We are so excited to announce the release of Adriana Locke’s new novella, 608 Alpha Ave. This is a total standalone story about a grumpy, small-town mechanic and a pocket-full-of-sunshine heroine that gets under his skin.
Basically—read this now!
Even better is that the novella (did we mention that it’s a standalone?) is available in Kindle Unlimited.
Things heat up (and take an unexpected turn) when a self-proclaimed romantic requests the help of a broody small-town mechanic.
Grayson Blake is a jackass.
There’s no other way to put it.
He comes into Fireside every day and orders a beer. It’s nearly impossible to get him to have a conversation while he drinks it. Smiles—or anything remotely close to it—are even more rare.
Despite his cantankerous personality, he’s so freaking gorgeous. His thick black hair, broad shoulders, and the tattoos that mark his calloused skin draw me in like a magnet. I don’t even care that he’s ten years older than me. I’m here for the age gap. And his broody, bad-boy persona is entirely more attractive than it should be.
I have a thing for the rough-around-the-edges mechanic. And I’ve heard through the grapevine that he has a thing for me too. But getting him to admit it will be as easy as catching lightning in a bottle.
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“I don’t get it,” I mutter.
My hand stills against the countertop, a white bar rag clutched firmly in my grasp.
Natalia Barlow leans across the end of the bar, putting her ass and the top of her thong on full display for the table of bikers behind her. An unlit cigarette is perched between her cherry-red lips, threatening to topple to the floor as she catches me looking and smirks.
I roll my eyes and turn my back to her.
“I don’t get it,” I say again, louder this time.
My gaze fixes on the man—the only man—occupying a barstool on this side of the restaurant. Grayson Blake. Black hair, scruffy beard, tall, and oh-so muscular with tattoos etched into his tanned skin. Word has it that he has flames inked on his right hip, and when he moves, they dance as if they’re alive.
I’ve mentally filed that away because it’s something I’ll (sadly) never know for myself. Guys like Grayson Blake? They go for women like Natalia. Vixens. Women who give as good as they get. Women who understand them or, at the very least, the games they play.
I’m not one of those women. It will be both my personal and professional downfall.
Grayson lifts his beer bottle, and as if it pains him to do it, he slides his gaze to mine.
I swallow. Hard.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve worked at Fireside Bar and Grill for two years or that I’ve spent countless hours behind this very bar while Grayson sits on the other side, I can’t think straight when he looks at me. I also can’t look away. It’s quite the predicament.
“It just perplexes me,” I say, sinking my gaze into the steely depths of Grayson’s eyes. My voice isn’t quite as confident as it was a few seconds ago. It’ll come back around, though. It just takes a moment to get my bearings.
Grayson’s features are void of humor. Or emotion. Or curiosity. He watches me as if I’m a toddler and he’s in charge of making sure I don’t choke on a peanut or small coin.
I bite my lip. “I just … Natalia …” I shrug, my voice fading into the rock music playing overhead.
Grayson’s thick, engine grease-stained fingers grip the bottle. “Am I supposed to ask?”
The grit of his tone washes against my skin, leaving a flurry of goose bumps in its wake. It’s this way every time he talks to me. And whenever he talks to Corbin, the bartender who’s training me in the art of bartending so I don’t have to just waitress anymore. Come to think of it, I also have the same physical reaction to him when I’m in the Cherry Street Market Grocery Store buying bagels and I hear him talking from an aisle over.
Who am I kidding? I react this way every time I’m in Grayson’s proximity. Hell, I shivered in my flip-flops when I caught wind of his cologne outside of Pearl’s Pawnshop and Liquor Store last week.
“Are you supposed to ask what?” I ask him.
“About whatever you keep jawing about other there—about Natalia, I reckon.”
“Well, since you asked—”
“I didn’t.” He smiles a lopsided, amused smile that makes me wonder if he’s smiling with me or at me. “I asked if I was supposed to ask. I didn’t ask.”
I narrow my gaze. “You know what, Grayson Blake? You’re an asshole.”
He brings the beer bottle to his lips, hiding a satisfied grin, and pulls his gaze back to the hockey game on the television in the corner.
I loved reading Hayley and Grayson’s story. Hayley feels overlooked and is trying to fulfill her dreams of writing stories but she needs some help realizing her alpha character attitude. Grayson, the perfect grump, would be a perfect example of what Hayley is looking for if he’d only agree to it.
Grayson does not want to get involved with anything regarding Hayley, she isn’t a one-night stand girl and he is not a relationship guy. Except he does not want Hayley to get assistance from any other man but him. Of course.
I haven’t read any other books in this series but you don’t need to in order to understand the story. But I am going to read more about this town as I am even more curious about the other residents of Cherry Falls.
I’ve always known what I wanted in life, and never shied from an opportunity, especially with my art. Nothing can stop me. When Morgan comes along, the shy girl with the most expressive eyes, I’m certain she’s it for me. I know she has doubts about us, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to show her I’m all in. When Morgan lets her insecurities get the best of her, she gives up on us, saying it’s not forever. I’m left with no choice but to let her work through her feelings. I just hope she comes back to me; I couldn’t stand to lose her forever.
Morgan
I’ve always had doubts. About everything, but mostly myself. Growing up, I was never the girl boys fought over. I’m not ugly, but I’m no showstopper. So, when I catch my boyfriend cheating on me, my self-esteem takes a nose dive and reinforces what I’ve been thinking on the inside—there’s nothing special about me. When Michael takes an interest in me—with the help of his beautiful dog—I’m wary. My ego is bruised, and I’m not ready to fully trust. He goes out of his way to prove what’s between us is real, but I can’t get past the hurdles in our way. What if all I do is bring him down? So, I do the only thing I know how, I run. I can only hope it’s not too late for us when I figure things out.
Gwen Parks is a literary aficionado. She went from writing poems and songs to taking the jump to novels. She loves writing common tropes with a different angle. The Sometimes Love is her pride and joy and what led her to break out into becoming an independent author. Inspired by her favorite authors, her work can be described as unique and engaging. She loves to say she is a reader first and a writer second.
She lives in Maryland at the moment, with the dream of moving to Georgia one day. In her downtime when she’s not immersed in a book or writing her next venture, she can be found playing with her three dogs that brings light into her life. She graduated from college and loves the turn of events to where it has brought her today. She is currently happy having her pick of book boyfriends for the time being and mending her book hangovers.
Unlike her corporate brothers, Audrey Hyde has known since she was a little girl that she was meant to stay on the family farm.
Now a grown woman, Audrey is ready to take over the family business. She just has to convince her father that despite his hesitation, she is the right woman for the job. When a medical emergency halts everyone in their tracks, the family pulls together and Audrey steps up to keep the farm running.
As a favour to his boss and friend, Blake Levington arrives at the farm to help. He is immediately drawn to Audrey’s strength and determination. Audrey, on the other hand, is determined to show the city boy that he is in way over his head.
Much like the trees in the orchard, a friendship begins to bloom between the two. As Audrey teaches Blake about farm life, can she find a way to open her heart to new possibilities or will she let Blake walk away?
Pamela is not like most girls. She hasn’t been waiting excitedly for her eighteenth birthday. She’s been dreading it with every fiber in her being, trying to figure a way out.
As the princess of the Donkey Punchers MC, eighteen does not include freedom. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. It’s an unimaginable hell.
Jaguar doesn’t know much, but he knows one thing, and he knows it well—betrayal. He’s been a traitor to the only family he’s ever truly had, and he hates himself for it.
He cannot be the man who deserves to breathe, let alone be welcomed back to the Savage Beast MC clubhouse. If he’s ever going to atone for his actions, he knows that he has to do something huge to help his brothers.
Things aren’t exactly as they seem. A man on the brink of death. Destruction and war on the horizon. Relationships tested, unsure if they will hold the weight of the world around them.
Two people scared of the uncertain future, yet when they collide, one caged bird is finally set free, and the other discovers that being bound is exactly where he needs to be.
As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.
Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.
Hayley’s husband joined the military and they lived in Oregon,where he was stationed with the US Coast Guard. They moved back to California in 2006, where they had two little boys. Recently, the four of them moved out to the Hill Country of Texas, where they adopted a new family member, a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.
Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to the baseball fields for practice, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.
Darkness can only survive in the hearts of the wicked.I was brought back from the edge of death by Morgana so I could reign. But whilst there, something had latched onto me, and it had no plans on leaving. With each passing day, I feel my heart growing darker and it becoming stronger. Struggling to suppress the beast within, I lose myself in the scandals and politics of my kingdom. Caught between the high priest-Vahaga-and the lords of the land, being in power has never seemed more difficult.The threats of war with Berovia looming on the horizon means I need to remain strong for my people. My coronation nears, but with the mystery surrounding my father’s death coming under scrutiny, being back at court has never been so dangerous. Especially for a queen.The Court of Secrets is Book 3 in The Fate of Crowns Series.
Rebecca lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband and son. Born and raised in England, you can find her drinking tea, writing new worlds, and designing covers.Rebecca devoured every book she was given from the age of five and fell in love with magical worlds. When she got older, her imagination grew with her and she delved into writing strong characters and vast worlds.When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, you can find her traveling, and hosting book signings with Spellbinding Events.The Fate of Crowns, book one, releases January 5th, 2021 with the following four books releasing between January and June.
CLAYMarymount girls are good girls. We’re chaste, we’re untouched, and even if we weren’t, no one would know, because we keep our mouths shut.Not that I have anything to share anyway. I never let guys go too far. I’m behaved. Beautiful, smart, talented, popular, my skirt’s always pressed, and I never have a hair out of place. I own the hallways, walking tall on Monday and dropping to my knees like the good Catholic girl I am on Sunday.That’s me. Always in control. Or so they think. The truth is that it’s easy for me to resist them, because what I truly want, they can never be. Something soft and smooth. Someone dangerous and wild. Unfortunately, what I want I have to hide. In the locker room after hours. The bathroom stall between classes. The showers after practice. My head swimming. My hand up her skirt. For me, life is a web of secrets. No one can find out mine. OLIVIAI cross the tracks every day for one reason—to graduate from this school and get into the Ivy League. I’m not ashamed of where I come from, my family, or how everyone at Marymount thinks my skirts are too short and my lipstick is too red. Clay Collins and her friends have always turned up their noses at me. The witch with her beautiful skin, clean shoes, and rich parents who torments me daily and thinks I won’t fight back.At least not until I get her alone and find out she’s hiding so much more than just what’s underneath those pretty clothes. The princess thinks I’ll scratch her itch. She thinks she’s still pure as long as it’s not a guy touching her. I told her to stay on her side of town. I told her not to cross the tracks. But one night, she did. And when I’m done with her, she’ll never be pure again. *Tryst Six Venom is a standalone, new adult romance between the wealthy princess with a temper for what’s hers and the hard girl from the wrong crowd. One battles convention. The other, her pride. But nothing will stop it.
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I stalk down the nearly empty row, drop my bag, and look at her. She turns her head, sees me and rises, grabbing her backpack, but I slide into the seat, grab her wrist, and yank her ass back down. “Sit,” I growl through my teeth, feeling heat rise up my neck as she crashes back into the wooden pew, her jaw flexing. There’s no point in denying myself any of this. I’m a bitch, but only to her, and only because it feels so good. Fuck it. “Do something for me?” I ask her, keeping my voice low as students fill the rows around us, and the altar servers light the candles. “Move your ass a little faster down the field than my grandmother this Saturday, or is that too much trouble?”Liv doesn’t look at me, just stares ahead as she lets out a quiet little laugh. “I haul ass down that field.” Relaxing back into her seat, she hangs her elbows over the back of the pew, and her shirt creeps up a little. I spot the switchblade she keeps hooked over the waist of her skirt, but hidden on the inside, that only I seem to know about. So far anyway. She goes on, “I’ll never understand how a princess who can’t pass a ball for shit and brags to anyone who will listen about being a Swiftie,” and she does air quotes, “‘even before she went pop’ is our team captain. Oh, wait. Yes, I do understand. Daddy is useful. When he’s there.”My father didn’t get me that position. She can think what she likes. But I grin and turn toward the front of the church, my arm brushing hers. “Swiftie?” I say. “Aw, you stalk my Twitter.”That was like four years ago when I said that. But she just mumbles, “I couldn’t care less about your Twitter and your twenty-eight followers.”“At least I don’t lose a dozen every day,” I retort. Yeah, maybe I stalk her Twitter, too. And I don’t have twenty-eight followers. I don’t have as many as her, but it’s more than twenty-eight.“The world just doesn’t like tattooed feminazis with hairy armpits,” I tell her, my gaze catching the dimple on her cheek as she smirks, “who pass judgments like all the other constipated Captain Americas on social media who act like they really know anything when they’re just angry their life sucks donkey nuts.”The dimple grows deeper, her matte red lips pursing to keep her amusement at bay. My heart thumps, and for a moment, I can’t look away. Sometimes I get lost, looking at her. The shape of her nose that I’m kind of jealous of. How soft the lobe of her ear looks. The way she chews the corner of her mouth sometimes. “Is everything okay?” someone says, snapping me out of it. I turn my head, seeing Megan Martelle standing over us, holding a stack of collection baskets. Her blue eyes flit between Liv and me, knowing very well that this isn’t a friendly conversation, but lucky for her, this isn’t any of her damn business. “Fine, thanks,” I reply, my tone a big enough hint she’d have to be blind to miss. But she looks to Liv instead. “Liv?” Excuse me? It’s not the name. It’s how she says it. Like they know each other. Liv must give her some gesture or something, because Martelle gives me one last look and then slowly leaves, continuing down the aisle toward the back of the church without another word. What the hell is she thinking? Does she want to become my next hobby or something? I reach down and pull my backpack closer before turning my eyes back to Liv to see if she’s watching her leave. But she’s staring at me instead, amusement in her eyes. “What the hell are you smiling at?” I demand. She never loses her cool, and it pisses me off. But she just replies, “You have a tattoo.”Her gaze drifts to my hand, and I squeeze my fingers together, covering it. All over again, I feel the needle carve into the inside of my middle finger on my left hand. Fair enough. I’d mocked tattooed feminazis, an umbrella term I tossed her under, when, in fact, she doesn’t actually have any tattoos. Not even the one of her family’s little Sanoa Bay gang—the snake and hourglass that she wears on a bracelet around her wrist. Her brothers all seem to have it inked on them somewhere. Her eyes hold mine, maybe waiting for a response or daring me for one, but the light coming in from the stained-glass windows catches the coppery glint of the strands in her dark hair, a lock hanging over her eye as the rest spills around her shoulders. A dozen or so little braids decorate her hair, none of the ends secured with rubber bands. She looks like a warrior girl in one of those futuristic dystopian movies. And all of a sudden, nothing is hot anymore. It’s just incredibly warm. I squeeze my fingers tighter, the lines inked on the inside of my finger making the four quarters of an inch on a ruler, very few ever notice the lines, and those who do probably just assume I’ve leaked pen on myself. Within that inch we are free. One inch. “Clay?” she says, her tone different. I don’t realize I’m staring off until I bring my eyes back into focus and see the black of her Polo shirt. I lift my gaze, seeing a worried expression on hers. Her eyes shift to my hand on the pew in front of us, and I notice that it’s shaking. “You okay?” she asks. I inhale hard, angry at myself. Why would I not be okay?She grabs my backpack. “You need one of your little blue pills?”But I snatch the pack out of her hands and glare at her. “If you let her touch you,” I bite out, changing the subject. “She will live to regret it. I don’t even have to leave this seat to ruin her life.”Liv looks back at me, and I want to get closer—get in her face, because I want a reaction. “She won’t be able to take it,” I growl in a low voice. “I will keep going until she can’t take it.” I can ruin anyone’s life from my phone. It would be fun. And easy. “You’re not embarrassing our team,” I finally tell her. Megan was flirting yesterday. There’s no way in hell that’s happening. She holds my gaze and then draws in a breath, another fucking air of delight written all over her stupid, fucking face. “I don’t like women who chase me anyway,” she says. “When I want them, they know.”A tingle spreads up my spine, and when I expect to feel anger at her boldness, something else comes over me instead. When I want them, they know. How do they know? What does she do?But she rises from her seat without elaborating. “Excuse me,” she says, and takes her bag, trying to leave. But I stomp down the kneeler, grab her wrist, and yank her to her knees. She sucks in a breath as she catches herself on the pew in front of her, and I pick up my backpack and rise. “Sit your ass down,” I grit out. I don’t stay to see her reaction. I spin around, ignoring the spying eyes from those around us, and leave the chapel just as Mass begins. When I want them… I blink long and hard. Jesus.
Penelope Douglas is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Her books have been translated into fifteen languages and include The Fall Away Series, The Devil’s Night Series, and the stand-alones, Misconduct, Punk 57, Birthday Girl, and Credence. Please look for Tryst Six Venom and Motel, as well as the Hellbent series, coming next!She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and their daughter.
Title: Seaside Off Limits
Series: Dixie Point Series
Author: AJ Alexander
Release: June 18, 2021
Genre: Small Town Contemporary Romance (Brother’s best friend)
Cover Designer: Popkitty Designs
Photo Credit: Adobe Stock
Sometimes fantasy can become reality …
Brady Thomas has been the star of my fantasies since I was old enough to have them. As my older brother’s best friend, he never saw me as anything more than a nuisance.
But still, even knowing my feelings for him were unrequited, they persisted. Until one night changed everything.
It’s been almost a year since I last saw him.
A year since he deployed.
A year since he kissed me and then left without a word.
Now he’s home and I’m determined to show him how I feel. Brady may want to pretend nothing happened, that our kiss didn’t mean as much to him as it did to me, but the explosive chemistry between us is too scorching to deny.
Bro code be damned, because I’m not letting anything—or anyone—stand in the way of me getting what I always wanted…
Brady’s heart.
“Hey, Brady.” Her chocolate-brown eyes sparkle as she scans the table before greeting everyone else. “Gentlemen.”
I preen like a peacock at her attention. Her voice glides across my skin as I breathe in the scent of lilacs and honey, two things that will always remind me of her. My heart jumps at the thought that there may still be hope for us yet, but I remember the guy from earlier and the way she let his hands roam all over her body.
My shoulders sink as the reality of my situation sinks in. I broke her heart and she moved on, just as I hoped she would. Now I get to suffer the consequences. Besides, she has her whole life ahead of her. She’s getting ready to graduate from college soon and start her life, probably far away from this small town in the middle of nowhere, Alabama.
We continue to stare at each other as something flashes behind her eyes, but it’s gone in an instant.
“And what are you doing here, little lady?” the man sitting next to Seth says as the others whistle softly.
I growl under my breath, wanting nothing more than to rip out their throats for the impure thoughts I’m sure they are having about her. I grip the chair arms, ready to teach those men a lesson, as Seth shakes his head, warning me against the decision.
“Just came to say hello to a friend,” Emersyn says before turning her attention back toward me.
Gone is the girl I left without a word a little over a year ago. She’s been replaced by the woman standing before me. Yes, her body has changed in the best way possible, but she even carries herself differently, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Not just with her beauty, but her presence alone draws everyone to her, men and women alike.
My eyes catalog every detail of her body, noticing all the small changes that have occurred over the last year as her eyes bore into my soul. Her hair is a little longer, hanging just below the shoulders, and her curves are a little more pronounced, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. I lick my lips, imagining the taste of her skin as I explore each and every part of her, from the swell of her breasts to her apple bottom.
“Emersyn,” I reply tersely before grabbing my beer and turning my attention toward the bar where her brother stands.
Beckett shakes his head, warning me once again to stay away from his sister as he serves her friends drinks. I lift my glass in response, letting him know I’ve received his message loud and clear.
It’s not like I have a chance at Emersyn’s heart anyway. It’s time to put the past behind me and move forward.
“Who’s your friend?” Emersyn flashes Seth a smile, leaning her hip against the table, drawing my eyes to her body once again.
“Seth,” he supplies, taking a swig from his beer.
I don’t deny my desire for her. I want—no, I need—her to understand how much I want her. Her eyes drop slightly, betraying her true emotions. She wants me as much as I want her.
“Nice to meet you,” he continues.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she purrs as she stands back to her full height, never breaking eyes contact with me.
We continue having a silent conversation as I attempt to relay all my feelings to her in these few moments.
I want you.
I need you.
I love you.
Tears gather in her eyes as I lean forward, wanting to wrap her in my arms and let her know everything is okay, but one of the jackoffs at the table interrupts our conversation. I narrow my eyes slightly, daring him to say another word and risk my wrath.
“Run along, Emersyn. We have better things to do than play babysitter.” I wince, knowing that once again I’ve let my anger get the best of me.
She has every right to spend time with whoever she wants, even the asshole sitting across from me, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Emersyn doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. She deserves to be treated like the queen she is, but I can’t stop the torrent of emotions raging through my body as the realization of our situation hits me: Emersyn has moved on, just like I wanted her to, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
AJ Alexander is a wannabe psychologist and author of steamy (borderline erotic) contemporary romances with happily ever afters that must be earned by her characters. She lives in the angst capital of the world, Seattle Washington with her own personal knight in shining camouflage and her two beautiful girls.
Want to read more insta-love romance with a twist? Check out all of my books on Amazon #FREE in Kindle Unlimited.
She works a few days a month and the rest of the time was hers. Then a handsome biker walked into her life and turned it upside down with a simple wink and nod.
All Pie has ever needed was the club and his family. But when curvy Bristol lands in his lap and shakes up the direction of his life, Pie doesn’t know which way to go.
Bristol and Pie have no problem passing time with each other but will life keep them together or will they end up changing lanes and letting one another go?
Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Winter Travers is a devoted wife, mother, and aunt turned author who was born and raised in Wisconsin. After a brief stint in South Carolina following her heart to chase the man who is now her hubby, they retreated back up North to the changing seasons, and to the place they now call home. Winter spends her days writing happily ever afters, and her nights being a karate mom hauling her son to practices and tournaments.. She also has an addiction to anything MC related, puppies, and baking.
She staggers in excess. He wallows in self-control. Will exposing their weaknesses destroy their chance at love or forge a path to a happily ever after?
Sultry songstress Sophie Guidry comes alive on the stage. Her voice brings men to their knees. No one tells her what to do or tells her no. When her friends introduce her to a dark, handsome man with sincere eyes, his rejection makes her long for a life she doesn’t feel she deserves.
The key to Kori Brooks’ success is self-discipline and control. As the youngest in his field, he works hard to silence his demons. He appreciates his achievements because he almost lost it all. But when he’s introduces to a beauty with soulful eyes and a sexy smile, he fears her tempting ways may push him back on a path of destruction.
Kori’s willing to give Sophie a chance, but on his terms. Sophie agrees, but when Kori changes the rules, they both risk pushing each other over the edge. Will their addictive tendencies destroy them both, or will they push through to create a happily ever after for them both to thrive?
Addicted love is the explosive fourth book in the Love Sick romance series. If you like interesting characters, with an undeniable attractive and a desire to fight off their demons for love, you’ll adore Sydney Aaliyah Michelle’s epic journey.
The ache in my brain competed with the soreness between my legs. I was on opposite ends of the pain pleasure spectrum in my own body, and I liked it.
I rolled over and gripped my head. It pounded against my skull. I curled into a tight ball. If I reduced the space, the pain would lessen. I hugged my legs to my chest and settled, waited for the pounding to subside.
I blinked my eyes open and slid my hand over the sheets behind me. They were cold.
I sat up suddenly. Bad move. My brain took a minute to catch up. I squeezed my eyes shut and flopped back onto the bed.
Let’s do this in stages.
It was late or early; the sun hadn’t come up yet.
My eyes peeled open. I wiped the crust from the corners as I adjusted onto my side and slowly lifted my head. My dress lay across the foot of the bed. I pushed myself up. The shoes I had on last night were neatly lined up next to the pile of shoes in the corner.
I shifted my legs and the ache in my pussy made me pause. Images from last night pried their way into my consciousness. Kori at the club. Him staring through me while I sang as he bobbed his head to the jazz beats. The intense feeling he was ready to bolt until I acknowledged his presence.
“Oh God.” The walk home and the confession at the corner and then the kiss. It all came flooding back in a wave of embarrassment and lust. I flopped on my back and attempted to rub the image out of my brain through my eyeballs. My body heated with images of Kori on his knees. I could feel the trail of kisses on my stomach. The dirty glint in his eye when he asked me—no, told me to sit on his face. I shuddered.
I slid to the side of the bed and sat up. I placed my feet on the floor. That was enough for right now.
Sydney Aaliyah Michelle is a Contemporary Romance writer, a voracious reader, tattoo lover, and movie fanatic who hails from Texas.
After surviving 5 1/2 years living in China, she had the courage to finally pursue her passion and become a writer.
She identifies the sci-fi action flick “The Matrix” as the best representation of her life in the past. She is now blessed to be awake and doing what she loves.
She can recite the entire script from the 80’s teen comedy/drama “The Breakfast Club” and loves any and everything associated with the Avengers Movie, especially Tony Stark.
When it comes to books, Sydney reads different genres, but some of her favorite writers are Stephen King, Xyla Turner, J.A Huss, Kaia Bennett, & Emily Bronte. Under the Dome, The Great Gatsby & Wuthering Heights are her favorite books.
Romance Reads Reviewed by K – “It is the perfect book to relax, forget about reality and disappear into another world.”
Goodreads Review – “This is a steamy workplace romance with a sexy boss and lots of sizzle to go with it!”
Katslovesbooks – “OMG!!! This book is fantastic and an amazing start for this brand new series by E.H. Lyon.”
One business trip is all it takes for the unexpected…
As co-owner of Ives & Wells, Josh is ready to nail the most important business trip of his career. But does it have to include his business partner’s feisty younger sister Layla escorting him to New Orleans?
As much as they hate each other, it isn’t completely crazy. Technically, she’s an employee and Josh is her boss. But one fight after another leads to an explosion in the bedroom… more than once.
Josh definitely wasn’t planning on nailing more than a good business deal on this trip.
Unfortunately, their plan to leave the antics in the bedroom and out of the office falls apart as soon as they return home. First, because some of their mutual talents can’t be forgotten. Two, because there is a business partner that may kill Josh as soon as he figures out what happened. And three, because some secrets can only be kept for so long, give or take nine months.
The Unexpected Card is a standalone novel from the new Mr. Boss series. This workplace romance is filled with banter, a swoony boss, and surprises along the way.
E.H. Lyon hates folding laundry and decided one day to avoid it by writing witty and a little steamy stories. Her stories take you on a light and bantering ride until the very end, when your couple finds their happily ever after. Along the way, there may be the occasional emotional twist thrown in and the essential appearance of a bottle of whiskey. E.H. has a thing for witty women, determined well-dressed men who fall in love, and the steamy scenes that bring them together.
An American from the Midwest, she now lives in Northern Europe with her small pack of humans. She believes the essence of balance is sitting on a yoga mat listening to music whilst eating a donut. And she absolutely loves finding a new book boyfriend to swoon-over, hearing from other authors, and connecting with people who read her books.
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