Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print (1st
Edition)
Blurb/Synopsis:
He doesn’t know that home is where his heart will be….
Firefighter Tyler Banik has seen his share of adventure
while working disaster relief with the Red Cross. But now that he’s adopted
Abey, he’s ready to leave the danger behind and put down roots. That means
returning to his hometown—where the last thing he anticipates is falling for
his high school nemesis.
Alan Pettaprin isn’t the boy he used to be.As a business owner and council member, he’s
working hard to improve life in Scottville for everyone. Nobody is more
surprised than Alan when Tyler returns, but he’s glad. For him, it’s a chance
to set things right. Little does he guess he and Tyler will find the missing
pieces of themselves in each other. Old rivalries are left in the ashes,
passion burns bright, and the possibility for a future together stretches in
front of them….
But not everyone in town is glad to see Tyler return….
Vincent Franklin’s last mistake had a body count. Now, he’s back on the fireline with something to prove to his fellow firefighters and most of all to himself. But when a sexy Irishman with talent and a camera captures him in a weak moment, he puts Vince’s heart at risk.
Still, there’s something about Aidan that attracts Vince and stirs up feelings he would have preferred to leave locked up and untouched in a dark corner of his heart. Then, after he, and the world, believe Aidan is killed in a tragic accident, Vince struggles to find the courage to love again. His chief worry: Does a screw-up like him even deserve to love again?
Christmas Eve, 2019
Vince was breathing hard. Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled downward, catching in his eyebrow as he groaned in pleasure and release.
“Holy shit, Mac,” he said as the twitching slowed, and he melted into the body under him. He nuzzled the ear of his partner and tenderly kissed the spot just below, where the neck melded into that beautiful head.
“Mmm,” his partner purred, hips moving languidly around his trapped member and drawing another gasp of pleasure before releasing him. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”
“Are you my night-before-Christmas present?” he asked. “Because I’m afraid that if I stir any creatures—even a mouse—I’ll find this sugarplum is a vision dancing in my head.” After the loss a year ago, and everything he’d been through since, this felt surreal.
Mac gave him a coy look—the one that tugged sexy-feel threads in his chest—then flipped over beneath him and wrapped arms around his neck, lacing fingers through Vince’s short, butterscotch hair. “Sugarplum, huh? Ah, you do know how to flatter the guy below you who is still slightly incoherent from recent…activities.” He pulled Vince down for a kiss, tongue snaking out to lick the sweat off his lips and making Vince groan a little at the image. He cocked his head, raised his eyebrows, and Vince could feel himself stirring again, hardening against the leg resting on him.
Vince looked down at him with wonder. “What did I do to deserve you? You’re so beautiful, and smart, and everything I’m not.”
“Don’t get it twisted, darling,” he drawled as he framed Vince’s face between his hands, “I’m the lucky guy who snagged the hot firefighter who defines straight-up sexy, pardon the hetero pun.” Mac softly placed his lips on Vince’s, starting at his forehead and working his way slowly, so agonizingly slowly, down.
In a flash of searing heat, Vince’s tenderness was replaced with hunger and need. Mac grinned wickedly at Vince’s growl of lust and flipped him over. He hovered above Vince, teasing, letting his breath fall on the sensitive places he’d found and wringing moans of frustration from the beautiful boy beneath him. When his tongue trailed over the bumps of Vince’s abs, the ticklish spot Mac found there caused him to squirm away. And when Mac’s lips engulfed his manhood, Vince lost the ability to form coherent thought.
Everything dissolved into a blur of touch and taste and pressure and pleasure and friction and feeling.
Jessi Noelle was born in South Mississippi, where she worked as a zookeeper and later as a firefighter. She is transgender with two sons, and currently lives in Nashville, TN.
Through the Inferno is her first novel. She is an alum of the inaugural #DVPit, a twitter event where marginalized authors pitch their books to agents. She is currently working on another book set in the The Inferno universe.
Lighting Fire Leslie North
Publication date: August 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Sookie Logan is interested in one thing and Chase Kingston is not it. A fiercely independent helicopter pilot for the National Guard, Sookie is back in her hometown to fly her copter and help fight a fire, not to hook up with some junior firefighter from Alaska. Especially when this particular firefighter works for her brother, the one person in the world who’s let her down the most. The hunk in yellow & tan is off limits.
But when a date intended to just make her brother’s blood boil turns into much more, Sookie and Chase give in to their raging attraction. Both agree it’s a quick fling—something that will last only as long as it takes to knock down the flames threatening her town. Leaving Chase behind will be as easy as leaving her hometown was the first time. No attachments. No regrets.
Chase wasn’t looking for a hook-up and definitely not with his boss’s little sister. Besides, Chase isn’t about to fall for Sookie. Their “relationship” is all about the great sex, thank you very much—he’s been burned in the past and there’s no chance of a repeat. No way. Not even if Sookie is starting to get under his skin and he can’t seem to get that little firecracker of his head.
Just when Chase is beginning to believe they may have something real, the demons he’s been fighting for years come back with a vengeance, making a future between the two as unpredictable as the fire they’re fighting. As the fire rages on, will Sookie and Chase douse their own flame? Or realize they’re meant to face any inferno together?
Leslie will be donating 5% of book sales in the first week to a Wildfire Fighting charity called Wildland Firefighter Foundation!
—
EXCERPT:
Chase groaned as he sagged down into his usual chair in the station meeting room. Garrett Wyld, his usual meeting neighbor, reached over to elbow him in the ribs.
“Easy, Wyld!” Chase swapped his mug of coffee to the other hand to keep from spilling any more. Even the shitty station coffee was a precious commodity on a chilly Alaska morning like this.
Garrett just chuckled and shook his head. “Something tells me I’m not the uneasy one. Why the long sigh, Kingston? You get lucky last night?”
Nearby squad members turned their heads, suddenly interested in the exchange. Chase took a sip of his coffee to avoid answering outright. It was a calculated risk, and he lost out—the brew was still hot as hell, even hotter than the blaze at the squad’s last house call. He avoided an outward grimace and paid the price as the fluid scalded his tongue and seared his throat.
“Maybe,” he said enigmatically. At least his poor abused tongue could still deliver the proper air of mystery . . . despite the cloak of mystery getting whisked aside in the next moment.
“You fucking dog.” One of the senior squad members punched his other shoulder, and when Chase switched his coffee from hand to hand this time, he was grinning.
“Ah, to be young!” another lamented.
Chase just shook his head. He had aged out of bragging about his conquests, but he wasn’t above receiving the heaped congratulations his reputation still earned him. He just wished he could remember the name of the gal he’d taken home last night . . . not that it made the least bit of difference. She had shipped in on a cruise liner out of Seattle and had already moved on to the next town by now. It had been fun, plain and simple, and that was how he preferred it. He’d show another sexy tourist the sights—and help her keep her bed warm—before the week was out.
The door blew open, and every head turned from Chase as the fire chief entered. Chase may have been the life of the party, but even he knew he was no match for the big boss himself.
“Listen up.” Hank Logan crossed to the desk at the front of the room and tossed his clipboard down. He leaned back against the table and crossed his burly arms. Chase leaned forward despite himself. He had never seen Hank’s clipboard get the table treatment so early in a meeting. His chief wasn’t even looking to it as a reference now. He was looking straight into the faces of his men.
Something was up.
“New assignment,” Hank told them. “I’m taking a volunteer contingent down to California. Cedar Springs, to be exact. She’s a small town that’s used to the wildfires this time of year passing her by. This latest fire reared up over the past few days.” Hank nodded as if to himself. “Still fairly tame, so it’s a control job to help the local squads keep it from spreading anywhere populated. Low risk, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be dangerous.” Hank surveyed the crew’s faces once more. Chase suppressed the urge to look at Garrett. “A call for supplementary support passed across my desk this morning,” Hank continued, “and I agreed to it. I want to take some men with me down south. Like I said, it’s all voluntary.”
“I’m in,” Chase blurted. No one seemed surprised that he was the first.
“Could be weeks,” Hank noted. “Maybe even months. Think the pretty tourists who disembark down at the port can spare you?”
Chase rocked back in his chair and flipped up the bill of his cap with a grin. “They’re going to have to.”
“If Kingston’s going, then so am I,” Garrett volunteered. “Can’t let you boys have all the fun!”
Hank nodded. “Anyone else?”
The shouted affirmations came quickly after that. As Hank’s offer sank in, every member of the squad suddenly realized that he or she could use a little extra Vitamin D. Once the contingent had filled out, they were dismissed. Chase rose, still grinning, and left at the head of the class. His pulse raced with equal parts caffeine and excitement for what his summer now had in store. Still, one question lingered in his mind.
“Cedar Springs,” he said aside to Garrett as they headed for the locker room. “Why does the name sound familiar?”
“I was wondering that myself, and then I remembered,” Garrett said as he pulled open his locker. “Cedar Springs is Chief’s hometown.”
“How the hell do you know a thing like that?” Hank almost never talked about himself. He left the airing of intimate anecdotes to . . . well, to people like Chase.
Garrett shrugged. “He mentioned it once to me when we went out for a drink.”
“Bet you he has a childhood sweetheart stashed away down there,” Chase said.
Garrett snorted his disbelief. “I’ll take that bet.” They shook on it, then locked eyes. Chase could see his own excitement mirrored in Garrett’s expression. Screw dangerous, this latest assignment was going to be more fun than a summer’s worth of Alaskan nights spent in the company of any one of those down-south Dorothys who hailed from the Emerald City.
Guess I’ll have to find a girl’s bed to warm down in Cali, Chase thought as he tossed back the rest of his coffee.
He was looking forward to it.
Author Bio:
Leslie North is the pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women’s contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.
The truth of the matter is she loves her fictional persona, Leslie North, more than her normal, day-to-day persona! Her bestselling books focus on strong characters and particularly women who aren’t afraid to challenge an alpha male. Inspired after years of travel, her stories are set all over the world, from the tough streets of Russia to the beautiful beaches of the middle east.
Leslie fell in love with romance when she first picked up a scrappy, dog-eared romance book from her local library. She began writing soon after and the rest, as they say, was history. She now lives in a cozy cottage on the British coast and enjoys taking long walks with her two Dalmatians, George and Fergie.
She LOVES reader feedback, and if you have any comments, don’t hesitate to contact her via e-mail: leslie@leslienorthbooks.com.
“You have to be exhausted after working until this morning and then dealing with my apartment this afternoon.” I nibbled my bottom lip. “What if I made dinner? I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m sure you haven’t either.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t we order some pizzas and watch TV for a while? We can sit on the couch and just relax for the rest of the night. Put on PJs and kick back.”
I arched a brow. “You own pajamas?”
“Well, I own pajama pants. Does that count?”
Holy Jesus, was he seriously going to run around without a shirt? Because I wasn’t sure my hormones could handle it. The hint of muscle I could see through his t-shirts was enough to make me drool. I didn’t think I could handle bare skin. Although, it would be a nice distraction from my problems, as long as I could keep my hands to myself. I wasn’t going to make any promises, though. A shirtless Zarek might be too much temptation.
He smirked, and I realized I was staring like an idiot.
“You just pictured me shirtless, didn’t you?” he asked with laughter flashing in his eyes.
My cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”
His grin widened a little, and he shook his head, clearly not believing me.
“If you tell me what you want on your pizza, I’ll place the order while you get comfortable.”
“I knew you were anxious to get me out of my clothes.”
My whole face felt like it was on fire. Before I could embarrass myself further, I bolted from the room and went to get a drink from the kitchen. I’d made a fresh pitcher of sweet tea last night and hadn’t touched it yet. By the time I’d poured myself a glass and returned to the living room, I could hear the shower going. I set my glass down and went to change into a tank and sleep shorts. They were old and comfortable, but they showed enough skin to be considered sexy. Do I want Zarek to see me as sexy?
I’d thought we would be roommates, co-workers, and nothing more. But the more I got to know Zarek, the harder it was to resist him. I’d felt that instant spark when we’d met at work on Monday, and I had to wonder what that spark would feel like if our lips touched. Would I feel the zing all the way to my toes? Just being near him was enough to make me tingle with awareness. I thought about him in the shower and wondered if he was as sexy dripping wet as I imagined him to be. I gave myself a mental slap, changed into my pajamas, and then returned to the living room. I couldn’t order the pizza yet since Zarek hadn’t told me what he wanted on his. I hadn’t paid close attention at work when the crew had ordered enough pizza to feed a small army.
I heard the shower shut off, and a few minute later, he wandered into the room.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I nearly choked on my own spit as he sank onto the sofa next to me. Holy hell, he was hot as fuck! His broad chest was well-muscled and his abs … I nearly fanned myself. As I whipped around to face the TV, before I got caught staring, I absently wiped at my chin to make sure I hadn’t been drooling.
With blood-stained hands and a guilty conscience, Raylyn Beechum sets off for parts unknown, on the run from a crime she had to commit in order to save herself. When her car breaks down in the parking lot of a fire station in a small town, her plan is simple: get the car fixed and hit the road as fast as possible. Then Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Yummy saunters over with his bare chest and uniform pants, water dripping off his pecs, and all Raylyn can think is hot damn!
Oliver Gonzalez has always had a hero complex, and a damsel in distress is right up his alley. All of his protective instincts come out when he sees the blood on Raylyn’s hands and the scared look in her eyes. He might not know her story, but he knows he wants to take care of her. Getting her to trust him is easier than he’d thought possible, but he wants more than trust for him to keep her safe. He wants her to trust him with her heart.
The hands gripping the steering wheel didn’t look like mine. The skin on the knuckles was bruised and broken. Dried blood was embedded in my cuticles. I’d washed my hands, but apparently not well enough. I’d burned the clothes I’d been wearing, along with the knife I’d used. Some might say that made me guilty, and maybe it did, but I’d learned long ago that the police were of no help. Not where I came from. No matter how many times the scene replayed in my mind, I couldn’t stifle the sobs welling in my throat. I’d taken a life, killed a man. No, not a man. A monster.
My heart crashed against my ribs, and my fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel. For years I’d suffered, but I’d had no idea just how far the madness went. If I’d had a clue as to what the man was capable of, I’d have acted sooner. Maybe so many lives wouldn’t have been lost, if I’d found my courage before now. The world should thank me, but I was certain if anyone knew what I’d done, the police would arrest me, and I’d spend the rest of my life in jail. Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
I blew out a breath and tried to redirect my thoughts. Puppies. Bunnies. Fields of flowers. Anything pleasant that could wash away the bad memories. I was starting over, creating a new life. Thanks to Miguel back home, I had everything I needed. I’d planned my escape weeks ago, but it just hadn’t happened quite the way I’d pictured. My new life was going to be fantastic and full of all the things I never had before. I was going to get a job, have a nice place to live, and I was going to get a boyfriend. Not necessarily in that order. I’d covered my tracks pretty well and felt I was safe, as long as I didn’t use my real name.
My car was almost out of gas as I entered a small North Carolina town a little after six in the morning. I’d been on the road for a few hours, and my best bet would be to keep driving until I couldn’t stay awake anymore. I crept through the quiet streets of a town that reminded me of Mayberry, and as I neared a fire station on the corner, my car began to shimmy and sputter. I’d barely pulled into the parking lot before my car coasted to a stop, the engine completely silent. I banged my hands on the steering wheel and uttered a slew of curses. The gas gage mocked me as the needle rested on E.
My gaze lifted and my jaw dropped a little. The fire truck was pulled part of the way out of the bay, and shirtless, sexy hunks were washing it. That was one sure way to make me forget my problems for a little while. One of them stopped to stare, removing his sunglasses and propping them on top of his head. His dusky skin glistened with sweat in the summer heat and I felt my cheeks flush.
Mr. Sexy made his way over to me and my heart raced for a new reason. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been around hot guys before. Just not this hot. He tapped on my window and I rolled it down. He bent and placed his folded arms on the windowsill. His blue gaze was warm as it scanned me. It was several minutes before he said anything.
“Want to pop your hood?” he asked.
“I ran out of gas. If you can tell me where the closest gas station is, I can go fill up a can and I’ll get out of your way.”
His lips twitched with amusement. “Sweetheart, this car isn’t going anywhere, even if you put gas in it. That wasn’t just an ‘I’m out of gas’ rattle. It was a death rattle.”
“Death rattle?”
His gaze focused on my hands and I wanted to hide them. I swallowed hard, wondering what kind of questions he would ask, or if he’d only call the police. My hands tightened on the wheel again and I wished I could throw the car into reverse and get the hell out of town. I didn’t need trouble, and this guy could turn my world upside down, and not in a good way.
“Why don’t you come inside and we’ll get those hands cleaned up a bit?”
“I don’t want any trouble.” I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Had I made my escape only to be turned in by a good Samaritan now?
He stood and opened the car door, reaching in to gently take my hand. I slid out of the car and tipped my head back to look up at him. He towered over me, making me feel small and helpless, which I hated. I was anything but helpless. He studied my hands before leading me into the fire station. One of the guys looked our way and Mr. Sexy motioned for him to follow us. Inside, I shivered at the air conditioning as he led me down a long hall to a large, open room with sofas and a kitchen area.
“Have a seat,” he said, pulling out a barstool.
I eased onto the stool, my feet dangling above the floor.
“My name’s Oliver Gonzalez, and this,” he said, motioning to the other guy, “is Jared Waylon. I’m a fireman and he’s a paramedic. Will you let him check out your hands?”
I nodded hesitantly.
Jared grasped my hands and studied them a moment before looking into my eyes. I could see the questions there, but I wasn’t saying a damn word. After a moment, he began cleaning my hands, which stung like a bitch. He even scrubbed around my nails until my hands were blood-free. He doctored my knuckles and bandaged the worst of it.
“I’m not going to ask how you got these, but if you’re in trouble, I wish you’d tell one of us.”
I trembled.
Mr. Sexy—no, Oliver—placed his hand on my shoulder. “Easy. No one here is going to hurt you. We want to help.”
“We’re going to call a tow for your car,” Jared said. “One of the firemen here has family who own a garage. They’ll give you a good deal. Then we can discuss your options for a place to stay.”
“I don’t have much money.” I hated admitting my lack of funds. “Maybe they’d let me do some work for the repairs and a place to stay?”
Oliver squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s get your car taken care of first. Anything you need out of it?”
“My purse and the bag in the backseat.”
“I’ll get them,” Jared offered. “I’ll have Kaycee call the garage and get a tow truck sent.”
“Kaycee?” I asked.
“Our admin,” Oliver said. “She’s also married to one of the guys on my team.”
“Why are you helping me?”
Kindness shone in Oliver’s eyes as he gazed into mine. “Because I think you need a friend right now. Maybe, when you feel like you can trust me, you’ll tell me about the blood on your hands and what the hell happened to you. Until then, just tell me one thing. Do we need to hide you from the police?”
Charity West is a young adult/new adult romance author who has always had her head in the clouds. She had her first crush when she was four, and it lasted for six years. Then she quickly fell head over heels for another boy, until she had to move away and leave him behind. Jumping from one boy to another, she finally found a keeper when she was twenty, and she’s been married to him ever since.
By the time Charity was twelve, she was sneaking her mother’s Harlequin romances and reading them in secret when she was supposed to be asleep. Teased throughout middle school and high school for the bodice ripper covers on the books she openly read in class, she knew that one day she wanted to write her own happily-ever-afters.
Title: On the Run Series: Flame Kissed #2
Author: Charity West
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Release Date: July 4th 2017
Genre(s): Contemporary, Suspense, New Adult
Heat Level: 2
I’ve wanted Liam Doherty for as long as I can remember, even when he was married. Maybe it was the Irish accent, or maybe it was just his ripped abs. But now he’s a sexy single dad in need of a babysitter. Is it wrong that when I hold that precious baby I imagine that she’s mine and we’re a family?
But what would an Irish hunk want with a college dropout?
Liam
My tongue nearly hit the floor when I opened my front door to the goddess on my porch. And now she’s babysitting for me, and all I can think about is how spectacular she’d look spread across my bed. Watching her with my daughter doesn’t douse my desire even a little. If anything, it just makes me want her more.
But there’s twenty years between us. Why would a sexy little thing like her want an old man like me?
Excerpt
Nearly two hours had passed by the time I had finished getting ready, so I rushed downstairs and out the door. I’d barely left my yard when I heard a baby crying. As I neared Mr. Doherty’s door, I heard his frantic shushing and cooing as he tried to calm his daughter. The doorbell chimed loudly, just making Caitlin even angrier and her screams increased. Mr. Doherty looked harried as he answered the door, his shirt was unbuttoned and he hadone sock on and one sock off. His hair stood in disarray, as if he’d been trying to pull it out.
And I’d never seen a sexier sight.
“Mr. Doherty, I’m Ashley Morgan, from next door. My mom said you needed a babysitter tonight.”
“Tonight. Tomorrow. Every day for the next eighteen years,” he muttered. “Come in.”
He stepped back and I followed him inside, trying to take everything in. I’d never been inside his home before and I was impressed. The baby doubled her efforts to be heard, her face turning bright red, and I reached for her. He hesitated only a moment before handing her over. Caitlin stared at me, her screams dying almost instantly as she hiccupped and tried to figure out who I was. Her hair was dark as pitch, just like her dad’s, and her eyes were a bright blue.
“Hi there, gorgeous girl.”
Caitlin cooed and waved a fist.
“You’re a miracle worker,” Mr. Doherty said. “Whatever you want, you can have it. I’ll sign over ever cent in my account if you can just keep her quiet. I think she’s cried nonstop for months. I’ve taken her to the doctor so often, convinced something is wrong with her, that they won’t even set an appointment until I’ve spoken with a nurse.”
“She’s probably just missing her mom.” My cheeks flushed as I glanced at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…my mom told me today that Mrs. Doherty wasn’t in the picture anymore. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
He snorted. “Good riddance to that harridan. Caitlin will be better off without that kind of influence in her life.”
Okay, so he was still bitter.
“Let me show you where everything is and then I’ll finish getting ready. I’ll try not to stay out too late. We have this banquet once a year and it can go for most of the night with drinking and dancing. I wouldn’t even attend, but I’m supposed to get some ridiculous award.” He shook his head. “Anyway, help yourself to anything you want. The kitchen is fully stocked if you’re hungry. I’m sure you’ve missed dinner at home.”
“I can stay as long you need me.” Forever sounded pretty good.
He nodded and gave me a tour of the house, pointing out Caitlin’s room and everything I would need for my babysitting duties. While he finished getting ready, I sank onto the padded rocker in her room. The back and forth motion helped keep her calm and she blinked up at me sleepily. She was probably the prettiest baby I’d ever seen. I wondered how heartless you had to be to leave something so precious behind.
When I was certain she was sleeping soundly, I laid her in her crib and tiptoed from the room, snagging the baby monitor on my way out. Mr. Doherty still hadn’t resurfaced, unless he’d snuck out while I was otherwise occupied. He’d said I could help myself to the kitchen so I headed that way. It was a chef’s dream come true with granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances, and a stove that I would have killed to have. I felt a little odd rummaging through his fridge and pantry. I found some chicken breasts, everything I would need for my favorite corn casserole, and a can of crescent rolls. I’d have preferred to make some rolls from scratch, but it would take too long.
As I chopped, seasoned, and prepped a dinner that would easily feed not only me, but give Mr. Doherty leftovers for a night or two, I started singing. It was something I always did when I cooked, no matter where I was. I’d always had a thing for country music, especially the songs that were popular when I was little, so the Dixie Chicks “You Were Mine” spilled from my lips. As I slid everything into the oven, I noticed Mr. Doherty leaning against the doorframe, watching me. There was something in his eyes that made me very aware that I was a woman alone in a house with a powerful man.
“I hope my singing didn’t bother you.”
He pushed off the doorframe and prowled closer. “You sing like an angel.”
My cheeks flushed. “I don’t know why, but I always sing when I cook.”
He was close enough that I felt the heat of his body pressing against me. There were fine lines on the corners of his eyes and a hint of silver at his temples, but it only made him look more distinguished. He leaned a little closer and then abruptly pulled away. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I wondered if he’d been about to kiss me. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? Despite the fact I was a grown woman, I’d never been with a man before, and had kissed only a handful of boys at college. What would it be like to have a man like him lay claim to me?
“I’ll try not to be late,” he said as he backed away further. “If you need to reach me, my cell number is on the fridge, as is the number to Caitlin’s doctor.”
“We’ll be fine.”
He nodded and walked off, leaving me shaking and wondering what the hell had just happened. I could still smell the spicy scent of his cologne and my lips tingled from the almost kiss. I’d never wanted anyone so much in my life. In that moment, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make him mine, even if it was just for one night.
About Paige Warren
Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha male cowboys and the women who love them. There’s nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers and a pair of well-worn boots. You have to admit, there’s something sexy about a man who knows how to use a rope!
A cat lover, she has more than one furbaby running around, keeping her company in the wee hours of the morning as she tries to find just the right way to say “His skin gleamed, the early morning rays caressing his sun bronzed flesh, as he studied her from beneath the brim of his Stetson.” Or, you know, something similar.
When Paige isn’t doling out tons of affection on the furbabies, or slurping down a pot of coffee (Yes! A whole pot!) so she can get in her daily word count, she enjoys reading and watching movies – romances, usually.
You can find Paige on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to sign-up for her newsletter to be notified of new releases!
Hi, and thank you for hosting my new dark romantic suspense!
Fiery 10-16 is a scorching firefighter story of desire, abuse, and bravery.
Runo Wiggins is a scarred man, the wounds etched into his psyche deeper than those on his skin. But he loves his job: fighting fires helps reenact his survival of a house fire as a teen, one that killed his mother and brutal stepfather.
Dawn Caravello is married to a psychotic drunk. She can take his beatings as long as he doesn’t touch their children, and she’ll do anything to put food on the table, even if it means stealing from the town hero.
When Runo meets the fiery Dawn, sparks fly. But he suspects she is victim of the same abuse as his mother was. As day turns to night, the past and the present blend in an exhausting, nerve-wrecking chase to prevent another death.
I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.
