Buy Me Box Set By Alexa Riley ♥ Release Blitz

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

 The Mistresses have been bundled together and now include the novella His First and Only, which was in the For the First Time bundle.

This book includes the entire BUY ME series, featuring a menage, a light BDSM story, a virgin hero and heroine, and a winter/summer romance.

There’s a taste for everyone in here, so go on and take a bite.

 

Warning: BUY ME is full of alpha heroes, sassy heroines, and lots of gooey steam. It’s sweet enough, dirty enough, and gosh darn it, people love it.

 

All About the Series HERE – http://alexariley.com/series/mistress-auctions/

 

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Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to take you back to the room and give you what you’ve been begging for. Or is that what you’re after?”

Mandy giggles and leans into Charles, and I watch from behind them, trying my best not to eavesdrop. It’s not hard to overhear from just a few paces away, and I’m also trying my best not to look envious of the couple, but I can’t help that either.

I clear my throat to remind the casino owner that I’m still here, and they turn to look as if surprised to see me. Mandy blushes and looks away while Charles just smiles his devilish grin. Mr. and Mrs. Townsend have built the Snake Eyes casino into something wonderful, and I’m here today to talk about some opportunities for our casinos to work together.

I’ve owned the Blue Diamond casino for a few years now, taking it from a downtrodden, shabby dive to a shining jewel. I’ve been looking to expand some of our entertainment venues, and Charles is looking for the same. If we are able to work together, we both look to double our revenue, and it’s hard to turn down something like that. It’s unusual for casinos to promote one another, but Charles and I are birds of a feather. We both have a head for business and a strong work ethic. Although since Charles has gotten married, I can see he’s slowed down just a bit.

I would have slowed down with Tiffany. The thought enters my mind before I can stop it, and it hits me in the gut. I’m usually in better control of myself than that, but being close to a couple who are obviously so in love is eating away at me. My jealousy is palpable, and I have the urge to go throw up.

For years I searched for her. Do you know how many Tiffany Smiths are in the world? Fifty-two thousand, seven hundred and fifty-nine. And that’s assuming she didn’t change her name. I’ve gone through countless private detectives and more money than a normal man could make in a lifetime trying to find her. False hope and women pretending to be her have broken me over the years. I’ve built my empire in the hopes that one day she might find me. Hell, I even named my casino after her. I’ll never forget her bright blue eyes. I see them every time I close my own. Somewhere in my heart, I always thought we would find one another, but maybe she’s with someone else, moved on. The thought makes me clench my fists and grit my teeth. I only have myself to blame. I should have found her by now.

“You doing okay, Ethan?” Charles’s words snap me out of my angry guessing game, and I just nod, following him through the casino lobby.

“Have you seen Foxy’s new show?” Mandy asks, obviously trying to bring us back to business.

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t had the time. But I’ve heard great things.” We pass one of her posters for the old show, and I get a funny feeling in my stomach. It happens every time I see something that reminds me of my Tiffany. The poster is of a woman, turned away from the camera with only her head and shoulders visible. Her hair is white blonde with a pink bow pinned in it. The words Foxy Bow are emblazoned across the bottom in glitter. The picture doesn’t show her face, but the blonde hair makes me think of my girl. This is Vegas, though, and a bottle of bleach is on every street corner.

“Oh, we need to have these changed out. They are the old promotional banners. Come around the front and see the new one. I think they installed it just this morning.”

“Sure, sounds great.” I don’t know why I’m melancholy all of a sudden, but I think it’s because Tiffany is on my mind so much lately.

As we walk through the casino, I try to pay attention to the conversation. Charles and Mandy are discussing plans for the casinos and what they want as far as the future of our partnership is concerned. I spend most of my life working to get noticed by someone I haven’t seen in ten years. Someone who may or may not want to see me. Someone who may or may not even be alive.

I stop that train of thought as soon as it enters my mind. I would know if my soul was gone. I would feel it in my bones if she wasn’t still breathing. I’d know it.

The day I was pulled apart from her was the worst day of my life. When I was put in the back of that cop car by DCP, I begged them to take me back. I knew that if I was separated from her, something bad would happen. If I didn’t have my eyes on her at all times, he would get to her. I just knew her father was waiting for his chance.

When we got down to the police station, it turned out that they had found a relative of mine. I’d gone into foster care after my mother died. I was placed with the Mark family, who just happened to live next to my Tiffany. When I was at the darkest point in my life, it was like God sent her to me. To shine light on my dark world.

They found my grandfather, but he had recently passed, leaving everything he had to me. A pile of money and a casino that wasn’t turning a profit. As soon as the cops let me go, I raced back to Tiffany, only to find her gone. I beat the shit out of her father but later realized he didn’t know where she went either. So I started looking for her and building a life for us. Taking what my grandfather left me and increasing it tenfold. For her. For us.

“There she is. Our star.” Mandy waves her hand up, and I follow her line of sight.

I look up, seeing a huge banner stretched across the front entrance of the hotel, and as her ice blue eyes stare back at me, my knees go weak. It’s her. It’s my Tiffany. Clutching my chest, I nearly collapse to the floor, and Charles and Mandy rush to help me.

“Where?” I manage to choke out, but they don’t respond. They look at one another as if they’re confused. Like my whole world isn’t about to explode.

Where is Tiffany?!” I bellow, and it echoes off the black marble walls.

“She’s about to go on stage. What the fuck is wrong, Ethan?” Charles is still holding my arm to steady me, but I break free and run as fast as I can to the other side of the casino. My legs burn and my chest aches. It can’t be possible. It can’t be true. Please God, let it be true.

I don’t know what happens, or who I knock over to get there, but when I get to the entrance, security is there to try to stop me. I feel a sudden rage come over me and I turn, punching someone who puts a hand on me.

I see Charles out of the corner of my eye. He’s holding up his hands and telling people to let me pass. He must see that I’m in a fury that won’t be stopped.

When I get past the entrance, I walk into a dark room, seeing the stage at the end, and I watch the curtains part. A bright light centers on the woman, and all the air leaves my lungs.

Standing there, glowing with perfection, is my girl.

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Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

Author Links

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Alexa Riley

 

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Promise By Dani Wyatt ♥ Release Blitz

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Some promises are made to be broken. And others start out that way.

Promise Henderson knows all about being broken. She’s a down-on-her-luck former foster kid who needs to figure out how to get her brother into her custody before the State of Ohio ruins his life forever.

 

Enter Beckett Fitzgerald. A SEAL with a scarred face, a bad sense of humor and no place to call home. He has another asset though. A big one.

For ten years he’s tried to forget the girl with snow white hair and an angels eyes, but when fate throws her into his path once again, his obsession turns possessive and sparks fly.

 

Only, Promise has a Judas by her side vying for her heart and Beckett needs to reveal the truth before he loses her forever. Debts of the past come calling and Beckett shows her just how far he’s willing to go to protect what is his.

 

This full length novel has an over the top alpha hero, a curvy girl and some very saucy sexy times. Beckett and Promise get their happily ever after, but their story will continue. So if you like a romance with a heaping helping of HOT, step insi

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

“Where’s your bedroom?” His voice is deep and firm as his hands move lower, around my throat, gently tightening then letting go, and my head is full of some kind of heavy mist because I forgot where my room is.

“Down there, on the left.” I hear my answer, not sure what part of my brain is actually still functioning.

“I’ll get you to work on time, but I need you right now, and you need me.”

His hands whip around and scoop under my arms, lifting me like a doll to cling to him face to face. My body feels weightless, and my ankles lock around his back.

The motion of his walk and the nearness of his lips turn the quivering between my legs into a craving.

“That feel good?” he asks, tightening his grip, pressing me into him. I can feel the fabric of his t-shirt against my clit.

The scent of coffee and something masculine and spicy is making me feel drunk. I bury my face in his neck and inhale. I love the texture of his fresh shave, just a hint of course beard creating friction against my cheek. There is a burning inside me, and I want it — him — to consume me. To keep me here, clinging onto him.

His hands play up and down my spine as I hear him kick open the door to my bedroom.

Shit. Wait…

But the pause in his step reminds me of why I don’t want people in here.

I hold my breath, waiting for his arms to loosen and my feet to hit the ground as he stares at the furious disaster that is my bedroom.

But, he steps forward without a word, his lips on my cheek. Three more steps and he lays me down gently on my bed, pushing my hands over my head before rising to full height. For a moment, I see what others see.

His face turns from that smiling Beckett that helped me find my own smile to this intense monster with a primal glare looking down at me like his prey. When his brow comes together, the light from behind those amazing eyes offset with the close cut of his black hair sends me spinning.

“So fucking perfect.” He tastes me with his eyes, and I can feel it somewhere inside me that is new. Somewhere I’ve kept sealed up. Sealed off. Because it’s the place he could hurt me most.

I bring my arms down in defense. He’s seeing things I don’t want him to see.

His eyes flash, and his face turns dark.

“Don’t fucking do that. Don’t ever cover yourself in front of me. Understand?”

He’s using that voice again, and I don’t know whether to be frightened or cum.

He leans down, becoming a bridge over me as I stretch my arms back up to where he’d placed them.

“That’s good. Keep them there.” His lips are perfect, and they’re on mine. Little pathetic noises escape me as his tongue glides inside my lips. He doesn’t rush, and I want more. I want fast. But, the way he’s looking at me, it’s clear — I’m not the one in charge.

I want him inside of me. It’s all I can think as our mouths turn and move against each other.

This is what a kiss is meant to be. Something as simple as lips touching can make me feel like we know things about each other no one else knows. I’m telling him so many things I could never say out loud, and his kiss is telling me he wants to know it all.

His lips move to my forehead, feather soft, knowing more new things about me, and it takes all my will not to bring my hands down to wrap around whatever part of him I can reach.

I have to concentrate to take each breath. Some are deep yet most are so shallow, my head is getting lighter and lighter until I feel like I’m floating. Or falling.

Right into him. Hoping he’ll catch me.

Both his hands move up and tangle in my hair, holding me firm as his warm mouth discovers my collar bones, and then moves down, sucking my tit so deep into his mouth, I let out a cry.

My sounds loosen something in him. I feel it.

His lips turn to teeth on my sensitive flesh, biting down until my cry turns to a scream, but my hips raise up, my body begging for so much more.

I want this; I want this pain because it comes from him.

And, it fills in parts of me that need filling.

He moves to the other side, dropping one hand from my hair and grazing down over my stomach.

I can feel his power as he releases me from his mouth, his hand flat on my belly and his eyes watching me as I lie quivering.

“Spread your legs.” It’s not a request; it’s clearly an order.

And I freeze.

 

 

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Passionate couple in bed

 

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Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.

http://eepurl.com/bubxzz

 

She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.

 

When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.

 

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Possess by Kaye Blue ♥ Cover Reveal

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Expected Publication April 27, 2016

 

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

No weakness.

Maxim has stayed alive—and on top—for twenty years through a ruthless combination of brains and brutality. He’s grown the Syndicate into one of the world’s most powerful criminal enterprises.

He cares for no one.

Except her.

The woman he never should have saved…the one who holds the remnants of his long-dead heart.

No limits.

Senna doesn’t know why Maxim spared her all those years ago, or why he’s kept her by his side. But she does know that nothing—not his beautiful cruelty, not the black void where his heart should be—can stop her from loving him. Wanting him.

Even though she shouldn’t.

No turning back.

Years of obsession sharpen to a knife’s edge when Senna begins to crave her freedom. And when an old rival discovers her existence, Maxim must fight to keep her alive, even as he battles his need to possess her completely…no matter the cost.

 

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Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Kaye writes hot, gritty, suspenseful romance featuring alpha males and the women who love them.

Author Links

 

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Promise By Dani Wyatt ♥ Chapter Reveal

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Release Date March 24th

 

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Flames stole his childhood. Scorched his family. Scarred his face. Beckett Fitzgerald assimilated his hatred and his pain and gave it to the government. They trained him to kill and his life was set. Or so he thought.

 

Promise Henderson lives in quiet desperation. Her art is her solace, her brother her world. Only the State of Ohio has control over him and her only purpose left in life is to save Jordan from the same horrors she suffered. When the scarred face of a dark haired man with Monet blue eyes and a warrior’s countenance walks into her life everything changes.

 

When Beckett sees her, he knows this is his last chance. The little girl from the courtroom ten years ago is standing in front of him and he knows he cannot fail her again. One moment — one choice he made altered the course of her life forever. He must decide to go back to the only life that made sense to him, or tear down her walls and settle the debts of the past.

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

Chapter One

Beckett

{Eight Years Later}

I’ve got my hand over Denise’s mouth.

She’s the loudest woman I’ve ever fucked. Not that I’ve fucked that many, I have to be honest, but enough to know that Denise is loud.

Her dime store, blue eyeshadow and the ever present snapping piece of Wrigley’s Spearmint didn’t deter my cock from being seduced by my landlord.

She’s Mrs. Robinson with red hair and a tramp stamp.

Her thirty-something body is twisted under me like a pretzel, the crooks of her elbows locked around the bend of her knees, holding herself high and wide. It’s how she likes it, and it sets my dick coal-miner deep, so win-win.

I’m in fifth gear. The sound of wet flesh slapping and the bed denting the plaster wall must be heard in all seven bedrooms plus the kitchen of this makeshift boarding house on the low rent end of Cleveland’s ass. Denise is letting loose, bucking like we’re in a damn rodeo while I try to muffle her crazy-ass screams with my hand.

I mean, come on. All that noise is distracting as fuck. I like to know the chick taking it from me is getting off, but I don’t need the whole fucking zip code to know.

She’s about to toss us both off the mattress when I realize the sheet is tangled around my foot. If we don’t finish this up, I may end up in the ER with a snapped ankle and a story to tell. I’m trying to kick the twisted linen off and not miss a beat. This is the second round with her this morning, and I should be enjoying myself, right?

But, I can’t keep my eyes off the clock.

7:41 AM.

Wrap it up, Mrs. Robinson.

I take my hand off her mouth. Her dilated, red-rimmed, emerald eyes widen then she gasps.

“Oh gawwwddddd— oh god!”

She starts right up with the fucking noise, so I slap my palm back onto her mouth.

I tip my hips, grinding down into her until her eyes roll to white, and I feel the tightness start to grab my dick. Then, I feel a warm rush as she gushes and from the way she’s flouncing and quivering, I’m hoping she’s done.

The muscles in my back spasm when Denise let’s go and her ankles lock behind my ass. I knock the last thrust home, and my chin falls to my chest. I cum along with her. It’s a sense of relief, but that’s about it.

A minute later, I’m off the bed, the discarded latex already taking a spin into the sewer and the shower heating up.

“You…” She points to me, making that single word sound like an accusation.

Denise is propped up on the threadbare floral pillows, checking her manicure and snapping on a fresh piece of Wrigley’s. Her tits are motionless, silicone coconuts standing unnaturally high on her torso.

Personally, I prefer whatever size mother nature designed. I’ll take a double A true-blue over triple D fakery any day.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble, you know that? I shoulda never rented you that room.”

A touch of her Brooklyn roots comes through.

“How are you in trouble?” I put one hand on my forehead and one on my chin and jerk my head around. The twist and the pop pop pop as much a part of my morning routine as taking a piss.

I blow out a breath, feeling the momentary pressure-release the neck cracking gives. I’ll do that twenty times today. I have to.

No. Of course not. But someone’s gonna catch on. And, I don’t even want to talk about Leon. If he finds out, we’re both dead. That lady in that back bedroom looks like a bible thumper. She might stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Denise’s shrill voice rakes on my nerves. She is so much more appealing when my damn dick is in charge.

I want to tell her if she didn’t howl like a fucking hyena on a fresh carcass, maybe half the neighborhood wouldn’t know she was letting the resident who rents room 4B bone her twice a day and three times on Saturday.

Why I don’t have a better sense of self-preservation, I’m not sure. I should. I‘ve seen enough shit to last me seven lifetimes.

She’s right about Leon. He would probably kill me first, then kill her with my dead body.

“How would Leon find out? Huh? You said he got picked up last night, right?” I have to yell over the rush of the shower as I stick my hand in to check the temperature.

The steam is hanging in clouds and beginning to mist the mirror that is cracked like an old road map. Whoever mounted it must have been on their knees or ten years old. All I can see in it is the bottom of the shiny, textured skin on my left shoulder and the cut of my abs… along with the shadows of my ribs.

I need some groceries.

I like this mirror. My face is not my best feature.

I step into the shower trying to keep my thoughts about the day in check.

“Yep, he got picked up at the Diablo’s.  That biker bar on 2nd.” I hear the faint squeak of the bed springs just when I lean back into the steaming water, squirting shampoo into my hand.

Denise’s sharp voice makes me jump as she pokes her head around the shower curtain, her eyes shamelessly settling down below my waist with a wicked grin.

Not again, crazy. I’ve got real life happening today.

“He’s in holding at county.” She glances up over my chest, avoiding my face, then back down. “Two warrants and he won’t see the judge ‘til Monday.” She’s snapping her gum, and each time she does it my neck twitches.

My twitching is nothing new, but she’s not helping. Today isn’t just another day. It’s when a judge decides what I already know. That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself without help from the State of Ohio.

Don’t climb in here with me, please.

I lay my head back into the stream of hot water and close my eyes. Luckily, when I look again, her face is gone.

I throw on the one dress shirt I own and a worn pair of khakis. It’s the best I’ve got, and it’s been my standard uniform for the many days I’ve found myself visiting the fifth district court over the years.

One swipe of my fingers through my hair and I’m ready. I can’t see myself in the damn mirror without bending down, but I’m sure I’m as presentable as need be. I grab my backpack, double check my files and sketchbook are inside, then deep breath, and I’m on my way. My hand is on the door, my mind already halfway down the street.

“Do you even know how old I am?” I spin my head around to see Denise sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheets still twisted in a heap.

I grit my teeth until my jaw pops.

“No.”

Her eyes light on my face then dart away. I’m used to people looking away, but when that person  just came on my dick four times, they should give me the courtesy of looking at me when they talk.

“Well, I’m not telling you.” She flashes me what she thinks is a coy smile, but it comes off as sad. She stands up and takes a step toward me.

Jesus, whatever.

I should tell her she’s beautiful. That’s what she wants. But, I’ve never told anyone that. My mother was beautiful, and I don’t just mean in the physical sense. No woman since has made me think of that word.

“I’m leaving.” I should say something else.

Something nice, less pragmatic.  Something nice.

She still won’t look at me, standing there with her silicone double D’s and a worn, pale green bath towel in one hand.

“Bye.” She chirps going for cute, and I don’t miss her added eyeroll.

She knows where I’m going, what I have to do today, and she’s pouting? Why I don’t think with my brain instead of my dick sometimes is beyond me.

I let out the breath I’ve been holding. I shouldn’t be fucking my landlord anyway, especially since her boyfriend is facing twenty to life.

My neck is aching, and I can’t stop the urge to twist and jerk my head three more times as I pull the door shut behind me.

Half a step down the hall and I hear the click of the bedroom door latch opening.

“Hey.” Denise’s voice is softer.

I turn and see the towel is thankfully around her torso. Her bedroom is on the first floor, and this hallway has three other rented bedrooms. So, it’s common courtesy to at least wear a towel where there may be other eyes — though I’ve lived in plenty of places where the word courtesy is as foreign as proper hygiene.

“Good luck today.” She forces herself to look me in the eyes. I can see her counting silently, trying to maintain eye contact a few seconds longer than makes her comfortable.

“Thanks,”  I say.

She looks down at the floor after a few seconds, and I make my way toward the back door.

At the end of the hall, I’m already wondering who I’ll be at the end of the day. Will I feel different? Will there be any relief?

“I could fall in love with you, you know.” Her voice knocks me in the back of the head.

Oh, hell no.

I’m not turning around for that. Not now. Not today.

~~~~~~

 

It is ironic that on a day like today when something big is about to happen, I notice more of the small things.

Dimitri that works the metal detector didn’t shave this morning.

I toss my wallet, keys, and cell phone in the little plastic tray. No one needs to tell me what to do.

I also know exactly how much money I have in my wallet. Exactly zero.

Dimitri gives me a full nod with eye contact this morning.

Even he knows.

We’ve never exchanged much more than a few words here and there over the years. Today, I see something else in the movement of his head, the way he takes a deeper breath as I pass.

I fucking hate pity.

I step through the X-ray archway.

With any luck, when I walk out of here, I’ll be legit. On my own, according to the great State of Ohio.

Not that I haven’t been on my own for a long freakin’ time already. But, according to the law, I still need supervision. That shit is hilarious.

I grab my wallet and keys after I’m cleared through the metal detector when I look down and see the dark gray, flattened spot of someone’s discarded gum on the marble floor.

What kind of asshole does that?

I guess some asshole that might not like the way things are going for them. This place is ripe with people who think they’re getting the shitty end of the stick. Most of them sharpened the damn stick themselves and went about doing as much damage with it as they could. Then, they’re surprised when their lives turn into an episode of Cops.

You need a license for almost anything, right?

Want to drive? Well, you need to take a class, then a test, and then you have to abide by a fuck-ton of rules, or they will snatch that precious piece of freedom from you.

You want a dog? Get a license.

You want to burn leaves in the fall? You need a permit.

You want to start a business? Get a shit-ton of licenses, permits, and forms.

You wanna have a kid? Do your thing, nothing else required.

All along the top of the hallway ahead of me, there are slanted white streaks of dusty sunlight filtering through elevated windows. I’ve made this trek so many times.

I see the wide eyes and pinched brows on the people I pass. There is an overwhelming stink of old cigarette smoke when I walk by a forty-something lady with a worn, thick manila envelope clutched in her hand.

It’s not enough that none of the damn windows open in this catacomb of limestone and marble. You add in too many humans and not enough soap, stir that up with lawyers and the sharp scent of whatever they use to polish the floors, and my stomach is ready to reveal my breakfast.

My boots make a thunk-scrape sound with each step. Thunk-scrape, thunk-scrape.

I dip my right shoulder and put more weight on the right step than the left. For some reason, today I notice the uneven cadence.

Miriam at the information desk has a line of irritated people in front of her, yet she still manages to catch my eye, and I wink.

She tugs her lips to the side in an attempt to squash her smile. In her job, it’s important to stay in character. Just as quickly as I pick up on the rare curve of her lips, I see the same look that Dimitri gave me.

Pity and relief.

People pity me either because they know my past or because they can see the evidence of it on my face.

People feel relieved because whatever has happened to me, hasn’t happened to them.

I notice the way kids stare and adults look away. By now, it’s just an observation. I used to get pissed, now I understand.

I get it.

I catch a reflection in the glass that runs along the mile-long hallway outside the courtroom doors. I tower above most people. My hair isn’t unruly, but it does need a cut. Due to budgetary restrictions, a trip to the barber will have to wait.

The wall of glass is on my right, the heavy doors along my left. I hear the sniffles of a girl before I see her. I look down where she stands next to a bored looking woman with a thick file in her hands.

God damn, how hard would it be just to talk to her? Comfort her? Distract her from whatever bullshit is waiting for her today.

She’s probably six years old. I can’t help but notice she has a huge, unkempt knot in her dirty, blonde hair. She’s wearing a ponytail, a messy one, but no one bothered to brush her fucking hair before she came to court. Really?

On top of that, her socks don’t match, and she’s wearing green sweatpants with a cartoon image of The Hulk on one pant leg. Her oversized, yellow t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and I can see the jut of her collarbones through her pale skin.

Jesus, my heart breaks looking at her.

Sorry kiddo, life ain’t fair. Get a good armor going.

I try to smile at her, but she won’t meet my eye. I want to scoop her up and tell her I get it. I understand. You can’t trust anyone. Especially the adults.

A blast of cool air hits me as I open the doors to Judge Horace Carmichael’s courtroom. I give my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, and I knit my brow straining to see as I step inside.

From behind, Louis’s voice greets me.

“Early as usual.” He has a voice that needs to be on the radio.

I like Louis. He’s the only — and I do mean only — person I’ve met in this bureaucracy that even hints at still retaining some humanity.

And a sense of humor.

That is not easy.

Louis’s barrel chest and dark stare would be intimidating attached to anyone else. He’s a monolith, towering over me by a good three inches. He must get his hair buzzed every day, because, in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen it noticeably longer or shorter. A few more silver hairs replace black each year, but that’s the only change I’ve been able to detect.

“Yep. So, everything good? You think we’re good?” I despise the insecurity in my voice.

“Well, you know I’m always honest.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “Yes, I think we’re good. Could it still go sideways? Sure, there’s always that chance.”

“Fuck.” My hands go up and over my head, rubbing back and forth, gaining momentum. I can’t believe we could come this far and have it all fall apart.

I’m not going back. They can hang me by my balls; I’m not going. I will not live another day in another foster home.

“Hey.” Louis senses my rising ire, and he knows that will not work in my favor in front of the judge. “Breathe. I have a good feeling, okay? We’ve got all your bills, school records, recommendations — all the proof you’ve been knocking it out of the park on your own. You are the most organized almost-eighteen-year-old I’ve ever met.” He laughs, but I can still hear that halt of doubt in his voice.

I’m making a sound like a pressure relief valve on a steam engine when Louis lands a solid hand on my shoulder. My neck is twitching like a motherfucker.

After almost a year of taking care of myself under the watchful eye of my current social worker, I get a notice that Child Protective Services wants to place me in yet another foster home.  Fuck that.  I worked my ass off getting them to agree to let me live on my own even though I had just turned seventeen at the time.  They said it was a probationary arrangement, but I hit all my high notes for a year.  I worked, paid my bills, kept my grades in the four-dot-oh range and then this?

So, after I got the letter, I wrangled Louis and my social worker and petitioned the court to release me permanently from the nurturing care of CPS.  I’m just a bump shy of my eighteenth, so fucking come on already.

Louis gives my shoulder a squeeze, he can feel my tension.  He’s one of the only people I let touch me. I’m not a fan of people in my personal space.

“I’ve got another case coming before Judge Carmichael today. She should be here by now.” He scans the nearly empty courtroom and looks at his watch. “Just wait here, and I’ll be back.”

Louis turns away as I settle into the rearmost row of benches tossing my backpack next to me.

He stops a few steps away. “You bring your notebook?” He sets his eyes on me, raising his eyebrows.

It’s a rhetorical question; he knows I have it. I always have it.

“I want you to start right now. You’ll want to have something about today. I’ve got a feeling things will go your way.”

Over the years, I’ve discovered that sketching and drawing relieves my stress. Whenever I have a court date, I’m sketching faces, writing down thoughts, snippets of things I hear. It’s become a part of me.

Louis is out the door. There are two other people inside with me, huddled together in the kind of hushed whispers you find in the cool darkness of a court of law.

The room feels like a bulkhead, and no one leaves quite the same way they came in.

I unzip the top of my back pack and pull out my files and sketchbook.  I flip it open to a blank page and shift forward on the bench to dig for the pencil in my back pocket. I set pencil to paper. I love the sound of the surfaces meeting, and then making something new from the friction. I start writing.

Let this be the last fucking time.

I can’t go back.

I won’t go back.

The soft squeak of the hinges on the massive door draws my eye.

The very instant I lay eyes on her, my pencil comes to life.

Louis is guiding a young man a little younger than me inside the courtroom and gets him settled in a bench toward the front.

Right behind him, I see another little girl accompanied by what must be her social worker hustling into the room. Her eyes dart around like a cornered mouse, their color near translucent. Like the crystal clear shallow water of a tropical shore, I want to look away, but I’m mesmerized. Her hair falls to her waist in a tangle of silk the color of antique porcelain. She is as close to a living, breathing china doll as there could ever be.

My eyelids burn when she turns toward me. Her ivory cheek is decorated with an angry purple and red circle. I notice how she crinkles her nose when she looks up at the woman by her side, hoping she will be the one to save her. Because I can see she needs saving.  Then for just a moment, our eyes meet.

This broken, little soul with white hair and skin to match digs her sheer blue eyes into mine so deep, I feel her fear. My heart shatters inside my chest as I see the pain in her eyes and the way she moves so softly, gliding instead of walking.  Her arms around her waist, holding onto herself, hoping for protection that she seems to know will never come.

Someone else was born inside of me that day. Someone that knew she was part of me.

 

Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.

http://eepurl.com/bubxzz

 

She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.

 

When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.

 

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Lay It Down by Carina Adams ♥ Chapter Reveal

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lay it down - chapter reveal

 

Release Date : April 7th

 

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          Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

The Bastards MC Series Boxed contains the first two books in the series – Always Been Mine and Honey Whiskey

 

Josephine Walker:

My carefully constructed, picture perfect life is crumbling around me. For the first time in fifteen years, I don’t know who I want to be.

 

I need to find me.

 

I’m done playing it safe, done caring what others think. I want wild and crazy. And, as much as I try to ignore it, I want Matt to see me as more than just his best friend.

 

Matty Murphy:

The Bastards live in a world most don’t understand. We follow our own rules, only accountable to each other, the innocents we protect, and the people we couldn’t save. Each of us wears a mask, hiding behind a polite smile and a respectable job, covering the monsters inside. I made peace with who I was a long time ago. I have no regrets.

 

Except one.

 

Jo Walker. I’m not letting her go without a fight.

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

Prologue

Matty

A giggle floated across the room, snagging my attention from the conversation a few of the guys were having around me. I didn’t have to look up to know who the contagious sound was coming from—Joes had a laugh like no other. It was a sound that always made me smile.

Then again, Jo had an uncanny ability to make everyone around her react that way. I’d once bet a co-worker he couldn’t spend the entire day locked in a car with her without laughing. The crotchety old bastard was adamant that she was annoying as fuck and he wouldn’t as much as crack a smile. He’d even rolled his eyes at her as they were leaving, scowling at whatever story she’d been sharing.

I didn’t gloat—much—when he walked up at the end of the day and put a fifty in my hand. I did laugh loudly as I walked to my car, but that was only because I’d been in his shoes.

I may have been a member of the Josephine Walker fan club, but after that day, Robert Pappas became the president. Any time one of our co-workers complained about the new kid, Old Bobby—as Jo affectionately called him—was quick to put them in their place. Easiest money I’d ever made.

Another laugh pulled my thoughts back to the present, and I looked up, watching her with our work friends. A group of us had come out for our monthly “Babes and Booze” night; I inwardly cringed at the God-awful title it had been given. It was the one evening a month when we grabbed our significant others and went out drinking to forget that we were responsible adults, a night we all looked forward to for weeks.

There was only one rule: no talking about work. It might sound simple to follow, but at least one of us broke it every month. We couldn’t leave the job at the office, no matter how hard we tried. A bad case stayed with you long after you’d gone home. We all had ‘em, but some of us were a lot more fucking unlucky than others. Sometimes you just needed to lift the bottle, drown the memories, and depend on your friends to get you home.

Tonight, that was my plan. As much as I loved my job, some days I wished I’d stayed a carpenter. A bored housewife who wanted to flirt with the help was a hell of a lot easier to forget than the case I’d been assigned this week. Todd, a tiny toddler, had been beaten bloody because his mom didn’t have one fucking ounce of maternal instinct and lacked even the smallest amount of motherly love. I’d seen some fucked up shit—hell, we all had in this job—but I’d never forget his bruised face, eye swollen shut, and the fear that made every inch of his body shrink away when I walked into his hospital room. He would never remember the words I had whispered or even begin to understand what I meant when I promised him he’d never go through it again. But I’d never forget.

That kid had gotten to me. Part of me wanted to scoop him up and take him home, spend the rest of my life making sure he never missed another meal or bath and proving to him that he could be a kid, a real kid, without fear of physical harm. Another part of me wanted to call Rocker and have the boys come take care of the parents, just to make sure they never got him back. Instead, I did my job. I let the law work the way it was designed and prayed that it wouldn’t let me down. Because I sure as shit didn’t know how I would react if his parents got him back and hurt him again. I wasn’t sure I could do my job if there was a next time.

I could rest easier knowing that one of the best foster moms I had ever worked with was staying at his bedside at the hospital until Todd was discharged. Then she would take him home and love him like her own until his parents could get their shit together. She would hold him, and scare away the monsters in the night, tell him he was adorable and funny and sweet, and give him lots of kisses. She was a fucking saint, the kind of mom every kid deserved. The idea that she might save him then I’d have to take him back to shitty-ass parents pissed me off.

Three days later and I was still pissed off. I could feel the tension flow through my body, as if it was just waiting for someone to infuriate me further so I could use my fists and get out some of this anger. I took a long drag off my bottle, hoping it would help me forget this week.

Joes picked that moment to look over at me, her smile slowly fading into a frown as she caught my eye. Shit! I hadn’t even realized I was giving her the death glare until she raised an eyebrow and tipped her head in silent question. I shook mine, hoping she would understand that she wasn’t my target, and sent her a quick smile. Our friend Teagan grabbed Jo’s arm, dragging her eyes away from mine, and said something that made everyone laugh.

Jesus, she was gorgeous when she laughed. My mouth was suddenly dry, and I took another gulp of my Sam Adams, unable to tear my eyes away from her. She’d pulled her dark hair back, giving me the perfect view of her face; her usually pale skin had a pink tone tonight, probably from all the alcohol she’d consumed, but it suited her. Even from halfway across the bar, I could see the pale blue-green of her eyes. She was beautiful all the time, but when she laughed…

No. I shook my head, scowling at my thoughts. She was taken. Seriously fucking taken. Happily married taken. I ground my teeth at the idea. Married to a fucking douchenozzle who didn’t even begin to deserve her. I may have some serious shit buried deep, but compared to that fucker, I looked like a prince. I took another swig, pissed at my thoughts. She was my Joes, my best friend. That was it. That was all she could ever be, and any other ideas that filtered through my mind, I’d blame on the booze or my miserably fucked up week. Just another reason for me to be pissed off at the world.

I needed a shot. Screw one—I needed ten. Chased by a couple glasses of Jack. I turned back to my buddies, made my excuses, and headed to the bar.

“You okay?” Joey’s voice was full of concern as she slid up to the counter next to me.

I nodded, threw my head back, and swallowed, hissing as the harsh liquor burned its way down my throat. “I will be.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

I could feel her heated gaze but refused to look at her. I didn’t need to see the concern I was sure was etched all over her face. Instead I shook my head and lifted the next shot in line. She chuckled, and I turned to her in surprise.

“Jesus, you are a stubborn ass!” She shook her head, but I couldn’t tell if it was in annoyance or humor. Then she smiled and stepped in closer, wrapping her arms around my hips. “I’m sorry you had such a rough day.”

I sighed, moving my arm around her back and pulling her close. If she didn’t care that Billy or our friends saw us like this, I didn’t either. Fuck ‘em. Half of ‘em thought we were already screwing, and the other half knew she thought of me like a big brother. I couldn’t care less about any of their opinions. As for Billy, he could suck it. I leaned my chin down to rest on the top of her head, enjoying her soft body against me, while she gave me a quick squeeze then pulled away.

I let her back up but kept my arm over her shoulders. My mood instantly improved. “What was that for?”

She smiled up at me then shrugged. “You needed a hug.” She laughed lightly, as if embarrassed by her actions. She tipped her head back to meet my eyes then wrinkled her nose. “I like her.”

One of the many reasons she was my best friend, Jo was a master at changing the subject and could distract me from even my worst thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jo smirked. “I mean, obviously she’s gonna wake up in a few weeks and wonder why in the hell she’s dating an old man who looks like you, but in the meantime, she seems pretty great.”

“Old man, huh? Last time I checked, you were about a minute younger than me.”

“Dude, you turn thirty-five next month and that’s ancient!” Her eyes grew wide in exaggeration, and she laughed. “And what is she, like, twelve?”

I snorted. Tay definitely looked a lot younger than twenty-six. “Yep, something like that.” I couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Seriously though, she is beautiful. You weren’t lying; I think she may be the prettiest woman I’ve ever met.” A frown crossed her features, but she cleared her face before I could say anything.

I raised an eyebrow, sure I was missing something.

“And she’s nice. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think you’ve finally found it.”

“It?” I didn’t want to know what she meant, but I had to ask.

“Your future.” I didn’t know what to say, and she shrugged knowingly. “You don’t have to say anything, but it’s been written all over your face all night. You’re distracted because of work, yeah, but you’ve got this goofy surprised look too. As if you just realized something important. Kind of like the one you had when you realized you were in love with Becky.” Jo moved her attention to the bar, as if avoiding me, and grabbed my glass of whiskey. After taking a giant gulp, she turned back to me. “I was worried. After Bex…”

She bit her bottom lip and “hmphed” the way she did when she was debating something. That habit always distracted me and pulled my thoughts to places they shouldn’t be, like wondering what sounds she would make if it was my teeth sinking into her. Forcing my mind to clear, I raised the third shot and downed it fast.

“I just worry about you.”

“I know.” I’d been a screwed up mess after my divorce; there wasn’t a bottle of booze I didn’t like.

Joes had come to my hotel a few weeks after I’d left my house, and she made me sober up. She stayed with me for days while I acted like a pathetic loser, whining and crying and telling her I didn’t have a future without my wife or kid. It was an embarrassing time, and I’d wiped most of it from my mind—of course she’d remembered.

I swallowed hard. “You really think Taylor’s future material? ‘Cause she’s obviously too good for me.”

Jo chuckled. “Obviously. But she’s young and you’re… well, you’re you. She’s probably convinced she’s the lucky one.” She shook her head again. “You be nice to her!”

I’d been seeing Taylor for a few weeks, and even though I’d told Jo all about her and Taylor all about Joes, I’d been dreading introducing them. Becky hadn’t been bothered by the fact that my best friend was a woman; she trusted me, and I never would have betrayed that trust. But some—hell, most—of the women I’d dated since the divorce didn’t feel the same way. My last girlfriend had been convinced that I was going to leave her for Jo one day; instead I broke it off because she wouldn’t stop obsessing and wanted me to stop seeing Joes anywhere other than work. I apparently needed to come with a warning label: Hot female best friend included. Petty, self-centered, and jealous women need not apply.

Taylor wasn’t jealous of anyone; she knew she was damn close to perfection and didn’t have a problem letting everyone know she was God’s gift to men. Yet not only was the threat of another woman still there, but I would do anything for the other woman in this scenario. I just didn’t know how Tay would feel once she figured out how close Joes and I really were.

I was worried about Jo too. She’d been crushed after my divorce. She tells everyone that I’m her best friend, but there were times when it seemed that she and Bex were closer than we were. She’d laugh and tell me it was the “girl code” that made her take Becky’s side in arguments and that I was still her best friend. I’d complain about it, but secretly, I liked the fact that the two of them were cohorts, because it meant I got to spend more time with my two favorite girls. When Bex left me though, she’d dropped Jo too, devastating my friend. I didn’t want to be the cause of that pain again. If she and Taylor got close, and Tay and I didn’t work out, Joes would be left once more.

It had been almost a month since we’d started dating, almost two since we’d met, and it was time for me to introduce the two most important women in my life. Figures it would happen at such a fan-fucking-tastic time, but the week had already been shit, and if they didn’t like each other, that would be par for the course my life had taken lately. I may not have shown it, but I was relieved to avoid that bomb and happy that at least Jo liked Taylor.

“When am I not nice?”

Jo only answered my question with an angry one-eyebrow look.

“Hey!” I held up my hands in defense. “I’m nice to her!” I laughed.

“Who are you being nice to?” Pretty Boy Billy Boy came up behind Jo and wrapped his arms around her possessively.

There wasn’t a single man in that bar still wearing what they’d worn to work except for him. No, everyone else had gone home and changed into jeans. But Billy? His pompous ass needed the entire world to see he wore a suit and tie; he needed everyone to think he was important.

Fucking asshat. I reached for my glass and took a long drink as he slid his face into Jo’s neck. I fucking hated him with every fiber of my body, but I nodded my hello. “Billy.”

“Matt.” His voice was just as cool as mine; there was clearly only one reason we needed to talk to each other, and she was standing right between us. He gave Joes a quick squeeze, making her squeak. “You ready to go, Pudge? I’m exhausted!”

My hand tightened on the glass when I heard the nickname he still used. Fucking hate him. I clenched my jaw, remembering the promise I’d made to Jo last year about minding my own goddamned business. As much as I wanted to beat his ass into oblivion for the sly way he constantly talked down to her, I had to hold it in. He was Jo’s choice, not mine. My job was to support her.

Pudge, Joes told me once, was his term of endearment for her. I didn’t understand how a name like that could ever be anything other than an insult. And only an absolute selfish fuck would not be able to see how much it bothered her; it freaking bothered me for her. She wasn’t fat. I hated the word curvy—since it had been overused in the last few years to explain away obesity—but that was exactly what Jo was. She reminded me of the 50s pin-up girls in Uncle Liam’s workshop—full and round in all the right places, tight and toned in the rest. Lately she’d gotten too thin for my liking, a fact I blamed on Billy and his insulting nickname. I tried to keep my face blank but knew my repulsion must show.

Jo caught my look, and for an instant, shame drifted over hers and she broke eye contact. Patting Billy’s hand, she nodded. “Yeah, babe. I’ll be right there. Go get the coats?” Billy grumbled but retreated back to their table, and she turned eyes that vaguely reminded me of the Caribbean Sea to me. “You sure you’re okay? ‘Cause if you need me to, I can stay.” She smirked suddenly. “I’m not sure how your girlfriend would feel about me hitching a ride home, but…”

I fought the urge to haul her into my arms and instead cupped the softness of her cheek. I stared into her eyes, getting lost for a minute as I thought about what I really wanted to say. Fucking right I need you to stay. I need you to come home with me, need you to make this entire week fade into oblivion. Reality crept in, and I shook my head. “No. Go home. I need to go save Taylor from Teagan anyway.”

She reached a hand up, covering mine. “You know I’m here if you need me, right? I’ll always be just a phone call away.”

I nodded. There wasn’t much I was sure about anymore, but that fact was clear.

She dropped her hand to my chest as she stepped into me, stretching up on tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. “Love you, Matty.” She smiled quickly then backed away, my hand falling from her. “See you tomorrow!” Jo called over her shoulder as she made her way to Billy.

I finished off the whiskey before I turned and leaned back against the bar. Taylor was lost in conversation with a group of clerks from work, not even noticing that I wasn’t where she’d left me earlier. I watched her laugh with my friends, waiting for her to realize I was staring, hoping she could feel my eyes on her. She never gave me as much as a glance.

Jo was wrong; Taylor wasn’t my future. I had to be honest with myself, as much as I fucking hated the idea. There was only one woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, and she was taken by a dickwad who thought he was too good for her. If she was mine, I’d do anything to keep a smile on her face, make her happy, and keep her safe.

I glowered at that thought, knowing I’d never have the chance. The ball-busting truth was that Billy wasn’t the only one bad for her; the skeletons in my closet terrified even me and were hidden away for a damned good reason. If Joes knew a quarter of my shit, the secrets I kept, she’d run away screaming. I’d never be able to let her in because once I did, she’d leave and never look back. That was not a chance I was willing to take.

No, Jo would never be mine.

That cold hard fact pissed me off more than everything else that had happened this week. Fuck my life. I turned back to the bar and ordered another round.

 

Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Carina Adams has been writing and creating characters for as long as she can remember, allowing her to fall in love with the next man of her dreams with every new story.

Thankfully, fate stepped in and granted her the ultimate wish – a life full of men. Carina lives in a picturesque New England town with her husband, the man who ruined the thought of all others, and two amazing sons who always keep her on her toes.

Carina received her MBA in May, but would much rather play with her imaginary friends (the voices in her head) than work her 8 to 5. When she isn’t trying to juggle being a working mom with karate and football practices, surprising her children with her sci-fi movie knowledge, or writing, you can find her with her nose pressed against her kindle, laughing with friends, or living life vicariously as her Derby Girl persona, Writers Block.

Carina is the author the of Bastards MC series and best selling Forever Red. She is currently writing Out of The Blue, the follow up to Forever Red. She loves to hear feedback from her readers, no matter what type. You can email her at:

Author links

Facebook  Goodreads    Amazon page

 

Ardent 4

 

 

 

 

 

Vexed by Phoenyx Slaughter ♥ Cover Reveal

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ardent Cover Reveal

 

Release Date : April 4th

 

Cover designed by: AJ Lake

 

Pre-order links

 

.99 cents pre-order until release day.

 

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Falling in love will only leave you vexed.

Recent high school graduate, Athena Vale might seem bubbly and uncomplicated, but she has big plans and even bigger dreams, she’s only ever shared with her best friend, Karina. Athena’s strict upbringing has left her curious about taking a walk on the wild side—just once. And she knows exactly who she wants to go wild with.

President of the Iron Bulls MC, Reed “Romeo” Crownover has no shortage of women willing to entertain him. But these days, there’s only one girl on his mind —Athena. When she shows up at his clubhouse on the night of her eighteenth birthday, he decides it’s time to work her out of his system.

But one night turns into two, two turns into three, and soon the no-strings fun turns into something more passionate than either of them expected. An intense romance neither of them have ever experienced or knew they wanted.

She’s half his age.

He doesn’t fit in her world.

She’s leaving for Los Angeles to start a new life in a few days.

Their connection was vexed from the start.

Vexed is the fourth novella in the Iron Bulls MC series. Although Romeo and Athena make brief appearances in the first three books, Vexed can be read as a stand-alone. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

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Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Phoenyx “Nyx” Slaughter has many roles, including writer, reader, and roughneck wrangler. She loves taboo stories—the filthier the better.

She loves to travel and meet new people with similar interests. Feel free to visit her on facebook or send her an email: NyxSlaughter@gmail.com

 

Author Links

 

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Lay it Down (The Bastards MC Box Set) By Carina Adams ♥ Cover Reveal

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Release Date : April 7th

 

Pre-order links

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Josephine Walker:

 

My carefully constructed, picture perfect life is crumbling around me. For the first time in fifteen years, I don’t know who I am. Worse, I don’t know who I want to be.

 

I need to find me.

I’m done playing it safe, done caring what other people think. I want wild and crazy. And, as much as I try to ignore it, I want Matt to see me as more than just his best friend.

 

Matty Murphy:

 

The Bastards live in a world that most don’t understand. We follow our own rules, only accountable to each other, the innocents we protect, and the people we couldn’t save. Each of us wears a mask, hiding behind a polite smile and a respectable job, covering the monsters inside. I made peace with who I was a long time ago. I have no regrets.

 

Except one.

 

Jo Walker. I’m not letting her go without a fight.

 

LayItDown_FrontCover

LayItDown_FullCover

 

 

 

 

kiss of a beautiful young girl and a hot man

Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Carina Adams has been writing and creating characters for as long as she can remember, allowing her to fall in love with the next man of her dreams with every new story.

Thankfully, fate stepped in and granted her the ultimate wish – a life full of men. Carina lives in a picturesque New England town with her husband, the man who ruined the thought of all others, and two amazing sons who always keep her on her toes.

Carina received her MBA in May, but would much rather play with her imaginary friends (the voices in her head) than work her 8 to 5. When she isn’t trying to juggle being a working mom with karate and football practices, surprising her children with her sci-fi movie knowledge, or writing, you can find her with her nose pressed against her kindle, laughing with friends, or living life vicariously as her Derby Girl persona, Writers Block.

Carina is the author the of Bastards MC series and best selling Forever Red. She is currently writing Out of The Blue, the follow up to Forever Red. She loves to hear feedback from her readers, no matter what type. You can email her at:

Author links

Facebook  Goodreads  Contact email  Amazon page

 

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Challenged By Ryan Michele ♥ Chapter Reveal

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

Lust, love, and second chances.

 

Growing up in the fast-paced and rough life of a motorcycle club wasn’t easy. Cleaning up the mess his father had made of Vipers Creed meant sacrifice. Cade ‘Spook’ Baker had given up everything to bring the club life back to what it was supposed to be: a family.

 

The choices he made were not what he wanted, but they were necessary for the club as a whole.

Second chances rarely came to Spook, so when his Trixie walked boldly into his clubhouse, the decision was made. Trixie would once again be his, this time for good.

 

Trix Lamasters was raised by a master—a master con. All grown up, she made her life solid by making it about her club, Sirens. But one bad business decision brought her to her knees, forcing her to call on the one person she had sworn she would never trust again.

 

Pasts have a way of not staying there. Things that were buried deep have a way of finding themselves in the light of a new day. Could something that had once crashed and burned for Spook and Trixie find a way out of the wreckage? With the odds against them, can they find a way to overcome the challenges, or will it all blow up in their faces?

 

**Due to content, mature audiences only.**

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

 

Challenged (Vipers Creed MC#1) ©Ryan Michele 2016

Prologue

My head filled with a cloudy, dense fog that I couldn’t shake. Even with my eyes open, a filmy haze covered them, making everything blurry. Voices were muffled, as if I were under water, sinking. I thought I recognized one, but couldn’t tell for sure.

Too hard to think.

I attempted to pull my arms up, but they were immediately halted by something. The hard, cold, heavy attachments clinked like metal. Even straining to move them, my muscles were so weak, so lethargic I couldn’t. I tried my legs, and the same thing happened.

A hard surface pressed against my back as the cool air of the room cascaded over my skin, my nipples, my stomach… Oh God, was I naked?

I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as deep panic set in. Unfortunately, nothing came out except air. Even that took more effort than I had in me.

Placing the pieces of the puzzle together, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything.

Heat at my side had me turning in that direction, only to see a fuzzy, black figure. I squinted then blinked, trying to get the focus to come back, but nothing. Not a damn thing.

“Hello, darlin’. Welcome to hell.”

 

Chapter One

Trix

A lump gathered in my throat settling like a rock, hard and brutal, sucking the wind out of me. My hand slightly twitched as I dialed the number I never in a million years thought I would call. I switched the phone to my other hand in an effort to shake out the trembling, because nervousness wasn’t an option. Trix Lamasters would not turn into some twit who couldn’t think straight over one phone call. Being a shrewd businesswoman, I’d learned from the best not to let shit get to me, how to compartmentalize things and deal.

I swallowed hard, moving the lump from my throat to settle into my gut like a boulder. As I focused, my breathing evened out. The thick steel in my spine could handle anything life threw at me, including this call. Including the man who would be on the other end of the line.

The green button stared back at me, my finger hovering over it. Then I pressed it and pulled the phone to my ear just as it started ringing.

One ring … two … three …

“What?” was barked through the phone line with a male’s voice tainted by harsh impatience.

“Can I talk to Cade? Shit.” I stopped myself. He wasn’t Cade anymore. I needed to remember that a lot had changed. “I mean, Spook. Is Spook around?”

Silence.

“Hello?” I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the bright screen, making sure the call hadn’t dropped. Nope, the little numbers in the corner were still counting away. I pressed it back to my ear, waiting a few beats.

“Who wants to fucking know?” His tone turned gruffer, almost as if he were a protective watch dog of Cade’s, and nothing or no one got past him.

Watch dog or not, I wasn’t about to get eaten.

“This is Trix Lamasters. I need to speak to him.”

More silence, not even a breath or noise in the background.

“Hello?”

His voice came over the line right as I intended to speak again. “Stop fucking saying hello. I’m here.”

Hell, maybe someone pissed in his Wheaties this morning, his attitude having nothing to do with me. Or maybe it was just him.

I slapped my hand to my forehead as the word dumbass rang in my mind.

“Sorry, I thought the call dropped.” Now I apologized to the rude man? Get a grip, Trix.

“What do you need with Spook?” The guard dog didn’t give me an inch. Nevertheless, he didn’t need to know my business.

I needed a diversion.

“Can you just get a message to him to call me?”

“Babe, either tell me what you need, or nothing fuckin’ gets to him.” His tone turned flat and resolute.

“Fuck,” I muttered then heard him chuckle. The damn man needed a bone before he played. Asshole. “An employee of mine has been seen at your clubhouse. I need to talk to her.”

“Call her,” he quipped.

“She doesn’t have a phone,” I retorted, feeling the fire burn in my veins.

“Not my problem,” the man sneered. From his attitude, I knew he would have no problem hanging up on me right now, never telling Cade I needed to talk to him. Good thing I dealt with assholes on a regular basis.

“Look, the bitch owes me money.” Anger raced through my body. I let it be heard through each clipped word.

He let out a deep laugh that was almost intriguing if he weren’t a jerk. “You may as well kiss that cash good-bye.”

My pride had other ideas.

“Fuck no. I want what’s owed to me.” I sighed, needing a different tactic. “Look, can you just give Spook my name?” He would either call or he wouldn’t, but maybe that would get the dog to want to nose around. Maybe curiosity would get him to spread my name at least.

“This is gonna be fun. Hang on.” The man must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand, because everything he said was muffled except for him calling Spook’s name. That, I could hear clearly. My adrenaline spiked at the thought of Cade coming on the line.

“Yeah?” a voice I recognized from my dreams said into the phone. The deep, raspy tenor had grown over time and slithered down my spine all the way to my knees, giving them a slight tremble. It took only one word to make my stomach flip.

Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, but I wasn’t that girl anymore. He would not have power over me. I wouldn’t allow it.

I paced my small living room, needing the movement to get my knees back in line.

“Cade? It’s Trix Lamasters.”

“First, the name’s Spook. Second, who?”

That one kind of stung. All right, more than stung. It tore another hole in my already battered heart was more like it. The asshole didn’t even remember me, but what did I expect, being one in a sea of many? There was absolutely no reason I would have stood out to him.

“We went to school together,” I tried.

Silence.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, hoping divine intervention would give me the gift of patience or a gun. Neither came.

“Whatever. I get you don’t remember me, but you have one of my employees there. I need to talk to her. She owes me money, and I need it back.”

“Trixie Lamasters.” I could hear the devilish grin as his words snaked over the phone. Not going to lie, my pussy quivered.

No one called me Trixie anymore, because once upon a time, he did and I had loved it. After he abruptly left my life, taking the one thing I could never get back, I refused to let anyone call me by that name. Never again would I allow the hollow feeling that name represented to seep through me. Now, hearing him after fifteen years, the vault of memories opened wide, something I did not want to happen. I didn’t want to feel, yet each recollection of the past bombarded my mind.

“Long time.”

I paused mid-step as a flash of younger Cade hit me. Shaking my head clear, I continued to pace through my living room.

“Yeah, very long. Anyway, you have a woman there by the name of Nanette King. Can you hand her over to me?”

I wouldn’t let the smoothness of his voice draw me in like it had all those years ago, reducing me to a pile of teenaged mush. Strictly business, I told myself, because business I could handle.

“How do you know she’s here?”

“I had her followed, and it led to you.”

I guessed he didn’t like the fact that I had found her that way, judging from the muttered curses that followed. Each word made me smile. I had a payroll of people who worked for me now, and some little twit-fart would not run off with my money. That wasn’t how I operated my business.

Nanette had fallen off radar. Cade’s club happened to be the last place she was seen; therefore, I had to call him. I may as well have strapped zip-ties around my wrists, locking them in place.

“First, if she’s at the club, there’s a reason. Second, bitches here don’t go by their real names, so I don’t know if she’s around, because I don’t know a Nanette. Third, you come to the clubhouse, and we’ll talk.”

Business was business, but my heart spiked at the thought of seeing him again.

Cade’s club, Vipers Creed MC, had been in Dyersburg for years. Even before I came into this world, their presence had been well known. This town had tales, but these days, the Vipers were mostly known for Creed’s Automotive where they made custom bikes and cars in their own little world located on the outskirts of town.

I’d hoped to avoid a meeting since I couldn’t see any point to it. I wasn’t in the mood for a high school reunion. The past needed to stay there, locked up tight.

“I’ll describe her to you. Tell me if she’s there, and I’ll send someone over to get her,” I declared, trying to veer him from this path.

Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.

He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.

“Babe, you don’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.

This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.

“That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.

I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.

I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.

***

During the entire drive, I berated myself for giving the money to Nanette in the first place. One stupid decision started this path, one I could have avoided if I’d stuck to my rules.

Nanette’s eyes were anxiously cast to the floor of my office as she rung her hands together absently.

When she didn’t talk, I prompted, “Speak.” It sounded like a command I would give a dog, but at times like these, when people wouldn’t get on with their shit, it was deserved. I had shit to do, and she obviously needed something.

“I need to borrow five thousand dollars,” she said in a surge.

I leaned back in the leather chair behind my desk, my brow raised as her eyes looked everywhere but at mine. Nervous? No, she was damn near petrified.

I waited out the quiet for her eyes to meet mine, the fear coming across loud and clear.

When they did, I asked, “For what?”

I wanted to hear her out, because if she had problems, I needed to know whether those problems would blow back onto Sirens. It was always about the business.

“The bank’s gonna foreclose on my house if I don’t come up with the money by Friday.” Her eyes filled with moisture.

While I wasn’t a cruel and heartless bitch, this wasn’t my problem. She was a grown adult and needed to handle her own problems, including money to pay her bills.

“No,” I answered firmly. “You can go now.”

Nanette’s face turned to dismay as my answer rolled around in that head of hers. Her skin paled, her nose twitched, and she swallowed hard, as if not to puke. She began to say words; only, they came out as sounds of mumbled breath as she lost her composure.

I held up my hand in an effort to stop her choking rambles. “Stop trying to talk. Listen. I’m not a bank; I’m not an ATM machine; I do not run cash advances. You need money, you work for it. That’s how the world goes round.”

“Please,” she started in a rush. “I’m taking care of my dad. He’s sick, and if I lose the house, I’ll have nowhere to make sure he’s okay.”

“Not my problem.” This was one of the reasons I closed myself off from the people around me, only letting a small few into my tight-knit circle. I had heard so many sob stories over the past five years running Sirens that not much penetrated the thick wall around me.

“Trix, I’ll pay you back every penny with interest. Please. You’re my last hope. My dad has lung cancer, and it’s progressing quickly. All my money goes to his treatments, and because of that, I got behind on the mortgage. I just need an advance on my checks. I’ll work extra shifts, and come in whenever you want.” Her words strung together like a melody, and fuck me, I felt her panic.

She continued, “He has no insurance, so I’m paying for everything out-of-pocket. It’s bleeding me dry. I don’t know what else to do.” Tears rolled down her face. Judging from her body language, which I had learned from the best how to hone in on, the bitch was telling the truth.

Fucking hell. I didn’t want to feel it. I tried to push it back. The businesswoman inside of me screamed, ‘No fucking way!’ while the woman inside of me was proud of how Nanette took care of her father. Was I really going to do this? Shit.

“Twenty-five percent interest to be paid in full six months from now.”

Nanette’s eyes lit up in shock. “Really?”

“That’s six thousand two hundred fifty dollars in my hand six months from this date. A fucking day late, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I would, too, finding every way possible.

“Okay,” she said, swiping away the remnants of her tears, a flash of relief snaking into her eyes.

I folded my hands, placing them in front of me. “I’m not fucking around, Nanette. These are the terms.” I pulled out the gun from the holster attached under my desk, setting it on the hard wood. Her eyes widened. “Every last penny in six months,” I reminded her. “You sure you wanna do that?” It was the only out she would get if she agreed.

She nodded her head then spoke, “I understand. Six months, sixty-two fifty in your hand.”

I put the gun back in its holster, my warning as clear as I could make it.

“Out. I’ll have the money for you by the end of your shift.”

My damn pride would not let this go. The bitch owed me a lot of money. I wanted it back. I wanted her. If that meant I had to go into unfamiliar territory with a guy I did not like, so be it.

***

“Oh, my God, he’s coming this way,” my friend Beth practically screeched.

I hit her arm, trying to get her to stop embarrassing the hell out of me, as the hottest guy in school walked our way. Most considered him on the bad boy list, and damn if that didn’t send my heart a flutter.

His eyes locked on mine. I couldn’t stop staring; he had some sort of trance over me. Those blue eyes held mischief and intrigue.

“Hey. How you doin’?” His voice was deeper than most of the other boys in school, making him seem older and more mature.

“Fine,” I responded, my nervousness coming through on that one word.

“Wanna go out?” he asked as my heart squeezed. The hottest guy in school had just asked me to go out with him. Holy fucking shit.

“Sure,” I replied as calmly as I could.

“Cool. Meet me at six at Regan’s.”

Regan’s was a local diner hangout that we all went to regularly.

“Okay.”

He winked then turned, striding off.

Beth’s wide smile mimicked mine as we closed our eyes and did a silent, little, open-mouth scream. I had a date with the Cade Baker.

As I pulled myself out of my thoughts, my breath hitched at the monstrosity in front of me: huge cinderblocks stacked one on top of the other, higher than my two-story house. The ends looked like princess parapets with sharp points in the roof. Windows all around them provided a view of every direction. At closer look, I noticed men standing inside them, their eyes trained on me. I felt like I was going into a war zone instead of a motorcycle club.

I rolled up, stopping the SUV at the closed gate to the entrance.

Unease whispered around me due to the heavy security. Who in the hell were they protecting in there, the fucking president?

A large man built like a stubby Mac truck with a goatee and light brown hair came up to my window, his eyes covered by black glasses. I hit the automatic button to lower my window, waiting for it to clear all the way down.

“What can I do for ya?” he asked, bending into the window with a smirk on his face. He made no qualms about looking down the front of my shirt at my ample cleavage. I hadn’t worn the shirt for that purpose, but I had very few shirts that didn’t show off the girls.

I snapped my fingers three times in quick succession, and his eyes met mine. “My eyes are up here.”

“But down there is just as fucking good.” He licked his lips as lust blazed off him.

Men, they were all the same Booze, bitches, and boobs.

“I’m here to see Cade.” Dammit, I needed to stop that. Cade wasn’t his damn name any more, but separating the two came as a challenge. “I mean Spook. He’s expecting me.”

“Fuck, boss man always gets the prime pussy.” He groaned in a way that suggested this type of occurrence was routine, an idea which I pushed out of my head as soon as it entered.

I arched my brow. “No one gets my pussy but me,” I combated, tilting my head just a touch.

I told things like they were and didn’t back down from a fight or a challenge. That being said, I had also learned how to cut my losses and get the hell out of a bad situation. Burly man here would not intimidate me.

“Doubt that one.” He nodded to one of the guys in the tall tower, and the steel gate slowly started to open with a loud creak in front of me. “Have a good time, and when you’re done, come find me.”

“No, thanks,” I murmured, driving away from him with no intention of searching him out ever.

The wide area felt vast, almost like a whole city block. I had lived in Tennessee all my life, so of course, I’d known of the Vipers Creed. Everyone did. However, to actually see their compound, to be in their space, unnerved me. There was an aura of power that I felt down to my bones, causing me to fight back a shiver.

Vipers Creed MC had bought an old army compound many years ago. The structure on the outside reminded me of the classic war movies I passed by on television. Inside the gates, though, looked nothing like the starkness of the outside.

Several buildings outlined the space. An enormous structure looked like it had two, maybe three, levels to it. I assumed that was the main building, because several smaller concrete structures surrounded a large courtyard with bright green grass and a fire pit off to the side. Some actually looked as if they were homes with plants and flowers around them. It seemed homey, comfortable in a way, like a family lived here and took care of it.

Off to the far left sat Creed’s Automotive, with several hot rods and a few bikes lining its parking lot.

A spot near the larger building came into view. I parked my car, turned off the ignition, and then sat back in my seat, giving myself a moment. I did this before every business meeting just to make sure I got my head on straight. Too bad this meeting had to be with Cade. If rumors over the years served me right, he was the president of Vipers Creed. The two guys I had talked to confirmed it with the boss man bullshit.

People changed a lot over time, going different paths, some good and some not so good. I wasn’t a judge, jury, or executioner in this scenario, but I had to wonder, with all the security, exactly how much Cade changed from the boy I’d known all those years ago. Did his life happen to be so dangerous that he had to be behind cement walls with guys guarding them? And if it were that dangerous, why would he choose this life?

I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel. It didn’t matter. I was here for one reason and one reason only. I should have found comfort in the knowledge that the meet was business, but it didn’t come.

With a heavy sigh, I opened the SUV door then hopped down to the blacktop. I pulled my shirt down, readjusting myself and making sure the girls were covered. I’d gone simple, wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a blue V-neck top, and flats. I loaded myself up with silver on my wrists and a couple of chains around my neck. I didn’t do much with my hair besides run the brush through it. I liked having my chestnut tresses fall in thick waves down my back.

“Hey, mouse,” a man with a bald head and a tailored beard said from my left. Black sunglasses covered his eyes, and his lips were lifted into a sexy smirk. He wore a leather vest, which had a Secretary patch on it, over a dark blue T-shirt. He was attractive in his own unique way.

Mouse was a strange greeting, but I went with it.

“Hi, I’m here to see Ca—Spook,” I told him, lifting my hand to block the penetrating sun that my sunglasses had no chance of hindering.

“I bet you are.” He chuckled, running his hand over his beard as he appraised me.

I should have felt heat from his intense stare, but I didn’t. Okay, maybe a flicker if I was being honest with myself. I knew how I looked, considering I saw myself in the mirror every morning.

My body drove some guys crazy because I had an abundance of tits and ass. I understood that. It was even flattering that men found me attractive. At the moment, though, I didn’t his need his appraisal or anyone else’s. I just wanted to get this shit over with. In and out. Wipe my hands clean of Cade again.

“Can you tell me where he is?”

The bald man walked closer, holding out his arm with a crooked elbow like an usher would do at a wedding. I smiled. It was cute, especially from a burly man like him. I placed my hand in the bend of his firm arm.

“Let me show you to him,” he said.

We began to walk, and all the while, the heads of the guys sitting in the courtyard area turned and whistles erupted. I ignored the noise, falling into step with the man.

“Thanks,” I told him with a pat on the arm.

“Anything for the boss man.”

While I didn’t know Cade’s life, I had some assumptions. I watched the television shows about men in motorcycle clubs and all the havoc they raised. I didn’t know if they were actually true, but at least I wasn’t going in completely blind. I did know they had a hierarchy of power, and the men had to ride Harley’s. Other than that, I only knew what the TV shows told me.

Who am I kidding? I was pretty much clueless.

The man chuckled deeply. “So, what’s a hot piece like you coming here for?”

When he asked the question, I looked up at him. Lines sprinkled around his eyes and lips like he’d ridden his bike in the sun for hours. His face matched the tanned color of his head. It wasn’t a look, though; it was him.

A small grin played on his lips, catching my attention. I didn’t know if he already knew the answer to his question and was playing me or if he actually was being inquisitive. Once again, I rolled with it.

“I have word one of my girls is here with you. She owes me money, and I want it.”

He opened a solid, steel door, and we walked into darkness. I ripped my sunglasses from my face as the low hum of the newly turned on lights illuminated the room. The scents of stale booze, cigarettes, and sex permeated the air like a thick haze. I knew those three smells by heart because I smelled them every day. They were my livelihood, the reason I had stepped foot in Cade’s world.

“This way,” he said, pulling my arm.

I followed him into a wide open space. Tables were scattered throughout with chairs at each of them. A long bar sat on the other side of the room with loads of liquor, looking like it could give me a run for my money in comparison to the one I had at Sirens.

I felt kind of strange holding this guy’s arm without knowing his name, so I asked.

He lifted his shades to the top of his head and stared down at me with eyes the color of the ocean. They weren’t blue, and they weren’t green. They were both, and they were breathtaking. I got sucked into them momentarily.

“Stiff.”

“Stiff?” I questioned as he walked me through the space and down a long hallway. What in the hell kind of name was Stiff?

Pictures hung on the wooden planked walls, but at the pace we were going, I had no time to look at them without stumbling over my own feet.

He chuckled. “Yeah, mouse. You stick around, and I’m sure you’ll find out why.” He winked then stopped us in front of a wooden door. With his fist, he banged loudly three times, shaking the pictures on the wall next to the door.

“What?” barked a voice from the opposite side. Even with the wood between us, with that one word, I felt my body instantly awaken, wanting to pull toward the sound.

“Someone here to see ya,” Stiff yelled back.

“Nice intercom you have here,” I murmured.

Stiff chuckled.

Little did I know that opening that door would change my life forever.

 

Ardent Prose About The Author

 

Ryan Michele has a huge obsession with reading, which only came to life after her best friend said she had to read Twilight. After reading that series, her entire world changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was she sucked into new worlds and all of the wonderful words authors put down on paper, she felt the urge to begin to write down the characters that played inside of her head. In doing so, Safe was born. Then Wanting You and the Ravage MC series.

 

When she’s not reading or writing, she spends time taking care of her two children and her husband, enjoying the outdoors and laying in the sun.

 

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

 

BEAU has never known a good life, only the torment that lives inside his head every day. The only way to block out the darkness that shrouds him is through the rhythmic beat of his drums. Knowing what happens when he opens up to anyone, Beau buries his pain deep inside, keeping it all to himself.

 

APRIL has lived a life of wealth and privilege, full of love and support. Her only insight into what it’s like to have a rough life is through her work with foster children. When she meets Beau, it starts as a challenge to get through to him but quickly turns into much more than either of them bargained for.

 

TOGETHER, they are mismatched, ill-fated, and COMBUSTIBLE. But when their connection is challenged by the collision of past, present, and future, will they be snared by love…or circumstances?

 

Ardent Prose Excerpt

I perched on the chair next to him. He started tapping on his legs again, and I moved my hands so they were over his. He immediately stopped. “Show me.” His hands were still for a few beats too long, and I figured he wasn’t going to do it. I was about to move when he put the drumsticks in my hands and began moving, tapping a rapid beat I’d never remember.

I turned my head so I could watch his face as he played my hands with his drumsticks. With my face so close to his, I was able to study the tattoos on his neck, the short dark hair on his beard, his nose ring, and his incredible eyes. They were so dark they looked black, but they were the one part of him that showed expression.

His hands stilled as he realized how close I was to his face. Beau slightly turned my way. My hands were still under his, clutching his drumsticks like they were the last lifeline I had. They just might’ve been. My eyes scanned his flawless face. He had the most beautiful skin, and I wanted to touch him again. My eyes flitted to his lips. God, what it would be like to press my lips to his, I could only imagine.

“Did you…keep your drumsticks?” I felt his warm breath against my lips, and I shuddered. Tingles spread from my spine down to my toes and back again, making goose bumps break out on my skin. I wanted nothing more than to grab him and show him exactly why he should want to get to know me better.

I licked my dry lips and nodded my head. “O-of course. I told you I’d save them forever.”

He nodded. His thumbs caressed my hands and I froze, wondering if he knew what he was doing and afraid if I moved he would realize it and stop.

“You’re so handsome.” My legs shook as adrenaline coursed through my body. “There’s nothing better than seeing you doing what you love.”

Beau’s eyes searched mine as if trying to read into what I said. Of course, he didn’t believe me. Why would he? I knew from experience kids who had been abandoned never quite got over the belief that nothing they did was good enough or would bring back the people they loved. He was no different.

But I had to keep my mouth shut because that’s what had gotten me into trouble before with him.

I wanted nothing more than to kiss Beau, to show him with my mouth what I couldn’t say in words. But I was terrified of what his reaction would be, and after the stress I’d been under over Robbie, I didn’t think my fragile psyche could handle one more thing.

One of Beau’s hands moved, and I knew the moment was over. He’d want me to get away from him now. But instead, I felt his hand touch the side of my face like I’d done to him on the rooftop deck.

“You…” Beau cleared his throat. I could physically see how hard this was for him to do. “April.” It came out a strained whisper, like it physically pained him to say my name. I didn’t want him to hurt because of me.

“It’s okay,” I said, putting my hand over his on my face. “You don’t have to talk. Just know I’m here, all right?”

He shook his head, moving his hand and entwining our fingers together. Then he shocked the hell out of me and kissed my palm, his eyes never leaving mine. “You…smell incredible,” he whispered against my skin. “You’re…beautiful. So beautiful.” If I hadn’t been listening to every syllable like they were the last sounds I’d ever hear, I might’ve missed what he said.

But I’d heard every damn one of them.

Beau stood, his fingers still linked with mine. He leaned over and brushed his lips against my cheek, stopping at my ear. “Stay after the show.” He dropped my hand and stepped around me, but I was frozen in place. Desire pulsed through my body like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and the biggest smile broke across my face.

Beau Anderson had kissed my hand. And my cheek. He’d asked me to stay after the show.

I thought my head just might explode right off my body.

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Ardent Prose About The Author

 

LL Collins is the self published author of the bestselling Living Again Series, including Living Again, Reaching Rachel, Guarding Hearts, Finding Forever, and Breaking Free: A Living Again Novella, all available now.

 

LL has been writing since she was old enough to write. Always a story in her head, she finally decided to let the characters out and start writing and try to make her lifelong dreams of becoming an author come true. She has been a teacher for over ten years and lives in Florida with her husband and two sons.

 

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Stripped Raw By Prescott Lane ♥ Release Blitz

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Ardent Prose Synopsis

Kenzie
I’m a yes girl. Get your mind out of the gutter; I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about saying yes to whatever comes my way in life. So when I had the chance to move to Europe after college, I said, yes. When I had the chance to open my own lingerie line, I said, yes. And when my stepsister got diagnosed with cancer and needed me to come home and help her raise her daughter, I said, yes. That’s me, Kenzie — the yes girl! In every area of my life but one —Love. Always the first to leave a relationship. Will I be able to say yes to love — to Kane — to being happy? Or will I simply come undone and be stripped raw?

Kane
Don’t let Kenzie fool you! She’s a master at hiding behind a laugh and a smile. Being an attorney, I prefer the facts. This story isn’t as light and happy as my yes girl would have you believe. No laugh can sugar coat what we are facing: I’ve lost everything. I know what it’s like to be left raw. But sometimes that’s the only way to find love. To strip yourself down, let the other person see all your shit, and hope they love you anyway.

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Prescott Lane is the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken, and her new release, Quiet Angel. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life. Connect with Prescott Lane at http://www.pinterest.com/PrescottLane1/ and facebook.com/PrescottLane1 and http://www.twitter.com/prescottlane1 and http://instagram.com/prescottlane1 or at http://www.authorprescottlane.com

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Ardent 4