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All other links: books2read.com/devoted1
~~~
Author: Gen Ryan
Title: When We Were Young
Series: Hopelessly Devoted #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
When she fell in love with her high school sweetheart, Rainey Matthews thought it’d be forever. But life has a habit of sneaking up and throwing a sucker punch when you least expect it.
Parker’s military career has become his top priority, leaving Rainey behind while he pursues his dreams. A combination of Parker’s PTSD and his actions threaten to tear Rainey’s heart right open, and she can no longer keep it together.
Then an unexpected lifeline appears and shows Rainey what it’s like to be cared for and loved. She finds herself happy for the first time in a while, but those sneaky sucker punches aren’t done, and keeping happiness will be an uphill battle.
Disclosure: Cliff-hanger ending. Part 2 Releases January 13th 2018 
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It was a feeling I’d never wish on my worst enemy: heartache. It felt like being dangled over the edge of a cliff and knowing if the person let go, you’d fall to your death. The anticipation, though, the hanging and waiting for them to release you, that was the worst part. The unknown, the fear. That’s what heartache was like. There was never a thought that someone else could come along and make me forget about my love for Parker. I never so much as thought of another guy. I put my all into our marriage, with the hope that maybe the person I loved would realize what he had in front of him.
Reality was, I was alone.
Always.
Despite my anger with Parker for signing up for another deployment, we worked as a team tonight, packing up his duffle bags and footlocker, filling it with his life. Sad thing was, his life fit in those bags and footlockers. It was filled with clothes, army gear, and whatever other items meant something to him. As I folded another green T-shirt, I let the tears fall. Despite everything, I was sad to see him go, but for the first time, I realized I wasn’t his life. Maybe I never had been.
“Babe.” Parker wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head. “It’s going to be all right.” I looked up at him as I often did, my eyes pleading with him to understand me. Every time I looked at Parker, I was transported back to the first day I saw him at the diner. I held on to that memory. It kept me going; it gave me hope. Looking up at him now, all I saw was loneliness, a lifetime of me hoping he would choose me, settle down and start a family. I would never ask him to give up what he loved for me, though. I couldn’t help but think if he loved me, he would have already chosen me and I wouldn’t even have to ask.
>>COMING SOON<<
BOOK 2
Releases January 13, 2018
 Preorder for 99c 
All other links: books2read.com/devoted2


You can find Gen curled up reading paranormal romance and romantic thrillers or frantically typing her stories on her laptop.

Forensic psychology is her trade by day, teaching and molding the minds of college students. Her interest in psychology can be seen in her books, each including many psychological undertones. Although she loves teaching, her passion, her true love, lies in the stories that roam around in her head. Yes, they all come from her mind–the good, the bad, and the totally insane.Gen Ryan is an international best-selling author in multiple sub genres within romance. She lives in Massachusetts–no, not Boston–with her husband, daughter, and American Eskimo dog named Chewbacca. With each story she shares, she hopes her love for writing and storytelling seeps through, encompassing the reader and leaving them wanting more.

 

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Title: Spirited Away
Genre: Romantic Mystery
Release Date: October 31, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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What happens when the legend of the old west becomes the new reality? In Mary Billiter’s fun novel of investigating the unknown and navigating love, a drop-dead sexy cop and a fiery redhead are linked by a mysterious haunting and the unsolved crime of passion behind it all.

When Reese Pemberton relocates from the Golden State to the Cowboy State for a corporate promotion, she discovers a different state of mind. From the hustle and bustle mayhem of the Bay Area to the slow and easy meanderings of Wyoming, Reese welcomes the change in pace as the hotel’s new general manager. However, she shuts the door on the notion that her hotel is haunted.

But when a series of mishaps introduces the fiery redhead to the hotel’s legendary cowboy ghost, she begins to question the events surrounding his demise.

Reese and Cheyenne police detective Cody Pring join forces to put to rest the spirit that haunts the hotel. In the process, they discover long-buried secrets. Can the two solve a decades-old mystery or are some things better left with the dead?

When I locked gazes with her, her hazel eyes looked a little sleepy. I knew she wasn’t ready for a nap, but she was ready for bed. She had a restful, dreamy look about her that craved naked escapism, and I wasn’t about to disappoint.
I carefully tore apart the two Velcro straps that held her knee brace in place. The brace fell to the floor and her fishnet-covered knee bent toward me. It wasn’t as badly swollen as before. Still, I gently massaged it as my hand slowly made its way along the inside of her thigh.
I stopped short and raised my brows. “Are you wearing a garter?”
She gazed downward at me through her long, dark lashes. Her come-hither look sent a signal straight to my cock, which pulsed hard.
She slowly inched off her skirt, and beneath the lace was more lace. Sexy. Red silky straps held her fishnet stockings attached to a high-waist, lacy, scallop-edged garter. A tiny pair of panties barely covered her patch. I couldn’t tell if she had hardwood, full carpet, or a landing strip. I was hoping for hardwood. Something about a naked pussy drove me nuts. My hand reached behind her and dug into her fleshy ass.
“A thong and garter. You’re the best-kept secret at this hotel.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward into a beautiful smile. “Thank you, Private. And perhaps you could help?” She turned, revealing the back of her corset. A row of tiny buttons traced her spine. I slowly began unbuttoning her. When the final button was unfastened, she turned back to me and slowly pulled away the corset.
Her breasts were instantly exposed. Plump breasts with erect cherry-red nipples were cradled on the cups of her bra. She slowly stood, and in a garter and thong, with full, supple breasts poking out, everything about her teased and tantalized. She looked like a showgirl. She pushed off my jacket and slid her hands beneath my T-shirt, feeling my chest. Her hand warmed me. I pulled off my T-shirt, and she pressed her tits against me.
I held her plump ass and slowly slid my finger along the thong that rode between her cheeks. Her body responded, and she wrapped her leg around mine and pressed into me. My cock rose to meet her. I unhooked my gun belt and laid it on the table beside the couch. She fumbled with the button on my wool pants. I held her wrist, unhooked my pants with one hand, and let them fall as far as they would. My cock stopped most of the progress. I released her and bent down to unbuckle my boots and toss them aside. My pants fell to the floor, and I kicked them off. But before I could straighten, her red heel rose and planted itself on my thigh. She gently pressed into me, and my desire heightened. As I knelt with my arms stretched toward her, I felt like Atlas, and she was my world.
I didn’t know what it was about this redhead, but being with her didn’t feel like I was running away. It actually felt like I was running toward something. But I had to be sure.
“I don’t want just a random hookup.” The words blurted from my mouth.
She gazed down at me and grinned. “Private Pring, is that all you think this is?”
With her heel pressed into my thigh, I wanted nothing more than to get things going and going good, but something inside me wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know what this is.”
Her eyes softened. “Cody, I usually don’t do this.” She paused. “But I also usually don’t get slammed into by a bar door while I’m jogging, and then get stuck in a boiler room in the same night—and rescued by the same man.”
I felt my face burn with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.
“So, this is new for me too,” she said. “But I thought it was time to break free, have some fun, and you were my first choice.” She giggled. “Truth be told, you were my only choice, so I’m really glad you didn’t refuse me my whimsy.”
“Refuse you? Reese, I could live to be a hundred and I wouldn’t be able to refuse you anything.”
I couldn’t tell if she was shocked in a good or bad way. I opted to shut up, change gears, and nibble on the inside of her thigh while my tongue trailed toward her clit. Heat radiated off her panties when I pushed the silky material aside and tongued her. A small strip of hair made me glad she hadn’t shaved it off. Her hands grabbed the sides of my head and pressed my mouth further into her. The way her lips swelled and the juice flowed so readily was primal. It was a signal to my cock that she wasn’t just ready for me, she wanted me.
But I wasn’t ready. Not until I heard the sweet echo of her orgasm. My tongue did a tango against her clit, moving it back and forth, backing off, and before I gently charged toward it, I reached up and tautly held her nipple. She gasped and then pressed her clit toward my lips. I watched her reaction as I suckled on it. Her mouth opened like she was about to roar. And when I ran my tongue along her swollen lips and dipped inside her sweet wetness, the sound she emitted was raw, primitive, and sexier than anything I’d ever heard.
“Yes. Right. There.”
My hand remained clamped on her nipple, and my tongue continued to play hide-and-seek with her clit. I’d rush it, then back off, then rush it again. It was a pace that sent her to a fevered pitch of euphoria.
“Oh my God,” she cried.
She threw her head back and sweat beaded between her breasts, but I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t, not until she had another orgasm. There was nothing composed about me or what I was doing. I operated from lust, passion, and point of climax. I wanted her to have an eyes-open, screaming orgasm she’d never forget.
I had less than thirty minutes, and I wanted to taste and feel every part of her. I released her nipple, looped my arm under knee, and turned her around.
“Kneel. I mean, if you can.”
“Oh, I can,” she said. And from the look in her eyes, I knew, bum knee or not, she was more than game for adventure.
I brought her arms up and placed them against the wall while she knelt on the couch. I spread her legs apart and frisked every curve, dip, and crevice of her body with my hands. I pressed my shoulder into her back as my hand felt along the seam of her fishnet stockings that stopped short of her ass. I grabbed my Leatherman tool from my belt, flipped it open, and placed the blade against the side of her panty and cut. I did the same with the other side, and her panties dropped between us on the couch. Her red lace garter belt hugged her waist, and nothing stood in my way of what I desired most.
I knelt on the floor in front of the couch and slowly licked her cheeks. Her body tensed. I repeated, increasing my rhythm until she surrendered to the sensation of my tongue on her sensitive skin. I parted her ass and buried my mouth inside her while my finger reached beneath her and fingered her. She dripped with wetness that I slathered on the shaft of my cock.
“Condoms. Where are they?” I kept my tone sharp and direct, and she responded by pointing toward the side table. I opened the drawer, and a large box of Magnum condoms was tucked inside. I grabbed a packet, ripped it open with my teeth, and placed it on my cock.
I stood behind her and placed the tip of my cock between her legs. When she didn’t stop me and instead pushed against me, I moved toward her wetness.
Her hands remained pressed against the wall, and I remained pressed against the edge of entry.
“Am I hurting you?”
She looked over her shoulder, and her eyes were dark with desire. “Fuck me.”
Despite her command and her groans that filled the room, I slowly moved my cock toward her pussy. There was a moment when I either had to push forward or back off.
She turned again, and this time her eyes flashed and her tone was sharp. “Private, are you man enough to fuck me, or do I need to get someone else to do the job for you?”
“No, ma’am.” My response was instinctive to her authority. I wasn’t in charge. Who am I kidding? I may have the cock, but she directed every move I made. And the more she dominated the situation, the more I thought I wanted her to.
“Okay then, Private, take your big cock and fuck me—hard. And if by some miracle you don’t prematurely lose your load, then you can fuck me again. Understood?”
My cock throbbed, and it was a miracle I hadn’t lost my load. Still, I took my time entering her, and as soon as I did, I had to slow my roll or I’d lose it altogether. But she didn’t know slow. She rocked back and forth against my cock.
I had to take charge or face humiliation. I grabbed her hips, thrust into her, and took control. She cooed and practically purred.
“That’s right.”
I moved in and out of her with a burning desire only she could quench. Her cries filled the room. I pulled out and flipped her around so her breasts faced me.
“I want your tits. Your big nipples.” I tugged on one with my teeth, pulling it to the pressure point and then backing off. Taking her to the tipping point was tested when she mounted me. She hopped on my cock, held onto my shoulders, wrapped her legs around me, and rode me like a rented mule. With her nipple between my teeth and her other breast bouncing, she made me feel like a man. And when I was with Reese, I wanted to be that guy. That guy who did the right thing and was man enough to let down his guard so a beautiful woman like this felt safe and secure to open herself to me.  My cock slid in and out of her wetness. I released her nipple and looked at her.
“I’m not sure how much longer I can last,” I said.
The corners of her mouth drooped slightly downward—not a full-on pout, but enough to mimic a frown and inspire me to get a grip. The woman was insatiable. Or maybe she hadn’t ever been properly fucked. Either way, I had to cowboy up and fuck her proper.
But when her breasts continued to bounce, teasing me, taunting me, and her pussy maintained a tight choke hold around my cock, I wasn’t sure I’d last. Everything about her was a perfect fit. I wanted to last forever, but I’d settle for lasting another five minutes.
“I’m sorry you can’t last,” she said. “I thought I picked a man—not a boy.”
She’s good. Her jibe spurred me and hardened my cock until I thought my foreskin would tear. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and her stockinged legs wrapped around my waist. I nipped her nipple with my teeth, and she screamed with delight.
“Hell yes, Private. More. Now!”
I pinched her other nipple and gave a little nip to her tit. I quickly discovered Reese liked a little bit of pain with her pleasure. And as long as I didn’t draw blood, I was down. In turn, her heels dug into my ass, and together the pleasure and pain were in sync. Big time.
Her mouth found mine, and the tip of her tongue played with me, and I imagined it on the head of my cock. This beautiful redhead was driving me crazy with pleasure.
She ground hard on me. Her sexuality was as open as her passion that knew no bounds.
“Cody.”
It was the first time she called my name.
“I want you,” she cooed.
Her voice was a soft directive to my heart. Her desire for pleasure and for me to be in charge brought out my best. I leaned into her, burrowing my cock into her slippery, swollen pussy. She arched, and I held the small of her back. She screamed, and warmth oozed over my cock. That’s three. I no longer had to wait.
“I’ll teach you to sass me.” I pulled out and turned her around. “Grab the back of the couch, spread your legs, and shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
My cock had a full load ready to discharge. I slowly slipped into her pussy, and the tightness from entering her from behind was beyond my ability to maintain control. But I grabbed her hips and got three long, deep, penetrating strokes into her hot, tight little pussy before I erupted deep inside her.
No sooner had I collapsed on top of her than my cell phone buzzed on the end table.
“I think my thirty went into sixty,” I said into her velvety hair.
Her lips found mine and tenderly kissed me. “No regrets.”
“With you?” I said. “Never.”
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Mary Billiter is a weekly newspaper columnist and fiction author. She also has novels published under the pen name, “Pumpkin Spice.”Mary resides in the Cowboy State with her unabashedly bald husband, her four amazing children, two fantastic step-kids, and their runaway dog. She does her best writing (in her head) on her daily runs in wild, romantic, beautiful Wyoming.

 

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Title: Trusting Him
Series: Bromley Brothers, Book 1
Genre: Gay Romance
Release Date: October 28, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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Event coordinator Trey Bromley is the youngest of three brothers and is out and proud. The last thing he’s looking for is a man who doesn’t know what he wants.
After a chance meeting with David Rossi, a security guard who has recently discovered his bisexuality, Trey begins to question exactly what he wants and how much he’s prepared to bend his own rules.
His deep voice is full of sex when he says, “You realise when I said I was hungry, I didn’t mean for food, right?”
“I’m aware.”
He grins. “Good.” Still holding my hand, he pulls me in closer and cocks his brow. “So are you gonna invite me inside?”
My breath hitches. “Excuse me? You have some nerve—”
“I want you,” he says. “And some part of you wants me. Invite me inside, Trey.”
I scowl. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Why not? Somebody should.”
I sputter. “What?”
He shrugs and lets my hand go. “You can be an arrogant little shit, and I’m just—”
“What?” This guy is unbelievable! “I’m an arrogant shit?”
“That’s what I just said.” His words and his solemn nod are the last straw.
I punch him in the face.
Well, I try to. He ducks away just in time, smirks, and it fuels my rage. I shove him in the chest in a quick burst of energy, but I’m lucky if he moves an inch. “You’re the arrogant shit!” I yell. “Ever since I first saw you, you’ve been a complete arsehole! And don’t fucking tell me you want me right before you insult me, that’s not how it works! The second part completely supersedes the first, so fuck you very much and goodnight.”
I make it two steps before I’m pulled into his arms. I struggle for a moment until his lips meet mine. Fuck, this man is mercurial. I don’t understand him or anything that comes out of his mouth, but I can’t deny the physical chemistry we have. His touch brings out a hunger in me I’ve never experienced before.
His lips move down over my chin to my neck. He growls, “Invite me inside, Trey.”
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Canadian born Laura N. Andrews moved to Australia when she was three years old. When she finished high school, she successfully completed her studies in law enforcement. Since then, she’s been working for over five years as a pharmacy assistant. When she’s not working or spending time with family and friends, you can find her either curled up with a book or writing one of her own.

 

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Title: Inked Hearts
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 21, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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“Six years, a complex about my freckles, a love for pastrami, and a fear of failure. That’s what he gave me before slaughtering my heart and my faith in men.”

Suffering from the sting of betrayal, twenty-eight-year-old Avery Johannas quits her job and moves hundreds of miles away to Ocean City, the beach town of her dreams. With the help of her zany roommate, Jodie, Avery finds a new career, home, and freedom. Throughout her self-exploration, she makes only one rule: She won’t give her heart to a man again. She’s living for herself this time.

But then she meets Jesse.

A tattoo shop owner, the green-eyed Jesse Pearce is wild with a touch of mystery. As Jesse and Avery explore Ocean City and their friendship, they’ll have a hard time drawing a line in the sand between their hearts.

When summer nights get a little more heated than either expected, they’ll have to ask themselves: Can they let go of their notions of love, or will their hearts be permanently inked by past pain?

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Six years, a complex about my freckles, a love for pastrami, and a fear of failure.
That’s what he gave me before slaughtering my heart and my faith in men.
To be fair, I’m a bit jaded now, my objectivity overpowered by the vision of him between the sheets with his secretary, Nora. Her perfectly tan body, the blonde hair, him moving on top of her, the look on their faces when I came home early….
“Focus,” I shout like a crazy person. My mastiff Henry rustles in the back seat, stretched over duffle bags, a few beach towels, and some random household items. I flick on my left turn signal, peering over my shoulder to try to get a clear view of the lane beside me. It’s next to impossible, since my tiny Suzuki’s bogged down by the material contents of my life, or at least those things I deemed worthy enough to carry to the next phase. Always a precarious driver at best, I tell myself to breathe, say a little prayer, and swerve into the lane beside me. Mercifully, it works. We don’t die.
I adjust my sunglasses on my head, a few flyaway strands of hair sticking to my hot-pink lip gloss and making me wish I opted for plain lips. But a girl changing her life… well, it felt like a pink lip gloss kind of day this morning.
I drive on, Keith Urban’s songs and Henry’s snoring my only company besides my warped memories and anxiety-ridden thoughts. The sun beats down, a few clouds wispy in the bright sky. It’s a gorgeous day, a day screaming of redemption, of resurrection.
With nothing but time to think for the last two hours of my drive, my mind wanders to another dark place—the place beyond the bedroom escapades of my ex-husband. It travels to the place of doubt, the place so many family members and friends have played on in the past few weeks.

 

A high school English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay’s the English teacher cliché; she love cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.

She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, and Bob; and their Mastiff, Henry.
Lindsay’s goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the “typical romance.” With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, “I see myself in that novel.” She wants to speak to the modern woman’s experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, “That could happen,” or “I feel like the characters are real.” That’s how she knows she’s done her job.
Lindsay’s hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isn’t out of the realm of possibility.

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Author: Skye McNeil
Title: Appointed by Fate
Series: The Mobster Files, Book 1
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: September 30, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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One of Iowa’s most prominent criminal attorneys, Joci Dorous is ruthless and devoid of emotion in the courtroom. It’s what makes her the best. Her most recent client allegedly committed murder and, despite a rocky start, Joci is determined to win Cameron Shearer’s case.

Since this is her first homicide, she has the support of a second-chair attorney—her ex who wants her back. To make things more complicated, her hunky cop of a booty call, Cameron’s arresting officer, isn’t quite ready to let her go either. Who knew being surrounded by three hot guys could be so deliciously exhausting?

As the mystery of the case unravels, she soon discovers the true reason behind Cameron’s impromptu visit to Iowa. It’s this knowledge that endangers all those she holds dear. Caught up in confusion, chaos, and criminal law, how will her heart survive the final verdict?

They sat in comfortable silence, Cameron’s warmth spreading over her and compelling her eyes to close. No doubt it was way beyond the normal time she fell into bed at night.
“Just so you know, neither the attorney douche nor the cop stripper will work for you,” he whispered into her ear, forcing her eyelids to stay open.
Joci grunted. “You wouldn’t know who works for me.”
Cameron circled a bold arm around her waist, pulling her flush to him. His mild scent filled her senses, lulling her. “Maybe not yet, but I can tell neither guy could make you happy. Not in the long run.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she let her eyes linger on his torso. He was magnificent up close, but even more so because she felt him beside her. She’d never thought the lanky kid with Metallica T-shirts would grow up to be more handsome than the majority of her exes. Why she allowed him to grip her like this, she’d never understand, but it was familiar.
“How would you know who would bring me happiness?” she questioned.
“I just do.” With fluid movements, he reached back and tugged at her ponytail. “I hate these things, by the way.” He clutched the hair tie and slid it down until her hair fluttered into her face. “Much better.”
“Why are you so much nicer when it’s the two of us?”
He tilted his neck and trailed his hands up her sides. “I don’t know. You’ve got this effect on me. I’m either an asshole because I want to see that angry crinkle on your brow.” He smirked when she obliged. “Yeah, that. Or because I want to know how your lips taste on mine.”
Joci’s breath caught in her throat. No words could form in her mind. She couldn’t admit to having reciprocal wayward thoughts. They were friends. Even if he was my first crush. Instinctively, her eyes lowered to his mouth. That was a mistake. His full lips curved in a smile.
“You too, huh?” Cameron’s hands disappeared, making her whip her attention to where they were going.
With care, he eased her back to the couch and tucked her under his arm. She expected him to make a move—they both wanted it—but he didn’t do anything. He simply kept her safe in his arms. With heavy eyes, Joci sensed her body drifting to sleep. The steady rhythm of Cameron’s heartbeat in her ear calmed her. She shouldn’t stay, but her tired body swayed her from the thought. Falling asleep in the sturdy arms of an ex-convict who also happened to be her oldest friend was her best definition of perfect. They used to build forts in the basement of his house and spend the night in sleeping bags, so what was the harm?
Startled to consciousness sometime later, Joci sat up and gasped. Somehow, the lights had been turned off, save the lone one above the kitchen sink. She glanced around the room and saw the clock on the wall. Shit, it’s three in the morning.
Cameron shifted beside her, and her pulse quickened. He looked too damn handsome for a murderer, with his unruly curls and long eyelashes. The darkness hid his tattoos, but she ached to turn on a light to see them. They were always a deterrent before, but the ones he wore fit him and drew her in more each time she viewed them.
“Aren’t you going to make me breakfast?” his sleepy voice mumbled when she managed to retreat from the cozy couch.
Cursing, Joci turned around to see him studying her. “It’s not morning yet, so I’m off the hook,” she teased.
He didn’t try to stop her, just watched her instead. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your boyfriend wannabe or your fuckboy about this.”
Joci was startled when she realized that possibility didn’t bother her. Thinking on it, she wasn’t sure how either Adrian or Quinn would react to hearing she’d slept in Cameron’s arms. She wasn’t in a relationship with either one, so it didn’t matter. Adrian would curse her out for putting herself in a compromising position with the ethics board, but they hadn’t done anything, and they were friends long before her firm was retained for the case. Plus, it was sleeping, not screwing.
“It’s fine,” she reiterated, searching for her purse.
“Then you’d want to do it again?” Cameron appeared at her side.
“Shit, you move like a ninja.”
He clicked his tongue. “Not an answer.”
Swinging first her coat and then her purse over her shoulder, Joci shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Cameron. It can’t happen again. I’m your attorney, whether we knew each other years ago or not.”
His arms were around her in a flash, sending her off-balance. Cameron caught her against the wall, his dark eyes scouring her face. “Pretty soon you won’t be.” He pressed his body to hers, the act sending a ripple effect through Joci. “But it is kinda hot this way too.”
She should move away from him, but the tender yet steady way he held her made Joci second-guess herself. By the time she talked her body into escape, his lips were there to silence her.
Erratic butterflies swarmed her gut when his mouth fastened to hers. Cameron plunged his hands in her tousled hair and tilted her head up to meet his. Any gasp she wanted to muster dissolved at his prodding tongue. The more he kissed her, the more Joci was positive this was a dream. She couldn’t be kissing a client like a slut! It was a dream and nothing more, she was certain—until he came up for air.
“I want you to remember this in the morning, Ms. Dorous.” His eyes dropped to her neckline and he let out a shaky breath. “Because you would be the type to think you’re imagining this.”
Not given the chance to answer, Joci’s moan echoed in his mouth when his hands cupped her ass. His kiss bolted her feet to the floor, hurling her mind into fathomless wonder. Leisurely, his lips moved to her neck, then lower until he reached her shirt.
“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he warned, dropping to his knees and lifting her shirt.
Joci’s breath hitched. Having him in front of her in such an intimate way sent naughty visions through her imagination. She dug her nails into his shoulders when his lips clashed with the tender flesh of her breast. Her brain screamed at her for allowing his daring act, but the delightful pain he caused in her veins silenced her.
When he detached his mouth from her, Joci whimpered at the loss. Time was a foreign concept as he stood to tower above her. His breath washed over her face.
“Better scurry home, Joci. If you stay here much longer, I won’t have any control of myself,” he warned, his brown eyes filled with longing. His hand traced the breast he’d left moments prior. “Sweet dreams.”
She bobbed her head in agreement. She needed to get out of there before he killed her with his lips. On a cloud of desire, Joci moved to the exit and felt his gaze on the back of her head. Checking over her shoulder, she spotted his tall figure, but couldn’t decipher the emotions on his face.
Once outside the apartment, her hand fluttered to her chest. She reached the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level. What just happened couldn’t be described. She didn’t know why it happened or what it meant, but her body wanted more of it.
Curiosity got the better of her and she yanked up her shirt. “A hickey! That son of a bitch gave me a fucking hickey!” She yelped at the sight of the red love mark. A smile overwhelmed her face before she could stop it. She had to hand it to Cameron; she wouldn’t be forgetting what transpired anytime soon, thanks to his reminder on her body.
It was then that she was thankful she refused both Adrian’s and Quinn’s proposals for relationships. After feeling a portion of what Cameron could give her, she couldn’t think about, much less accept another man’s touch. The problem was she wanted more of what he offered. A craving that was both foolish and erotic.

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Skye McNeil began writing at the age of seventeen and has been lost in a love affair ever since. During the day, she moonlights as a paralegal at a law firm favouring criminal law.
Skye enjoys writing romantic comedies and cozy mysteries novels that leave readers wanting more and falling in love over and over. She writes contemporary and historical novels ranging from sweet and sassy to steamy and sultry.
Her constant writing companions are two cats and two dogs. When she’s not writing, Skye enjoys spending time with family, photography, volleyball, traveling, and curling up with a cup of coffee and reading.
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Title:Rule Breakers
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: September 16th, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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What happens when the rules and the heart conflict? In Mary Billiter’s witty novel of rule breaking and delectable romance, a red-hot suit and a beautiful computer geek are linked by heartbreaking loss and a passion certain to set fire to your pages.

 


From parking space to cyberspace, Waterfront Point hotel valet Carmen Gonzalez uncovers computer espionage at her own workplace. The independent, computer-whiz Carmen decides that the best way to fight the system is to hack it.
But when Hank Hughes arrives from the Oregon Coast to the Pacific Coast to take care of family business and avenge an injustice, Carmen’s “act first, think later” approach is called into question. Carmen soon realizes you can’t follow the rules and follow your heart, so one has to be broken.

 

Ohhhhhhh. Damn.
Bryce ran and grabbed the suitcase I’d dropped. “I’ll take care of the bags.”
I barely nodded.
Hank stepped toward me. “I was hoping to run into you today.”
I stared into the greenish-brown eyes that swirled together like his brother’s, but instead of spinning me for a loop, they bored into my heart. Hard.
“Carmen?”
I heard Hank, but I couldn’t respond. I’m falling for a giant.
He gently touched my shoulder with a massive hand. “You okay?”
“No one’s ever done that.” Suddenly I felt like a young girl. I wrapped my arms around him—or what I could of his waist. “You’re my hero.”
He tipped my chin toward him, looked longingly into my eyes, lowered his head, and softly kissed me. His lips melded into mine, his heart beat against me, and my body responded, pressing into him with a mixture of tenderness and desire that had no beginning and no end.
“Gonzalez!”
Nothing like hearing my surname bellowed across the front drive to completely kill a romantic moment. Time of death, 12:35 p.m.
I pulled away from Hank, but not before staring into his eyes. “I don’t want you to vanish again.” I finally let my heart and not my head speak. “I don’t want you to leave.”
A devil-may-care grin crossed his face. “Now, who said anything about goodbye?”
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Mary Billiter is a weekly newspaper columnist and fiction author. She also has novels published under the pen name, “Pumpkin Spice.”Mary resides in the Cowboy State with her unabashedly bald husband, her four amazing children, two fantastic step-kids, and their runaway dog. She does her best writing (in her head) on her daily runs in wild, romantic, beautiful Wyoming.

 

 

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Title: Beautiful Torment
Author: Gen Ryan
Series: Thin Red Lines #3 (Standalone)
Genre: Romantic Suspense, Thriller, Crime
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Desiree Garcia always runs from her problems. But escaping memories and tragedy is impossible, no matter the distance. When her last FBI case pushes Desiree to her limits, she knows it’s time to move once more. This time, she heads back home and returns to her family and to her best friend she abandoned so long ago.

Hunter Collins was there for Desiree from the day they met at just twelve years old. He stood by her and waited for her, even when she joined the FBI, leaving him and all she loved behind. Now she’s back, he’s determined to not let her go again.

When faced with a police case that she can’t say no to, Desiree and Hunter navigate through the investigation as she faces the horrors of her past. As they struggle to solve the case, it’s up to Hunter to keep her tethered.

Will love and friendship be enough to save Desiree from herself and all that is tormenting her?

“Why are you looking at me like I’m a piece of meat?” I glared at Hunter, who had this distant, yet sexual look in his eyes. His gaze traveled over my face, down my body, and stopped at my chest. He’d been looking at me differently since I came home, like he wanted to jump my bones. It wasn’t unwelcome. What girl didn’t like being looked at like she was everything to someone? Ben looked at me like that, but I didn’t feel anything other than horny most of the time. Hunter and I had history, a past that wasn’t hidden; he knew all there was to know about me, and I knew all there was to know about him. The thought of him between my legs crept into my mind often. The way his glasses balanced on his nose when he was doing research, the scruff on his face because he hadn’t shaved in days because he was following a lead and neglected everything about himself until he had answers. The slight tan of his skin that seemed perpetual due to the California sun. My absolute favorite thing about him, though, was his smile. It always stretched across his face and showcased the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Even when I was sad, or missing my sisters. Or my prior FBI colleagues turned best friends, Eden, Avery, and Madison. Hunter’s smile took some of that pain away.
“Sorry, your shirt is rather distracting.” Hunter whistled as he spun the keys to my car around in his hand. I glanced down and remembered that I’d thrown on a white T-shirt with no bra. My round, brown nipples were hard and peeking through. That’s what I got for having naughty thoughts about Hunter between my legs.
“It’s natural,” I mumbled, pulling on my shirt so it wasn’t so tight against me. Hunter grunted and shook his head.
“Let’s, um—” Hunter looked over the top of his glasses. “Head to your parents?” I didn’t like the awkwardness that had fallen over the room. I thought about lifting my shirt and giving him a full, unobstructed view of what was underneath. Again, bad idea. Sex and friendship never worked. But my God, was the sexual tension annoying as hell. Maybe just a little peek.
I stretched. Hunter’s eyes widened again as my nipples pressed against my shirt. Fuck. Now the tension was full-blown desire.
“Damn. I’m sorry. I’ll go change.” I got up and headed to my bedroom as Hunter called after me.
“Loving the view, but unless you’re going to stop being a tease, white shirt without a bra simply won’t do.” We played this game all the time. Flirted innocently. Lately though, there seemed to be more behind what we both said. I told him to shove something in my mouth to shut me up when I started talking incessantly, and secretly wanted it to be his dick. And he told me he’d service all my needs and to kick Ben to the curb. Well, there was no Ben, and my needs would need servicing, so….
“I’m changing, you horndog.” I quickly threw on a bra and a darker-colored shirt. “Let’s go before you hump my leg.” Hunter laughed as he shook his head.
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You can find Genevieve curled up reading paranormal romance and romantic thrillers, or frantically typing her stories on her laptop.


Psychology is her trade by day, teaching and molding the minds of college students. Her interest in psychology can be seen in her books, each including many psychological undertones. Although she loves teaching, her passion, her true love, lies in the stories that roam around in her head. Yes, they all come from her mind-the good, the bad, and the totally insane. 


She lives in Massachusetts-no, not Boston-with her husband, daughter, and American Eskimo dog. With each story, she shares, she hopes her love for writing and storytelling seeps through, encompassing the reader and leaving them wanting more.


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Author: Megan Lowe
Title: Breaking Away
Series: Rocking Racers, Book 3
Genre: Contemporary Sports Romance
Release Date: August 5, 2017
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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To the outside world, Mav Ryan is living the dream. With a high profile and successful FMX career, it’s something Mav knows a million guys would kill to have. But not him. He yearns for something different, something more.
Aubrey James has had enough of bad boys to last a lifetime. When her brother, Josh, brings home the heavily tattooed definition of a bad boy, Mav, she wants nothing to do with him. It’s not until a shadow from Aubrey’s past threatens her future, that to her surprise, Mav steps in.
But can he fight her demons as well as his own? Or will Mav realise that sometimes breaking away can lead to finding your home?

It’s a cliché, but as I walk out of the ballroom the gala is being held in, I feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The sounds of the party quickly fade as I leave it and my family behind. I know this is a shitty way of doing things, but I couldn’t think of another way. Besides, it’s not like I had this planned. It was only when Reed gave his toast that I realised I had no idea what I was waiting for. It’s not like my family are going to give me a permission slip to leave. I don’t even know if they know I’m not happy. Nope, this is all up to me.

I quickly drive through our moderately sized home town to the house Jax and I share. Looking out my bedroom window, I can see the house I grew up in, the lights all on. My pa and pop are in there looking after Avery and Chris. I know I should go over there and tell them what I’m doing, where I’m going, but I’m scared shitless of their reaction. It’s not that I think they’ll be pissed; it’s the disappointment I know I’ll see in their eyes that stops me. I might be the strong, silent type, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to withstand that. With all my shit packed, I quickly scribble a note.

I’m sorry I left this way, but it was the only way I thought I could. I don’t mean to upset anyone, but I can’t live like this anymore, it’s too much. Please let me go. I’ll be okay and get in touch when I’m ready. I’m sorry. I love you all, Mav.

I’m an hour outside Booker when the calls start. First Bria, then Reed and Jax. Just as I reach the New South Wales border, a final text message comes through, this one from Park.
Park: Do what you need to, be safe, we love you.
I turn off my phone and toss it onto the passenger seat. The road stretches out in front of me, and for the first time in a long time I feel like I can breathe.

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Megan Lowe is a lost journalism graduate who after many painful years searching for a job in that field, decided if she couldn’t write news stories, she would start listening to the characters whispering stories to her and decided to write them down.  She writes primarily New Adult/Contemporary Romance stories with Sport and Music themes. She is based on the Gold Coast but her heart belongs to New York City. When she’s not writing she’s either curled up with a good book, travelling or screaming at the TV willing her sporting teams to pull out the win.

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Author: Randi Perrin
Title: Virtue and Honor
Series: Earthbound Angels, Book 3
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: July 29, 2017
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: RMGraphX

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Angela Waters juggles two high-stress jobs: nurse and earthbound angel. On a rare girls’ night out, she intervenes and saves the life of Mason Kearney, a stripper with southern charm and a secret. It’s a move that will force her to contemplate why in all the heavens she puts up with the injustice of being an angel, which leads to a bombshell that challenges everything she’s ever known.

In the midst of falling for the Alabama boy, she’s in for the fight of her life when a demon, hell-bent on taking her wings, shows up at the most inopportune times.

With a family of angels rallying behind her, she’s sent on a mission to learn everything about them, herself, and evil, to save all the earthbounds from an untimely demise.

Can Angela survive with her heart and her wings intact?

Angela cringed as the stripper—egged on by a twenty from her best friend, Harper—moved even closer. He was just a breath away, gyrating his hips in time with the heavy bass beat blasting from the speakers in the hazy room.
He was attractive, she’d give him that, with his washboard abs covered in stripper grease and his square jaw covered in light stubble. His shoulders were broad and his smile projected warmth. But she had no clue how to act with a cute guy grinding his heart out, his crotch—covered by a thin layer of sparkly purple fabric—almost dead even with her nose. She had been hypnotized by the guy since the moment she laid eyes on him, a pull that kept her from looking away, which was the only reason why she didn’t make Harper do an about face and walk them back out the door when they got there. When Harper suggested a “girl’s night out,” she had no idea it would culminate in ogling well-oiled men and shoving bills down their contour-hugging briefs. Even if it did include the brown-haired Adonis scantily clad in purple who was shaking what his momma gave him as he prowled around for money.
Angela gave him a tiny smile before she leaned back against the hard chair and winced. For a place that relied on customers staying for long periods of time, the seats were not comfortable.
Harper pulled a few more bills out of her wallet and winked at her. “Enjoying the scenery? I can get him back over here.” She thumbed through the wad of ones and fives with a smile.
“I can’t believe you brought me to a place like this,” Angela said, reaching for the glass in front of her, which contained the remnants of a virgin tequila sunrise… so, just a sunrise.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a place like this. You are straight, aren’t you?”
Angela rolled her eyes. Harper knew her preferences. In fact, Angela had been in lust with Harper’s younger brother for most of high school, finally hooking up with him during their senior year. However, he had been ripped from everyone too soon. She’d been on a few dates since then, but no one had lived up to Bryce. Angela didn’t have time for a relationship anyway, what with pulling twelve-hour shifts at work.
“Come on, it’s been three years since we lost Bryce,” Harper said, sadness clouding her eyes for a split second before returning to glee with the sights that surrounded her. “We’ve got to get you a good hook-up, get you laid. You’re still just as virgin as that drink in your hand. Speaking of the drink, we should fix that as well.”

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Randi has spent her entire life writing in one form or another. In fact, if she wasn’t writing, she’d likely go completely and utterly insane. Her husband has learned to recognize when the voices are talking in her head and she needs some quality time with an empty Word file (the key to a successful marriage with a writer).

She lives with her husband, daughter, and four-legged children—all of which think they are people too.

A pop culture junkie, she has been known to have entire conversations in movie quotes and/or song lyrics.

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Title: Lavender Fields
Author: Natalina Reis
Genre: Gay Paranormal Romance
Release Date: July 15, 2017
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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One angel to bind you, one angel to save you.

Sky Heavensent, an angel of death, is charged with the collection of souls of the recently departed. Known to his peers and immediate supervisor, the archangel Gabriel, as the liability, Sky puts his heart and soul into everything he does.

When he meets Caleb Pierce, Sky is immediately smitten. The problem is Caleb is the soul he came to earth to harvest, and saving him means breaking one of the most sacred angelic directives.

Already in too deep, Sky pushes aside the consequences and follows his heart. Danger and mayhem follow, but he will do everything in his power to protect his lavender-eyed man.

“May I ask you what you are?”
Now that was a loaded and strange question. I looked like any other human. Maybe a little paler around my freckles, my blond hair streaked with more silver than in most people of my perceived age, but other than that I looked like a regular everyday human.
My eyebrow arched in question and I noticed his small pointing nod toward my back. Heavens! In the chaos of the fall, the loss of consciousness, and my general klutziness, I had forgotten to hide my wings. There they were, unfurled to their full glory, fluttering in the breeze like giant butterfly wings. Strike three for the clumsiest angel in Raphael’s crew.
“Well….” What exactly can I say— “I’m a freaking angel, deal with it”? “I was trying out my new wings for the upcoming Comic Con.” Lying shouldn’t come so easily for an angel.
Judging by the relief on everyone’s faces, I knew they believed me. All but Caleb, who was boring into my soul with those eyes.
“I don’t believe it,” he whispered for my ears only. I blinked and looked around, but the other men were moving away already, relaxed in the knowledge that I was just a regular geeky human.
 “Well, it’s true,” I said, my lie weighing heavily on my conscience. An angel should never lie. Ever. But this was for a good cause. I couldn’t out a whole race of creatures because I couldn’t keep my flying speed under control, could I?
He pulled me aside, our backs—and now my retracted wings—to the others. “You’re an angel.” It was not a question. “I’ve seen one of your kind before.”
So I wasn’t the only clumsy angel in the realm. That was oddly comforting.
“What about you?” I asked, scanning his face for an answer. “Who has eyes like that?”
Caleb smiled. He had the sunniest smile I had ever seen. Something stirred inside of me. “Heterochromia. It runs in the family,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Just a birth defect.”
We sat down on a big rock, facing the ocean. “More like a gift,” I said before I could stop myself. Why was I trying to impress this human with my silvery tongue? I had never been too flirty or too into the dating scene among my kind or humankind; as an angel, my proverbial plate was pretty full already with all my chores and responsibilities. Of course, we did get free time that theoretically could be used for romance, but I would have to stop making so many mistakes. My free time was spent mostly fixing my mess-ups, leaving very little time for fun.
The striking young man blushed at my comment, and my angel heart fluttered. How sweet was that?
“Is it hard?” he asked, his hand shyly inching toward mine on the rock between us. “To be an angel, I mean? What do you do exactly?”
“It’s hard only when you’re the biggest klutz in the history of Heaven like I am,” I said, laughing and breaching the space between our hands. His was warm and soft underneath mine. Little electric shocks started with the contact and crawled up my arm. I had forgotten how nice this was.

Author of We Will Always Have the Closet, Desert Jewel, and Loved You Always, Natalina wrote her first romance in collaboration with her best friend at the age of 13. Since then she has ventured into other genres, but romance is first and foremost in almost everything she writes.

After earning a degree in tourism and foreign languages, she worked as a tourist guide in her native Portugal for a short time before moving to the United States. She li

ved in three continents and a few islands, and her knack for languages and linguistics led her to a master’s degree in education. She lives in Virginia where she has taught English as a Second Language to elementary school children for more years than she cares to admit.

Natalina doesn’t believe you can have too many books or too much coffee. Art and dance make her happy and she is pretty sure she could survive on lobster and bananas alone. When she is not writing or stressing over lesson plans, she shares her life with her husband and two adult sons.