funny, heartfelt, and unafraid… A book for anyone who loves music or has ever tried to keep a dream alive.” — Ben Loory, author of Tales of Falling and Flying

“First, the good news: Paul isn’t dead, and this isn’t an autopsy. Rather it’s a funny, moving novel about trying to find your way home from the Abbey Road of your teenage fantasy life, while simultaneously escaping the shadows cast by your father, your older brother, many failed relationships, and a world that doesn’t like to see people doing what they love – such as making their own music. Reminiscent of Anne Tyler and Richard Russo (if either could keep a steady bass beat), Bruce Ferber writes humorous fiction for grown ups.” — Scott Bradfield, author of The History of Luminous Motion

“In his touching and funny novel, Bruce Ferber comes not to bury Paul McCartney but to celebrate his true believers, the dreamers who carry the torch of their youthful rock dreams well into pension age, and who refuse to sacrifice their passion despite high cholesterol counts and the possibility of embarrassing themselves. I Buried Paul is a tender paean to the music that changed us all, its revivifying and enduring power.” — Marc Weingarten, author of The Gang that Wouldn’t Write Straight: Wolfe, Thompson, Didion, Capote, and the New Journalism Revolution

“Funny, deep, and compulsive, I Buried Paul is a tribute to family, lifelong friends, and the Beatles tunes that unite them. Told with Ferber’s trademark wit, literary verve and big-heartedness, it’s a veritable magical mystery tour of growing up and finding love and meaning in a complex world.” — Michaela Carter, author of Leonora in the Morning Light
“Reading Bruce Ferber’s latest novel is like being told a great tale from your favorite and funniest pal ― the one who really seems to know stuff―the one you trust―the one who gets you when nobody else does. Long live Paul.” — Jason Alexander

“Bruce Ferber’s prose is music to my ears. I Buried Paul is very funny, and very insightful.” — John Densmore

“Bruce Ferber has captured lightning in a bottle, chronicling a generation’s obsessive attachment to The Beatles. His love for their music and legacy is evident on every page. And as the poets said, ‘With a love like that you know it can’t be bad.’ (Yeah-yeah-yeah.)” — Bob Spitz, New York Times bestselling author of The Beatles

Book Information

Release Date: June 14 2022

Publisher: The Story Plant

Soft Cover: 978-1611883282; 329 pages; $16.95; E-Book, $7.49, Audiobook, Free with Audible Trial

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3yS5ip5

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/i-buried-paul-bruce-ferber/1140012044?ean=9781611883282

Chapters: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/i-buried-paul-a-novel/9781611883282-item.html?ikwid=I+Buried+Paul&ikwsec=Home&ikwidx=1#algoliaQueryId=96d8ff50907af587efe58127490ab077

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/i-buried-paul

Book Depository: https://www.bookdepository.com/I-Buried-Paul-Bruce-Ferber/9781611883282?ref=grid-view&qid=1642224849678&sr=1-3

Book Excerpt:

Milestones are seldom what they’re cracked up to be, unless you’re a charmed preppie who inherits the Hallmark gene. My first time kissing a girl turned out to be a mercy stunt, engineered by some douchey linebacker on the junior varsity. The most memorable thing about getting my driver’s license was that I had no car, and my parents’ station wagon was never available. When I put on the cap and gown for high school graduation, it felt like I was going to a Halloween party, dressed as a fraud.
 

As I went on to achieve my own versions of milestones, none of them would adhere to society’s definitions or timetable. Instead, they appeared out of the blue like stealth jack-in-the-boxes. How was I to know that the fourth kiss from my third girlfriend would be the portal to life-changing sex? Or that on my first solo plane trip at eighteen, I’d be moved to First Class and treated like a VIP, despite having accomplished nothing? Or that shortly after the plane touched down, I would never again look at the world the same way.


It’s not that I’m against the element of surprise. I’m just convinced it would be a lot less stressful to be the Hallmark guy.

About the Author

Bruce Ferber built a long and successful career as a television comedy writer and producer. A multiple Emmy and Golden Globe nominee, his credits include Bosom Buddies, Growing Pains, Sabrina, The Teenage Witch, Coach, and Home Improvement, where he served as Executive Producer and showrunner. In addition to being recognized by the Television Academy, Ferber’s work has received the People’s Choice, Kid’s Choice, and Environmental Media Awards. He is the author of two previous novels, Elevating Overman and Cascade Falls, along with the nonfiction book, The Way We Work. He lives in Los Angeles, CA with his wife, large dog, and assorted musical instruments.

I Buried Paul is his latest release.

Visit his website at www.Bruceferber.net or connect with him on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

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Giveaway – Revel In You by Scarlett Se Leva @XpressoTours @letshavemocha

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Revel In You
Scarlett Se Leva
(Determined, #3)
Publication date: June 30th 2022
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Simone Goodman.
The only girl I’ve loved.
Until she ripped my heart out.

It’s been five years since I’ve laid eyes on her.
Five years since she was mine.

I told myself never again.
But truth be told I still yearn to indulge in her.
To get lost in her touch.

I plan to own the one thing she’s denied me.
Her heart.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

I see Craig and Tinea across the room, sitting close to each other, whispering and giggling with flirty smiles in their eyes. I admire their love, but at times I can’t stand being around them. Always touching, petting, and kissing each other.

Like what the fuck.

You’re just jealous.

I’m anything but; I get to bang the girl on the cover of this month’s American Vogue.

Upon my approach, Craig leans over and kisses Tinea.

“You two are corny as hell,” I greet them, then place a kiss on Tinea’s cheeks before sitting.

“Don’t be kissing my wife.”

“She isn’t your wife yet,” I point out. “She could come to her senses and run away.” I laugh.

“Wishful thinking, Mulligan.” Craig laughs. “When you put it down like I do, you never worry about your woman leaving.” He winks at Tinea.

Is that a dig? Simone didn’t leave because I couldn’t fuck her brains out. She left because she’s a conceited bitch. She thinks only of herself. Only Simone has feelings, no one else. Men don’t feel. We do fucking feel, but we can’t show it the way women do cause were expected to be strong.

Fucked up world standards.

“You’re hilarious.”

The waiter comes over and takes my drink order.

“Let’s add mozzarella sticks, potato focaccia rolls, and bruschetta with spring vegetables,” Tinea orders.

“Are you ready to order your main course?” The waiter asks.

“We’re still looking,” Craig answers.

“Okay, let me get your appetizers in. I’ll be back with your drink,” the waiter says to the table before walking away.

“Have you started planning the wedding yet?” I ask Tinea as she sips on her drink through strawberry-red lips.

She nods and puts her glass down. “That’s why we asked you here.”

“What you want us to be a throuple?” I smirk.

“Do you not enjoy the air you breathe?” Craig sneers.

“So touchy.” I laugh.

Tinea snickers, looking sideways as she brings her drink back to her lips.

“The reason we wanted to meet up is, I would love for you to be my best man,” Craig says.

“Of course, I’m honored you asked.” Craig and I bump fists then I stand to give him a man hug, patting him on the back. I sit back in the chair. “You’re sure you don’t want to ask one of your brothers?” Craig has three brothers he’s very close with. I don’t want them to be upset that one of them weren’t chosen.

“No, dude, you’re my best friend. Besides if I choose one brother the other is going to be mad. It’s better this way.”

“I have to get Lisa to help me plan your bachelor’s party,” I say, a smile dance on my lips.

“If he’s going to have strippers I need to know, then I’ll make sure I have strippers at mine.”

“Ryan, I don’t want any strippers.” Craig’s brows snap together.

“What?” I give him a puzzled look.

“Why not?” Tinea rolls her eyes.

“Woman!” Craig growls.

Tinea snickers behind her hand. I always thought Tinea would run all over Craig, but he’s tamed the lioness.

We begin talking about the issues Craig is having at the investment firm he works at. He’s one of their top producers and is eyeing a promotion to become a fund manager.

“If I get this position I’ll be making the big bucks.” Craig beams.

He’s already making bank. He has a medium size portfolio over a hundred million. Craig graduated Summa Cum Laude, and I didn’t hesitate when I made the decision and gave him fifteen percent of my net worth to manage.

The account has grown…

Wait a fucking minute?

It’s as if I suddenly have static in my clothes, and there’s a zap to my brain.

“Who’s going to be the maid of honor?”

“Simone,” Tinea says as she sheepishly looks away.

I’m left speechless. My mind spins as if I just came off a fair ride.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I bark. I look between Craig and Tinea. Craig is my friend, or so I thought. Why the hell would he think this is a good decision is beyond me. Are they trying to play matchmaker? Simone and I have been down this road twice. I’ve accepted we aren’t meant to be.

That’s not a road I’m willing to travel down again. Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, this would be the third time and I’m not a fucking jackass.


Author Bio:

Scarlett Se Leva writes unexpected, steamy, suspenseful romance.

When Scar isn’t busy penning her next book, you can find her with her family watching movies, drinking wine, curled up in a corner with a book or running after her three daughters.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter / Bookbub / Amazon / TikTok


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Giveaway – Buck Up Buttercup by Anna Alkire @XpressoTours @AnnaAlkire

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Buck Up, Buttercup
Anna Alkire
Publication date: June 30th 2022
Genres: Comedy, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

All’s fair in love and war.
With Randi and Buck, it’s hard to tell the two apart…

An uptight, self-contained college girl, Randi Becker just needed one thing: a room. Somewhere she could study, and keep away from the things that most confuse and frighten her: people.

Unfortunately, the “nice quiet place” she reserved turns out to be a room in the campus’ most raucous house. A place seemingly designed to make studying impossible, made even worse by the other girls’ non-stop drama.

But then Buck, a fun-loving cowboy whom all the ladies love, shows up…and everything gets much worse.

Buck seems to have it all: friends, fun, and a never-ending line of admirers. But what he most desires is a break. So when Buck spots Randi, he figures she’s a perfect decoy: he can play up a “crush” on her that will take him off the market; buy him some breathing room. And if he can tease her a bit, and get under the skin of the uptight busybody? Well, that’s just gravy.

But Buck is about to find more than he bargained for. Randi’s strong-willed, opinionated, difficult—and maybe just what he needs. And Buck isn’t alone. Soon Randi wonders as well…if the world she wanted is really the world she needs. If her future is nothing more than a diploma on the wall. And if the most important thing in her world isn’t a grade, but the cowboy who’s planted his boots firmly in her heart.

Fans of Beth O’Leary’s The Flatshare and Sally Thorne’s The Hating Game will delight at this mix of romantic comedy, contemporary romance, and cultures colliding in a campus town with a western flair. Grab your copy today, and fall in love with Buck Up, Buttercup!

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

An old pickup, with new shiny green paint, slowed down beside her until it crawled along at her pace. A quick glance sideways revealed black-hat-cowboy-guy grinning down at her.

A jolt of awareness cleared some of the fog from her head. He was more good-looking than she’d remembered, and also incredibly large above her in the truck.

“Good morning, darlin’,” he called down.

“Drive on,” she called out.

“Headed into town? We’ve got room.”

“I’m going to walk.” She wouldn’t get into a car with a single person from that party. She walked forward, not looking at him.

“Hold up, you dropped something,” he said, stopping the truck.

Randi whirled around, scanning the empty ground behind her. Her fingers lost their grip and her bags crashed down, things spilling out onto the gravel road. Her eyes burned.

Buck turned off the truck engine and leaned out the window.

“That’s a lot of gear to haul all the way into town,” he said, cheerfully.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I just want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Leave me alone please!”

“Listen. Hugh, in the passenger seat, and I are headed in for some breakfast. If you ride with me, this gas guzzler will have a full cab. Darlin’, that’s a load off my conscience.”

Randi’s belly shuddered and her lips quivered. The dam burst. Her hands flew up to cover her eyes and a hiccupped sob exploded out.

“I can’t jump in some stranger’s pickup,” she mumbled through her fingers.

“Hey now,” he said, the amused condescension in his voice aking her glare up at him. “You hold on to that pepper spray if it makes you feel better. Land’s sake, girl, we hauled around passed-out-Sarah last night. You’re practically part of the family. And Hugh here has about twenty sisters, so he’s well-trained.”

The door of the truck opened. She took a step back, pulling up the inside collar of her dress to dab at her face.

Buck’s eyes crinkled at her, a lopsided half-grin on his face. It was probably the way he looked at cows right before he lassoed a rope around their necks, or whatever. But he had helped Sarah. And her.

Her shoulders slumped. Defeated, she was beyond resistance. If they murdered her, at least she might be sitting down.

“All right?” he asked.

She exhaled. “All right, I’ll take a ride to the closest bus stop. Thanks.”

Buck picked up her bags and put them in the back of the truck. She hauled her heavy backpack off her aching shoulders and turned to sling it up, but Buck was already gripping the top and lifting it out of her hands.

“Hi,” said a burly man sitting on the passenger side of the bench seat, a gentle smile on his face. Like she was a crazy person. Which she was. With a deep breath, she hoisted herself up into the cab next to him.

“Sorry about Buck,” the big guy said, glaring at the culprit with one eye squinted. “He’s devious about getting what he wants.”

Buck landed on the seat beside her. “Hugh keeps the standards up. Probably why he’s so grumpy all the time.”

Hugh crossed his arms, leaning into the passenger door. His buzzed blond head and muscular frame brought to mind a late-twenties version of Mr. Clean, minus the jewelry.

“I ain’t grumpy. Just tired of your ugly face.”

Buck chuckled. Randi caught herself staring at him. She wouldn’t call his face ugly, not even anything related to unattractive. More like relentlessly cheerful. And way too confident that he could boss everyone around. She sniffed, annoyed with him enough to stop crying.

The truck rolled forward, bumping on the gravel road. They sat on an old-fashioned bucket-style bench, comfortable for two people, and a squeeze for three. The middle seat offered no belt. A death trap. Because that was the logical conclusion to her week from hell. She braced a hand on the dash to keep from bouncing into the bodies next to her.

Not touching either man, holding her body tense and straight, made her neck ache. And still she knocked knees with Hugh and almost leaned on Buck’s shoulder. Buck’s hand on the manual gear shifter was an inch from her thigh, his fingers brushing the edge of her skirt when he shifted. Short of sitting on Hugh’s lap, there was nowhere for her to go to keep from touching him.

She felt shaky, barely keeping herself together. Every time Buck changed position she noticed it, his muscular arms flexing as he drove. It was like sitting next to a tiger: electrifying, an experience you never forgot, and total madness.

“So,” said Buck, flashing a grin at her. “What’s your rush this morning? You just moved in last night.”

Randi dug a tissue out of her bag. “I can’t live in a party house,” she said, dabbing at her running nose.

“A Waffle House?” said Hugh.

“She said party house, Einstein.” Buck glanced at her. “How’d you end up with a room out there?”

“I was teaching in Argentina and found it online. Paid everything…” She paused, choking up, not sure why she was telling them. “They lied to me.” And she dissolved again, covering her face with the tissue.

What was wrong with her? It was beyond humiliating to be crying like a child in front of these strangers. At least she’d never have to see them again.

“Huh,” said Buck, tapping the steering wheel. “Well, I know Trish isn’t happy about the parties.”

“They got an ugly ticket last June,” said Hugh. “She’s on probation.”

Randi sat up straighter, taking in this information. She managed to stop crying, and dabbed her cheeks clean with the tissue.

Buck rubbed the side of his face. “Is that right?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that, Buck. Jesus.”

“I just look like I know everything.”

“Yeah, well, one more ticket and they’re facing jail time. And, of course, there were minors everywhere last night. I turned my back and they slurped down my keg.”

Randi pushed up her glasses. No wonder Trish hadn’t been there during the party. It revealed, even more, how shamelessly Trish had lied to her in the emails they’d exchanged about the house.

The farmland was transforming into residential housing when Buck turned onto a major road.

“That bus stop coming up will be fine,” said Randi, her voice annoyingly shaky.

“No way, darlin’,” said Buck. “You cry in my truck, and I buy you a coffee. Then, I drop you off wherever you want.”

“No, really—”

“Hey,” he said, “I put up with all the tears. So now we’re going to go to this coffee drive-through and get sugary drinks to make ourselves feel better. Otherwise, Hugh over there might start his period.”

“You’re such a jackass,” Hugh said, shaking his head.


Author Bio:

Anna Alkire has been a long-term college student, a business owner, and a world traveler. Now “settled”—with a sigh and a cup of decaf—Anna lives in Washington state, where she splits her time between a husband who thinks the North Pole would be a great place to live, chasing her hurricane of a son, learning new handicrafts, and creating worlds full of the kind of romance and fun she most wants to read. Find more about her (and grab a freebie or two) at her website, annaalkire.com.

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Giveaway – The Starfolk Arcana by Martha Dunlop @GoddessFish @MarthaDunlop

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I must confess, I am a cover…well, you know. So I am excited to have Martha Dunlop her to talk about her covers.

Designing my book covers was a treat I was waiting for. I’d been working on my books for years, focusing on craft, writing, getting feedback and rewriting over and over. Finally, the moment to publish The Starfolk Arcana had come, and I got to live out the cover dream.

I knew exactly who I wanted to hire to design my covers. There were two books I had bought in paperback, even though I’d already read them on my Kindle. I bought them because I loved the covers so much and that had always stuck in my mind. They had the same designer, Ravven.    

My books are a love story, so I wanted people on the front. It’s also set in historic city, St Albans, in a part of town that has lots of Tudor buildings. I went on a ghost walk when I was planning the novel, and the stories I heard whilst walking around the Tudor buildings were a wonderful source of inspiration to me. And more than one ghost made it into the final version of The Starfolk Arcana.  I wanted to capture the history and the spookiness in the cover and I think Ravven did a wonderful job of that with the old, crumbling Tudor building, and the ravens flying in front of the full moon. 

Tarot is another important theme in the book.  The main characters are all represented as archetypes in a specially illustrated deck. Jonan explains early on in the book that this is no mystery.  They knew the artist and she based some of the cards on her friends. But as more characters join the story, and their faces are also in the deck, things become less clear.  I love the way Ravven threw tarot cards into the mix on the book cover, having them flung up into the air to drift on the breeze around the characters. 

Choosing the people was the biggest job, and Jonan, the guy, was the toughest one to find. He had to be blond, (most of the models had dark hair), with long hair and an angular face. In the end I spent a long time looking before I found the guy on the cover. He was very smiley in most of the pictures, but looking serious, and with the addition of longer hair, he was the perfect Jonan.  There weren’t many pictures that worked, but there is a fabulous image waiting for book three of the trilogy. 

For book two I wanted a new colour scheme and a different mood, whilst maintaining the same feel.  This cover is set in the countryside in front of an old farm building and it picks up on some scenes from the beginning of Starfolk Falling.  Beth is a lot more confident in this cover. 

In The Starfolk Arcana, Beth falls prey to my antagonist, Amelia’s fear mongering and that is reflected in her worried expression on the book cover. By Starfolk Falling she is far more in control, and I can’t wait to see the cover with book 3’s Beth. I have the perfect image for her. 

I wanted these covers to feel immersive and magical, to pull the reader into the story before they even begin, and I really love the way Ravven achieved that for me.  She’s a wonderful designer. 

I must say, you accomplished your goal. I love the covers. Thanks so much for visiting.

The Starfolk Trilogy by Martha Dunlop

GENRE:   Urban Fantasy/Paranormal

Cover By: https://www.ravven.com/ 

BLURB

Destiny calls. Soulmates draw closer. One woman stands in the way.

Beth trusts her psychic senses. So when her birthday visit to a daytime TV talk show takes a weird turn, she knows something is wrong. Amelia, the celebrity on stage, is oddly fixated on Beth and the man with the microphone is hauntingly familiar. Things become even stranger when she buys a tarot deck, and they are all pictured in the cards.  

Jonan has waited an eternity to be with the woman who haunts his dreams. When he finally sees her at the TV studio, he hopes life with his soulmate is within reach. But as Amelia refuses to let go of their past together, his hopes fade.

Amelia stands between Beth and Jonan. Spinning tales of supernatural threats to her adoring fan base, she builds a personality cult through fear of the paranormal. As her power grows, she does her best to scare Beth away from Jonan and plans to reclaim him for herself.

United by a destiny that spans lifetimes, Beth and Jonan are determined to stop Amelia’s fear-mongering. But Amelia has more than one card to play. Even though they are fated to be together, Amelia’s destructive nature may once again tear them apart.

EXCERPT

Beth sighed and slouched down in her front row seat at the TV studio. If she’d known she was going to be subjected to this drivel, she wouldn’t have come. She’d been here for two hours already, and not one of the stories had been genuine. Her so-called friend and flatmate had a lot to answer for. She was pleased Laura loved her new job, and it had been obvious her friend’s enthusiasm about the chat show was overblown, but this was worse than she’d expected.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. Laura was standing off to the side of the set, waving her clipboard at Beth. She shifted on her mile-high spikes. Her feet must have been so uncomfortable, but Laura had been determined to make an impression today. Her eyes were bright as she scanned the set, drinking in her world. This job was her triumph. Beth couldn’t fault her enthusiasm, she just wished Laura had left her out of today’s charade.

Seated on the dais, Katherine Haversham waited for a moment, eyebrows raised, bright red lips pursed.

‘Thank you for staying with us over the break. I know this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Model and It girl Amelia Faustus is here, live, on Deep and Dark to break her silence over the horrific out-of-body attack that took her from the media spotlight. After weeks of fear and soul-searching, she has decided to step back into the public eye. Amelia, welcome. Tell us what happened.’ Katherine leaned forward. ‘Start from the beginning.’

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Martha is a dreamer and lover of stories who likes nothing better than spending her days getting to know the characters in her head.

She is a tarot card reader and reiki master, and loves to chat reading, writing and all things mystical on social media, as well as posting pictures of her fellow pack-member, Bertie the Cavalier.

A fiddle player, Martha fell in love with traditional music, particularly Irish, and is also teaching herself to play the Irish Bouzouki. She played her way through her English degree at York and remembers that time as much for the music as the books.

Martha is the author of three books: The Starfolk Arcana, Starfolk Falling, and standalone Wild Shadow.  She is currently working on Book 3 of The Starfolk Trilogy, Starfolk Rising.

You can keep up with Martha’s news, book releases and extra content at www.marthadunlop.com, or on her Amazon page, https://www.amazon.com/Martha-Dunlop/e/B08HN73S3D.

You can also find her on social media at:

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Follow the tour and comment. The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. Follow the tour HERE.

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Giveaway – The Kite by N R Walker @XpressoTours @NR_Walker

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The Kite
N.R. Walker
Publication date: June 28th 2022
Genres: Adult, LGBTQ+, Romance, Suspense

Ex-Australian Specialist Response Group, Tim “Harry” Harrigan, has been running covert ops for almost a decade. A lone wolf, he’s single-handedly taken down terrorists and national security threats, or so he thinks. He’s been in the game far too long, and when he sees a familiar threat, he knows his time is up.

Asher Garin is a dangerous man. A man without loyalty, a man without a nationality, without a country, or a home. He’s also a mercenary for hire to the highest bidder. His next job is a face he recognises, and after a tip-off, he learns he too is a marked man.

It’s a different game now, and Harry and Asher have a better chance at surviving if they stick together. But it’s not just the game or the rules that have changed. The stakes have too.

Because on their own, they had nothing to lose. Together, they do.

~

#EnemiesToLovers #GayAssassins #UsAgainstThem

Caution: on-page physical and gun violence. Reader discretion advised.

Goodreads / Purchase

—

EXCERPT:

Harry crossed the street. No one crossed after him, but whoever was after him was closer now.

He could feel it.

That cold stab of dread, sixth sense, gut feeling. Like icy fingers down his skin.

And if someone was after Harry, it wasn’t good. He was the hunter, never the hunted. If he was the mark . . .

Christ. He was the mark.

Harry ducked past two women, slipping through a narrow utility alley, and he ran. He was being chased now, silent and fast. At the end of the alley, he turned left and went through an open door, up a set of stairs to the roof, his heart hammering.

He ran along the roofline, exposed but faster than on the street. He heard footsteps chasing behind him but didn’t dare turn around, and as the muted whirr of a bullet pinged past his head, he jumped.

He knew the sound of that gun. It was a SIG Pro 9mm with a suppressor.

French special forces, standard issue.

He landed on a first-floor balcony, using his momentum to leap again, this time to the ground. Pain shot through his ankle but he kept moving, down another alley, and through an open door and into a darkened hall.

Hands grabbed him, spun him and pinned his back against the wall as the door closed behind him. In half a disorienting second, Harry pulled his gun to his assailant’s head at the same time he realised he had a pistol pressed against his.

Eyes flashed in the dark, familiar and close. A man’s body pressed him hard to the wall, their chests heaving. A hand covered his mouth.

“Shh.”

Harry didn’t dare breathe, his finger on the trigger, still aimed at the man’s head. The cold press of metal against Harry’s temple told him to wait.

The sound of feet outside came running. The crackle of a radio, a French voice just outside the door. “I’ve lost him.” The footsteps faded, and only after a long moment did the man move his hand from Harry’s mouth.

Harry could see then who it was.

Asher Garin.

Asher fucking Garin.

Adrenaline exploded through Harry’s veins and he started, pushing his pistol harder into Asher’s temple. Asher gnashed his teeth. Anger and defiance flashed in his eyes. “Keep quiet or you’ll kill us both,” Asher hissed, barely a whisper.

His words didn’t make sense.

Asher had saved him?

If there was anyone on the planet sent to kill Harry, it would be Asher. He was the only other man good enough. They were the top two government assassins in the world. Yet Asher had just saved him from the French?

Keep quiet or you’ll kill us both.

Both?

After an eternity, Asher released him, though he kept his pistol aimed at Harry’s head. “We need to get out of here,” he murmured.

Harry’s heart was thundering. His finger itched to pull the trigger. Itched. “The fuck?”

Asher held up his phone to show Harry the screen. “Sent to all agencies.” An assignment, just like any other. Just like any of the thousand he’d received in the last decade. Locations, dates, names, and photographs.

Two photographs.

Harry’s blood ran cold, and his eyes met Asher’s.

Asher nodded, his stare intense. “You and me; double hit. They want us dead. You’re a kite, and your government just cut you loose.”

Harry grappled with his fight or flight instinct, his heart hammering, his ankle throbbing. But given two men had just tried to kill him and the fact Asher hadn’t killed him—and the assignment on his phone screen—Harry could assume what Asher said was true.

Asher must have seen the realisation in Harry’s eyes because he slowly lowered his gun. Just an inch. “We need to trust each other,” he whispered. “The only chance we have is if we stick together. Can you do that?”

Trusting any other person went against every cell in Harry’s body, but what choice did he have? If he said no, one or both of them died right here. If the assignment was sent to all agencies, there wasn’t a country or government anywhere in the world that could protect them.

Harry had no choice.

Answering without a word, he took his finger off the trigger.


Author Bio:

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub


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Giveaway – Rogue by Tam DeRudder Jackson @XpressoTours

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Rogue
Tam DeRudder Jackson
(Talisman, #6)
Publication date: June 28th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Baz Cormac never intended to be a rogue, but fate had other ideas.

Being forced to pledge loyalty to the evil Morrigan is its own kind of hell. So when Baz discovers the lie she’s used to keep him and his band of rogues under her power, he concocts a plan to force the goddess’s hand, which drops him in the center of a cosmic tug-o-war. No matter which way he leans, someone is going to lose—and it looks like that someone may be Baz.

A talisman fights her fate…and her fatal attraction.

Delaney Ferrell has spent her life trying to live down her uncle’s choice to turn rogue. As a warrior-talisman hybrid, she’d done her best to serve the warrior community as a protector. But a cryptic letter sends her to an abandoned home where she encounters a lone rogue with fighting skills no rogue should possess. Instead of killing her, he kidnaps her and takes her to his lair. He presents a terrible danger to the community, one she must neutralize.

So why does he have to be so damn charming?

Discovering Delaney is his fated mate throws all of Baz’s plans into chaos. And when the goddesses come calling, Baz has to choose between a rogue’s freedom and a talisman’s love.

Will they have a chance at love, or will they be torn apart?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

The low rumble of a pickup pulling into the house next door brought Baz out of the barn to investigate. He’d managed to convince Rory and Jaime to take a little vacation to Vegas, hit a couple of strip clubs and casinos he knew rogues liked to frequent, and see about adding some new recruits to their little band. They could consider their trip a working vacation.

In the month they’d been away, he’d put his construction skills to work with his supernatural speed and stamina. With the exception of leveling the gravel on the floor of the barn, he’d finished his project in record time. Or perhaps in the nick of time if someone was looking to move in next door. He’d kept a close eye on Ian McCloud’s place, but until today, he hadn’t seen any activity there. Not a family member, not a realtor, not a curious someone looking to take advantage of an empty house.

He made several forays over to McCloud’s in the dead of night, looking to see what it was about the man that had the goddess’s interest. As a fighter, Ian McCloud was unremarkable from other warriors Baz had met on the battlefield. He knew the man was a widower with a small child, and that wasn’t all that attention-grabbing either. So why had the goddess keyed on him? Nothing Baz found in or around McCloud’s house had given him a clue.

The truck’s engine revved once before the driver shut it off. Simultaneously with the slamming of the truck’s door, the hair all over his body stood at attention, like a shock of static electricity zinged over him. Whoever was visiting McCloud’s house on this soft twilight evening was a member of the warrior community. Baz summoned his claymore to his hand and soundlessly made his way around the back of the neighboring property to investigate.

Whoever was visiting knew the place well. A beauty of a three-quarter-ton crew-cab pickup with a gleaming forest green paint job was parked on the tarmac in front of the double door of the garage behind the house. Through the glass of the outer back door, he could see the heavy oak inner door was wide open. The visitor was someone who wasn’t worried about being caught inside.

He debated cornering the warrior inside the house, but decided to wait from his place of concealment in the trees bordering the backyard. Though he’d been inside the house himself on more than one occasion, chances were whoever was there knew the place better than he did. Safer to wait and see who and what the person was and determine the level of threat. That the visitor was a threat he had no doubt. The hairs on his forearms and the back of his neck had remained standing ever since he’d heard the man cut the engine to his truck.

The truck was a beauty. His eyes strayed to the back door, and he wondered how much time he had to check it out. Taking a chance, he sheathed his sword in its scabbard on his back and vaulted through time and space to land on the driver’s side. He ran his hand along the paint of the fender and appreciated the tread on the tires. Though the truck was immaculately clean, whoever owned it used it to work—or play. He squatted low and checked out the suspension, confirming his suspicions that the truck was someone’s toy.

A quick glance inside the cab had him doing a double-take. He chuckled to himself. As close as the driver’s seat was pulled to the steering wheel, it was obvious the warrior who owned this rig was trying to make up for something he lacked. Baz adjusted his own package, and grinned. At six feet three with a wingspan to match, he could easily outmaneuver a warrior who had some distance to make up to reach six feet.

A sound near the back door sobered him up quick. He scanned the area for cover, sighting no bushes or flower beds or other hiding places near the house. Before he could visualize himself back to his hiding place at the back of the yard, a woman stepped through the door and pushed a key into the lock. With a flick of her wrist, she tested the handle and nodded. And stilled.

Time moved in slow motion as Baz catalogued the woman’s features. Long waves of chestnut-colored hair flowed over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Her orange T-shirt showed off toned shoulders and arms and a nipped-in waist where it was tucked into her jeans. Her jeans covered the sweetest ass he’d ever seen, rounded and perfect. Athletic. His hands itched to touch her. The dark navy wash of her jeans made her legs appear endless, and he wondered how they would feel wrapped around him. Before he could appreciate more of her, he caught the flash of a claymore as she summoned it to her hand the second before she faced him.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

He’d expected a scream. Instead, the woman’s soft alto washed over him, momentarily disarming him. That and the intensity of dark chocolate eyes in a perfect heart-shaped face. The last of the sun’s rays slanted off her sword, bringing him back to himself. This gorgeous woman was a warrior, a serious threat.

“I could ask you the same question.”


Author Bio:

Tam DeRudder Jackson is the author of the paranormal romance Talisman Series and the contemporary romance Balefire Series. Her favorite “room” in her house is her back patio where she dreams up stories of romance and risk. When she’s not writing her latest paranormal or contemporary romance, you can usually find her driving around with the top down in her convertible or carving turns on the slopes of the local ski hill. The mom of two grown sons, Tam likes to travel, attend rock concerts, watch football and soccer, and visit old car shows with her husband. She lives in the mountains of northwest Wyoming where she spends most of her free time trying to read all the books. Her TBR piles are threatening to take over her office, and she’s fine with that.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter


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Giveaway – Unconditional: A Love Story by Shon @XpressoTours

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Unconditional: A Love Story
Shon
Publication date: May 10th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Charli is everything Damian ever wanted.

Captivated from the moment they met, he allowed her to set the tone for their summer fling.

But when the summer was over and he wanted more, he soon found out that maybe his feelings were one-sided.

That was two years ago and he’s still stuck on Charli. He needs to move on.

A lot has changed since they last saw each other, but Damian can’t shake the what-ifs. And the moment they cross paths again he knows his heart still belongs to the elusive woman who stole it the first time he laid eyes on her.

Who’s to say they won’t get it right this time around?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

prologue.
summer2019

“We need to talk.”

Well, shit. That’s not good, Charli thought to herself as she continued pulling on her shorts.

She couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear those four fateful words from a boyfriend or a fuck buddy.

I guess I’m about to find out, was her wry thought as she finished zipping up the distressed jean shorts that barely covered her ass. With her eyes darting around the room to avoid eye contact with the man who claimed they needed to talk, she located one of her gold hoops on the rug.

Following her avoidant eyes, the other occupant of the room bent to pick it up before she had the chance.

“Thanks,” Charli spoke lowly as their fingers brushed during the exchange.

The warmth of his fingers led to a sharp inhale that she couldn’t even hide.

“Did you hear me?” the beautiful man in front of her wanted to know. “I said we need to talk,” he reiterated. Just in case.

But she’d heard him loud and clear the first time.

Sighing, Charli took a step back and shoved the earring into her pocket instead of trying to put it on right now.

“I heard you,” she said, trying to veil the worry in her voice.

What could Damian possibly want to talk about? And why couldn’t his timing be better? They’d just finished…making each other very happy. His scent still surrounded her and captivated her senses.

But now, the knots in her stomach quickly pushed her to forget the pleasure she’d just experienced.

“What do we need to talk about?” she finally asked meeting his green eyes. They were usually enchanting and full of lust when they were together, but now he looked…panicked?

No, it couldn’t be. Not cool, calm Damian.

Unless…

Had he found a girlfriend? Was he about to end their arrangement and politely tell her to get on with her life?

The thought wasn’t a pleasant one, but Charli couldn’t really blame him.

As an Ivy League dropout and ex-socialite, she didn’t really feel like she had much to offer aside from a good time.

She winced inwardly and vowed to deal with the origins of that problematic thought later. Much later. Not now when she was standing face to face with the man she’d been trading orgasms with all summer.

Damian regarded her from his towering height of six-two and even though she was five-eight she felt miniscule under his unwavering gaze.

“It’s about us,” he revealed, “I need to talk to you about what we’re doing.”

Charli gulped but didn’t break eye contact. She could do this. She could have a civilized, adult conversation with someone she shared every inch of her body with on an almost daily basis at this point.

“What about us? I like what we’re doing.” Charli pushed her hair away from her face. She hated the sensation of stray strands tickling her cheeks.

Damian exhaled sharply and gave a faint nod. “Yea, I did too. Until recently.”

Ouch.

Charli straightened her shoulders and prepared for the next words, somehow knowing they would pack a devastating blow.

But nothing could have prepared her for what he said next.

Author Bio:

Shon is a graduate of the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. She used her degree in English Literature for eight years to teach English all around the world. She has recently returned home to the States and now she spends all her time reading or writing down her wildest daydreams.


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