






















About Restored:

Can a reformed player ever truly play by someone else’s rules?
Sam Walsh has finally put an end to decades of self-destruction, turned over a healthy new leaf, and now he’s ready to call himself a married man. But love and marriage are only the beginning, and life is about to get much more complicated.
Will tying the knot tie down a free spirit?
Tiel Desai never imagined herself getting married again, and before she can blink, she’s swept up into the Walsh wedding whirlwind. If that chaos isn’t enough, she’s also busy winning over her future in-laws, grappling with a bumpy adjustment to her new job, and staying afloat when a string of disappointments hit.
They’re building a future, but can they ever fully demolish the past?
Sam and Tiel beat back their demons and learned to love each other, but love might not be enough to solve every problem that crawls their way.
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Exclusive Excerpt:
Tiel leaned into me, nodding toward the kitchen, and whispered, “You ready?”
I blew out a long breath and frowned. Riley was seated at the table, the sports section of the newspaper spread out before him. He was eating cereal out of a two-quart mixing bowl, and he was naked save for his Batman boxers.
“Can we wait until he’s clothed?” I asked. His dress shirt, tie, and khakis were hanging off the back of the chair to his right. “I mean, I know we see his dick a lot—”
“A lot,” Tiel murmured, her lips pursing.
“Yeah, I don’t enjoy knowing that you can draw it from memory, sweetheart,” I said, exasperated. My brother preferred loincloth living, and my patience for that was waning.
“Come on,” she said, tangling her fingers with mine.
My thumb traced the hard lines of her ring. Her engagement ring. It had only been seated at that spot for twenty-four hours, and I was still high on the primal thrill of conquest.
She chose me, she wanted me, she was keeping me.
“The deal was we tell Riley before we tell the rest of your family, and then we tell my family, although I still contend they’ll say something offensive about the Irish but otherwise not be able to find a single shit to give. Actually,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I don’t think we should bother telling my parents anything. Send them an invite, and be shocked if they show up.”
“That’s not one of the options,” I said.
Riley growled at the newspaper and muttered, “Those motherfuckers need to get their offensive line together,” before refilling his bowl.
“He’s like our first baby,” she said, dropping her head to my chest. “We’re getting real parenting experience. From a twenty-eight year old.”
“Well…” I was about to protest that Riley often appointed himself as den mother and had done a decent job of looking after me when I’d refused to look after myself, but then he spilled milk all over his bare chest and mopped it up with his tie.
I rubbed my knuckles down her belly. “I’ve got time if you want to work on our next baby.”
She dipped her chin, smiling. “We worked pretty hard yesterday,” she said. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the job done.”
This.
I wanted this. I wanted to stop talking about starting a family someday and make it a reality today.
It was one of the most ridiculous thoughts living in my head—and I had a lot of fucking odd thoughts up there—because I’d never imagined this for myself. Under no construct had my future ever included a wife, children, or anything beyond functional alcoholism and a thinly leashed contempt for the universe as I knew it.

About Kate Canterbary:
Kate Canterbary doesn’t have it all figured out, but this is what she knows for sure: spicy-ass salsa and tequila solve most problems, living on the ocean–Pacific or Atlantic–is the closest place to perfection, and writing smart, smutty stories is a better than any amount of chocolate. She started out reporting for an indie arts and entertainment newspaper back when people still read newspapers, and she has been writing and surreptitiously interviewing people–be careful sitting down next to her on an airplane–ever since. Kate lives on the water in New England with Mr. Canterbary and the Little Baby Canterbary, and when she isn’t writing sexy architects, she’s scheduling her days around the region’s best food trucks.
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A long time ago, on a playground far, far away, an awkward boy with two mothers and a penchant for pink shirts shook a tough girl’s hand over the rattled frame of a deposed playground bully.
Tamsyn promised to be Rodrigo’s bodyguard if he’d draw her pictures of girls wearing superhero capes. Rodrigo promised to be Tamsyn’s buddy if she’d let him braid her hair.
A deal, struck. A partnership, forged. And the timid gay boy and the fearless straight girl became inseparable.
Now college graduation looms, and Rodrigo questions his place in the world. He has no boyfriend. No job. And a sudden—arousing—fascination with the female body. Correction: with Tamsyn’s body.
Then one night, a golden ticket from a broken piñata introduces him to the man he’s wanted for years. Now he’s torn between pursuing these strange feelings for Tamsyn or following the guy of his dreams.
Best friends forever.
If love doesn’t break them up first.

***



***

Seven Slade is the seventh Slade of seven Slades. A native of the seventh largest city on one of the seven continents, Seven is seven times more likely to eat tacos on a Saturday than on a Tuesday. Seven wrote seven other books as someone else you may have heard of, but don’t let that distract you. It’s totally irrelevant. Seven’s favorite number is eight.

***

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Beau Loup’s world is taken by storm when Scarlet Fair appears in his life.
Her wild red hair haunts his thoughts and her luscious body makes his blood hum with life. She’s the first woman to break him of his self-imposed seclusion to make him feel things he never dreamed possible. But she’s all wrong for him.
Private schools and garden parties fill the world Scarlet lives in, and Beau is a rough man with a craving that consumes. When he realizes she may be the only woman with the ability to soften his hard edges, he’s determined to show her how a real man loves a woman, and then maybe he can convince her to stay for life. He’ll do anything to be her everything and he’s bent on making Little Red his. In his mind she already is.
Warning: What happens when the big, bad wolf meets the sweet, redhead of his dreams? Hold onto your panties because we’re about to find out!
ONE
Scarlet
I stepped off the train, nerves twisting in my stomach as I looked for a cab. I juggled the duffel on my shoulder and swiped at the sticky heat dampening my forehead. It’d been a few years since I’d been to Gran’s house, summer jobs and studies taking up most of my time these days, but when she’d fallen sick, I knew I had to see her.
I’d dropped everything and cleared my schedule, determined to be there for her all summer. Her frail voice had insisted that she was fine, she didn’t need any help, but I’d refused to hear otherwise. I’d missed her desperately, and I’d let life run away from me, forgetting what was really important. It was time I slowed down, appreciate the old home where I’d spent my childhood summers, and soak up all the love Gran had to give.
A yellow cab sped up to the curb, the driver getting out of the cab and coming around for my bags. I rattled off the address of the old estate before sliding into the back seat, the driver packing my bags in the trunk before getting behind the wheel.
“We’ll be there in approximately twelve minutes, ma’am.”
I shot him a smile. My whole body was drained, and my mind was exhausted, but still excitement coursed through me as all the joyful memories of childhood started to emerge.
My Gran, the greatest woman I know, ninety-two years young and so full of life. Going to her house has always been one of my most favorite summer traditions, but now the idea of going there made me sick with grief and sadness. I was going to my grandmother’s house to say goodbye before the cancer made her too frail and weak. I knew I shouldn’t be so sad⎯she had a full life of utter joy⎯ βυτ at one point, old age can’t be kept at bay any longer. My grandmother was my best friend. She was a sassy sweet soul, and I wanted to spend all the time possible with her before she was gone.
I glanced down at my lap, where I held a box of pastries purchased at a small Parisian bakery we both loved. My lips formed a smile as the memories of those Sundays, of spending hours in the kitchen secretly eating all these delicious baked confections, flooded my mind. The various flavors and types of pastry were to blame for the extra twenty pounds around my middle.
The car rolled to a stop, and the cab driver got out, opening my door for me. I stepped out onto the stone driveway and peered up at the beautiful brick building that housed so many of my favorite childhood memories. Large, creamy pillars decorated either side of the two-story entry, a wide wraparound porch inviting visitors to stay and have a cup of coffee while overlooking the beautiful, impeccably manicured landscape. The view was breathtaking. It was like looking at a priceless piece by Monet. It was captivating and breathtaking.
“Scarlet!” The excited call from Darla blared from the vast front door. Darla was in her late forties with flawless skin and a soft frame. Her smile was as bright as the sun on a hot summer day, and equally inviting. I ran to her and hugged her fiercely. I had always loved her and her vibrant personality. I had missed her almost as much as I missed Nana.
“Oh, my pretty girl, I have missed you so much. I see you brought some baked goodies. I’ve been watching my figure, but you know how I never could resist those sweets. I swear since working for your gran I’ve gained fifty pounds. She is going to be so happy to see you, darling. I think you are exactly what she needs to lift her spirit.” Darla twisted a lock of my hair between her fingers. “You always had the most beautiful red curls. My sweet girl, how was your trip?”
“I’ve missed you, too, Darla. I may have brought some of those apple turnovers you love so much,” I whispered conspiratorially.
“This is going to be such a fantastic summer. Oh, and wait till you see the new looker that works for your gran. If only I was a few years younger.” She chuckled, and her deep laugh bounced merrily off the walls. When Darla laughed, the world took notice. Like Santa Claus at the mall with a young child on his lap, her laugh was pure joy.
I found it a little sad that Gran hadn’t greeted me upon my arrival. That she wasn’t here hugging and kissing me meant only one thing: her illness had gotten worse and now she couldn’t physically afford to disobey her doctor. At least I had Darla to make me feel a little more at home. “How is she, Darla?” My voice was laced with sadness and worry.
“She has good days and bad ones. But she is still just as feisty and fiery.” Darla smiled and winked at me as her eyes twinkled with mischief. Even though Darla was making light of the situation, I knew it was only for my benefit. It was a ruse to keep my spirits up.
After putting away my clothes and washing up in the bathroom after the long train ride, I wandered into the large bedroom that was still a shrine to my childhood, Gran had everything from my childhood out for display. I smiled that everything had remained as I left if the only thing that changed was my single bed was now upgraded to an opulent king sized version. I smiled, looking at all the trinkets from my childhood. Gran sure was teetering on borderline hoarder. I smiled cherishing all the love and devotion my Gran felt toward me, my whole life she had been my biggest champion and supporter.
By afternoon, I was disappointed that I had yet to see Gran, but Darla had told me that she slept a lot now due to the medication the doctors had given her. I decided to take a walk around the grounds to dispel me from my dark thoughts and look at the new beautiful landscaping. Whoever the new landscaper was, he had a very detailed eye. Everything was beautiful and perfectly arranged.
I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t seen all this in the past years. My friends, school, and Summer activities became more important at times, and my family took a backseat. You only realize the mistakes you are making when it’s too late. I trailed my fingertips over the perfectly manicured hedge. I turned the corner and ran right into what seemed to be a wall but was in fact a giant, burly man. I stumbled, my arms thrusting out, and was about to fall flat on my behind when suddenly, two strong, rock-solid arms surrounded me. They wrapped around my waist, and stunning green eyes pierced right through me before his lips parted and he breathed, “Are you okay? ” His deep voice pounded through my ears, the sprinkling of an accent registering, and I remembered Darla’s comments about the French landscaper. My heart thundered as I lay speechless in his arms, swallowing the utter shock and surprise I felt. His emerald dark gaze held mine for another long beat, his touch on my body the only thing I could feel. I trembled with the new sensations pulsing through me.
“Wow, your arms are huge…” I breathed and instantly wanted to go back in time a few minutes to erase the stupid words that had raced out of my mouth.
I was unable to say anything else, my eyes still trained on his.
His beautiful mouth curled into a crooked grin before his grip tightened around my waist and he hauled me against his body. “But they sure came in handy, didn’t they?”
His words fell upon deaf ears. All I could think and feel was his body, this giant, stunning man holding me against him. His grip tightened again at that moment, almost taking my breath away. His presence was overwhelming, his broad shoulders and chiseled biceps stretching the thin fabric of his white T-shirt.
I’d never seen a man like this before. He was broad and formidable, and I felt remarkably small wrapped up in his arms. I peered up at his face, which was just as stunning as his stature. A dark, well-kept beard and nearly jet black hair had me aching to feel the strands beneath my fingers.
“I’m Beau Loup,” he whispered as a small smile curved his lips. His words danced around the air between us, my mind too scattered at that moment to say anything profound.
“I am Scarlet Fair. My gran owns the house,” I introduced myself, feeling his gaze flutter across my skin, setting it on fire as he went.
“Mm, glad to make your acquaintance, Ms. Fair.” His gaze finally landed on mine again. His intense stare penetrating me to my very core. “I hope to see more of you.” His words twisted in the wind, his tone and the wicked gleam in his eyes implying so much more. This man had a roguish charm about him, and if I wasn’t careful I would fall as his prey.
“Well, if you work here, it seems you will.” I pulled from his embrace and missed the warmth instantly. Beau Loup didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Something about him was welcoming. Oddly enough, he reminded me of my father− big, rough, but completely kind-hearted.
“Work and live.” His words pulled me from my thoughts.
“You live here?” I nearly swallowed my tongue.
His eyes rose in amusement before he answered. “I’ve got a place out back. Ms. Fair sold a corner lot to me a while ago.”
I nodded slowly, my eyes tracing the stark lines of rigid muscle decorating his body. I could feel my face getting flushed. I twisted my hands together, my skin prickling with aroused awareness. “It was nice to meet you, Beau. I hope to run into you again.”
“I’m sure you will.” He took my hand in his and lifted it to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss there, his gaze shooting a blaze of fire straight into my core, and his words hung in the air as he winked at me. Why wasn’t he leaving? Shoo, will you? At that moment I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to leave. This man had me trapped, and I needed to get out. “Well, I must be going.” I quickly snatched my hand back from him and spun around so fast that I almost tripped. I noticed him lurch to catch me, and his face had lost that devastating smile, it now seemed to be marred with concern and worry. Just as quickly as that worry came, it vanished when he saw I hadn’t fallen.
I swiftly ran off before I could embarrass myself any further. “Until next time, petite rouge.” As the distance grew between us, I could still hear his laughter following me.
Sensations raced across my skin, curling my toes and prickling the hairs on the nape of my neck. The feeling of immediate danger seemed to course it’s way through my body, as if raging and combusting in my bloodstream.

Hot Alpha Alert!!!
Beau is smoking hot! The ONLY thing I found lacking was wishing I could actually hear his voice saying the words… Although considering I’d read/listen at work, maybe that’s not such a good idea….
Scarlet or Little Red is immediately overtaken by Beau’s essence once she meets him. Scarlet is more shy and reserved and that almost attracts Beau more. Once he figures out that Scarlet is IT for him, he pulls out all the guns to make her realize she’s his.
A quick, hot, steamy fairytale with a yummy alpha hero. Exactly what I know and expect from Aria Cole books. And this one meets the mark!
5 stars!
Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.
Aria’s new release BLACK is the first in her modern fairy tale series. For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn’t take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
Follow Aria on Amazon for new release updates, or stalk her on Facebook and Twitter to see which daring book boyfriend she’s writing next!
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by Mignon Mykel
Prescott#1
Publication Date: August 8, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance
Synopsis: Hockey’s most eligible bachelor must run interference to get the one girl he can’t have.
Sydney:
I’d never even heard of Caleb Prescott, God’s gift to hockey. Who watches hockey anyways? Not me, I’m too busy with college and work. My part-time just for fun job has now asked me to recruit this player for a new dating show. Sounds easy enough. . .until he insists I become part of the show.
Caleb:
I only agreed to compete on the dating show to get closer to Sydney—the redhead pixie I’d do anything to see again. But unlike the women competing for my affection, or the puck bunnies desperate for my attention, Sydney isn’t impressed by my hockey skills. I never miss a shot, I don’t care if she calls interference, I’ll do anything to win her heart.
Caleb
I shouldn’t have gone out last night with Jonny.
I pulled my pillow from under my head and, face planting into the mattress, and pushed the sides as close to my ears as possible. Anything to block out the annoying ring of my cell phone.
Last night the San Diego Enforcers, the team my brother and I played for, won. As was tradition, Jon Jon and I went out on the town. Sometimes the other guys on the team would come along but for the most part, it was just me and the brother. Back in midgets, mom would take us to McDonald’s; in college, the one year he and I were there at the same time, we would party in my dorm. Now, we went out, partied long and hard, and of course, shut it down. Most of the bartenders looked the other way with Jonny’s age; we knew which places to go to and which bartenders worked what nights. We could always find a good time.
Both Jonny and I had been drafted to San Diego.
During my senior year of college, Jonny’s freshman year, we both walked into training camp as college kids with great stats, and walked out with spots on the roster. Sure, the Prescott name means something to the organization, but Jonny was a damn good goaltender, and my stats were better than dad’s in the respect he didn’t touch majors until he was in his mid-twenties, having played in the American league for a few years beforehand.
Last night’s win meant the Enforcers were that much closer to Sir Stanley and his Cup. Finals were well within our reach. All we had to do was win Tuesday night’s game and we’d make it into the next round. It was a close series, but the odds were in our favor. With Jonny in net, Vegas had to pull all the punches to get the puck past him.
I sighed blissfully when my phone finally stopped ringing, but just as I was about to drop off that sharp edge of sleep, Jonny slammed my bedroom door open. I lifted the pillow enough to look back over my shoulder at the intrusion, watching as my boxer-clad brother tossed the land line phone onto my bed, bouncing off my hamstring – a little too close for comfort. “Fucking asshole.”
Jonny merely raised a dark blond brow. Oh, the perks of sharing a condo with your younger brother.
I guess it could be worse. My sisters weren’t exactly the easiest to live with.
“Next time wake up and answer your damn phone,” Jonny grumbled. “There’s a lady on the other end, and I don’t think she much appreciated my sarcasm.”
I reached back for the phone with one hand as I tossed the pillow aside with the other, before shooting Jonny the bird. As I put the phone to my ear, I watched my twenty year old brother shuffle back toward his own room. “Caleb,” I said on the exhale of a tired sigh.
“Um, hi,” came the voice on the other end. Female, like Jonny said. Not high pitch, but not as sexy, throaty as some female voices were. Nervous, maybe. I didn’t think I knew her voice, and the landline number was pretty locked down, so she couldn’t be some weird stalker chick. I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. Way too much thinking for this hour.
“I’m so sorry that this seems to be an inopportune time. I figured you’d be up and moving as it’s ten.” Was it ten already? “I thought that was the time you started practice on game days. I’m on a tight deadline and was really hoping to just leave a message.” Ah, she didn’t expect to actually talk to me.
“And this is…” I stated–not asked–before yawning.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again. “My name is Sydney Meadows and I’m calling on behalf of Sorenson Media Group. I tried to reach you through your agent, but he directed me straight to you.”
I made a mental note to talk to Mark the first chance I got. He really needed to stop directing people to me. Wasn’t that his job? To figure out what appearances and gigs were best for his athletes when they weren’t doing what they were being paid to do?
“We are putting together a reality television series, and you are one of the names we were interested in having involved with the show,” she stated in a rehearsed manner.
As I didn’t think sleep was going be coming back to me anytime soon, I rolled over to my back before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. As I stood, I shook my head. “Yeah, sorry. No reality TV.”
“If you’d just let me pitch it to you—“
“That’s all you’re going to be doing, Miss Meadows. Do you really want to waste your breath? I’m not doing television.”
“That’s fine,” she rushed to say. As she began talking about multiple women and just as many dates, I strode naked to my dresser to pull out a pair of old, worn sweatpants. I pulled them on while listening with one ear. She continued to talk so I continued to move, walking out of my room and down the hall that was home to both mine and Jonny’s rooms, a spare room, and a bathroom, before walking barefooted down the stairs. Whenever she’d pause for an answer, I was sure to give a barely verbal ‘mmhm’ just so she would continue her rant and be closer to done.
I had sisters. I knew how to work a phone call with the long-winded female species.
“So great,” she said finally with a smile evident in her voice, so unlike the unsure tone at the beginning of our conversation, one-sided as it mostly was. “I will meet you tonight after your game. Thank you so much, Caleb. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.”
Standing in front of the fridge now, I frowned when I heard the telltale sign of her ending the call. I pulled the phone from my ear only to stare down at the ‘call ended’ screen, the frown not going anywhere.
Well shit…
What did I just agree to?
Synopsis: Before the Prescott name became big in the hockey world, there was just Noah Prescott, fighting for a spot on an NHL roster. Never did he imagine a simple note from a shy fan would speed up his world.
Ryleigh Scott had an issue talking to men, but she knew she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to Noah — potentially negative labels, be damned. Never did she imagine a simple note would start what could only be described as the beginning of the rest of her life.
This is Noah and Ryleigh — before the NHL contract, before the kids, before going back home.
This is Noah and Ryleigh from the beginning.
Mignon is a twenty-something (…getting awfully close to thirty-something) who resides in Wisconsin. An avid reader since her preschool days, she ‘blames’ her mother for teaching her to read during that all-important time during a forming brain. Some of her earlier memories of reading include her mother buying her a book at the mall — and finishing the book before they even returned home.
Writing happened soon after the reading started. Her first writing piece can be found in a box of other important papers from growing up. It’s about an apple who was her friend, but she had to eat.
The first series Mignon started to write was about a close family of one brother and his three younger sisters. She started writing this family and their friends in 2005, but as soon as the Prescott family took over her mind, the Ashbys fell silent. Maybe someday we’ll all hear from the Ashbys, but those Prescotts…. The Prescotts are excited to have their stories told.
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A smokin’ hot British player…
A jilted girl…
One night of mistaken identity…
★★ PURCHASE Filthy English Today!★★
Amazon: http://amzn.to/29BzcT8
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/29tOO7q
*A modern love story inspired by Romeo and Juliet*

Blurb
Two weeks before her wedding, Remi Montague’s fiancé drops her faster than a drunken sorority girl in stilettos. Armed with her best friend and a bottle of tequila, she hops a plane to London to drown her sorrows before fall semester begins at Whitman University.
She didn’t plan on attending a masquerade party.
She sure didn’t plan on waking up next to the British bad boy who broke her heart three years ago—the devastatingly handsome and naked Dax Blay. Furthermore, she has no clue how they acquired matching tattoos.
Once back at Whitman together, they endeavor to pretend they never had their night of unbridled passion in London.
But that’s damn hard to do when you live in the same house…
One night. Two damaged hearts. The passion of a lifetime.

English Series
Dirty English (English #1)
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New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroes in books. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.
She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.
When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
You can stalk her on her website as well as get signed books: http://www.ilsamaddenmills.com
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IG: https://instagram.com/ilsamaddenmills/
Twitter: @ilsamaddenmills
Ilsa Madden-Mills’ other books:
VERY BAD THINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1RH9CJY
iBooks: http://apple.co/1gl5Yaj
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1D0BVw5
VERY WICKED BEGINNINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1K5NvX8
VERY WICKED THINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NvRIr5
iBooks: http://apple.co/1mVS3Wo
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1C9EZt3
VERY TWISTED THINGS
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1cvvkkh
iBooks: http://apple.co/1eN7Clh
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1BHcK4R
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“Emotions are involved, hearts are broken, and clarity comes to light but in the end…:” 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟Star from Author Skye Turner
“Stress, Agony and lots of hot Weston scenes made the book a great read!!!” – 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Star from Twinsie Talks
She currently lives in Central New York with her husband, two children, two dogs, and three cats. When she’s not writing she can usually be found at the dance studio, soccer field, or one of the many other places that she plays ‘Supermom’.
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by Lorelei Moone
Publication Date: July 6, 2016
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, BBW
Synopsis: What would you do if on your way home from your boring work, all of a sudden a handsome stranger leaps into the back of your car and asks you to drive him to the airport?
Be terrified? Threaten him and hope he gets out and leaves you alone? Those were my first instincts as well.
There was something in his eyes, something in the words he said that made me pause though. What if this beautiful man really did need my help? What if my refusal meant not only that his safety hung in the balance, but that of the entire country? So I drove him to Heathrow Airport, and my adventure began…

Man of Mystery is a multi-part novella. All parts are included in the book so you don’t have to wait on a hellish cliffhanger. Which I LOVE.
Tess is just an everyday woman who works a job she doesn’t like with a coworker who constantly steals credit for Tess’ work. Until Liam jumps in to her back seat.
Liam is an agent who is working on a secret mission. Yes, Tess thinks that sounds like a B-movie plotline. But it’s actually true. Tess instinctively knows to believe Liam and believe in him. Even when everything sounds like he’s bonkers, Tess still believes in him.
Liam ends up getting Tess involved and is then reprimanded by his boss for involving a civilian. So he backs off from Tess. But Tess seems to have a penchant for getting in trouble or finding trouble.
This was a quick read that sort of made me think of James Bond or Austen Powers. With romance of course.
4 stars!
Lorelei Moone is an up-and-coming author of paranormal romance & romantic suspense novels based in London. Her first book, Scottish Werebear: An Unexpected Affair has hit the virtual shelves on Amazon on 25 September 2015, and her second, Scottish Werebear: A Dangerous Business a month later on the 25th of October. A lover of all things sweet, and caffeinated, when she’s not writing about sexy bear shifters and their strong-willed curvaceous love interests, Lorelei can be found baking cookies or cakes for her family.
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