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Friday
Jul182014

Sizzling Scenes: BRIDE UNDONE by Kate Deveaux


BRIDE UNDONE
by Kate Deveaux


ISBN 9781419903540 | Ellora's Cavepublished April 11, 2014

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Amazon | B & N

Reader Warning: Sizzling Scenes are for mature audiences.
Excerpts may be explicit with explicit language

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Sometimes the best cure for cold feet is a hot Texan…

In one week Chloe will walk down the aisle. Yet she’s a bride who can’t stop spying on the weddings of total strangers. Desperate to catch a glimpse of what true love really looks like, she is having serious second thoughts about tying the knot.

Until she meets Wes — the sexy long lost father of her groom. The hunk from Texas confirms her worst fears. She is marrying the wrong man.

Battling her intense attraction for Wes, the flame between them burns too hot to resist. Chloe and Wes give into their scorching passion and struggle with the consequences of their love.

Ready for a SIZZLING SCENE?

The door opened and Chloe jumped.

 “Chloe?” Wes said in surprise. He froze in the doorway, his jaw tight and his eyes dark.

“Wes, I had to come talk to you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He nervously glanced out into the hall. “I told you I’m sorry.” He stepped inside the room, leaving the door wide open.

He walked over to his desk and rested his fingers on the glass. “We really shouldn’t be together. I’m leaving today.”

“No, no, Wes.” She moved toward him. “It’s not your fault.”

Wes’ eyes changed from amber to dark espresso. “I have to get to a board meeting. Please go, Chloe.”

Her eyes searched his and she saw pain in his dark gaze. “I can’t.” She moved one step closer to him.

Wes shook his head. “I shouldn’t have come for the wedding. None of this would have happened.”

“Yes...yes, you should have.” A hint of desperation crept through her. “Well actually, there isn’t going to be a wedding, but that’s not your fault.” She searched for the right words. “I was having second thoughts before you ever arrived. I was going to churches and watching complete strangers get married. The wedding was doomed before you ever got here.” Her words tumbled out faster than she could think them.

Wes said nothing but his raised eyebrows and taut neck muscles told her she wasn’t getting through to him.

“I knew what Conner and I had wasn’t right, that there was something missing.” She knew she was babbling but she had to let him know how she felt. “I have feelings for you, Wes...feelings I can’t hide. You probably think I’m crazy, spying on strangers’ weddings, but it just wasn’t right, me and Conner. And when I met you I knew. The minute I met you.” Tears welled in her eyes.

Wes looked stunned, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. She thought he was going to bolt from the room. He stood there staring at her before striding quickly toward the open door.

Instead of leaving, he paused and looked back at her and then shut the door and deliberately pressed the lock button. He said nothing, just turned on his heels and walked back to his desk, placing his hand on the phone.

Shit, he was going to phone Conner. He was going to keep her there captive in his office and call Conner and tell him what a nut bar his fiancée was.

Immobile, she watched him as he picked up the phone.

“Marie. Cancel the board meeting.” He looked up at Chloe and they locked eyes. Chloe’s stomach flipped and she started to tremble as Wes spoke into the phone. “Some new information came and in and I need time to review it. Send them all back downstairs, will you?”

He hung up the phone and stood behind the desk, his posture tense. Chloe’s heart pounded in her chest.

“Chloe,” he said gently, coming around the front of the desk, but carefully keeping his distance from her.

“You might have cold feet. Everyone does. It’s natural.” His eyes softened to amber but she could see the tension in his taut neck muscles remained, belying his calm tone. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

Dammit. How dare he think he’d led her on? How dare he discount her feelings so casually and sound so condescending? She knew he felt it when they kissed. And he must be scared. She was too. His expression hardened and she braced for his rebuke.

Wes looked at her, but was silent.

“Wes, it’s not your fault.” She struggled to convince him. “But I can’t marry your son. I have feelings for you and I can’t ignore them. I don’t want to.” She stepped toward him, praying he didn’t push her away.

He didn’t move, just stood there stone-faced.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.” She gazed at his chiseled face, his strong jaw, the flicker of gold in his eyes making her melt inside as they turned tender.

“Chloe,” he said softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You feel it too, don’t you?” She narrowed the space between them until she could feel the heat off his body and the thrum of his pulse.

“F**k,” he cursed as he looked down at his cowboy boots and then slowly back up at her. He shook his head as if in defeat and pulled her to him. He pressed her body hard against his, jarring her with the impact, but loving the strength in his embrace.

His lips met hers and he kissed her, hard and demanding. “Chloe,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her and making her body hum with desire. “Yes, I feel it too.” One hand smoothed the hair from her face, the other cupped her ass firmly as he pulled her harder to him and parted her waiting lips with his tongue.

She welcomed his tongue eagerly as she grabbed his broad shoulders, running her hands along his strong back, feeling the muscles ripple under her fingers as he moved her across the room while kissing her.

The backs of her legs met the edge of the couch as he hovered over her, pushing her down as he kissed her lips hungrily, then down her neck, trailing his lips along her décolleté. It was if he was going to devour her and she ached for it.

 

 

 

 

Learn More:

Author website:
http://www.katedeveaux.com

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kate-Deveaux/349294291841235

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/KateDeveaux

Pinterest:
http://pinterest.com/katedeveaux

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/7126956.Kate_Deveaux

Thursday
Jul172014

The Romance Buzz: ONCE IN A BLUE MOON by Delilah Devlin

From New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes a sexy new series set in the bayou and teeming with supernatural goodness. Meet the first of five sister-witches as she meets her one true love in Once Upon A Blue Moon...

 


ONCE IN A BLUE MOON
by Delilah Devlin

Featured Book


 
Order now:
Amazon

When testing an enemy for weaknesses, prepare for things to get hard.

Beaux Rêve Coven, Book 1

Bryn Cavanaugh and her coven like that the community they live in is isolated thanks to a storm that destroyed the bridge between them and the outside world. Now the state wants the bridge rebuilt. When the construction crew checks into the inn, Bryn begins to suspect something about the crew’s boss isn’t quite…human.

Bridges are Ethan Thorne’s thing—after all, he’s a troll—so building a simple span over a remote canal in backwater Louisiana shouldn’t be this much of a problem. When he follows the pretty little innkeeper to a midnight
rendezvous, he discovers why his crew keeps running into trouble. Bryn and her coven are casting spells in the moonlight.  

As a troll, Ethan feels the sting of his low place in demon hierarchy. But finding an unprotected coven of witches in the middle of the bayou could lead to all sorts of adventure. And it’s better to keep your enemies close...

Warning: Contains a handsome troll (Hey, it can happen!) who’s skilled at building sexual tension with his hands—and several other body parts, as well—and a witch who’s determined to protect her home, but forgets to shield her heart.

To learn more:

Read an excerpt!
Delilah’s Website: http://www.delilahdevlin.com/
Delilah’s Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/DelilahDevlinFanPage
Delilah’s Twitter: http://twitter.com/DelilahDevlin


Wednesday
Jul162014

New Adult Romance: Light in the Shadows

Learn More!

Light in the Shadows

Learn More!In the bestselling sequel to Find You in the Dark, A. Meredith Walters continues the emotional story of Maggie, Clay, and the power of unconditional love.

How do you keep going when you feel like your life is over?

Maggie never thought she’d see Clay again. So, she attempts to put her life back together after her heart has been shattered to pieces. Moving on and moving forward, just as Clay wanted her to. Clay never stopped thinking of Maggie. Even after ripping their lives apart and leaving her behind to get the help he so desperately needed. He is healing…slowly. But his heart still belongs to the girl who tried to save him.

Wednesday
Jul092014

(Day 3) Special Edition Romance Previews: WYATT'S WAR by Myla Jackson

Let's set the stage for today's excerpt:

Fiona is the event coordinator for an International Trade Convention in San Antonio, TX. This is her show to run and prove herself to promote her event coordination business. Nothing can get in the way of her success, especially a stranger double- booked in her hotel room, no matter how sexy.

Scroll down to read Excerpt 3 of 5

 

 

WYATT'S WAR
by Myla Jackson

July 8, 2014 Release

Order Now:

Samhain Publishing | Amazon Kindle | Nook | Kobo

 

Hearts & Heroes, Book 1

After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers: MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com

Website | Facebook | Newsletter

 

Excerpt 3

Fiona swiped her card and entered the room first, every nerve cell in her body completely aware of the man behind her. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t share a room with a perfect stranger.

And based on her earlier observations of his naked body, he was perfect in every physical way possible. All the more reason why she couldn’t sleep in the same room with him.

Hell, sleep would be the furthest thing from her mind. As another thought occurred to her, her pulse leapt and heat rose up her throat into her cheeks. Did he sleep naked? Holy hell.

She made an abrupt about face. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”

“So you’ll be leaving?” he asked.

“No, you will.”

He shook his head. “I’ve done my share of sleeping on the hard ground. I’m in a hotel, not a campground. If you want to leave and let me have the room, fine.”

A knock on the door made Fiona jump.

Wyatt opened it to a bellboy with the rollaway.

Just when she didn’t think it could be worse, the bellboy had to be prompt.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

Wyatt pointed to a space near the desk and an easy chair. “Right there for now.”

The bellboy parked the bed where indicated and left the room before Fiona spoke again.

“You’re not staying,” she said.

“Relax. You’ll barely know I’m here.”

Like hell. He was all she could focus on. His broad shoulders practically filled the room, making it feel smaller with each breath she inhaled. “Look, I’m not happy about this situation. I like my space and, frankly, you’re invading it.”

“I’m here for the job, sweetheart, not you. Besides…” he cupped her cheek with his big, callused hand, “…you’re not my type.”

The warmth of his hand on her face made her want to lean into his palm, until his words hit her like a splash of chilled water. She straightened away from that dratted hand. “What do you mean?”

“About the job or the type?” He grinned, raising her ire another notch.

“Not your type? Just what is your type?”

His grin broadened, those full, kissable lips doing funny things to her insides. “Well, you got part of it right earlier. The naked part. But I also like my women willing.” He winked, grabbed his duffle bag and dropped it on the rollaway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pay a visit to my buddy with the dogs.”

“And I have to head over to my office for an hour or two.” She glanced around the room again before shooting a narrow-eyed glare at him. “Don’t touch my things.”

He gave her mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean…Fiona.” He cupped her cheek again and leaned in until his lips hovered over hers. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Knowing it was all wrong but unable to stop herself, she leaned closer until their lips connected. A jolt of electricity shot through her, instantly heating places she’d thought cold for a long time.

Wyatt’s hand slipped behind her neck and he applied pressure, his mouth taking hers in a deep, satisfying kiss.

When his tongue swept across hers, she opened eagerly, her tongue greeting his hungrily. Her brain disengaged and her body took over. Fiona slid her hands up his chest. When she should have been shoving him away, she linked her fingers behind his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest. She slid her leg up the back of his, her pussy pressing against the thick muscle of his thigh, an ache building deep in her core.

Wyatt’s hands slipped beneath her shirt and up her ribs, his thumbs brushing against her breasts. In that moment, she wished she was as naked as she’d been at their earlier meeting. The way he touched her made the bones in her legs dissolve. Why did he have to be so damned attractive with his muscular body and high-and-tight haircut? Couldn’t the government find a white-haired old man to oversee the security of this shindig? She could handle that.

When he broke off the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers and chuckled. “I didn’t see that coming.”

Knowing she was as much at fault for initiating that kiss as he was, she stepped away, scrubbing her hands down the front of her skirt. If he hadn’t backed off first, where would that kiss have led? Butterfly wings beat against the insides of her belly and her glance darted to the bed, and a sharp pull of longing swelled inside. This was wrong on so many levels. She wasn’t sure how sharing a room with Wyatt would turn out, but it couldn’t end up good.

Or it could end up way too good… Her insides tightened and a thrill of anticipation raced through her body. How long had it been since she’d had sex?

No, this was not how she envisioned this event starting.

Eager to get to the office and out of the overwhelming presence of Wyatt Magnus, she moved toward the door. “Gotta go.”

“Me too.”

She held up her hand. “For the sake of sanity, give me a head start. I need some time to think.”

“As you wish, darlin’,” he said with a serious poker face. Then he ruined it with a sexy grin. “Hopefully, you’ll spend some time thinking of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back at him. Then she made a dash for the elevator before he could see the blush rising in her cheeks, or notice how she couldn’t keep her gaze off him. Fiona knew what lay beneath the clothing and the thought of him lying in a bed near hers, possibly naked… Well, it didn’t bear imagining. Nothing was going to happen. She had far more serious things to worry about than if he would make a pass at her. Or worse…that he wouldn’t make a pass.

As she stepped into the elevator, she shot a glance down the hallway. Wyatt stood at the doorway of their room, a smile still fixed to his face that broadened when her gaze met his.

Damn. He’d caught her staring.

A warm, rich chuckle filled the hallway, like he knew the secret of what was to come later that night.

Fiona dove into the elevator, her cheeks burning, a place farther south flaming to life.

Holy hell. How was she going to get through the next few days with Wyatt Magnus’s larger than life body to bump into everywhere she turned?

© 2014 Myla Jackson


(excerpt continued on Thursday)

Wednesday
Jul092014

A Coffee Break Chapter: VERY WICKED THINGS by Ilsa Madden-Mills

   
   

VERY WICKED THINGS
by Ilsa Madden-Mills


Publisher: Little Dove; First Edition (May 11, 2014)
ASIN: B00KA0AGJK on Amazon
ISBN: 9780990368410

From New York Times bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills comes VERY WICKED THINGS, a sizzling standalone novel in the Briarcrest Academy series. This new adult romance is dark and edgy with mature content. Over 18 readers only, please.

On sale for .99 cents! 75% off of retail!

Order now:
Amazon
|
B&N | iBooks

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Ballerina Dovey Beckham is a scholarship student at Briarcrest Academy, determined to prove she's more than just a girl with the wrong pedigree. She does whatever it takes to succeed in her endgame, even if it means surrendering her body but never her heart. 

Until the day she meets him, and he rips apart all her well-laid plans. Suddenly, the girl everyone thought unbreakable might just shatter. 


Cuba "Hollywood" Hudson is rich, spoiled, and a star football player. With his fast cars and superficial girlfriends, he lives the high-life, hiding his secrets from the world. 

Until the day he meets her, and she offers him something he's never tasted...love. 

But once in a lifetime kind of love doesn't come easy...especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling. 

Welcome to Briarcrest Academy, where sometimes, only the wicked survive. 

"Angst, dark secrets, and off the charts sexiness abound in this twisty installment of the Briarcrest Academy Series. First love never sounded so hot and good. Ilsa never disappoints!" ~Shanora Williams, New York Times Bestselling Author 

"Cuba is hot, delicious, and intoxicating...the perfect book boyfriend. Be prepared for a heartbreaking and addictive read." ~Tijan, New York Times Bestselling Author 

 

Read an excerpt:

Very Wicked Things

(A Standalone Briarcrest Academy Novel)  

Cuba was part of the beautiful people, and I was fooling myself if I believed for one minute he’d love me back. Rich boys don’t fall for poor girls.” –Dovey Beckham

Chapter 1
Dovey

A cold rain drenched me in seconds as I raced from my car to the front doors of Briarcrest Academy. That’s what I got for parking my beat-up car in BFE. But it was preferable to parking next to an import or a luxury car. At least in the overflow parking, I didn’t have to worry about accidentally dinging a hundred thousand dollar car with my door. But most of all, I didn’t have to worry about running into him. He always parked in the closest lot, the one designated for seniors.

Prestigious and old, Briarcrest Academy was hailed as one of the most academically excellent schools in Texas. Against a backdrop of stately oak trees and carefully maintained shrubbery, the austere grey stones ushered in the privileged to its hallowed halls. Calling me privileged was downright funny, yet here I am, finishing up my last year.

I pushed through the entry and continued down the hallway to my locker. One of the football jocks—Matt the Quarterdick I called him in my head—whistled at me as I passed. As if. The star quarterback at BA, he was the epitome of the handsome, frat boy type. I avoided him.

I’d already learned a painful lesson with a certain rich boy at BA.

When I’d first come to BA, like most girls, I’d entertained thoughts—briefly—of meeting a hot guy, kinda like a Taylor Lautner type with a warm smile and perfect abs. He’d see me breeze through the door, and he’d break his neck to rush to my side. He’d introduce me to his friends, even the female ones, who’d be just as welcoming. Maybe he’d try and smell my hair without me knowing or offer to sing to me even when he couldn’t carry a tune. He’d drive a fast car and own his own penthouse where he’d promptly invite me over for a candlelight dinner. He’d sprinkle roses out in a trail to his bedroom. Yeah, I’m no beauty and that scenario only happens in the movies.

I stopped in my tracks ten feet from my locker.

Not today. Not with my plastered hair and wet shoes that squeaked when I walked.

He was there, his big shoulders and well-toned biceps taking up most of the space and all of my air.Yes,brooding and sexy, Cuba Hudson was serious man-candy, the kind good girls knew to stay away from. But I hadn’t. Within the space of a few weeks last year, he’d wooed me, screwed me, and then tossed me in the trash.

Perhaps running or hiding would be good now, but then I’d be late for class.

I marched up to my locker and flung it open with a metallic bang, making him flinch.

Of course, I immediately smelled him, a woodsy, expensive scent that wafted around him, bringing back a time I didn’t want to remember. One whiff and a thousand memories assaulted me, of how he’d incinerated me. I held my breath for a few seconds until I decided that was straight-up stupid. I had to breathe because it would suck if I passed out at his feet.

So what if he smelled delicious? I could handle it. I knew his game now. He had a knack for being a playa and…

Tingles skipped up my spin, and as if it were choreographed, every hair on my body lifted in perfect unison. For the first time in a year, my peripheral vision saw his head turn and sensed his golden eyes behind those shades, running over my body, lingering uninvited.

He had actually looked at me.

I stared into the recesses of the locker, my mind reeling.

Why today?

For months, like I was toxic, he gave me plenty of leeway in the classrooms, the cafeteria, and the quad. He’d see me coming from twenty yards, and he’d turn around and go the other way. If our eyes accidentally bumped into each other’s in class, his never paused, just kept right on trucking.

He hated me and I didn’t know why.

Well, maybe I did.

Even without glancing at him, I knew his visage by heart. The soft dark hair with sun-tinted highlights, wavy and overgrown enough to label him as a bad boy by BA standards, and his absurdly long lashes that rested on his sun-kissed skin. He reminded me of the Greek gods, the ones with patrician noses, high foreheads, and aloof expressions. They’d sit up in there in lofty clouds and gaze down at the lowly mortals. Because they think they’re better than you. And here’s a tip: nine times out of ten, when a god gets with a mortal, nothing good comes from it. Well, the sex maybe, but once that’s over, most humans suffer a horrible death or die from a broken heart. Gods tended to ditch them for some other prettier mortal, or better yet, a goddess. Screw them all, especially fancy goddesses, I say.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him turn back to his locker, his arm muscles flexing like liquid steel as he pilfered through it like he was in a hurry. Ha. He was probably freaking out because of our proximity. Which I’d found interesting at first when his No Looking at Dovey campaign began, but had long since given up trying to figure him out.

Perhaps that’s not the entire truth. I ached to know why he’d played his head games with me; I ached to have his eyes see me.

Being sneaky, I slid my gaze over him. He was built like a god, too, with muscles that absolutely pulsed with a tangible sexuality. He was lickable. I can’t deny it. But the kicker was how in tune he was with the female heart, how he innately knew how to pose his physique for optimal viewing. Some people are born knowing the right stance and gestures that capture your eyes, hypnotize you with every step. Making you entertain the idea of him. Of being his.

It’s impossible though. He laid his heart at no girl’s feet. Hadn’t he told me so?

So yeah, no way was I turning to face him. Nope. Just gonna stand here and pretend he was a rock and think of unsexy things, like the frog I had to dissect in science this week or the test I had in Calculus.

It was over between us.

He selected a book from his locker and promptly dropped it, making me think he was as anxious as I was. With a grimace, he bent down to pick it up, his head at my knees. I immediately stiffened at his closeness.

Then his warm fingers slid up, up my calf, stopping at the top of my upper thigh, just at the hemline of my skirt. And my skirts are short, which meant his hand was nearly to my panties.

I flinched and pulled away. Even though his touch had lit me on fire.

And I hated him for it, for making me still want him.

Long seconds passed as I waited for him to stand and face me, my head screaming at me to just walk away now, to snub him like he did me every day. A rush of adrenaline kicked in because I’d fantasized this moment a thousand times in my head. Images of me spitting in his face came to mind.

He stood.

He eased off his ridiculously expensive sun-glasses.

Don’t look at him.

Gazing at him was suicide for your soul.

But basic need won out over self-preservation, and my blue eyes crashed into his amber ones straight-on, the force of his gaze making my chest tightened.

Tick, tock.

Time passed, maybe a minute or two. I really don’t know because everything but him zoomed out.As we studied each other,the sounds of students going to and fro and teachers starting class faded, leaving only us and the sounds of our breathing. The rumbling sound of thunder from the storm outside registered briefly, but then it disappeared as my vision narrowed in on him, blacking out everything. This was it, the moment I’d dreamed about, the moment I could lie and tell him that the way he’d destroyed me hadn’t really hurt. My heart was still in my chest; it still beat.

I licked my lips, accusatory words rising up in my throat, but I swallowed down my bitterness at the expression on his chiseled face. And even though I remembered clearly what he’d done to me, it got all mixed up—and I deflated.

Cuba Hudson, the hottest, richest, most popular guy on campus looked as broken as I felt.

© Ilsa Madden-Mills

 

Author Bio:

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.

She spends her days with two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.

When she's not crafting a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.

She loves to hear from fans and fellow authors.

Sign up for her newsletter (sent out less than five times a year) to receive info about sales, new releases, and of course those FREE bonus scenes and stories!

You can stalk her/sign up here:

ilsamaddenmills.com

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Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills