COVER REVEAL
Photograph by Christopher Correia from CJC Photography
Cover Model: Jonny Sobel
Cover Model: Alli Theresa
Cover designer: Rebecca Pau from The Final Wrap
Caden
I knew she was the one the moment I laid eyes on her.
She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I never dreamed of finding her in my hometown. Savannah Owens seems lost and wants to find a place where she feels as if she belongs. What she doesn’t realize is she’s already found it. When I uncover a long buried secret, I know it’ll change everything Savannah and I have. Secrets never stay hidden, and once the truth about Savannah’s past is revealed, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her and make her mine forever.
Savannah
All I’ve ever wanted was to find a place where I belong.
A place that I actually fit in and don’t feel like an outsider. When I met Caden Harlow, I thought I found my home. He’s everything I need to make my life seem almost perfect. No matter how much I try to stay away, something always pulls me back to him. But the urge to get the answers I’ve longed for, outweighs my feelings for him. I have to find the truth, if only to put an end to my insecurity of never being wanted and truly loved.
*** This can be read as a standalone. *** 
   
   
Book #1: Carter
The Harlow Brothers Series (Standalone)
Carter
She was the one for me. The one that I knew would be mine forever until I made the biggest mistake. I pushed her away and I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I’ve tried to move on, tried to put the memory of her behind me, but she’s always consuming my thoughts. Now, she’s back in our hometown, trying to rebuild a new life. I know she’s keeping secrets. She tries to hide them from me, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that I’m the one she needs. Because Shelby Ross is the other part of me that I can’t live without and I refuse to let her go again. Shelby He broke my heart. I never thought I would be able to pick of the pieces he left behind. When he let me go, I ran away from it all, thinking it was the easiest thing to do. But, running has a price and I’ve paid it in full for years. Now, I’m back where it all began, back to putting my life together and starting over. It should’ve been easy, but Carter Harlow is reawakening long buried emotions that I thought were gone. He wants to make me his again. I can’t let that happen. He ruined me, broke me, and I’m afraid I’ll never survive it a second time around.
Brie Paisley is a small town gal from Mississippi. She always wanted to write at a young age and was always filling journals with her thoughts and short stories. Brie started with the idea of Worshipped a year ago and with the encouragement of her husband and sister in law, she was able to write her first book. When she is not writing, you can find her reading a good book, painting, scrapbooking, or watching a good movie with her husband and her boxer.
   
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That one word has never meant so much. JANA Ballet was my life, but after getting injured that dream faded. I still needed fast money, so I sucked up my pride and decided to strip. All clubs could use a virgin stripper, right? But from the moment I saw Cole Savage, owner of the strip club I was trying to get into, all rational thought left me. He was dark and dangerous, and his personality screamed arrogance. I wanted him, and by the way he looked at me I knew he wanted me as well. But I should keep it strictly business, right? COLE From the moment I first saw Jana I wanted her. She needed a job at my club, but the possessive side of me rose up demanding she was only mine. I might have just met her, but I was already so damn territorial of her. If she wanted a job I’d give her one, but she’d be keeping her clothes on. I’ve been celibate for years, but it’s time to change that with her. Jana would soon realize what it meant to be mine. *Warning: This is a short story featuring an over-the-top possessive hero who makes no secret that the heroine his. It’s got dirty dancing, raunchy scenes, but is safe and has a Happily Ever After that comes with reading a Real Man story. 
My cock was harder than I ever remembered it being, and the images of pushing her panties aside and shoving my dick inside of her played through my mind on repeat.
“I need you,” I said harshly, my voice nothing more than this guttural sound. She didn’t tell me to stop, didn’t try to get out of my arms. In fact, she had her hands in my shirt at my back, holding on to me, keeping me close. Once I was off the stage and standing back where my chair was, I put her on the ground and immediately cupped her cheek. “I could watch you all fucking night, baby, but I’m so hard for you.” And before I knew what the hell she was doing, she slipped her hand down the front of my pants and pressed her open palm over my cock. The arousal in me was so intense I nearly came. She was breathing hard, fast, and I knew she was right here with me, knew she was ready for me. But I wanted to hear her say it, wanted her to tell me the words. I tipped her chin back, made her look in my eyes, and said, “Tell me what you want.”
My cock was harder than I ever remembered it being, and the images of pushing her panties aside and shoving my dick inside of her played through my mind on repeat.
“I need you,” I said harshly, my voice nothing more than this guttural sound. She didn’t tell me to stop, didn’t try to get out of my arms. In fact, she had her hands in my shirt at my back, holding on to me, keeping me close. Once I was off the stage and standing back where my chair was, I put her on the ground and immediately cupped her cheek. “I could watch you all fucking night, baby, but I’m so hard for you.” And before I knew what the hell she was doing, she slipped her hand down the front of my pants and pressed her open palm over my cock. The arousal in me was so intense I nearly came. She was breathing hard, fast, and I knew she was right here with me, knew she was ready for me. But I wanted to hear her say it, wanted her to tell me the words. I tipped her chin back, made her look in my eyes, and said, “Tell me what you want.” She took long seconds to answer, but when she did, I saw her pupils dilate and smelled her desire saturate the air. “I want you to be my first. I want you to own my virginity, Cole.” I groaned, not able to help it, not able to even try and stop myself. “I need to fuck you.” I couldn’t help but stare at her chest, at the way her breasts rose and fell, her cleavage showing over the hem of her bra. “Take off the bra, baby. Let me see you. Let me make you feel even better.” Her throat worked as she swallowed, and before I had to tell her again, she was removing the bra, showing me how hard her nipples were and how flushed her skin was. “The panties, Jana. Get rid of the fucking panties.” And like a good girl, she was pushing her panties down her thighs. 
Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author that lives in the northwest with her husband and their two daughters. Before she started writing full-time she worked as a nurse.
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Title: He Lived Next Door
Author: Portia Moore
Release Date: May 31st 2017
http://bit.ly/2pf7svC
There are ugly truths
and pretty lies.
When I lost them
I chose neither.
I wrapped myself in silence.
My husband, my best friend, became a stranger who gave up.
Then....
He moved next door, and everything changed.
You think you know this story,
but you don't.
Be careful what you ask for because the answer may not come the way you think.
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2pqy7Xu
Universal Link: http://books2read.com/u/bw8Jkv
Prologue
Bryce
Five Years Ago
I knew I was in love with her the second I heard her voice.
It was meant to be. Fate that Jax left his book at our apartment and I felt like not being a jerk-off and brought it to him, fate that I arrived early to his class and stepped in the lecture hall out of boredom, and fate that I came in at the exact right time to hear her words. Words I’d replay in my mind well after today.
“You can’t know someone’s story without reading the pages of their book.â€
They were so simple, but they imprinted on my thoughts. Her voice replayed in my mind even when I wanted to shake her from it.
It was a moment.
The moment, the slice of time in life, when you know, its existence will change the course of every moment after.
I stay the rest of the class. I want her to speak again. I’m anxious as others ask questions and the professor drones on, everything that comes after is unimportant, and each person that speaks does so with words that aren’t as eloquent as hers; their voices aren’t as beautiful. I’m about to risk looking like a crazy stalker and walking right down to where she is when the professor ends class. When Jax comes out I corner him and ask him about her. He looks at me as if I’m crazy, so I run toward the crowd of students leaving his classroom. He grabs my arm to stop me.
“I heard her say it in your class and you don’t know who she is, so I have to find her,†I tell him manically.
He lets out a frustrated groan because he knows I’ve gone from zero to a hundred. That doesn’t happen often, but when it does, that’s it. I’d run through a wall. We’ve been best friends since our sophomore year of high school, so he knows when there’s no stopping me and he might as well jump on board.
I hurry down the hallway, trying to catch her even though I have no clue what she looks like. The hall is flooded with students leaving their classes. I rush out the main door and stand by it, hoping she’ll be talking and I’ll recognize her voice. I search each girl’s face as they pile outside. Some smile at me and I make sure to give each one my best charming smile in case it’s her.
“You’ve lost it.†Jax chuckles, and when I don’t answer, he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have lost my mind, because you’re crazy to come to a dead stop on one of the busiest streets in Chicago—not to mention on a Monday, where even a slight stroll can get you trampled or knocked over.
“I’ve got to find whoever said that,†I tell him again.
He covers his face as I search through the crowd. “I told you I could just ask at my next class.†He sounds annoyed but slightly amused.
“No, you’ll only half-ass it.†I wave him off, and he nods in defeat.
“You didn’t even get a glimpse of what she looked like. She could be dog-faced, man.â€
I give him the middle finger and weave through the crowd of people. But the voice is gone, disappeared into a sea of conversations and street noises.
“Ugh!†I yell in frustration, gripping my head and avoiding people rushing to their next destination.
It’s a cold day here in Chicago, and being close to the lake has made the cold wind bone-chilling. That makes it worse for me, since people are not only in a hurry to get where they’re going, but to get off the street to somewhere warm. Panic creeps up my chest. What if I never find her? It’ll drive me crazy.
“I’ve got to find her,†I tell Jax again, feeling anxiousness course through me. I look around and spot a mailbox and newspaper box. I slither through the crowd and climb on top of it. “Attention, everyone, attention, please! In…â€
I turn to Jax and ask his professor’s name. He tells me, begrudgingly.
“In Professor Garrison’s class, who said, ‘You can’t know someone’s story without reading the pages of their book’?â€
Of course no one says anything.
“You can’t know someone’s story without reading the pages of their book!†I yell again.
I get a couple of glances and giggles from the crowd, but most people keep walking. People in downtown Chicago are accustomed to outrageous, outlandish behavior, and most don’t pay me any attention. I shout it again, and soon Jax is shouting it with me. Even if he is shaking his head in disdain, he’s used to my ridiculousness, and what’s a friendship if you can’t be ridiculous together?
“If you said that, I have to talk to you,†I shout, and I sound desperate even to myself but I don’t care, I have to know her.
We shout together, this time garnering more attention. After about five minutes, I look at Jax, whose face is red from the cold. I begrudgingly get down off the mailbox.
“We’re done, Jax,†I tell him.
He looks completely relieved. “What were we just acting like two maniacs for?â€
“You know me. I’m an idiot sometimes.†I sigh in defeat.
“Uhm, I think you guys were looking for me maybe?â€
It’s the voice! My blood warms up, but I hesitate, because I’m almost afraid to see who said it, whose voice grabbed my heart and didn’t let go. Am I really ready to hand it over to someone? I haven’t even let a girl borrow it, but this girl stole it and had it in her keeping before I’d even seen her face. Jax is facing her already and his eyebrows are raised, his smile big and goofy as it always is when he sees a cute girl, and I know she’s not a ‘dog-face’.
“This guy here, actually,†he says begrudgingly, patting my shoulder.
I take a deep breath and turn around. My heart slams against my rib cage. She’s beautiful, totally and completely. Her cheeks and nose are red, but the rest of her skin is flawless, not one blemish. Long blond hair pours from underneath her hood. Her eyes are big and bright and the color of honey, and her lips are exactly how I imagined them, perfect, plumped and curved into a grin. Next to her is an older woman who has to be her mother. They have the exact same eyes, and her mother’s hair is just a tad darker. She looks annoyed and skeptical, her gaze darting between Jax and me.
“Say something, Romeo,†Jax says in my ear before giving me a hard elbow to my ribs.
“You, you said that, what I was yelling earlier?†I ask even though I know it was her.
She nods nervously. Her pink lips have a gloss over them and they’re pursed, lips I imagine kissing a thousand times. There’s a hint of a smile on them, and I’m praying she doesn’t smile fully because it might stop my heart.
“What do you gentlemen want?†her mom chimes in. She sounds completely irritated and that should scare me out of what I’m about to say next, but it doesn’t.
“I-I had to know whose voice said those words because I fell in love with it.†I feel her mother scowling at me, but it doesn’t matter. She smiles, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Our eyes lock, and she stares into mine, studying me. I want to be her open book.
“Do you guys want money? Is that what this is about? Because there are much easier ways,†her mother interjects angrily.
“We don’t want any money, ma’am. If we were paid to do this, I’d have made sure he came up with a much better line.†Jax is trying to lighten the mood using his easygoing charm, but I don’t even know if it’s working because all I see is her.
She glances at Jax briefly before her eyes return to mine.
“I’m Chassidy.â€
She stretches her hand out and I take it, gripping it in both of mine. I feel it, what my dad said I’d feel when I met the one. It’s a culmination of excitement, euphoria, and fear all wrapped up in one, traveling to every part of my body, making me light and dizzy.
“You have to let me take you out,†I say, realizing how desperate I sound.
“What if she’s married, young man?†her mom asks.
My heart drops. Why wouldn’t she be married? She’s beautiful and smart. She looks about twenty, but still, I know it’s possible.
“Then my heart would be broken.â€
She rolls her eyes, but Chassidy squeezes my hand.
“I’m not married.â€
With her words, my face breaks into one of the biggest smiles I’ve ever experienced. She blushes, her skin turning the color her nose and cheeks are from the cold. I want to make her blush like that every day.
“Let me take you out,†I say.
She’s smiling, but I can tell she’s still skeptical.
“Anywhere you want, whenever you want. You can even bring your mom,†I say, gripping her hand tighter, and she laughs.
“You bet I’d be there if she considered going anywhere with some man she met off the street, even if he does look like you.â€
She has a special sort of talent to make a compliment sound like an insult.
“Mom,†Chassidy says tightly, her smile disappearing into a hard frown.
“I can vouch that he’s not crazy… even though he has a tendency to do crazy things,†Jax adds.
“What’s your name, Prince Charming?†Chassidy asks. The rough tone she used with her mother is gone, back to the voice that caused all of this calamity.
“Bryce, but you can call me whatever you want,†I tell her, finally letting her hand go.
“Bryce what?†her mom asks pointedly.
“Daniels, ma’am,†I tell her mother, whose eyes look as if they’re going to set me on fire. It’s surreal how much they look alike but how hard and angry her mom seems compared to her daughter.
“Just exchange numbers so we can get out of this Godforsaken weather,†her mom demands.
I frantically search for my phone, and Jackson hands me his. She tells me her number, and I put it in his phone and call it, and hers lights up. As soon as it does, her mother takes her arm and starts to pull her away.
“It was nice meeting you Bryce,†she says over her shoulder, throwing me a smile I’ll never forget.
“You better have been worth this,†her mom snaps at us before they join the herd of people.
“What the hell was that?†Jackson asks.
I just smile, staring at her number in his phone. “That was my future wife.â€
I'm obsessed with blowing kisses. I guess that makes me a romantic. I love books and cute boys and reading about cute boys in books. I'm infatuated with the glamour girls of the past: Audrey, Dorothy, Marilyn & Elizabeth.
I'm a self-confessed girly girl, book nerd, food enthusiast, and comic book fan. Odd combination huh, you have no idea...
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Portiaspartyposse/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/portiamoorewrites/
Website: https://www.portiamoore.com
Title: Destroyed
Series: Steel Country #2
Author: MJ Fields
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 
Beaten. Broken. Battered.
Garrett Falcon's past, present, and future are fragmented pieces of the life he once dreamed of.
Deceits. Damned. Doomed.
Raised by a dealer and addict, Julianne Torres was born into a life she desperately dreamed to one day escape.
Two people who have lost hope. Two people who have been dealt blow by blow in their lives.
What happens when these two are forced together after years of lies that connected them but also kept them apart? Their hearts get ...
Destroyed.
 
      
Obsessive Reading Disorder “Lots of heavy material in this one. Some violence. Super steamy s3x. And best of all, some great humor.” Goodreads Review from Theresa “Destroyed is a true gem of a story and there aren't enough stars to give this story.” Between The Lines Book Blog “Once again, MJ Fields brings to life an incredibly beautiful, emotional and heartfelt story that leaves you aching for more.” 
  
 
 
USA Today bestselling author MJ Fields write books that scorch pages and melt hearts.
Her style is raw, gritty and authentic.
Love an alpha and a strong heroine? She does too.
       
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Title: Scarred
Series: Ruthless Rebels MC #3
Author: Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: May 19, 2017
 Whitton ‘Skinny’ Thorne– scarred skin only covers a beautiful soul.
Bitter with a capital B.
Life has been hell from the beginning when Whitton was burned as an infant, yet as much as he pushes me away I’m always coming back for more.
When I finally let go, he wants to let me in, how do I survive when we’ve both been scarred?
***Each book in the Ruthless Rebels MC is a new couple, but are best read in order. This is a biker book so please expect violence, foul language, and sexual situations. Do not buy if any of this offends you.***
 
USA Today Bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She is a wife and mom chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond, she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.
 Ryan Michele found her passion in making fictional characters come to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible and has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.
She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and many more romances. And whether it’s bikers, wolf shifters, mafia, or beyond, Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.
When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.
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Title: Ruckus
Series: Sinners of Saint #2
Author: L.J. Shen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 26, 2017
"This series is one of the best I've read all year" - Angie, Angie's Dreamy Reads "LJ Shen delivers and then some. I am loving this series." - Kylie Scott New York Times Bestseller "It's unpredictable, raw, emotional, and edgy- pure chaos contained in a beautiful package." - TJ Loves Books "LJ Shen just wrote her best love story ever!" - DD's Boom Room 
Rosie
They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They're right.
No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking.
He is my forbidden, shiny apple.
The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth.
He is also my sister's ex-boyfriend.
One thing you should know before you judge me;
I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.
Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance.
Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. My white knight has finally arrived. Hopefully, he isn’t too late.
Dean
They say the brightest stars burn out the fastest. They’re right.
She sets my mind on fire.
All smart mouth, snarky attitude and a huge heart.
In a world where everything is dull, she shines like fucking Sirius.
Eleven years ago, fate tore us apart.
This time, I fucking dare it to try.
Getting to her is a battlefield, but man, that’s why they call me Ruckus.
Rosie LeBlanc is about to find out how hard I can fight.
And conquering her will be the sweetest victory.
 
 L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams. Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.) She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.
 
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Sienna Taylor walked into Mad Ink looking for a temporary escape. Instead, she found River Madden, the gorgeously talented and impossibly moody owner of the shop. One look in her big, dark eyes makes him desperate to possess her, his need to mark her untouched skin a primal distraction.
One touch of his needle sends electricity rocketing between them, and by the time he's finished leaving his brand on her, he's doing the unthinkable and offering her a job—and possibly losing his sense of sanity. Finding forever is the last thing on River's mind, but one taste of her sweet innocence has him consumed with claiming her. She's too innocent, too sweet, too untouchable, and far too good for him. But she has a darkness that claws at her, a crack fracturing her heart that only makes him crave her more. Warning: From the moment his tattoo gun touches her skin, River is utterly obsessed with his girl. If over-the-top, insta-love goodness with a moody, tattooed alpha is your cup of steam, look no further! River has a talent for pushing all the right buttons. ;) 
ONE
River “So, my hands are in her hair, and I’m fucking close, man. I don’t know what I did to the bitch to make her pull the teeth out, but no shit, I think I almost lost my dick last night.” The sound of a feminine someone clearing her voice turned both of our heads. Jericho shot up, hand outstretched and that weird half smile he only did for chicks he wanted to bang curling his face. The guy was a fucking whore, and if I had to live through another one of his one-night stands rehashed, I’d throw my fist through his teeth. I’d already thought about breaking a finger, but fucker needed them if he was going to permanently lay artwork on someone’s body, and the guy had talent. I’d hired him when he got to page three of his portfolio—a portrait of a someone’s grandpa in a war uniform inked on the client’s bicep. The fucking most beautiful tattoo I’d ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have Jericho in my shop. Just a goddamn shame I had to put up with him every day. “She’s a sweet one.” Jericho turned and winked. “And she’s looking for you. Told her I had more talented fingers, but she wasn’t buying it.” I arched an eyebrow, irritation pulsing through my gut before I stood, plastering on a blank face for my new client. I lived for tattooing and creating art. What I didn’t love was dealing with customers. Constantly. It was hard being an artist and not being able to control exactly how you would create on a canvas, since the canvas tended to belong to another human. I’d learned to put on a reserved face over the years—I wasn’t one of those guys who chatted your goddamned ear off. I didn’t give two fucks about your life story or why this tattoo finally meant so much. In fact, half the struggle I’d had in the two years since I’d opened Aspen Ink was tuning out the dimwits so I could focus long enough to give them what they came for—a permanent piece of art on their skin. Jericho and Dev busted my balls about my shitty chairside personality in the beginning, but it turns out customers don't give a shit about manners when you leave them with something they can't get anywhere else on their arm. I had plenty of repeat customers and was usually booked out months in advance. As a result, most of the clients I already knew, so the fact that I didn’t recognize the name on my schedule today had been a little odd, though not unheard of. I pulled out a set of clean tools, giving a last glance over my sterile work area before heading to the front counter. A small little thing, with golden blond hair cascading down to a tiny nipped-in waist, was waiting for me at the front desk. I frowned. “Hi, I’m River Madden.” I came around the counter, touching her elbow. She spun, that silky mass of waves brushing across my forearm and sending zaps of fire through my skin. “I’m Sienna.” Indigo blue eyes nailed mine. I shifted on my feet, throat already dry before I hooked a finger over my shoulder. “Follow me.” Red lips pursed for a second, eyes narrowing before she nodded swiftly. I gnashed down on my teeth, figuring I knew exactly what I was in for with this one. “Let me guess, cute little elephant tattoo on your ankle?” I held a hand out, gesturing for her to sit in my tattoo chair. “Not quite.” She plopped down, eyes connecting with mine again. Fuck, what was it about those eyes? Like she couldn't keep herself from looking at me, staring into my soul or some shit. Weird as fuck and I hated every minute of it. “Quote under your tit? That what the girls are getting these days, right?” “I’m not a girl.” She crossed her arms. She certainly wasn’t. She might be small, but that fire burning in those ocean irises told me she wouldn’t hesitate to give a man hell. Fuck, why did that kinda make me smile? “Well, safe to assume this is your first tattoo?” My eyes landed on her short denim cutoffs then crawled up her body to the long sleeves that covered her arms. This girl was A-1 vanilla, no doubt about it. I was good at reading people, and this one was just too sweet to have seen anything resembling a hard life. “You know what they say about people who assume, right?” Her grin crooked to the side. “You make an ass—” she rolled up one sleeve, revealing dark slashes of purple and black ink “—out of mostly…you.” “Impressive.” I moved closer. “I pegged you for a virgin.” I felt a shiver race through her when I cupped her arm in my palm, inspecting the work. “Where’d you go for this?” “A few towns over. Got it a few months ago.” She pulled up her other sleeve, inked vines wrapping up her forearms to her elbow. “And this was my first, the day I turned eighteen.” “Fair to say I am an ass, then.” I was unable to help the small smile pulling at my lips. “So, what’s the plan for today?” She pulled the hem of her shirt above her head, luscious flesh revealed to my greedy fucking eyes. Christ, she was beautiful. Creamy, soft, unmarred flesh. My vision swam with thoughts of inking her body, watching her squirm under my hands, sinking balls deep into the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen… “I want to cover this.” She pulled her shirt up past her ribs, a thick white slash, about two inches long, covering her side. The rough pads of my fingers dragged across the raised flesh, and a soft sigh pushed past her lips before our eyes met again. “What you got in mind for it?” “A heart,” she said simply. “Shattered.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this request, but something about the way she put those two words together sliced me open. I was wrong about her. This girl had darkness behind her pretty blue eyes. “Got a picture?” “Do you one better.” She slipped a folded scrap of paper from the back pocket of her shorts. “I want this.” I unfolded the sheet, surprised to find a bloodied red heart inked faintly with the outlines of a skull. “This is pretty badass.” “I thought so too.” She shrugged, smiling proudly before lying back on my chair. She stretched her arms above her head, the shirt riding up higher and revealing a hint of neon green bra against her creamy skin. “Hate to ask, but I need to see an ID.” She arched one sassy eyebrow before her lips curled up. “Does that mean you don't think I look eighteen?” The way she said it made my cock fucking pound behind my zipper. Whatever in the hell had brought this woman into my studio today, I owed a huge debt of gratitude. I’d been inking people in this very chair for over two years now and never gave any fucks about my canvas. Until her. Until now. I frowned, confused by the way she sucked me in, before I grunted. “I’ll get this sketched for you. Need to see an ID when I get back.” I shot out of the chair and stalked to the light station as far away from her as I could get. I didn’t have time for a saucy little girl running through my shop, making my dick hard, and causing me to think all kinds of nasty thoughts. Like what it would be like to bend her over my table. Or fuck her in the piercing room. Shit. Did she have any piercings? I’d be a fucking dead man if she did. Just the idea of little metal barbells piercing her nipples had a ripple of pain coursing through my balls. I hunched over the drawing table, adjusting my cock, as I started the outline for her tattoo. I caught glimpses of her watching me work, her eyes crawling around my shop and over me as I took my time designing her tattoo. She didn’t flip through her phone once, which surprised the fuck out of me because girls her age had it fucking glued to their palm. That shit wasn’t good for your mind, and if I didn't have to own a cell to stay in touch for the sake of my business, I wouldn’t own one. Worst goddamn invention on the planet, that little mini-computer sitting in everyone’s pocket. “That looks incredible.” She breathed against my neck. Fuck. She was too close for comfort. “Wait, what if we add a few stitches across the crack? Just black slashes, like someone did a rushed job fixing it.” I frowned as I thought, imagining the final piece in my head before coming around to the idea. “I think that would highlight the skeleton shaded into the background. Good call.” I added a few random stitches to the center of the heart, across the skull of the skeleton. “I love it,” she whispered, her palms sliding down my forearms and squeezing tightly. Her touch was like razor blades against my skin. I wasn’t sure if I loved it or wanted to wrench my arm away. It’d been so fucking long since I’d let anyone touch me like this. And now this girl was not only all up in my personal space, but in my head too. “Great. Lie down on the table, and we’ll get you prepped.” I tried to keep my voice clipped and to the point, my only focus on being professional despite the raging hard dick tenting my pants. I helped her up onto the table, avoiding the gorgeous view of her ass as she turned around. Her shorts were so fucking short I was sure I could catch a glimpse of her pussy if I looked hard enough. Why the fuck was she out in public wearing that shit? Didn’t she know what disgusting men like me thought of her? “Got that ID?” I grinned down at her. “Here you go, Daddy-o.” She flipped me her driver’s license, confirming she was of age. Nineteen. So, barely. “Looks good.” “Told you it would,” she sassed back. Goose bumps rippled across her skin when I applied the cool sanitizer to her rib cage. Then I placed the stencil I’d drawn into place, the crack in the heart matching the jagged edges of the scar slashed permanently into her flesh. I had a mind to trace my tongue along the rough edges, listening to her shudder and come around me as I milked all the pleasure from her body. I slipped my fingers along the edges of the transfer paper, making sure the ink outline deposited onto her skin. She shuddered when my fingertip drifted across her wrist. Fuck, she was so sensitive. I had visions of her spread out beneath me, my hands in her hair, my tongue licking up her silky skin. The thought of burying my head between her legs had blood rushing through my cock. What the hell was that scent? And sweet fucking lord, did she taste that good too? No. Better. Probably better. I shifted in my chair, and her eyes averted to me before the shadow of her eyelashes fell onto her cheeks. The air vacated my lungs, blood raging through my veins and making my heart pound a tattoo against my ribs. My cock throbbed, aching to push inside her, fuck her until she was breathless and begging. Christ, what the hell was wrong with me? Jericho had given me hell about living like a damn monk, but I’d never reacted to a woman this way. But this wasn’t just any woman; this was Sienna fucking Taylor, too young, too innocent, too good. Way too good. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be.” She spoke up, and I nearly choked. “Excuse me?” Her eyes flickered up to me, a smirk turning up those succulent lips. “The tattoo, it’s big.” “Ah, right.” I cleared my throat, peeling off the transfer paper and focusing on her eyes for the first time since she’d sat down. “I don’t think I could make it much smaller. You'd start to lose detail on the skeleton.” “Oh, I like it. I just didn’t envision it that big, but I’m ready. I want it.” Her big, round eyes peered up at me, sweet, untouched. Heartbreakingly fucking beautiful. I turned, opening the black ink and placing it at the table beside me. “Think you can handle the pain? This is gonna take me a while.” Her eyes sparkled. “Bet I can handle more than you think.” Jesus. Who was this girl? 
Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.
Aria's new release BLACK is the first in her modern fairy tale series. For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she's writing next!
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Prison.
The place where dreams fade and hope dies. That’s what it’s meant for the five years that Garrett has been behind bars. But now hope is on the horizon and he’s daring to dream again: small dreams, small hopes. Getting his GED would be a start. If only his prison-appointed teacher Miss Ella Newsome wasn’t so damn sexy. As Garrett and Ella start to play a dangerous game, the price could be higher than either of them have guessed. This story first appeared in the anthology HOT FOR TEACHER in 2016. It has since been extended with new scenes, more heartache and even more heat. 
At the end of a long, exasperating day where nothing seemed to go as I wanted, I was happy to shake Nottoway dust from my shoes and head out for a drink with my best friend Becky.
“How’s it going in stir, sista?” she asked in her best Orange is the New Black impression. “Fine,” I mumbled. “Fine as in I-broke-both-my-legs-but-don’t-worry-about-me fine, or fine as in today-sucked-ass-and-I’m-feeling-sorry-for-myself?” “Probably the latter,” I said, unable to stop a tired smile appearing on my face. “Come tell Aunty Becky all about it, but not before you’ve had at least one Mimosa.” “Honestly, I don’t really feel like drinking. I’ll just get all weepy and mopey.” She shook her head and pushed a glass toward me. “So get weepy and mopey. How’s it going with Mr. Hottie-con?” “He’s … doing well. He makes a great teacher’s aide—better than I could have hoped. The other prisoners go to him in between classes. They’re all making so much progress.” “That’s good then.” “Yes.” “And?” “And nothing.” “So, you’re not fantasizing about the length of his … parole?” “Becky!” “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re totally crushing on your jailbird boy toy.” “He’s 30. And he’s not my boy toy.” “But you’d like him to be?” I took a slug of Mimosa, tossing it back like I was doing shots. Then my head dropped to my hands and I let out a groan. “Oh my God, Becky! He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever met. Handsome, sexy, total brooding bad boy. But sweet, too. How can an ex-thief be sweet? And I don’t even know if he’s an ex-thief—not really. And when he looks at me, all dark and intense … and I haven’t had a boyfriend since Nathan. I haven’t even had a date. And now my B.O.B. needs new batteries.” She choked on her drink then burst out laughing. “There’s no harm in having a little down time thinking about doing the nasty with a hot felon. As long as that’s all it is.” I sighed. Becky knew me too well. “I like him.” She screwed her eyes shut. “Oh glory, I was afraid of that. You’re so predictable, El. You see something broken and you want to fix it. It’s admirable in the right circumstances, but this isn’t one of them.” “I know. I know you’re right, but it’s chemistry, or magnetism, or pheromones, or…” “Lust?” I looked down at the drink in my hands. “Honey, the guy is hot and off-limits and the original bad boy. Of course you’re lusting after him. Just promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.” “As if!” I huffed. “Hmm, well, tell me this. If he was paroled tomorrow, would you date him? Introduce him to me? To the rest of your friends? Would you take him home to meet your parents? Can you honestly see a future with an ex-con?” I shook my head. “I’m his teacher. Nothing is going to happen.” But the truth was, it already had. I was falling for Prisoner 97813. It was reckless and stupid, maybe even dangerous. And I couldn’t stop myself. This story first appeared in the anthology HOT FOR TEACHER in 2016. It has since been extended with new scenes, more heartache and even more heat. 
Jane is a writer of contemporary romance fiction, known for thoughtful stories, often touching on difficult subjects: disability (DANGEROUS TO KNOW & LOVE, SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM); mental illness (THE EDUCATION OF CAROLINE, SEMPER FI); life after prison (LIFERS); dyslexia (THE TRAVELING MAN, THE TRAVELING WOMAN).
She is also a campaigner for former military personnel to receive the support they need on leaving the services. She wrote the well-received play LATER, AFTER with former veteran Mike Speirs. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hk1CyB8c0xA )
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Coming June 5th
When Mackenzie meets Carter, it’s love at first sight. They have a blissful year together before trouble arrives. In the form of Carter’s two teenage sons.
When Hunter and Carey decide they want to live with their father in California, Mackenzie knows right away that she’s in for a tough time. And she couldn’t be more right. The two boys show her on a daily basis that she’s not good enough for their dad. In fact, they make it quite clear their lives would be better without her. But could it be that Hunter has quite a different motive for hating her? 
ONE
Mackenzie I first met Carter on a Friday. I was standing talking to someone when he came in, and it was like every atom in the room was immediately drawn in his direction. The oxygen, the people, even the flowers turned their heads to look at him. His presence was so powerful I couldn’t help stepping a little closer. When his eyes met mine, an electric shock went through my body. I was literally glowing, and in that fraction of a second, I imagined what it would be like to be his woman. And then… Nothing. His eyes moved on to the next object, not even acknowledging my presence, leaving me absolutely crushed. I wasn’t worth a second look. Swallowing hard, I watched him walk over to Brittany, who had been in charge of interior design at his new company headquarters. I’d had nothing to do with the project—I was just here to support my best friend on what was going be a big evening for her. And I had never felt as much contempt for anybody as I felt for her in that particular moment. Even though I loved her to pieces. Carter Tilman, head of Tilman Finance Group, had occupied the number-one spot on our girls’ talk agendas the past few weeks. God, was he handsome, Brittany had told me so many times I’d started rolling my eyes at her. But now I saw him in the flesh. He was blond and blue-eyed, about six-foot-two and, from what I could see under his suit, well built. The perfect combination of sleek and edgy, he immediately made me imagine him being a somewhat less-than-perfect gentleman in private quarters. But there he was, talking to Brittany! Not even giving me a second of his attention. I kept watching him, inconspicuously following him around, trying to be near him. But not once did I manage to capture his attention. It made me feel small and insignificant. In his world, I didn’t even exist. Just before midnight, Brittany signaled to me that she was done. With a slight sense of regret, I left. After all, there was no reason for me to stay. It would just make me sad. Outside, I said goodbye to Brittany and her colleagues before walking over to my car. I was just about to open the door when somebody behind me said, “I was hoping to be introduced to you.” Every molecule of my body strained toward him, but I didn’t want to make a complete fool of myself, so I made a point of turning around slowly. “Really?” I asked, feigning disinterest. He came closer, nodding. “You’re stunning. I just have to kiss you.” And kiss me, he did. Our first kiss, which led to many others. Our first encounter, which turned into hundreds. Two lives fused into one. Which leads me to the here and now, almost one year later. “Are you excited?” he asks. I nod, kneading my fingers. “Oh boy, am I excited,” I say in a strangled voice. He laughs, quietly stroking my cheek. “Just don’t show any fear. They’re like predators. They can sense it.” “Please tell me you’re joking!” “I’m sure they’ll like you.” “They” are his sons. Hunter and Carey. Ages seventeen and fifteen. I haven’t met them before because they live with their mother in Miami. But they’re coming to spend the summer with their dad in San Diego. And here I am. I can’t escape the inevitable, even though it scares the living daylights out of me. Seriously, I’ve never been this nervous, not even during finals week in college. “Relax, sweetheart,” Carter says, reaching for my hand. He runs his fingers across my knuckles soothingly. I look at him, trying to smile. It isn’t usually difficult, but today I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m meeting his sons. His teenage sons. I’m not even that much older than them… I’m twenty-five, and Carter is forty-three. Our age difference has never been a problem before, and people say age is just a number, but, come on—this just seems like a recipe for disaster. “Here they are,” he says, pointing. Two tall boys who look a lot like Carter—and totally different at the same time—are walking across the baggage claim toward us. Carey, the younger one, must be nearly six feet tall. He’s blond and blue-eyed like his dad. But while his father has a distinctly manly look about him, Carey brims with the beauty and energy of youth. His skin is spotless, which I take as a personal affront, because I still get zits in my mid-twenties. Hunter is already taller than his father. He has close-cropped brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks and chin are speckled with stubble, and for such a young man, he has a very masculine aura. The girls must be all over him. It’s true what they say. The apple does not fall far from the tree. They’re both trying to appear cool, but I can tell they’re happy to see their dad. They each give him an affectionate hug, and he hugs them back happily. Carter has always seemed like a sexy bachelor to me, but seeing him with his sons is kind of cute. “Okay, boys,” he says, putting his arm around me. “This is Mackenzie. Sweetie, meet Hunter and Carey.” The boys’ bright faces darken, letting me know I don’t stand a chance. I stretch out my hand, and they do shake it, but they squeeze so hard I have to put effort into not screaming. “Nice to meet you,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. Carter seems satisfied, at least. “Let’s go home. Mackenzie and I thought it’d be fun to have a barbecue.” Carey turns his cold blue eyes away from me, defrosting them for his father. “Actually, we’re meeting up with some friends tonight, Dad.” “Oh, well, why don’t we have dinner, then you can go?” Carter suggests cheerfully. The boys seem mollified as their dad takes Carey’s bag and puts an arm around his shoulders, Hunter on his other side. They’re the perfect trio. “Are you coming, sweetie?” Carter calls over his shoulder. I follow them out of the airport, the lowly fourth wheel. Back at the car, Hunter gets in front like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Carter looks irritated for a second but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he holds the back door open for me, and I silently climb into his Mercedes SUV. Once behind the wheel, Carter is all cheer again. “What are your plans for the summer?” he asks. “Friends, beach, babes,” Carey says automatically. Hunter laughs. “In that order?” Carey shrugs. “It’s not exactly a secret you go through all three of them like candy. Especially that last one.” Carter throws his oldest a look. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was respect, but that’s impossible, right? Could a father be proud of his seventeen-year-old son’s sexual exploits? No. There must be something else behind that look. Hunter turns around to grin at his brother. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, virgin.” “TMI, thank you very much,” Carter says, and he actually sounds amused. Hunter slouches down in his seat. “I thought you’d put those condoms there on purpose so we couldn’t help but find them.” “Don’t corrupt your brother,” Carter laughs. “There’s still hope for him.” “Did you hear that?” Hunter says. “You’re the good, normal, boring brother.” “No, I’m not!” Carey leans forward to punch Hunter’s shoulder. Hunter dodges it, laughing. For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t be here. They’re acting like I’m not here, anyway. “Hey, boys, no punching,” Carter throws in. “Words are your weapons! You know the rules.” “Hunter’s too stupid to use language as a weapon,” Carey grumbles. “Stupid?” Carter repeats. “Was that report card a fake then?” Hunter grins. “No need for that, Dad. Unlike Carey, I’ve got brains and looks.” “Yeah, and your looks are shit!” Carey teases. His brother turns around, looks straight at me, and then says to his brother, “I guess you want to spend the evening with Dad then…” There’s a meaningful silence. Carey looks at me for a second as well and then makes a cut-throat gesture with his hand, as if to threaten me, “They’re my friends, too.” Hunter grins like a predator. “Be a good boy then.” Carey snorts but doesn’t say anything. I’m relieved when we get to the house—our house. Even though I know the toughest part is still ahead. Because the boys don’t know I’ve moved in with their dad. What on earth are they going to say when we tell them? It’s clear by now that they don’t hold back. And I don’t want those word-weapons trained on me… Walking up the driveway, I look at the house like I always do. It’s huge, built for a large, happy family, and once again, I feel like an intruder. This is where they all used to live as a family. And now Carter lives here with a new woman. Me. As soon as the boys get inside, they quietly claim the space around them. The house seems smaller with three big men in it. “I’ll go fire up the grill, sweetie,” Carter says when I enter the kitchen. I nod, and he gives me a hug, kissing me on the top of my head. Carey gives me a look so hostile I have to close my eyes, fighting back tears. I don’t want to show them how much they affect me. As soon as Carter leaves, Carey steps in front of me. “Are you after our money?” I give him an irritated look. “Excuse me?” “Dad’s got a lot of dough. Is that what you’re after? Why else would you be with a guy twice your age?” I’m speechless. Hunter nonchalantly leans against the fridge, not saying anything, but there’s something terrifying about the way he’s standing there all calm, his arms crossed in front of his chest. My eyes move from one brother to the other, and my mouth goes dry. “Sweetie, can you bring out the steaks?” Carter calls from outside. I swallow and glance at Hunter blocking the fridge. When I take one step toward him, he doesn’t budge. “Would you mind…” He puts on his predator’s smile. “Would I mind what?” “Moving over.” He smiles down at me. “Say please.” I want to tell him to fuck off but remind myself that he’s seventeen—and testing me. I can’t say to him what I would say to a twenty-five-year-old asshole in this situation. Pulling myself together, I give him my best unflinching look. “Would you please move over?” He steps aside. “There you go, doll.” Doll? Do not react, I tell myself. Just ignore it. “My name is Mackenzie. Or Mac.” I silently curse myself. Great job! Now he knows it bothers me, so he’s never going to stop calling me that. Flustered, I get the steaks from the fridge and take them outside. Carter smiles at me. “Hey.” He pulls me closer for a kiss. “Is everything okay?” I nod. “Yup. Just weird.” He gives me a loving smile. “I know you guys are all going to get along great. I love having my three favorite people here with me.” I snuggle up to him until he frees himself to put the meat on the grill. “Hunt?” he calls inside. “Can you set the table out here, please?” As the boys come out onto the porch with plates and cutlery, I go back to the kitchen to grab the sides I made earlier. “You haven’t answered my question,” someone says behind me, and I flinch so hard I drop the bowl in my hands. My potato salad lands on the floor, and glass shards from the bowl fly through the air. One of them hits my shin, and I stare at the red drop trickling down my leg. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Carter calls, rushing inside, alerted by the almighty crash I just made. “Yeah.” I nod a little too fast. “Just dropped a bowl. Sorry.” “No problem,” he says. He comes over, picks me up, and sets me down on the kitchen island before diligently picking up the shards and throwing the rest of the bowl in the trash. As he begins to wipe the floor up, my manners kick in. “Hey, let me do that,” I say, starting to slide off the counter. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.” He smiles at me, and a knot in my heart dissolves. Carter. He loves me. I love him. That’s what I need to remember. When he’s finished, he gets out a Band-Aid and carefully places it over the little cut on my leg. “There you go. All set. I hope Hunter didn’t burn the meat.” “I heard that,” a voice calls from outside. “Like I’d make a mistake doing something as manly as grilling meat.” Carter laughs and kisses me before we take the remaining sides outside. Once we’re all sitting at the table, Carter looks at both boys. “Weren’t you two talking about going to football camp this summer?” “It doesn’t start for three weeks,” Carey reminds him. “And we’ll only be gone a week.” “What positions do you play?” I ask, just to be part of the conversation. Truth be told, I already know Hunter plays wide receiver and Carey’s a second-string quarterback, which they proceed to politely tell me. In fact, as long as their dad’s around, they’re polite and reasonably friendly. They’re not going out of their way to make me comfortable, but it’s at least possible to talk to them. However, when Carter takes a call and disappears into the house, things change quickly. “Answer my goddamn question,” Carey snarls. Hunter just grins and leans back, crossing his arms in front of his chest again. In a few years, he’ll be a real giant. He’s already tall, and even though his muscles are pretty impressive for a teenager, I’m sure he’ll bulk up some more. Realizing I’m on my own, I look back at Carey. “You can stop asking. Because it’s none of your business.” He pulls a face. “So you are a gold digger then.” I gather up all my courage. It’s difficult to remember I’m a confident woman with Hunter staring at me like I’m some insect he’s about to crush. He somehow manages to appear both cocky and laid-back at the same time—a skill most men do not attain in this lifetime. “I-I don’t want to argue with you,” I say, trying to keep my voice from wavering. “I want to get to know you both, and get along. I’m not here to cause trouble. I love your dad.” “News flash, doll,” Carey says. “Just because you spread your legs for our dad doesn’t mean you can wrap us around your finger. Dad’s brought home a lot of women over the past three years. They all had one thing in common. You want to know what it is?” I shake my head, but I didn’t really think that was going to stop him. “They’re not here anymore.” Like I said, I didn’t want to know. “Please don’t talk to me like that.” “Like what?” Carey asks innocently. “Condescendingly.” “Hmm,” he says, like he’s mulling it over. “To be honest, I think I’m being pleasant.” He looks at Hunter like he’s waiting for instructions, but Hunter obviously doesn’t care to interfere. And I don’t know how to react. What am I supposed to say? “I’ll tell your father”? That’s a sure-fire way of ruining whatever chance I might still have at building a relationship with them. Or should I tell them—again—that I don’t want them talking to me like that? Only to have them ridicule me again… Maybe I should get up and leave. But then they’ll think they can do whatever they want with me. Fortunately, Carter returns then, but he’s wearing a frown. “That was your mom,” he tells the boys. “She wanted to know where you are.” Their expressions change immediately. Carey suddenly looks guilty, while Hunter’s face hardens. “She said she had no idea where you were,” Carter says, his voice stern. “She was worried.” Carey looks at the floor, but Hunter snorts disbelievingly. “Hunter,” Carter says, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. “Is there something you want to tell me?” Hunter looks him directly in the eye. “We want to move back to San Diego.” Carter looks stunned. “Excuse me?” he finally grinds out. “You want me to say it again?” Hunter says. Carter snorts. “Why?” Hunter rolls his eyes. “You know Mom.” “Yeah, what about her?” Hunter runs a hand through his short hair. “She’s a mean drunk. And she brings home all kinds of men. It’s like living in a goddamn brothel.” I swallow. I’d thought they couldn’t stand me because they loved their mom so much. But that’s apparently not it. They may have been treating me like dirt just a few seconds ago, but I can feel their pain now. No child should have to worry about whether a parent actually cares about them. I know that best of all. Carter runs a hand over his face. “Hunter…” “Come on, Dad! I know what you’re going to say. But we can’t stay there with Mom.” Carter nods slowly. “Actually, you don’t know what I’m going to say.” He looks over at me quickly. “Mackenzie moved in with me a few weeks ago. So, this is her home now, too. If you two want to move back in, you have to get along with her, too.” Carey gives his dad an exasperated look. “She moved in with you?” “You have a problem with that?” Carter asks, and for the first time, he sounds slightly snappy. “No,” his youngest mumbles. “Hunter?” “Anything’s better than staying in Miami,” he says. Carter nods. “Mac?” I give him a surprised look. “Yeah?” “It’s your home, too. Are you okay with them moving in?” he asks. “They’re your sons,” I say, even though I have to swallow before I finish my thought. “They’ll always be welcome here.” Deep inside, I thought it would be tough to spend ten weeks with them. But having them move in with us? It’s a whole different story. While Hunter’s about to start his last year of high school—and then he’ll be off to college or somewhere else—Carey would be with us for at least another three years. Can I do this? It very well could be three years of hell lying ahead of me. But, at this point, I’ll just have to wait and see. Carter puts a hand on my shoulder and looks over at Hunter again. “If I let you move in here, I expect you to behave better than you did in Miami.” Hunter and Carey both nod. “Promise,” they say in unison. Carter snorts. Obviously, he doesn’t believe it. “Okay, we’ll still have to see. I’ll call your mom and let her know about your decision.” “Awesome.” Hunter gets up. “Now, we’re out of here.” “Be back at midnight,” Carter says. “Dad, seriously?” Carey asks in the tone of a complete brat. “You’re fifteen,” Carter responds. “Hunter isn’t.” “So Hunter can bring you back here at midnight and stay out another hour.” “That’s totally unfair!” Carey whines. Carter gives him a firm look. “What did you just say about good behavior?” Carey gives him a sly smile. “You said better, not good.” I struggle to keep a neutral face, because inside, I’m secretly applauding Carey. Carter though isn’t so impressed. “Midnight,” he says. “Can we take the car?” Hunter asks. Carter nods. “Keys are on the table.” They’re gone within a second. “Rascals,” Carter says, sitting back down with me. He puts a hand on my leg. “Thank you, sweetie.” “It’s your house, and they’re your sons. Of course they can move in with us.” “It’s our house,” he corrects me gently. I shrug. “Still.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’ll be different.” “Sure.” He looks at me. “What’s wrong?” I’m kneading my fingers, and he zooms in on them. He knows I do this when I’m nervous, so there’s no point lying to him now. “They don’t like me,” I admit. Carter nods slowly. “Give them some time. They’ve never seen me with another woman. Only with their mom. But it’ll be okay.” I realize then that he has no idea his sons actually know about every woman he’s ever dated. “So, I guess they don’t have a great relationship with their mom?” I say, trying not to sound like I’m prodding. Carter shakes his head. “Not anymore. They always did before. But then she cheated on me, and I left. She started drinking, and… I guess sometimes they still hold me responsible for it.” I take his hand. “But it’s not your fault.” He smiles wistfully. “I know. I couldn’t stay with her. But I’m sorry my boys got hurt.” “You’re a great dad. They love and respect you.” He nods. “They’ve always been my number-one priority.” “Why did they stay with their mom?” “It’s what they wanted. Lauren was not in a good place after the divorce, and Hunter always feels like he has to take care of people. Save them. He didn’t want to leave her alone, and Carey always does what Hunter does. I’m just glad he’s somewhat of a good role model.” A faint smile flits across my lips. “So what trouble did they get into in Miami?” Carter smiles. “Oh, man, they messed up a few times. Nothing serious, though. Hunter got in a few fights with his coach and had plenty of detention. And they were at a few parties that were broken up by the police. Carey was caught drunk once. I’d say it’s all pretty normal for their age. Judging by what my friends say, it could be much worse. Some kids are really out there. Hunter might be a bit of a hothead, but he’s sensible enough to make sure Carey’s always safe.” “What if they don’t accept me?” I ask. He strokes my hand. “It’ll be fine, sweetie. Don’t give up.” I nod, even though I know I’m in for a rough ride. 
I'm a contemporary romance writer, who likes her men tattooed, her women independent and her coffee strong.
My stories are all about love, but some are of the romantic kind, some of the sad kind and others of the very steamy kind. So if you can stand drama, foul language and sex, you came to the right place. Love, Annie
Author Links
Title: Xander: The Present
Series: Rockstar Series #10
Author: Anne Mercier
Model: Nick Bennett & Stef Lambert
Photographer: Sara Eirew Photography
Designer: Sara Eirew Photography
Genre: Rockstar Romance
Release Date: June 25
It's ten years later, and we're still living separate lives. While I know she isn't comfortable with my lifestyle after everything she’s been through, I can't be without her anymore.
I need her. She's my wife. She's my heartbeat. She's my next breath. She's my everything. I want to know every detail of her life. I want to be part of it all. I want to work as hard to get there as she did to get here. She's always been my girl—even at the age of eight. As I face her now, there's no doubt she'll be mine until I draw my last breath as I will be hers. It's time for our forever to begin. 
I was born and raised in Wisconsin and still live here today.
I’m an avid reader who gets inspired by reading the stories from my favorite authors as well as listening to various types of music. I am a huge fan of music, chocolate, fruit, desserts, autumn, M. Shadows, Avenged Sevenfold, and Milo Ventimiglia. Through my books, I am proudly creating new Avenged Sevenfold and Milo Ventimiglia fans one reader at a time.
“The best part of being an author, to me, is being able to take the reader to that one place they long to go when they need to escape reality. Knowing I can do that, for even one reader, makes what I do worthwhile.” ~ Anne Mercier
Hugs and love,
Anne xoxo
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Truth or Dare (Liar Liar #2)by l. a. cotton
Genre: Mature YA
Add to Goodreads HERE
The concluding book in Becca and Evan's story is LIVE!!!
Escaping to Credence was supposed to be Becca's shot at a new life, but some secrets refuse to stay hidden, and now that the truth is out, everything changes.
Everything.
The people she thought she could trust lied. The guy she thought cared about her kept her in the dark. And with no one to turn to, Becca finds it hard to unravel the truth. When she finally does, her past and present collide in a way no one saw coming.
The truth can hurt you ... Some dares will destroy you.
BUY LINKSSTART THE SERIESBook #1: Liar Liar
only 99 cents for a limited time
TEASERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author of mature young adult and new adult novels, L A is happiest writing the kind of books she loves to read: addictive stories full of teenage angst, tension, twists and turns. Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time writer with being a mother/referee to two little people. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life. WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | AMAZON 
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My best friend is married.
Everyone I know is married. It doesn’t bother me.
I like my life the way it is. Since I’m single though, when my best friend and her husband finally decide to go on their dream honeymoon, she asks me to watch their three-year-old son.
Of course I say yes.
What my best friend neglects to tell me is that I won’t be babysitting alone.
Feeling Max might be too much for me to handle, her husband asks his only single friend to help.
Nick Carrington and I have met a couple of dozen times. I’ve never really given him a second thought—other than to say he’s kind of a jerk. Out loud. So he can hear. Sure, he’s tall, dark, and handsome. And yes, he has the best ass I’ve ever seen, and I mean ever seen quite literally. You see he mooned me at last year’s Fourth of July barbecue because, like I said, he’s a jerk.
He always has to be the life of the party.
He’s also arrogant.
Imposing.
Rich.
And a playboy.
I’d even go as far as to say he’s a manwhore.
Yet somehow before I know it, this manwhore and I are co-parenting. Living under the same roof. Eating meals together and yes, talking.
Don’t look at me like that—it’s not like I had a choice.
Even though I knew every minute would be hell, I had to say yes.
But after two weeks what I didn’t expect is that I’d been wrong about him.
That under his smart-ass exterior, he’s quite charming.
That his arrogance is actually confidence.
And that the sight of his naked body would do really bad things to me.
So yes, I’ve misjudged him. And yes, I like him. Really like him. Although there are times I still think he’s a jerk…I now think he’s a sexy jerk.
And I want more of him.
The question is--does he want more of me?
Will be available on Kindle Unlimited!
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Go to Kim Karr's Facebook Page to enter her Release Day Giveaway!
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Kim Karr is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author.
She grew up in Rochester, NY and now lives in Florida with her husband and four kids. She's always had a love for reading books and writing. Being an English major in college, she wanted to teach at the college level but that was not to be. She went on to receive an MBA and became a project manager until quitting to raise her family. Kim currently works part-time with her husband and recently decided to embrace one of her biggest passions--writing.
Kim wears a lot of hats! Writer, book-lover, wife, soccer-mom, taxi driver, and the all around go-to person of her family. However, she always finds time to read. One of her favorite family outings was taking her kids when they were little to the bookstore or the library. Today, Kim's oldest child is seventeen and no longer goes with her on these, now rare and infrequent, outings. She finds that she doesn't need to go on them anymore because she has the greatest device ever invented--a Kindle.
Kim likes to believe in soul mates, kindred spirits, true friends, and Happily-Ever-Afters. She loves to drink champagne, listen to music, and hopes to always stay young at heart.
      
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Title: Ruckus
Series: Sinners of Saint #2
Author: L.J. Shen
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 26, 2017
Rosie
They say that life is a beautiful lie and death a painful truth. They're right.
No one has ever made me feel more alive than the guy who serves as a constant reminder that my clock is ticking.
He is my forbidden, shiny apple.
The striking fallacy to my blunt, raw, truth.
He is also my sister's ex-boyfriend.
One thing you should know before you judge me;
I saw him first. I craved him first. I loved him first.
Eleven years later, he waltzed into my life, demanding a second chance.
Dean Cole wants to be my bronze horseman. My white knight has finally arrived. Hopefully, he isn’t too late.
Dean
They say the brightest stars burn out the fastest. They’re right.
She sets my mind on fire.
All smart mouth, snarky attitude and a huge heart.
In a world where everything is dull, she shines like fucking Sirius.
Eleven years ago, fate tore us apart.
This time, I fucking dare it to try.
Getting to her is a battlefield, but man, that’s why they call me Ruckus.
Rosie LeBlanc is about to find out how hard I can fight.
And conquering her will be the sweetest victory.
L.J. Shen resides in sunny California with her husband, son, chubby cat and wild, wild dreams. Her passion is to write badass stories, sushi, UFC and her awesome family and friends (not in this order, though. Obviously, sushi comes before writing. Oh, and also the family part.) She spend the first half of her twenties traveling the world and is now paying all the fun with extra shifts in front of her MacBook. Feel free to contact her on her Facebook page. She loves to hear from her readers.
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Title: Sexy Motherpucker
A Bad Motherpuckers Novel
Author: Lili Valente
Genre: Steamy Romantic Comedy/Hockey Romance
Release Date: May 22, 2017
Blurb
When the family dog trots in with my diaphragm in its mouth—in front of my date, his parents, and his adorable little girl—you would think I’d hit rock bottom.
WRONG.
Let’s back this up a sec…
Brendan Daniels is the sexiest man alive. The captain of the Badger’s NHL team is also clever, kind, funny, and was my good friend…until we cruised out of the friend zone one weekend with a red-hot fling. Come Monday morning, I wanted to keep riding the Big O train to happy town, but Brendan wanted someone who was “stepmom†material.
A.K.A, not me, apparently.
The problem? I’m crazy in love with him and his daughter. So when he asks me to be his pretend girlfriend for a long weekend with his former in-laws, I say yes. We’re still friends, after all, and friends don’t let friends fake it alone.
***
Laura Collins is the last woman I should be thinking about taking in the back seat of my car, in the woods behind my in-laws’ house, or in a hotel room where we’re sharing one very small, very squeaky bed.
I need a steady, stable influence for my daughter, not a fling with this too wild, too young, too impulsive red head. So what if she’s beautiful and intense and passionate and has the biggest heart I’ve ever known?
I don’t want to fall in love. I really don’t. The whole “pretend girlfriend†thing was supposed to solve my problems, buy me a little more time.
But when it comes to Laura?
Purchase Links
Also Available
Author Bio
Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.
These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.
Author Links
Coming June 13th
AVA The meek shall inherit the earth, they say. Bullshit. Look at me now. What do I have? Nothing. I thought I wouldn't get past a second heartbreak. I was wrong. I never should've closed myself off in tears when Lucas told me he loved me. I should've had faith he wouldn't betray me. Regaining his love will mean throwing away my pride, my armor and laying myself completely bare. I have to trust that he won't crush me at my most vulnerable. The attempt will leave me bleeding. It might just kill me. But I definitely won't survive knowing that I didn't fight for what I wanted: my future. A future with the only man I ever loved...a man more important than the very air I breathe...
LUCAS
You gotta put yourself out there to get what you want. My ass. I bared my heart to Ava. I begged for her trust, her love. Instead she shattered my soul. She's circling me, her pretty eyes vulnerable. She won't fool me this time. I'll never give her another shot. I'll break her before she breaks me... Note: The last book in Lucas and Ava's epic love story! No cliffhanger. 
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers. Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip. Stay in touch with her via her website, www.nadialee.net, or her blog www.nadialee.net/blog/
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February 2019
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