Blog Tour: A Bridge Between Us by K.K. Allen

“A breathtaking romantic experience that will have you on the edge of your seat. Allen delivers a poignant new adult must-read.”
– Kandi Steiner, Bestselling Author

A Bridge Between Us, an all-new standalone small-town romance from USA Today bestselling author K.K. Allen is available now!

I had always known he wasn’t mine to keep, but that didn’t change the way I loved him—quietly, gently, and from afar.

As the seasons changed, the corn stalks grew strong, and the grapevines flourished with hope. But none of it mattered, not when the soil at our feet bound us in a century-old rivalry. We’d never even had a chance.

They said life flashed before your eyes on the way to death, but on that night, after my final scream burst from my throat and my world started to fade to black, I only thought of him. Of his sweet chocolate eyes, his desperately cautious stare, and his silence that carried more weight than gold.

I should have died that night. Instead, I crossed the moonlit bridge and never returned.
I let rivalry win. If only that had been enough to keep us all safe. If only we didn’t have a bridge between us.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
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Read my FIVE STAR REVIEW here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3597543385?book_show_action=false&from_review_page=1

Excerpt:

She starts to move past me toward the record player when something strong and instinctual—something that feels like fate—gives me a hard punch in the chest. I grab her hand and pull her back to me. Surprised, she stumbles a little, and her palms break her fall on my chest. When she recovers, she meets my gaze, and I don’t try to interpret it. Instead, I move her arms around my neck, wrap mine around her waist, and start to move.

Her eyes narrow, but they have a glimmer in them. “Oh, so now you want to dance.” 

I cringe a little. “I don’t think you can call this dancing. And to be fair, I don’t think you can call what you were doing dancing either.”

Not even her harsh glare can hide the amusement she finds at my joke. She purses her lips to hold back her laugh then swats at my chest before moving her hand back around my neck. “At least I was having fun.”

“Oh, I was having fun watching you. Besides, you didn’t seem to have a problem with my moves at prom.”

Her cheeks redden, and when my gaze slips down to her neck, I find that part of her skin is changing color too. She’s flushed all over, and I can’t help but get excited that I’m doing that to her.

“Yeah, well, you also bribed me with a dozen pink roses, a tent, and a pretty necklace, so we probably shouldn’t compare experiences.”

At the mention of her necklace, my gaze locks on her throat, even though I already know it isn’t there. When she picked me up from the jail, she wasn’t wearing it then either. The disappointment weighed heavily, and as much as I want to ask her where it is, I choose not to go there. I had no right to question it back then, and I still don’t. “Just give me a few minutes, and I can rectify all that.”

She smiles gently back at me, and the mood shifts from playful to serious. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it between my ears. I cup her neck while slowly moving a finger across her cheek, and I glance at her lips before locking on her eyes. “I would do anything for you, Camila. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”

She blinks, as if she can’t believe me. I drop my forehead to hers, and when her eyelids flutter closed as a shaky breath rushes past her lips, I know she feels the same.

“How does this feel so normal?” Her words are just a whisper. “I close my eyes, and it’s like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand? Our roots are deep, just like your vines, which adapt to every season. No matter the harsh weather, there’s always new growth.”

“Are you comparing our relationship to the life of a grape?”

The teasing in her voice makes me chuckle. “No. I’m comparing us to a whole damn vineyard. We’re the root.” I lean in, brush her lips with mine, and whisper, “You and me, Wild One.”

A shiver racks her entire body, and I tighten my hold around her, as if it could help. The way she’s engulfed in my arms brings me the most comfort I’ve felt in years. Camila’s right. This feels so normal and natural, like we were always meant to fit.

I brush my lips against hers again, almost expecting her to pull away and tell me it’s too soon or too late. Either one of those responses would be understandable. But when her fingernails dig into my back, I don’t ignore the message. I mold my mouth to hers and kiss her hard.

Her firm lips respond to mine immediately, and she steals every bit of my air as she breathes me in. I explore the taste and feel of her like it’s the very first time. In a way, that’s exactly what this is. It’s been ten years since our lips last touched, and though I’ve dreamed about it, nothing could have prepared me for the real feeling of our mouths moving as one, our breaths tangling with heat and desire, or our hands wandering as our mouths keep a slow and steady pace. The kiss is so consuming and powerful that I feel an awakening within me. And when she parts my mouth with hers and sweeps her tongue over mine, a growl rumbles through me.

Meet K.K. Allen
K.K. Allen is a USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author and interdisciplinary arts and sciences graduate from the University of Washington who writes heartfelt contemporary romance stories that are as real as they are inspiring. K.K. is a Hawaiian girl who was raised in Seattle, and currently resides in central Florida. She works full time as a digital producer for a leading online educational institution and is the mother to a ridiculously handsome little dude who owns her heart.

K.K.’s publishing journey began in June 2014 with the YA Contemporary Fantasy trilogy, The Summer Solstice. In 2016, K.K. published her first Contemporary Romance, Up in the Treehouse, which went on to win the Romantic Times 2016 Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best New Adult Book of the Year. With K.K.’s love for inspirational and coming-of-age stories involving heartfelt narratives and honest emotions, you can be assured to always be surprised by what K.K. releases next.

Connect with K.K. Allen
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IcBh8V
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkkallen/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KKAllen_Author
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kkallen_author/
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Website: http://www.kk-allen.com/
Stay up to date with K.K. by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2J4ixcq

Book Review: Little Lies by H. Hunting

“H. Hunting pens a heartbreaking tale that leaves readers absolutely breathless from beginning to end. One of her best books yet!”
– Stacey Lynn, author

Little Lies, an all-new, angsty and emotional new adult romance from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting writing as H. Hunting is out now!

I don’t want you.
You mean nothing to me.
I never loved you.
I turned my words into swords.
And I cut her down.
Shoved the blade in and watched her fall.
I said I’d never hurt her, and I did.
Years later, I’m faced with all the little lies, the untruths, the false realities, the damage I inflicted, when all I wanted was to indulge my obsession.
Lavender Waters is the princess in the tower. Even her name is the thing fairy tales are made of.
I used to be the one who saved her.
Over and over again.
But I don’t want to save her anymore.
I just want to pretend the lies are still the truth.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
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Add LITTLE LIES to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2IUtW0y

Read my FIVE STAR REVIEW here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3518508065?book_show_action=false&from_review_page=1

Excerpt

The front door swings open, and the never-ending nightmare that is this day smacks me in the face like a long-expired sausage. Kodiak stands in the doorway wearing only a pair of swim shorts, wet hair sticking out all over the place, water dripping on the damn floor. But God, is he ever glorious. Muscle layered over muscle, thick biceps flexing as he holds the doorjamb, a mischievous grin popping the dimple in his left cheek.
My heart seizes and gallops. I miss this version of him: the one that smiles and doesn’t hate me.
He ruins everything a moment later by bellowing, “Who’s fucking in the driveway?”
His gaze moves to Dylan, who looks as horrified as I feel, but as it shifts to me, his smile drops and my stomach tightens.
“You should really go,” I tell Dylan.
“I’ll see you around.” He disappears into his car and barely has the door closed before he’s backing out of the driveway and screeching down the street.
I adjust my backpack on my shoulder and head for the house, steeling my spine and my nerves because Kodiak is still standing in the middle of the doorway, his face a mask of indifference. I try to brush by him, but he stays where he is, making it impossible.
I sigh, exhausted beyond belief. I just want to go upstairs and have a good, cathartic cry. I try to mirror his apathy. “Can you move so I can get into my house?”
His brow furrows as his eyes move over my face. He lifts his hand, like maybe he’s thinking about touching me. There’s no way I can handle that. I jerk back and swat his hand away. “What are you doing?”
“Your lip is bleeding.”
“Don’t act like you actually give a shit, Kodiak.”
“Tell me what happened.” His voice is low and soft, and for whatever reason, that makes me even angrier, so I lash out, wanting to wound him the way he keeps wounding me.
“You, Kodiak. You happened, and you ruined my goddamn life. Now get the hell out of my way.” I elbow past him, almost tripping over several sets of running shoes.
I head straight for my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor and close my eyes, taking deep breaths.
I imagined the concern in his voice.
I imagined the pain that sat heavy behind his eyes.
We see what we want to, not the truth, especially when it hurts.

About Helena Hunting

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena
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Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/
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H. Hunting

Newsletter: https://bit.ly/3huH3ly

Now Live: Take Me to Bed Anthology

Title: Take Me to Bed: Bedtime Quickies Collection
Genre: Multi-Genre Collection
Release Date: February 25, 2020


All proceeds will be donated to the International Network of Hearts, a non-profit organization that brings communities and governments together to help rescue women and children from human trafficking and sexual violence.
blog_review
What’s not to love about hot and quick steamy romance stories?!?! I loved this anthology for all of these reasons. Each story is unique, a few contained some favorite characters of mine, and I was able to discover some new authors that I enjoy! If you are looking for sexy short stories – here’s your book!!!

 

Got time for a Quickie?
 
Grab your ereader and snuggle up with your favorite authors as they come together to bring you a collection like no other.
 
From steamy to sweet, contemporary to paranormal, and everything in between, you won’t want to miss hooking up with these exclusive new romance stories.
 
All proceeds will be donated to the International Network of Hearts, a non-profit organization brings communities and governments together to help rescue women and children from human trafficking and sexual violence.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
A.C. Williams
A.M. Wilson
AJ Alexander
Alex Grayson
Ali Dean
Amali Rose
Anna Bishop Barker
Anna Brooks
Aurora Rose Reynolds
Brittany Crowley
Cary Hart
Cassandra Robbins
Claire C. Riley
Danielle Norman
DM Earl
Erica Marselas
Esther E. Schmidt
Flora Burgos
Freya Barker
Gianna Gabriela
Heidi McLaughlin
HL Nighbor
JD Hollyfield
Jessica Marin
K.L. Clare
Kally Ash
KL Donn
Lauren Dawes
Lia Fairchild
Meagan Brandy
Melissa Toppen
Michelle Dare
Monica DeSimone
S.L. Sterling
S.R. Grey
Shari J. Ryan
Sienna Snow
Yolanda Olson
HOSTED BY:

 

Blog Tour: The Life You Stole by Jewel E. Ann

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“Hold on with both hands because you’re about to experience the ride of a lifetime. All the stars for this masterpiece.”

-Marni Mann, USA Today Bestselling Author

The Life You Stole, the compelling and stunning conclusion to the binge worthy Life Duet from Jewel E. Ann, is available now!

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Sex.

Lies.

Revenge.

On the heels of a devastating loss, Evelyn fights to put her life back together.

Only … part of her husband belongs to another woman, and the devil owns her soul.

“If you tell her the lie, I will tell her the truth.”

When her best friend goes to great lengths to protect Evelyn from destruction and devastation, mistakes are made, lines are crossed, and all trust is shattered.

“We weren’t unbreakable.

I just needed to believe we weren’t unrepairable.”

 

*** READ MY FIVE STAR REVIEW HERE ***

LYS - AN

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/31w0kf7

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TheLifeyouStole

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Start this MUST READ duet with The Life That Mattered:

Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Excerpt

I jumped, shutting my computer, and glanced up at Graham paused at the threshold to my room, loosening his red tie. He always looked handsome in a suit and that red tie I gave him for his birthday. I didn’t expect to see him. My assistant said he was at the Governor’s Mansion. I rarely stayed there, but he used it as an occasional “getaway.” Probably from me. So when she told me he was there, I made the assumption (actually hoped) he’d decided to stay the night and get some work done.

“It’s not even seven.” I tucked my bare feet beneath me, still wearing my navy skirt suit and silk scarf—my long hair in loose curls down my back and around my shoulders just like Graham liked it.

He took calculated steps toward me, completely untying his tie, letting it drop to the floor before working the buttons to his starchy white shirt. I tried to forget my internet search, not that it mattered because I couldn’t hide anything from my husband. He elicited a warring of emotions from me. An icy tingle slithered along my spine, making every muscle rigid, while the warmth in my heart fed on the way my pulse reacted to his proximity, the way it always had done. That never changed. It was how I knew we weren’t broken.

“Did you miss me?” He smirked, shrugging off his shirt, revealing his defined torso—abs for days beneath a thin smattering of dark hair on his chest.

I was the envy of so many women. Every day I reminded myself of that.

“Nice scarf.” He knelt in front of the chair.

I returned a nervous smile, hoping the man before me was the man I loved. Graham untied the scarf, sliding it from my neck as slowly as he’d slid off his tie just seconds earlier. The scarf floated to the floor. Gentle fingers swept my hair off my shoulders, exposing my neck.

With the same feather’s touch, he traced the bruises. “It’s nothing …” His lips replaced his fingers, kissing my neck. “You’re fine. Right?”

I wanted to believe him. Could denial become truth if we just believed hard enough?

“I’m fine,” I murmured, closing my eyes.

“Want me to show you how much I missed you?” he whispered next to my ear.

Was he asking me for permission? Governor Graham demanded me. Pre-marriage, pre-Governor Graham asked … begged me to surrender to him.

JewelEAnn

About Jewel

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

Connect with Jewel

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2Qzj2iq

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2urUQG0

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2ZZwpLD

BookBub: http://bit.ly/2s4ftr1

Stay up to date with Jewel by joining her mailing list:

http://bit.ly/2FpGXdA

http://www.jeweleann.com

 

Blog Tour: The Life that Mattered by Jewel E. Ann

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“The wildly talented Jewel E. Ann consistency finds a way to level up. Every book she writes leaves me desperate for more! The Life That Mattered is a must-read.” – Ella James, USA Today bestselling author

The Life That Mattered, an all-new emotional and poignant novel from Jewel E. Ann, is available now!

LifeThatMattered_EBook

Sex isn’t love.

Love isn’t sex.

And friendship is neither.

The son of a French Olympic skier and a Malaysian fashion designer, Ronin Alexander has lived the life of a nomad, traveling the world to find his next adventure.

Life takes a dramatic turn when he meets Evelyn, a beautiful scientist who owns a bath shop in Aspen, Colorado. They defy all the rules of relationships, falling hard and quickly in love.

Their world intertwines with Evelyn’s two best friends, the Governor and his soon-to-be wife. The four become close—very close.

When tragedy strikes, things from their pasts are unveiled—unimaginable truths and the grim realization that life will never be the same.

Jewel E. Ann steps into another dimension with this mind-bending thriller, a provocative story that pushes boundaries and tests the true meaning of love.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/370vtIT

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/LifeMattered

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/37132uz

Add The Life That Mattered to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2QUyoN5

*** READ MY FIVE STAR REVIEW HERE ***

 

Pre-order The Life You Stole, releasing February 20th, now!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/31w0kf7

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/TheLifeyouStole

Add THE LIFE YOU STOLE to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/3bgXmQ7

LTM - AN

Excerpt

I wasn’t opposed to the occasional drunken one-night stand, but not with Evelyn. We weren’t drunk, and I wasn’t okay with an arbitrary time in the future that I may or may not see her again.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Evelyn said as she turned off her Jeep.

“God …” I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s messed up. Now I feel a huge urgency to get my own vehicle. I think I’ll go tomorrow to buy one just so you don’t ever have to walk me to my door again.”

She climbed out. “I don’t have to stop at your door. We don’t have to play by the rules of dating. I think we’re past that age. How old are you?”

I found her hand and led her to the front door. “Thirty-five.”

“I’m thirty-four. Have you ever been married?”

We stopped at my door and faced each other. “No. You?”

She shook her head. “The rules don’t apply once you’re past thirty.”

“The rules?”

Evelyn grinned. “The courting shit. The baseball game.”

“The baseball game?” My head canted to the side.

“Yeah. The sexual bases? First base is kissing. Second base is—”

“Yes.” I fished my keys from my pocket. “I’m familiar with the bases.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’re a fan of baseball or not, but I am.”

I unlocked my door and motioned for her to go inside.

She wet her lips and stepped into my condo without an ounce of hesitation. “You’re inviting me in. So you are a fan of baseball.”

Not so much. Skiing, football (soccer), rugby, cycling, tennis … but not baseball. However, something told me Evelyn might make me a baseball fan.

“Are you sure you’re living here?” She glanced around at the sparse furnishings of my two-bedroom condo.

“I never stay in one place long. No need to own much. It’s just that much more to sell or move.”

Books.

I owned books and a place to sit and read them. My parents didn’t believe in letting Julien and I watch television while we were growing up. Julien embraced art. I embraced fiction—mysteries and sci-fi.

“What do you consider not long?” She ran her fingers along the back of my leather recliner before dropping her bag to the floor and slipping off her jacket.

“Three to five years is a nice stay.” I tossed my coat onto one of two barstools at my kitchen counter.

“Okay. So our marriage will be short.” Her teeth trapped her full bottom lip.

“Probably.”

I’d dated enough women to know there existed a sequence of events that took place way before the M word should ever be discussed. I’d never reached the point of discussing the M word. Not even with my longest relationship, which lasted two years.

Two years and we didn’t talk about marriage.

I was out of my realm of experience with Evelyn. We joked about marriage, but who joked about that? Then there was a baseball discussion happening, and I didn’t even like baseball, but I waited with restless anticipation for Evelyn to make her point. Something told me it could be brilliant.

“Kenny was a guy I dated my first year in college. He played baseball.”

I could not have cared less about this Kenny guy, but he brought her back to the baseball talk, so I folded my arms over my chest, leaned against the counter, and gave her my full attention as she walked in slow circles around my furniture. A predator with calculated moves.

Who was I to judge? I walked into her shop that day and basically said we needed to expedite our dating status—laid out my plans to eat dinner with her, close down bars, and sip hot chocolate.

“He was a solid hitter. Always got on base, but he never hit a home run. I honestly think he lacked the confidence to go for it. His coaches told him to just get on base, so that’s what he did because that’s what you do when you’re young like that. You spend a lot of time on the bases.”

Were we still talking about baseball in the literal sense?

“I think once you hit your thirties, no one should judge if you just hit it out of the park your first time up to bat.” Her lips twisted as she stopped in front of me. “The goal is to hit it home. If you can do that, then why the hell not, right?”

I thought I understood the metaphor. But if I was wrong, I could get thrown out of the game.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Evelyn shook her head.

My eyes narrowed, studying her for a few seconds.

“First base is fine.” She shrugged.

Fuck me …

JewelEAnn

About Jewel

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

Connect with Jewel

Facebook: http://bit.ly/2Qzj2iq

Twitter: http://bit.ly/2urUQG0

Instagram: http://bit.ly/2ZZwpLD

BookBub: http://bit.ly/2s4ftr1

Stay up to date with Jewel by joining her mailing list:

http://bit.ly/2FpGXdA

http://www.jeweleann.com

 

Book Review: A Favor for A Favor by Helena Hunting

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“Bishop and Stevie’s relationship is pure, raw, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-the-the-page kindle crack. One of my favorite books by this brilliant author.” – LJ Shen, USA Today bestselling author

A Favor for a Favor, all-new standalone slow burn romance from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting, is available now!

A Favor for a Favor, cover

A new stand-alone romance about trading favors, battling wills, and winning love.

When I joined Seattle’s NHL expansion team, I thought it was the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain’s apartment. Did I mention that he’s married to a woman who definitely was not her?

Imagine my surprise when I end up with an injury that has me out of the game for weeks, and she’s the one to offer to help me. I should probably add that she’s not the captain’s mistress. She’s his sexy, pastel-haired younger sister.

So we come up with an arrangement: she rehabs me so that I can get back on the ice sooner, and she can add a professional athlete that isn’t her brother to her client list. Seems simple enough. As long as I can keep my hands to myself and my hormones in check.

AFFAF - AN

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/31LPGjq

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/AFFAF

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2msA1pY

Amazon Audible: https://amzn.to/2Gh4xtv

Audio: https://amzn.to/2kYpUZr

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2m17XK2

*** READ MY FIVE STAR REVIEW HERE ***

 

AFFAF - Teaser 1 AN

Excerpt

She makes me lift my arm and drapes it over her shoulder. She’s incredibly small compared to me. She tucks one arm under my knee and gently grips the back of my calf with the other. “On the count of three,” she orders. I tense up when she hits three. She gets my leg about six inches off the floor, which is when I scream bloody murder again and grab on to her with both hands.

“Okay. That’s not going to work. The angle is too awkward.” She taps her lip and holds her finger up. “I have an idea.”

She ducks out from under my arm and hooks her fingers in the waistband of her yoga pants.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Calm down. Some bathing suits have less coverage than my underwear. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

She kicks off her yoga pants, leaving her in a T-shirt and panties. They’re plain cotton boy shorts, which should be a good thing, but apparently my body doesn’t care that it’s not a satin or lace thong. All it cares about is the proximity of almost-naked pussy.

Rook’s sister is standing in my bathroom in her underwear. If I had a sister who looked like Stevie and I knew that she was standing in one of my teammate’s bathrooms half-naked, I would probably kick the shit out of the guy. Thankfully, I have a brother.

I try to keep my eyes averted, sort of, but I catch her reflection in the vanity mirror.

She has fantastic legs. Athletic. Strong. And her ass. Goddamn. She definitely does a lot of squats, based on how round and firm it looks. The ache in my groin turns into that stabbing pain again because I’m getting hard. I think about my grandmother in a bathing suit to counteract the effect of Stevie being partly undressed.

She steps into the tub, and I force myself to keep my eyes down, bringing up the image of that hot chick in the tub who turns into a rotting old lady in The Shining. That helps a bit. At least until Stevie moves into my personal space and starts touching me again. I mutter a string of profanity, especially when I feel her boob pressed against my arm for a few seconds. I have no choice but to latch on to her shoulder as we lift my leg over the edge of the tub. I’m sweating, I’m angry, and I hate my dick.

“I need you to stop touching me!” It’s stupid because I’m still holding on to her, not the other way around.

“Why are you yelling at me?” she shouts back.

“Because you’re half-undressed in my tub, and I’m a guy, and apparently my dick is a fucking sadist. It honestly feels like my balls are on fire right now. A semi has never] been this painful.”

“Well, close your damn eyes and think about dead things.”

“It doesn’t matter if I close them. The image of you in panties is burned into the back of my lids, probably for the rest of my fucking life. It’s all I can see.”

“You’d think you’d never seen a set of bare legs before.” She helps me lower myself into the tub and steps out.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a pair up close,” I grumble.

“Such a surprise, with your warm, fuzzy personality.”

About Helena Hunting

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

 

Connect with Helena

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New Release: Regretting You by Colleen Hoover

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From #1 New York Times bestselling author of It Ends with Us comes a poignant novel about family, first love, grief, and betrayal that will touch the hearts of both mothers and daughters.

Regretting You, an all-new beautiful and touching novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover, is available now!

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Morgan Grant and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Clara, would like nothing more than to be nothing alike.

Morgan is determined to prevent her daughter from making the same mistakes she did. By getting pregnant and married way too young, Morgan put her own dreams on hold. Clara doesn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. Her predictable mother doesn’t have a spontaneous bone in her body.

With warring personalities and conflicting goals, Morgan and Clara find it increasingly difficult to coexist. The only person who can bring peace to the household is Chris—Morgan’s husband, Clara’s father, and the family anchor. But that peace is shattered when Chris is involved in a tragic and questionable accident. The heartbreaking and long-lasting consequences will reach far beyond just Morgan and Clara.

While struggling to rebuild everything that crashed around them, Morgan finds comfort in the last person she expects to, and Clara turns to the one boy she’s been forbidden to see. With each passing day, new secrets, resentment, and misunderstandings make mother and daughter fall further apart. So far apart, it might be impossible for them to ever fall back together.

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Excerpt

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“Of all time?” he asks.

“Pick one from the past ten years.”

“I can’t,” he says. “There are so many great ones, and I love them all for different reasons. I love the technical aspect of Birdman. I love the performances in Call Me by Your Name. Fantastic Mr. Fox is my favorite cartoon because Wes Anderson is a goddamn genius.” He glances at me. “What about you?”

“I don’t think Fantastic Mr. Fox counts. It seems older than ten years.” I lean my head back and stare up at the ceiling. It’s a tough question. “I’m like you. I don’t know that I have a favorite movie. I tend to judge more on the talent than the story line. I think Emma Stone is probably my favorite actress. And Adam Driver is the best actor of our time, but I don’t think he’s landed the role of his lifetime yet. He was great in BlacKkKlansman, but I’m not crazy about some of the other movies he’s been in.”

“But did you see the Kylo Ren skit?”

“Yes!” I say, sitting up. “On SNL? Oh my God, it was so funny.” I’m smiling, but I hate that I’m smiling. It feels weird to smile when I’m so full of sadness, but this is how Miller makes me feel every time I’m around him. He’s the only thing that seems to be able to take my mind off everything, yet he’s the one person I can’t really hang out with.

Thanks for that, Shelby.

It sucks. I don’t like thinking about it, even though we’re together right now. But tomorrow at school, things will go back to how they always are. Miller will

keep his distance. He’ll respect his relationship with Shelby, which will only serve to make me respect him even more.

And I’ll just continue to be in a depressing funk.

“I should go,” I say.

Miller hesitates before moving. “Yeah, I think my break was over ten minutes ago.” We both stand up, but I can’t get out of the aisle because he’s blocking my way, facing me, not making an effort to walk away. He’s just staring down at me as if he wants to say something else. Or do something else.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” he says. At first, I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but then it hits me. I press my lips together and nod, but I don’t say anything because it’s the last thing I want to talk or think about.

“I should have said that the other day. At the funeral.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m fine. Or at least I’ll be fine. Eventually.” I sigh. “Hopefully.”

He’s staring at me like he wants to pull me in for a hug, and I really wish he would. But instead, he turns and walks out of the aisle, toward the exit. I stop at the restroom on our way out. He grabs a trash can and starts to pull it toward the theater we just came out of.

“See you tomorrow, Clara.”

I don’t tell him goodbye. I walk into the restroom and don’t even bother pretending things will be the same at school tomorrow as they were tonight. He’ll avoid me while being all faithful and shit, and whatever. That’s okay. I need to stop interacting with him anyway, because as good as it feels when I’m around him, it’s starting to hurt when I’m not. And I don’t need another painful thing added to my already existing pile of excruciating feelings.

ColleenHoover

About Colleen Hoover

Colleen Hoover is the #1 New York Times and International bestselling author of thirteen novels and multiple novellas. She lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. She is the founder of The Bookworm Box, a non-profit book subscription service and bookstore in Sulphur Springs, Texas.

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Blog Tour: Kiss Me with Lies by S.M. Soto

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Two sisters. One unsolved murder. A sickening plot for revenge.

Kiss Me With Lies, an all-new edge-of-your-seat romance from S.M. Soto, is available now!

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When Mackenzie Wright attends her first real high school party, held somewhere deep in the woods of her small California town, no one expects to wake up the next morning to news of a gruesome murder. Especially not her own sister’s.

No suspects.

No motive.

No convictions.

Just one unsolved murder and whatever’s left of the now deserted town.

Mackenzie has spent years with her sister’s death weighing heavily on her shoulders, but it isn’t until she stumbles across a photograph that changes everything for her. The memories, everything from that night, come flashing back in high-speed technicolor and Mackenzie soon finds herself obsessed with the truth.

Determined to find out what really happened to her sister, Mackenzie relies on that one photograph to give her the answers she needs by embedding herself into the lives of five of the wealthiest men in Los Angeles. Consumed by her need for revenge, Mackenzie infiltrates the world of the rich and elite, only to come face-to-face with an alluring complication in the form an elusive playboy.

When enemy lines are drawn, Mackenzie has to choose between her loyalty to her sister and the man who has stolen her heart.

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Pre-order the stunning conclusion, Bury Me with Lies!

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Excerpt

I don’t know how much time passes, but it’s long enough that it dawns on me Winnie is still gone. She’s no longer in the spot she was when she left to go mingle. She’s nowhere to be found actually. My stomach sloshes as I sway when I climb to my feet. I realize I may have consumed way too much beer. I’ve obviously overestimated myself and my drinking abilities.

My legs feel weird, and I’m pretty sure if I bit my tongue off right now, I wouldn’t even feel it. Everything feels blissfully numb. In my drunken state, it takes me a while to process the loud voices being directed at me.

“Hey, you! Get over here!”

When I pick my gaze up, hazy vision and all, my eyes settle on the group of hulking guys standing not too far away from me, and it’s then I realize the rowdy group is talking to me. My brows pull down, or at least I think they do, and I look over my shoulder, trying to see if these jocks can be talking to anyone else, but, sure enough, I’m the only one here.

One of them barks out a laugh at my actions.

“Yes, I’m talking to you. Get over here!” The voice is deep. A guy’s voice. When I find the source, my stomach clenches because I recognize who the voice belongs to. Trent Ainsworth. All-around asshole, hot jock, and one of the five Savages of Humboldt County.

Yeah, that’s right. I said Savages.

Honestly, I think they’re more in line with devils.

Because that’s exactly what these assholes are in our small town. Each of their ancestors is a founding family. They’re like great white sharks, swimming amongst a sea of us trout. Or are we sardines? Jesus. I can’t even think straight anymore.

Trent’s bastard, jock rich friends call themselves the Savages. Town royalty. Amongst other ridiculous nicknames.

Why? No one really knows.

They’re like a rabid pack of wolves—the strongest of their pack. They stick together, though it remains unknown who, out of the five of them, is the alpha.

Over the years, I’ve watched them from afar. I’ve heard the rumors, and even though they can be just that, rumors; part of me never truly believed it. They were constantly up to no good. If there was a brawl at school or at a party, everyone already knew who was behind it. If there was a commotion in town late at night, the rest of the people in Ferndale knew to stay indoors. If they destructed town property, the sheriff and the rest of the police were never anywhere to be found. If there was a girl in town who swore one of the five had hurt her, nothing would happen. Every single one of them walked around like they didn’t have a single care in the world—and I guess in a way, they didn’t. They were rich as sin, and had mommy and daddy’s money to get them out of any kind of serious trouble.

It was obvious I didn’t know much about them. We didn’t hang in the same circles and certainly, they didn’t even know of my existence. But what I do know is, they’re trouble, wrapped in beautiful packaging.

Want to know how I know they’re trouble? Madison has been trying to get on their radar for years. One night. She just wants one night with any of the relentless Savages who run this town, but I guess none of them have shown any interest in her yet. They’re selective assholes who think they’re more powerful than God.

I’m not sure what that says about them—the devils—for turning her down the way they have.

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and force my legs to walk over to them without any drunken mishaps. Of course, that’s too much to ask for. The tip of my beat-up, white Converse snags on air, I guess, and my body hurtles forward. Dizzying colors blur before my eyes—a blend of angry orange, vivid green, and hazy brown. I see the ground coming toward me, but I can’t seem to stop it from happening. Suddenly, strong, warm arms wrap around me, and I’m no longer falling.

“Whoa.” The voice chuckles. “Take it easy. You all right, sweetheart?”

I look up, my vision splitting on the figure holding me. There’s two of him standing before me and I can’t seem to focus my gaze, no matter how hard I try. Trent Ainsworth is gorgeous in his own right, but up close and personal, he’s a living god. His face breaks out into a grin as he stares down at me and brushes a stray hair off my round face. His finger grazes my freckled cheek, and my heart lurches in my throat.

Holy crap.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out here alone?” His pretty eyes search my face for answers.

Beautiful? Did he really call me beautiful?

Blushing under the weight of his gaze, I fumble with my words.

“I-I’m not … b-beautiful … you’re not … this isn’t … a-alone …”

When Trent chuckles, I’m distracted by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, but he helps me stand straight, and I notice his hand lingers on my wrist. He’s something larger than life, with the way his whole hand engulfs my arm. I hear his friends, the rest of the hellish crew, laughing behind him, probably at me, but I don’t care.

He thinks I’m beautiful?

He noticed me?

How did this gorgeous guy notice me before my sister? It’s almost too good to be true.

Trent glances over his shoulder, and his buddies laugh some more before he turns back toward me. “Want to get away from these assholes and talk?” he offers. I dart my gaze over his shoulder and realize I’m nodding as I stare at his formidable friends.

“C’mon,” he says. Wrapping his hand firmly around my wrist, he leads me away from the fire and deeper into the woods. A voice in my head screams not to follow him, but I do. This is the one thing I can have that Madison hasn’t had. Trent Ainsworth.

He noticed me. He wants to talk to me. Alone.

Me.

Trent surprises me by stopping just before the entrance into the woods, so we still have a clear view of his friends and the rest of the party.

“Finally,” he breathes, resting his back up against the trunk of one of the many redwoods here. “It feels good to get a little peace and quiet. I was getting tired of pretending to have fun.”

His words make me smile. My lips itch to spread across my face, showcasing my braces, but I fight it, opting for a closed-lip smile instead.

He was pretending, too?

“So who did you come here with?” he asks. I realize he’s trying to have a conversation with me.

I clear my throat, moving my foot through the dirt anxiously. “My friend Winnie dragged me here. This is the first party I’ve ever been to, and honestly, I’m not all that impressed.”

Trent laughs. It’s deep and husky and so freaking hot.

“Ouch. You realize the guys and I put this together?”

My cheeks heat in embarrassment. Crap.“I’m sorry,” I say, cringing.

He chuckles again. “Don’t apologize. You’re being honest, and I like that. Not many girls are honest nowadays.” His eyes roam my face, and my heart continues its quest to burst out of my chest. His gaze drops down to the cup I realize I still have clutched in my hand. “First time drinking?”

“How can you tell?” I tease, my lips twisting with amusement.

He shrugs. “You have this pretty flush on your skin. It looks cute.”

I dart my gaze down to my feet, trying like hell to hide how happy his comment makes me.

“Hey,” he says. His hand lightly touches my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. Before my eyes settle on his, I take in the tattoo on his inner forearm—the one he and all his friends have. It’s a skeleton key with an actual skull outlined and an eye with a triangle around it that rests on the skull’s forehead. It’s kind of creepy. “Don’t hide from me, Mackenzie. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

My breath catches as I stare into his eyes and watch as they fill with heat. So much heat, I feel something stirring in my stomach. The sensation is one I’m not familiar with.

Wait—he knows my name? I don’t have the guts to ask how he knows my name. He’s one of the elite. I’m sure they know everything about everyone here in Ferndale.

“Thank you,” I breathe out in a rush of air. Trent glances toward the bonfire, and I try to follow his gaze, but his next words have my heart seizing in my chest.

“Can I kiss you, Mackenzie?” His hands are already on my face, pulling my mouth toward his, and his body is already leaning closer. My nipples pebble against the material of my bra. It’s such a foreign sensation, one I’ve never experienced before, yet I find it titillating all the same. I say yes before I can think better of it.

His lips graze mine lightly at first. I’m so flustered and buzzed, I let out an embarrassing moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss. I taste him—a mixture of beer and gum. I feel his hands gliding along my overheated skin, and I can smell the burning logs from the bonfire. I can vaguely make out the sound of hollering laughter, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from, and the truth is, I don’t even care. His hands find their place along my hips and slide down my thick thighs, toying with the material of my sweater dress. When his fingers make contact with the skin of my inner thigh, I slip my arms around his neck, and I kiss him. Hard.

This is my first kiss, and if this is how all first kisses go, I will never complain another day in my life. This doesn’t even seem real. It’s too perfect, too intimate, too much like a dream. I don’t ever want—

“What the fuck is going on?”

I jolt away from Trent at the sound of her voice. I’d know it anywhere. Hell, it haunts me in my dreams. And when I get up every morning. Slowly, I turn on my heel and face my sister, who looks completely unhinged. I’ve never ever seen her look this angry. And sadly, all that anger is directed at me.

“What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing, Mackenzie?”

I open my mouth to say something, but before I can get words out, Trent steps closer behind me, resting his hand on my hip.

“Leave us alone. We’re in the middle of something.”

Madison doesn’t acknowledge Trent. Instead, she continues to glare daggers at me. Her anger is written all over her, and I can read every thought that crosses her mind.

How dare you.

He should be mine.

He’s supposed to be mine—they all are.

“God, what did you do, promise him a fucking blow job to get him over here with you? You’re disgusting, Kenz,” Madison spits. “And you …” She focuses her wrath on Trent now. “If you go any further with her, you’re going to regret it come tomorrow morning when you realize just how low you stooped while drunk. I think those shots have you mistaking one sister for the other. Come near her again, and I’ll hurt you, Ainsworth.”

My throat constricts at her words, and tears burn my eyes. How can she be so mean? So vile? We’re sisters, not enemies. Is it really so bad that Trent would want to kiss me instead of her? There are four other friends she can have. Why can’t she let me just have this one thing?

Madison is the queen at everything she does. She has everything, while I’m always shoved in the corner, forgotten about in the shadows.

“Screw you, Mads,” I choke out, fighting back embarrassing tears.

She laughs at me and crosses her arms over her ample chest. “If you don’t go home with me right now, I’ll tell Dad what a little slut you’ve been tonight. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out I caught you having sex?”

I blanch. “What? But I—”

“Who do you think he’ll believe?” She’s right. He’ll believe her. It’s always her.

Blowing out a sad sigh, I turn toward Trent just as he bends down, his lips grazing my ear. “My friends and I will be here all night. Sneak out and meet me at the kissing rock once you can get out, okay?”

I back away and look up at him. I’ve never snuck out before. The thought has never even crossed my mind, but I know tonight will be my first.

“Okay.” I smile secretively before I turn on my heel and follow my sister.

The whole way back to her car, she’s mumbling angrily under her breath. In my drunken state, I should be worried about her driving, but we don’t live far. Our house is only a few blocks away.

“Ugh!” She brusquely growls. “I can’t believe you would stoop this low and do this to me.”

“Me?” I damn near screech. “Why is it so hard for you to get along with me, Madison?” I yell. “Why is everything always about you? You have everything already. Why can’t I have this one thing? He noticed me. Maybe he actually even likes me. Why can’t you just let me have this? Why do you have to ruin this for me, too?”

“Newsflash, Mackenzie, he doesn’t like you. He isn’t interested in you. He wants me. He’s just using you to get to me.”

I laugh darkly. It’s such an odd, foreign sound as it bursts past my lips. “Bullshit. You wouldn’t be so angry if that was true. You hate that he chose me over you. You can’t believe he wants to meet me at the kissing rock tonight and not you!”

She stops walking and turns to me with fire in her eyes. “He told you to meet him at the kissing rock tonight?”

I nod smugly. “He did.”

Her lips curl into a sneer. “Get in the car. We’re going home.”

The drive home is silent and awkward. When Madison parks in the driveway, the look she shoots my way makes me want to cry like a frightened little girl. That’s the power of Madison’s glare. She has the capacity to eviscerate and kill with a single glance.

“You’re going to go inside and be the good girl everyone knows you are. This isn’t you, Mackenzie. Stop trying to be like me.”

“I’m not trying to be you,” I mumble.

“Oh, yeah? Trying to take Trent from me says otherwise. Just get inside before I make the next year of your life a living hell.”

“Where are you going?” I ask as I push the door open.

“To meet Trent at the kissing rock, of course.”

My stomach bottoms out, and my heart shatters. “But …”

She smirks in satisfaction. “We all know I’m the hotter sister everyone wants—might as well give Trent a night he’ll never forget.”

“But he said me. He wanted me. He won’t sleep with you after tonight. I just know he won’t.”

Madison laughs. “He’s drunk, Mackenzie. He doesn’t care about you, or who shows up at the rock. He just wants to fuck, and we all know you can’t do that. Now shut my door.”

With tears swimming in my eyes, I do as she says and shut the door.

When I walk into the house, I know my parents are sleeping because all the lights are off. I climb up the stairs and head straight to the shower. The tears fall in hot streams, and I cry freely without fear my sister will hear and use it against me somehow.

It’s unfair.

Why is it always her?

She gets everything while I get nothing. I’m always the afterthought. The loser. The nobody. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be any different.

I climb into bed, inflamed ankles and all, and sob into my pillow until I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up the next morning, it’s to a shrill scream coming from the kitchen. I run downstairs, and my feet slow on the final steps when I see two police officers, and in the kitchen near the front door, my mom is on her knees with tears streaming down her face.

Sheriff Keller stands in front of her with an expression that makes my stomach sour.

“We’re sorry, Monica.”
His next words have my stomach hollowing out and the blood draining from my face.

Body’s been identified.

Found at kissing rock.

Homicide investigation.

I shake my head, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. It can’t be. There’s no way.

“We’re looking into all possible leads on what could’ve happened to your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Wright. Her body showed signs of trauma as well as …” he clears his throat, “as well as signs of assault.”

“What does that mean?” my father asks, voice hoarse.

Keller sighs. “Michael … it means she was raped.”

“My baby!” my mom screams, and the sound of it rains nails down my back. I sway violently on my feet and clutch the banister rail for support as realization sets in.

My sister was murdered.

Her body was found at the kissing rock.

The very last place I was supposed to meet Trent and his friends last night.

Madison wasn’t supposed to be found dead at that rock this morning. It was supposed to be me.

SMSotoLogoAbout S.M. Soto

S.M. Soto was born and raised in Northern, California where she currently resides with her son. Her love for reading began when she was a young girl, and has only continued to grow into adulthood. S.M. lives for reading books in the romance genre and writing novels with relatable characters. She refers to herself

as a bit of a romance junkie. S.M. loves to connect with readers and eat copious of donuts that will surely lead to her demise.

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Blog Tour: The Rebel King by Kennedy Ryan

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“This is the future of romance.” — Adriana Herrera, author of the Dreamers series

The Rebel King, the powerful conclusion to the All The King’s Men Duet, from USA Today bestselling author Kennedy Ryan,

is available now!

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Ambition. Revenge. Love.

RITA® Award-winning author Kennedy Ryan delivers the gripping conclusion to the All the King’s Men Duet.

Raised to resist. Bred to fight. Survival is in my blood and surrender is never an option.

Though surrender is what Maxim Cade demanded of my body and heart, I had other plans. We were fast-burning fascination and combustible chemistry, but the man I trusted with everything was a trickster. A thief who stole my love. If what we had was a lie, why did it feel so real? The man I swore to hate will have it all, and wants me at his side. But power is a game, and we’re the pawns and players.

Facing insurmountable odds, will we win the world, or will we lose it all?

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Excerpt

Her words break on a sob, and the elegant line of her shoulders trembles. “No one like you.”

I palm her breasts, squeezing the tight nipples between my fingers. Her indrawn breath tells me she likes it.

“Anything you want,” she pants, circling her ass on me. “Take it.”

“I want today with you,” I say, changing the angle of my thrust slightly, but hitting a new spot that makes her moan.

“I can’t.”

I force myself to stop abruptly and start easing out.

“No!” She reaches back and grabs my ass. “Don’t you dare.”

I stop pulling out, but don’t move. She squirms, tries to grind on my cock, but I grip her hips, holding her still.

“Son of a bitch,” she growls. “Finish me, Doc.”

“No.”

“Do you think I don’t feel how hard that cock is? You want this, too.”

“Obviously,” I force my voice to casual, like it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. “But I want a day with you more. What’s it going to be?”

I push in and give her a quick, shallow thrust.

“Oh, yes.” She starts circling her hips, and I stop again. “Bastard!” “I’ve told you my terms.”

My cock hates me, silently cursing me in four different languages for not finishing this right now.

“One day,” she concedes breathlessly. “I can give you one day.”

I take off the reins and fuck her until we’re both shaking. We almost fall when our orgasms hit. I ease out, sit on the shower bench and set her on my lap. Greedy, thirsty, we kiss until my lips are numb, her fingers burrowing into my wet hair, my fingers tunneled into hers. I break the kiss, taking her face between my slick hands and searching her eyes.

“One day,” I remind her, panting.

She nods, sucking my bottom lip smiling. “One day.”

picmonkey_imageAbout Kennedy

USA Today bestseller, RITA® Award Winner and Top 25 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the center of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations, but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director

of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

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Blog Tour: Between Now and Heartbreak by Dylan Allen

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He’s searching for the truth.

I’m living a lie.

And as much as we want to,

we can’t stay away from each other.

Between Now and Heartbreak, part two in the binge-worthy sexy and compelling Forever Trilogy from Dylan Allen, is available now!

HEARTBREAK_RED

He’s searching for the truth.

I’m living a lie.

And as much as we want to,

we can’t stay away from each other.

Falling for Carter nearly cost me everything.

To save myself I made a deal with the devil.

Now, I’ve got a second chance and more to lose than ever.

So when he makes it clear he wants me back,

I vow not to make the same mistake twice.

Carter has learned his lesson, too.

He’s done making promises.

This time, he’s staking his claim.

He already owns a piece of my heart,

But he won’t settle for less than all of me.

And by the time his seduction is done, I’ll want to give it to him.

But I made promises I have to keep.

And the devil I owe has come to collect his due.

heartbreak an BT

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Excerpt

“I’m going to kiss you, now,” Carter says it like he’s giving a dire warning.

“My goodness, you’re presumptuous,” I sigh, but don’t pull away. I couldn’t. His mouth is so close. That song was so beautiful and catchy. God, talk about talent.

“Fortune is on my side tonight. So, I’m going for broke. Let me kiss you,” his voice is rumble.

I’m giddy with whatever is happening, but… “Carter you said we’d just be friends.” I lick my lower lip and his eyes dart to it and he moves closer to me. His big hands move so that he’s cupping head.

“No, you said. I told you it was a terrible idea.” His voice is all seduction and mischief. A million humming birds flutter in my chest at the perfectly wicked smile he’s wearing as he brings his face toward mine.

His eyes glitter green hued promises that make heat curl in my belly, and alarm bells ring in my head.

“What are—”

His lips press softly to mine and cut off my words. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes flutter shut at the touch. His lips are soft, warm and his kiss is as light as gossamer. He starts to pull away and before I can think, I’ve slid a hand into his thick soft hair and I’m pulling his mouth back to mine. He chuckles before he covers my lips with his, shoves a hand into my hair and slides his tongue into my mouth.

And holy God, does it feel good. His hands are everywhere, running down my back, cupping my ass, pushing into the hot space between my legs through the fabric. His fingers find the heat and wet that is building and spilling from me. Through the cotton gusset of my panties, his fingers are blunt and hard and demanding and so good.

I want him. I want him. I want him.

I want everything so much I can’t breathe.

I’m desperate to feel him where I need him.

There’s an ache that started blooming the night I met that only he has been able to soothe.

I groan and grind into his fingers until I feel just a taste of what I know is to come.

“Please,” I whimper and press down.

Suddenly he breaks our kiss, and pulls his hand away from me with a curse. and presses his forehead to mine. I keep my eyes closed while I try to catch my breath and still my thundering heart.

“I’m leaving, Beth. It’s time for me to go back home.”

Start the series with Between Now and Forever today!

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Pre-order the stunning conclusion, Between Now and Always!

Releasing December 8th

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About Dylan Allen

Dylan Allen is a Texas girl with a serious case of wanderlust.

A self-proclaimed happily ever junkie, she loves creating stories where her characters chase their own happy endings.

When she isn’t writing or reading, eating or cooking, she and her family are planning their next adventure.

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