Sadie McGuire took the mechanic job at Fox Motors because there were no other options available, and working on cars is the only thing she knows how to do. But a bossy, growly, alpha-asshole of a boss isn’t something she bargained for. Neither is the way he makes her panties damp with one stolen glance. Now it’s just a matter of getting through the day without spontaneously combusting under his hard gaze.
Jackson Fox hired sweet little Sadie for one reason: she was sexier than hell when she begged him for the job in those skin-tight blue jeans. The fact that she’s talented under the hood of a car is just icing on the cake. But now he can’t get the sexy, smart-ass blonde out of his head. Or his garage. There’s only one option left—to scratch the sexy little itch that's been plaguing his fantasies, or risk losing his head.
Warning: Under Her Hood is a forbidden romp in the backseat of a classic muscle car—sensual curves, hard edges, and steamed-up windows! When Jackson and Sadie come together, sparks fly. Rev up the engine because this is one wild ride with a sexy mechanic you won’t forget!
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.
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!
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He kept his distance. She saved her virginity.
Torque Morrison is a biker without roots—a Nomad—and he likes it that way. The pierced and tattooed member of the Death’s Door MC is a bad boy who’s lived hard and stayed away from what he really wants…the curvy Delilah.
And staying away from what’s forbidden has been the hardest thing he’s ever done.
Delilah Stringer was the daughter of the Death’s Door MC president, and she wasn’t a shrinking violet. The outlaws she grew up around may be crude and nasty, but they’re also protective, and they’d never approve of her being with a fellow Patch.
But Torque is the only man she’s ever wanted.
And then he’s back in town, and one drunken night leads to her giving him her virginity.
Torque finally claims Delilah. She’s his in all ways. He isn’t about to walk away from her, no matter who he has to go up against to make that known.
Warning: A fast, filthy story that leaves nothing to the imagination is just a page away. It’s unbelievable, and it might even be a little ridiculous, but it hits the spot in all the right ways.
READER NOTE: This was previously published under the title Ridin' Her Rough. It has since been re-edited and revised.
He stood, but because she was still sitting, that put his crotch right at level with her face. She curled her uninjured hand into a fist and slowly trailed her gaze up to his face.
“I’m barely controlling myself as it is, Delilah.”
Her chest rose and fell with the force of trying to get enough oxygen into her lungs, but she was growing light-headed regardless. “What?” It seemed when her lust pounded inside of her, she was nothing more than a one-word kind of girl. Torque made her this way, and she knew he always would.
“Baby, if you keep looking at me like you want me to fuck you, then that’s what I’m going to do.” She watched as his jaw hardened. “In fact, I’ve had enough to drink that even though I know what I want to do to you will likely get my ass handed to me by your dad and the other members, at this point I am so fucking hard up for your pussy I don’t even care.”
Her tongue felt swollen, as did the rest of her body. Her clit throbbed, and her nipples were so hard she wouldn’t have been surprised if the damn things ripped through the thin material of her top. “I think you’re too drunk to know what you’re saying.” She needed to get out of this room right now or she’d be liable to do something that would most likely end up having her regret it in the morning.
She stood. They were now face-to-face, and although they were only inches apart, Torque didn’t move. He was at least a foot taller than her measly five-foot-two-inch frame, so she was forced to crane her neck back to look him in the eye. God, he was just so big and masculine, and although Delilah wasn’t a little thing by any means, even considered herself more on the thick side, this man made her feel petite in every way imaginable. Before she could move away, he shot his hand out, grabbed a chunk of her hair, and yanked her head back until her throat was bared to him. The sting of pain from his forceful touch only amplified the lust burning inside of her. She parted her lips, not knowing if she was going to tell him to stop or beg him for more.
“Baby, I know what the fuck I’m saying, and who I’m saying it to.” He leaned in close until she felt the brush of his lips along hers. He didn’t add any pressure, just held them there like he was some kind of sadist and was getting off on the fact that she was squirming from his torture. “I know that if I were to fuck the prez’s daughter, I’d get a fucking beating that would probably leave me bleeding out of my ears.” His breath was warm and smelled of whiskey, but the sweet scent had her pussy clenching. “But you know what, baby?” He didn’t give her a chance to speak. “I have wanted your ass for far longer than I am even comfortable admitting, and I know you want my dick buried deep inside of that sweet little pussy of yours too.”
He chuckled deeply and shook his head, which had his lips brushing back and forth along hers. “No, Delilah, not God. But I’m going to have you calling out his name as I fuck the hell out of you.”
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.
Title: Lost & Found (The Possessed Series 3)
Author: KL Donn | @Author_KLDonn
Release Date: February 21st 2017
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Designer: Dark WaterCovers
Cover Model: Kaci Stewart
Photographer: Nicole TullPhotography
All other photos are from Adobe stock
Memories last foreverâ¦ Even when they donât.
Tossed off the side of a mountain like garbage Pepper Wallace awakens to two men caring for her. Giving her everything she needs. With the cutest dog sheâs ever seen to make the lonely nights bearable she knows itâs only a matter of time before her mind breaks.
The only problem is when she remembers will she be free to be with the men sheâs come to love or will her assailant have destroyed her for good?
Cousinâs by blood, brothers by choice.
Nick Kelly and Ace Mitchell were doing their jobs, ensuring the safety of the citizens of Golden, B.C. when they came across a beautiful but bloody, broken, & beaten woman. Wanting only the best for the mystery woman that sparked an intense desire to protect, love and heal, theyâre astounded to learn she has no memory of who she is, or where sheâs from.
With an invisible clock ticking down, can they win over the woman that's destined to be their everything, or will her attacker get to her before she remembers the truth?
Amazon bestselling author of The Protectors Series and The Possessed Series.
I'm never quite sure what to say here.
So here goes...
I'm a Canadian girl through and through, I love the mountains, yet I hate the snow. The summer here gets HAWT and I wish it was year round.
Some of my favorite things are cookie dough ice cream from Marble Slab, every Die Hard movie made, and crime drama shows on TV.
I swear like a sailor, don't do frilly girly things. BUT I love when my husband treats me like a queen.
I take photos for fun, and write to breathe. I love to be as creative as I can, when I can.
These are some of my favorite things about me. Do you wanna know the best part of me?
My mom and Grandma have supported me through every bad decision, and cheated on the good ones. They're strong woman who I look up to!
My husband, Steven, Scuba Steve, we've been together since I was 17, had our first baby, Savannah, when I was 18, and were married when I was 19. 3 boys, Chase Liam & JD, and 12 years later our family is complete.
Without their constant support (And sometimes badgering) I don't think I would be the woman I am today.
B&B Promotions | @banbpromotions
Rockstar Series, Book 9
Cover Models: Nick Bennett & Stef Lambert
Photographer: Sara Eirew
Release Date: February 19th
We met at the age of eight. That day on the playground was a turning point in my life.
Her life wasn't easy. Mine was a cake walk.
She was a good girl. I was a troublemaker.
She was everything and without her I was nothing. I knew it the first time I saw her, and I still know it now.
She wanted me to live my dreams, and I wanted the same for her.
Ten years later, we're still living separate lives—seeing one another when we can, which wasn't often with her living in New York City and me in LA.
I know my lifestyle has never been one she can handle—the fans, the media, there is no privacy or peace—but I can't be without her anymore.
I need her.
She's the love of my life and when I asked her to come to me last Christmas, she said yes. I've been waiting for her, and now she's here. My heart is finally whole.
But not everything is about me. She's giving up her life there to merge it with mine here. She's giving up her privacy. She's giving up her anonymity. She's giving me everything.
I'm going to give her everything of me in return. But will our love be enough? Can the good in our lives overshadow the bad? Or will all the obstacles we've so carefully avoided break us completely?
Add to your goodreads:
Fall in love with all the Rockstars for the first time or all over again:
About Anne Mercier:
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,
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Author: TL Smith
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 1
I couldn’t do broken.
Broken is what he was.
Broken is what I will always be.
To his eyes, that held so much despair, I couldn’t look for long.
To his fist, that clenched so tightly, like he was locking away the sorrow.
To his lips, that never uttered a word, from the years of heartbreak.
And despite it all, I couldn’t stay away from him.
It was like he was drowning in an ocean, and I wanted to grab his face, and whisper to his lips,
“Don’t forget to breathe.”
This was how I fell for a man. A man who was so lovesick, I was afraid he would drown me in that same ocean he was lost in.
I used to believe I was a strong woman, a good woman, a faithful woman. I had dreams, things I wanted to accomplish, places I wanted to visit. Things I wanted to do and see.
My hands rubbed softly on my upper thigh. I tried to stop the wince that accompanied that action, but escaped me anyway. My hand lifted slowly, I looked at my nails, they were chewed right down to the skin. I used to love my nails, now I looked at them and despised them as much as I despised my weaknesses—the pitiful looks that I got from others, my hair that hadn’t been colored for over a year, my dry and broken skin that felt like sandpaper, my gaunt and haggard eyes.
My mind—well, that’s beyond repair. Questions like ‘would I ever be pretty enough or smart enough’ for his love ran rampant through my mind. Instead, all I got was his fists. They loved me, he told me so.
I listened hard as his footsteps came closer. I hadn’t cooked dinner because I’d lost track of time, sitting in that bathroom, listening to my own heartbeat, reminding me that I was still alive. Reminding me I could still breathe, still function, but only barely.
His fists crashed down hard on the door rocking it on the hinges, my body pulled itself in tighter, gripping harder onto the very foundations of my sanity. It didn’t want me to move, it wanted me to stay safe, to heal.
My mind knew otherwise. It knew that if I didn’t move within the next sixty seconds, more would follow, his patience would run thin, very thin. The second wave of his fists came down on the door, this time the ferocity of the jolts moved the door back and forth. I could hear the sounds of wood cracking and splintering slightly with every impact. My arms pull tighter, my body went rigid.
I internally screamed at myself to shift—just to get up and move.
You can do it I told myself. But my body had had enough, knowing that it couldn’t take any more punishment. It plain and simply didn’t want to accept any more.
I loved him so fiercely, so blindly that I gave him my all, and in return he gave me fractions of himself then his fists. His punishments hurt, but then he would kiss me with scolding passion, telling me I was the only one for him. I wanted to believe what he told me, I wanted to believe that our love could overcome his evil actions. I wanted to believe that five years ago when he first struck me—believing it was my fault—that it would only be that one time, and that he loved me so much he would never dare hurt me on purpose again.
Pushing thirty seconds, the time had clicked away in my head slowly. Those thirty seconds felt more like a lifetime. Again I attempted to force my body to move, screaming that there was only a mere thirty seconds at the most remaining. Yet again, it chose to ignore me. It was like we had been separated, something I knew I should have done with Jamie the first time five long years ago. Love is blind.
There was three more sets of pounding and counting, his cold hard voice started to permeate through the bathroom door. He told me to open it, to get out there. I didn’t reply, afraid of how my voice would deceive me.
I tried wiggling my toes, using all my concentration to work on that tiny action. It worked, I closed my eyes and willed my legs to move.
I just need to stand, I prayed to them.
The pounding had gotten harder, the banging louder as he frantically went about his fourth attempt. His temper was now raging. If I didn’t open that door in the next ten seconds, it would be torn from its hinges, I knew it would.
My hands clenched into fists, my eyes closed, a single tear escaped my eye. I wondered why, as my hand went up to touch it. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried or the last tear I’d shed. It all stayed inside, eating and chewing away at me. A war within my body raged that I knew I couldn’t win, but chose to try.
I looked down at my wet finger, while my other eye remained dry.
How odd. A single tear? Just the one escaping and running for its freedom. I wiped it across my shirt so it couldn’t escape. If I couldn’t, it couldn’t. It was only fair.
My hand landed on the door handle just as his hammering came again, and I managed to turn and open it. He stood there, tall and expansive. Stunningly gorgeous. He’d come straight from the gym, his shirt was off, his shoulders broad. His skin glistened with sweat.
How could someone so evil look like that? His mouth was tight, his hands were opening and closing at his sides. With all the pounding he’d done on the door, there were tiny blotches of blood on his knuckles. He was attempting to release the anger he had for me through his tight-clenched fists. I didn’t even know why. His hazel eyes closed, just for a brief second, enough time for me to take a deep breath before he stepped closer and I instinctively shuffled back the smallest of steps hoping he wouldn’t notice.
His hand came up, my insides screamed, my body wanted to bolt. But it was a gentle hand that touched my face, deceiving me again. I never closed my eyes to him anymore, I wanted to see the look on his face, store it in my memory for safe keeping every time he was angry. At first, it was to collect clues, to consider what it was I was doing to make him angry, and now it was just a habit. I couldn’t close them, even when I was choking I couldn’t close them. I needed to see that demonic fire in his eyes, remember it, preserve it, use it.
“Baby,” he whispered, stepping even closer. His touch on my skin was hot, scalding, burning me with an intensity that could melt steel, while his other hand grabbed at my hip. He leaned in, his lips touched mine, just softly.
I loved him, I hated him. I couldn’t figure out between the two feelings which were worse.
“I’ve missed you.” His hands came around my hips, circling, until they reached my ass and he squeezed hard. He breathed me in when his mouth left mine. Slow and soft kisses touched my shoulders. This was the part I hated myself the most for. That no matter how much I hated him, he was the only man who knew how to touch me. To make me only see him, to only want him. I. Hated. That.
He pushed himself into the bathroom fully, shutting the door that I struggled so hard to open. Closing it like there was no effort at all involved, while I fought with every ounce of strength I could muster within me to open it. He lifted my tender body, placing me in the shower, stripping my dress, and kissed every mark that he’d marked on me. I didn’t move, and soon he was as naked as me, the cold water running down my breasts. His hands ran up and down not so tenderly this time as he lifted and slammed me against the bathroom wall. My breath hitched. My breathing became hard for two reasons, one it hurt and two he was about to make me come. Even when I knew it was wrong, even when he whispered his love in my ear, I screamed internally my body shaking.
He carried me to our room, a room that was full of everything that was his. A single drawer to my name. I didn’t have much, he didn’t allow me the pleasure of my own things.
He laid me on the bed then got on top of me, his eyes shone brightly.
“I’m leaving you.” I rush the words out.
It was my body, my mind, and it seemed to have gained some control. My insides screamed, why must you do this? His eyes went wide, my hands started to sweat. Those beautiful lips became hard to mine. His hands moved from my side, snaked up around my neck, and I took one last breath as I watched the love of my life, the only man I’d ever loved, squeeze the life right out of me.
Like it was nothing.
T.L Smith Lover of chocolate, books, but mostly words.
T.L Smith loves to travel, loves to shop for books, sometimes shoes □
Don’t be shy about contacting T.L Smith, she doesn’t bite, hard!
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