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These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
Author: Ilsa Madden-Mills
Publication Date: November 13th, 2017
From Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills comes a new standalone romance about a flawed hero and the woman he can’t forget.
“She crossed my path and changed my whole direction.”
He calls himself Spider.
I just knew him as the sinfully gorgeous guy with eyes of fire that fate sat next to me on the airplane.
I didn’t know who he really was…British rock star…my stepbrother.
He kissed me because he thought we’d never see each other again. We would.
Everyone warned me about him.
They told me he was ruthless and cold and screwed up.
They said he’d leave me with a hole in my heart.
Maybe I should have listened.
Maybe I should have built up a fortress to keep him out.
But I crumbled instead.
They say an unbreakable thread connects those who are destined to meet. If that’s true, then the moment he sat next to me, we were bound together forever.
He just had to figure it out before it’s too late…
How can one human man be so hot?
Spider sits on my toilet, shirtless, while I dab at his swollen eye. I’m doing my best to keep my eyes averted from the ink on his body, the way his tattoos swirl underneath his jeans, the way his chest is carved from stone.
Of course, I’m the stupid person who suggested he remove his shirt so I could see if he has any bruising on his chest. A cracked or broken rib can cause a lot of pain, and I want to be thorough, that’s all—I swear to baby Jesus.
He grinned at my request and whipped it off—which is the reason I’m now a mess.
There’s hardly any room to breathe with him in my small bathroom.
I wipe at the spot of blood on his cheek as he watches me stoically, never taking his eyes off me, tracking my every movement.
“This will look worse tomorrow,” I murmur, just to ease the tension. I stand between his spread legs, acutely aware of his fresh scent, his pure magnetism. My hands shake and I have to focus to push an image of me straddling him, both of us naked, out of my head. I want to run my tongue over the tattoo on his neck. I want to bite him like an animal while he—
Good grief, Rose, stop the fantasy!
“You’d make a good nurse,” he says softly, his long black lashes fluttering softly against his chiseled cheekbones.
“Doctor of Psychology,” I correct him.
“Yes.” Although right now I’m dreaming of him…
“I know that feeling. That’s how music is to me.” His golden-brown eyes watch me as I reach over to the medicine cabinet for more antiseptic and antibacterial cream, my chest perilously close to his face. I swear my nipples are reaching for him.
I nod, pretending like I’m not all discombobulated. “My granny mainly. She loved to read people—literally. She ran a little palm-reading business out of her home before she died. All the old ladies of the neighborhood would come to see her. She’d make them coffee and they’d just…talk. She’d tell them what they needed to hear while I sat on the floor next to her and listened. There wasn’t any magic involved of course.” I laugh. “But…she was incredibly intuitive. She just got people. If someone twitched or looked left or right while they were talking, she’d have a reason for it and she’d tell me all about it after they left.”
“I think I would have loved your granny.” He curls an arm around me, tugging me close until my chest is a hair’s breadth away from his face. I recall our epic kiss on the plane. I feel the pressure of his taut thighs and my breath quickens as desire unfurls inside me.
A hum warms my blood. I want him—desperately.
And it’s entirely foolish.
He’s my stepbrother.
He doesn’t call girls back.
“Why does it seem like I’ve known you forever?” I ask, feeling myself gravitating closer.
He thinks about it, pushing a piece of hair out of my eyes. Cupping my nape, he pulls me in tighter until our noses meet. The back of his hand caresses my cheek and the heat from his touch burns, yet there’s a tautness in the roped muscles of his arms, as if he’s holding himself in check.
“Because I am you,” he says softly. “We’re so much alike, it’s staggering.” He pauses and stares deep into my eyes.
I nod. I can’t think. He’s so close to me, his eyes burning into mine.
He closes his eyes and exhales. “I want you, Rose. You’re intoxicating.”
I suck in a sharp breath, our lips inches apart.
Is he going to kiss me? I want him to.
His eyes open after the silence has gone on too long, a smirk forming around his mouth. “You scared of me, Rose?”
“I’m scared you’ll rip my heart out.”
He stares at the LOST tattoo on his hand. “I probably will.”
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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’s addicted to dystopian books and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), and tattoos.
She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.
When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and paints old furniture.
“I’d like a try.” It was the stranger with the green eyes.
Of course the night would ramp up right when I announced I was leaving. I looked up at him expectantly, but he didn’t approach. I realized he was waiting for my invitation. He was definitely new. Everyone else knew Miss T was one of the most ready and willing participants in the room—to the point where some tried to take advantage of it. I never needed to issue invitations, but I often needed to reinforce boundaries.
“What are you waiting for, then?” I sat up straighter, ignoring Chuck’s grunt of complaint.
The stranger came forward with slow, swaggering steps. When he reached me, he loosened his bowtie a little before lowering himself to one knee at my side. He placed his arm next to mine on the chair, his fingers barely grazing my skin. Goosebumps sprouted up my forearm all the way to my neck, and he hadn’t even bent in to whisper yet.
And then he did. His breath skated over the shell of my ear, and my heart tripped unexpectedly in my chest.
How long had it been since that had happened from just the feel of someone breathing against me?
“I’m going to kiss you one way or another tonight,” he said, low and with such surety a shiver ran down my spine. “It’s your decision whether it’s now or later.”
So. Not just a voyeur then.
He sat back to study my features. My jaw was slack, and I scanned his expression, searching for a hidden motivation. My body tingled from head to toe. I was used to men—strangers—wanting me. I was used to them approaching me. I was used to them telling me how much they desired me.
Why was this man so different?
Maybe it was because those other men always looked everywhere in the room. When their eyes landed on me, I knew I was just one of many options.
He’d looked around the room. I’d watched him throughout the night. But nothing had interested him. I could tell by the way he was still wearing his jacket, by the way his eyes were only now beginning to dilate as they stared into mine.
He’d studied the room and decided nothing here had interested him but me.
That was definitely not the kink that usually got me off. That was Cinderella-story kind of kink. The fairytale kink with a happy ending was traditional, but a kink all the same—being chased. Being placed on a gilded pedestal. I never wanted to be somebody’s Only One in the Room. I liked having my own space. I liked being able to disappear when I wanted. I liked not having chains or boundaries. I was turning thirty-five soon. I wasn’t a starry-eyed teenager anymore. I knew what I wanted from life and love and relationships and sex. And it wasn’t a pedestal.
When an author you love brings two of her many worlds together, you know you’ve got a winner on your hands. Fans of the both the Fixed and the Dirty Filthy worlds created by author Laurelin Paige will find just what they’re looking for in DIRTY FILTHY FIX, Laurelin’ latest entry in the 1001 Dark Nights series.
Trish Bisceglia, personal assistant to one Hudson Pierce, leads a double life of sorts. All business and straitlaced by day, wild, free, and anything but vanilla by night, she strives to keep her professional and private life completely separate. Which has worked well for her, until Nate. Nathaniel Sinclair of Reach, Inc. (yes, THAT Reach, Inc…) is more than meets the eye. A chance meeting leads Trish and Nate into an explosive, chemistry-filled liaison that soon turns into more than either one of them expected. (P.S. If you’re really really careful, and you don’t blink, you’ll see this couple for just a moment in DIRTY FILTHY RICH LOVE. Who knew one little snippet could pave the way for such a steamy duo?!)
DIRTY FILTHY FIX is a sexy and welcome little addition to Laurelin’s body of work, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Besides the obvious, the back and forth between Nate and Trish is what kept me turning pages. Laurelin can write a resolution for any dang situation, and the way that she brought everything together here was perfect for these characters. 4.5 stars for DFF, which is a must-read for Laurelin fans, especially if you’ve read her other books (although it can be read as a standalone just as well).
DIRTY FILTHY FIX Trailer:
About Laurelin Paige:
USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author Laurelin Paige is a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She is represented by Rebecca Friedman.
Connor Prescott doesn’t do one night stands (yes, ladies, he’s an anomaly) so when he meets a beautiful woman during a snowed in night at the airport who wants to forget her heartache, he makes an exception. Their night together is incendiary, and by morning Connor wants more . . . except his sexy stranger is gone. He’s pretty sure he’ll never see her again, until three and a half years later she finds him, and changes his entire world with three little words . . . You’re a daddy.
Connor scrolled through the list of movies on pay-per-view for the tenth time, not sure what Katie might be in the mood for. He’d raided the mini bar as promised, and all the junk food loot was on the coffee table awaiting their impromptu slumber party. He was just waiting, albeit impatiently, to find out if Katie was going to join him or not. After her emotionally draining day, he wasn’t sure she was going to be up to hanging out, and as much as he’d understand that decision, the thought mostly disappointed him.
When he heard the door to her bedroom open, a flood of relief coursed through him. “So, what are you in the mood for?” he asked, anxious for her to join him and hoping that she sat on the same sofa as he did instead of the single chair opposite the couch—Jesus, what was he, fourteen? “We’ve got our choice between a romantic comedy, action adventure, or a horror flick.”
“None of those,” she said, her voice soft and husky as she approached from his peripheral vision. “The only thing I’m in the mood for is . . . you.”
Certain that he’d heard Katie wrong, he turned his head to glance at her. His jaw dropped open in shock as he stared at the stunning, erotic vision standing a few feet away from him, dressed in a sinful red ensemble that screamed fuck me, please. Unsure as to what was going on—was he being cruelly punked right now?—his entire body went rigid, including his dick, as he desperately tried to clear the lust that was quickly fogging his brain.
He managed to close his mouth, but that only made his jaw clench achingly tight as he fought off the urge to do something stupid, like push her down to the couch and give free rein to the attraction they’d both been skirting. Jesus, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her and the see-through lingerie that exposed more than it covered, teasing him mercilessly. The sheer underwire cups pushed her generous breasts up like an offering, barely containing all that mouthwatering fullness, and her tight, rosy nipples pushed against the thin, lacy fabric. The skirt of the short gown draped over her midsection like a veil, sheer enough for him to see the indentation of her waist and flare of her hips, and a pair of tiny red matching panties he wanted to tear off of her with his teeth.
He swore beneath his breath, and when she made a soft, uncertain noise in the back of her throat, he jerked his gaze back up to hers. He caught a quick glimpse of apprehension shimmering in those big brown eyes, which contradicted the bold, brazen woman currently standing in front of him.
“Maybe this was a really stupid idea,” she said in a voice that cracked with a wealth of doubts, right before she turned back around and rushed toward her bedroom in a blur of red material that swirled around her waist and thighs.
Realizing that she believed his hesitation was because he didn’t want her, Connor jumped to his feet and reached Katie before she made it halfway across the living room. He caught her around the waist with a strong arm and hauled her up against his body, her back to his front—and quickly realized what a huge mistake that was.
She valiantly struggled to break free of his hold, the curve of her delectable ass shifting and wriggling against the thick length of his cock already straining the zipper of his jeans. He gritted his teeth at the onslaught of lust racing through his blood, threatening to eradicate his self-control and any rational decisions he needed to make. And the situation definitely called for him to remain level-headed so he could think with his brain and not his unruly dick.
She tried to push away his arm one last time, but when it didn’t budge, she made a frustrated sound. “Just let me go, Connor,” she said, her voice defeated and so damn vulnerable. “Please.”
He wasn’t releasing her until he knew she was okay. “Katie—”
“Don’t make this any worse than it already is,” she said, cutting him off, her entire body still unyielding against his. “I must have misread your interest, and I don’t think I can handle getting rejected twice in one day.”
Aww, fuck. The very last thing he felt for her was disinterest, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her or the situation, either. He released her and turned Katie so that she was facing him, hating the wariness in her gaze. She looked like she was going to bolt again, and he wasn’t about to let that happen until they got a few things straight. With his hands gripping her hips so she couldn’t go anywhere, at least not easily, he backed her up a few steps, until she was trapped between him and the wall.
The impulse to run his hands up the indentation of her waist to the breasts nearly spilling out of her flimsy top was so strong and so distracting he had to place his palms safely on the wall on either side of her shoulders. She tipped her head back to look up at him, and he nearly smiled when he saw the earlier doubts that had been clouding her gaze were now replaced with a stubborn attitude that turned him on way too much.
“First of all, you didn’t misread anything,” he told her. “You surprised the fuck out of me, because I didn’t expect you to come out of your room looking like a goddamn sex kitten. And secondly, I’m not rejecting you personally.”
Her chin lifted obstinately. “Just what I’m offering?”
The corner of his mouth quirked at the impudent tone of her voice, and before he could think better of it, he touched one of the soft, blonde strands of hair that fell to the swell of her breasts. He rubbed the silky texture between his fingers, immediately imagining how it would feel to have his entire hand wrapped around the length. Tugging. Pulling. Her gasping. Moaning. Begging.
The heady images in his head fueled his growing hunger for her. “What, exactly, are you offering, Valentine?” he murmured, knowing he was torturing himself but beyond caring any longer.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He watched as her tongue dampened her bottom lip, spurring more dirty thoughts to fill his head. “Tell me,” he said, the words a gentle demand. “Just so it’s clear for both of us.”
She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering up the nerve, then spoke. “Remember that fantasy I told you about earlier? The sex-with-a-stranger-in-a-hotel-room fantasy?”
How could he forget something like that? “Yes.”
She exhaled a breath. “That’s all I want. No last names. No personal information. Just a night of hot, mindless sex.”
Yeah, that sounded damn good, except he was already coming to want so much more than that with her.
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Meet Carly Phillips:
Carly Phillips is the N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels, including the Indie published, Dare to Love Series. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers.
Connect with Carly Phillips:
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Meet Erika Wilde:
Erika Wilde (aka Janelle Denison) is the USA Today bestselling author of over 50 contemporary romances for multiple print publishers.
Connect with Erika Wilde:
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A COLD DARK PROMISE takes place during the week leading up to the wedding of former assassin Alex Parker to FBI Agent Mallory Rooney, who meet and fall in love in the novel, A COLD DARK PLACE.
In the midst of wedding preparations, a shadowy figure from Alex Parker’s past reappears and threatens the joy he’s found with Mallory Rooney.
Four years ago, Jane Sanders’s rich and powerful ex-husband kidnapped their young daughter and Jane hasn’t seen her since. Now she finally has a lead on her location and she knows just the man to help her get her daughter back. Trouble is, he’s an assassin. And he terrifies her.
Despite his upcoming nuptials, Alex agrees to help, but it doesn’t take long for the routine operation to turn complicated—and deadly. Can the former CIA operative make it home in time to marry the woman he loves, or will his dark past destroy all hope for their future?
Get your hands on A COLD DARK PROMISE now:
Their breathing quieted. Heartbeats slowed and melded.
The dying sun cast long shadows through their bedroom window.
“You have to help her,” Mallory said quietly.
His arm curled over her hip, and he pulled her closer.
“I can take another week off work,” she said.
“No way are you getting involved in this.”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You can’t stop me.”
He kissed her fingers and smiled sadly. “I know I can’t stop you, but if you insist on coming with me, then I won’t go.”
His silver gaze wasn’t angry or demanding. It was calm. Implacable. Mallory blew out a big breath of frustration. It was the first time Alex had refused to let her be involved in something. She knew he hid things from her occasionally. But the two of them had made a promise to one another the day investigators had uncovered her sister’s body.
No more lies.
And that was why he was telling her this now, she realized.
Her fingers gripped his, hugging him to her. “I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
She swallowed. “I know you can, but I don’t want you to have to take care of yourself. I want to look after you. I want to be the one watching your back.”
He ran a finger down her spine and followed it with his lips.
She closed her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. I feel it every time you go to work without me.”
But he let her go anyway, because she needed the space to do her job, and he respected that. He respected her.
She rolled onto her back. She didn’t want Alex to go on this job without her, but she knew she wasn’t the only one who needed space to work, even when that work wasn’t clearly defined. She touched his face.
“I can’t go.” Alex insisted, but there was no conviction behind his words. “We have a wedding to prepare for and a dog to look after.”
Rex was in the living room on the couch. He’d fetch a ball from dawn until dusk, but he was generally a couch potato which suited them both perfectly right now. Mallory intended to get a puppy or two after the wedding. She’d convince Alex by reminding him dogs were good security.
“All you have to do for the wedding is turn up— and write those place name cards. The wedding planner,” who Alex had nicknamed the General for good reason, “is doing virtually everything else including arranging transportation for all the guests who are flying in. I can make any last-minute adjustments and double-check on the flowers and still go to work every day next week. Hiring that woman is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
He laid his ear against her belly. “Not the best idea, but pretty inspired.”
She sank her hands into his hair. “When will you be back?”
“I imagine Wednesday at the latest.” He placed one large palm on her stomach and held her gaze. “I won’t take any unnecessary risks, and I won’t do anything stupid. If the child is there I will either figure out a way for the legat to get involved.” The legat was the FBI’s official presence in a foreign country. “Or I’ll sneak them away when no one is looking and bring her, and Jane, back to the States.” Alex kissed her stomach again. She knew he was impatient to meet the newest member of their family. “I’m not sure the daughter— Taylor— will remember her mother after four years.”
Mallory’s heart clenched, and her hand went to where their baby was kicking her low ribs. Alex linked their fingers. She already felt overprotective. The idea of someone stealing her baby… She swallowed hard. This was important. Jane Sanders had always seemed a little aloof, and no wonder. Her child had been stolen and the fact it was by the father made it no less heartbreaking for the mother.
Mallory touched Alex’s lips. “Don’t be late for the wedding. Promise?”
Silver eyes met hers. “I promise.”
Did you know the first book in the Cold Justice series is available for free? Get your hands on A COLD DARK PLACE!
New York Times and USA Today international bestselling author, Toni Anderson, writes dark, gritty Romantic Suspense novels that have hit #1 in Barnes & Noble’s Nook store, the Top 10 in Amazon and Kobo stores, and the Top 50 in iBooks. Her novels have won many awards. A former Marine Biologist from Britain, she inexplicably ended up in the geographical center of North America, about as far from the ocean as it is possible to get. She now lives in the Canadian prairies with her Irish husband and two children and spends most of her time complaining about the weather.
Toni has no explanation for her oft-times dark imagination, and only hopes the romance makes up for it. She’s addicted to reading, dogs, tea, and chocolate.
If you want to know when Toni’s next book will be out, visit her website (http://www.toniandersonauthor.com) and sign up for her newsletter. If you want to read other fascinating stories about life in a city that, during winter, is sometimes colder than Mars, friend her on Facebook: (https://www.facebook.com/toniannanderson).
Six foot three. Dynamic green eyes. Utterly irresistible.
Ethan Everest stole my breath the first time I saw him. He romanced me with skill, dazzled me with his charisma, and proceeded to steal my heart right after.
I might have fallen for his easy going smile the first time we met, but I fell for him the second time.
Honey-colored hair. Cherry-kissed lips. Captivatingly gorgeous.
Singer Davis was the first, and only, woman to ever intimidate me. She spoke to my heart with her wit, seduced me with her eyes, and became the only thing that made sense in a world that made none.
I let her slip through my fingers once. I won’t make that mistake twice.
Secrets broke us apart. Can a second chance bring us back together?
ABOUT S.L. SCOTT
Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She’s obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she’s a pro.
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