Her Strong Force (Jordan Brothers) by Megan Slayer #Mafia #ContemporaryRomance @MeganSlayer

Her Strong Force (Jordan Brothers 8)

Heather McGraw doesn’t want to strip forever. She has plans for her life and stripping seems like the right choice to make enough money to pay off her debts. She’s not looking for love, but what if love finds her?

Mario Black can’t take his eyes off Heather. The young woman isn’t a natural on the stage, but she’s got a certain innocence and she captivates him. He wants her. When he’s given the chance to protect her while she moves from the stage to the Jordan family inner circle, he’s thrilled.

A demon from her past wants to ruin her future. Can Mario give her the protection, devotion and love she wants while protecting her heart?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Megan Slayer

“Positive. I want you to design other costumes for the girls. Your design is better than anything they’re coming up with, and if you’re the creator, then the outfits will be exclusive to this club,” Christy said. “I saw your sketches and suggestions. You’re good, and I want your exclusive stuff.”

“If they hate me for being new and pushy, then they won’t allow me to design for them. I’m the butt of jokes,” Heather said.

“I know, and I’ve got a plan. You don’t deserve to be the butt any longer.” Christy chuckled. “I’m assigning you a bodyguard and a better wage. You should be designing, not dancing.”

“A raise?” She sighed and shook her head. “Are you sure?” A job and a bodyguard? “Why do I need protecting? So the bodyguard can ward off insults?”

“Not exactly, but I like your style. I want him to keep the girls away so you can create, and when it’s time to dole out your costumes, then they won’t turn them down,” Christy said. “Plus, when the girls see what you can do, they’ll all want your attention. Promise.”

“They aren’t exactly my fans,” Heather said. “They’re more likely to kick my ass than like my costumes. They’ll be happy to see me go, and if they see I’ve gone with a bodyguard… it’ll get worse.”

Christy crinkled her nose. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Why don’t you take the night and think about it?” Christy patted the table. “While you’re thinking, I want you to meet Mario. I’m telling you, you’ll want him around. Tall, dark, handsome, muscles… he’s sin on legs.”

A man, the one Heather supposed was Mario, joined them in the box. He said nothing and folded his hands.

Heather fought the urge to squirm under Mario’s inspection. She wished she weren’t wearing a corset with her chest spilling out of the cups. She felt so revealed. He looked a bit familiar, but not much. Had he been working there the whole time?

Christy stood. “Mario, take Heather to the dressing room and help her collect her things. Once you’re done, take her to the house. Get her whatever art supplies she requires.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mario held his hand out to Heather. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” she said and allowed him to direct her through the club. “Sorry.”

Mario rested his hand at the small of her back. A couple of the dancers waited backstage. Heather swore she heard one of them say she was being escorted out. Embarrassment swept over Heather. The dancer wasn’t wrong.

“Ignore them,” Mario said. “They don’t know.”

She stopped at her makeup table. “They do.” She shoved her things into her bag, then cleaned out the drawers. Instead of dressing, she donned a long coat. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she swore she wouldn’t crack. No way. The girls had seen enough.

Mario helped her into the coat. As she bent into him, he murmured, “Play along.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she’d trust him. She wasn’t sure why she should, since she didn’t know him, but whatever. She’d have to trust him if he was going to guard her.

Mario tucked her to his side and carried her bag. “Got everything, babe?”

Babe? She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had to trust him. “One more thing.” She pulled her nametag off the mirror. The poor thing looked so barren and sad. “Yeah.”

Carla, one of the popular dancers, a tall, raven-haired beauty, sauntered up to Mario. “I haven’t seen you here in forever, baby.” She nudged Heather aside and embraced Mario. “Want a private dance?”

“I can’t.” He smiled, then disengaged from her. “I’m escorting my girlfriend out. I decided I don’t want to share her.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “Her?”

“Yes.” He threaded his arm around Heather. “Is that an issue?”

“Duh. You can do better,” Carla snapped. “I did you better. All she’s got are big boobs.”

Heather’s ears burned and her cheeks heated. She wanted to leave. “Mario?”

“Yes.” He sighed and smiled. “We need to get home. I’m tired and want to relax.” He nodded. “Good night, Carla. Heather?” He nudged her forward to the door.

Heather didn’t look back. She had to act confident. She tucked into Mario and basked in the sweetness of being held. She liked the way he smelled and the strength in his body. If nothing else, he gave the impression she was someone special. She hadn’t been that in a long time.

Mario directed her out to the parking garage to a black car. “Here we go.”

“You don’t have to take me home.” Heather pulled her car keys out. “I have my own ride.”

“I wasn’t aware,” Mario said. “Then let me drive.”

“Uh, no.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to do this. I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you let me drive? I’ll explain Christy’s decision and take you to the compound.” Mario widened his stance. “It’ll make more sense if we talk.”

“I have an apartment and my cat. I won’t relinquish them.” She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“You can’t.”

 

About Megan Slayer

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 white hot 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 nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

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. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Megan at Changeling Press | Megan’s Website | Facebook | Twitter

 

 

Book Blitz: Scars & Sins by Melanie Munton #contemporaryromance

Scars & Sins
Melanie Munton
(Brooklyn Brothers, #2)
Publication date: March 31st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

We are the Rossetti’s.

The exiled “sixth” family of the New York mafia. We’re the good guys.

People don’t fear us…much. They respect us.

The five of us? We’re the Brooklyn Brothers.

And we protect what’s ours.

You know when you have a little sister and she has that one friend that always follows you around like a puppy? For me, that was Roxanna “Roxy” D’Angelo. That was years ago, back when our fathers didn’t hate each other. Then they became enemies and she went off to boarding school in Connecticut.

Now, she’s back…and looking nothing like the shy girl I remember.

Cavorting with anyone from the five families is strictly forbidden to someone like me. So, I can’t figure out why I keep finding myself in situations with Roxy that could bring the force of the entire mafia syndicate down on our heads. Even if those situations are the wildest, most intoxicating experiences of my life.

But with the Sicilians in town and out for blood, times have never been more dangerous. If they find out about our relationship, they won’t hesitate to remove both of us from the equation so they can restore order.

We’re not Romeo and Juliet. They both died. And I refuse to let anything happen to Roxy. I have to protect her. From my family. From hers.

I hope she won’t hate me for what I have to do.

Because it might just kill her before any bullet can.

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EXCERPT:

Roxy

“How’s Gia?”

His eyes softened. “She’s good, other than being annoyed all the time. She’ll be a senior at NYU. Pre-law and she hates it.”

She and I had been best friends for our entire childhoods. Inseparable up until one disastrous night five years ago. That was why I’d been around Ace so much over the years. Any time she and I had hung out, I’d always begged to come over to her place. My house had never held much appeal because after all, Ace wasn’t in it. And knowing Gia as well as I did—or used to—she would have definitely hated going pre-law.

God, I missed her.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Um,”—I bit my lower lip— “can you tell her I said hi?”

His expression turned to that of an adoring older brother. “Of course.”

And that was why my crush had never gone further than a crush.

I was just another little sister to him.

Gia and I were the same age, three years younger than Ace. He had basically lumped me into the same category as her years ago: annoying younger sister. Trailing after him, hanging onto his every word, I had made a giant fool of myself. Even worse, I knew his four older brothers had teased him to no end about it. If Ace had ever been protective of me, it was always in an angry, brotherly way, not in a jealous, possessive type of way. Which was what I’d always secretly longed for.

Because I’d never—not once—thought of him as my older brother.

Not for one second.

“Maybe you guys could hang out sometime,” he added. “She’d love to see you.”

My heart ached.

There had been a gaping hole there ever since I lost her years ago to the rising tension between our families. Our fathers had once been good friends, then they had a falling out, and any connection between the D’Angelos and the Rossettis had been obliterated in an instant.

“I think you and I both know that’s not possible.” My voice was resigned. “Nothing has changed.”

To my astonishment, his eyes flared as they slowly raked down my body.

Okay, I’m definitely not imagining that heat.

Was he really looking at me like that? Like he did in my pathetic, hopeless dreams? But where was it coming from?

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rasped, his gaze once again landing on my mouth. “I’d say some things have definitely changed.”

Whaaaaaaaat actually is happening here?

His words knocked the air right out of my lungs.

The level of bafflement on my face was surely making me look like an idiot, but nothing could have been done about it.

He took a meaningful step toward me. “Have you been a bad girl, Roxy?”

I’d been staring at his mouth, the way the corner of it twitched with a hint of a grin, but my eyes flew up to his at those words.

Because they dripped with innuendo.

Since when did Ace speak to me with innuendo? Did he suddenly forget who he was talking to?

Embarrassingly, I felt my cheeks heat. He probably thought I was an inexperienced, naïve child at seeing how easily I could still blush.

But I was only one of those things, thank you very much.

My voice unintentionally came out as a whisper. “Excuse me?”

His eyes briefly flitted to the confessional booth. Then that grin came back. “What kind of sins does a girl like you need to confess?”

There was one thing about Ace that had always stood out for me above so many others.

That inquisitive expression of his I mentioned earlier was one that could swiftly turn very intense. Particularly when he was looking at a girl he was interested in. His eyes would go molten, his jaw would harden, his lips would tighten, and when his chin dipped almost imperceptibly lower, he really meant business. And by business, I meant he was turned on. It was like his signature look that he always gave pretty girls.

For years, I’d desperately hoped Ace would one day look at me like that.

That I would make his jaw clench, make his mouth firm. That I could cause the kind of visceral reaction in him that made his hands fist with the uncontrollable urge to grab me and haul me to him. I wanted his need to kiss me to light a fire in him so hot he’d do anything to relieve the burn.

I’d seen him look at so many other girls just like that, and it had broken my heart each and every time. I’d fallen asleep countless nights, praying that I would eventually be the recipient of his heated inspection.

And for the first time in my life…Ace was looking at me.

Just.

Like.

That.

 

Author Bio:

Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.

Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it’s boring to only stick to one sub-genre! From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.

Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

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Her Dangerous Crush by Megan Slayer #MafiaRomance #ContemporaryRomance @MeganSlayer

Her Dangerous Crush (Jordan Brothers 6)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Danil Jordan never wanted a second chance at love. He had the woman he loved in his arms — until she left him for another man. He embraced the bitterness and displeasure with his brothers because they had the things he wanted — love and passion. Can he change his ways and have the love he deserves? Or will her past tear them apart?

Maura Wylie has deep secrets and believes the only way to run from her problems is to work as a maid in the Jordan mansion. She’s lusted after Danil for years and sees the man behind the pain. Will she be enough for him? Or will her past be more than he can handle?

There’s a chance they can make the passion burn into something permanent. Will they take the chance or walk away before someone gets hurt?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

Maura Burke fixed her dress and strode across the room. She’d never intended on being a servant. Her family would die if they knew she’d been reduced to cleaning another family’s house, especially the Jordan family home.

Her brother had hated the Jordan family. But her brother was dead. Kurt Wylie had sworn the Jordans were the scum of Shaker. He didn’t know them, but he’d been pretty quick to jump into bed with Danil’s wife. She knew the family and saw the human side of them. They weren’t as bad as her brother had made them out to be.

She dusted the china propped on the mantle. Her brother would have hated knowing she’d lowered herself to working for a living, but she enjoyed her job. Truth be told, she thrived in the working environment. Plus, she liked the tight uniform and earning her way.

She liked watching the family, too. No one cared who she was — although she guessed Dash knew the truth. He knew everything. Still, they left her alone and didn’t say anything about her half-brother.

She continued to dust as Danil strode into the living room. “Hello,” she said. “Mr. Jordan.”

“Call me Danil.” He stopped in front of the window. “Am I interrupting you? I’m sorry. I stomped in here when you’re cleaning.”

“No, sir.” A thrill shot through her. The job was to be a maid for the family, but she longed to have Danil alone order her around in private, too. She loved the commanding tone of his voice and the passion in his eyes. His wife hadn’t deserved him.

“If I’m in the way, you can tell me to go.” Danil folded his arms and kept his back to her. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you for asking.” She held onto the duster with both hands. “How are you today?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Maura?”

“Sir?” He knew her name. She’d love for him to be her sir in so many ways. She resumed dusting, but memorized the sound of her name on his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question.”

“No.” He stepped up to the fireplace and tipped his head to meet her gaze. “I appreciate you asking.”

“Then I’m glad I did.” She smoothed her skirt. “How are you, sir?”

“Danil. Please, call me Danil.” A tiny smile curled on his lips.

“I will. How are you, Danil?” She swept her gaze over him. Strong, tall, lean… everything she liked in a man. His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. He could be tough and demanding, but also tender. Was he tattooed like Dash? She wanted to find out.

“I’m okay,” Danil said. “One day at a time, you know?”

“I do.” She kept distance between them, despite wanting to hug him. His sadness radiated from him.

“How long have you worked here?” Danil asked.

“A year.” Since his wife and her brother had passed away. She’d thought if she worked for them, she could keep an eye on Danil and maybe ease some of his pain — except he hadn’t paid her much attention until now.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.” She’d rather work for him, but she’d crushed on Danil since she was a little girl.

“You’re paid well, I assume?”

“I am. I have my own room in the servants’ quarters, too.” She preferred the simplicity of her life and the lack of expectations other than to do her job.

“Does my brother make you work all the time?”

“Four days a week.” Man, he was full of questions today.

“Are you working tonight?”

“In the laundry. It’s my late shift.” She fiddled with the handle of the duster. “I’m only there until eight.”

“Have dinner with me instead. Forget the laundry,” he said. “Have a night to unwind.”

Besides being a breach of worker-boss etiquette, he’d have a shit fit when he found out she was Wylie’s half-sister. He’d think she was a spy rather than a concerned person.

“Maura.”

She could lose everything if she agreed.

He nodded. “Understood. Forget I asked.” He turned his back on her. “I should’ve realized you’ve got a boyfriend.”

 

More from Megan Slayer at Changeling Press …

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 white hot 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 nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

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. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

 

Her Christmas Wedding by Megan Slayer #Mafia #Contemporary #Romance #holidayromance #holidaystory

Her Christmas Wedding (Jordan Brothers 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Jaxon Jordan has the woman of his dreams in Emily Wilson. She’s all he’s ever wanted, and they’ll be married on Christmas Eve. But dreams don’t always come true and sometimes are set off course. When a woman claiming to be Emily’s real mother comes on the scene and plants doubt in Emily’s mind, it’s up to Jax and the Jordan family to get to the truth.

 

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More from Megan Slayer at Changeling Press …

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

Megan can be found at https://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer.

 

 

Collateral Damage (Owned by the Mob) by Paige Warren and Harley Wylde @AuthorPaigeW @HarleyW_Writer #mafia #romance #darkromance

Collateral Damage (Owned by the Mob 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Cerys: Blind since birth, I’ve learned the hard way I can’t rely on my father. When he gets in too deep with the wrong sort of people, I find myself the property of Viktor. I’ve heard whispers of the mob and what they’re capable of and know I should be terrified, but it doesn’t take much for me to fall for Viktor. I see a side of him he seems to show only to me. His kisses make my knees weak, and just one touch makes me dream of forever. He makes me feel… special. Precious. Important. But what would a man like him want with collateral damage? He can have any woman he wants, and probably has. I don’t see a happily-ever-after in our future, no matter how much I might want one.

Viktor: Death and destruction cling to me, blood and violence just a way of life. I didn’t climb my way toward the top of the Bratva by being a saint. I may be gruff and dangerous, take what I want when I want, but when it comes to Cerys, I find that I can’t be harsh with her. She’s gentle. Sweet. An angel. My myshka. She’s the light to my darkness. Now that I have her, I know that I can’t let her go. I’ll make her mine in every way possible. Only one problem. Artur Orlov. He wants me to marry his daughter, but I won’t. I didn’t count on him retaliating by taking my myshka from me. I’ll get her back, and if she’s been harmed in any way, I won’t stop until every last man responsible has breathed their last.

WARNING: This story contains adult content, including language and violence that some may find objectionable.

 

Available TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order at retailers for November 29th

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde & Paige Warren

Cerys

I could hear my heart thundering in my ears as I strained to listen to my father’s conversation. The men had forced their way into our home, and I’d heard the crash of furniture. At first, I’d been terrified because I’d thought we were being robbed. Now I knew different. I’d known my father was in trouble, but I didn’t realize how much. Money had been tight for a while, since Mom died several years ago. Things had been getting better, or so I’d thought. I never realized the reason we suddenly had money, or rather my father suddenly did, was because of some shady dealings he’d had with the wrong men. He’d claimed he’d been working, and I thought things were going well. Had he lied to me? Why did he always have to control me? Everything he did seemed to be designed for the express purpose of keeping me under his rule, and miserable.

“Please, Maksim. I just need more time,” my father begged.

I didn’t know a Maksim. The Russian accent of the men in our living room sent a shiver down my spine. In our neighborhood, the only Russians I knew were an elderly couple, or people who belonged to the mafia. I’d heard it called the Bratva, but it meant the same thing. The men sequestered with my father did horrible, evil things. Every last one of them had blood on their hands. I could only imagine what they’d ask of him, or the ultimatum they would give.

“You’ve had time,” said a deep voice I assumed belonged to Maksim.

“You don’t understand. I’ve moved as much product as I can, but I don’t have enough connections. I can get them! I just need… a month? Yes, give me another month.”

“Nyet.”

I heard the rustle of clothing and it sounded like something was being screwed onto something. I strained, needing to know what was happening. The door I hid behind was cracked open a bit, but it didn’t do my sightless eyes a bit of good. I’d relied on my other senses from birth, but sometimes it wasn’t enough.

“Nikolai, tie up the loose ends,” the man said.

No! I knew what that meant. I now understood the sound I’d heard. A silencer. At least, that’s what they were called in books and movies. They were going to shoot my father. Kill him. He might not be the best dad, but he was all I had. What would happen to me if he were gone? I shoved the door open and stumbled into the room.

“Don’t!” I fell to my knees and pushed myself up, but I’d lost my bearings and as I stood, I stretched my arms out, feeling for any furniture or people. I didn’t know how the room had changed after they’d barged in and started throwing things around. “Please. Don’t kill him.”

“And who is this?” Maksim asked.

“My daughter. Cerys. Don’t hurt her. She’s blind and can’t recognize any of you. I beg of you. Let her go,” my father said.

Now he was going to act like a loving parent? Maybe we should have invited these men over sooner. Not that they’d received an invitation now.

A hand grasped mine, rough and large. I was pulled against a firm chest and a tantalizing scent teased my nose. I couldn’t help but lean in a little closer. It was stupid, and maybe the stress of the situation was skewing my logic, but I used my hands to explore the body holding me, inching up toward the man’s face. My fingers scraped across a close-cropped beard and up to a strong nose. I didn’t feel wrinkles, only firm smooth skin. I couldn’t guess his age, other than he was likely under forty and over twenty.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The man gently grasped my hand and pulled it away from his face. I felt an odd sense of loss. Again, I wasn’t reacting like a normal person. Not that I’d ever been considered normal, but this was out of the ordinary even for me.

“Viktor, you seem intrigued by the young woman,” Maksim said. “Perhaps we can make a deal, Mr. Humes? Your daughter in exchange for the debt you owe.”

“What!” I heard my father struggling. “No! You can’t do this! Cerys is blind. Please, don’t hurt her.”

I wanted to snort and roll my eyes. The man had never given a damn whether or not I was hurt. He’d actually enjoyed moving pieces of furniture on occasion just to watch me trip over them. Then the bastard would laugh. I’d had to learn how to fend for myself after my mother died. If it weren’t for the elderly couple down the street, I’d have never gotten as far in school as I did. After my mother died, Mrs. Popov had ensured that I continued with my education. I’d been a few months from graduating, when my father pulled me from school completely. Somehow, he’d gotten forms signed saying I was dropping out of the homeschool program, and out of school all together. He’d heard me tell Mrs. Popov about my excitement over graduation, and had decided to ruin it like everything else in my life.

The fact he was acting like a loving, concerned parent, made me wonder exactly what he was up to because I knew he’d never loved me. Not since he’d discovered I was blind. He wanted them to think I was important to him, and in a way, I was. Without me, the house would be completely trashed and he’d probably starve to death. The man would certainly never go fetch his own beer, that was for damn sure.

“Who said anything about hurting her?” Maksim said. “I doubt very much that Viktor plans to cause her any harm. In fact, he’ll likely have her screaming in pleasure.”

The men chuckled and the breath froze in my lungs. He couldn’t mean what I thought he did. The man holding me tightened his grip around my waist and I felt the evidence of his arousal. My cheeks warmed and I stared at what I assumed was his chest. I’d never been with a man, never been kissed. Truthfully, I’d thought I would die a virgin, alone.

“She’s barely eighteen!” I heard my father struggling again, and assumed they were holding him back.

I knew the only reason he was trying to talk them out of it was due to the fact he’d lose his servant. Me. Even though I couldn’t see, I’d learned how to keep our home clean, and I managed to cook microwave meals. Each box was marked in a way that I knew what it was, and my father had me memorize the heat settings and cook time for each one. The lazy bastard couldn’t even be bothered to pop a frozen lasagna in the microwave.

“Barely?” Maksim asked.

“Yes. She just turned eighteen two days ago. She’s a child, Maksim!”

I felt someone run their hands down the length of my hair, then squeeze my ass. From the direction, I knew it wasn’t Viktor. I squeaked and pressed closer to the man holding me. Someone laughed before harshly grabbing my breast. I whimpered and my hands fisted on the material of Viktor’s shirt.

“Enough, Feliks.” I could feel the rumble under my fingers and knew Viktor had spoken. His voice was deep and rich with a hint of roughness. “Touch her again and I’ll remove your hands.”

“You’ll tire of her. Then I’ll have a turn. We all will.” The man laughed. I assumed it was Feliks and a shiver raked my spine. Was that my fate if I went with them? To be their whore?

“You can’t do this,” my father said. “Surely, you can’t condone this, Maksim. You have daughters. What if someone took one of them?”

“I always pay my debts,” Maksim said. “And no one would dare come for my family, unless they wanted to die. I’m sorry, Mr. Humes, but my terms are simple. Either you give your daughter to Viktor, or I’m afraid we’ll have to use you as an example to others who owe us.”

Someone laughed. “And then we’ll take your daughter anyway.”

Viktor’s arm tightened around me again until I worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I felt his body shift, then his lips brushed my ear.

“Do not fear, myshka.”

 

Praise for Collateral Damage (Owned By the Mob 1)

“Whoa, this one was intense! Cerys is blind but she isn’t weak. I am a total sucker for disabled heroes or heroines in books so I snapped this one right up. I loved that she did speak up, feeling she didn’t have much to lose. [Victor] defends her, caring for her in his way. I couldn’t put this one down… Can’t wait for more mob stories from the amazing Harley Wylde!”

— 5 Stars from Leslee’s Reviews, Goodreads

 

More from Paige Warren at Changeling Press …

Paige Warren is a contemporary romance author who believes in happily-ever-after for everyone. Sexy, steamy stories about mobsters, cowboys, inked bad boys, and interracial couples… sometimes with a bit of kink. If you like alpha heroes and strong heroines, then you’re in the right place! No matter the odds, in a Paige Warren book, true love conquers all. Watch for Paige’s new MC Romance series Reckless Kings MC with International Bestselling Author Harley Wylde.

When her husband, children, and furbabies aren’t demanding her attention, she’s typically either writing or reading. Paige enjoys reading a variety of genres from young adult books, to general fiction, and of course, romances! But when it comes to movies, she’s a big-time horror fan — especially the ‘80s slasher flicks. That being said, ghostly movies are her favorite regardless of when they were made, like Rose Red or The Amityville Horror.

Author Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / BookBub / Amazon Author Page

 

More from Harley Wylde at Changeling Press …

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harleys 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 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s 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!

You can also find Harley on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/harley-wylde

Find Harley Online:   Blog /  Facebook  /  Twitter  /  Instagram / Website

Cover Reveal: Collateral Damage (Owned by the Mob) by Paige Warren and Harley Wylde #mafia #MafiaRomance #RomanceBooks #badboys @AuthorPaigeW @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Cerys: Blind since birth, I’ve learned the hard way I can’t rely on my father. When he gets in too deep with the wrong sort of people, I find myself the property of Viktor. I’ve heard whispers of the mob and what they’re capable of and know I should be terrified, but it doesn’t take much for me to fall for Viktor. I see a side of him he seems to show only to me. His kisses make my knees weak, and just one touch makes me dream of forever. He makes me feel… special. Precious. Important. But what would a man like him want with collateral damage? He can have any woman he wants, and probably has. I don’t see a happily-ever-after in our future, no matter how much I might want one.

Viktor: Death and destruction cling to me, blood and violence just a way of life. I didn’t climb my way toward the top of the Bratva by being a saint. I may be gruff and dangerous, take what I want when I want, but when it comes to Cerys, I find that I can’t be harsh with her. She’s gentle. Sweet. An angel. My myshka. She’s the light to my darkness. Now that I have her, I know that I can’t let her go. I’ll make her mine in every way possible. Only one problem. Artur Orlov. He wants me to marry his daughter, but I won’t. I didn’t count on him retaliating by taking my myshka from me. I’ll get her back, and if she’s been harmed in any way, I won’t stop until every last man responsible has breathed their last.

WARNING: This story contains adult content, including language and violence that some may find objectionable.

 

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Her Sexy Rescuer by Megan Slayer #Mafia #ActionAdventure #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Her Sexy Rescuer (Jordan Brothers 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Vonn Jordan wants to wander. Why stay in one place when there’s a whole world to explore? A night clubbing lands him right in the middle of a deal to conduct human trafficking. His family doesn’t buy and sell humans, even beautiful ones. He’ll bust this ring wide open.

Then he sees her. Ripley. She’s sweet, soulful and alone. Can the man hellbent on drifting accept his wandering days are over? Or will she break his heart?

Publisher’s Warning: References to organized crime, abduction and sex trafficking that may be triggers for some readers.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 20th at retailers

   

 

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

Vonn stared out at the throng of dancers and sighed. The ice in his drink had melted. Christ, he was bored. A man only turned twenty-one once, and he refused to spend this token year in college. He also refused to spend it alone. Let his brother Jax do the college thing. He had other ideas. He’d party now and work later.

A blonde passed by and winked. She might be good for the evening, but she wasn’t his type.

“Vonn Jordan, just the asshole I wanted to see.” Larry Slater strode up to him. “I hear your family has a new venture.”

“We have lots of ventures,” Vonn said. Jesus. It wasn’t his job to keep up on what the family did and when. “Why?”

“I never would’ve thought your family would’ve gotten in on human trafficking.” Larry crooked his brow. “Is that right?”

What? Yes, the Jordans played fast and loose with the law. Yes, they tended to shoot and pay their way out of trouble. But human trafficking? He knew Dash better than that. Ever since Dash rescued his now-wife, Christy, from being pimped at the club, Dash made it his point to rescue others. He wouldn’t get into human trafficking.

“Well?”

“Where did you get this info?” He doubted it was from his brother.

“Channels,” Larry snapped.

“And what details are these channels giving you?” Vonn asked.

“Jesus. Stuff. Girls,” Larry said. “You’re buying and selling them to the highest bidder. Bondage shit, sexy toys, that sort of bullshit. Whatever the buyer wants to do with them.”

“I see.” What a nice answer. What a jackass. He had to talk to Dash. If his brother was involved in this — which he doubted — then they needed to stop. If they weren’t involved, then Dash needed to know the family name was being used. He’d also want to step in and stop the operation. He’d shut them the fuck down. No one deserved to be sold for anything.

“Well? I want in,” Larry said. “Girls can bring top dollar.”

Asshat. “I need to confer with the family. We’re rather picky about who we involve.”

“Tell your brother I would love to be involved. I’m in need of new, lucrative ventures.” Larry grinned, and his eyes narrowed. “Besides, you owe me.”

“I do?” He didn’t remember owing Larry anything.

“Yeah, you do. I got your ass into this club,” Larry said. “Without me, you’d be nothing on the social scene.”

He disagreed, but whatever. “I have to speak with my brother. I don’t run the family enterprises.” He never did and never wanted to. Dash would end up in a premature grave like their father if he wasn’t careful. He trusted his brother wasn’t doing something so shitty as human trafficking. It wasn’t possible.

“I expect to hear something.” Larry pointed at him. “I know where you live.”

So does everyone else. The Jordan family compound was practically a landmark in Shaker. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m watching.”

I’m sure. He nodded, then abandoned his drink on a nearby table. One of his two bodyguards followed him to the private overlook within the club. He could see everything and not be seen. He whipped out his phone. He needed to speak to Dash.

“Yes?” Dash asked when he answered the call. “You’ve been MIA. Care to tell me where you are?”

“In deep shit,” Vonn said. “I know where I am. I’m in Florida.”

“Funny. That’s a long way from Ohio State.”

“Whatever,” Vonn said. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“You’ll get one. I’ve got your credit card statement. If you run up one more bar tab, I’ll come to Florida and kick your ass.”

“I know. I went overboard. Jesus, Dash. This is important.” He leaned against the wall and lowered his voice. “Are you involved in human trafficking?”

“What the hell? No,” Dash said. “Christ.”

“You’re sure?”

“We concocted a bullshit story about selling girls to get Clint and Ronan’s girl free from a strip club. But I wouldn’t touch real trafficking. Christ. That’s barbaric,” Dash said.

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Your name is being used in connection with a trafficking ring. Larry Slater wants in,” Vonn said.

“If I were — which I’m not — the last person I’d involve would be Larry,” Dash said. “The pissant.”

“He wants details.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“Gladly,” Vonn said. “I’m going to the police. We can’t get mixed up in this.”

“Yeah. I’m not wild about the involvement of the law, but we’re clean,” Dash said. “Take your men and investigate. Try to catch wind of who is using our name, then I’ll destroy him.”

“Will do.” Right away.

“Oh, and tell Larry he’s in. Then let the cops have him.”

“Will do that, too.” He laughed. “Thanks. Bye, Dash.”

“Come home. Ma misses you, and you have an entire family to meet.”

“Later.” But he would. He missed the craziness of the Jordan family. His brothers were settling down, and he’d fucked around. Did the girls have families? Did they miss them? Were the girls being treated well? He’d bet they wanted to go home. “I’m worried these girls are being abused.”

“Most likely they are. I’ve got Jon and Kurtis on the way now. Get information and keep me in the loop. I’ve alerted the police and FBI. This isn’t going to go without anyone’s notice,” Dash said. “We’ll get ‘em.”

 

More from Megan at Changeling Press …

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

 

Brewer’s Mark (Devil’s Outlaws MC) by Lynn Burke #ActionAdventure #MCromance #bikerbooks #MafiaRomance @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Brewer's Mark (Devil's Outlaws MC 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Reagan “Brewer” de Jager might look soft as a teddy bear, but his stint as a sniper in the SEALs hardened him into a lethal killer. The fact that his wife cheated on him while he was deployed makes him unable to trust. Cold hearted and empty, he sets his sights on his next mark — until one look into her eyes slays him.

Ex-CIA agent Nova Smego wasn’t nicknamed Black Widow by her superiors without reason. Underestimated for her petite form, she’s quick with her fists and lethal with a blade or a bullet. She joins a hitmen-for-hire team in the hopes of exacting revenge on the one who ruined her career. When the Outlaws eliminate her team to rescue one of their own, Nova is kept alive — and tied to her captor.

There’s a reason Brewer couldn’t end her, and while she plans her escape, she fears losing her heart to the chemistry sizzling between them. The Outlaws issue Brewer an ultimatum: pull the trigger, or find common ground to trust one another and avoid the Outlaws’ demand for her life.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

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or pre-order for August 16th at:

   

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lynn Burke

Nova

My heart pounded in my ears, but the heightened sound of gunshots from downstairs broke through the muffled thumps of my rushing blood. I yanked open the roof’s trap door and peered into the attic below, my night vision goggles making the cold evening seem like a spring morning teeming with vibrant green.

No life stirred below from what I could see — unlike the unexpected team of three men who had stormed our safe house, it was quiet as mice in a cupboard.
I slid down the ladder, the flesh wound on my arm aching. Adjusting my grip on my rifle, I pointed the barrel at the door and breathed slowly through parted lips.

Shots sounded again, but quieter as though they were in the basement where we kept the girl we’d been hired to hold. The senator who had dished out the cash for us to take care of his “little problem” had arrived a few moments earlier than the man who’d shot me. Another two must have slipped in the front door.

Teeth clenched against the pain in my arm, I wondered again why I hadn’t aimed for the face of the man who had shot at me after taking out our two northern sentries. The bastard had gotten one shot off — enough to make my arm mostly useless.

I eased the attic door open and peered into the farmhouse’s hallway. Light shone from the stairwell around the corner to my right, so I flipped my goggles off and let them slip to the carpeted floor.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I crept forward, and even though I hadn’t gotten off more than a single shot or moved more than twenty feet from my sentry position on the roof, my lungs fought for oxygen.

As an ex-CIA operative, I should have had more control over my nerves. As a battle-hardened bitch, I certainly shouldn’t have allowed my shot at the man slinking up on the house to fly wayward.

Weak.

Lips pursed against disappointment in myself and the stinging pain, I approached the corner. A body whipped around in front of me, a meaty paw grasping my rifle’s barrel before I could swing it up.

Tall — wide shoulders —

I threw a punch to the kidney of the back lit man, putting all my strength behind me, but my fist merely earned a grunt.

The rifle flew from my grasp, and I shot out a combination punch, the third getting caught in the other damn paw of the huge man.

He dropped my gun and I blocked his grab for my injured arm, landing a half assed blow to rock hard abs that bounced my hand back at me.

I dipped as he reached for my free hand, trying like fuck to smash into his sternum with my injured arm.

The fucker snickered. “Got anything else, little girl?”

I growled and punched again, the beast’s body a solid wall of rock I had no chance of conquering.

He grabbed my wrist. “Enough.”

My world flipped, and I found myself face down on the floor, the carpet burning along my cheek as he wrenched my arms behind me. I kicked. Attempted to pull from his grasp — and he sat on my thighs, trapping them between his own. Fuck, he was big.

“Enough,” he snarled again, and zip ties tightened around my wrists. “Second floor clear,” he said, and I closed my eyes, finally stilling at the professionalism his words indicated about the team with him.

Fuck.

Heaving for breath I clenched my eyes shut.

They must have come for the woman locked in the basement. Men with earpieces, men who knew how to use their guns.

Another muffled shot sounded below us, and the man yanked me up, his hold loosening a bit on my good arm as I stood beside him. My back to the light, I peered up at my captor.

Hair, black as night, eyes blue as the summer’s sky…

My heart skipped and my adrenaline spiked again. Hot. No, gorgeous. Tall and solid, just how I used to like my men.

“Let’s go.” He yanked me down the stairs, his hold on my arm keeping me from tumbling down after him.

One of my team members lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, hazel eyes overtaken by dilated pupils that stared into whatever the fuck afterlife he’d believed in. I bit back my whimper, all thoughts of my hot-as-fuck captor erased from my mind.

“Sit.” He pointed at the wall beyond my friend’s feet, and I fought back tears and choking fear while doing as told, sliding down along the wall onto my ass while holding his stare.

Footsteps sounded from the kitchen. Another mountain of a man carried the woman from the basement, his hold gentle, his eyes tender while peering down at her. He lifted his gaze to my captor.

“Sniper from the roof,” my gorgeous attacker all but bit the words out.

“Why the fuck is she still alive?” the mountain asked while setting the woman onto her feet.

My captor turned his focus on the windows flanking the front door a few feet away. “Gunner’s here,” he muttered rather than answer his friend.

Headlights glinted across the entryway’s walls, illuminating the interior briefly, allowing me a quick study of the man looming beside me. Blood dripped from his arm from the bullet I’d put in him, splattering onto the hardwood floor, and I grimaced as my arm sent a shot of pain clear to my fingers, as though wanting to share in his.

My scowl deepened even though my insides warmed from the round, hard ass mere inches from my face. Perfect for sinking my teeth into. Perfect for grasping with my heels while he buried his length inside me. I craned my neck upward, taking in his broad shoulders, the muscular neck that disappeared into hair my fingers itched to touch.

Fuck.

 

More from Lynn at Changeling Press …

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

 

 

Her Wayward Rogue by Megan Slayer #MafiaRomance #SecondChances #NewRelease @MeganSlayer ‏

Her Wayward Rogue (The Jordan Brothers 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Sometimes finding your place means going back to where it all started.

Jaxon Jordan left the safety of the Jordan family to find himself. College, spreading his wings, and figuring out who he wanted to be were high on his list until one very bad night. When he witnesses his friend’s murder, his perspectives change. He has to go home to heal and be with the people who matter — his brothers and his girl, Emily.

Emily Wilson loved Jax once, but he left. She remained in her position working for the family. Part of her wants to open her heart to Jax again, but the rest of her yearns to stay guarded. One look at the man she craved reignites the passion she thought was gone.

Can love strike twice? If you’re a Jordan, anything’s possible.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

Emily Wilson finished the spreadsheet and saved the document. She wasn’t fond of doing bookkeeping, but the paperwork was part of the job. All her employees’ hours were accounted for and every job had been assigned for the next week. She cracked her knuckles. She’d worked for the Jordan family for ten years, mowing lawns, tending to the gardens and creating the floral arrangements for the house. She still wasn’t sure if the family appreciated her efforts around the mansion. Dash liked her, and Christy treated her like a sister, but they were only two people among the many.

“Em?” Carter strolled into her office. Grass marred the worker’s shirt. “We can’t mow by the reflecting pool because the ground is too soft. We’ll end up rutting the turf.”
“Fair enough.” She wasn’t happy, but they’d had so much rain in the last few days, nothing would be fit to mow. “Otherwise?”

“We’re done. It’s past six,” Carter said. “Aren’t you going to close shop for the day?”
“Now that I know it’s six…” Damn. Where had the day gone? “Okay. Have a good evening.”

“You should go. You spend too much time here.” Carter frowned. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“No.” What was he talking about? “You do realize I live in the servants’ quarters.” She didn’t advertise she lived there, but it wasn’t a secret.

“I know.” He shrugged.

“Okay… then what’s wrong?” She hated guessing games.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” She folded her arms. “Carter, you said I should go, and it’s late. Spit it out or keep it quiet, I don’t care.”

“Jax is back.”

“Huh?” Jax? No. He couldn’t be. He’d moved to God only knew where to find himself. He wouldn’t come back to Shaker. Other than his family, he had no ties. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I saw him and was introduced to him.” Carter shrugged again.

“Huh.” She hadn’t expected him, but if he wanted to come home… fine. “With a girl?” That was none of her business, but she had to know.

“Nope. Just him. Dash’s pissed,” Carter said. “All I know is he’s home and alone.”

“Dash gets upset more often than not.” She sighed. “But Jax being home is his prerogative. Is that why you thought I’d leave? This is my job. I’m not letting him decide to fire me.” So he was back. So he’d probably opt to get involved with the family. So what?

“Everyone knows you and Jax were… close.” Carter blushed. “The rumor was he’d gotten you pregnant. It wasn’t a secret. One guy said he had pictures.”

“Christ.” Everyone knew the rumor, and she didn’t doubt someone had photographic proof of their relationship. “It was just a rumor.” She thanked God she was sitting down, or her legs would’ve given out. She couldn’t handle this.

“Right. You wouldn’t have gone pale if it was nothing.”

“Shut up.” He knew her too well. “I’m good, and he can live here. We’ll do our separate things.”

“You don’t care? What if there’s a girl coming later?”

“Then that’s on him.” She shrugged to hide her concern. A girl. Of course he’d have a girl. Jax, like every other Jordan, was handsome.

“Keep telling yourself you’re fine and maybe it’ll come true, but I doubt it.” Carter shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, and thank you.” She waited until Carter closed the door to sigh. Jax had returned. She had no choice but to face him eventually. Maybe he’d ignore her and forget she existed. Maybe his girlfriend was indeed following later and Emily wouldn’t have to worry about him. She couldn’t concern herself with a man in a relationship. She held on to those thoughts because she had nothing better.

Her heart belonged to Jax. He’d been her first love, first kiss… first time. He’d taken her to prom and been her partner in crime. Where everyone else saw her as the gardener’s daughter, Jax saw her as a person. She wasn’t a charity case in his eyes. According to his mother, Emily was nothing more than something to pass Jax’s time, and he’d done her a favor by taking Emily to the big dance. She knew better. She also knew Jax. He had a wandering soul. Why would he come back to the family compound when he could explore the country?

But he had come home.

For how long, she wasn’t sure.

 

More from Megan at Changeling Press…

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

Visit Megan: https://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer

 

#NewRelease – In Fair Brighton by Elena Kincaid #MafiaRomance #EroticRomance @elenakincaid1 @evernightpub

 

Thank you so much for hosting IN FAIR BRIGHTON (Star-Crossed Mafia #1). I’m so excited for your readers to meet Sasha and Rome, my Romeo and Juliet-esque couple from two rival mob families.

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Sasha Palmer, a travel writer, never stays in one place long enough to find even the possibility of love. The baggage of her family keeps her closed off from everyone, but one day, love finds her in the form of strong arms, wrapping around her, and pulling her to safety from oncoming traffic. One look at Rome, and she’s a goner.

Roman “Rome” Valentin is a killer … and a good one at that. He leads a life he detests, full of self-loathing until the day he meets Sasha. She barrels into his life and steals the heart he didn’t know he still had … and then she vanishes.

Their two families have been at war for decades. Will a chance meeting and a passionate growing love end the bitter feud or spark a battle that may destroy them all?

 

Buy Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079Y4HS4B

Evernight: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/in-fair-brighton-by-elena-kincaid/

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-fair-brighton-elena-kincaid/1128010604

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?Query=in+fair+brighton

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079Y4HS4B

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B079Y4HS4B

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B079Y4HS4B

 

Teaser IFB

Adult Excerpt

Sasha found herself pressed against the façade of a bright yellow apartment building. The street they had been walking down was nearly deserted, when the two of them suddenly exchanged heated glances. He pushed her up against the building and kissed her fiercely, one of his hands cradling the back of her head, while the other was right below her ass as she hitched her leg around him. She threaded her hand into his hair and fisted the front of his shirt again with her other hand, moaning into his mouth as the kiss consumed them both, letting out two days’ worth of fire and heat. She felt his hard length pressing into her, wanting to take him inside her body and lose herself in him.

He slowed their kiss down. “Do you want me to take you back to your hotel now?” he whispered against her lips.

“No,” she whispered back. She nipped his bottom lip, driving him to kiss her fervently again.

He pulled back to look at her, his face riddled with desire. “I ache so badly for you, Sasha.”

“Then have me,” she said. “I want you, too, Rome.”

His hotel was closer to their location, only two blocks away. They walked briskly without a word until they were inside his room.

“God, what you do to me,” he said, his voice gravelly, right before he cupped her face and delivered another impassioned kiss.

He removed his hands from her face, and lowered them to cup her ass, pulling her closer to him. Sasha moaned into his mouth as he hoisted her up to straddle his waist. He then carried her to the side of the bed in the center of the room and laid her down on her back so that her bottom was at the edge and her legs dangled off the side.

He gave her a hungry look, pushed her legs up closer to her before spreading them wide. “Leave them like that,” he ordered.

She made a low “uh” sound in response, never having been so turned on in her entire life. He pushed her sundress up to the middle of her stomach and licked his lips as he stared at her panty-clad swollen flesh. She let out a moan in response.

Using only one finger, he slowly traced the center of her cleft. His breathing was harsh. “I can feel how wet you are for me even through here.” And just as achingly slow, he hooked a finger on each side of her underwear by her hip and pulled them off her, and then spread her legs back open to their previous position.

She felt so vulnerable, yet so turned on with the way he was hungrily staring at her most intimate part. He dipped his head, and immediately followed the path his finger had done, only this time with his tongue. Sasha moaned loudly at the contact.

“Even your pussy tastes sweet,” he said against her flesh.

Rome tortured her at first, licking all around her outer and inner lips, avoiding that tight little bundle of nerves she wanted to beg him to taste until finally, she did beg. “Please, Rome, please.”

His soft chuckle against her only made her feel needier until he took pity on her and gave her what she wanted. He sucked her clit into his mouth, making her whimper, and then he ate her as if she were his most delicious dessert, lips, tongue, teeth, driving her to the edge quickly.

She screamed, her orgasm hitting her so fiercely, it blurred her vision for a moment. His mouth did not release her until her body calmed.

“You’re so beautiful when you come,” he said, his voice gravelly.

She gave him a lazy smile when he stood up to remove his shirt. She sat up then, to undo the button on his jeans while he watched her with his eyes hooded. She bit her bottom lip as she lowered his zipper, returning the favor by tormenting him with her slowness. Then, instead of touching him where he wanted, she traced the hard lines of his six-pack abs, up to his muscular chest, and then she brought them lower again all the way down to his perfect V. Rome’s body was a work of art. Michelangelo’s David came to mind.

Deciding she couldn’t wait any longer to taste him, she freed his hard cock, thick, long, and cut. He was beautiful. He shucked his pants all the way down, and as soon as he stepped out of them and came closer to her, she sucked him into her mouth, taking him as far as she could go.

His moans of enjoyment only urged her on, knowing she was driving him as crazy as he had her. She licked up and down his shaft a few times before popping him back in, and concentrating on the head.

“Enough,” he said gruffly, popping himself out of her mouth. “I want to come inside you.”

About Elena Kincaid

Elena Kincaid is an award-winning and Amazon best-selling author. She writes Paranormal and Contemporary Romances. She developed a passion for reading and writing at an early age, and loves to write what she loves to read, usually romance with a paranormal twist. Her desk is constantly cluttered with journals, sticky notes, and torn-out pieces of paper full of ideas.

She was born in Ukraine and raised in New York, where she currently lives with her daughter. She graduated college with a BFA in creative writing, and in addition to writing, she also started a graphic design business a few years after graduating. When not working, Elena loves to spend time with her family, travel the globe, curl up with a good book, and catch up on her soaps.

 

Blog: http://elenakincaid.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.elenakincaid.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/elenakincaid1

FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/elenakincaidthree

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/dlrLFz

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Elena-Kincaid/e/B011IOY3KE

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7060236.Elena_Kincaid

Street Team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/SMEstreetteam/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elenakincaid/