When my husband died, I never thought I would find love again.
I definitely didn’t think I would find it in the arms of my younger best friend. Why would the hunky hockey player want anything to do with me? I’m a stressed out writer with a lot of baggage. Any other man would say, “Hard pass!”
But Noah was the best man I’ve ever known, and if it wasn’t for him, I might not be alive.
But am I ready to put my heart on the line again?
Noah
I’ve pined for my best friend for so long, that my teammates issued an ultimatum.
“Make your move now or one of us will ask her out.”
They are just trying to push me, besides none of those jerks would ever be good enough for her. Makes me wonder if I even stand a chance.
Besides, what would a smart woman like her want with a dumb jock like me?
Get ready to meet The Philadelphia Bulldogs hockey team, in this steamy and hot stand-alone novel. If you love sexy sports romances and friends-to-lovers with an HEA, this book is for you! CW: This book deals with miscarriage and infertility.
Narrated by Paul Stefano & Avie Paige Duration: 6 hours 42 minutes
Danica Flynn is a marketer by day, and a writer by nights and weekends. AKA she doesn’t sleep! She is a rabid hockey fan of both The Philadelphia Flyers and the Metropolitan Riveters. When not writing, she can be found hanging with her partner, playing video games, and reading a ton of books.
Bratva Beauty Sabine Barclay
(The Ivankov Brotherhood, #4)
Published by: Oliver Heber Books
Publication date: November 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance
She can pretend not to notice…
They say I’m the best looking in my family. I couldn’t care less.
But her…She takes my breath away.
Not everyone sees her the way I do. That’s fine by me because she’s mine.
I pity those who think they can come between us.
I won’t stop until she’s at my side. Mine to touch. Mine to love. Mine to push to her limits then bring her back.
She’s my everything. She’s my soulmate.
Bratva Beauty is an interconnecting, standalone Dark Mafia Romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger. It contains extra-steamy scenes that will make your toes curl and your granny blush. This is book four in The Ivankov Brotherhood, a six-book series that’ll keep you warm at night.
Sabine Barclay, a nom de plume also writing Historical Romance as Celeste Barclay, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Sabine enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She’s an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. Before becoming a full-time author, Sabine was a Social Studies and English teacher. She holds degrees in International Affairs (BA), Secondary Social Science (MAT), and Political Management (MPS). She channels that knowledge into creating engrossing contemporary romances that will make your toes curl and your granny blush.
Logan “Crow” Taylor had every intention of not getting involved in trouble after gaining his freedom and rejoining his motorcycle club. But when the rough and rowdy biker crosses paths with a single mother in need of help and his protection, he can’t turn his back and walk away.
Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Audible, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play!
Chelle Bliss is the Wall Street Journal & USA Today bestselling author of Men of Inked Series and Misadventures of a City Girl.
She’s a full-time writer, time-waster extraordinaire, social media addict, coffee fiend, ex-high school history teacher, and currently lives near the beach even though she hates sand. Chelle loves spending time with her two cats, alpha boyfriend, and chatting with readers.
My, oh my. I think I have a new favorite out of all Lani Lynn Vale’s books. This one really got to me. If you want an emotional read that will bring you to tears yet give you the happy ending you crave, then this one is a must read!
I loved getting to see more about Dory and Bram’s past, as well as getting to know them in the present. It helped me understand more of what’s been happening in the previous books when we’ve caught glimpses of them. And I have to say, Ms. Vale outdid herself with this one. So many twists and turns. The story gripped me from page one and I couldn’t put it down.
*Disclaimer: I received an ARC and am voluntarily leaving a review. The review above is only my opinion.
She’s no Cinderella and she doesn’t get the prince.
With one last push to make her dreams come true, Jo Patree moves to the idyllic PNW island town of Perry Harbor to start her personal chef business. With money tight, she reluctantly takes on a local tech-bro jerk as a client. But when he doesn’t act like the bro she’s used to, she can’t hold back her attraction to his sinfully sexy dimples, not to mention the rest of him.
After his lucrative tech career became collateral damage in an IP infringement case, Lucas Bakker is home temporarily, helping his brother take over the family tulip farm. If he has to be here, he might as well eat good food and finally learn to cook. But when the sassy, sexy chef who used to make the addictive sweet treats at his favorite Seattle restaurant turns out to be the most tempting woman he’s ever met, he breaks all of his own rules to make her his.
As the infringement case takes an unexpected turn, Lucas and Jo are forced to decide. Risk it all holding on to a dream neither of them imagined, or simply let it go. Can Lucas convince Jo that what they have is real, or will he lose her and all her sweetness forever?
Christina Braver writes steamy, small town, contemporary romance set in the Pacific Northwest. Her stories are about real people and real love with the guaranteed HEA we all need.
She’s been reading romance for decades and loves to escape into stories about strong heroes with softer sides and independent heroines with a bit of sass.
She strives to support allyship in her writing and portray diversity in everyday life. She believes together, we will save the world.
When she isn’t writing, Christina can be found reading in her favorite corner chair, sipping wine and laughing too loudly with friends, or cooking dinners that always take twice as long as the recipe suggests. She lives in Seattle with her husband who shares his bourbon, and two teenagers that keep them both on their toes.
And just like her favorite latte, her books have some steam. If that’s not your regular brew, you may want to change your order. Enjoy!
Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Action & Adventure
Date Published: 09/30/2022
Cotton: When I avenged my sister’s murder, I knew the consequences. I
didn’t expect anything less than prison. I got it. In spades. I
survived ten years of hell. I was just fifteen when I was sent away but I
never regretted taking the law into my own hands. But the father of the man
I killed is now a judge, and the ten years I gave the state might not be
enough.
I thought I could disappear into the little Kentucky town and keep my head
down and keep my nose clean. What could be so hard about that? But I’m on
parole and everything is stacked against me. When the only place that will
hire me happens to be a biker bar, staying out of trouble might be too much
for me to manage. Then Chase steamrolls into my life and I know I have much
more than my freedom to lose. This man has the power to tear out my
heart.
Chase: I’ve spent the better part of my life in the shadows. Before
Bones MC, my team worked for some shady people — as assassins. I thought I
was sacrificing for the greater good. Turns out I was just one more bad guy
working for more bad guys. I can’t seem to atone for the sins of my
past. No matter what I do, those demons still haunt me.
The second I spot Cotton, everything changes. Everything about the girl
screams “battered woman,” but she’s more than that. There
is death in her eyes. She’s killed, but she’s not a killer. No
matter what, no matter who comes after her, I will protect her till my last
breath. Because she is my only salvation. She’s my woman.
“Let me go. Now.” That was another thing I’d learned in
prison. You put up or shut up. Once I’d set a boundary, I had to
follow through or this would never end. And this guy would get what he
wanted.
He squeezed my arm harder, this time standing and pulling me against him.
“You’ll get under that fuckin’ table and suck my
fuckin’ dick like the good little whore you are, or I’ll carry
you outa here and we’ll all have a fuckin’ go.”
His buddies laughed and clinked beer bottles like it was one big party.
There was no way I could keep these guys from doing whatever they wanted
unless someone came to my rescue. Which this guy had obviously planned for.
It was a dark corner fairly close to the door. All he had to do was get me
outside before anyone noticed. Assuming anyone cared. But I had the feeling
the guys from Bones might take exception to anyone outside their territory
taking an employee out of their bar. That’s the way it was in prison.
Bones may not claim me as one of their own, but they would absolutely not
allow another gang to disrupt their business or mess with their employees.
At least, that’s what I was counting on.
The second the words were out of his mouth, my hand shot between his legs
and grabbed his crotch. I squeezed his balls as hard as I could, thankful
he’d grabbed my left arm and not my right. He gave a strangled cry and
doubled over, letting go of my arm, trying to pry my fingers loose but
unable to do more than weakly tug at my wrist. I squeezed just that little
bit tighter, putting every ounce of strength I had into hanging on and
tugging with a sharp jerk. The big guy fell to his knees and I let go,
stepping back quickly. I gripped my heavy serving tray in both hands,
bringing it back like I was readying myself to hit him with it even as I
continued to back away.
I bumped into someone and a big palm landed on my shoulder. I thought I was
in big trouble, but the hand pulled me back gently, and a huge guy stepped
in front of me, putting himself between me and the three men at the
table.
“There a problem here?”
“Yeah, there’s a fuckin’ problem! Bitch threw herself at
me then tried to back out. Tried to crush my fuckin’ balls for no
fuckin’ reason!”
“In my experience, women like Cotton don’t put their hands on
men like you willingly.” Oh, my God! Could this night get any worse?
The man who’d come to my rescue was Chase Dutton. I knew he was a
member of Bones, but I tried to stay away from him as much as I could. It
was no secret his brother was a police officer and the last thing I wanted
was to have another set of eyes on me. I had no idea why Pops and Cain had
hired me, but I didn’t want any complications in case they changed
their mind.
“Why, you son of a bitch!”
The big guy lunged at Chase, but Chase simply caught him by the throat,
pulling a gun and bringing it to the man’s temple in one smooth move.
The second the barrel touched his head, Chase cocked it.
“No one touches the servers. Especially when they don’t want
it.”
“But she –” He was cut off when Chase brought the butt of the
gun down on his head once before putting the barrel back to his temple. The
guy’s knees threatened to buckle, but he kept his footing.
Barely.
“Don’t matter if she did. When you touched her, she changed her
mind. That’s all that counts. So you and your buddies here are all
gonna fuckin’ leave the bar. Now. Don’t come back.”
“You can’t throw us out!” One of his buddies had stood
but made no move to get help. In fact, he had his hands up and backed up a
couple steps, belying his statement.
“He can,” Pops said, coming up behind me. Again, he moved me
gently out of the way, putting himself between me and the three men.
“So can I. We both say to get the fuck out.”
The bar had quietened near us, but the other side seemed oblivious. I
looked around to see a couple at my tables raising nearly empty glasses or
bottles wanting refills. I desperately wanted to duck my head and just go on
about my job, but I had no idea what was expected of me.
“You good, Cotton?” Chase asked, not looking back at me but
still eyeing the men who’d yet to leave.
“Yes,” I said softly. Automatically. My arm hurt, but I
wasn’t about to draw more attention to myself. “May I go back to
work?”
He glanced at me then and I quickly looked away. Chase Dutton was the
sexiest man I’d ever seen. And a man I had no business even looking
at. He also seemed to hate me on sight. Cain and Pops both assured me they
would keep my incarceration to themselves, and I didn’t want to take a
chance on anyone else finding out. Which Chase likely had. Things always
changed when anyone found out. People I thought were friends suddenly wanted
nothing to do with me. I couldn’t really blame them, but it hurt that
no one thought me important enough to find out my side of the story.
I’d kind of been crushing on Chase from a distance, and to have him
affirm that I wasn’t worth befriending — even though I already knew
that’s what he thought — would hurt worse than when it had happened
before. Because I was stupid to let my emotions get the better of me like
this.
“What?” Chase glanced back at me, then snapped, “No you
can’t go back to work! Get your ass to the office! I’ll talk to
you after I’ve taken out the trash over here.”
Oksana – Growing up in the Bratva wasn’t easy, especially for a woman. At twenty, I thought I’d get married soon. Start my own family. All approved by my family, of course. It never occurred to me, my father would implicate me in his shady dealings, or that I’d be punished in the most severe way. So I run, with the help of a friend, and go straight to the Dixie Reapers. I don’t know what I expected. Certainly not for a sexy man to make my heart flutter, or make me wish for things I shouldn’t. I’m pretty sure I’m falling for him. Grimm will do his best to keep me safe, but who’s going to protect my heart?
Grimm –The Bratva is in my rearview, where I want them to stay. I haven’t heard from my last remaining relative in a long, long time. So when Nikolai sends Oksana to me, it’s a bit of a shock, to say the least. But the more I get to know her, the more protective I feel. In my gut, I know she’s mine. The Bratva can try to take her if they want… anyone who comes for my woman better have their affairs in order. I’ll put every last one of them in the ground.
WARNING: Grimm is part of the Dixie Reapers MC series and is intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations and bad language. Sensitive readers should proceed with caution. No cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA.
Available NOW at ChangelingPress.com or Preorder for Sept 23 at your favorite bookseller…
No matter how scared I felt, I couldn’t show it. Growing up in the Bratva, I’d learned early these men fed on fear. The more terrified you were, the more empowered they became. I’d stand here, listen to everything they said, then once I was alone again, I’d throw up and bawl my eyes out.
Nikolai did his best to shield me, but it wasn’t enough. Not this time. Feliks may have softened since marrying Raina, but to the rest of us, he remained a monster. And now, he held my life in his hands. Why? Because my father decided to gamble with the Bratva and lost in a big way. Not only had he lost his ranking and had his wealth stripped, but he’d forfeited his family as well.
My sixteen-year-old sister couldn’t contain her tears. They ran freely down her cheeks as she sobbed and wrapped her arms around her waist. Feliks seemed unmoved, flipping through the papers on his desk. What would become of us? I’d already heard what happened to our mother. Would our fate be the same?
“Yulia Romanov, you will study at the prestigious girls’ academy downtown until your eighteenth birthday, at which time, the Vor will select a husband for you.” Feliks didn’t look up as my sister cried even harder. “You will leave immediately, and we will provide clothing.”
I straightened my spine and waited. At twenty, my options were limited. If he didn’t marry me off to someone, then I’d most likely be put to work in the brothels. Neither fate seemed like something I’d survive.
“Oksana Romanov.” Feliks lifted his gaze and leaned back in his chair. I flinched slightly, and he smiled. The bastard. “Your father speaks highly of you. According to him, he could have never accomplished so much without the help of his beloved Oksana.”
My eyes went wide. What the hell was he saying? I’d never helped my dad!
“Many people were hurt due to your father’s actions. He’s paid the price for his crimes. Now it’s your turn.” Feliks motioned to someone behind me. I didn’t get a chance to turn around before my wrists were bound at my back. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I fought to stay upright. Black dots swam across my vision, and I sucked in a deep breath. What was going on? “Oksana Romanov, you will be beaten, sold, and used until the day you die. It’s no less than you deserve, considering what happened to the women you lured into your father’s trap.”
No. I hadn’t! I’d have never done such a thing. I knew my pleas would fall on deaf ears. Protesting wouldn’t do me any good. He’d never believe I was innocent of the crimes he said I’d committed. Yulia started to scream as they dragged me from the room. The men guided me to a car and shoved me into the backseat. The sound of the door slamming shut felt like the end of my short life.
Did Nikolai know what they planned to do? Had he tried to stop them?
The buildings passed in a blur until we reached the warehouse district. The men pulled me from the vehicle and shoved me inside. The air smelled dank and musty. The vast space held only a table, chair, and a ratty-looking mattress. One of the men lifted a hunk of my hair and sniffed it, a lecherous smile curving his lips.
“Are you a virgin, little one?”
ABOUT HARLEY
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off-the-charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
GIVEAWAY
Enter for a chance to win a 2022 Harley Wylde mini wall calender featuring the hunky men from her MC series! Open Worldwide until September 30, 2022.
For three years I’ve kept my son a secret in order to protect him from the dangers of the syndicate. A life his Irish father is still a part of.
When I have to return to Brooklyn, I don’t expect Nathan to be the first person I see. For a moment, the world disappears and it’s only the two of us. Until reality intrudes.
Because there’s no more hiding the fact that the blue-eyed, red-haired little boy at my side is his.
Nathan
Neither time nor the distance separating us has made me forget Lucia. From our first meeting, there’s been some part of her that calls to me.
With the discovery of my son, I’m even more determined to prove to her that she’s mine.
Soon though, a possessive stalker from her past re-emerges, and he wants her for himself. We begin a deadly game of hide-and-seek, and when it’s over, only one of us will be left standing.
Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, Kobo!
L.K. Shaw is the bestselling author of sexy, sinful suspense. She resides in South Carolina with her high maintenance beagle mix dog, Miss P. An avid reader since childhood, she became hooked on historical romance novels in high school. She now reads, and loves, all romance sub-genres, with dark romance and romantic suspense being her favorite. Her books feature hot alpha heroes and the strong women they love. L.K. describes herself as a world traveler, chocolate lover, and perpetual procrastinator.
She thinks she might be losing her mind…but she knows she’s losing her heart.
Poised. Elegant. Lovely. The local press loves to write glowing stories about Lana Fitzhugh, the youngest sibling and only sister of the famous Minnesota Fitzhugh family. But Lana’s past holds secrets, pain and shame…so much that she’s unworthy of a relationship with any good man, especially her brother Fitz’s close friend Mac. Keeping her distance from him is the right thing to do, so why can’t she stop thinking about him?
Finally settling into his first new job after long months of recovery from a severe injury, when Joe ‘Mac’ MacKenzie meets Lana Fitzhugh, the former Navy pilot thinks things might finally be looking up for him. His friend’s little sister is gorgeous, kind and makes his heart and body come alive again. But after they share an explosive embrace, she pushes him away so hard he’s still reeling.
When tragedy plunges Lana into the unexpected role of guardian to a preschooler, odd coincidences begin to happen…and grow increasingly more sinister. As Lana begins to fear that she herself might be the source of the danger, Mac doesn’t hesitate to return to help her. The only thing better than the joy they discover as a makeshift family is the passion they find in each other’s arms, but the unknown menace still grows closer every day. Will they be able to move beyond the past to grab for a future together?
Excerpt
“I have to admit that I’m impressed by how well you handled all the questions from the police about Brock Templeton,” Lana said grudgingly. Joe ‘Mac’ MacKenzie was already much too cocky, and his ego hardly needed any stroking. Watching him with the officers, though, had been like watching a master. She could easily see how he’d earned so many promotions and honors as a Navy pilot.
He shrugged, not taking his hands off the wheel, but the small smile he gave—and why couldn’t he be a little less handsome?—was self-satisfied. “It’s the accent,” he answered, really laying it on thick. “Like my daddy said, a Southern man tells the best jokes and is always welcome at any dinner table or gatherin’.”
She snorted, and not the usual elegant sniff that sometimes escaped but a full-on nasal rattling noise. “You sound like Tom Hanks’ cousin from the deeper South—like, the Mariana Trench of Alabama.”
“Oh, no, ma’am, not Alabama—perish the thought! My family’s pure Georgia. How did you guess I was from Mariana Trench, though?” he teased. “My granddaddy was mayor of Mariana Trench, as a matter of fact.”
She raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Matter of fact, eh?”
Her heart felt like it beat double-time at Mac’s charming grin, flashing like the Cheshire Cat’s as it was lit periodically by the streetlights they passed. Lana Fitzhugh, you of all people know better than to get your head turned by a handsome, charming man, she scolded herself. He’d shown himself to be overbearing, jealous and possessive when he’d fired one of the caterers on the spot earlier in the evening without even consulting her. But you didn’t disagree with his decision, the annoyingly honest voice in the back of her head forced her to acknowledge. The caterer had actually been making her uncomfortable, but it had been her problem to deal with, not Mac’s.
“Would I lie to such a stunning creature? You wound me, ma’am, straight to the core.” He pretended to be hit by a bolt to the heart, and she couldn’t help the burble of laughter that she tried to stifle. He was just so ridiculous. He was smart, funny and seemed truly dedicated to helping other men and women who’d recently left the service. Several times over the past few weeks as she’d worked closely with him to plan that night’s fundraiser, she’d found herself liking him in spite of her better judgment.
The party had been an unqualified success for the worthy veteran’s charity that Mac and Fitz, her second-oldest brother, had become very involved with. Well, she mentally amended, it was practically perfect until Brock Templeton, Fitz’s fiancée’s ex-boyfriend, made a scene, insulted Clara and drunkenly confessed to trying to cause her to ‘accidentally’ lose their baby. Brock had clammed up when they’d gotten to the police station, but, thank goodness, Mac had already recorded everything on his phone.
“I know that Fitz and Clara will really appreciate your getting the police to agree to take their statements tomorrow. They don’t like to leave baby Hope for too long,” she answered, sobered by the recollection of the night’s events.
“I’m certain they’ve checked in on Miss Hope, but I do believe they may be doing some, uh, private celebrating of their engagement, too—or, at least, on behalf of lonely single dudes everywhere, I hope they are. It’s not every day that a man gets the woman he loves to agree to marry him.” Mac’s voice was light, but there was something sad behind his tone, just below the surface.
“No…no, it’s not,” she agreed, snapping her mouth shut when she realized she sounded wistful. She had plenty to be grateful for, especially now that Fitz had returned to their lives, bringing the lovely Clara and Hope, shaking up the household and breaking their oldest brother, Drew, and Lana herself out of the cold, boring routines they’d fallen into. “Clara is just lovely—and Hope, too. I couldn’t be happier for them,” she enthused, perhaps a bit too heartily.
Mac quirked one side of his mouth up in a wry smile. “You’ve convinced me…but are you sure you’ve convinced yourself?”
His insight surprised her.
“I suppose you’re right…but please don’t think it’s about Clara, because she really is wonderful. I truly am happy for them.” She paused, forcing herself to be truthful. “Maybe a little envious, too. A long time ago—God, when I was so young and arrogant, self-assured to the point of naiveté and convinced of my own completely irresistible self—I made some really awful decisions.”
If he’d said anything, she probably wouldn’t have continued, but he remained silent, waiting.
“I ended up with a badly trampled heart—let’s call it pulverized instead of broken—and it cost me my best friend and years of my relationship with Fitz, too.” Suddenly uncomfortable with just how much she’d revealed, she gave a weak laugh. “I’m sorry I said that…burdened you with that. You didn’t ask for my life story.”
Mac touched his hand to her thigh for an instant before returning it to make a hard turn with the steering wheel. “Whatever happened, it sounds like you learned a lot from it, although I’m sorry it sounds like it caused you so much pain,” he replied in a low, earnest voice, so different from the light, teasing tones he usually used with her. “And, Lana, nothing you could ever tell me would be a burden,” he finished, clearing his throat. She wondered if he was equally uncomfortable with what she’d revealed.
Taking pity on him, she deliberately lightened the tone. “I bet you say that to all the young debutantes,” she answered. “Does it ever work?”
Mac’s laughter was a surprised bark. “Touché, Miss Fitzhugh. It might shock you to learn that I have, indeed, known my fair share of debutantes, including my two sisters.”
“Now, that is unexpected,” she agreed, although now that she pictured it, she could definitely see Mac all dressed up in a gray afternoon suit, flirting shamelessly and fetching lemonade for some pretty young thing. “Does that mean you can dance? You never asked me once tonight.”
They stopped at a signal so that his face was half in the light and half out, but the expression on the half she could see was distant. The silence between them became thick and uncomfortable. Lana knew she must have mis-stepped, but she wasn’t certain how.
“I don’t think I can dance anymore—or at least not like I used to,” he answered at last, his voice gruff. “I lost my right leg below the knee about eighteen months ago now.”
Lana sucked in a sharp breath. She’d known Mac and Fitz had met in a military hospital, and she’d noticed that Mac walked with a limp, but she’d never wanted to pry, figuring that Mac would tell her about his injury if he wanted her to know. She’d never imagined he’d lost part of his leg entirely.
“Horrified? Tempted to feel sorry for me?” Mac sounded defensive. “I’ve had to deal with just about every type of reaction.”
She touched his shoulder gently. “Nope, just surprised, since I didn’t know,” she answered quietly. “I can’t even begin to understand how difficult recovering from an injury like that would be, and I admire your charity work even more now.”
The enclosed space of the small front seat of the car felt suddenly intimate, especially so late at night, as if the two of them might be the only people awake in the city—or maybe in the world.
They pulled onto the long driveway—well, really a small, private lane—that led to the main house of her family’s compound—Fitzhugh’s Folly, as it was widely known, given how outrageously expensive and ostentatious it had been when her grandfather, Pat, had built it.
Tonight, it looked cavernous and dark…forlorn. Or maybe that’s just me, Lana thought, but recognizing the source of her melancholy didn’t make her feel better. Her oldest brother, Drew, had opted to stay at his high-rise apartment downtown to save time before his morning meeting. Her grandfather and Roger, who was ostensibly their butler but really a member of the family, along with being her grandfather’s long-time companion and probably his closest friend, had gone to bed early, so the lights had likely been out in their wing since ten o’clock or so.
Fitz and Clara were staying in the large separate guest house—which was actually the original house on the property—so Lana would be alone in the north wing of the main house. She should have been comfortable with it—in fact, she was very used to it, since at least three or four nights a week she had the mansion practically to herself, with its multitude of bedrooms, sitting rooms and other various spaces for practically every conceivable purpose. She often relished the solitude, after needing to be ‘on’ for so much of her charity work, which was no easy feat for a natural introvert who would have been happy just reading and drinking tea. Tonight, though, she felt a pang of loneliness.
Before she knew it, they’d pulled up to her front doors. They were tall, made from a thick, dark wood, and the whole impressive entryway looked forbidding, shrouded in darkness.
“They don’t leave the front lights on for you?” Mac asked, breaking the silence and some of the tension.
Lana wished they did, but they weren’t that kind of family. “I often get home late, and my grandfather is surprisingly frugal, so…” She shrugged, looking away. “I’m accustomed to it.” She could feel Mac’s gaze, but she refused to turn toward him. “I go in the side door, anyway.”
Before she could tell him not to, Mac had gotten out of the car and come around to open her door, offering her his arm. He still looked impossibly handsome in the fading moonlight. It was so cold at the tail end of mid-November that his breath puffed out of his mouth in white clouds, but he looked unruffled in his pristine dress uniform.
“Let me walk you there?” he asked. When she hesitated, with one leg on the ground and one still in the car, he spoke again. “So I’m certain you’re safe.”
With a swift bolt of comprehension, Lana realized he must be doing this—ensuring her safety—for Fitz, as a favor to her brother, which made total sense. They hadn’t totally repaired their relationship as brother and sister, since that would take a long time, but they’d made some good headway, and Fitz had always been protective of her when they had been younger. So why do I feel so disappointed? she wondered.
“Since you insist,” she agreed, unable to keep the snap of annoyance from her voice entirely. Still, holding onto Mac’s solid, warm arm, inhaling his distinctive scent, so smooth and comforting, like masculine soap and cinnamon and detergent, she wasn’t sorry not to be alone. No…it was more than that. She wasn’t sorry that Mac was the specific man she walked with.
Across the lawn, she saw a light come on in the guest house, which she recognized was in baby Hope’s room. Silhouetted on the shades, she saw a curvy woman’s figure rocking a child, and a larger outline as a man came up behind her, enveloping them in his shadow with a hug and leading them away from the window. The peace and serenity of the domestic scene, along with recollections of the love that she’d seen on their faces every time Fitz and Clara looked at each other and at tiny, perfect Hope, made her heart hurt, because she knew she would never have anything like it—and didn’t deserve it, anyway. Tears filled her eyes. As their steps slowed when they neared the side entrance to her area of the house, she kept her face averted from Mac so he wouldn’t see.
“I’m here safely, so you can report back to Fitz that you did your duty,” she answered, more coldly than she’d intended.
“Hey, now,” Mac answered, turning toward her in front of the side steps and urging her chin up with one strong but gentle finger so he could look at her face. “I never do anything I don’t want to do—not anymore, in any case—and I wanted to see you to your door safely for myself, so I wouldn’t worry.” He studied her, and she had the uncomfortable sensation that he saw much more than she’d wanted. “Are those tears, sugar?”
“No,” she denied in a thick voice, but her body immediately betrayed her as two droplets fell from her lashes and traced icy paths down her cheeks.
“Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry. Not quite sure what I did or said, but I never meant to make you cry,” he murmured in a deep, sincere voice, and Lana thought that she could have forgiven him just about anything, if there’d been something to forgive.
“It’s not you,” she answered. “It’s just that I feel so…alone sometimes, you know?” she admitted.
“God, yes,” he replied, with feeling. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close into his body, so tightly that something he had pinned to his uniform pressed into her cheek. In spite of the tiny prick of pain, she felt safer and warmer than she had for a long, long while. “You’re not alone now, Lana.”
She tipped her head back, and she wasn’t sure whether she pushed up toward him first or he lowered his head, but somehow he closed his mouth over hers, and it was sublime. At first, his lips were gentle—surprisingly soft for such a brave, tough ex-military pilot—but when she moaned, he deepened the kiss, and she savored his spicy taste, a little like the coffee they’d drunk at the police station, but mostly just his own unique flavor.
She pushed herself against him, feeling his hardness rise, thick and long, against her stomach, and he tangled his hands into her updo, dislodging bobby pins, which made tiny metallic pings as they landed on the steps. He caressed her tongue with his, claiming her mouth in bold strokes until her nipples tightened against his chest as she imagined how he would claim her with other parts of his body.
When he finally raised his mouth from hers, his breathing harsh and uneven, she noticed they must have walked together right up to the wall of the house, and her back was cold against the bricks. The rapid puffs of her breath mingled with the clouds of his, and he leaned his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry… I got a little carried away,” Mac said, and they still stood so close that she could feel the quick rise and fall of his chest against her breasts.
“No, no…I was just as into it, maybe more,” she said, then flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean…well, you know. I’m sure you could tell that I was enjoying it, but of course we shouldn’t have done that.”
Mac took a step back. “What do you mean?”
Lana bit her lip, feeling like she wished the ground would swallow her up. Where was some handy quicksand when you needed it?
“Well, like you said, I’m sorry, too.”
Mac shook his head. “No, darlin’, I’m not sorry it happened…only sorry we went so fast.”
When she looked up into his face—so handsome, perfectly formed with strong lines and eyes that she couldn’t make out clearly right now in the low light but that she knew were a startling deep green and probably blazing with emotion—she wished she dared to trust herself again with a good man, a kind man, a true friend like Mac. Being with someone like him wasn’t in the cards for her, though. That kind of man wanted more than she could give—more than she was capable of giving anymore.
She put her hand on his chest. “Mac, there can’t be anything more between us. I can’t be with someone like you.” She tried to be gentle, but she rushed her words as thick tears rose in her throat.
Mac took another step back, breaking all contact between them. “Someone like me, huh? Why did I think you were different?” His voice was hollow, resigned…but the tone was underlaid with hurt.
“That’s not—” she started to explain, but he cut her off.
“You know what, Lana? Don’t say anything you might regret. I’ll stay away from you, and you can stay away from me from now on, but no matter what, we’ll still have to see each other sometimes, and I don’t want it to be any worse than it has to be.”
Lana felt as if he’d slapped her, but she forgave him for lashing out. He didn’t understand, but explaining might make it more painful. As Fitz’s closest friend, he was bound to cross her path in the future at important events.
“If that’s what you want,” she agreed, her voice low and sad.
“Does it matter what I want?” Mac’s laugh was mirthless, and he started to turn away. “No, hold on. I’m gonna say one more thing first, because I vowed that if I ever started to feel for someone again, I would say the words out loud—not leave confusion or doubt.”
Lana braced herself for whatever he was going to say, but his words were more surprising for their tenderness than anything else.
“It sounds like we don’t feel the same way and maybe you won’t thank me for saying this, but no matter how you feel, I care about you. I was beginnin’ to think I might be able to care pretty deeply and that maybe you could, too.”
She winced at the raw tone of his voice.
“That doesn’t change overnight. Truth is, for a man like me, that doesn’t really change, period. So if you’re ever in trouble or hurting—no matter everything we said tonight—you can call me and I’ll be there. That’s it.”
His offer stunned her, and letting him turn around and walk away, back into the darkness that was beginning to streak gray with the first light of the coming dawn, was one of the worst things she’d ever forced herself to do. He’d be better off without her, though. She knew it, and he’d recognize it, too, in time.
She’d thought her sad, shredded heart was incapable of feeling anything anymore, but now she learned—too late—that she must have been mistaken. If it had truly been destroyed, it couldn’t hurt so darn bad now. She hurried inside the massive house, her steps echoing off the walls and floors of the empty rooms, and cried for everything that might have been.
Aurora is originally from the frozen tundra of the upper-Midwest (ok, not frozen all the time!) but now loves living in New England with her real-life hero/husband, two wonderfully silly sons, and one of the most extraordinary cats she has ever had the pleasure to meet. But she still goes back to the Midwest to visit, just never in January.
She doesn’t remember a time that she didn’t love to read, and has been writing stories since she learned how to hold a pencil. She has always liked the romantic scenes best in every book, story, and movie, so one day she decided to try her hand at writing her own romantic fiction, which changed her life in all the best ways.
You can find out more about Aurora at her website here.
Giveaway
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The right cut, the right style and a dash of love.
James Mason has everything he could ever want—his salon is the most famous in town, and he’s got his health and his best bud, his dog Doob. But he’s lonely. James has a knack for pairing everyone up, except himself. He’s been interested in Paul, the sweet man who helps at the salon, but will Paul be interested in him, too? Then there’s the elusive JP Henderson, the owner of the salon building. James has created an image in his mind that this man could be the one.
Jonathan Paul Henderson has lusted after James since the moment he met him. James acts unaffected by wealth and seems drawn to character. He’s adorable, funny and welcoming, too. He also doesn’t seem to mind that Paul wears makeup. Paul feels the connection and knows he wants this man, but will James still accept him after he finds out the truth—that Paul’s his landlord?
Two men, one truth and so much attraction they burn up the sheets. Is theirs a love for now or one meant to last?
Excerpt
“Looks like it’s you and me tonight, Doob.” James Mason petted the dog and settled on the floor with him. Dye Hard Style had closed for the evening and he’d locked the doors, but he wasn’t ready to head home—not yet. He’d rather give the dog attention and listen to the silence.
Christ, he was worn out. He spent most of his days packed with appointments for his styling services. Opening to closing, he had someone wanting his attention. He’d worked hard for his reputation for excellence in hair styling, but that didn’t help when he wanted a break.
Other than his job, he had little else to show for his work. He had no social life outside of the salon. No boyfriend and few actual friends. He didn’t even have the energy to try to pair himself with anyone, not like he did with the guys who came in wanting dates.
The one thing he did have was Doob, his black mutt with a heart of gold. From the moment Doob had shown up at the salon, he’d become James’ constant companion. He’d been more loyal than most everyone else in his life. His ex-boyfriends certainly weren’t loyal.
But he wanted a date. James supposed he could leave Doob at home and call a friend to go out, but he wasn’t in the mood for drama. He’d have plenty of drama tomorrow when he met with Jonathan Paul Henderson, the owner of the salon building and the Annex next door. He’d never actually seen Mr. Henderson. When Lester McCann had sold the building and the one next door, he hadn’t asked James his opinion—not that he’d had to—and never bothered to introduce James to the new owner.
But that was Lester. If he could get away with doing nothing, he’d do even less.
At least James didn’t have far to go in his commute home. Having his apartment in the Annex next door meant all he had to do was walk through the door joining the two buildings. Sometimes living next to the salon did have some perks.
He left the floor and checked he’d locked the front doors, then turned off the main lights. The security ones came on, bathing the space in dim yellow glow. Once satisfied, he patted his hip for Doob, then collected the cash from the register.
The dog had been a lumpy, furry godsend. Doob stuck by him when his depression hit and knew how to make him feel better. The dog was the sweetest thing, too. Whoever had been his family had been lucky to have him.
Part of James wondered why no one had ever claimed Doob. He’d put out what seemed like a thousand fliers, letting the public know he’d found the lost dog. Surely, Doob was missed. He had his name on a metal plate on his collar—wouldn’t a family or someone who cared about the dog do something like put his name on an engraved plate on the collar? If Doob had run away, then why hadn’t anyone come looking for him?
What if they hadn’t wanted Doob? The dog was a good boy and so loyal. How could someone not want him?
If they didn’t want him, James did. He checked that the rear doors to the former theater building were indeed locked and secured, then returned to the salon portion of the building.
He clicked the leash onto Doob’s collar. “It’s been almost a year. If you haven’t been claimed by now, then finders keepers. You’re officially my dog.” He’d already bought Doob’s tags and had him to the vet for his shots. Unfortunately there hadn’t been a microchip in Doob then, but there was now.
Doob circled around James’ legs, catching him up in the leash.
“You’ll trip and kill me, you know. If I’m dead, then you won’t get puppy food.” James slipped the memory card from the register into the cash bag, then zipped it shut. He tucked the bag under his arm and allowed Doob to lead him to the door out of the salon. He appreciated being able to go straight from the salon to his apartment building without having to go outside with a cash bag.
He carried the money to his third-floor apartment, then locked the bag in the safe in his bedroom. He’d worry about the numbers later. Right now, he needed to feed Doob. He unfastened the leash, then added kibble to Doob’s bowl. When the dog settled for his evening nap, that was when James would wrangle the numbers on the ledger.
Doob greedily munched on his dog food and James admired his gusto. Doob never seemed lonely. Just happy to be loved. James wanted to be loved by the dog, sure, but a boyfriend would be nice, too.
“We’ll find someone, Doob. Someone we both like and who will like us as a package deal. Think we can manage as a threesome?” Saying it like that sounded odd, but whatever. Doob was good as a companion, but James needed someone human to warm his bed.
Once Doob finished his dinner and got a drink, half of which he seemed to leave on the mat around his water bowl, James clicked the leash on him again. He and Doob left the apartment for their evening walk.
Doob seemed to love the four laps they usually took around Norville town square and James liked the exercise. Some days he and Doob ventured away from the center of town to the park by the school. Although James liked the excitement of the salon, right now, he wanted peace and quiet.
Doob walked proudly in front of him and sniffed at whatever he found. Once he and James encountered other dogs, Doob fell in line beside James, but seemed to pay no attention to the canines. James wondered if he should socialize the dog more. What if he and Doob were becoming too solitary for their own good?
James stopped to let Doob do his business. As he waited, he considered his life. He loved doing hair and making people beautiful. Helping someone find their inner glam made him happy. But he didn’t want to be single forever.
Maybe he could visit Club Jester. He’d helped enough other guys find true love there. Why not try for himself?
He cleaned up after Doob and tossed the baggie into the receptacle for dog waste, then sanitized his hands.
His thoughts turned back to clubbing. Who would he meet at Club Jester? The same old-same old most likely. Those guys were good, but they were either in a relationship or never going to settle down.
He spotted a jogger coming toward them and stepped off the path to give the athlete space. As soon as the man grew closer, James recognized him. Pauly. He’d chatted more than a few times with Pauly at the salon when the man stopped for haircuts or just to hang out. He liked Pauly, but never got the feeling Pauly wanted a boyfriend. He seemed like too much of a free spirit. He was a whiz with makeup and always managed to make himself handsomely beautiful. James wished he had the same skills with foundation and eyeshadow.
Pauly jogged up to him and stopped. He mopped his brow with his shirtsleeve and grinned. How could one man, jogging no less, look so on-point all the time? Even now, he had makeup on, without smearing it much, and a slight beard. Unreal, but gorgeous.
“Hi, you.” Pauly took a swig from a small water bottle he had wrapped around his hand. “How are you?”
“Hi, yourself. You look fantastic.” He held on to Doob’s leash. “I haven’t seen you at Dye Hard Style in forever. Have you been working out to make yourself chiseled and handsome without telling me?”
“That’s partly true. I’ve always jogged, but I’ve been out of town.” Pauly smiled. “I missed seeing you.”
“Likewise.” A tingle ran the length of his spine and James wondered if the glint in Pauly’s dark eyes was because of him. He stared at the man’s lips and wondered what he tasted like…and when did he get such kissable lips?
“Are you planning on going to the Jester tonight?” Pauly asked. “I hear it’s singles night.”
Singles night could be good, but it could also be awful. “Oh?”
“They brought in a new DJ and are having games to get the singles to mingle.” Pauly rolled his eyes. “If you want to go, want to go together? Then we don’t have to play the singles games.”
He hadn’t wanted to go, but he also hadn’t considered going with Pauly until now. “I should take Doob home and change, but I wasn’t planning on going out.”
“No big deal. I need to finish my jog and would have to shower,” Pauly said. “If you want, I can pick you up. It was my idea, so I can drive. You’re in the Annex, aren’t you?”
James blanched. He didn’t tend to tell people where he lived and only a few people referred to the building as the Annex. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t think you knew that.”
“Oh, I’d heard it.” Pauly blushed. “Sorry.”
He wanted to go out tonight and with Pauly, but something about the situation made him want to hold back. “Why don’t we exchange numbers and I’ll text you when I’m free. We can plan a date for another day.”
“I’d like that.” Pauly offered up his phone. “Do you have yours?”
He patted his thigh. Shit. He’d left his phone at home. “I don’t, but I’ll give you my number.” When Pauly handed him the device, he inputted his work number, then offered the phone back to him. “See you around at the salon?”
“Sure.” Pauly slid the phone back into his armband holder. “I’m sorry if I came off too pushy.”
“Don’t take it personally. I get kind of funny when I go out. I don’t do it often. I’m not a clubbing kind of guy.” He wasn’t any longer. He had been when he was younger, but now that he’d been around…clubbing had lost its luster.
“I get it. You’re more of a stay-home-and-chill kind of guy.” Pauly nodded. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Nope.” And maybe one day he’d go out with Pauly. Just not today. “See you?”
“I’ll be around the salon here and there. Maybe next week we could try going for coffee.” Pauly tapped his phone and an album cover filled the screen. “See you.”
James waved and headed with Doob back to his apartment. Maybe he should’ve gone with his instincts and gone out. He’d just inwardly complained he spent too much time alone and the chance to be with someone arose, but he’d chickened out. Or maybe he needed to know Pauly a bit better.
Oh well.
Once in the apartment building, he checked that his car was still safe in the warehouse space, then went upstairs.
He herded Doob to their apartment and unleashed him. “I spent too much time with just you, but you’ve never cheated on me.”
Doob sneezed, then trotted off to his dog bed.
“You can ignore me like a champ, though.” Silly dog.
James removed his makeup and showered, then dressed in a pair of sleep shorts. He made himself a snack of yogurt and granola before turning on the radio. Almost everyone he knew listened to playlists. They curated the hell out of those lists, making the selections of music perfect.
Not him. He loved dance radio and the oldies channel. Why not let the spontaneity of the channel come through? He liked not knowing what would be playing next.
He sat on the window seat and watched the evening traffic below while eating and listening to music.
Tomorrow, he’d meet with JP Henderson finally. He’d explain why Doob needed to stay and probably accept his fate when reminded of the no dogs rule. The rule wasn’t subject to change, the landlord would probably say.
James didn’t like the idea of starting a new salon at another location, but he loved Doob. If he had to leave the old theater, then he’d do it for his dog. He loved the publicity Doob brought, too. People recognized the dog, the salon and his unique style.
Maybe the infamous JP Henderson would be willing to work with him. He had to give it a shot if he wanted to keep Doob.
He’d never met JP Henderson and finally learned his last name three weeks ago. Would the man be amiable? Curt? All business or friendly? Would he be an older gentleman or a sexy younger one? Maybe a sexy silver fox. What if he wasn’t gay, though? What if he was? What if he wasn’t interested in James? James’ imagination kicked into overdrive. What if JP Henderson secretly wanted to have a wild, torrid affair with him and was looking for the right moment to make a move?
Nah.
Romances like that didn’t happen in Norville and they didn’t happen to him. He was a simple guy with simple tastes. Men of mystery didn’t fall for him.
He held on to his yogurt cup and let the Donna Summer song wash over him. Tonight, he had no cares. No worries, either.
Tomorrow was another matter, but first he’d enjoy tonight.
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.
