Today we have the blog tour of PRIMARY SEASON by Sara Celi. Check out the tour and be sure to order your copy today!!
About Primary Season:
Who says politics isn’t sexy?
PATRICK BLANCO wants nothing more than a chance at the presidency, and he’s willing to do anything to get it. At just thirty-eight-years-old, Patrick is already one of the youngest and most successful senators in the country, but he’s destined for more. Much more. When the cold winds of the New Hampshire primary blow in his favor, his campaign kicks into overdrive.
So does his love life.
ALEXANDRA JONES knows that working on Patrick’s election could be the job she needs to prove herself in Washington, DC. Win with him, and her life will change forever. She just didn’t count on something—her growing attraction to her boss. Pretty soon, she can’t deny it.
Neither can he.
As Patrick and his team head to South Carolina, life gets complicated. This is politics, after all. Secrets don’t say secret for long. Everything has a price. Everyone has a motive. There’s no time for love.
This was about the only kind of politics I could handle; a love story. I’m not going to go any more political than that, so no bashing or praising please.
Alex is Patrick’s Communications Director while he’s on the campaign trail. Patrick is only 38 and running for president. He’s young, ambitious and wants to make his mark. Alex believes firmly in what Patrick stands for and loves the work she’s doing. Until she finds out a little more about Patrick that might heat up the election trail…
4 stars!
About Sara Celi:
An overactive imagination has always served Sara Celi well. Starting from age 10, with an epic tale about a soldier during the Civil War, Sara has made creating stories her life’s work.
After graduating cum laude from Western Kentucky University in 2004 with a degree in Broadcast News and History, Sara Celi started her decade-long career in broadcast journalism at a TV station in Louisiana, then worked in Oklahoma and Ohio.
Her love of the written word came to fruition with the publishing of her first novel, THE UNDESIRABLE, in 2013 and she has since published THE PALMS, PRINCE CHARMING, and NATURAL LOVE. She is also a contributing author to Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Power of Positive, Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Spirit of America, and a regular columnist for Cincinnati Refined.
Sara Celi calls the Greater Cincinnati area home. In her spare time, she likes to read, shop, travel, run, volunteer with the Junior League, serve on the Board of Trustees for Wesley Community Services, and work with Cooperative for Education, a non-profit providing educational opportunities for the children of Guatemala.
Since the accident I’ve been a woman without a name, a home, a history. I have no memory of the woman I was before and it’s painful to think I could forget about myself. But I’ve decided I’ll find out who she should be. Stepping into the club I have no misgivings about what I’ll like and what I’ll find, but he wasn’t it. Tall, dangerous, hands that roam everywhere I need them to and a voice like silk. I don’t want to see his face, I want him to be a mystery like I am.
One night is all I’ll need to feel, to be caressed and revered, then I can go back to being no one in the crowd.
Fate had a different plan.
I am a fighter. I fight for what I believe in and I fight for the people I care about, but I’ve never been the guy fighting for the girl, they fall at my feet. My club is swimming with sex, women and able bodies to take to my bed, but I don’t. Find your relief, enjoy them and set them loose — anything more and your head gets twisted up. That was my rule.
When she stepped through the door I knew I wanted her, I wanted to taste her and feel her soft body up against mine. I had to touch her. I had to see the colour rise in her cheeks. Did I know it would become more?
Maybe I should have stayed away.
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Keenan is a mystery. To herself and others. She has amnesia caused by an accident and she can’t remember anything about her life before she woke up and was rescued. No name, no family, no history. So she’s trying to survive and live her life and try to figure out who the heck she is. She comes across some fantastic men and couples who become her new family. And that’s how she meets Rush.
Rush is a former MMA fighter and the current heavyweight champion. And then he retired. Now he owns and runs Dangereux, a nightclub, fetish club, and his pride and joy. Rush is a one-shot guy and then he moves on. But there’s something about Keenan that drives him wild and makes him want to claim her.
This story is unabashedly real from the tragedy that causes Keenan to lose her memory to the struggle she has in trying to accept who she is now and trying to find out who she was. Rush aka Lincoln helps her through that, more than she ever knew.
This will take you on a roller coaster of emotions but it’s such a great trip!
5 stars!
With an avaricious appetite for stories, Kerri Ann can be found quite often with her nose in a book or writing it. On many occasion it has been said that she’s in her own world, living in the stories of those she reads about, giving them a life they deserve.
She can easily be found under a tree in the shade, or reclining at Starbucks scribbling notes about new stories and new characters, all while keeping the coffee chain in business.
Whether late at night, at a music festival, or sitting on a ski lift, when the thoughts arise, Kerri Ann will add them to those in progress. So be wary, your antics could be in her next book.
Ophelia Lang needs money, and she needs it bad. Her parent’s restaurant is going under, and ever since she lost her job teaching third grade elementary, scraping enough cash together to pay the bills has proven almost impossible. Her parents are on the brink of losing their home. The vultures are circling overhead. So when Ophelia is offered an interview for a well-paid private tutoring gig in New York, how can she possibly say no?
Ronan Fletcher is far from the overweight, balding businessman Ophelia expected him to be. He’s young, handsome, and wealthy beyond all reason. He’s also perhaps the coldest, rudest person she’s ever met, and has a mean streak in him a mile and a half wide. A hundred grand is a lot of money, however, and if tolerating his frosty temperament, his erratic mood swings and whatever else he throws at her means she’ll get paid, then that is what Ophelia will do.
Her new boss is keeping secrets, though. Awful, terrible secrets.
The ghosts of Ronan Fletcher’s past are about to turn Ophelia’s future upside down, and she can’t even see it coming.
Note: Between Here and The Horizon is a brand new standalone contemporary romance novel from USA Today bestselling author, Callie Hart. Between Here and the Horizon does contain some scenes of violence and sexual content, and so is directed at audience 18+.
CHAPTER ONE
AFGHANISTAN
2009
“Get back, Fletcher! Get back! The tank’s gonna blow!”
I was running. Behind me, seven miles of desert stretched out toward Kabul city, glowing in places where burned out military trucks were being devoured by fire. Twisted metal rained down from the sky, on fire and sharper than a razor’s edge, impacting in the dirt. Thud. Thud, thud.Thud. Shrapnel whistled through the air, striking the ground a few feet away from me as I weaved my way through the wreckage. Smoke was biting at my lungs, acrid and burning, making it hard to breath.
“Fletcher! What the fuck, man!”
Behind me, Specialist Crowe was losing his mind. Alternating between shouting into his radio and shouting at me, he couldn’t seem to decide which course of action to take. I’d ordered him to follow, but I could understand why he hadn’t. The situation was more than unsafe; charging headlong into the fire and destruction was a suicide mission, and I knew it. I also knew that my men were trapped inside the upturned vehicle still a hundred feet ahead of me, however, and I knew the truck was going to blow any second. They were going to burn to death if I didn’t help them. I wasn’t going to abandon them to that fate.
“Captain! God, man, stop!”
My heart was surging, my veins overflowing with adrenalin. My boots hit the dirt, left, right, left, right, left, right, my fists pumping back and forth as I sprinted toward the truck that was laying on its roof up ahead. Through the fractured windshield, I could see Hellaman and Wicks still strapped into the front seats of the vehicle, upside down and unmoving. They were either unconscious or dead. Hopefully they were just out for the count, but there was a lot of blood splattered on the inside of the glass. A lot of blood.
Black smoke curled upward from the underside of the truck, and I could already hear the hissing sound of fuel burning and sizzling somewhere. Groaning. I could hear groaning, too.
I reached the truck just as something inside the engine caught fire, and Hellaman came to. His eyes were wide with pain and fear as I dropped down onto my belly next to the driver’s side window, which was smashed out, small cubes of safety glass scattered into the dirt.
“Captain? Captain Fletcher. Shit, I can’t breathe. I can’t…breathe.” His face was deathly pale, and his hands shook violently as he tried to claw at the seatbelt that was digging into his chest.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Private. We’re gonna get you out of there, okay? Just hold on a moment.” My bowie knife was in my hand. I took it and made quick work of slashing through the webbing holding Hellaman in place. There was nothing I could do to cushion his fall. Slamming into the roof of the truck, Hellaman groaned weakly, and then passed out again, either from pain or from the shock, I didn’t know. I stowed my blade and grabbed him by the shoulders, then wrestled him free through the window. His face was cut; his arms were striped with blood and running rivers of crimson out onto the ground. No time to be gentle, though. No time to be safe. I hooked my hands under his arms and I quickly jogged backwards, dragging him away from the wreckage. Twenty feet was enough.
I ran back to the truck. Flames were visibly licking at the underside of the vehicle now, snaking upward toward the night sky. Wick was still out cold. I ran around to the back of the truck and tried to force the loading doors open, but they were jammed closed, bent and warped, refusing to budge.
“Shit.”
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
There was someone alive inside. Running out of time. Almost no time left. I positioned myself by the truck’s rear right window, thanking god the thing was already splintered. The bulletproof windows on military trucks were no joke. You could take a semi automatic to them and it would take longer than I had to smash them. The impact of rolling three times had obviously been enough to compromise the glass, though.
“Shield your faces,” I hollered. “Glass, glass, glass!” Bracing, I spun around and smashed the sole of my boot against the window as hard as I possibly could. The glass groaned, fracturing some more, but it didn’t shatter. I kicked again, and again, and again. Finally, the window exploded in a shower of bright shards, giving in under the force of my boot.
“Captain, there’s fuel in here,” someone inside yelled. “Get back!”
I ducked down and lay flat on my stomach again, crawling in through the now empty window frame. Inside the truck, gasoline hung heavy in the air, burning my nostrils and my eyes. Next to me, Roberts was dead, his head twisted at an odd angle, eyes staring, unseeing into the abyss.
On the other side of the truck Private Coleridge, Sam, a nineteen-year-old kid from Houston, was lying on his back on the roof, holding his rifle in both hands, his body convulsing wildly. His eyes swivelled to look at me, but his head remained locked in position, his teeth grinding together.
“What…what happened, Capt’n?” he asked. “We were drivin’ along, and then…everything was…spinning.”
“IED,” I told him. “Desert’s full of them. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
“I can’t…move. I can’t feel…anything.”
He wasn’t paralyzed. If he were, he wouldn’t be shaking the way he was right now. He was just in shock. A sharp slap to the face would probably go a long way to getting him moving, but there simply wasn’t time for that kind of motivation. Grabbing him by the webbing stitched onto the strap of his pack, which was still on his back, I hauled him to me and then backed out through the window as quickly as I could. The fire was raging now. I dragged Sam back to where I’d left Hellaman and was about to run back to the truck when a loud metallic crack split the air apart, and then a ball of fire rocked the truck, a wall of heat and pressure slamming into my body, sending me reeling back into the dirt.
“Oscar!” Sam yelled. “Oscar’s still alive in there!”
“Fuck.” I was up on my feet and running. The heat was intense—so intense that I had to shield my face as I grew closer to the wreck. The fire had consumed the underside of the truck, the tires blazing, the gas roaring as the fuel line was engulfed. And I could hear screaming. The kind of blood curdling, awful screaming of a man being burned alive.
My radio headset crackled with static, and then Colonel Whitlock’s voice barked out through the speaker. “Fletcher, do not go back inside that vehicle. Do you hear me? Do not go back inside that vehicle.”
Disobeying a direct order from a colonel was an offence worthy of court marshal. I ripped my headset from my ears and threw it to the ground, ignoring it. Ignoring the consequences. Another blood curdling scream reached me, and that was it. I was on my stomach, crawling into the mouth of hell.
My side pressed up against the frame of the window, and pain tore at me, sinking its teeth into my skin. Heat. The heat was overwhelming, so fierce and violent that there was no oxygen inside the truck. Only smoke and confusion. Only death.
“Oscar!” I called out, reaching with both hands, trying to find him. “Where are you, man?” The truck was only a six-guy transport, but the billowing, rolling clouds of black smoke hid everything. I went by touch until I heard him cry out again, weaker this time, voice riddled with agony. He was at the very rear of the truck. A few seconds was all I had. Any longer and I would either suffocate or burn up myself. My head was pounding, my lungs begging for clean air, and I could feel myself start to drift.
The journey to the back of the truck took an eternity. One hand over the other, I pulled myself around an upturned transport box, and jammed my body in between the narrow gap at the right hand side of the vehicle, reaching out, groping, searching, until I found what I was looking for. A leg. A foot, to be precise. I grabbed hold of it and pulled. An agonised yell filled the truck.
“Ahh, my leg. My leg. It’s fucked!”
“I know. I’m sorry, man. I can’t get you any other way.” I gritted my teeth, and I pulled. In any other situation it would have been a crime that I was handling an injured man this way. The clock was running down, though, and if causing more pain, causing even more damage meant the difference between one of my guys being injured or being dead, then I was going to do what I had to do.
I somehow managed to maneuverer myself so that I was over Oscar—I couldn’t even see his face, the smoke was so thick—and then I started shoving. Six hard pushes and I managed to drive him through the gap in the window frame, out onto the desert floor. His body was ripped away, pulled free by someone else, and then he was gone. I was almost too tired to heave myself free, but I scrounged up my last scrap of energy and I crawled forward, determined to make it out before the entire vehicle was enveloped. Halfway out, my fingers clawing in the dirt, my body lit up with pain. Indescribable. Unbearable. A pain so sharp and breathtaking that I couldn’t even cry out. It felt like something was ripping my body in two. I spun around and looked up to see a burning line of fuel pouring down on me, hitting my side, burning into me. I was on fire.
I kicked and jerked myself out of the truck, ripping at my jacket. Tearing at the material, trying to get it off. The fabric seemed to come away in my hands, and then I was shirtless in the cold, cold desert, rolling on the ground, trying to put the flames out.
The world went black. Someone threw something over me, and then hands were beating at my body, slapping and trying to roll me. A strangled gasp worked its way out of my mouth, but that’s all I could manage. The flames were out. The thick, heavy material that had been thrown over me was pulled back, and Crowe stood over me, face covered in soot and grease, eyes the size of dollar coins. I could barely see him properly. Barely hear the words coming out of his mouth.
Colonel Whitlock appeared next to him, and then the sky was filled with the beating thump of helicopter blades. They spoke for a second, and the thundering drum of the helo overhead dipped long enough for me to make out what Crowe said to Whitlock.
“He didn’t stop, sir. He didn’t stop until they were all out.”
Whitlock scowled. “I can see that, Specialist. He disobeyed a direct order in doing so, too.”
“He’ll be reprimanded?” Crowe asked. He was speaking as if I was no longer present; both of them were.
“No,” Whitlock said sternly. “Ironically, I think Captain Fletcher’s more likely to be honored than punished in this particular instance. Now get him on the chopper before I change my mind. The crazy bastard’s bleeding everywhere.”
Trailer
Teasers
Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and moulding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.
Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.
Callie Hart is the author of the Blood & Roses Series. Zeth & Sloane’s story is now complete, but there are a number of stories still to be released under the Blood & Roses banner. 2015 will see Cade, Michael and Rebel’s stories being released, as well as a number of brand new stories, all of which will be Dark Romance novels.
If you would like to contact Callie, you can do so here.
If you would like to sign up to Callie’s newsletter for info on upcoming releases, exclusive teasers, excerpts and competitions, you can do so here.
The Bachelor Auction by Rachel Van Dyken will be released on October 4th, but… Did you know you can Pre-order your own paperback for a January delivery!
Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start, but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. Until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. Hell, a prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if it was just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while they can’t have a fairy-tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . . .
To celebrate this AMAZING release, Rachel would like to offer ONE LUCKY WINNER an Epic Prize!
(Signed Set of The Bet Series + $10 Amazon gift Card)
From the New York Times bestselling authors of Stuck-Up Suit and Cocky Bastard, comes a sexy new standalone novel.
Money or love? Which would you choose?
You probably just answered the question in your head thinking it’s an easy decision.
For me, it’s not. Did I mention it’s a lot of money? A hell of a lot.
I needed to go far away to think it through.
As I embarked on an impulsive trip, I hit a detour when I met sexy Carter in the airport lounge. We struck up a heated conversation.
Then, he left.
I thought I’d never see him again.
But fate had other plans.
Surprise! He was the pilot of my flight.
The bigger surprise was the adventure that followed after the plane landed.
Carter was dangerous and always on the move.
Even though our connection was magnetic, I knew it was only temporary.
He would give me tickets, and I would follow him around the world to exotic places.
A bevy of flight attendant exes and rumors about Carter’s reputation were never far behind.
I didn’t know what to believe.
But I was addicted. Nothing else mattered anymore. And I was going to get hurt. Because a part of me wanted to be the one to finally ground the playboy pilot.
At the very least, he was taking me on a thrilling ride.
All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.
Excerpt
“Carter? What are you doing?”
Shit.
I laughed under my breath and banged the back of my head against the wood. “Praying?”
“Do you always breathe like that when you’re praying?”
“It’s an intense prayer.”
“What are you really doing?”
“I think you might know what I’m really doing, Kendall.”
“Can I come in?”
Still fully erect, I tucked my cock back into my pants as best I could before opening the door.
Her eyes trailed down to my massive erection. “I’m sorry….to make you resort to that.”
“It’s okay. My hand and I haven’t spent time like this since I was a teenager. I think he missed me.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“You.”
“Yeah…but what specifically?”
“It was this fantasy of fucking you on the dance floor back at the club.”
She looked down at me again. Her expression was serious when she asked, “You need some help?”
“I thought you said we weren’t going to go there.”
“I can’t have sex with you. But I want to touch you. I could take my clothes off, let you finish what you started. You know…help you.”
Looking up at the ceiling, I shook my head. “You have no fucking clue, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How crazy you make me. There’s no halfway with you. Jerking off with your naked body right in front of me…not being able to do what I really want to you…would be torture. I don’t have that kind of willpower, not with you, not anymore. Even when I kiss you, all I can think about is burying myself inside of you. But you naked in front of me? Too much, Kendall. When you strip down for me, I want it to be when you’re ready to let me have you. Otherwise, it’s better if I don’t know what I’m missing out on.”
Looking filled with remorse, she waved her hands. “Okay. I get it. I’m sorry…for interrupting.”
“Go back to bed. I’ll be right there.”
After Kendall left, I closed my eyes in regret. Was I crazy for turning her away like that?
Now that she knew what I was up to in here, I couldn’t relax. Still needing release like a motherfucker, I turned on the shower and got in. Ironically, I jerked myself to thoughts of her naked body against the bathroom door and imagined she was watching me.
Fuck my life.
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Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of eleven novels. Her books have placed on the New York Times bestseller list fourteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island.
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in ten languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
When a pin-up worthy tattoo artist meets a car mechanic on a Florida roadside, it feels like the start of a great one-night stand. But when feelings grow, and secrets are revealed, both of their lives will be at risk. The only question is from who? Find out in THE DARKEST LINK by RITA finalist, Scarlett Cole.
Title: THE DARKEST LINK
Author: Scarlett Cole
Series: Second Circle Tattoos #4
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Pub. Date: August 30, 2016
Synopsis:
When her car breaks down off the side of a lonely highway far from her sunny Miami home, tattoo artist Lia never expected her very own white knight to ride up on the back of a barely street-legal motorcycle…and she never expected to fall for her dark savior. After a string of failed relationships and a bruised heart Lia is not looking for forever, and the hot mechanic, with his sexy scruff and shaggy hair, is simply impossible to resist. He’s the perfect candidate for a mind-blowingly-perfect, no-strings-attached one-night stand.
Reid left his life in Chicago far behind him and hasn’t been back, but he’s never been able to escape the guilt he feels about his own painful role in inviting a monster into his baby sister’s life. A monster who almost destroyed her. Being with Lia is an unexpected gift, one he doesn’t feel he deserves, and their one night together has him wanting more than he should. When he surprises her at her tattoo studio, Second Circle Tattoos, in Miami, he’s in for a shock—and a fist to the face—when his past and present collide.
With secrets coming to the surface, Reid and Lia are thrown into a world of betrayal and lies that threatens to pull them under, and the last link to his former life may be the darkest of them all.
Follow the blog tour from August 29th – September 9th! Two grand prize winners will receive a $25 Amazon Gift Card and the runner-up prize will be all four ebooks in the series.
“What is this?” she asked, running her hand over the elongated hood.
“A 1958 Ford Thunderbird. It was a shell when I bought it. Was found in an unused barn with a bunch of other old classics.”
The wheels were black with white faces, and the soft top was a creamy white. Reflections from the chrome cast light onto the white walls.
“I love it,” she said, excited to sit inside.
“Hood up or down?” Kenny asked, slipping her cases into the trunk.
“Oh, most definitely down,” Lia said. Screw the victory rolls, she could always put her hair into a high ponytail and add the red ribbon she had in her purse if her scarf failed. She reached into her bag to find it and tied it around her head.
“I like this,” Kenny said, fingering the knot under her chin gently. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners made her feel all kinds of gooey inside. Perhaps it was a good thing they lived a long drive away from each other. His very presence made it difficult to remember why she was taking some time off from men. But a little harmless flirtation was adding to the adventure of a few days off work. There couldn’t be any harm in that.
Once inside the car, Kenny took her hotel details and plugged them into his phone. “There are few downsides to the classics, but lack of sat-nav has to be one,” he said, turning the radio on. “Ready?”
“I feel like Thelma and Louise about to drive over the edge of the cliff,” she said with a laugh.
“Close. That was a 1966 Ford Thunderbird, eight years younger than this baby. Does that make me J.D.?”
“That depends. Are you planning on driving me to a motel, having your wicked way with me on the dresser, then stealing my life savings?”
“I know a motel, don’t know if they have a dresser, but more than willing to do a drive-by to find out.”
Lia laughed. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t. Say the word, Red.”
He revved the engine several times, the low growl sexy as all hell, and grinned as he roared out onto the street. Lia watched his hand as he shifted the stick. He caressed the gear stick. The more she stared, the more turned on she became until she had to cross her legs and look out of the window.
Damn him for getting her so hot and bothered. She spared a glance back toward him, just as he turned to face her. And he winked. Because he knew.
And that just turned her on even more.
Such an amazing story for Lia!! You definitely need to read the other books first or some events won’t make sense.
Reid is such a sweetheart! And he fits right in with the guys at Second Circle. Who I just love all those Second Circle people. They’re funny, quirky in their own way and the best family any of them could have.
5 stars!
Scarlett Cole is a writer of contemporary romance and a two-time RITA finalist. Her debut, THE STRONGEST STEEL, has already become an Amazon best seller in romantic suspense, was a Best Debut Goodreads Author Finalist 2015, and Authors On The Air Global Radio Network Contemporary Romance Pick of 2015.
When Scarlett isn’t writing, she spends her time reading, hoarding mason jars, and working out to off-set an epic sour candy habit. She likes hot men, cold beer, and expensive shoes.
Having travelled the world for work and fun, Scarlett is a citizen of both Britain and Canada. A true city-dweller, she considers Toronto and Manchester home and likes to set her books in vibrant locations such as Miami and Los Angeles.
Rep’d by Beth Phelan at The Bent Agency, and published by St. Martin’s Press.
She’d love to hear from you on twitter @itsscarlettcole
From the New York Times Bestselling Author of The Resistance comes this new STANDALONE contemporary romance.
Because first love deserves a second chance
One month.
One movie.
One shot at a second chance.
I fell madly in love at first sight with Jane Lewis.
The girl with bright green eyes, a pretty smile, and great ass owned my heart. I thought she was happy with the status quo, but ten years later, I foolishly let her go. Despite dating other women, no one compares to my first love. We are meant to be together, and I’m going to try my damnedest to convince her of that.
Luke Anders tricked me. The deal was sealed before I knew he was behind it.
We agreed to be just friends. Simple. Easy. But it’s not just the weather that’s hot in Texas. I was a fool to think I could resist him. He knows how to work his charms and those kissable lips, that great jaw, and biceps. We are here to work, but he has become downright distracting.
I’m strong. I can handle one month of his flirtatious sexual torture. But if I happen to fall in bed with that sexy bastard for a night, or three, does that make me weak? Asking for a friend, of course.
I guess I’m about to find out when love gets messy, it’s not just the talk that’s dirty.
**BONUS BOOK EDITION of Dirty Talk includes the full novel of Sweet Talk. “Sweet Talk is a fun, sexy, emotionally-rich second chance romance with a charm-your-panties-off hero.” ~ New York Times Bestselling Author, Violet Duke
Excerpt
~Jane Lewis~
The panic subsides and then reality hits me.
Luke Anders is right next door to me. For a month.
I’ve only been here for a minute or so and I’m sweltering. The air hasn’t cooled me off so I pull my shirt away from my sticky skin. A knock on the window makes me jump; my hand instantly covers my heart.
Luke steps away from the car with his hands up in surrender. He mouths, “Sorry.”
Shaking my head, I take another quick breath to calm myself, and push the button that slides the window down.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I was sneaking up on you.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him, my heart racing—from his close proximity or from being startled I’m not quite sure.
When I open the door, he opens it wider and I get out. I can’t help but take him in, my breath escaping me just like the first time I ever saw him. He’s stunningly handsome, maybe even more so. Definitely more so. One month without seeing him and now he’s trying to kill me. His rugged good looks, the T-shirt stretching across his broad, hard body, and a week’s worth of beard growth makes me want to rub my fingers and other things on it to see if it’s rough or soft.
In a word?
Damn. Hot.
Fine, two words, but he’s worth breaking the rules for.
And just like that, all my better senses fly out the window. “Have you been working out?” I regret saying it the second I do. I regret it doubly when that cocky smirk that made me fall in love with him appears, transforming his entire attitude.
He pops a bicep for me, and replies, “I’ve gotten in a little gym time recently.”
“Well, it shows.” Shut up, Jane. I wave my hand in the air, unable to control myself. “I’ve got a VIP ticket to the gun show. Any idea where I might redeem it?” What the hell am I doing? He drives me nuts and I fall for it every time.
Luke laughs. Pretending to take the imaginary ticket, he stashes it in his back pocket. One arm goes out and then the other. “Bam. Bam! Check these babies out.”
Now I’m a giggling mess. Running my hand over one then the other, I smile. “It was worth every dime I spent on that ticket.” I squeeze his muscle.
He laughs and drops his arm. “And how many dimes did you spend?”
“Ten shiny dimes for each.” I walk around to the back of the car and open my trunk.
Luke chuckles even harder. “Glad you got your money’s worth then.” He comes around and grabs the large suitcase out, setting it on the sidewalk and pulling up the handle.
I reach in the backseat and pull out the last box, but he moves in and grabs it for me. “Take the suitcase. I’ll carry this for you.”
Rolling the suitcase behind me, we walk along the sidewalk back to the hotel as if we’re friends, as if we haven’t hurt each other’s hearts. I ask, “What were you doing out here?”
“Getting coffee. I heard Jo’s is great. It’s next to the hotel.”
“I could use one. The drive was exhausting.”
He walks one step to the side and behind me. “Why did you drive?”
“I wanted to have a car.” I hate lying, especially to him, but I’m not ready for him to know I don’t have a place to call home anymore or a place to store my car in LA for a month. I’ll have to face the fact of my reality once this film wraps, so I choose to hide my eyes and stick with the white lie.
A silence pervades the journey as we walk through the courtyard. I stop in front of my door. Looking to his, I wonder if he realizes the relation of the two. Turning back to him, his smile is much nicer, more the sweet boy I once knew. I still struggle with what to say, so I awkwardly shift, and signal to the door behind me. “This is me.” I unlock the door, and step inside.
“Right next door.” He follows me inside. After setting the box down on the table, he looks around the room. “Just like mine. It’s nice we’ll be neighbors.”
“Quite the coincidence.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Maybe not?”
“Could be fate, Janie.”
“You never believed in fate.” I sit on the bed just as some of the old feelings come swirling back in the quiet of the room.
“I believe in destiny these days.”
Luke is a MASTER at dirty talk and boy does Jane know it!
Luke and Jane were high school sweethearts who broke apart. But neither has forgot the other and how much they miss each other. But Jane is engaged and Luke enjoys playing the field, right?
They are thrown back together to work on bringing Jane’s play to life on the big screen. Luke producing Jane’s play-turned-movie. They’re “stuck” with each other for a month and Luke couldn’t be happier. He wants to win back Jane amd her heart all over again.
4 stars!
New York Times and USA Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott, was always interested in the arts. She grew up painting, writing poetry and short stories, and willing her days away lost in a good book and the movies.
With a degree in Journalism, she continued her love of the written word by reading American authors like Salinger and Fitzgerald. She was intrigued by their flawed characters living in picture perfect worlds, but could still debate that the world those characters lived in were actually the flawed ones. This dynamic of leaving the reader invested in the words, inspired Scott to start writing with emotion while interjecting an underlying passion into her own stories.
Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She’s obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. She dreams of seeing one of her own books made into a movie one day as well as returning to Europe. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she’s a pro.
It was impossible to predict the impact I would have on the life of the only woman I’d ever truly loved. No way to know that I would result in her ruin.
I’d suffer for eternity with the knowledge that it was me who brought devastation to her doorstep.
Though I deserved the anguish I felt, to see her suffer was unacceptable.
I would fix this.
Somehow I would prove to her that I wasn’t the monster she thought I was.
Even if it meant becoming a monster in order to make that happen.
EXCERPT
Then the door swung open and there he was. For a brief moment I was taken by his handsome features—his olive skin and pronounced jaw, the sparkle in his dark eyes, his perfect, straight nose. More than anything, it was the pull that remained between us that surprised me. Like I was a planet still circling his sun.
There was a moment when we locked eyes that the gravity of all that had happened wasn’t weighing heavy between us, and it almost caused me to stumble back.
Then, after the moment of intimacy had passed, I was sure I saw dread slip over his expression. I wasn’t going to stay put and find out though.
I wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep begging for whatever scraps of information he deemed worthy of casting my way. No, I was here to demand what he, at the very least, owed me, and I wouldn’t leave until he gave it to me.
“We need to talk.” I pushed past him, careful not to make contact, and bolted down the hallway toward the living room.
“Emily, this isn’t a good time.” Marco’s footsteps followed quickly behind me.
“I don’t care. Put aside whatever it is you’re doing. I want answers.”
I came to an abrupt stop when I stepped into the living/dining area and found Alexa sprawled across the couch like she was a feast ready to be enjoyed.
Her blouse was half unbuttoned, her legs draped over the cushions, causing her skirt to ride up a bit on her thighs, and her lips slightly swollen. Her lipstick had been rubbed off her mouth and onto her skin. She wore a saccharine smile that I wanted to rip off her face.
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned back to Marco. “Oh, I see. Well, pardon me for interrupting.” There was no disguising the venom in my voice.
His tortured gazed darted from me to her and back a few times before he schooled his features and responded. “Can we have this conversation some other time?” he asked, his voice neutral.
“Marco, who’s this?” Alexa purred from behind me.
I spun to address her with a fake smile on my face. “I’m Emily. We met at the art show a few months ago when I was there with Marco. Back when we were still fucking. You can call me Brandi, though.” I turned to lock gazes with him before finishing. “Everyone who knows me intimately does.”
His fists clenched at his sides and his jaw tightened. Good. Some small part of me was pleased that I was still able to elicit a reaction like that from him.
I swung my attention back to the blonde on the couch. “I’m sorry to swing by unannounced like this and interrupt what was obviously going to be a good time for you both. I just need a few minutes with Marco, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Alexa’s eyes narrowed on me for a moment, and though she was playing nice with me—probably for Marco’s benefit—it was clear she wasn’t pleased with the interruption.
“Perhaps I should go,” she said.
“No!” Marco said, whip fast. “Emily should be the one to leave.”
Not going to lie.
That stung.
A lot.
No matter that everything between Marco and I had been based on lies, the fact that I was so easily tossed aside smarted.
“I’m not going anywhere until we speak.” I leveled him with a gaze that told him I was serious.
“Why don’t you use my bathroom to freshen up, Alexa? It’s that way through my bedroom.” He pointed toward the room that we’d spent many a night in. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
A victorious smile crept across her face, and her gaze swung to me as she rose from the couch. She brushed her fingers across Marco’s chest as she passed him. “Don’t be too long.”
He nodded but didn’t spare her a glance as she passed, his gaze still fixed on me.
As soon as the bedroom door closed, I spoke. “Sorry to interrupt your play time, Marco, but you owe me some answers and I’m ready to collect.”
Before Burn, I had to prepare and go back and read Hook. You need to have read Hook first to get the full story.
After Hook, I wasn’t sure how Marco & Emily’s story would continue. It definitely was NOT was I was thinking/expecting. I won’t say too much because I don’t want to give it away.
After Hook, Emily wants revenge. And it’s by any means necessary. She’s going to make someone/the people pay. And Marco is of a similar mind. They just both go about it in different ways.
I will just say, read Burn! If you love Hook like I did, and was DYING for the continuation, Burn will fill that role!
5 stars!
Haven’t met Marco Valenti yet, Now is your chance!
USA Today Bestselling author, Elisabeth Grace, has a soft spot for romance novels with happily ever afters and a hot spot for alpha males! She currently lives outside Toronto, Canada with her hubby and two small children. Life is busy, but never to busy for a good story and to share her love of reading and writing with others.
*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.
Excerpt
Without much thought except for comfort, instinctively I pressed myself against him, fitting into his arms as easy as breathing. He leaned against the brick wall of the neighboring building and wrapped me up, sensing my need to be grounded.
I don’t know how long we stood like that—maybe a minute, maybe five—but soon our breaths were in sync; the rise and fall of his chest in perfect accord with mine.
One of his hands traced down my spine and then up. He outlined my shoulder blades with his fingertips. His hands drifted to my hips then caressed back up to my hair, massaging my scalp.
But what had started as an innocent hug changed.
Fire licked my skin everywhere he touched. Of their own accord, my hands slid down to his waist and teased the line where his jeans rested on his hips. I went further, my fingers toying with the V at his hip until I felt him harden against me.
Lips brushed the top of my hair. “Remi . . . look at me,” he said, his voice raspy.
If you look up, you’re going to kiss him . . .
I tilted my head up and his mouth fused with mine in an instant.
Insistent. Wild. Hot. Yes! This is what I needed.
I groaned, and my hands rushed to his shoulders and dug in.
He was wrong—terribly wrong—for me, but it felt so right.
I felt wonderfully alive, revved up, as if I could crush a car with my bare hands, or push Dax against the wall and fuck him senseless. I recognized the feeling for what it was—an I almost-died-and-now-I-want-to-experience-life feeling.
“Wait,” he breathed as I ran my hand under his shirt. “It’s adrenaline. You’ve been through a trauma. You don’t really want this—”
“Shhh.” I lifted his shirt and kissed his chest, my tongue flicking over his nipple. “You taste like every good thing I’ve ever wanted.”
His taut restraint snapped, and he swayed into me. “God, I can’t tell you no.”
Filthy English was an amazing read! I really got into the story between Remi and Dax.
I hadn’t read Dirty English prior to this and I didn’t miss anything. Although after reading Filthy English, I WANT TO! Plus Spider is a crack up and I want to see more of him.
Remi has just been dumped by her fiancé and is feeling low. She takes the non-refundable honeymoon trip with a friend to London to get away and just process everything. While out at a club, she gets the idea to have a one-night stand with a hot guy. And she finds the perfect guy for her plan – except she doesn’t realize it’s her former 3-night stand, Dax…
Dax is captivated by this mysterious stranger who actually isn’t a stranger… Remi has always been someone who has intrigued and beguiled him, even when she left him after their amazing weekend.
But all is not as they seem as there are plenty of surprises in store for these two!
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.
On paper, he’s one hundred percent wrong for me. His e-mails are equal parts annoying and funny.
Okay, more funny than annoying. More like refreshing. Different. Exciting.
But as I stand next to him now, he’s giving me head-to-toe tingles, and I find myself dwelling on his e-mails.
Meet smart, sexy career girl and New York snob, Charli Richards. She has everything except happiness until the day she meets Layton Griffin. It’s a random encounter on an airplane; it couldn’t mean anything, right?
Layton isn’t even remotely close to who Charli sees herself hooking up with . . . ever. Her mom and best friend agree he’s not for her, but he makes her feel something exciting, awakens her world.
But then Layton changes, going to great lengths for Charli to see him for who he really is.
Will those changes bring them closer together, or will she never be able to see him in the same way again?
Excerpt
“Cheers.” My seatmate good-naturedly tipped his glass toward me. He wasn’t going to leave me alone.
I took a long gulp and looked back at my computer screen.
“Do you like working for them?”
I tugged at my turtleneck; it was so freaking hot all of a sudden. My nosy neighbor’s face had a slight sheen to it, clearly from being hot, and now his warmth was seeping into my space.
“I do. They’re a growing company and . . . I’ve made great strides there.”
What the heck? Why was I even answering him? Because he asked, and if I was honest, it was the nicest anyone had been to me in months.
Furthermore, why did I sound like I was on an interview? Or an infomercial?
He was kind—I could tell—and his smile was gentle and calm, his eyes like warm coffee with just the right amount of cream swirling through it. I turned a little in my seat to face him and my knee brushed his thigh. I let my gaze travel his Beastie Boys T-shirt until I settled on his computer.
Playing on it was a rom-com, one I’d never seen before, but Katie What’s-her-name—all stunning, shiny hair, celebrity mom, perfect life—was front and center. Her arms were full of shopping bags and she was wearing a big grin on her perfect face as she walked down a city street.
“You don’t strike me as the romantic comedy type.” I felt my eyebrow lift. I wasn’t sure if I was teasing him or myself as the question floated from my mouth.
He laughed. It was soothing and comforting like a coffee-and-Kahlua on a cold night, and warm like the sun on the first few days of summer.
I allowed my eyes to close and imagined he looked like somebody else—not someone else totally, but just different. Fit, not slender but muscular. He still had the same gracious smile and inviting eyes, but he wasn’t wearing a music T-shirt in my imagination. Maybe a Henley? And dark-wash jeans instead of the regular everyday ragged blue I’d noticed him wearing.
“It’s work too,” he said, interrupting my fantasy.
“Oh.” I chugged the balance of my mimosa, cooling the wash of desire recently conjured up from my brain.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure BubblePOP will end up reviewing this one, will probably have someone at the premiere too. That’s why I asked about the site. Six degrees of Kevin Bacon and all that. Our worlds are connected.”
“I don’t do movies. I’m the fitness editor, but if Katie What’s-her-name is in it, I’m sure we’ll be all over it.”
He shifted his gaze over fully to me now. His eyes weren’t exclusively deep brown; tiny flecks of amber circled his pupil. They were captivating in a weird way, as if they didn’t belong with this guy.
I’d never met a slob who was so interesting before, yet he was definitely intriguing. And not really a slob—that was my own bias. Clearly, I was having some sort of psychotic breakdown on this airplane.
Like many other reviews I’ve read, I both loved and hated To See You.
Charli is a hustle and bustle, New Yorker, e-zine fitness editor, and always looking for the next achievement. When Layton, a thicker, sweetheart of a man starts talking to her on a plane, she immediately judges him by his outward appearance.
Layton knows he is a little more than society’s version of “fit” but when he meets Charli on a plane, he is immediately interested in her. She’s not like his normal type but in his mind he’ll never know what could happen unless he tries. So he tries.
Fast forward a few months and Charli has undergone a transformation for the better and so has Layton. They meet up again and their chemistry is still there.
I liked the message of this book but at the same time I just hated Charli. But that’s what made her transformation that much more effective.
4 stars!
Rachel Blaufeld is a social worker/entrepreneur/blogger turned author. Fearless about sharing her opinion, Rachel captured the ear of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog,BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and inventing a product, often at the same time. She has also blogged for The Huffington Post, Modern Mom, and StartupNation.
Turning her focus on her sometimes wild-and-crazy creative side, it only took Rachel two decades to do exactly what she wanted to do—write a fiction novel. Now she spends way too many hours in local coffee shops plotting her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end lusciously.
Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two dogs. Her obsessions include running, coffee, icing-filled doughnuts, anti-heroes, and mighty fine epilogues.
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of eleven novels. Her books have placed on the New York Times bestseller list fourteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island.
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