Morgan Bentley is a bastard. Matthew knows this absolutely—until he doesn’t.
Matthew and his friend Cory are thrilled to attend one of the most prestigious universities in the UK. On their pre-entry visit, they met Morgan Bentley and his stuck-up friends. Matthew takes an instant dislike to the arrogant, conceited, self-obsessed, beautiful, intelligent, and charismatic boy. Throughout the next year, Matthew harbours his dislike, never missing the opportunity to complain to his best friend, Cory, what a bastard Morgan is.
Then, an unexpected turn of events catapults Matthew, Morgan, and Cory into a nightmare, and all the things Cory had said about Matthew’s true feelings about Morgan come crashing down on his head, and he realizes that what he thought was hatred and anger was, in fact, growing attraction and begrudging admiration. But when the deadly nature of the elusive Project X is revealed, it seems their budding romance is doomed before it begins, as one of them is unlikely to survive.
Morgan Bentley was a bastard. An utter,
complete, A-one, cut-glass bastard. He was arrogant, selfish, cold,
standoffish, cruel, and completely heartless. His history was peppered with
broken hearts and broken people attesting to the fact. There was no doubt about
it—he was a bastard.
Morgan didn’t have any friends. What he had
was an entourage: people who cared less for the person he was than for the
prestige his company brought. At the moment he had a girlfriend, the undoubted
Alpha Female of the university, a bitch called Charlotte Lethbridge, whose
father owned half of Mayfair. The relationship wouldn’t last, though. They
never did. And next week it could just as easily be a boyfriend.
No one ever said no to Morgan. No one
outside his circle of “friends” ever said anything at all unless he invited
them to, which he rarely ever did.
Cory often said Morgan was sad—he had to
be. He had to be lonely and sad because he had no real friends, no lasting
relationships, no one to share with. Not like us. Sometimes I had to stop
myself laughing when he said that. Morgan Bentley sad? Not bloody likely. He
had everything. I mean everything.
His father was a research chemist, heading
a huge multinational corporation. They manufactured drugs and engaged in
research projects, sometimes for the government. I think that’s why Cory was so
fascinated with Morgan. He was getting a degree in biochemistry and wanted to
be a researcher himself. Cory was awesome…but he had flaws, and his
fascination with Morgan was one of them. Personally, I wouldn’t care if I never
saw his smug face ever again. Hell, I’d have been so much happier if I hadn’t.
Cheryl was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.
Cheryl has always
been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her family and they’d
explore the imaginary worlds she created in play.
Later in life, Cheryl
became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a
taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around
hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all
kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was
sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.
It was here she
began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In
ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the
storyteller was the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive.
Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to
the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.
In present times, Cheryl lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son, dog, bearded dragon and cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. She’s never been happier since she was made redundant and is able to devote herself entirely to her twin loves of writing and art, with a healthy smattering of magic and mayhem.
For a different perspective on how Morgan
felt about that initial meeting you might like to read the Prequel. This gives
away spoilers if you haven’t read the book, but is a nice, currently free, introduction to the boys and how their
different perspectives work.
Thank you very much for hosting me here today. My name is Elizabeth Black, and I’d like to introduce you to my GLBT paranormal shifter romance, Full Moon Fever. Enjoy!
William Shakespeare said All the world’s a stage, but he hadn’t counted on shifters under a theater’s hot lights. Lovers Sam Hightower and Grant Newsome live for the stage. Although they have enjoyed the wanderlust of traveling theater for many years, each has grown tired of the road and wants to settle down. They also have a secret. As shifters and no part of any pack, they are lone wolves in every sense of the word. The full moon brings out the beast in them.
Even though their work as gaffers—lighting techs—puts them in contact with a large variety of willing, sexy men and women to share their love, they prefer men. They find a dancer, Luke Pearce, who makes their blood run hot, but Luke has a secret of his own to test them. Add scenic artists and lovers Charlotte and Lina to the mix, and you have a wild and sexy fivesome.
To spoil their fun and to their surprise, Sam and Grant discover another shifter in their midst, but this young person is so inexperienced and terrified she could expose them to the human hunters and get them killed. How can Sam and Grant protect themselves as well as the people they love?
After many decades, Grant had grown weary of running and hiding, and that evening drove his melancholia home harder than ever.
There he sat with Sam in the Portland forest, part human and part wolf, smoking and drinking, waiting for their meal to appear. Grant sat in front of Sam while Sam rubbed his shoulders.
So much had changed over time. Now, he relied on his iPhone to keep track of moon phases. Before his trip to Freiberg, he hadn’t even noticed the moon in the sky at all. No matter where he lived or toured, he had taken to hiding out in the nearest forest on those couple of nights each month when the blood lust took over his mind and body. No one was safe when he transformed, and he did what he could to avoid harming people. A deer or stray dog quenched his blood lust while he hid from the world in the safety of the deepest area of the forest, waiting until the full moon decayed the five percent he needed to be out of trouble. He only transformed at night, and his gallon jug of monkshood rye alleviated his symptoms somewhat, but in the end, he knew he was a danger and needed to hide, not only to avoid killing people but to keep away from the local authorities.
He crouched on the forest floor, swatting the black flies that bit through his thick fur. He wished there were some way of reversing the curse thrust upon him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at home with Sam, drink some beer, and watch a porn flick while making love to Sam again. He cursed his bad timing and rotten luck. He could say “if only” until the tides reversed. Nothing would change the fact that he would go feral every full moon. While he accepted his fate, he did not like it at all. Each full moon he fell into a rage that often came with thoughts of suicide, but when he thought of Sam and his sweet nature and even sweeter body, he realized he had reason to stay alive.
Sam sat next to him, smoking a cigarette, and Grant handed him the jug. Why did Sam seem to take to the change better than he? Or did he really take to it better? What if Sam only pretended so that Grant wouldn’t feel so bad? Misery loved company, but Sam, being a good-natured sort, didn’t wallow in sorrow. He considered the moonlit change a monthly inconvenience, much like some women considered their menstrual cycles. An irritant. If only Grant felt the same way.
Sam gulped as he drank, making slurping noises that grated in Grant’s ears. Sometimes Grant considered the potion the only control he had over his life.
“I feel miserable. I hate the full moon,” Grant said. “Sometimes I just want to curl up and die.”
“It will last only another day or two and then things will be back to normal.”
“What kind of normal is this kind of life?” Grant let his chin rest on his chest as Sam rubbed the kinks out of his shoulders. “My entire body hurts. The monkshood rye helps, but I’m as sore as I know I’ll be every month.”
“I know what you mean. We need something strong for the pain, like morphine, but I don’t know where to get it.”
“I’d rather have cyanide.”
“Don’t talk like that. We can get through this.”
Grant groaned in ecstasy as Sam’s fingers rubbed down his spine. Even though his entire body ached and he wanted to do nothing more than sleep for the next two days, his cock reacted to Sam’s amorous touch, growing larger and becoming sensitive to the slightest touch.
“Hey, I found a great movie for us to watch,” Sam said. “The Brotherhood of the Wolf. I figured it was the perfect movie for our time of the month.”
“Never heard of it.”
Sam turned to Grant and gave him a look Grant was all too familiar with. It was the you’ve got to be shitting me look, since Sam enjoyed relishing in the ways of the world much more than Grant.
“You can’t be serious. What kind of werewolf are you when you’ve never heard of The Brotherhood of the Wolf?”
“I just don’t get into those kinds of movies. I like action movies. You know that.”
“Tell you what. I’ll bring it home in a day or two, and we’ll watch it. It’s really good, and it won’t gross you out.” He grinned. “It’s French, too.”
“That means it has subtitles. I hate reading subtitles. No thanks, I’ll pass.”
“How about An American Werewolf in London?”
“I told you, no werewolf movies. I’d rather watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels again.”
“How about The Transporter Two? I hear it’s so bad it’s good. What about that one?”
Grant shuffled on the ground, picked up the jug of monkshood rye, and gulped some down. Pointedly ignoring Sam, he gazed into the forest, hoping something big and tasty would come out soon. Maybe a deer if they got lucky. He was famished, and he wanted to eat rather than waste time and energy talking about movies he didn’t like.
“C’mon, what do you say? It’s got Jason Statham in it. You like him.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Just no werewolf movies, please. What got into you to watch werewolf movies when the moon is full? That’s like watching Rosemary’s Baby when you’re pregnant.”
“I like to have fun with it, rather than mope about like you. You wallow in it. My first werewolf, and you turn out to be overly sensitive.”
“Oh, knock it off.” His sensitive ears picked up rustling in the brush several yards ahead. “Now shush. I hear food in the bushes. Shh.”
A ‘possum emerged from the brush, oblivious to the danger that lurked only a few yards away. Grant had not tasted ‘possum in several months, and he welcomed the change. He needed to eat meat when he shifted, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself by eating his neighbor’s pets or any animals that would be missed. That left the usual gopher, raccoon, or rat if they missed getting anything in the woods.
What I would do for some fresh venison, though.
He eyed up the unsuspecting creature’s flesh, salivating so much he could almost taste its meat, red and bloody, raw and metallic. Inching in, ever so slowly, so as to not so much as break a twig, he crept towards the ‘possum, and when he was ready to pounce, he heard a loud ka-boom from behind.
The ‘possum shrieked and fled into the forest. Birds flew from the trees. Furious, Grant turned on his heels and growled at Sam.
“Dammit, Sam, you sneezed, and that ‘possum got away from me.”
“I couldn’t help it. Allergies. I took Claritin early evening before we changed, but I guess I need a prescription.”
“Ya think? If you sneeze again and drive away a perfectly good meal, I might have to disembowel you myself.”
“C’mon, I said I was sorry. Lie back and I’ll make it up to you.”
Grant stretched out on the grass, arms behind his head and legs extended, waiting for Sam’s gentle touch. When Sam’s hand stroked his chest, his heart skipped a couple of beats. Even Sam’s slightest touch aroused him. His cock jumped a little, in anticipation of what he knew was coming.
The sex will take my mind off my hunger. There’s nothing as distracting as a good blow job, especially from Sam.
Grant relished Sam’s exquisite blow jobs, and he knew Sam would not disappoint him.
I need him, need his touch on me, anything to take my mind off this burning need for flesh.
Sam’s lips brushed Grant’s shoulder, then traveled down his chest to rest near his groin. Closing his eyes to fully enjoy Sam’s kiss, he waited for those soft lips to reach his cock.
Brushing against his head in tight, slow circles, Sam’s lips wrapped around Grant’s cock, and in response Grant dug his fingers into the earth. With a gentle movement, those lips and mouth stroked his shaft, making it jump in Sam’s mouth.
No other man ever had this kind of effect on me. I can’t resist the mere touch of him against me.
Sam’s tongue, slick and warm, flicked in circles around Grant’s shaft. His erection grew harder as Sam’s tongue moved faster around him. Sam alternated between stroking Grant’s shaft with his tongue, then sucking hard on his head, all the while rolling his balls in his hand.
Moaning with pleasure, Grant tensed as Sam took all of him deep into his mouth, sucking and licking, driving him wild. Grabbing Sam’s head in his hands, he pushed him harder against his cock, taking in his entire length. The approaching orgasm made his heart race, but the sounds of motors interrupted his passion. Grant opened his eyes in time to see a shooting star skitter below the full moon.
Elizabeth Black writes erotica, erotic romance, speculative fiction, fantasy, dark fiction, and horror. Her erotic fiction has been published by Xcite Books (U. K.), House Of Erotica (U. K.), Circlet Press, eXtasy Books, Ravenous Romance, Riverdale Avenue Books, Scarlet Magazine (U. K.), and other publishers. She also enjoys writing retellings of classic fairy tales, including her two self-published fairy tales “Trouble In Thigh High Boots” (Puss In Boots) and “Climbing Her Tower” (Rapunzel). An accomplished essayist, she was the sex columnist for the pop culture e-zine nuts4chic (U. K.). Her articles about sex, erotica, and relationships have appeared in Good Vibrations Magazine, Alternet, CarnalNation, the Ms. Magazine Blog, Novelspot, The Erotic Readers and Writers Association Blog, Sexis Magazine, On The Issues, Sexy Mama Magazine, and Circlet blog.
I am so happy to be here to chat with you about the latest release in the At the Shore series, NEVER A BRIDE. I had so much fun writing this story about Emma, a wedding planner who doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after, and Carlo, her best friend and kind-of-business partner.
I have to confess that from the moment that Carlo stepped onto the page I fell in love with him. I knew he was the perfect match for Emma. Carlo is patient, kind, hard-working, and totally sexy.
Carlo is Emma’s best friend and the caterer she depends on to help her plan perfect weddings and events for others. Emma loves spending time with Carlo and with his large and loving Portuguese family. You might be wondering why this hero’s name is Carlo and not Carlos and the reason is that his mom had a thing for Italian names when she decided to name Carlo and his two younger brothers, Paolo and Tomas. Speaking of younger brothers, I can’t wait to write a spin-off to the series featuring younger bad boy Paolo and Army Ranger Tomas. You’ll get to meet them as well in NEVER A BRIDE!
Emma is a tough nut about romance, but like I said before, Carlo is patient and kind. I loved Carlo’s determination, but I also loved how he came to understand Emma’s fears and proved to her that he is the kind of man who will be by her side no matter what.
I hope you will come to love Carlo as much as I did (and as much as Emma did)!
shot toward her head like a spaceship launched at the moon.
had no time to deflect the missile. She tangled her fingers into the luscious
petals of the peonies, roses, and hydrangea, rousing fragrant floral scents as
the bouquet grazed her face. When she was in wedding planner mode, she would
have taken the time to appreciate the freshness of the blooms, but tonight she
was also a bridesmaid and best friend and totally unhappy about her current
fisted in her hand, Emma whirled to face her other best friend and maid of
honor, Connie Reyes, who with a subtle hip check, had knocked Emma straight
into the path of the flying tussie mussie. “I thought you were my friend!”
“Totally,” Connie said with a broad smile
and waltzed off to the side of the dance floor to where Carlo Gonzalez, her
caterer extraordinaire and longtime man crush, stood with some of his wait
thought Carlo was the man to give Emma her happily-ever-after, except it wasn’t
possible that someone like Carlo could love someone like her. She was broken
inside and had been for some time while Carlo was everything good in this
world. A loving son and a supportive brother. A go-to-guy for her and so many
others. But a lover? Even though her insides ignited at the thought of making
love with the incredibly handsome Carlo, Emma knew it could only lead to misery
on way too many levels.
He was her
business partner of sorts and she valued how well they worked together. They
had even talked about forming an event planning business more than once so Emma
could have her own company and Carlo could expand his. Not to mention that he
was her best friend and she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life, but
she was certain that was what would happen if they tried to go from friends to
lovers and it didn’t work out.
fears weren’t keeping Connie from trying to drag Carlo into the center of the
dance floor for the next part of the wedding ritual. He protested at first and
as all eyes settled on him as he balked, embarrassment engulfed her. His
hesitation confirmed to Emma that changing the nature of their relationship was
not necessarily something he wanted to do either.
joined in to offer Connie assistance and Carlo finally relented, although
clearly reluctant. The handsome caterer stood with the other single men, and as
the groom prepared his garter toss, Emma closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer
beneath her breath.
“Dear Lord, please be good to me,” she said
and half-opened her eyes to watch.
God wasn’t listening since the garter flew across the air, and like a horseshoe
tossed at a ring, the circle of baby blue satin ribbon and beige lace landed on
Carlo’s index finger, earning hoots and shouts from all gathered at the perfect
and popped her eyes wide open as Carlo stood there, dangling the garter for all
to see. A stain of color marred his cheeks as he peeked at her with a chagrined
The heat of a
blush erupted all across her face and up to her ears. She half glanced at
Connie who had returned to stand by her and Emma said, “I will kill you for
this. When you least suspect it, it will happen.”
couldn’t stifle her chuckle, and when the groom’s brother and best man Jonathan
Pierce strolled to her friend’s side, Connie high-fived Jonathan for his
assistance with the plot. Connie murmured something to him that Emma couldn’t
quite hear as the band launched into a sexy riff to continue the wedding
tradition. Carlo sauntered over, garter dangling from his finger as someone
placed a chair for her to sit on in the middle of the makeshift dance floor.
“The quicker you get it over with, the
easier it will be,” Emma thought, hurried out, and unceremoniously plopped onto
the chair. It was like taking off a bandage with a quick rip. It cut the pain
much like she wanted to lessen the humiliation of Carlo being forced into this
music continued as Carlo kneeled before her and mouthed “Don’t worry.” In
deference to the fancy event being held at the Sinclair beachfront mansion, he
was dressed in a tuxedo. The black of the tux emphasized the deep brown of his
thick wavy hair. The electric white shirt was the perfect foil against olive skin
that still bore the remnants of a summer tan. He smiled at her, his teeth
toothpaste bright and perfect. The smile was brilliant and transformed the
chiseled features of his face. Made his chocolate brown eyes gleam with a mix
of amusement and awkwardness.
It was way
too easy to picture him as the groom. Her groom, but that was an impossible
wish. As his gaze locked with hers, she detected something different for a
moment. Something dangerous that she tried to convince herself wasn’t there.
There was no way that was there, she told herself.
pleaded with him not to make the situation worse. Ever the gentleman, he heeded
her plea and kept it clean as she looked up toward the inky night sky to avoid
watching him. His touch was deferential while he slipped the lacy fabric past
her shoe and ankle, but even the faintest whisper of his rough palm against her
skin had her trembling inside and heat racing across her body. He moved the
garter up a little higher to her calf and paused, forcing Emma to look at him
to find out the reason for his delay.
sexily and the fire at her core ignited into a five-alarm blaze. He was just so
damn handsome and it was impossible not to imagine doing more with him. He
inched the garter past her knee, his palm teasing her smooth skin, but stopped
there despite the entreaties of the single men to go ever higher. He wagged his
head, shook his finger in a no-way gesture, and tenderly draped Emma’s gown
back over her legs.
Emma met his
gaze once more, thankful, but this time it was impossible to miss that his look
was filled with yearning. With that emotion, she had maybe hoped for and
dreaded at the same time. And then Carlo did something totally unexpected and
decidedly risky. He wrapped an arm around her waist, urged her to her feet, and
slowly drew her close.
trembled and her heart pounded so loudly, she barely heard the music and cheers
from those who’d maybe had a little too much to drink during the festivities.
Carlo steadied her, keeping his arm around her waist as he cradled her jaw.
Slowly he leaned toward her and tilted her face up with the gentlest pressure.
have backed away. Could have stopped him, but truthfully she didn’t want him to
stop. She inched up on her tiptoes to meet his lips.
Never a Bride
At the Shore Book 3
by Caridad Pinero
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Emma never dreamed that the happily-ever-after would change her life. . .
But as her two best friends find love, Emma worries about what her future will bring. She has seen all too often what happens once husbands and children arrive. She puts on a brave face because she wants her buddies to be happy, but as a wedding planner, she has seen one too many marriages go south. Not to mention her parents’ bitter divorce which has soured her on the idea of marriage for herself. She can’t imagine ever finding a man who can bring her a forever kind of romance.
He’s been in love with her forever and can’t understand why she can’t see it. . .
Carlo da Costa knows why Emma avoids relationships and yet he can’t help but wonder how someone who puts such love and care into others’ dreams can’t allow herself to believe in the fairy tale. He sees the yearning on her face when she spends time with him and his big boisterous family and knows that deep inside, she wants the same thing. Carlo hopes that one day he can provide her with that because he’s sure Emma holds the key to his heart in her hands.
To stay in touch with the latest releases, contests and happenings with Caridad, sign up for her newsletter below.
NY Times and USA Today Bestseller Caridad Pineiro is a Jersey Girl who just wants to write, travel, and spend more time with family and friends. Caridad is the author of over 50 novels/novellas and has sold over 1 million books worldwide. Caridad loves romance novels, super heroes, TV and cooking. For more information on Caridad, please visit www.caridad.com or www.rebornvampirenovels.com. You can also find Caridad/Charity at the links below:
Winnie is content in her role as the
reigning matriarch of Smithville, but when a letter arrives from a long-lost
friend, the door to her past is reopened. Memories come flooding in, drawing
her back to 1968, her college days; a time filled with people and events she
hasn’t allowed herself to recall.
Tara knows her husband, Justin, is up to something. She may be crazy busy running her inn and trying to manage little Bella, but her gut tells her there’s more to Justin’s busy schedule than just work, and she’s determined to find out what it is.
Join in the fun as Smithville’s leading ladies unite in this charming, must-read novel filled with love; past, present, and future.
Kirsten grew up in the Western US and graduated from high school in 1984. She married soon thereafter and quickly built a family. With three young children and number four on the way, she returned to college in 1992. Her career as a draftsman included many settings ranging from a steel fabrication shops to prestigious engineering firms. Balancing family life with the workplace forced her to become the queen of multitasking. In 2001, bored with the cubicle life, she moved on to teach drafting in technical college, then to open her own consulting firm teaching 3D engineering software. Due to health problems, Kirsten retired in 2012 to travel with her husband for his job. She now works writing romance novels and enjoys spoiling her three grandchildren. Since 2017 Kirsten has lived and worked full time in a 40′ travel trailer with her husband and her little dog Bingo.
Adam Morrow is a self-made
millionaire. But one night with her could ruin everything…
I’ve worked my ass off for what I
have, and I’m damn proud of it. I started off with nothing and now I’m filthy
rich. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like revenge to help you get your ass in
gear. And that’s what I’m taking, with every exclusive resort I open—sweet,
sweet revenge…on her.
Nicole Westmore was my first love.
The poor little rich girl stole my heart with her sweet smile, hot body, and
irresistible innocence. The summer I worked for her father was the best time of
my life…until he drove me away. Even then, I thought Nicole would wait for me.
And so, I decided to get even,
opening rival hotels, slowly driving them out of business. The old man is gone
now, but Nicole is still running the company that’s about to collapse. All my
hard work will soon pay off.
And then I catch sight of her at a
wedding, and all those feelings come rushing back–for both of us. Still, she
doesn’t know what I’ve done—yet—and she seems more than willing. What will one
night in her bed hurt?
The sex is hotter than ever, and I can’t help wondering if I’ve made a mistake. Until I get up the next morning…and realize I’ve been kidnapped!
Adam sat at the table in
their cottage on the cove and watched Nicole prepare dinner. It was exactly the
sort of scene he’d fantasized about when he’d been young and in love. And for
once in a very long time, he faced an inner struggle.
Did he still hate her? No. Did
he still hate her father? Sure, but what was the point? The man was dead, and
Adam was having sex with his daughter again. That in itself would have the bastard
spinning in his grave.
Did he still want to sink
Westmore Hotels? Getting rid of the competition was a good business move,
revenge or not.
But the most important issue
involved his own emotions. If he was having honeymoon sex, would he be able to
walk away when he’d had enough? Hell, would he ever have enough of this woman?
Sometime soon, he’d have to return to the office. And she’d have to go back to
work. They’d leave here, and then what? Could he do without her, or was he
already in too deep?
He’d tried just about everything one body could do with sex, and it had all been fantastic for him and for all his partners. But none of it compared with being with this woman, even in the most ordinary of ways. Emotion—feelings—had to account for the difference. You had honeymoon sex with someone you loved. Grant hadn’t said that, but he’d implied it. Was he falling in love with Nicole all over again? Good God in heaven.
She glanced over
her shoulder at him. “You look pensive.”
“I was only
wondering if you’ve become domesticated,” he lied.
She laughed. “Not
likely. I love to cook, but I’m happy to have someone else clean up.”
“There are some
good things about being spoiled and rich.” She picked up a colander full of
greens and a bowl and approached the table.
“Here,” she said
as she put both in front of him. “How good are you at tearing up lettuce for a
“I promise you, I
can tear up anything you want.”
again. She seemed to do it easily, quite in contrast with the tense woman who’d
confronted him at Grant’s sister’s wedding. They were getting along now…more or
less. As long as she didn’t find out about Vivian.
She went back to
work near the sink, shelling shrimp for a Cajun dish. An array of spices and
fresh herbs stood all around her cutting board. This promised to be quite a
He had to end the
honeymoon before he lost control of his emotions completely. They were
competitors, and he might still end up taking over Westmore Hotels. If he did,
she’d hate him, and they’d end up back at square one. No. He had to get back to
New York and get some distance from her so he could clear his head and figure
out where to go from here.
But first, he had
a little treat in store for her, if she liked that kind of thing. He’d made a
detour to the resort gift shop and had liberated a few silk scarves. Long ones.
Long enough to tie wrists and ankles to the posts at the corners of their bed.
She was wearing
shorts that snuggled against her butt in a particularly tempting way. They
weren’t super tight, allowing movement, but they still showed off her curves. He’d
cupped her buttocks with his palms as he drove himself into her, so the mere
act of staring at her aroused him. She might not go for the silk, but he’d
definitely have sex with her. One last indulgence before he got her to agree
the time had come to return to the real world.
“Why don’t you
take a break and come over here?” he said.
She turned and
cocked her head, staring at the lettuce she’d put in front of him. “You haven’t
“I don’t feel
like cooking right now.”
“It can wait for
a while,” he said.
She put down her
knife, turned, and rested her backside against the counter. “What on earth
could you possibly have in mind?”
He gave her a
grin—that came more easily now, too—and he turned in his chair and patted his
knee. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”
toward him. “You’re a sex fiend, you know?”
“I’ve been called
She sat on his
knee and draped her arms around his shoulders. Being this close to her, he could
get lost in the emerald gleam of her eyes. They definitely held a wicked
“I had a really
nasty thought as I watched you on the elliptical today,” he said.
“You know I can’t
take my eyes off you,” he said.
“That’s nice.” She
pressed her lips against his, just long enough to give him a taste of her. “Really
With her butt on
his thigh, her legs sat near his crotch. Her kisses and the scent of her perfume
had already warmed his libido, and his sex thickened and hardened in
anticipation of having her yet again. If she’d been a drug, he would have been
addicted long before now. This was exactly why he needed some distance. But not
wicked thought,” he said.
She moved her
mouth to his ear and blew into it. “Do tell.”
He shuddered as a
bolt of lightning slashed through him. Holy crap, she could turn him on. “A
little exotic play, maybe. But only if it excites you.”
“Trust. I’m going
to prove to you that I trust you completely.” For now, they’d leave aside the
question of whether she could trust him.
She leaned back
and looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “You’re not going to fall
backward and trust me to catch you, are you?”
that innocent,” he said. “I’m going to let you tie me up.”
She hooted. “You’re
“Only if you want
to. It’s your call.”
She stared into
his eyes. “You’re serious.”
“There’s a bag
from the hotel gift shop in the bedroom. It has enough silk scarves to tie me
pretty securely to the bed.”
“I did see that
bag.” She bit her lip. “Silk scarves, huh?”
hurt me, of course,” he said.
“But I could tie
you up, and…”
“Do whatever you
want to me.” The more he thought about this plan, the hotter he got. Imagine,
her crawling all over him. Getting naked but not allowing him to touch her. He
couldn’t do anything for his own pleasure unless she allowed it. If she toyed
with him for a good, long while and then finally allowed him to climax, the
orgasm would tear him apart. What a way to go.
Alice Gaines lives in the San Francisco Bay Area in a fixer-upper house she never fixed up. Aside from writing and reading hot, hot romance, she loves cooking, knitting and crocheting, and her church. She has a pet corn snake named Casper and she’s insanely passionate about the funky soul band, Tower of Power.
I am deeply honored when someone comes into my
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Thank you for the honor of you.
My fictional stories are written from the
inside view of a character’s interior heart – that beautiful, vulnerable,
intimate space – feelings, desires, needs, dreams that interweave in one
another as heart’s wave, heart’s song, heart’s breath.
The Best Book I’ve Read This Year! I just finished it and I loved it! It has more twists and turns
than a roller coaster. This book would
make an amazing movie, but the book will always be better. I can’t
wait to see what she writes next! – Rena, five-star review on Amazon.
From two-time Book of the Year finalist and
Thriller of the Year Award winner Kathleen O’Donnell comes a gripping psychological
thriller filled with quirky, unexpected twists.
A girl in
Delilah Diamond had it all, the popular cooking
show, a dream house, and a great romance with her producer, until the
producer’s wife gets wind of it all. Delilah loses her show, her job, and her
house. She’s forced to go back to her hometown where everyone has skeletons in
their closet—or worse.
A home not
like any other
She arrives just in time for the unfortunate death
of her high school crush, but senses something’s wrong with the story of his
demise. Before she realizes it, she’s knee-deep in a past that almost crushed
her years before, and could very well crush her now, for good.
A mother who
keeps sordid secrets
Local law enforcement is a homegrown drunk, and
useless, so someone higher up the food chain sends a big city detective who
starts sniffing around her classmate’s suspicious death and her mother’s past.
Delilah’s protective hackles are raised. She knows her mother has shameful
secrets, but the more she learns, the more she realizes she doesn’t know the
that comes together, even in crime
In small towns, you protect your family and your
neighbors come what may, but will Delilah be able to protect her mother without
exposing her own sins? The ones she worked so hard to cover up? Will she be
able to deter the detective away from the truth?
You can’t go
home again. Or can you? Should you? How safe is home when you know where the
bodies are buried?
Home is ultimately a story about
love, family, loyalty and circling the wagons no matter what terrible crime’s
been committed. It’s quirky, heartfelt, and reminiscent of Dolores Claiborne
and the works of Kate Atkinson, Jane Hamilton, and Janet Evanovich.
is a wife, mom, grandmother and a recovering blogger. She currently lives in
Nevada with her husband. She is a two time Book of the Year finalist for her
debut novel The Last Day for Rob Rhino. You can find short stories and blog
posts on her website.
When an expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the
Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the Devil
Demonologist, Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He’s
fought it and sent it back to hell. It’s what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts
and demons are just great television and good for ratings. When faced with the
truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept
into dire straits moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely
pair, throwing their hearts into chaos with a love neither expected nor wanted.
When the Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face the ancient evil and defeat it or lose everything?
and Claire watched Grant, and the doctor attempt to engage Kelsey. The teenage
girl sat still, her gaze fixed on Claire.
come here,” Luke said motioning for Claire to join him on the other side of the
complied. Luke watched the girls’ eyes track Claire’s movement like a hunter
tracking its prey.
Claire gasped, and Luke focused.
usually clear eyes were fogged. He took her hand and discovered she was cold to
the touch, as cold as when he’d pulled her out of the well.
focus on me,” Luke said, squeezing her hand and knocking on the window between
the rooms. A tingling sensation pulsed through Luke’s body. Consciously pushing
the energy to Claire, he drank in the experience while taking deep breaths.
Claire’s eyes cleared, and her hand warmed. “Better?”
nodded. At the same moment, the door opened. Grant entered the small room, his
eyes immediately focusing on their joined hands. “Is everything okay?”
I just got a little light-headed,” Claire said, releasing Luke’s hand.
shot a look at Grant. “How did it go in there?”
opened her eyes, and we thought we were getting somewhere, but then we lost it.
Not sure what happened.”
might know,” Luke said.
shot him a deadly look.
explained what happened in the observation room.
only one way to know for sure,” Grant said, looking at Claire.
need to test the theory,” Luke replied.
putting the stimulus back in the equation. First in the observation room, and
then in the room with Kelsey,” Grant said.
not serious?” Claire replied, turning away from the men.
if Kelsey is attracted to you for some reason, we have to investigate and see
where it leads,” Grant replied.
ran her hands through her hair. She stood silent for a moment before turning
and meeting Luke’s eyes. She seemed to be searching for something. An
acknowledgment or reassurance? He couldn’t give anything to her and looked
there’s something you need to know,” Grant said.
stomach dropped. Listening to Grant explain to Claire what had happened at the
hospital when they found her in Kelsey’s room made him physically ill. He kept
his focus elsewhere, not wanting to watch Claire’s reaction to the news. The
incident was his fault. He should be able to protect her.
Claire said. “Yeah, okay, let’s see what happens.”
turned, seeing the determination in her eyes.
returned to Kelsey’s room and quietly informed the doctor Luke would be
entering the room next, then stepped into the hallway and motioned to Luke. The
two men switched places.
stepped in, noting how cold the room felt compared to the hallway. “Hello,
Kelsey, my name is Luke Melloy. I want to speak with you about Crestwater
Church.” The girl lay motionless. “Kelsey, can you hear me? We’re here to help
you, but you have to tell us what happened. We went to Crestwater. I gotta tell
you, Kelsey, the church is a pretty creepy place. I would understand if you’re
hesitant about sharing your experiences.” Luke took her hand. “Kelsey, you’re
safe here in the hospital. Surrounded by people who are here to help you
through this trauma.”
door opened. Grant walked into the room, followed by Claire. Luke shook his
doctor audibly sighed, “I want to thank you for trying. Your help is sincerely
is our pleasure,” Luke replied, watching Claire and Grant approach the
lay quietly, the shadows of her face dark and haunting despite the harsh
hospital lights. Luke watched her closely while alternating his focus on
looked to Grant and then Claire. Claire exhaled a deep breath, the warmth of
her breath mixing with a sudden iciness in the air. He switched his focus to
Kelsey, whose eyes opened. The skin of her expression tightened against the
bones of her face. Her eyes stared out with a menacing black glare. The room
filled with the stench of death and sulfur.
Luke said. A guttural, yelping laugh of malevolent spite and rage emanated from
the thin girl’s physical form. “Who are we speaking with, if not Kelsey?”
who is not him or her. He who will make the dripping climax of blood at your
feet,” the Demon within Kelsey replied, licking its lips while looking at
unearthly scream filled the room. Claire. Her face ashen and eyes wide in
terror, she stumbled back. Grant moved to catch her, and Luke re-focused.
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I appeal to your holy name, humbly begging
your kindness, that you may graciously grant me help against this unclean
spirit now tormenting this creature of yours, through Christ our Lord.”
her, Luke. Save her as you did Daniel!” the Demon cried. The room shook, the
armor myself today with the power of the Most Holy Trinity, in the oneness of
God, Creator of the universe. I armor myself today with the baptism of Christ,
His crucifixion and resurrection, His ascension and glorious second coming.”
is no hope for her light! It is already marked with the seed of Belial!”
armor myself today with God’s guidance to direct me, God’s might to sustain me,
God’s wisdom to instruct me, God’s word to give me speech, God’s shield to
protect me, God’s army to defend me, against the snares of demons, against the
lure of vices, against all who plot me harm.”
quinquaginta animas sedem formabis radicibus!” the Demon spat out with a low
quickly as the episode began, it ended. Luke checked the room. Claire stood
shielded within Grant’s protective arms, while the doctor huddled in the corner
of the room.
Romine has always wanted to be one of the good guys. From playing Charlie’s
Angels in the backyard of her Macungie, PA home as a child to the pages of her
unending projects, Amy has always dreamed of adventure and romance. Her need to
make the characters truly deserve their happiness takes us on many a twisted
journey. From serial killers to demons, Amy holds nothing back in the name of
true enduring love.
A mother of three, Amy has spent the past sixteen years working in Operations
for Ricoh America’s Corporation. She is an avid movie fan and enjoys books,
television, theater, her dog Pip and all things romance.
After her latest dating disaster, legal clerk Kerry Roberts decides to give up on finding the man of her dreams. In jest, her eldest son suggests she find a sugar daddy. Curious about the type of man willing to pay for companionship, she signs on to a web site dedicated to helping women connect with men-of-means.
Burned by a woman only after his money, corporate attorney Grayson Nichols doesn’t understand why several of his clients enjoy the price of paying for companionship. To check out the hype of a recommended website, he creates a profile, not imagining he’d come across a woman not fitting the usual profile, and yet expressing her intent to have a man take care of her. Grayson is determined to teach her a lesson-money can’t buy happiness.
After their first meeting, Grayson finds himself intrigued by and attracted to Kerry. He switches tactic and proposes an unusual arrangement. Will their unique approach to a relationship work, or will they let old wounds prevent them from finding what money can’t buy?
When money can’t buy happiness, love will always sweeten the deal.
bought men from a prison to fulfill their every need. What could possibly go
wrong with such a simple little purchase?
WARDS OF THE WOMEN introduces three desperate girlfriends who, on the surface, appear to have it all, but underneath are in the midst of various crises. Mysterious deaths, extortion, straying husbands and illegitimate children have suddenly overtaken the lives of Violet Christianson, Shayne Wentworth, and Fifi Gentry. Eventually, when Violet becomes fed up with all of their circumstances, she does what any sensible woman would do—blackmails the state prison warden into letting each of them buy an inmate from the jail for their own personal fulfillment. But never in their wildest dreams did they imagine all the chaos that would ensue from a simple little purchase…
Violet Christianson was a woman who knew what her name meant to most. Perfection. Everyone either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.
herself to be the most beautiful woman on her block, and never missed an opportunity
to ponder her stunning image. At five-eight, she kept her lean, size two figure
draped in outrageously expensive designer clothing at all times. Her dazzling,
widespread hazel eyes were framed with long, lush lashes. Her retroussé nose
had finally been perfected after several invasive surgeries. Her soft, plump
lips accentuated high cheekbones when they puckered. Her raven hair swung so
low that she could practically sit on it.
Elliot, was rich. The richest man on the block, to be exact. Elliot worked as a
real estate developer and closed more big-money deals than a little bit. As a
result, he allowed her to spend his money on whatever she wanted, and whenever
she wanted. As he should have, considering how unsightly he was. Elliot’s
pockmarked skin, hair plugs, bifocaled eyes, rat-like teeth, pot belly, and
squat body were enough to send most into hysterics the moment they laid eyes on
him. But Elliot was wise enough to hide his ghastly appearance behind his vast
fortune. So by the time people noticed his looks, they’d already been so
blinded by his Benjamins that his ugliness became a blur. Which is
exactly how he said he wanted it.
Violet’s house was big.
The biggest house on her suburban block, to be exact. It boasted a huge great
room, six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, an Olympic-size pool, and even a room
designated just for gift wrapping. The house had been designed by Jacques Lolique,
interior decorator to the stars, which meant that her contemporary décor was
nothing short of flawless—as was the house’s appearance, which was constantly
being serviced by a small army of workers.
To top it all off,
Violet was smart. Smart enough to have earned a doctorate in psychiatry. But
rather than open a high-end practice and service the rich and famous, she’d
gone with her heart and decided to work with inmates at the local state prison.
Violet Christianson. Beautiful, lucky, and charitable. All the reasons why most people either wanted her, wanted to be her, or simply wanted her to go away.
Denise N. Wheatley is a
lover of romance, happy endings and the art of storytelling. She’s best known
for her chick lit novel I WISH I NEVER MET YOU, which was published by Simon
& Schuster in 2004. She has since traditionally published several novels
and novellas, including contemporary, suspense and paranormal romance. She
strives to creative characters who are strong, colorful and relatable, and tell
entertaining stories that embody matters of the heart.
Denise received a B.A. in English from the University of Illinois at Chicago, the city where she was born and raised. She’s written screenplays and ghostwritten for some of your faves, and when she’s not sitting behind a computer, you can find her in a movie theater, on a tennis court, watching true crime television or chatting on social media.