Excerpt Reveal: Black Tie Optional by Ann Marie Walker

The Proposal meets Two Weeks
Notice
 in Ann Marie Walker’s 

new standalone romantic comedy, Black
Tie Optional!

 

BLACK TIE OPTIONAL
Wild Wedding #1
Ann Marie Walker
Releasing May 30, 2017
St. Martin’s Press

 

The
Proposal 
meets Two
Weeks Notice
 in Ann Marie Walker’s new standalone romantic
comedy, Black Tie Optional, which New York Times bestselling
author Jennifer Probst calls, “a fun, sexy romp that will keep every
reader entertained!”

Everything about Coleman Grant III oozes power and sex. And not the perfunctory
kind either, but the sheet clawing, heart stopping, gasping for air after
you’ve screamed so loud you can’t breathe kind. From his dark wavy hair that
stands in an artfully rumpled mess, to the blue eyes that sear your skin, to
his full, sensual lips – on the surface he’s pure perfection.

 
Too bad
he’s an asshole. An arrogant, uptight corporate raider hell bent on destroying
the environment one species at a time.
 
Everything
about Olivia Ramsey screams hippie humanitarian. From her blond hair tied in a
sloppy bun, to her faded jeans with the Bonnaroo patch sewn on the thigh, to
her combat boots still splattered with mud from the previous day’s site visit.
So it makes
perfect sense that they would get married. In Vegas. Stone-cold sober.Cole
needs a wife. Olivia needs to save an endangered species. But what starts as a
marriage of convenience soon turns into a battle of wills and sexual tension.
Love is a game, and Olivia and Cole are ready to win.
 
Chapter One
 
Just like
clockwork, Olivia thought. She watched the gas-guzzling SUV roll to a stop
alongside the curb, its hazard lights blinking as if some sort of justification
for bringing a full lane of Chicago’s morning rush hour to a grinding halt.
Every day the sleek black car stopped in exactly the same location so the
almighty Coleman Grant III could get the same extra hot, double shot Americano
from the same big-chain coffee shop, bypassing the smaller, neighborhood
establishments trying to stay afloat as corporate America runs them into the
ground.
            A mountain of a man in mirrored
aviator shades jumped out of the front seat to open the rear door, giving
Olivia a clear view of the luxury vehicle’s interior. Two leather captain’s
chairs with fold down keyboards and armrest tablet holders sat facing several
television monitors mounted above what appeared to be a full-service bar.  Forget running a business, it looked as
though Coleman Grant ran NASA from his back seat. Honestly, what could possibly
be so important that it couldn’t keep until he got to the office? The commute
from his Gold Coast penthouse to his Loop headquarters was less than two miles.
Hadn’t the guy ever heard of just chilling out with some tunes?
            Olivia approached the car just as
Grant climbed out of the back seat. He paused to button the jacket of his navy
blue Tom Ford and for a moment she forgot he was an arrogant, self-righteous
prick hell bent on destroying the environment one species at a time. For a
moment, she allowed herself to take in the physical perfection standing in
front of her. From his dark wavy hair that stood in an artfully rumpled mess,
to the blue eyes that seared her skin, to his full, sensual lips – everything about
Coleman Grant oozed power and sex. And not the perfunctory kind either, but the
sheet clawing, heart-stopping, gasping-for-air-after-you’ve-screamed-so-loud-you-can’t-breathe
kind. But then his eyes narrowed and his lips curved into a knowing smirk and
Olivia remembered exactly who she was dealing with.
            “Mr. Grant,” she began.
            The bodyguard moved to step between
them but Grant waved him off. “Ms. Ramsey, what a surprise,” he said, not at
all surprised since this was the eighty-third day in a row she had approached
him. Not that it mattered. She had no plans to stop these sidewalk sessions
until he either agreed to her demands or filed for a restraining order.
            He made his way toward the coffee
shop with Olivia tight on his heels. “You know, most people simply make an
appointment with my assistant.” 
            “I’ve tried that, Mr. Grant. But for
some reason your schedule is always full.”
            “Pity,” he said, his voice void of
all emotion. When he reached the glass doors, he yanked one open. “Please,
after you.” 
            Bastard. Normally he charged in like
he owned the place, never mind if she or anyone else got a face full of door. How
dare he try to throw her off her game by acting chivalrous. As if the man had a
courteous bone in his body. Olivia stood frozen in place, debating how best to
handle this latest twist in their balance of power. As she did, Cole’s gaze
raked her from head to toe, from her blond hair tied in a sloppy bun, to her
faded jeans with the Bonaroo patch sewn on the thigh, to her combat boots splattered
with mud from the previous day’s site visit.
            She hated to admit it, but the
scrutiny of his gaze was unnerving. And it wasn’t just the laser like focus.
There was something about his expression, as if he wasn’t looking at her fully
clothed in a shop brimming with customers, but rather undressing her with his
eyes. She shifted in place, debating if she should call him out for his piggish
behavior or simply stick to the topic at hand.
            “Suit yourself,” he finally said,
stepping through the doors and leaving her alone on the sidewalk. 
            Not so fast. She took a deep breath
and joined him at the service counter.
“Mr. Grant, as I’m sure you’re aware, the northern long-eared bat was
recently granted protection as a threatened species under the Endangered
Species Act.”
            “Rather difficult to forget given
your daily reminders. Although I must say, Ms. Ramsey, you disappoint me. No
visual aids today?” He turned away from the counter with his extra hot, double
shot Americano to find Olivia standing behind him with an 8 x 10 glossy in her
hand.  “Ah, it seems I spoke too soon.”
            “This particular species of bat has
been the most impacted by white-nose syndrome and the resulting decline in
their numbers is what—”
            “Those really are the most vile
creatures,” Grant interrupted. “Have you ever considered taking up the cause of
a more appealing animal, say a manatee?”
            “There aren’t any manatees in Lake
Michigan.”
            “Precisely.” He smirked. “Perhaps
you could move? I’m sure you could find some poor, unsuspecting Floridians
worthy of your attention.” He raised his left hand and for the first time
Olivia realized he was holding a second cup. He thrust it in her direction and
without thinking she took it, dropping the photograph as she did. “You seem
like the type who would order your latte with a hundred and one specifications,
but hopefully skinny vanilla will do.”
            Olivia blinked. He bought her a
coffee? What the actual fuck? Did he really think he could charm his way out of
the hot seat? She had spent her entire adult life and most of her teens
speaking on behalf of those who couldn’t. It was going to take a lot more than
a few random acts of fabricated kindness to get her off his back.
            She was about to tell him not only
where he could stick his latte but how in her twenty-eight years on earth she’d
never ordered a “skinny” anything, when he turned toward the door. She bent to
scoop up the photo then hurried after him, fast talking her case all the way to
the curb where his bodyguard stood waiting with the door already open. As
usual, Grant didn’t say a word, much less defend his stance. Instead he simply
flashed a grin that would have made her drop her latte, not to mention her
panties, if she didn’t find him to be lacking in not only morals and ethics but
quite possibly a soul.
            He gave her a quick nod before
ducking into the car.  “Until tomorrow,
Ms. Ramsey.”
            With that, the door slammed shut and
the SUV pulled into traffic to the sound of protesting horns.
            “Asshole,” Olivia muttered under her
breath. “Gorgeous asshole, but still.” She turned on her heel and started down
the street with her head held high. Coleman Grant III might have been trying to
make a mockery of her attempts to persuade him, but their standoff was far from
over. A slow grin curved her lips as an idea began to take shape. She’d just
pulled her smartphone out to send herself a reminder when it began to vibrate
in her hand.
            “Are you bringing your swimsuit?”
her best friend asked before Olivia had even managed a hello.
            “To the desert? You’re joking,
right?”
            “I wasn’t sure.”
            “Cassie, I know you’ve had your head
buried in cookbooks for the past few years but surely you can remember how a
vacation works…lounge chairs, suntan oil, blended drinks with tiny umbrellas
that make you say ridiculously inappropriate things to cabana boys.”
            “I have never said anything
inappropriate to a cabana boy. And that’s sexist by the way.”
            “Cabana person?” Olivia laughed at
her own joke. “I’m playing. But you’ve got to lighten up a bit. We’re headed to
Vegas, Sin City, what happens there stays there and all that.”
            “You sound like a tourism ad.”
            “All I’m saying is you better be
ready to party Hangover style.”
            Cassie snorted. “Yeah, cause that
worked out so well for them.”
            “I promise I won’t leave you
stranded on a hotel roof.”
            “This is a bad idea. I should be
staying here and looking for a job.”
            “You’re the sister of the groom. You
can’t very well ditch out on the bachelor/bachelorette festivities. Besides, if
I can break my ‘Harass Coleman Grant’ streak for a few days, then you can
certainly give the stand mixer a rest.”
            “How’s that going by the way?”
            Olivia groaned. “New day, same
story. ”
            “Maybe it’s time to—”
            “Move on? No way.” While it was true
that working freelance allowed Olivia a certain amount of latitude, she prided
herself on never giving up. There was no way Coleman Grant was going to blemish
her perfect record. “I’ll just have to double my efforts.”
            Cassie laughed. “I’m actually starting
to feel sorry for the guy.”
            “Don’t be fooled by the looks. He
might be hotter than Ryan Reynolds and Ian Somerhalder combined, but underneath
that perfect exterior beats the heart of an ogre.”
            “Sounds like someone has wet
panties.”
            “Why Cassandra Miller, is that
smutty talk I hear coming out of your mouth? There may be hope for you yet.”
            “Don’t change the subject. You’ve
got the hots for this guy.”
            “Hardly. He’s eye candy all right,
but he’s also a spoiled, self-centered asshole who think it’s his way or the
highway. Not this time though.” Olivia nodded to herself. One way or another he
was going to give in to her demands. Coleman Grant III had finally met his
match. He just didn’t know it yet.
Ann Marie
Walker
 writes
steamy books about sexy boys. She’s a fan of fancy cocktails, anything
chocolate, and 80s rom-coms. Her super power is connecting any situation to an
episode of Friends and she thinks all coffee cups should be the size of a bowl.
If it’s December she can be found watching Love Actually but the rest of the
year you can find her at AnnMarieWalker.com where she would be happy to talk to
you about alpha males, lemon drop martinis or supermodel David Gandy. Ann Marie
attended the University of Notre Dame and currently lives in Chicago.
 

 

Excerpt Reveal: Plus One by Aleatha Romig

 

ARPlusOneBookCover6x9_MEDIUM

A fun, sexy new stand-alone from New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig.

He’s sexy and confident, the kind of man every woman notices. You know, the one with the to-die-for body and panty-melting smirk. And then there’s the way his designer suits drape over his broad shoulders and big…well, we’ve all heard the rumors, the ones that say he’s up for any challenge.

But I can’t see him that way. He’s my boss—technically one of the owners of the company where I work—and definitely not in my league. Men like him don’t notice women like me, and they don’t date them.

And I don’t date men like him.

Until that one time that I catch him in a compromising position when I’m also in need of a last-minute date for a wedding…and then it’s not real. It’s blackmail.

For one weekend, he’s my plus-one.

Beautiful and unobtainable.

From the moment she walked into my office with those stunning blue eyes and crazy sensual curves, she’s been on my mind. Three years and never once has she acted interested in me. Usually I flash a million-dollar smile and women fall to their knees, some literally.

Not her.

Then on the occasion that I agree to let another woman do that—fall to her knees—guess who happens to catch us?

It may not be the most conventional way to get on her radar, but I didn’t get this far in business without knowing when to seize an opportunity. If this sexy little firecracker with perfectly kissable lips thinks she can blackmail me into attending her cousin’s wedding, I’m going to jump at the chance to be her plus-one.

You love her darker side. Now it’s time to meet Leatha, the lighter side of Aleatha, as she trades her renowned twists and turns for laughs and love with this sexy new stand-alone romance, PLUS ONE.

PRE-ORDER NOW

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Chapter 1

I push the thought of my mother’s call away and concentrate on my friend, Shana. As I do, the slippery napkin escapes my hold. Quickly, I slide from my seat to retrieve it.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice says as black leather loafers stop precariously close to where I’m now kneeling to rescue my napkin.

Seeing the shoes, I look up and suck in a deep breath.

Towering above me are long legs covered in tailored trousers. As I follow them up, they lead to a trim waist, a black belt, and a white shirt that buttons over a broad chest. I barely swallow the lump in my throat as I recognize the wide shoulders covered with the matching suit jacket. Seizing the napkin, I stand, suddenly face to face with one of the owners of the company where I work.

My face burns with embarrassment as his shimmering green eyes narrow and head tilts. Inches away from me is one of the handsomest men I’ve ever met. He should be on the cover of GQ, not gracing the halls of Buchanan and Willis.

His firm lips form a tight smirk and cheeks rise in amusement. “Miss Jones.”

Staring into the sea of emerald, I try to pretend I wasn’t just on my knees in a chic restaurant in front of Duncan Willis.

“Mr. Willis,” I respond, my voice cracking. Nervously I take a step backward. As if the moment weren’t awkward enough, I wobble, teetering precariously on my high heels.

Swiftly, he reaches out, grabs my elbow, and steadies my footing. Though he just saved me from making an even bigger fool out of myself by falling face-first into what I can only imagine is a hard, defined chest, my mind is suddenly consumed with the electricity of his touch. The energy heats my skin as his grasp lingers.

aleatharomig1

Aleatha Romig is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Aleatha has raised three children with her high school sweetheart and husband of nearly thirty years. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns, she likes to spend her time a with her family and friends. Her other pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams!

Aleatha released her first novel, CONSEQUENCES, in August of 2011. CONSEQUENCES became a bestselling series with five novels and two companions released from 2011 through 2015. The compelling and epic story of Anthony and Claire Rawlings has graced more than half a million e-readers. Aleatha released the first of her series TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE, INSIDIOUS, in the fall of 2014. These stand alone thrillers continue Aleatha’s twisted style with an increase in heat.

In the fall of 2015, Aleatha moved head first into the world of dark romantic suspense with the release of BETRAYAL, the first of her five novel INFIDELITY series that has taken the reading world by storm. She also began her traditional publishing career with Thomas and Mercer. Her books INTO THE LIGHT and AWAY FROM THE DARK were published through this mystery/thriller publisher in 2016.

Aleatha is a “Published Author’s Network” member of the Romance Writers of America and a member of PEN America. She is represented by Kevan Lyon of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

NEWSLETTER | WEBSITE | FACEBOOK| AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM | TWITTER | PINTEREST

 

Excerpt Reveal: Stand by A. L. Jackson

STAND

A Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel

Coming May 22nd

 

 

“Stand is a lyrical dream of power and strength that will steal your mind, body and soul…A mind blowing 10 stars!!!” Queen Zany Book Blog

 

From NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson comes the next seductive, unforgettable Bleeding Stars Stand-Alone Novel…

 

Zachary Kennedy has never been known as a fighter, but he’ll never regret fighting for her…

 

I’m Zee Kennedy.
Quiet. Reserved. Predictable.
When my brother died, everyone thought I was just the good guy who stepped up to take his place in the band.
No one knew what I was hiding. The one thing I’ve been fighting for.
For seven years, I’ve never lost focus.
Not until one chance encounter with Alexis Kensington.
Now she’s become my greatest temptation.
I knew better than to touch her, but now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t get enough.
Her kiss becomes my air. Her body my salvation.
She needed a savior and somehow she became mine.
Taking her was a betrayal. But keeping her means risking everything.
One look at Alexis Kensington, and I know she’s worth the fight.
Will my past continue to keep me down or will I finally find the strength to pull myself up and Stand…

 

 

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EXCERPT
My hands lingered on the keys, and she reached out and set her hand on top of mine.
Warmth and light.
It invaded my senses. Clouded my judgment.
My hand flipped over, palm up, and she threaded her fingers through mine. Her head angled, so soft, this girl so fucking good.
“What is it you want, Zee? What is it you can’t have?”
You.
Flames leapt into that space between us. Alive and dancing and inciting.
A siren’s call.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I was shaking as I lifted our entwined hands. I brushed my knuckles along the silky flesh of her cheek. I swore I saw the trail of pink it left behind, the simplest touch affecting this girl.
She released a shuddered breath. It mingled with mine.
Our mouths were close—too close—and our noses just touched as we hovered in that space.
“I want things that will only ruin me, Alexis. But you…you make me want to wish for them anyway. Make me believe there’s a chance that maybe they could belong to me.”
Tension tethered us, this rigid band that had me rocking in indecision, every second getting closer and closer as I fought the foolish ideas that tried to take root.
Giving in would only destroy me. But none of that seemed to matter when I leaned in and brushed my lips at the corner of her mouth.
Her fucking delicious mouth.
Because fuck. I just needed a taste. Something to take with me. Something to tuck away, even when doing it felt like some kind of brutal tease.
Alexis gasped at the contact. I edged back the barest fraction, and she was panting these tiny breaths.
Breaths I was breathing.
Her eyes locked on mine. Hungry and pleading. Brimming with belief and hope.
I ran my thumb over the corner of her mouth where my lips had just been. “You are so beautiful. I’ve never met a girl quite like you.”
Something so genuine took hold of her expression. “I hardly know you…and somehow you make me feel like I am. Like when you look at me…you see the person I always hoped I’d become.”
Everything stilled at her words.
At her confession.
Because that’s what I wanted.
For this amazing girl to know the way I saw her. That in her space, I felt something different from all the bullshit I’d dealt with for all my life.
I felt like someone different. Someone better. Like the person I’d once hoped I’d become.
I clutched her stunning face in my hands, searching for resolve. For that dedication that right then somehow felt out of reach.
“Zee,” she whispered.
That was all it took for that band to snap.
My hands drove into her hair. And my mouth? My mouth was devouring hers.
Frenzied in its demand. Pleading the same way as her eyes had been pleading with me. Saying all the things I couldn’t ever say.
Our tongues tangled, and my spirit coiled. Heat spread in a flashfire of need. Lust rose in the knitted air, like this intangible greed we both were grappling for, searching for the fastest way to get to the peak.
Our hands searched and clawed and explored. We were a mess of limbs as we struggled to get closer to each other where we sat side by side on the bench.
“Zachary…Zachary,” she whimpered, grasping me by the back of the head. She crawled forward so she could straddle me.
Motherfuck.
My hands sank into her hips, and she edged up and pressed those gorgeous tits against the wild beat thundering in my chest. A groan rumbled out from somewhere in my soul.
She felt so perfect. So good.
I wanted to touch her. Explore her. Claim her.
My dick raged against its confines, all that delicious heat at the apex of her thighs grinding against my jean-covered cock.
It’d been too long. Too damned long. I was goin’ out of my mind.

 

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A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, as well as the newest BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for the next installment STAND, coming Spring 2017.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 24587 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

 

Connect with A.L.

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Excerpt Reveal: Preservation by Kate Canterbary – The Walsh Series – Book 7

Some things have to fall apart before they can be put back together.
PRESERVATION
The Walshes #7
Kate Canterbary
Releasing May 23, 2017
Vesper Press


Two lonely hearts.
Just once, she’d like
to be someone’s first choice.
She’s strong-willed
and spunky, but she’s left picking up the pieces from her ex’s lies and
manipulations, and daydreaming about taking a scalpel to his scrotum.
Flying under the radar
is what he does best.
He’s laid-back and
loyal, but he wants the most off-limits woman in his world, and nothing will
ever make that a reality.
An arrangement of
mutual benefit.
Two months, four
dates.
Five, if things go
well.
Five at the most.
But possibly six.
Definitely no more
than six dates.
Only the appearance of
a romantic relationship is required, and they expect nothing more from their
time together. There will be none of those
benefits involved.
One wild weekend.
 
After waking up in bed
together—very naked and even more hungover—the terms and conditions of their
arrangement no longer apply. Now they’re faced with something riskier than
exposing their fake relationship:
letting go of the past and zipping up the future.
Some things have to
fall apart before they can be put back together.

 

PRESERVATION excerpt – © 2017, Kate Canterbary
 
Riley pointed at the plate
between us. “These are my favorite pretzel bites in the city. Try
some.”
I shot him a sharp look.
“Are you just trying to get me in a good mood?” I asked. “I did eat lunch today.”
“Oh yeah?” he
asked, dipping two pretzels in the accompanying sauce. “What did you have?
Based on you yelling at me about noticing your shoes, I’d say it was an iced
venti skinny latte.”
“Almonds,” I
replied. And an iced venti skinny latte but I wasn’t copping to that just yet.
Riley tried to fight a
laugh, and failed. “Almonds?” he repeated.
“Chocolate covered
almonds, yes.” I folded my arms across my chest. “It was an
appropriate amount of calories, fat, protein, and carbs.”
He shook his head and ate
another pretzel. “I don’t want to live in a world where a few
almonds—chocolate or otherwise—are lunch.” He pointed to the plate and
pushed his beer toward me. “Eat. Drink. Please.” 
I glared at the pilsner
and pretzels. I hated being told what to do. Just fucking hated it. But then my
stomach growled—goddamn it—and Riley
shot me a pointed glance.
“People think that a
rumbling stomach is the sign of hunger,” I said, reaching for his glass. I
drained the beer and then selected a pretzel for dipping. “It is not.”
Riley gazed at me, his
expression flat. It gave me a moment to study him while choosing another
pretzel. He was wearing jeans, a tailored shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his
elbows, and a pinstriped vest, and his hair was a wreck. It looked like he’d
been tugging the dark strands in every conceivable direction. His eyes were
rimmed with a bit of red and his lids heavy, as if he’d been rubbing them or
hadn’t gotten much sleep. Perhaps both. There was a small notebook beside his
phone, and a mechanical pencil tucked into the spiral binding.
And he was still more
attractive than I knew how to handle. Even tired and irritable, and ordering me
to eat his pretzels and drink his beer, he was hot as fuck. I bit into another
pretzel and offered him a small smile.
“Would you say the
chip on your shoulder is massive or epic?” he asked. There was no hint of
amusement in his tone, and he was staring at me with more ice than I’d believed
he could muster. It didn’t feel like we were sniping at each other anymore.
“It might be semantics to you but I’m trying to get a feel for what I’m
dealing with here.”
But then one of his big
hands found my leg under the table. He squeezed and rubbed his thumb along the
hollow of my knee, and I started to believe I’d been all wrong about this man.
There was the player and there was the overgrown kid, but there was so much
more than that. 

Kate Canterbary doesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people—be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane—ever since. Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.

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Excerpt Reveal: Fraud by J.L. Berg

fraud-banner

We’re less than a week away from the release of USA Today Bestselling Author J.L. Berg’s FRAUD – and we have an excerpt for you! Check it out below and preorder your copy for a special price of just $2.99!

 

JLBFraudBookCover6x9_BW_HIGH

About FRAUD

Available May 1st, 2017

From USA Today Bestselling author J.L. Berg comes a sexy standalone about love, lies and every dirty little thing in between.

It wasn’t just a job.
It was my way back to the top.
After losing my position as a journalist for one of the biggest news publications in the world, I knew I’d do anything to get it back.
Even if it meant breaking a few hearts to get there.
She was the hottest author in the country. Known only by a pen name, there wasn’t a person alive who wasn’t dying to discover her true identity.
And I’d figured it out.

Her real name was Kate O’Malley and not only did I plan on finding her, but I fully intended on learning every dirty secret she had and exploiting it for my own gain.
But I underestimated my prey.
I didn’t anticipate how her words would intoxicate me, or how the curves of her body would consume me.
I never meant to fall in love.
And now I had a choice to make.

Do I give up everything for the woman I set out to destroy, or walk away, making me the biggest fraud of all?

Add FRAUD to your to be read shelf on Goodreads!

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Read an excerpt from FRAUD

What had started as a fun little game to bring this timid beauty out of her shell somehow turned into a wrestling match.

And I was the one about to lose.

Katelyn O’Malley was nothing like I’d imagined.

What had I imagined?

I wasn’t sure exactly.

I’d diligently done my homework— reading Scandal not once, but twice— before I’d hopped on a plane to Oregon. I’d thought the novel would give me insight to this perplexing woman I was about to meet.

It hadn’t.

Not one bit.

If anything, it’d created a thousand more questions.

At first, cracking her ironclad shell seemed like a daunting task. She had come off dry and dull.

God-awful boring.

But boring women didn’t do tequila shots until two in the morning.

Boring women didn’t lie to waiters for free wine and dessert.

And boring women definitely didn’t make me feel this way.

Needy. Desperate. And fucking horny as hell.

Even the way she licked the chocolate off her fork was making me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

This was a job.

Get your head in the game.

“You were pretty good at that,” I said, trying not to stare at the way her pink tongue darted out to grab the last bit of mousse from the tip of her finger.

“Good at what?” she asked.

“Lying.”

She let out a choking cough, patting her chest with her palm. “I’m not a good liar,” she argued.

“Really? You seemed to have everyone around us fooled, including that charming elderly couple who offered their congratulations on their way out.”

“That really was sweet.” She smiled, a touch of whimsy in her gaze. “Did you see the way they held hands? I’m pretty sure he even grabbed her ass when she walked past him to go to the restroom.”

I laughed. “My kind of guy.”

“I just wonder what it’s like— to be that in love after all that time,” she said, bending forward and resting the curve of her chin on her hand.

“How do you know it has been a long time?” I asked. “Maybe they got married late in life.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why?” I asked, curious how she’d reached that conclusion.

“There was a familiarity in the way they touched. The way they leaned into one another, the way they walked. It was as if they’d been doing so forever.”

I studied her for a quiet moment, recalling the intensity of her words and the passion in her voice. It was the first time since meeting Katelyn O’Malley, I could actually see a sliver of Laura Stone, the author, somewhere inside.

“I do believe you are a bit of a romantic at heart,” I replied.

She smiled sweetly. “Maybe a hopeless one.”

My hand reached out to hers, a needless gesture since we’d already achieved our goal for the evening and sold everyone on our false marital status.

This time, I touched her because I wanted to.

“Definitely not hopeless,” I said softly, knowing that instant that I was crossing the line between business and pleasure.

And heading straight to the land of hell.

“So, tell me about technical editing,” she said, shifting topics. “How does one get into something like that?”

I suddenly felt like I’d been hit in the face with a bucket of ice water. Here I was, in a dimly lit room, romancing the hell out of a woman I’d just met, and then reality hit.

I was lying to her.

Flat-out lying.

I needed to remember that. “There’s not much to tell,” I said, straightening slightly in my chair. “Rather boring really.”

We continued to chat about our lives. She told me more about her work at the college. I rambled off more lies about mine until the check came around.

I was feeling quite good about myself as I led us outside.

My head was clear.

But then I saw the way the moonlight highlighted her golden-blonde hair. I became mesmerized by the sway of her hips and the soft curves of her body.

Katelyn O’Malley was casting a spell on me, and she didn’t even know it.

And I wasn’t sure I wanted her to stop.

 

 

About J.L. Berg

J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series, The Walls Duet, and the Lost & Found Duet. She is a California native living in the beautiful state of historic Virginia. Married to her high school sweetheart, they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she’s not writing, you will find her with her nose stuck in a romance novel, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.

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Excerpt Reveal: Preppy Part 3: The Life And Death of Samuel Clearwater by T. M. Frazier

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Preppy, Part Three: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier is coming April 26th!!!

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Preppy, Part Three: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater by T.M. Frazier

Release Date: April 26th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

The bowtie is BACK!

Dre was just a beautiful stranger when Preppy saved her the first time around. Now, he has to save her again, but she’s no longer some stranger, she’s family, and he has no idea who or what he’s up against.

What he does know is that putting his family back together is the only acceptable outcome.

Preppy’s to-do list?

SAVE FAMILY. SEEK REVENGE.

He’s alive…and he’s out for BLOOD.

Preppy Part Three is the third book and conclusion of Preppy and Dre’s story. It’s also the 7th book in the King Series, which should be read in order starting with KING & TYRANT.

Excerpt:

Preppy placed his other hand behind my neck, pulling me closer. “Dre, when I look at you, when I touch you. I love you so much it fucking HURTS,” he said against my neck, the vibration of his words had my nipples standing at firm attention all over again.

“I don’t want you to hurt,” I said, although I knew exactly what he meant because I felt the same. I had so much love for him it made my chest swell to the point where I thought I might break inside. Preppy looked down between us to where his swollen cock bobbed with his every move. The head thick and purple, throbbing and glistening at the tip, dripping with his own need. “No, Doc, it hurts, but it’s the best kind of pain.” Preppy’s eyes were half-lidded. A devilish smirk played on his lips. “Look, it hurts so bad even my cock is crying.”

I returned his smile, looking up at him through my lashes. I licked my lips. Preppy groaned, placing his hands on both sides of my head, running his fingers through my hair. I pushed him to his back and crawled down his body, giving a quick lick to the tip of his cock, which pulsed in response. I watched his expression darken as he watched me kiss and lick my way around his thick shaft. “Fuck,” he cursed. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

“If your cock’s crying, then I’m licking the tears away,” I said, taking the head into my mouth and swirling my tongue around to taste his salty pre-cum. I moaned, the sound shot straight between my legs.

Preppy dug his hands into my hair deeper, pulling, holding me with more force. His abs flexed as I took more and more of him into my mouth, lightly sucking as I circled my lips around the soft skin of his extremely hard shaft.

I pulled back and softly blew on his wet cock. All the muscles in his arms tensed. His hips bucked into the air. His mouth fell open as he gazed down at me with a lust filled expression I know mirrored my own. “Any better?” I asked, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft.

Preppy shook his head. “No, not better. I think it’s fucking worse,” he ground out, looking as if he were in pain.

“How so?” I asked, stroking him from root to tip with a slight twist at the top.

Preppy hissed. “Because I want to fuck you again, but now I also don’t ever want my cock to be anywhere besides that beautiful mouth ever again. Those fucking red lips. Jesus fucking Christ, Doc. I thought I’d already died, but you’re the one killing me.”

“You mean like this?” I asked, taking him into my mouth again. Further this time. Preppy had a monster cock and although I used to think he was joking when he said that it was the honest truth. There was no way I’d be able to take all of him but I did the best I could, taking him until the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. Giving him all I could because I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel.

“Holy fucking, shit,” Preppy groaned, holding onto the ground for support with one hand, the other still fisted in my hair. The next few sentences that came out of his mouth were incoherent because I began to slide him out and then back again, using my hand on the part of his shaft that my mouth couldn’t reach. Over and over again I stroked and sucked him with my tongue, squeezing him with my lips and hollowing out my cheeks so my mouth was wrapped as tightly around him as possible.

I used my other hand to reach around him and squeeze his ass cheek, pulling him in closer, holding him to me. I released him and pulled him back again, letting him know it was okay to move. He nodded, and bit his bottom lip, watching as he began to thrust his hips upward into my mouth then slowly pulling back out, groaning as he repeated the motion.

Over and over again he thrust forward and pulled back. I braced myself with my other hand on his ass and again he held my head with both hands as he fucked my mouth. Harder and harder until tears were flowing down my cheeks. I watched as the cords in his neck strained with his every movement. I felt his ass muscles tense and watched as his entire body tightened and his cock hardened in my mouth before spurts of warmth shot from him, deep into my throat. Preppy threw his head back and in the sexiest most animalistic roar he came and came and came until I thought I couldn’t swallow one more drop of his salty release.

He pulled out of me and collapsed onto the floor without pulling his pants back up. He pulled me down with him and wrapped his arms around my back. “I think I just broke a promise to you,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. Our chests heaving together in unison.

“What promise?” I asked, confused.

He tucked me in closer, laying a palm over my breast. “The one where I said I wouldn’t die again,” he chuckled. “‘Cause, Doc, I’m pretty sure you just fucking killed me.”

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Preorder Today!

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Start the Series Today!

Preppy Part One

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2pEk4cu

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Preppy Part Two

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2ozkOjU

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About the Author:

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.

When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.

Well…it has a beach in it!

Her latest works include her USA TODAY BESTSELLING KING SERIES and All the Rage.

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Connect with the Author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TMFRAZIERBOOKS/

Twitter: @TM_Frazier

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Excerpt Reveal: Confessions Of A Former Puck Bunny by Cindi Madsen

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Every addict has their relapse.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER PUCK BUNNY
Taking Shots #4
Cindi Madsen
Releasing May 8th, 2017
Entangled Embrace
 

 

Confession #1: I used to be a puck bunny, but after a hockey player broke my heart, I gave up all things hockey. Now I’m just focused on finding a way to pass my math class so I can graduate college.
 
Confession #2: Ryder “Ox” Maddox’s deep, sexy voice sends fuzzy tingles through my entire body, and I’m powerless to stop it. Which is a big problem since the hot, surprisingly funny hockey player is my new math tutor.
 
Confession #3: I can’t stop thinking about how ripped Ryder is from all his hockey training, and how fun it’d be to cross lines with him.
 
Confession #4: I kissed a hockey player and I liked it.

 

Confession #5: If I’m not careful, I might relapse and fall for Ryder, and then I’ll be totally pucked.  
 
 
 
 
 
Every thought turned to how strong he was. How much I’d like to see all those muscles without a shirt in the way.
Once he’d counted off twenty-five, he stood and, as if he’d been reading my mind, peeled off his shirt.
I stared. Not subtly, either. Nope, totally unabashed, taking in every dip and groove of his sweat-glistened skin.
“Since we’re playing dirty,” he said, shooting his wadded shirt over to his bag. He grabbed my hand. “Last machine. I’m not sure you can handle it, though.”
“I’m not sure you can handle it.” As far as comebacks went, not my best, but I mentioned he was shirtless and crazy ripped, right?
He sat down on the leg machine, the one where the seat reclined at a forty-five-degree angle, and then he lifted the weighted bar that rested at shin-height with his legs.
He reached for my hand, and since I’d already talked trash, I took it, even though I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He pulled me toward him, and I had no choice but to run my shins into the weights or to straddle the machine. I chose straddling, but kept space between us like I had earlier.
My heart hammered against my rib cage, beating in time with his leg lifts, the steady clink of the weights filling the air. Ryder’s eyes remained locked on mine, and energy crackled in the air between us. He sat up enough to run his hands up my thighs.
A dart of heat shot through my core, and my breath lodged in my throat. Ryder’s fingertips skimmed the skin between my pants and shirt and desire danced across my nerve endings. Still our eyes remained fixed on each other, and I wasn’t sure I was taking in oxygen anymore.
A distant part of me whispered that if I didn’t stop this…whatever we were doing, I’d be in trouble. But fighting my attraction to him was exhausting and the ache that’d formed between my thighs grew more persistent, drowning out silly things like common sense.
I leaned over like I had before, my hands braced on either side of him. He lifted the weights again, and then he brushed his lips against mine. Just a quick slide of soft lips.
My throat went completely dry. I pressed my palm flat against his stomach and slowly slid it up, feeling his firm chest and the hammering of his heart, which echoed mine.
Ryder gripped my hips and pulled me down to sit on his lap, eradicating the space between us. He lifted the weights with his legs a few more times, each rep bumping me tighter to him. Friction was definitely happening, and with each lift, it became clearer and clearer how much it was affecting him as well.
The tiniest whimper escaped my lips and he raised an eyebrow that added even more smugness to the curve of his tempting mouth.
Two could play dirty. So I sank farther into his lap and he groaned.
Of course, all it did was give me dirty thoughts and turn me on that much more.
He lifted his legs two more times, the movement shaky. He slowly ran his fingertips up my arm, across my collarbone, up my neck, and then he reached back and tugged my hair free of its ponytail.
 
He drove his hand into my hair, cupped the back of my head, and for one torturous moment, time stopped, both of us suspended right there on edge of crossing lines.
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
Cindi Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a pretty new pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music and dancing and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children. 

 

You can visit her Website, where you can sign up for her newsletter to get all the up-to-date information on her books. 
 

 

 

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