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Excerpt Reveal: Give Me You by Caisey Quinn

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GIVE ME YOU MAY EXCERPT REVEAL

Excerpt

The library smells like hundred-year-old paper and dust. But I love it. It’s peaceful. Like a church—minus the judgment.

Skylar watches my face as we enter, and I pretend not to notice. But I know what he sees. My mouth dropping at the sight of the cathedral ceilings, my eyes brightening as they scan sky scraping towers of books.

“This place is really getting you off, isn’t it? I can’t help but wonder if you’d look this worked up after a raging orgasm. Let’s find out, shall we?”

I ignore him. I’ve gotten used to his in inappropriate banter. Mostly. When he whispers dirty things to me in public, and especially in close proximity to our roommates, I still blush. And worse, used to it or not, Skylar Martin affects me. My stomach tenses at his request. He’s only half kidding, maybe not even half. My heart beats a little heavier against my chest and I work hard to appear unfazed.

We trade under the table kicks and above the table flirty jabs for the next hour while I study. At one point I catch him watching me chewing on my pencil as if I’m purposely seducing him with my nerdy habits.

When the witty banter subsides and the tension thickens between us to a point where I can barely sit still, I stand and make my way to the reference stacks in the back of the room.

“Corin,” he says evenly from behind me once I’ve reached a dead end between rows. “Stop, please. I want to talk. Actually talk.”

I turn around and smirk at him. “Funny, I don’t think you’ve stopped talking since we got here.”

He shakes his head. “No. I want to cut the bullshit for one night. Say something real, dammit.”

“Something real, dammit,” I repeat.

His eyes are bright, emergency flares in the darkness aimed at me with a ferocious intensity that presses me further against the wall. “No more games, Corin. Not tonight.”

Realizing I’ve been holding my breath, I exhale and then inhale deeply, causing my chest to graze lightly against his. My nipples practically high-five his. God, he smells so good. I would drink whatever body wash he uses with a straw.

“What do you want me to say, Skylar? That I’m attracted to you? That I want you? That every time you open your mouth I wish it was on me? I’m not going to say any of that. Because you already fucking know it.” My teeth are clenched in frustration but voice is so breathy that it’s embarrassing.

“That’s a start. Either you’re in to me or you aren’t, Corin. If you aren’t, say the word and I’ll leave you be. But I’m done playing this mind-fucking game with you.”

“I’m…I’m…”

“You’re what? A virgin? Saving yourself? What?”

I shake my head. He wouldn’t understand. You don’t tell a guy you have a minor flirtation with that you had a miscarriage after your piece of shit boyfriend “accidentally” knocked you down a flight of stairs in your shitty apartment. Or that you ran away at fifteen to escape a mother who treated the living room like a brothel only to end up exactly like her. You sure as hell don’t tell him how the guy who knocked you up pimped you out to his friends for money or that being pregnant at eighteen made you feel like you might actually have one good thing in your life. But you lost that too so you ended up here trying desperately to create some semblance of a future for yourself. No, no way in hell.

“I’m celibate,” is all I give him because it’s all I have to give. “For personal reasons that are none of your business.”

He scoffs, and I’m overcome by the urge to slap his handsome face.

“Don’t scoff at me, Skylar. I’ve had sex. I know what it’s all about. There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just not going to do it again until I decide to.”

His brows thread inward. “And what do you think will make you decide to? Tequila?”

Bastard. My hands thrust out and shove against his hard chest. “Move, asshole. Better yet, go to hell.”

“Not until you tell me why—why you’re celibate and why you look at me like you want to eat me alive only to dip out immediately after any conversation or moment that ventures beyond surface level.”

I bite my lip hard because I did not know he’d caught those looks. Or my tendency to duck and hide to avoid intimacy. Turns out you’re not as smooth as you thought, Connelly. He’s been paying closer attention than I realized. But I’m still not ready to cut myself open and let all the ugly fall out.

“I’m not like Layla, Skylar. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, a lifetime’s worth already, ones I’m trying very hard not to repeat. I don’t want to get sidetracked by sex-that’s not what I’m here for.”

“What are you here for, Corin? I’m not trying to be a dick. I genuinely want to know. I feel like we talk around everything but never actually about anything.”

I tilt my chin up because everyone else who knows me would laugh if they knew why I was really here. “I want to go to law school—and before you burst out laughing—yes, I’m serious. I want to be a child advocate. It’s a job I heard of where you’re like a legal voice for kids who need someone to make sure they end up somewhere good and safe. Not all of us had that growing up. So I’m sorry if your precious male pride is wounded because my legs didn’t fall open the second you indicated that you were interested. If that’s what you’re looking for, look elsewhere.”

He gapes at me and I do an internal fist pump at leaving his arrogant ass speechless for once. Taking advantage of his moment of stunned weakness, I move past him but somehow his hand shoots out and catches me. Strong warm fingers encircle my upper arm, gripping tightly enough to dent my flesh but not enough to hurt.

“Corin. Stop. I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

My skin tingles to the point of searing where his fingers are. I glance down and stare at our joined flesh.

“You listening, sweetheart?”

Swallowing hard, I nod.

“I am not every other guy you’ve been with. Yes, I am attracted to you. Yes, I would like to fuck your sweet body into submission because you are always fighting me and what you feel for me. But rest assured, I do not put this much effort into anything or anyone that I don’t care about. I like you. I want to continue getting to know you. And maybe I’ve done a shit job of showing it with the innuendos and teasing, but I respect the hell out of you.”

His words have a direct line to whatever body part controls my heart rate. I make a mental note to ask in anatomy class.

“You do?”

He smirks as if I’m ridiculous not to realize this and releases my arm. I breathe a little easier though I kind of miss the contact.

“Of course I do. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful. You’re a loyal friend to your roommate from what I’ve seen and even though I’ve never heard of what you want to be when you grow up, I know it’s a hell of a lot nobler than my career choice. So yes, baby. I respect you very much. I just wish you weren’t so closed off sometimes.”

I’m closed off because you wouldn’t respect me if you really knew me.

The words “I would like to fuck your sweet body into submission” just keep circling my brain on a constant loop. How easy it would be to let him. To give up control and just let go and let him give me what we both know I need. But I know how that vicious cycle plays out. Soon I’d be using sex to validate our relationship and then I’d be using it to gage my own self-worth.

I will not be that girl again, not even for this beautiful man who swears he respects me.

“I’ll work on that,” I finally say, easing the tension just a fraction. “I’ll try to at least.”

His eyes cloud over, his gaze growing darker by the minute.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, Corin? Because I’m tough enough to take it if that’s what you want.”

I can’t help but think of the accident, the way he had Landen’s back without hesitation, and how much fun we had later that night, just hanging out. As much as I’ve prided myself on not needing anyone, on not needing a man in my life period, and is certifiably crazy as this particular man makes me, the thought of him leaving me alone as he put it is painful.

“No,” I whisper. “I don’t want that. I just want…”

What the fuck do I want?

Apparently Skylar wants to know the same thing.

“Well…what the hell do you want?”

My mouth tugs upward at our similar line of thinking. I keep picturing Ryan Gosling screaming a similar question at Rachel McAdams.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly. “I want…I want to know where we stand at all times. I need boundaries. I want to know that you aren’t going to hook up with the next thing that walks by just because I’m not giving it up. I want us to draw a line, I guess.”

“A line?” He arches a brow and folds his arms over his chest. “What kind of line?”

“A friendship line,” I say, formulating my theory as I’m speaking it. “I want us to be friends who are getting to know each other like you said. And I want to keep it at that until we reach a mutual decision about whether or not we want to be more. But even if we decided to be more, I still might not be ready for a sexual relationship. Do you think you can handle that?”

Please say yes. It’s a lot to ask of a red-blooded American nineteen year-old male. I know this. I just need a little more effort. And some patience.

Skylar strokes his chin thoughtfully. He’s making me sweat—dragging it out the same way I’ve done to him. I examine my Lincoln Park After Dark manicure as if I couldn’t care less what his answer is.

But I care, God do I care. And he apparently has more patience than I do.

“For God sake’s Martin, say something.”

His lips twitch. “I’m thinking it over. For the most part it’s a reasonable enough offer, but my dick thinks you’re a mean, mean, girl.”

My eyebrows lift and I flash him an amused smile. “Well my body thinks you’re overestimating your ability to fuck it into submission.”

I win. Skylar looks like I just hit him with a flying throat punch.

Tension ripples his angular jaw line and I have the strangest urge to lick it. Damn hormones. They are not cooperating at all.

“Corin…I’m going to back down on the inappropriate comments the best that I can.” He leans into my space but I refuse to budge. I remain statue still as he moves my hair off my left shoulder. “But trust me when I tell you, I could do things to your body that you don’t even have names for. And I feel it, the way you tremble when I touch you unexpectedly, the way you clench your delectable thighs together when I say those dirty things in your ear. So please, inform any parts of your anatomy that doubt me that I will be proving them all kinds of wrong as soon as you give me permission to do so.”

His erotic promise lingers in the air between us. It wraps around me like a boa constrictor, starting at my throat and squeezing hardest low in my stomach.

“So the line,” I choke out.

“Yes, Red. You can have your line.” He winks, gracing me with a wicked grin. “For now.”

GIVE ME YOU COMING SON

Give Me You by Caisey Quinn releases June 7th!

Add Give Me You to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1rNVc3q

View this excerpts Pinterest Board: https://www.pinterest.com/caiseyquinn/give-me-you/

give me you cover

Blurb

Corin Connelly left her past far behind her in New York City. Along with her mother and an ex-boyfriend who had no plans to let her go. Starting over in college in California seemed like a vacation in paradise compared to her old life, and if anyone needs a fresh start, it’s her. But her new roommate has a life-threatening secret, and soon paradise becomes even more intense than New York. When she loses a bet to the university soccer team’s star goalie, Skylar Martin, he claims a prize she didn’t ever plan to give him.

A weekend in her hometown.

Skylar Martin is used to getting what he wants. Growing up in a world of privilege has made his life easy, which is exactly how he likes his women. But when a feisty redhead tells him no, he becomes determined to figure out what makes her tick. And what she’s hiding.

Spending a weekend together will change everything they think they know about each other. The closer they become, the harder it is to hide the mistakes they thought they’d left behind–mistakes that will stand in the way of what they both want.

Corin and Skylar will have to stop hiding from the darkness in their pasts if they want a bright future together. But how can you love someone if you can’t forgive them?
GIVE ME YOU TEASER 3

See the beginning of Skylar and Corin’s story

in KEEP ME STILL

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/26LscsK

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About the Author

CAISEY QUINN

Caisey Quinn lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her vivacious six-year-old daughter. She is the bestselling author of the Neon Dreams series (Avon/William Morrow) and the Kylie Ryans series as well as several New Adult and Contemporary Romance novels. You can find her online at www.caiseyquinnwrites.com and Tweeting entirely too often as @CaiseyQuinn. 


She is represented by Kevan Lyon of the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

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Excerpt Reveal: Je suis a toi by Pepper Winters

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je suis a toi excerpt reveal

Excerpt

“You obeyed me.”

Her head bowed, her legs spreading wider, revealing the gift I worshiped daily between her legs. “I did. I look forward to my reward.”

My lips curled; the darkness enveloped me. The beast inside stretched, unsheathing its claws, lengthening its spine in preparation.

I stalked toward her and fisted her hair. I fell more in love than I already was.

This woman made me come alive. This woman would end up killing me. But my life was already hers, and I would die gratefully on the pyre of her affection.

“Tu connaiss les règles, esclave.” You know the rules.

“What rules, maître?”

“You don’t get your reward until you’ve been punished.”

Her gaze glittered with rebellion and retaliation but not one ounce of fear—the perfect cocktail for a bastard like me. “Go ahead. You’ll never break me.”

“Ah, my sweet, sweet Tess. That might be the case…” I nipped at her bottom lip. “Mais ça ne m’empêchera pas d’essayer.” But it won’t stop me from trying.

Dropping the black bag by her spread legs, I tugged on her right plait. “Up.”

Unfolding immediately, she stood quivering before me. Her chest rose and fell, imprisoned in the dark red bra I’d handpicked for her. Her flat stomach shadowed with faint bruises from previous nights, and I traced the bite mark I’d left on her hipbone after our parlour games.

I wanted to do what I’d planned now. To get it over with before she could have second thoughts. But I restrained myself. Anticipation would make it that much sweeter.

Gripping her jaw, I kissed her with a wet-as-fuck dominating kiss before pushing her backward to the bed.

She obeyed every prompt. Falling onto the bedspread, she watched me with desire-glittering eyes.

This room was very much like our assigned accommodation, only smaller. The fireplace roared with heat and the four-poster bed hung with midnight blue drapery rather than forest green.

My jeans and t-shirt became too tight as my body prepared to tease and torture.

Tess squirmed on the mattress as I moved toward her and yanked her up the bed by her arms. The moment she was in the middle, I uncoiled a piece of Japanese silk rope from my pocket and looped it around her wrist.

With a sharp smile, I secured her to one of the four bedposts.

It was a risk tying her down like this. After all, she’d done the same to me when I’d given her my nightmares to hopefully break hers. However, no memory of that day hovered in her gaze. Her skin already flushed with lust as I fastened her other wrist and moved toward her ankles.

She didn’t speak—she was too well trained—but her eyes never left my ministrations.

She gasped as my fingers ran around her ankle, cupping her heel protectively before wrenching her legs apart and securing them as tight as her wrists.

Once finished, she lay spread-eagled with no hope of escape.

I stood and surveyed my fucking delicious woman. The lingerie barely hid her bare pussy, shadowing it in red lace while her bra couldn’t hide the pinpricks of nipples begging me to bite.

Running a fingertip from her instep to her clit, I murmured, “So pretty and no chance of running. What shall I do with you?”

Her hands fisted, her lips parting with breath. “Anything…do anything you want.”

“Anything?” My fingers pinched her pussy, indenting her soft flesh with the lace protecting her.

She gasped, white cheeks flushing so prettily. The scrap of material couldn’t hide how wet and hot she was, drenching the delicate underwear. Her desire matched mine. I was rock-fucking-hard for her.

“I’ll give you a choice, Tess.” Rubbing her pussy, I pressed hard and swift. “Pain or pleasure first? You make the call.”

Her back bowed as I stabbed at her entrance, prevented from entering her by the lacy garment. Soon, that bastard chastity belt would have to be sliced away. But for now, it kept me focused. Gave me a barrier I wasn’t permitted to break.

Her eyes switched from dove-grey to dark blizzard. “Pain…I pick pain first.”

I shook my head, stealing my hand from her core and bending to unzip my black bag. “Wrong choice.”

je suis a toi teaser 2

“Life taught me an eternal love will demand the worst sacrifices. A transcendent love will split your soul, cleaving you into pieces. A love this strong doesn’t grant you sweetness—it grants you pain. And in that pain is the greatest pleasure of all.”

Je Suis A Toi by Pepper Winters releases on May 31st.

Pre-order on iBooks here: http://apple.co/1Tm62pT

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JE SUIS A TOI

Blurb

Q made me the happiest esclave in the world. He gave me his heart, his empire, his ruthless unforgiving love. And life finally left us in peace.

A man like my maître has special needs though, growing stronger as our lives intertwine. The only way to survive his monster is to agree to all his desires.

Including his latest wish.

I’m his.

And I won’t refuse.
je suis a toi teaser

Haven’t met Q & Tess yet?  

Grab the Monsters in the Dark Box set here:

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About the Author

pepper winters

Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

Excerpt Reveal: Reign by M.N. Forgy

reign excerpt reveal

EXCERPT

“You know what I think it is?”
“I don’t really care,” I state, but I am curious.
“You want me.” He says it so softly I barely hear him. Glancing in my mirror, he’s looking down, his face unreadable, his tone serious.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I respond curtly, trying to stay resilient. I’ve seen the girls who are associated with his club; he’s a player and is telling me what I want to hear.
He grunts, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re telling me you didn’t like me kissing you the other night? That my hand up your shirt didn’t light a fire in those little panties of yours?” His tone is arrogant. My body responds, my nipples hardening, craving to have his rough touch one more time. Goddamn him, why can’t he shut up?
“I was drunk,” I defend, looking out the windshield.
The car goes quiet, and I’m thankful; his confrontation made me uncomfortable.
“Hey, Rookie?”
“Hmm?” I look in the rearview mirror to see his face. His mouth is parted, the corner of one lip curved slightly as he looks downward.
“How sore do you think you’ll be after I’m done fucking you?”

reign pre-order now

One bad biker. One gorgeous sheriff.

One intense biker romance.

Reign releases on January 27th!

PRE-ORDER NOW!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1W0eSdq

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1JFJyyJ

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1PW98BW

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Kobo: http://bit.ly/1QdBQy7

reign cover

Blurb

As the president of the Sin City Outlaw Motorcycle Club, l fuck as hard as I ride and rarely go to bed alone.

The women are fast and the violence is intense.

I excel in both.

People either respect me or fear me. I’m not arrogant. It’s just the truth.

I was a king, reigning over Vegas without complication, until one gorgeous sheriff made everything fall apart.

When I saw her, I became a Neanderthal, wanting nothing more than to be between those legs.

I guess that’s where I went wrong, because my reality was shot to hell real

fucking fast.

One kiss caused her to step over that blue line.

One night in her bed made me a traitor.

And now… we’re both screwed.

reign teaser new

About the Author

m.n. forgy bio

M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Excerpt Reveal: The Baller by Vi Keeland

This is an exclusive sneak peek of

the baller banner

(A standalone novel)

Release date 1/18/2016

A Contemporary Romance novel

New York Times & USA Today Bestseller

Vi Keeland

***

Excerpt from THE BALLER

“You ready?” Nick slung his bag over his shoulder and lifted his camera. The reporter in front of us wrapped up his interview and shook hands with Easton.

As I’ll ever be. “Sure.”

I stepped forward and extended my hand. “I’m Delilah Maddox with WMBC Sports News.”

A slow grin spread across Easton’s face. He surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “Pleasure to meet you.”

I wasn’t sure if he was baiting me into an argument—expecting me to lash out at him for kissing me when he’d just shaken the last male reporter’s hand—or if he was trying to use his blatant sexuality to throw me off. Either way, I wasn’t playing his game. I cleared my throat and stood straighter, even though my knees felt a little wobbly.

“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“Why else would you be in here?”

I ignored his sarcasm. He was still smiling at me. Actually, it was more like a smirk, and it made me feel like a toy he was about to play with. “You ready, Nick?” My cameraman finished setting up the lighting, then lifted the camera into position and gave me a hand signal.

“Congratulations on the win today, Brody. How is your knee feeling after your first game back?” I lifted my microphone high, knowing Nick was filming in close.  

“I feel . . . ” He nonchalantly reached to the towel wrapped around his waist and tugged at the corner. The towel fell to the ground. “Great. I feel great. And how about you? It’s your first trip into the locker room, isn’t it? Do you like what you see so far?” His lips curled up into a full-blown wicked smile.

Before I could catch myself, my eyes dropped to his naked lower half. Shit. He was dangling in the wind. I totally got distracted by just how low the thing dangled. It was probably a full minute before I responded to his question. A full minute of dead air time. Great. “Yes. Umm . . . the locker room is . . . ummm . . . nice.”

I sounded like a total ditz. On air.

The jackass continued interviewing me. “Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Ummm . . . it’s much bigger than I imagined.”

His smile grew even wider.  

Ugh.

I needed to get back on track or my first locker room interview would become a laughingstock blooper. Viewers had no idea he was naked from the waist down. “Do you think you were at one hundred percent today?”

His eyebrows jumped. “If you’re referring to today’s game, definitely. I had one hundred percent out there on the field. There’re some other areas where I have a lot of growth potential, but my knee felt one hundred percent today.”

His pale green eyes darkened, and I watched his long lashes lower. I followed his line of sight, and suddenly I was staring at his naked package. Again. Damn it. My eyes darted back up, but I felt my cheeks heating. I had to end this, or I was going to be beet red on air.

“Well, welcome back. And congratulations on today’s win.”

I waited until Nick lowered his camera and turned off the light. Then I looked right at Brody Easton’s smug face. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

His eyes sparkled. “I do.”

I heard the chuckles and high fives at my back as I stormed out of the locker room.

★★★★

We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!

Would you like to read the FULL BOOK before it’s published?

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ARCs can only be sent to Kindles or Kindle apps.

the baller coming soon

Coming January 18th

Available for Pre-order on iBooks, B&N and Kobo now!

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baller

Blurb

The first time I met Brody Easton was in the men’s locker room.   

It was my first interview as a professional sportscaster.

The famed quarterback decided to bare all.   

And by all, I don’t mean he told me any of his secrets.  

No.  The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel, just as I asked the first question.  On camera.   

The Super Bowl MVP quickly adopted a new hobby—screwing with me.

When I pushed back, he shifted from wanting to screw with me, to wanting to screw me.

But I don’t date players.  

And it’s not because I’m one of the few women working in the world of professional football.   

I’d date an athlete.   

It’s the other kind of player I don’t date.   

You know the type.  Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking to get laid.

Brody Easton was the ultimate player.

Every woman wanted to be the one to change him.

But the truth was, all he needed was a girl worth changing for.

Turned out, I was that girl.

Simple right?

Let’s face it.  It never is.

There’s a story between once upon a time and happily ever after…  

And this one is ours.

baller teaser 1

About the Author:

the baller banner 2

Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

Beat

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MWanfu

Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1fczMX5

iBooks: http://apple.co/1DnI6f6

Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1aqrmbS

B&N:  http://bit.ly/1O1Ah0q

Throb

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1BgqIUD

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1CsRg9d

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zk882K

iBooks: http://bit.ly/1x5c3P8

Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1slglLN

 

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1xC6epE

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1alpVES

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1dbzZ8R

Smashwords – http://bit.ly/1is0zNX

iBooks: http://bit.ly/1co2ZpF

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1xC71aa

B&N: http://bit.ly/1gwTyJw

iBooks:  http://bit.ly/1gHMCZg

Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1fqQcnj

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/NU2rCR

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1wbsJEK

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The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

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Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

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Standalone novels

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

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First Thing I See

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Excerpt Reveal: Legend by Katy Evans

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legend excerpt reveal

SEATTLE

Maverick

‘Not in a million years, kid.’

‘No.’

‘NOT INTERESTED.’

‘Get the fuck out of my face!’

Four cities in two days, and more doors slammed in my face than I can count. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and scratch another name from my list.

Hopping on to a bus and hopping off thirty minutes later, I scan the mix of both commercial and apartment numbers down the block, then knock on my last door.

“Coach Hennesy?”

He’s a tall man, his hair like pepper, clad in sweats, with a yellow timer hanging from his neck. He gives me a questioning look.

“I’m your next champion.”

He laughs, but then he must see something on my face. In my stance. Thirst, resoluteness, guts. Maybe I’m wearing my balls in my eyes. He falls sober and swings the door wide-open. “Come on in.”

He doesn’t ask for my name.

I guess with one look, he knows he’ll find my name in the dictionary, right next to “determined.”

He leads me to his garage. “Where’d you train before?” he asks.

“Self-taught. I watch videos.”

He scoffs, then shrugs. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

I eye the equipment across the room. The heavy bag hangs from the ceiling, the leather worn from other fighters before me. There’s a boxing dummy at the corner. Speed bag. Weights. A whole private gym set up here. I drop both my bags, then zip open my backpack and start to put on the gloves without bothering to remove my hoodie.

“Take that off; I need to know what you’ve got. Need to see your form,” Hennesy says.

I clench my jaw. Slowly unzip my hoodie. Take it off and glance past my shoulder, shifting to keep my back from the coach’s view. The guy is clearing the fighting area. Good. We can get down to business. He walks to me when I face him.

“Give it over.” I hand him my hoodie and he tosses it aside, then crosses his arms and looks at me. “Speedball first.”

I inhale, position myself before the speedball, and hit. Wham.

I keep on hitting, lightning fast, my fists making the bag fly.

I would have warmed up first, but I’ve been doing this for days, and I won’t stop until I’ve got myself a coach—and not even then.

I’ve got momentum now, and I pick up speed, my arms moving back and forth, working the speed bag until it’s moving so fast you can’t even see it.

I’m starting to sweat; it’s stuffy in here, but I can’t stop. I need him to take me on. I need one yes to get me in the ring. Just one yes and I’ll do the rest.

“Time.” Hennesy stops me. He signals to the boxing dummy and the heavy bag. “Let’s see you pound the bag.”

I swing out and slam my knuckles on the bag, putting everything into my fists. Thack, thump, thud.

Hennesy’s composure starts to crumble with excitement. “Holy shit, boy!”

I’m getting in to it. I’m in the zone—where it’s just me, the leather brown bag, my fists, and nothing else but slamming the spot I’m looking at.

“I’ve seen enough.” He stops the bag from swinging. His eyes glassy. “Fill this out.”

I pull off my right glove and grab a pen as he slaps a paper onto a desk at the corner. I bend down to fill out my name and contact information and realize, too late, that I exposed the tattoo on my back.

“You’re his boy.”

I freeze midsignature.

A second ticks by. Then two.

I slowly set the pen down and take one last look at the paper. I might not get to fill it out after all. I turn.

His face has paled.

I wait it out for a few beats. Maybe he’s different. Maybe he can deal with it.

He tosses my jacket at me. “Get out. Nobody wants to see you fight.”

I frown fiercely as I catch my jacket in my fist and edge forward, equally mad now. “That’s too damn bad. ’Cause I’m fighting anyway.”

I keep my eyes on him as I pull off my left glove, shove my arms into my hoodie, and zip up.

I walk out and the door slams behind me. I clench my jaw, and I shove my gloves into my bag and spot the old, black gloves inside too. I push them down into the bottom of the duffel bag and zip it up.

The season starts in a week and a half. No coach? No fight. I can’t even get into a gym.

But I won’t let anyone or anything keep me from the ring.

I pick up a penny from the ground.

And I spot a girl in workout clothes across the street, tying her shoelaces. She’s a step away from the gym door. I straighten, pull my hoodie over my head, and cross the street, following after her like I belong.

legend pre-order now

Meet Maverick “The Avenger” Cage in Legend, the newest stand alone in the REAL series releasing February 9th!

PRE-ORDER NOW

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legend katy

Blurb

Maverick “the Avenger” Cage wants to rise to the top and become a legend in the ring. Though he keeps his identity well guarded, he’s known on the fighting circuit as the new kid with a chip on his shoulder and a tattoo on his back that marks him as trouble. He’s got a personal score to settle with the Underground’s one and only Remington “Riptide” Tate.

As Mav trains, he meets a young girl—the only other new person in the town–and sparks fly. When things get heated between them, he finds out she’s none other than Reese Dumas, the cousin of Remington Tate’s wife. A girl who’s supposed to root against him and a girl he’s supposed to stay away from.

But Maverick fights for the woman in his heart, and the monsters in his blood. The world’s eyes are on them and the victor will go down in history as the ultimate fighting champion; the ultimate LEGEND.

* LEGEND is the 6th and final installment of the REAL series, but it can also be read as standalone or after the three Remington and Brooke books (Real/Mine/Remy.)

fight

Real (Book One) The Real Series

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Ripped  (Book Five) The Real Series

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About the Author:

katy evans

Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!

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Excerpt Reveal: Love Unspoken (Flawed Love #2) by Lisa DeJong

excerpt reveal love unspoken

EXCERPT

I finally walk in the office two minutes after eight. I’m late for the first time in six months, and I don’t even care. Sometimes when life weighs you down, you simply stop caring.
The elevator opens to my floor, and I step out in somewhat of a trance—a mix of tired, hung-over, and confused. Monday feels like Friday, and that’s never a good sign.
A strong arm wraps around me from behind, pulling me back into a dark room. I’m ready to fight back, but his familiar scent tickles my nose, and I relax.
“You’re late.” His breath hits the back of my neck.
“I overslept. It won’t happen again.”
His fingers curl against the fabric of my navy blue shift dress. “Does your new perfume have a hint of tequila in it?” he asks.
“You don’t like it?” I ask, hiding from the truth.
“Don’t fuck with me, Ms. Fields. Who did you drink with last night because it wasn’t me?”
“Why do you have to be so smart?”
“Lila.”
I close my eyes tightly, praying for forgiveness in advance. “I may have had a few shots last night before bed.”
He spins me around in his arms, and it’s only then that I realize he pulled us into a small conference room. He has me pressed against the wall, his arms framing my face. “I’ve never known a person to do shots alone.”
Even with only the dim light showing through the partially open door, I can see his eyes. “I wasn’t alone.”
He pushes against the door until it closes then frames me in again. There’s nowhere to run. No lies to tell. “I don’t want him there alone with you. Just thinking about it is making me sick.”
I swallow my regret. I can’t do anything about what’s already been done.
“Move in with me,” he says, his lips a whisper above mine. I answer the only way I can, standing on my tiptoes to press my lips on his. I want him to forget just as much as I need to stop thinking.
He grips the back of my neck, deepening the kiss by pressing his tongue between my lips. I’m lost in him—swept away by the waves he creates from head to toe. I splay my hands on his stomach, feeling his taut muscles through his crisp dress shirt. I slide them up until my fingers meet behind his neck, curling into his hair.
“I’m not a jealous man,” he breathes as his mouth trails a path down my throat.
“Okay,” I say softly, my body aching for his.
“But you make me jealous.”
I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear.
He groans, lifting me until my legs are wrapped around his hips. My dress is short … it wouldn’t take much.
The door clicks, but his lips stay on me. I open my mouth, but the light comes on, warning him before I can. He looks up but doesn’t move to put me down. My cheeks burn red when I see who’s standing there.
“Sorry, Mr. Stanley,” Jane, the receptionist says, her own face turning a deep shade of red. “You asked me to bring Mr. Stone in here. I didn’t-”
“It’s okay, Jane. I’ve got it from here,” Pierce interrupts. She wastes no time before disappearing around the corner. Not that I blame her.
My face only burns hotter when I see Blake standing where she’d been. He’s not looking at Pierce … just me. The color drains from his face as he steps back, lowering his wounded eyes. I don’t want to watch, but I also can’t look away.
My chest tightens as I loosen my grip on Pierce and fight to stand on my own two feet again. He lets me, but his body is still flush with mine.
“Let me go,” I say, trying my best to make it so Blake doesn’t hear.
He does, slowly, adjusting my skirt along the way. “Now he knows,” he whispers against my ear before pulling away.
My eyes widen as I watch him take a seat at the conference room table. He looks back at me before turning his attention to Blake. There’s nothing I’d like to do more than disappear from this room, but I fear for each of their safety if I do.
“Are you going to come sit down, Blake, or are we holding this meeting in the hallway?” Pierce asks, leaning back in his chair. For a second, he reminds me of Wade; I hate comparing the two.
I glance over at Blake. He’s pondering, hands fisted at his side, eyes narrowed in on the man I was entangled with just minutes ago. A still frame of it could definitely go next to uncomfortable in the dictionary. “Did you call me here for a meeting, Stanley, or did you call me here to prove that you have bigger balls?”
Pierce has a smug look on his face, but as he looks over at me, his expression softens instantly. If he thought this was going to be okay—that I was somehow going to not see through him—he was wrong. He didn’t just hurt Blake; he hurt me.
His eyes shift back to Blake. “A meeting, of course. We just lost track of time.”
Blake steps into the room, walking right past me to the side the table opposite Pierce. I watch—panicked—as he leans over the table. “I swear to God … if you are using her to get back at me, I will fucking kill you. She’s not a prize. She’s not a way to punish me, and so help me God, if you hurt her-”
Pierce stands swiftly, leaning in until their faces are only about a foot apart. “I would never hurt her because I love her. Do you know what love is because I seriously doubt it.” My heart races, and I have no idea what to do to make this all stop. “And while we’re having our man to man, I’m going to warn you once to stay the fuck away from her outside of work. I was the one who picked up the pieces you left behind, and I’m not going to sit here and let you hurt her again.”
“I was protecting her,” Blake says through gritted teeth.
Pierce tilts his head, the look on his face absolutely murderous. “I forgot how good you are at protecting women.”

love unspoken coverLove Unspoken is the second book in the Flawed Love series!  

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RELEASE DATE: October 19th

I lent my heart to the bad boy, and he did exactly what I expected he would. He broke it.

And the guy I should have been with—he’s still here. He tries to take my mind off everything I’ve lost while showing me what I could have. I’m ready for a new start, to fall in love again … to do what I should have done in the first place.

Everything seems perfect.

Then the past comes walking back in. I thought I was over him, but one look and I know that’s not true. We went through too much together for those feelings to completely fade away.

When my past and present collide, how am I supposed to choose? They both love me, and I love them.

A heart will be broken … and it could be mine.
love unspoken bannerLies Unspoken (Book One) is Now ON SALE for ONLY $0.99!

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About the Author:

lisa de jong

Lisa DeJong

Lisa De Jong is a wife, mother and full-time number cruncher who lives in the Midwest. Her writing journey involved insane amounts of coffee and many nights of very little sleep but she wouldn’t change a thing. She also enjoys reading, football and music.
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Excerpt Reveal: The Fall Up by Aly Martinez

the fall up excerpt reveal

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Levee

It was raining. Isn’t that the way all great love stories start? And also usually end? The midnight air was cool against my skin as I stared off that bridge. My blond wig was secured in place by a headband, and chunky sunglasses covered my whiskey-colored eyes. I didn’t look like myself any more than I felt it. Bruises from the night before painted my legs while fresh scabs covered my knees, but it was the hollowness in my chest that hurt the most.

Yep. Still me.

Which was exactly why I was standing on that bridge, wishing for the mental fortitude to hurl myself off.

A man’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You finally gonna do it tonight?”

I instinctually smoothed my fake hair down and pressed the bridge of my glasses closer to my face, sealing out any possible glance he could catch. I stared ahead as I snapped, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen you here three nights in a row now. I was just wondering if tonight was going to be the night you finally jump.”

My eyes flashed wide, but since they were covered by the dark glasses, my reaction remained hidden. “I just like the view. That’s all.” What a load of shit.

I watched him nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah me too. It’s gorgeous up here.”

Shuffling my feet to the side, I attempted to slip away as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered it my way.

“You want one?”

I shook my head and then crept down a few inches to put distance between us.

“Suit yourself.” He used a hand to shield the lighter from the wind, but the constant sprinkle of rain made his task impossible. “Damn it,” he cursed with the cigarette tucked between his lips. “Little help?” he asked, swinging his gaze to mine.

Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “With what?”

“It’s raining…and windy…and I’m trying to burn one.” He tilted his head, equally as incredulous.

“You want me to call God? We had a bad breakup recently, but he might be willing to do me one last favor.”

He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. What’s the big guy’s response time like these days? Last time we spoke, it was”—he paused to look at his watch—“oh, twenty-seven years.”

A soft laugh bubbled from my throat, and one side of his mouth lifted in a gorgeous grin.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to wait that long, so maybe you could just block the wind with your body?” His smile spread as he stepped toward me, forcing my gaze to nervously bounce away.

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. Lung cancer and I broke up too.” After gathering the back of my wig into a ponytail, I pulled it over my shoulder and turned away from him. The chill of the wind blasted my face and roared over my ears as it rushed past me.

I went back to staring out at the dark, choppy water, becoming lost in the idea of how cold it might be.

Is tonight the night?

No.

My feet would more than likely never leave the edge of that bridge, but there was a definite reason why I was imagining ending it all. Exactly zero other people in the world would understand why. I had it all, and I dreamed about losing it all—more often than I would ever admit, even to myself.

After stepping out of my heels, I slipped my foot between the bars on the railing. The wind slammed my bruised leg against the metal. “Shit,” I hissed as pain shot through me.

“You think that hurts? Imagine falling twenty-five stories then crashing into the water, which might as well be concrete, at speeds upward of seventy miles per hour,” the man said, leaning on the metal railing next to me.

“Wow. Someone’s done some research,” I said sarcastically, barely sparing him a glance.

“Daily,” he responded frankly, causing my surprised gaze to swing to his. Simply shrugging at my reaction, he turned his back to the railing and propped himself up on his colorfully tattooed forearms. “You forget I’ve been here the last three nights in a row too.” He smirked, lifting the cigarette up to his lips for a deep inhale.

“Listen, I’m not going to jump if you’re some kind of caped crusader on a mission. I just needed some fresh air.” I pointedly glanced at his cigarette.

A laugh escaped his mouth in a grey puff. “Fresh air is overrated. Especially given the reason you’re standing here.” He knowingly arched a dark-brown eyebrow.

“Riiiiight,” I drawled, rolling my eyes behind my glasses. “Okay, well, I was just heading out anyway.”

“Then my work here is done.” He bowed, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a smile as I stepped back into my shoes and walked away.

I shook my head at the random stranger. Then, a thought struck me, stopping me only a few feet away. Spinning back to face him, I asked, “Wait. Were you reaching out to me as a cry for help?”

“Oh look. Designer Shoes has a conscience!” He dropped his cigarette to the damp ground, stepping on it with the toe of his well-worn, black boots. Bending over, he picked the butt up and tucked it in his pocket.

At least he didn’t litter.

“Oh look. Tattooed Stalker has jokes!” I smarted back.

He smiled, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and then pausing just before guiding it between his lips. “Were you judging me based on my tattoos? I’m offended.” He feigned anguish then laughed while lifting his lighter to once again battle the wind for a nicotine fix.

I wanted to walk away, but he wasn’t wrong. I did have a conscience, and right then, I was worried that it might really be his night to make good on his apparent numerous visits to the bridge.

With a huff, I headed back towards him, praying that I could wrap it up as quickly as possible then head back to my house for a few hours of sleep. Or, more likely, lie awake while staring at the ceiling and crying.

“Are you planning to jump for real?” I asked.

His smile fell as he focused on the water. “Nah. I don’t have the balls to do something like that. Talking to you wasn’t a plea for help or anything. You just look worse than usual tonight.” His gaze slid down to my battered legs.

“Oh!” I exclaimed in understanding. “That’s not at all what you’re thinking. I fell down some stairs.”

He quirked his lips in disbelief.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he told the wind. “You can go. I’m good.”

I could have walked away, but for some reason, I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders and silently stood there while he finished his cigarette.

After a final deep inhale, he flicked it over the railing of the bridge.

Apparently, he does litter.

Turning to me, his face became serious. “You need to call the cops before he makes the decision to end it all for you.”

“Who?” I asked, watching the burning ember hit the metal column then explode in a million different sparks before disappearing down to the water below.

Lucky cigarette.

“The stairs…and whatever inanimate object you’re blaming for those bruises you’re hiding behind sunglasses at one in the morning. You should call the cops before…” His voice trailed off, but his dark gaze narrowed on mine. His eyes bored into my hidden stare, combining with the rain and wind to send chills down my spine.

I took the moment to secretly assess him. He was insanely sexy, but nothing like the men I was accustomed to. His chin was the kind of scruffy that made women weak, but it was obvious he didn’t pay four hundred dollars for his personal hairstylist to shape it. Judging by his shaggy, brown hair that begged for me to thread my fingers in it, I wasn’t sure he was even a barbershop kind of guy. He stood a few inches taller than I was in heels, so I pegged him at around six one. And while his tattooed forearms were deliciously sculpted and his shoulders were notably defined, his body didn’t appear to be swollen with muscles from hours spent at the gym. By the aura of bad boy he gave off, I would have expected him to be a self-consumed, arrogant prick.

He wasn’t though.

He was just an average guy worrying about the well-being of an average girl.

Only he couldn’t have been more wrong, and a pang of guilt hit me hard.

Just not hard enough for me to do anything to correct his assumptions about who I was.

Very softly, I attempted to put his fears to rest. “I promise it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Okay,” he responded, unconvinced. He nodded to himself before dragging another cigarette from his pocket.

I watched him struggle for a second before I scooted towards him, using my body to block the wind.

Biting the cigarette between his straight, white teeth, he smiled devilishly around it. “Thanks.” Flicking the flame to life, he hunched over until a stream of smoke swirled up from the red tip.

“You should stop smoking.”

“Noted.” He exhaled through his nose.

We went back to silently staring over the side of the bridge. The familiar lights of the San Francisco skyline danced all around us. And, even as tourists and locals alike passed by us, I felt an odd, and unbelievably comfortable, isolation standing there with him.

When my teeth began to chatter, his attention was drawn my way. “I’m not here to jump. You really can go.”

I nodded but didn’t move away.

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his biceps for warmth.

“How are you not frozen?” I asked, taking in his thin Henley for the first time since we met.

Shrugging, he dropped his cigarette, answering as he bent to retrieve it. “Thick skin? I’m used to it? I come here a lot? I’m half Eskimo?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“Fucking. Freezing,” he admitted, tucking his arms close to his body and blowing into his hands. “I just came up here for one smoke. Then I saw you. Now, come on. Be a lady and loan a man a jacket,” he joked, tugging on the edge of my coat.

I laughed, hugging it even tighter around my body and stepping out of his reach. “How about we both just leave? Then neither of us have to worry about the other plummeting to their death.”

“Sounds like an amazing plan.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the tattered jeans riding low on his hips. As we began the hike back down to the foot of the bridge, he asked, “You have a name, Designer Shoes?”

I smiled and shook my head, not willing to lie—or divulge the truth.

“Yeah. Me either,” he replied.

I bit my bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Side by side, we trudged the rest of the way in silence.

When we got to the foot of the bridge, he turned to face me and sighed. “Well, I genuinely hope I never see you again.”

My head snapped back in shock, and maybe a little hurt.

But he quickly corrected himself. “No! I just mean… Shit.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair while I watched, amused. “I just mean, given the way we met… I…um. I hope you never have a reason to go back up there.”

I teasingly tipped my head to the side. “But I really like the view.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Of course, the view. Okay, well, have a good night.”

“You too.” I smiled tightly, but my feet didn’t budge. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want him to see my car or the bodyguard waiting for me behind the wheel. But, in reality, I just wasn’t ready to leave. Home wasn’t where I wanted to be. I didn’t actually want to be anywhere.

Not even standing at the foot of a bridge, talking to a witty and sexy man.

Okay, maybe I wanted that a little bit.

“Yep. Have a good night,” he repeated, shoving his hands inside his pockets and slowly backing away.

I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before he jogged in the other direction.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head at the entire interaction—secretly lamenting that it hadn’t been longer.

the fall up cover ebookMaybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall

in love at rock bottom—up.

Add The Fall Up  to your TBR list on Goodreads!

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RELEASE DATE: October 26th

I wanted to jump.

He made me fall.

As a celebrity, I lived in the public eye, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself in the spotlight. 

Until he found me.

Sam Rivers was a gorgeous, tattooed stranger who saved my life with nothing more than a simple conversation.

But we were both standing on that bridge for a reason the night we met. The secrets of our pasts brought us together—and then tore us apart.

Could we find a reason to hold on as life constantly pulled us down?

Or maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall in love at rock bottom—up.

the fall up teaser

About the Author:

aly martinez

Aly Martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

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Excerpt Reveal: Cocky Bastard by Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland

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cocky bastard excerpt reveal

This is an exclusive sneak peek of COCKY BASTARD

I wondered if the vibration would feel good between my legs.

The sun caught the chrome of a Harley Davidson parked a few spots over, gleaming in the sweltering midday sun.  I waited until Maroon Five finished playing on the radio, oddly fixated on the two-wheeled-man-toy as I fished in my purse for my cell phone.  The motorcycle was simple—high gloss black and shiny silver, worn leather saddlebags with a skull embossed below the initials C.B. 

How good would it feel to ride?  Wind blowing through my long hair, arms wrapped around a man with a tough sounding nickname, engine purring beneath my jean clad thighs.  Horse?  Drifter?  Guns?  Wait.  No.  Pres.  My imaginary biker was most definitely called Pres.  And he’d look just like Charlie Hunnam.

I glanced down at my iPhone and found a half dozen new messages from Harrison.  Inwardly, I smirked.  Certainly, there is no one named Harrison that ever rode a Harley. Tossing my phone back in my bag, I cut the engine of my packed BMW and glanced behind me into the backseat.  Boxes piled to the ceiling were beginning to make my full-size car feel claustrophobic. 

A bus full of travelers pulled into the rest stop. Great. I’d better go in now and get my lunch, otherwise I’d never get out of here. Ten hours into a cross-country trip from Chicago to Temecula, California, I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska with about another twenty some odd hours to go.

After a fifteen-minute wait inside for Pepsi and Popeyes fried chicken bites that I planned to eat back in the car, I stopped into the small souvenir shop.  I was so tired and didn’t really feel like driving the additional five hours I had to go before finding a place to sleep for the night. Yawning, I decided to stall and browse for a few minutes.  Checking out some trinkets, I eventually picked up a Barack Obama bobblehead and shook it mindlessly, watching its maniacal smile as the head bounced up and down. 

“Get it. You know you want it,” a deep, raspy voice said from behind my shoulders. Startling me, it caused a knee-jerk reaction that resulted in the bobblehead slipping from my fingers and falling to the ground. The head broke off of the spring neck and rolled away.

The woman at the register shouted, “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to pay for that. Twenty dollars.”

“Damn it!” I spewed, following the path of the rolling head. As I bent down to pick it up, there was the voice again from behind me.

“And to think, some people say he’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He seemed to have an Australian accent.

“You think this is funny, asshole?” I asked before turning around and getting my first look at the man behind the voice.

I froze.

Oh. Shit.    

“You don’t need to be a fucking bitch about it.” His mouth curved into a wicked grin as he handed me the bottom half of Obama. “And for the record, I did think that was really funny, yes.”

I swallowed and seemed to lose my ability to speak as I took in the Adonis standing before me. I wanted to smack that cocky smile right off his face, though—his gorgeous, chiseled, scruffy face, framed by a thick head of copper-brown hair. Fuck me. This man was insanely hot, not someone I expected to come across out here. This was the middle of nowhere USA, not the Australian outback for Christ’s sake.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn’t think it was funny at all.”

“Then, you need to take the stick out of your arse and lighten up.” He reached out his hand. “Give it to me, Princess. I’ll pay for the damn thing.” Before I could respond, he grabbed the two broken pieces from me, and I cursed at the shiver that ran down my spine from the brief contact of his hand brushing against mine. Of course, he had to smell amazing on top of it all.

I followed him to the register as I fished through my messy purse for money, but he was too quick and had paid for it already.

He handed me a plastic bag containing the broken bobblehead. “There’s some change in the bag. Buy yourself a sense of humor.”

HUE-MA. That accent. 

My jaw dropped as he walked away and out of the store.

What an ass.

It was. A fine one. A thick, juicy, round ass hugged tightly by his jeans. God, I really needed to get laid, because it didn’t seem to matter that this guy had just insulted me to my face; my panties were practically wet.

After several minutes of staring into space at a shelf of Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirts, I gave myself a mental kick in the butt. My reaction to the incident proved that fatigue had gotten the best of me; I wasn’t usually that short-tempered. It was time to shake off the bizarre encounter and get moving. My stomach was growling, and I was looking forward to breaking into the fried chicken once I hit the road. I snuck a piece out of the box in my bag as I walked out of the building. My chewing ceased when I noticed him two spots down from my car—sitting on the very motorcycle I’d been fantasizing about earlier.

Approaching slowly, I hoped he didn’t notice me. No such luck. Instead, when he spotted me, he flashed an exaggerated smile and waved.

Frantically searching for my keys, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You again.”

He snickered. “Did you end up buying a sense of humor?”

“I used the change to buy you some couth instead.”

Chuckling, he shook his head at me.  Running his hand through his hair, he put his shiny black helmet on and cranked the Harley. The rumble shook me to my core.  

Getting in the car and slamming the door, I couldn’t help taking one last look over at him, seeing as though I’d never see this guy again in my lifetime. He winked through the helmet, and my pathetic heart fluttered.

I watched through the rear view mirror as he backed out of the spot. I expected him to take off like a bat out of hell, but after moving away slowly, he abruptly stopped. He kept trying to rev the bike to get it to move, but nothing was happening. Eventually turning off the engine, he removed his helmet and ran his hand through his hair in frustration before getting off to inspect things. I should have just left, but couldn’t take my eyes off him as he struggled to get it to run.  Man, that sucks.

I dipped one of the chicken bites into the honey mustard sauce and popped it into my mouth, continuing to watch this like a spectator sport for several minutes. At one point, he took out his phone and made a phone call as he paced back and forth.

Putting his phone away, he looked in my direction and glared at me. Caught in the act of watching him, I let out a nervous laugh. I didn’t mean to laugh at the situation, but it just came out. He raised his brow, and that made me cackle harder. He slowly walked toward me, clutching the helmet by his side. He knocked on my window, and I lowered it.

“You think this is funny, Princess?”

“Not really…maybe.” I snorted.

“Well, I’m glad you finally managed to find your sense of humor.”

HUE-MA.

God, his accent was sexy.

He arched his neck to look into the backseat and took notice of all the boxes. “You homeless or something? Living out of your car?”

“No. I’m in the middle of a cross-country move.”

“Where you headed?”

“Temecula.”

“California.” He nodded. “Me, too.”

I looked toward his Harley. “Well, it looks like you’re not exactly headed anywhere anytime soon. I guess it’s payback for calling me a bitch.”

“Well, that would seem to be the case.”

“That it’s payback?”

“No, that you’re a bitch.”

“Very funny.”

“You know what’s even better than payback?” he asked leaning into the window, his cologne intoxicating me.

“What?”

He wiggled his brows. “Karma.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come around and have a look at the back of your Beemer.”

BEE-MA.

I got out and walked around to the back of my car to find my right rear tire was completely flat.

What? This cannot be happening.

With my hand on my forehead, I looked over at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? Did you know my tire was flat all this time?”

“I noticed it right around the time I caught you popping chicken and laughing at me, yes. It was real hard for me to keep a straight face at that point.”

I didn’t know how to change a tire to save my life. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask of him.

“Do you know how to change a tire?”

“Of course I do. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t know how to change a tire?”

“Will you help me? I know you have no reason to want to…after our little altercation, but I’m seriously desperate. I don’t want to be stuck out here all alone at night.”

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Okay…”

He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “How badly do you want your tire changed?”

I backed away from him. “What exactly are you getting at?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart. I’m not fucking propositioning you if that’s what you think. You’re not my type.”

“And what exactly is your type?”

“I typically go for women who don’t have the personality of a door knob.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

“So, what are your conditions?”

“Well, as you clearly know from your laughing fit, my Harley is experiencing a technical malfunction at the moment. It needs a part that I don’t have. I just called a tow company. But I’m on a deadline, and like you, I need to get to California.”

“You’re not suggesting…”

“Yes. Yes, I am. If I change your tire, you let me ride with you.”

“Ride with me?”

“Ride me, yes.”

“What did you just say?”

“You’re hearing things.”

I shook my head to rid the images now flashing through it. Did my tired mind only imagine that he just said that, or was he messing with me? 

“I cannot drive hundreds of miles with a total stranger,” I said.

“It’s a fuck of a lot safer than driving alone.”

“Not if you’re a serial killer!”

“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who decapitated a U.S. president.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was seriously insane.

“Holy shit, Princess, is that a laugh at your own expense, I see?”

“I think you’re making me delirious.”

He stuck out his hand. “So, you in?”

I crossed my arms instead of taking it. “What choice do I have?”

“Well, you could always have him change your tire.” He gestured to a large and scary-looking man who seemed to be watching us. This guy looked like Herman Munster in the flesh.

Letting out a deep breath, I conceded. “I’m in. I’m in! Just get me out of here.”

“I thought you might say that. Please tell me you have a spare.”

“Yeah. But I have to move some of my boxes so you can get to it.”

He started to crack up when he got a load of the situation inside my trunk. “Damn, what the hell is all this crap?”

I looked into his eyes and answered honestly, “My entire life.”

I temporarily piled the contents of the trunk onto the pavement. He got the spare out and immediately got to work.

As he was changing the tire, his white t-shirt rode up, exposing his tanned, rock-hard abs and a thin trail of hair that ran into his underwear line. Unwanted tension built between my legs. I needed a distraction, so I walked over to his bike and sat on it, gripping the handles and imagining what it would be like to ride in the wind. But all I could envision now was him in front of me, and that wasn’t helping.

He slid his body from under my car. “Be careful, little girl. That’s not a toy.”

I hopped off and ran my finger along the letters emblazoned on the saddlebags. “What’s C.B. stand for anyway?”

“Those are my initials.”

“Let me guess…Cocky Bastard?”

“See…I would have told you my name, but since you’re so clever, I think I’ll just let you guess.”

“Whatever, Cocky.”

He lay back down on the ground. “I’m just tightening up these nuts, and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Nuts?”

“Lug nuts…on the wheel, dirty girl.”

“Oh.”

Hopping up, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe his forehead. “All set.”

Damn.

“That was quick. Are you sure it’s on right?”

“I’ve got a few screws loose, darling, as you’ll soon find out, but none of them are on your wheel.” He winked and for the first time, I noticed his dimples. “We should probably stop tomorrow and get a new tire put on. This spare is really not meant for long term use.”

Tomorrow. Wow. This was really happening.

“We should get going,” I said. “I’ll drive. I need to be in control of this situation.”

“Whatever you want,” he said.

I could feel the tension in my neck as I backed out of the spot. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. He wasted no time digging into my chicken bites.

I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey, lay off my food.”

“Honey mustard? I prefer barbecue.” He licked his thumb, and I swore at myself for getting turned on a little. This was going to be a long ride.

He smirked and lifted the plastic bag from the souvenir shop. “Did you even open it?”

“No. What’s the point? It’s just a broken bobblehead.”

Handing it to me, he said, “Is it?”

With one hand on the steering wheel, I took out the bobblehead which was…in one piece.

“What the…how did you?”

“You seemed to like it, so I paid for the other and bought you a different one. You were too busy looking through your purse to notice.”

I couldn’t help but smile and shook my head.

“Well, whaddya know. A genuine smile.” He held out his hand. “Here…gimme.” When, I handed it to him, he took an adhesive strip off the bottom and stuck it to the dash. Obama’s head was now bopping up and down with every movement of the car.

I broke out in laughter at the ridiculousness but also couldn’t help the warm feeling that came over me with that sweet gesture. Maybe he wasn’t really a bastard at all.

We were quiet for a while as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. Somewhere along I-76 after the sun set into a bright orange glow that illuminated the horizon in the distance, he turned to me. 

His voice was groggy. “I’m Chance.”

After several seconds of silence, I said, “Aubrey.”

“Aubrey,” he repeated in a breathy whisper, seeming to contemplate my name before closing his eyes again and turning his head away. 

Chance.

We hope you enjoyed this extended preview!

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cocky bastard cover

RELEASE DATE: August 17th, 2015

Blurb

He was someone who belonged in my wildest fantasies instead of a rest stop in the middle of Nebraska.

A sexy, cocky, Australian named Chance was the last person I expected to run into on my cross-country drive.

When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours.

My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense.

I wanted him, but Chance wouldn’t make a move. I thought he wanted me too, but something was holding him back.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the cocky bastard, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.
cocky bastard teaser 1

About the Authors:

Vi Keeland

vi keeland

Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn’t change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

Beat

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Throb

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MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)

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Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

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Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)

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The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

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Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

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Standalone novels

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

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First Thing I See

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Meet Penelope Ward

PENELOPE WARD

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 10-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

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Other books from Penelope Ward

Stepbrother Dearest

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Gemini

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Jake Undone (Jake #1)

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My Skylar

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Jake Understood (Jake #2)

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Excerpt Reveal: Bleeding Love (Hope Town #2) by Harper Sloan

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bleeding love excerpt reveal

Bleeding Love by Harper Sloan
Excerpt 

“Last chance,” he tells me with a wicked grin.  “And this time I mean last one, darlin’.  We take this step and make no doubt about it, you will be mine.  You give me this and I fucking promise you that I will never make you regret taking that step.  You ready to jump from that chapter you’ve been skimming through and skip into mine?”

I give him a smile, one that is full of confidence and not the least bit unsure as the words that he had told me weeks before come back between us.

“I’m ready.”

“Fuck,” he groans.  “Buckle up, baby.”

My smile doesn’t slip for a second.  Not when I pull my belt across my chest.  Not when he slams the door and races to his own.  It grows wider when he slams the truck in drive and fishtails back onto the path that will take us back toward town.  It isn’t until his big hand reaches out and takes my leg in his strong hold that my smile slips slightly, but it only slips because my head falls back and I whimper and try to rub my legs together to ease the ache between them.  I lose the smile completely when my mouth drops open and that whimper turns into a loud whine as his long fingers dance up my legs until he slips beneath the hem on my shorts and pushes my panties to the side, pressing against my clit in sure movements that have me panting in seconds.

“Fucking drenched,” he grounds out through his tightly clamped teeth.

I roll my head against the headrest and look across the cab at his face.  His finger dips from my swollen clit and as he drops his hand lower, his wrist twists slightly so that when he gets there his finger slides deep inside me.

My legs spread instantly when his thick finger fills me and I hear his rumbled groan fill the space around us as he slides his finger as deep as his position allows before pulling it back, then repeating his movements until I can feel myself soaking his hand.  If he keeps this up, I won’t last.  He adds a second finger and my hand digs into the door and I reach out, wrapping my other around his forearm and choke on shattered breaths when he thrusts his fingers so deep, I feel like I’ve been electrocuted as he hits that spot that has me panting, whimpering and begging incoherently.

“Please, Lee, please,” I pant.  How I formed those words, I’ll never know.

“Fuck,” he snarls, the sound making my arousal spike even higher.  “You’ll call me that when I’m so deep inside you my balls will be soaked with this sweetness.”

His fingers curl and I pant, my hand cramping around the force of my grip.

“Please, oh God.  Not without you, please.”

I pray he understands my plea and when he curses, I know he gets me.  His hand leaves my pants and I cry out, causing him to spit out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.  His leg slams down and I feel the truck pick up speed as I watch him take his fingers to his mouth and lick every drop of my wetness from his skin.

“Holy shit,” I exhale.

“You’re getting my mouth first, darlin’.  That wasn’t enough of a taste and fuck me, I’m starved.”

I say nothing, just continue to feel like my heart is about to slam from my chest as I continue to shift my legs back and forth in attempt to ease the burn he’s lit between my legs.

bleeding love pre-orderMeet Liam & Megan in the newest stand alone

in the Hope Town Series by Harper Sloan!

Releasing:  July 14th

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1RiNskm

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1NPEUMz

Nook: http://bit.ly/1HKBNX7

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000039_00005]

I’ve loved once. I gave everything that I had to that love. Blindly believing that nothing could ever take that feeling away from me. Away from us. And when my little world of happiness was ripped from my fingers, I felt a loss that still haunts me to this day.

Now I use that lingering grief as a shield to keep my heart from loving again. It’s that fear that keeps me from letting anyone, except my daughter, get close enough to make it hurt. To make my heart bleed when I inevitably lose again.

Until the day I met Liam Beckett and everything I thought I had protected myself from was shoved back in my face.

He’s on a mission to prove to me that a love worth having is a love worth fighting for.  

bleeding love teaser 2

About the Author:

Harper lives in small town Georgia just a short drive from her hometown of Peachtree City. She (and her 3 daughters) enjoy ruling the house they dubbed ‘Estrogen Ocean’, much to her husband’s chagrin. Harper has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books; you can almost ALWAYS find her with her eReader attached. She enjoys bad reality TV and cheesy romantic flicks. Her favorite kind of hero–the super alpha kind!

Harper started using writing as a way to unwind when the house went to sleep at night; and with a house full of crazy it was the perfect way to just relax. It didn’t take long before a head full of very demanding alphas would stop at nothing to have their story told.

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Excerpt Reveal: Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3) by Lisa Renee Jones

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forsaken excerpt

 

Excerpt 

It’s nearly eight in the evening when I take the elevator to our secure, key-coded floor and enter the suite, where I immediately hear, “Chad! Is that you?”

Angry, I grab the chair in front of the door and shove it aside.

“Oh, thank God,” Gia gushes, flinging her arms around my neck. “You’re in one piece.”

Stunned by her greeting, by the way her sweet curves meld against me, I fight the heat rushes through me, untangling her grip and pressing her hands against the wall. “Tell me what you know about my sister,” I demand.

“Nothing, Chad. I told you that. Is she—was she—”

“You know I didn’t find her.”

“I wanted you to find her. I was terrified for you.”

Anger expands in me, seeping into my veins, and on some level, I know it’s not about Gia at all, or maybe I just fear it will be about her. I don’t want to trust her and be wrong. “You barely know me.”

“I know you’re in pain. I know what being alone feels like, and I know that’s what you feel right now.”

Alone.

It’s a word that pierces my heart with guilt. It’s what I know my sister has felt for six long years. I was all she had, the only one she could count on, even if she didn’t know I was there—and I failed her. The pain is a seed that grows and expands inside me in an instant, and suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly, the idea of being betrayed by Gia is not as biting as the idea of failing her as well. My hands come down on her face, and I stare at her. “I have money and resources to hide you, and I promise you, no one will find you. But I won’t be there with you. I’m poison to anyone near me. You can’t forget that. I can’t forget that.”

I don’t give her time to reply. My mouth closes down on hers, my tongue pressing past her lips, stroking and stroking again, in what is instantly an aggressive, searching kiss. She moans, and I swear the sound of her moan shatters a piece of my soul that is already bleeding for my sister. In this moment, it feels like all I have left is this woman. 

forsaken er 1

 

forsaken preorder

Meet Chad in the newest addition to The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series by Lisa Renee Jones!

Now available for Pre-order!

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Pre-order Forsaken and Unbroken and receive exclusive content leading up to the release and super special bonus content after the release of Unbroken as well. You can find the form here – http://lisareneejones.com/pre-order-promotion/

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foresaken

Blurb

In this third book in the sexy, suspenseful “The Secret Life of Amy Bensen” series from New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones, we meet Amy’s brother Chad—and the woman who either loves him or wants him dead.

Six years ago, Chad’s hunt for a dangerous treasure turned deadly when his family home was set on fire, his parents killed. Faking his and his sister Amy’s death to protect her from further retaliation, he set her up in a new life with a friend’s help, letting her believe he’d died.

But now the men who hired Chad to find the treasure have found him, imprisoning and torturing him to learn where it’s hidden. A dark-haired beauty named Gia helps him escape, promising him access to his worst enemy. And as he tries to unravel the deep secrets of the past, he starts falling for her…only to discover she’s not what she seems.

Unable to trust anyone, Chad focuses on only two things: protecting his sister Amy and getting revenge. Is love even possible in the midst of heartache?

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For More information on The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series page including: buy links, and excerpts for the previous two and also upcoming releases.  Visit Lisa’s website here: http://bit.ly/AmyBensen

About the Author:

lisa renee jonesNew York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT SERIES, and is now in development by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland) for cable TV. In addition, her Tall, Dark and Deadly series and The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series, both spent several months on a combination of the NY Times and USA Today lists.

Watch the video on casting for the INSIDE TV Show HERE

Since beginning her publishing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than 40 books translated around the world. Booklist says that Jones suspense truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann.

Prior to publishing, Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by Dallas Women Magazine. In 1998 LRJ was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at on her website and she is active on twitter and facebook daily.

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