Excerpt Reveal ~ Love is Blind ~ by ~ Janine Infante Bosco

Keep reading for a sneak peek of Love is Blind by Janine Infante Bosco, releasing June 11th!

But first… Preorder with One-Click! https://geni.us/LoveIsBlind

#excerpt #excerptreveal #excerptshare #sneakpeek #preorder #ghost #ghostandbirdie #mcromance #motorcycleromance #satansknights #spinoff #newseries #knightdale #romancenovels #romancebooks #romanticsuspense #badboyromance #bikerromance #bookish #bookclub #bookbuzz #booksbooksbooks BLURB: The things I’ve lost could shatter any man. Send him on a downward spiral. I would’ve punched my own ticket if it weren’t for the Satan’s Knights. Instead, I became the VP of the Knightdale Charter. A man can’t drown in his misery when he’s got responsibilities. So I look for things to dull the pain. Sex. Drugs. Whatever. When you’ve been to hell and back, the only time worth having is a good one. My little Birdie knows this self-destructive path, too. That’s why I can’t stay away from her. The highs are higher when you don’t fly alone. But I’m not the only ghost in her life, and her past isn’t letting her go. I thought my club was the only thing left for me to love. It turns out I was wrong.

Ghost “I want an open bar and a DJ at my funeral. Oh, and those mini hotdogs are a must.” I turn my head at the sound of the female voice and stare blankly at the girl sitting two stools down from me. Her long blonde hair cascades in waves around her face shielding most of her profile from my view. There is no one on either side of her and the bartender is clear across the other side of the room, leaving me to believe she’s either talking to herself or to me, and if it’s the latter—well, she’s got the wrong guy. I’m not much for people and I don’t do small talk. Maybe if I was in the market for a quick fuck, I’d reconsider. I’d move to the stool between us, buy her a drink or two—however many it takes. Then, I’d take her into the bathroom or maybe Sally’s office—cash in on the perks of being a silent partner in this fucking place—and fuck her until we both can’t see straight. But I’ve got enough gash hanging off my dick that I don’t need to go through the pains of listening to this bitch go on about her funeral. I shake my head and bring my attention back to my drink. Hard pass, Goldilocks. Hard fucking pass. When you’ve watched a tiny white box the length of your forearm be lowered into the dirt, you hope to never attend another fucking funeral or wake as long as you live. And you sure as fuck don’t make conversation about it either. I knock back the shot, welcoming the burn as the whiskey slides down my throat. I didn’t venture out here to get my dick wet. I came here for one purpose and that’s to get inebriated. I needed a reprieve from the clubhouse, a place to drown my sorrows without any of my brothers standing over my shoulder wondering if tonight is the night, I’ll wrap my bike around a pole. The night is young and I’m just getting started. I turn my head hoping to find my favorite bartender, Emmy, making her way back to the bar but she’s still busy serving the rowdy douchebags sitting at one of the high-top tables across the room. Muttering a curse, I start to turn back to my empty glass, but my eyes seem to have a mind of their own and take a detour, landing on the blonde once again. She tucks some of those golden locks behind her ear and I watch her cheeks hollow as she awkwardly purses her full lips around the straw and sucks back some of her drink. I should look away—pay her no mind—but instead my gaze narrows and trails over her pretty features. From this angle I can’t make out the color of her eyes, but she’s got long lashes and high cheekbones that appear naturally flushed and stand out against her smooth pale skin. A pert little nose, a delicately carved jaw and a plush mouth. Dainty. Feminine. Sexy as fuck in a subtle kind of way. A real fucking looker. “And while I’m at it, I don’t want people to wear black either,” the chatty blonde adds. I wait for her to give me her eyes, but she doesn’t. Lowering her glass, she murmurs, “Life is meant to be lived in color.” I consider that last sentence. People only say that when life hasn’t kicked them in the ass. But life is pretty black and white. We start dying the day we’re born, and in that short life we shoulder more grief than joy. If I was a religious man, I’d tell you the color comes at the end. When our weary bodies are laid to rest and we’re reunited with the ones we’ve loved and lost. But I ain’t that guy either. Cutting my gaze back to my empty glass, I swirl the ice around. “You’ll be dead, color won’t matter.” “Maybe that’s what some people believe but when you’ve lived nearly your whole life in pitch black darkness, you want the celebration of that life to be vibrant as fuck.” I hate that fucking term. A priest said those same exact words at my daughter’s funeral and as soon as he did, I wanted to bury him alive. It isn’t a celebration when a child dies, it’s a goddamn tragedy. I don’t share that with Goldilocks, though, and a moment later her hand slides from the bar, dropping into the pocket of her oversized denim jacket. She pulls out a hand bell and I curiously raise an eyebrow. Pretty, morbid, and peculiar. She lifts the bell over her head, shaking it wildly. The ringing goes right through me like nails on a chalkboard and I cringe. “What the hell are you doing?” I grind out. Ignoring me, she continues to shake the bell, shouting over her shoulder for Emmy to refill her glass. Before I can slide off my chair and grab the offensive bell from her fucking hand, Emmy appears and quickly reaches over the distressed bar, snatching the godforsaken thing from her. Thank fuck. “Jesus, Birdie. You promised me you wouldn’t cause a scene,” Emmy hisses. My gaze cuts back to the blonde. Birdie. Somehow the name suits her. “Yes, and you promised you’d get me drunk, seems to me as though we’re both no good at keeping our word.” She pushes her glass forward and that blank stare fills her face yet again. “I’m waiting,” she presses. Releasing an exasperated sigh, Emmy turns to me and mouths a silent apology. I want to ask her how she knows Birdie, if she’s a regular or just a fucking pain in the ass passing through, but she turns and grabs Birdie’s glass. She fills it with something from the tap and tops it with a one of those tacky paper umbrellas, then slides it back to Birdie, lifting her hand and wrapping it around the glass. “There you go,” Emmy says. That’s when it clicks for me. The blank stare. The comment about living life in the darkness. The fucking bell. I stare at her, more intently this time, working her from head to toe, searching for a clue that might confirm my suspicion, but people don’t walk around with a fucking stamp on their forehead revealing they’re blind, do they? “I’m sorry Ghost my cousin seems to have lost her manners—” Birdie cuts her off. “Can’t lose something you never had, Em,” she says pointedly, tracing the rim of the glass and plucks the little umbrella from it. She flashes a smile and turns her head slightly, giving me a full view of her perfect face and the palest pair of blue eyes, I’ve ever seen. A man can forget his pain staring into those eyes. Believe he’s more than the demons that haunt him. Fuck him harder than he’s ever been fucked before. Lucky for me, the trance is broken when Birdie flicks the paper umbrella at me. I slowly divert my gaze, following the trail of the umbrella as it bounces off my denim clad thigh and falls to the floor. Lifting my chin, I stare at her wordlessly. The girl is quite the character. “Disability pays shit therefore I can’t afford a vacation so I’m going to sit here with my new friend, plan my funeral, and drink until I forget where I am. You game?” I think she’s talking to me. “Birdie,” Emmy hisses. Ignoring her, she lifts the glass. “Bottoms up, buddy,” she croons before pursing her lips around the straw. She takes a long pull, but the alcohol doesn’t quite make it down her throat because she spits it directly in my face. She may be blind, but the girl clearly has zero fucks and one hell of an aim. That’s gotta be some sort of talent. “Birdie!” Emmy chastises, quickly reaching for a rag. “I’m so sorry Ghost.” I don’t have time to reply because Goldilocks goes on a tangent. “Don’t Birdie me,” she hollers. “What the fuck is that a Shirley Temple?” Licking my lips, I take the rag from Em but keep my eyes pinned to Birdie. “Tastes like fruit punch to me,” I deadpan, swiping the rag over my beard. I’m way too fucking straight for all of this. “Fucking fruit punch, Em. Really?” “It wouldn’t hurt to sober you up,” Emmy argues. “Give your liver a rest.” “My liver didn’t ask for a rest, it asked for your best vodka,” she spats. For the first time in a damn long time, I feel the urge to laugh because fuck—she’s funny. But I don’t give in to it and Emmy rolls her eyes, plucking my empty glass from the bar. My features harden and comb my fingers roughly through my hair as she fills the glass to the rim and pushes it toward me. A frown ticks the corners of her mouth as her eyes lock with mine. “I’m sorry, Ghost. I should’ve put her at the other end of the bar,” Emmy murmurs. Emmy’s a good girl from what I know. She shows up for work, never gives Sally any problems and turns her cheek when my brothers roll in, ready to turn shit up. But referring to her cousin as a mundane object while she’s sitting right in front of her—well, that ain’t cool. I steal another glance at Birdie. “I’m blind, Emmy, not deaf. You don’t have to apologize for me, and you certainly don’t have to put me anywhere.” She turns and stares in my direction, not quite meeting my gaze. “What kind of name is Ghost anyway? Your mother didn’t like you very much, did she?” She didn’t but that bitch ain’t responsible for my name. That honor goes to the Satan’s Knights. You see, a ghost can be a lot of things. Unseen. Uncaught. Untraceable. A phantom criminal. Everything I am and all I ever will be. But a ghost can be a memory too. It can be a secret. Or in my case a menace of a man with a broken past, haunted by the grief of losing his infant daughter. I used to close my eyes and see the faces of all my victims, the enemies I eliminated for the sake of my patch. Most of them were vile pieces of shit that got what they deserved; some were just in my way. But now when I close my eyes, I see my baby Abigail floating face down in the bathtub, her lips blue and her skin cold and gray. That sweet scent of a baby after she’s been bathed and swaddled was gone leaving the stale stench of death in its wake. Like I said, a ghost can be a lot of things. I shake the image of Abigail from my head and turn my attention back to Emmy. The girl has been working here long before my club bought a piece of Sally’s and she’s been keeping my glass full since Abigail died. She never asks questions, never gets on my case, but I see the way she looks at me. I recognize the pity every time it surges in her eyes. Taking the glass, I swirl the whiskey around. “Why don’t you just save us both the headache and pour the girl a drink and while you’re at it, leave the bottle of Jack with me.” Emmy’s wary gaze travels from me to Birdie and back to me as I down the whiskey. Yeah, I wouldn’t trust me either. “You heard the man,” Birdie chirps. Lowering my empty glass back on top of the bar, my gaze slides to Birdie. She shucks the oversized jacket from her shoulders, revealing a pair of pink polka dot pajamas and…for fucks sake…are those ducks? Yeah, they sure as fuck are. The girl is wearing a pair of rubber rainboots with ducks printed all over them. She rolls up her sleeves and slaps both hands against the edge of the bar. “Shots! Shots! Shots!” I swipe a hand over my beard and drag my eyes back to Emmy who stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. I shrug. Maybe I have. The words that come out of my mouth next would surely confirm the notion. “Life is meant to be lived in color,” I say. Then I look back at Birdie. The girl has one hell of a smile. Bright and vibrant as fuck. 2021 © Copyright “Love is Blind” By Janine Infante Bosco

About Janine Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild. Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself. She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.

Find Janine Online Amazon – https://amzn.to/2GPQxHS BookBub – http://bit.ly/2XYCjuR Facebook – http://bit.ly/2WQaEj2 Goodreads – http://bit.ly/2WU2AxI Instagram – http://bit.ly/2Y0UArg Pinterest – http://bit.ly/2ZEEnZr Twitter – http://bit.ly/2x26DJ4 Website – https://www.janineinfantebosco.com

Excerpt Reveal ~ Becoming Wilde ~ by ~ HK Jacobs

BECOMING WILDE by HK Jacobs is coming June 13th. Check it out and be sure to pre-order your copy today!

Title: BECOMING WILDE

Author: HK Jacobs

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Release Date: June 13th

About Becoming Wilde:

Is this the beginning of our epic love story?

 

Alexandra Wilde’s life is beyond her wildest dreams. After a tumultuous year, she has returned to Botswana as a full-fledged pediatric ICU doctor and reignites a consuming romance with Ian Devall, the privileged philanthropist who has captured her heart. Her new position at the hospital is fraught with challenges as saving lives pushes her resourcefulness to the brink. Meanwhile, her connection with Ian deepens, and she realizes that forging a commitment with him will require a sacrifice she isn’t ready to make. As she teeters on the precipice of decision, tragedy strikes and sends her into a spiral of grief where she must find hope in adversity…or risk losing everything she has become.

Pre-Order Today!

Exclusive Excerpt:

“I went to see my dad to talk to him about the Mongolia project, and he suggested we go for a drive. That’s when he told me you had come all the way to his house to find me, and I asked him a…question.”

Ian focused harder into the remnants of his breakfast.

“What question was that?”

“What was it like to love someone so much and not be loved like that in return?”

Alex blinked as the words settled into her skin. Ian was referring to his parents—how his dad had let his mom pursue her dreams at the expense of his happiness and how she had slipped away from him after Ryan’s death, ultimately abandoning Ian. Alex tried to contain the singular tear spilling over the outer corner of her eye—a tear concentrated with empathic grief.

“What did he say?”

Ian pushed his plate to the side and turned to face her, his long legs barely able to fit in the narrow space between the barstools. “He said that it was terrible…and wonderful.” Ian reached down to wind his fingers through Alex’s. “He said he had no regrets.” Ian closed his eyes, plucking the conversation out of his memory. “Because epic love is rare and requires a man to let go of his fear. But once he does, he is free to love recklessly.”

His lids parted to reveal a depth in his irises that Alex had only seen once before, and their flames scorched her very soul.

“I am terrified of losing you again, but I am more terrified of a life without you.”

His lips were moving again, but the words were scattered by Alex’s quick exhale right before she pressed her mouth to his. In her kiss, she infused all the warm, tender sweetness that bloomed in her heart. Their meeting of lips was a sacred vow made amidst the leftover scent of maple syrup and the gentle whine of a concerned canine. Alex pulled away, opening the drawbridge to a fortress filled with emotion that rushed to the surface, leaving a warmth to her skin and a brightness in her eyes.

She placed her palms on either side of Ian’s face. “You will never have to imagine a life without me.”

Although he remained speechless, his expression, one of adoration and spectacular love, provided Alex the answer to her heart’s final question—an answer written in the glowing embers of his flame blue eyes.

 

Catch Up on the Series with Wilde Type Today!

About H.K. Jacobs:

HK Jacobs is native to a small town in Texas that gave her both wings and roots. She holds a Doctor of Medicine from Baylor College of Medicine and a Master of Public Health from the University of Texas. She is a board certified pediatric critical care physician whose passion is traveling the globe caring for seriously ill children in low-middle income countries. She currently resides in Texas where she continues to balance the many roles in her life—mother, physician, humanitarian, dreamer, and author.

 

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Excerpt Reveal ~ Gravedigger ~ by ~ JC Jaye

Gravedigger, Dirty Boys Do It Better, Book 1 by JC Jaye is LIVE!

One-Click now available! http://mybook.to/GravediggerBuy

Add it to your TBR on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/GravediggerTBR

Filthy doesn’t even begin to cut it…

Ex-soldier Clint ‘Gravedigger’ MacGregor is cool among the tombstones. Tilling the earth by hand, he’s King of Oaklawn and likes it that way. No annoying folks in his face, and plenty of solitude to muffle the PTSD noise upstairs. But once he spies a sexy, tousle-haired angel kneeling in the grass every Saturday, it’s time to rejoin the land of the living, stat. Here’s hoping his Sunshine doesn’t mind a little mud…

She’s been lost, but now she’s found.

The death of her twin has gutted Casey Rae Kent. Turning hermit, weekly plein-air grieving sessions are the sum of her social life. But a thwarted attack and subsequent rescue by a hot Viking lookalike have her shaking off the stupor. Is this spade-wielding hero a gift from the heavens? Can Mr. Badass and Brawny be her sweet salvation? Hmm, best get this dirty boy’s take on clueless virgin unicorns…

Two troubled souls, zapped by the lightning bolt to the heart. All’s fantastic until fate lobs more mega-grade grenades in their path.

Hell, who said love was easy?

**Adult content and language.

One-Click: http://mybook.to/GravediggerBuy

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/GravediggerTBR

EXCERPT:

“God, baby. So fucking beautiful, you are…”

I slurred out half-formed fragments of garbled praise, the words thick and impeded as I stroked a single digit sideways. Flicking it against that drenched mound, I groaned, my eyes shooting from Sunshine’s dripping cunt to her lovely, flushed face.

“Oooh, Clint…”

Her eyelids drooped, lashes fluttering as my forefinger explored further.

Slowly, carefully…

Ah, Jesus. Her slit was sweetly pulsing, silky cream soaking my skin. Abundant juices slicking my knuckle, I felt sure my head was going to fly off my shoulders. And that the other head south of my belt was gonna blow like a geyser real fucking soon, with or without the lady’s assistance.

“So wet, baby. Goddamn, so crazy wet for me.”

Chocolatey eyes glittered through those heavy lashes as Sunshine bit her lip, nodding and gasping.

“Yes. Oh, yes, do that some more…”

Breathing hard, I added a second finger, gauging how snug she was, how tantalizingly tiny. My teeth gouged a hole in my own lower lip as my prick battered against denim, bigger and hungrier than it had ever been in its thirty-three-year-old existence.

Way way hungrier, no question. Making zero allowances for Sunshine’s dainty size, trying to punch its way through tough cloth to get to where it needed to be. It jerked again, swelling like a zeppelin, a rude and unruly beast.

Yeah. Where it needed to be:

Right. The. Fuck. Now.

MEET THE AUTHOR:

It was all Rhett and Scarlett’s fault. (Talkin’ the grand staircase scene, people.)

Stung by the literary lovebug at a tender young age, JC has been devouring spicy romantic fiction ever since. Seriously… What could possibly be more delectable at the end of a rough day than a big, bad, moody male brought to his alphahole knees by a gorgeous, kick-ass, rock star of a heroine?

Well, besides a hefty goblet of vino and some imported Brie.

Dreaming up “I wish” fantasies while slogging through the woefully Rhett-scarce world, JC invites readers to indulge in decadent escape through her foulmouthed and passion-saturated tales.

You heard foulmouthed, right?

WEBSITE | AMAZON | FACEBOOK INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS | TIKTOK

Excerpt Reveal ~ The Musician ~ by ~ Bella J.

The Musician by International Bestselling Author Bella J is releasing on May 3rd on Kindle Unlimited!

Pre-Order available now – https://getbook.at/TheMusicianBellaJ

Add it to your TBR on Goodreads today: http://bit.ly/TheMusicianTBR

Add it to your Wishlist on BookBub: http://bit.ly/TheMusicianBookBub

For years, I watched her. Drank her in as she performed in front of an empty theatre, pretending every seat was occupied, the cello settled between her legs as her dainty fingers made love to the strings…one beautiful note after the other. She thought she was alone, that no one heard her play. But I did. I heard every note, every tune, every vibrato. It drowned out the voices. Silenced the demons. It gave me peace.

I’d hide in the shadows so I could get high on the music that stemmed from her soul. It was entrancing. Beautiful. Utterly hypnotic.

She has no idea that I exist—that I live for the nights she performs for me, and me alone. But she will.

Soon she’ll realize how important she is to me.

My cellist. My soloist. My Requiem.

Pre-Order: https://getbook.at/TheMusicianBellaJ

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/TheMusicianTBR

BookBub: http://bit.ly/TheMusicianBookBub

EXCERPT REVEAL:

I tightened my fist abruptly, gripping her hair tight and pulling her head back, exposing the beautiful, delicate arch of her throat, bobbing as she swallowed. My gaze held her captive, her pretty pink lips parted as I brought mine closer, hovering a mere inch away.

“It is our fear that fuels us,” I eased my fingers along her jaw, “our fear of failure, of pain,” I gripped her chin between my thumb and forefinger, “death. Those are the things that make it so fucking important for us to survive. Even if it means exploiting the fear of others by making their worst nightmares come true.” I bit my bottom lip as I studied her, those blue orbs of crystal staring back at me with a burning determination to not. Show. Fear. And by God, I loved it.

“So, let me tell you what not to do in order to survive me.” I tugged her hair in my fist, and she moaned, the sound burning its way to the tip of my cock. “Do not fight me if you want to survive me. All it does is make my dick hard and my control non-existent, and I doubt you’re strong enough to handle that.”

I let go of her hair, and I was sure she’d scramble to the other side of the bed like a scared little kitten with her tail between her legs. But instead, she sat up, not taking her eyes off mine for a second, her cheeks flushed, and upper lip curled with a snarl. Her face was the perfect picture of resistance and contempt. “You don’t know what I can or cannot handle, Elijah. Just because you stood in the darkness and preyed on my life does not mean you fucking know me.”

I wiped at my chin with the back of my hand, unable to stop myself from being amused by her. It was in her bones, in her blood—that primal need to fight.

“You know,” I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, “you remind me of someone.”

“Yeah, who?”

I smirked. “You’ll find out soon, little cellist. Soon.”

MEET THE AUTHOR BELLA J.

Bella J is an International Bestselling Author, who loves writing dark and gritty romance with alpha-holes who have absolutely no redeeming qualities…until they do. Maybe.

Some of her bestselling novels/series include:

The Rise of Saint

The Fall of Sin

American Street Kings Series

Royal Mafia Series

She lives in Cape Town, South Africa with her husband, two kids, and a chihuahua who gets treated like royalty.

Bella J’s writing motto: The darker the road to love, the sweeter the HEA.

WEBSITE: https://www.authorbellaj.com FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/BellaJNovels/ INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/bellajauthor/ TWITTER: https://twitter.com/BellaJ_Author BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/bella-j

Excerpt Reveal ~ Not Pretending Anymore ~ by ~ Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

 

Title: Not Pretending Anymore
Authors: Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 12, 2021

 

Excited about Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland’s upcoming release, Not Pretending Anymore?
Check out this SNEAK PEEK of CHAPTER 1!

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Molly

 

“So, what do you do for a living?”
The woman drummed her fingers on her thigh. “I’m a musician.”
I glanced down at the renter’s application in my hand. Lyric Chords was the name listed at the top.
I bit my tongue and tried to keep an open mind. This was the twelfth woman I’d interviewed as a prospective roommate. Just because she had a few safety pins in her eyebrow and what looked like a dog collar around her neck didn’t mean I should rule her out.
“Oh. That’s nice. Are you a singer?”
Lyric shook her head. “Drummer. Do you know the dimensions of the bedroom I’ll be sleeping in? I have two sets of drums I need to fit.”
“Umm… I think it’s fourteen by fourteen. But you don’t practice at home, right? I wrote in my ad that I’m looking for a quiet roommate because I work nights.”
“I do. But no worries. I’ll practice in my room.”
My bedroom and my potential roommate’s bedroom shared a wall, so that was the end of interview number twelve. I sighed and forced a smile. “Thank you for coming. I have a few other people left to meet with before I decide. I’ll let you know.”
“Great.” The woman stood. “Also, I know your ad said two months’ rent up front, but I’m running a little short right now. Would one be okay?”
I smiled. “Sure, no problem.” Since you’re not going to be living here.
After Drummergirl, I interviewed two more candidates. One wanted her boyfriend to move into the room with her, even though my ad had specified I was only looking for a single. And the other arrived twenty minutes late, reeked of alcohol, and slurred her words…at three thirty in the afternoon.
Why in the hell was it so difficult to find a roommate in a city of almost three-million people? I needed my last interview of the day to be a miracle, or I was going to have to shell out money for another ad and start the entire process all over. And I definitely didn’t have the time or the funds for that. Rent was due in two weeks. If I got stuck paying the full amount on this place myself again, I’d be eating cat food for a month.
When my last appointment knocked right on time, I took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and asked the big guy in the sky for a little assistance.
Opening the door, I blinked a few times.

 

Uhhh. I think you answered the wrong prayer, God.

 

A man stood in my hallway—and not just any man, an absolutely gorgeous one with a perfect, straight nose, cheekbones to die for, a masculine, square jaw, full lips, tanned skin, and the sexiest chocolate brown, almond-shaped eyes I’d ever seen in my life.
“Uh. Can I help you?”
He flashed a killer smile, one that I immediately suspected had made countless women remove their panties.
“Hi. I have a four-thirty appointment with Molly Corrigan.”
“You do?” I had the last application in my hand and looked down at the name on the top. “I don’t think so. My appointment is with a D. Tate?”
He extended a hand. “That’s me. Declan Tate.”
“But…you’re…not a woman.”
He smiled again. “You’re correct. Very observant. I am most definitely not a woman. But my last roommate told me I should’ve been because I use moisturizer at night and cried at the end of Marley and Me. And if I’m being honest, I also got a little watery at the end of Toy Story, so maybe I’m a bit of a wuss. Either way, I think you should consider those my positive feminine qualities.”
I was thoroughly confused. “Umm… I’m sorry. You must’ve missed that my ad said female only.”
“Actually, I didn’t. But if you’ll give me just five minutes, I think I can convince you I would be a better roommate than a woman.”
I chuckled. “Let me get this straight… You hid your first name—what did you say it was again?”
“Declan.”
“Right. Declan. Anyway, you applied to an ad for a female roommate, intentionally deceiving the person who is going to decide if you get the room by leaving your first name off. And your strategy is to convince me I don’t really know what I want in less than five minutes? Do I have that right?”
He flashed that boyish charm again. “You sure do.”
I debated how to handle the situation. On one hand, he was going to waste my time, and I had done enough of that today. But on the other, my curiosity was definitely piqued. Something about his grin told me this could be amusing. Screw it. I had nothing better to do anyway.
I opened the door wider and stepped aside, holding my hand out for him to enter. “I’m setting the timer on my phone, and I’m getting a glass of wine before you start. I like a drink while I’m being entertained.”
Declan smirked and strolled into my apartment.
I motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”
When I got to the kitchen, he called after me, “Hey, Mollz?”
I turned back. “Yes?”
“How about you make that two glasses of wine?”
I chuckled. “Sure. Why not, Decs.”
I poured a couple of glasses of pinot grigio and returned to the living room.
“Here you go. Hope you like white.”
“You see? We’re perfect together already. I prefer white over red.”
I brought my wine to my lips. “Yes, perfect. A match made in heaven. I think we might even be soul mates.”
Declan showed me his pearly whites once again. He really did have a great smile, nice teeth, too. Too bad he also had a penis. I knocked back half the contents of my glass and placed it on the coffee table. Picking up my cell, I swiped to the timer app and set it for five minutes.
I showed him the screen. “You ready?”
“I’m always ready.”
I pressed start, placed the phone face up on the coffee table between us, and folded my hands. “Go.”
“Okay. Well…what’s your favorite color?”
“My favorite color?”
Declan pointed to the timer. “Time’s a ticking, Molly. I’m going to need you to not repeat questions.”
I laughed. “Fine. My favorite color is pink.”
Declan reached into one of his pant pockets and pulled out a set of keys. The keychain had a bunch of pink beads with white letters between each one. The letters spelled out his name. “Mine too.”
I arched a brow. “Did you make that yourself?”
“No. My niece, Arianna, made it for me.”
“So how do I know that isn’t just Arianna’s favorite color?”
“Good point. Let’s move on. Your ad said you work nights.”
“That’s right. I’m a nurse. I work the night shift on the maternity ward.”
“So you sleep during the day, then?”
“I get off at seven, and I try to get to sleep as soon as I get home.”
He held his hand to his chest. “I work days. I leave for the gym by six and usually don’t get home until after seven at night. So the apartment will be quiet when you need it to be.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll give you that that would make you a good roommate. But most people work days, so it’s not really something that makes you too special.”
“Do you cook?” he said.
“Does macaroni and cheese count?”
“I grew up in a multigenerational Italian home. My nonna taught me how to make sauce from scratch.”
“So you’re going to cook for me?”
“If that’s what it takes to get this apartment, yes.”
“As tempting as that might be, there’s an Italian restaurant around the corner that makes great food. Funny enough, it’s called Nonna’s Place, and an actual nonna makes most of my meals. Not a knockoff.”
Declan took an exaggerated breath and blew it out. He glanced at the cell on the table. “Three minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I can see you’re not going to make this easy. How about you tell me why you can’t have a male roommate so I can address that head-on. Is it because of the toilet-seat thing? Because I have four older sisters, so I’m appropriately trained. When I was eight, I made the mistake of leaving it up once, and my sister sat down where I’d accidentally left a little pee. She dunked my head in the toilet bowl before she flushed. That was the last time I left the seat up.” He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. It won’t be an issue.”
I smiled. “It’s not because of the toilet thing.”
“Alright. So why don’t you want a male roommate, then?”
I’d actually never given much thought to why my roommate had to be female. It just seemed natural to have another woman sharing the apartment. “Well…I don’t really have a specific reason. I would just be more comfortable living with another woman. For example, I sleep in a T-shirt and underwear. When I get up to start the coffee, I don’t get dressed. It would be weird to do that in front of a man.”
“Why?”
“Why would it be weird to walk around with my ass cheeks on display in front of a man and not a woman?”
“Yes.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just would. I guess because the women I’ve lived with aren’t attracted to other women, so it doesn’t feel sexual in any way.”
“Ah. Now we’re getting to the crux of your issue. So you’re afraid of some sexual tension going on between you and me? Is it because I’m so handsome?”
“What? No! And aren’t you full of yourself, assuming I think you’re handsome, and I’m worried I won’t be able to control myself.”
“Just keeping it real, Mollz. You’re only giving me five minutes, so I’m trying to get to the heart of the reason.”
“I guess I just don’t want to feel like I have to cover up to come out of my bedroom. When I dry my hair, I wear a towel or a bra and underwear—that type of thing.”
“Would you feel you had to cover up if I told you I was gay?”
That question gave me pause. Would I? I wasn’t sure. “Are you?”
“Fuck, no. I was just trying to pinpoint your issue. Is it the fact that I’m a man, or the fact that I might admire your ass if it were on display? Sounds like it’s the latter. So let me put your mind at ease: I won’t.”
I felt oddly offended. “What’s wrong with my ass?”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t looked. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in love with someone else.”
As insane as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy. “Oh. Well, why aren’t you moving in with her?”
“Because she doesn’t return the feelings…yet. So basically, if your concern about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s going to be checking you out, you have nothing to worry about with me. I’m a one-woman man. If you want, I can give you the numbers of some of my exes for references. I’m no cheater.”
Hmmm… “I don’t know…”
Declan looked down at the clock. Thirty-one seconds were left. “We’re running out of time, so we need to speed things up. How about if I just give you the facts you need to know?”
“That would be good.”
“I’m twenty-eight years old. I make six figures. My credit score is eight hundred and ten, and I have references from previous landlords. I’m neat and clean up after myself. I’m not home a lot, but when I am, I’m pretty quiet. I’m also damn good with a hammer.” He glanced around my apartment and pointed at a hole I’d accidentally made in the wall when I flung the closet door open too hard. “I can spackle that and put on a door stopper so it won’t happen again.” He pointed to the kitchen. “And those cabinets are pretty tall. I’m six foot one. No more having to stand on a chair to reach something on the top shelf. And—”
The timer on the stopwatch buzzed.
“Can I just say one last thing?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I’ll share my Hulu and Netflix passwords. I have the premium Hulu account.”
I laughed. “Well, those are some pretty enticing qualities for a roommate.”
He smiled. “So I’m in?”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. While I appreciate your tenacity, unfortunately, you’re not. Though I interviewed fourteen other people today, and I have to say, you do seem like you’ll make some other lucky person a fantastic roomie.”
Declan frowned, but nodded. “I figured it was worth a shot. This is a great building, and I work right around the corner. It’s hard to find an apartment where it’s only a six-month commitment.”
“My lease is up then, and I haven’t decided if I’m going to extend or not.”
“See? That’s another reason I’d be perfect. I’m only in town for six more months.”
“I’m sorry. This is definitely a case of it’s me and not you.”
He picked up his wine and guzzled it down before standing and extending his hand. “I appreciate you giving me your time. And thanks for the pinot.”
We shook. “It was nice to meet you, Declan.”
After I walked him out, I shut the door and leaned back against it. What a shame; he really seemed like a nice guy and the best candidate I’d met by a mile. I was just about to go wallow in another glass of alcohol when there was a knock at my door. Checking the peephole before opening, I found Declan standing there.
“I forgot something important,” he said.
“Oh? What’s that?”
He took out his wallet and produced a photo of a nun. “This is my sister Catherine, and it’s not a costume from Halloween. She’s a legit nun. How bad can a person be if his sister is a nun?”
I laughed. “Is this the sister who dunked your head in the toilet?”
He grinned. “It is, actually.”
“Well, I’m not sure there’s a direct correlation between your sister deciding to dedicate her life to the church and you being a good person. Though, even if I take your word for it, it still doesn’t change my answer.”
Declan’s shoulders drooped. “Had to try. She tells me her being a nun won’t get me into heaven. Thought maybe it was good for something.”
“Goodbye, Declan.”
“Later, Mollz.”
***
“So…how’s the roommate search going?” Emma poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the small table in our break room.
I sighed. “Why is it so hard to find a normal person these days? I’ve interviewed more than a dozen people, and not one suitable candidate.”
“Did you post an ad on the employee bulletin board, like I suggested?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want another nurse or tech. It makes it weird at work if things don’t work out.”
“Maybe Dr. Dandy will apply.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I heard he’s sleeping on Dr. Cohen’s couch until he finds a place.”
That information certainly perked me up. “Really? Will and whatshername broke up?”
“Yup. Lisa in X-ray told me Dr. Cohen told her he’s staying with him. Apparently he and the wannabe actress are finito.”
“Wow.”
Emma smiled. “Yup. And fair warning, my friend… I’m allowing a ten-day grace period for him to grieve the end of a year-long relationship. But after that, I’m going to be up your butt making sure you let the man know you’re interested. He’s not going to be on the market for long, and you missed your opportunity last time he was single. You can’t keep pining for the guy.”
Of course she was right. And while I felt elated that Will was back on the market, the thought of coming clean to him about my feelings made me want to throw up. Will Daniels—or as Emma called him, Dr. Dandy, because of his last name and uncanny resemblance to a male model named David Gandy—and I had been good friends for four years now. We’d started on the very same day at the hospital and had gone through orientation together. I’d had a boyfriend back then, and he’d been seeing a girl from med school at the time, so even though I’d always thought he was insanely handsome, things didn’t bloom until two years ago. And most of the time since then, he’d been seeing one woman or another. Emma was right that the man never seemed to stay single for long.
“He’s going to be at happy hour this Friday night,” I said. “A few of the crew from CCU are meeting up over at McBride’s. I’m curious to hear what he says about the breakup.”
“Does he know you’re looking for a roommate?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, he needs a place to sleep, and you need a roomie.” Emma shrugged. “Timing is everything. Maybe it’s fate and he’ll move in and take care of two of your needs.”
“I think your imagination might be getting ahead of itself. Why don’t we start by seeing if things are really over with him and whatshername? They’ve split up a few times, but he always winds up going back.”
“Okay. But I have a good feeling about you two.”
“Could you possibly have a good feeling about me finding a roommate instead? I just had to pay for another damn ad.”
Emma shook her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t find one decent candidate.”
Remembering my last interview, I said, “Actually there was one who would’ve been perfect—great credit score, neat, cooks, leaves early in the morning, and works long days.”
“So why didn’t you take her?”
“Because she was a he.”

 

 

★★★
 

 

Excited? We are too!

 

 

RELEASING APRIL 12th!

 

 

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Please note: There will not be an Amazon ebook pre-order, but it will be available on in Kindle Unlimited on Amazon on release day.

 

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PENELOPE WARD

 

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance. 

 

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.

 

VI KEELAND

 

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty-five languages. She resides 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.

Excerpt Reveal ~ From Past to Present ~ by ~ K.L. Myers

From Past To Present by KL Myers is LIVE!

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Start the Vicci Crime Family Series with book 1, From Son To Soldier – https://amzn.to/3i9zRwd

The Vicci Crime Family Series is made up of Interconnected Standalones. While each book follows a different couple, books need to be read in order. Book 1, which is Jefferson & Giovanna’s story, kicks off the general storyline that continues in Gabriel’s book.

My hands have been covered in blood since I was old enough to drive. I’ve been a soldier for the Vicci Crime Family alongside my best friend, Angelo Rizzuto. Nothing has ever distracted me from my duties as a soldier and underboss.

Until now.

Angelo’s first order of business as head of the family is to end the lives of the firstborn children to capos in the Mancini Crime Family. A task I accept without hesitation. After all, taking a life isn’t anything new to me. One, two—quick, easy kills. But number three stops me dead in my tracks and has me questioning if I can go through with it.

For the first time ever, it looks as if I will fail the family…

This kill should be just as easy as the others, but nothing is ever simple when it comes to Victoria Devecchio, the one girl I’ve given my heart to as a kid. Even though I moved on and married another woman, who blessed me with a daughter, nothing in the world could’ve prepared me for this.

One thing is certain…

When your past crashes headfirst into your present, nothing is off the table.

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EXCERPT:

Victoria

I was disoriented as I woke up. Nothing in the room was familiar to me. The room’s only light came from the ensuite, which gave the room a soft glow. My head pounded with pain, and my stomach contracted as nausea consumed me. Raising my hand to my mouth, I jetted towards the bathroom with the need to hurl. I retched twice and then vomited into the toilet uncontrollably. When a hand grabbed the back of my hair, pulling it away from my face, I screamed. When I turned to confront the person behind me, I hadn’t expected to see Gabriel.

“Where am I, and what are you doing here?” I couldn’t remember anything from the time I closed the door on the Rizzuto woman until now. Everything was blank. Gabriel squatted and attempted to lift me from the floor, but I pushed his hands away. “Don’t. I don’t think it’s over.” As if on cue, once again, I emptied the contents of my stomach into the commode.

I heard the water running in the sink, and then Gabriel placed a cool washcloth against my forehead. “Where am I?”

His voice was more profound than it was when we were teenagers. Yet, even though there was a gruffness to it, I also heard the underlying compassion.

“You are at Bethany Eastwick’s home.”

Gabriel spoke the words as if Bethany and I were best buds. “You mean Rizzuto,” I touted back. When I saw the blank look on his face, I elaborated further. “Yes, I know that Bethany is a Rizzuto. She explained everything to me when she tried to convince me I was in danger.”

“Yet you chose to ignore her, which is why she drugged you and brought you here herself,” he contended, as if it was justification for her actions.

“She drugged me, took me against my will, and for some reason, you don’t seem to care,” I questioned with narrow eyes.

MEET THE AUTHOR:

K.L. Myers was born in West Berlin, Germany, the daughter of a military father. She then spent her childhood moving from continent to continent, finally landing permanently in Colorado when her father retired.Eventually, she moved to “hell,” aka Arizona, where she resides with her husband & their fur babies. She has two daughters & four grandchildren, and she believes in living every day to the fullest.

K.L. has a passion for reading and writing hot romance when she is not juggling family & a full-time job. Her novels show a pension for a bad boy with a heart of gold and strong, independent women who don’t need rescuing, and just a taste of naughty redemption! Her characters will pull you in & leave you satiated, yet panting for more, More, MORE!

Her motto will always be – “If my books can give readers a brief reprieve from their everyday life for even just a moment, I have achieved my dreams and lived a full life.”

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Excerpt Reveal ~ The Devil’s Vengeance ~ by ~ Bella J.

The Devil’s Vengeance by International Bestselling Author Bella J is LIVE on Kindle Unlimited!

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Gian

I knew I’d never have the luxury of choosing my own wife. An arranged marriage was a sacrifice men in my position had to make for their families. It wasn’t something I looked forward to, but it had to be done.

I just never imagined my father would choose her to be my bride. Daniela Moretti, the daughter of my enemy…and I intended to treat her as such.

But since the day she set foot in my house as my wife, my loathing of her turned into something deadlier than hate. Her strength intrigued me. Her fight seduced me. And I started seeing more in her than just dirty, filthy Moretti blood.

Now…she’s gone. Kidnapped. Vanished without a trace.

But the devil always finds what’s his, and when I do, my thirst for vengeance will be sated by blood.

EXCERPT REVEAL:

My father and Emilio were in deep conversation when Darion stepped in next to me, staring out the same window. “She sure has a great love for flowers, doesn’t she?”

“Do not pretend like you know her.”

“I know her about as well as you do, brother.” “No, you don’t. All you had was this weird friendship—if you can call it that.”

“So, are you saying because I didn’t sleep with Daniela, I don’t know her?”

I scoffed and turned to face him. “Since you put it that way, I guess the better way to say it is,” I took a step closer, “you’re alive today because you didn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh, my God,” he muttered, placing his hands in his pants pocket. “You’re still intimidated by me.”

I recoiled. “What?”

“Even though I left—”

“You fucking disappeared.”

“Whatever. The bottom line is, I left. I left because I knew you didn’t want me around. You didn’t approve of my friendship with Daniela.”

“Because I know whatever you’re feeling for my wife doesn’t stop at just friendship.”

Darion pulled his lips in a straight line, his eyes drowning in guilt. He didn’t even attempt to deny it. My little brother just stood there saying nothing, not even a single motherfucking word to dispute my allegation of him lusting after my wife. The fact that he remained silent was like rubbing sandpaper over an open sore, aggravating the ire that already threatened to burn me alive from the inside out.

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MEET THE AUTHOR

Bella J is an International Bestselling Author, who loves writing dark and gritty romance with alpha-holes who have absolutely no redeeming qualities…until they do. Maybe.

Some of her bestselling novels/series include:

The Rise of Saint

The Fall of Sin

American Street Kings Series

Royal Mafia Series

She lives in Cape Town, South Africa with her husband, two kids, and a chihuahua who gets treated like royalty.

Bella J’s writing motto: The darker the road to love, the sweeter the HEA.

WEBSITE: https://www.authorbellaj.com FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/BellaJNovels/ INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/bellajauthor/ BOOKBUB: http://bit.ly/2Pmsd7L TWITTER: https://twitter.com/BellaJ_Author

Excerpt Reveal ~ Lani ~ by ~ LeAnn Ashers

Lani by LeAnn Ashers is now LIVE!

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I ran away from Los Angeles to escape a crazy, obsessed fan.

But when I came back home, I never fathomed everyone would hate me for no other reason than me just being myself.

Then I met Vinny and Trey, my brother’s friends who are also members of the Devil Souls MC.

One single night, that’s all it took for my life to change.

Two men, one of me.

I’d finally found the missing pieces of my heart, and in two guys that would undoubtedly die to protect me.

Unfortunately for me, running away didn’t mean I’d escape. Crazy people are everywhere.

And then, he knocked on my door.

Once more, everything changed…

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EXCERPT REVEAL:

Vinny kisses me so tenderly and it touches a special part of my heart I think is reserved for him. He kisses my forehead in a final touch before I am handed off to Trey who kisses me with the same amount of passion.

“You are the best thing to happen to both of us, baby,” Trey tells me as he breaks the kiss.

Tears fill my eyes. This is the best moment of my life; their words and the contentment in my heart that I have never felt before. I just met them, but it’s like I have always known them. Both of them wrap their arms around me and each other as we stand together, enjoying the moment.

Catch up on the Devil Souls MC Series: https://bit.ly/DevilSoulsMCSeries

MEET THE AUTHOR:

LeAnn Ashers is a blogger-turned-author who spends her days reading and writing. She released her debut novel early 2016, and can’t wait to see where this adventure continues to take her. LeAnn enjoys writing about strong-minded females and swoon-worthy, protective alpha males who love their women unconditionally.

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Excerpt Reveal ~ The Devil’s Vow ~ by ~ Bella J.

The Devil’s Vow by International Bestselling Author Bella J is LIVE on Kindle Unlimited!

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Daniela

I was never a beloved daughter. Only a prized possession to be kept in a gilded cage until my father was ready to trade.

It was my duty, carved in stone and written in my blood that one day my virtue would be exchanged for an alliance. And now, that day has come.

Gian Silvestro, heir to the Silvestro empire, will accept me as his wife and seal my fate with a kiss that holds a thousand promises. But to him, our vows only mean one thing…

I am bound to him…and shackled to his hate.

One-Click: http://mybook.to/TheDevilsVow Goodreads: http://bit.ly/TheDevilsVowTBR

He eased the back of his hand down the side of my face, his gaze following the movement. “I bet daddy-dearest made sure no man has ever touched you. The purer they are, the more they are worth.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s the truth.” He kept staring at the side of my face as he brushed the curls behind my ear. “If you weren’t still a virgin, your father wouldn’t have had a lot of options to pick from. He would have had to take whatever he could get,” he shrugged, “which wouldn’t have been much if your virtue wasn’t still intact.”

“Why are you doing this?” I lifted my chin. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate me, that you can’t stand me, yet this is the second time you have me pinned against a wall like a starved animal.”

“I do hate you.”

“Then what the hell are you doing right now?”

His hand dropped to my waist, fire erupting in my belly. “Maybe,” he started as he slowly wound up the skirt of my nightgown between his fingers, “maybe I’ve decided that the best way to piss off Emilio Moretti is to ruin his daughter.”

I scoffed. “Do you think my father gives a damn what you do to me?”

“No.” His fingers touched my thigh as he bunched up the silk. “Perhaps I just want to break you for my own amusement.”

“I don’t break easily.”

A single finger snaked inside my panties, and I sucked in a breath. “There’s more than one way to break a woman.”

One-Click:http://mybook.to/TheDevilsVow Goodreads: http://bit.ly/TheDevilsVowTBR

ABOUT AUTHOR BELLA J

Bella J is an International Bestselling Author, who loves writing dark and gritty romance with alpha-holes who have absolutely no redeeming qualities…until they do. Maybe.

Some of her bestselling novels/series include: The Rise of Saint The Fall of Sin American Street Kings Series Royal Mafia Series

She lives in Cape Town, South Africa with her husband, two kids, and a chihuahua who gets treated like royalty.

Bella J’s writing motto: The darker the road to love, the sweeter the HEA.

WEBSITE: https://www.authorbellaj.com FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/BellaJNovels/ INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/bellajauthor/ TWITTER: https://twitter.com/BellaJ_Author BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/bella-j

Excerpt Reveal ~ Stanton’s Sins ~ by ~ Monique Moreau

🔥 STEAMY SNEAK PEEK! 🔥 Keep reading for a super hot excerpt from Stanton’s Sins by Monique Moreau! It releases November 10th!

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BLURB:

A biker princess. A broken billionaire. Will his sins come back to haunt them?

The darling little sister of the Demon Squad MC, Sammi loved everything about growing up in the club, including her infuriating older brother Puck. She’d do anything for Puck. After he gets arrested, she marches into the courtroom to give him a piece of her mind and marches out with the prosecutor’s full attention.

Recently clean and sober, prosecutor Stanton Prescott is focused on two things: working his caseload and making his very unprivate life, well…private. But when a sassy woman interrupts one of his cases to give the defendant a dressing down, she’s a temptation he can’t resist.

Stanton tracks Sammi down and makes her a proposal – be her sugar daddy in exchange for a taste of her luscious body. After a month in rehab, Stanton’s active imagination is dying to be set loose. He counts on her to agree, in exchange for getting Puck out of prison. What he doesn’t expect is for Sammi to see past his sophisticated mask. She not only sees him, but revels in the demanding beast within.

Together the pair battle angry exes, suspicious bikers, and other shadowy figures. Will their unlikely love survive the sins of Stanton’s past?

Come follow them on the ride of their lives with just one click.

DON’T SAY WE DIDN’T WARN YOU — HERE COMES THE HEAT!

“Don’t tell me you’re a prude.”

“No, I’m not a prude but here’s your first lesson, buddy. You’ve got to work your way up to talking dirty to me, and let me tell you, you haven’t even begun to work hard enough for it.” She gave him that sassy, disgusted look-over again. Fucking cute and hot.

He folded his arms over his chest, and she mimicked his posture, although hers had the benefit of shoving her tits up—creamy, and just plain lickable. Oh, he’d lick her, first chance he got. From end to fucking end. “Is that right? I’m going to be schooled by a little girl?”

“If the shoe fits,” she sassed back. “And stop calling me little girl.” Her hands flapped down her frame. “I’m a damn woman.”

Back in her space, the back of his knuckles found the line of her cheekbone. “Oh, no. The term “little girl” stays. You’re too fucking adorable, and I want to be the man who takes care of you.” His tone dropped an octave, coming out almost hoarse. “I’ll do whatever it takes, work as hard as it takes, to have the privilege of taking care of this tight body of yours. To do whatever I want with it, whenever I want. But calling you “little girl” is nonnegotiable.”

She pushed him back. He let his hand drop and stepped away again. “You don’t look old enough to be a sugar daddy. How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m twenty-nine, and a sugar daddy is in how a man treats you, not in their age. And, I plan on treating you very, very well,” he ended in a growl.

Looking him up and down as if thoroughly unimpressed, she cocked her hip and harrumphed. “I’ll think about it.”

“You do that, little girl.”

About Monique

Growing up in New York City, I used to walk the hot pavements in the melting heat of the long summers, and dream. Uptown to downtown, eastside to the westside, and underground to catch a subway racing out into the boroughs.

During my wanderings, my magic pencil spun out fantasies full of romance, with first meetings, heartbreaks, and reunions. Sometimes my boy crush (unrequited, of course) starred as the hero.

I grew up, and after a stint in art school, became a lawyer ‘cuz a woman’s got to make a living. I came from parents who fled to France as refugees, and as an attorney, I dedicated my work to helping survivors of trauma and persecution.

I believe in them. In their grit, in their determination to hold on, to pull through and, somehow, someway, to keep themselves intact, body and soul. Perhaps that is why I am drawn to writing stories of men and women who live through heart-rending pain, desperate yearnings and, ultimately, reach a place of redemption.

For a long time, I fought the urge to veer off the expected, safe path until I couldn’t go on unless I took a chance and made a change. I began to write, stopped, and began again. Finally, I gave in and here I am.

Come join me on my journey…

Find Monique Online! Amazon: https://amzn.to/2QKtJOb BookBub: https://bit.ly/3gNvrsU Facebook: https://bit.ly/3jYl3Br Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3gmIxOa Instagram: https://bit.ly/3gyidB3 Website: https://moniquemoreau.com