Chris Novak is adjusting to his lieutenant being the first openly gay SEAL. Seeing the man’s obvious love for his husband gives Chris ideas—ones he has ruthlessly suppressed his whole life. Becoming a SEAL was his dream. Having the love and approval of his father remains critical to him. Acknowledging his sexual orientation would have jeopardized both. While the military has evolved, Chris fears that his father’s views have not.
Tanner Pac has been openly out and proud since high school, with his family embracing him as he is. He knows being gay is not a problem, but his dream of becoming a software engineer is. His parents expect him to carry on the family business of running a pizza parlor. He dares not disappoint them, fearing a loss that would crush him.
While visiting his father on leave, Chris goes out for pizza, not expecting to run into his old girlfriend’s annoying little brother. They could never ditch Tanner and now that he is all grown up, Chris finds he no longer wants to. Facing the strong temptation that Tanner presents is causing Chris to also face the truth about himself.
As Chris and Tanner struggle to meet their parents’ expectations, their attraction for each other cannot be denied. Their strength and courage grow in each other’s arms, but it may not be enough to break free of the weight of family expectations.
Excerpt
“Man, the way the lieutenant’s reunion is going, I’m not sure they’ll make it home. Know what I mean?”
Petty Officer First Class Christopher Novak did indeed know what his teammate meant. Scott Carpenter’s husband had jumped into his arms the second he’d seen Scott coming through the gates. At the moment, the guy’s legs were wrapped around Scott’s waist, and the two of them were going to pass out from lack of oxygen if that kiss didn’t end soon.
“Yeah, but we shouldn’t be staring. It’s not like they’re animals in a zoo.”
His teammate, Diego, had no filter. “I hear you, only it’s like…when have you ever seen a SEAL kiss another man? It’s a first for me.”
Chris slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. “It’s a first for everyone, and Scott’s already on the receiving end of some nasty reactions. We don’t need to add to them.” He walked away, breaking his gaze from the sight. He hadn’t been able to make the wedding the previous summer, so this was the first time he’d seen Scott in such an obviously sexual way with his husband. He couldn’t bear to watch, not because it disgusted him but because it was compelling in a way that disturbed him.
Diego stepped up to his side. “Wanna grab a drink? I’d like to find some female company myself, and I hear The Anchor has added a new heat level to their wings.”
Chris shook his head. “Sorry… I’ve got laundry to do, then hitting the rack. I have an early flight to Detroit in the morning.”
Diego groaned. “Seriously? Why are you so keen on freezing your balls off after what we just went through? I need a few days in the sun to thaw out.”
“I’m overdue visiting my father. If you think you can convince him to move away from his hometown, his extended family and the proximity of my mother’s grave and come to San Diego, have at it.” There was more bite to his words than he’d intended. Visiting his father always triggered conflicting feelings in him. Obviously, he loved the man, but the strain of meeting his expectations was beginning to wear on him.
“Dude, I’m sorry. I was only joking.”
Chris flashed him a smile. “It’s fine. I know you were. I’m tired, that’s all. Have fun tonight, and I expect a full report on how it goes with both the wings and the women.”
He peeled off when they reached his truck. As he tossed in his duffel and slid behind the wheel, he reminded himself that spending his leave with his father was a good thing. They would talk shop, as much as legally permitted, watch sports and pretend that everything was great—because it was, damn it all. There was no reason to believe otherwise. And yet, the vision of Scott devouring his husband’s mouth in front of God and everyone stuck in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to shake it away.
Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.
She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don’t understand why they can’t read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.
Giveaway
Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.
Working with the guy who turns him on and pisses him off has Nick in a tailspin.
Nick’s trying to get everything together—his life, his job, his family. After leaving the military, he joined both his brothers at Hart Consulting, but he can’t seem to get his shit organized. His brother still won’t speak to his father, his dad is willing to go to crazy lengths to see his brother and Nick has to train for his new job.
Just when he thinks he might have everything under a bit of control, he’s assigned to work with Ax, the only operator who’s able to get under his skin. Nick needs to put his head down and make a good impression on his first assignment with HC. Too bad Ax is determined not to make it easy…
Reader advisory: This book is best read as book two in a series. It contains abduction and trafficking of minors, references to torture and medical abuse and violence.
Excerpt
“Look, kid. I got nothing to tell you.”
Bray pulled his gaze from the full lips he’d been watching as the man in the doorway, Sam, gave a flat refusal. He took a deep, calming breath and willed away his body’s response. Maybe he needed to back up a little and explain the urgency of the situation. He didn’t have a lot of time to find Mase, and this Sam guy was his best bet.
The guy blocking the doorway would be hot if his eyebrows weren’t pinched together so tight and his big, full lips weren’t turned down. Hell, he was still hot, even in full intimidation mode.
Sam’s honey-blond hair was longer on top and styled high. His groomed beard was just a few shades darker than the hair on his head and hinted at the tiniest bit of red highlights. Bray lowered his eyes again to Sam’s lips. Both were plump, but the top lip was a little fuller than the bottom one. That was rare, in Bray’s experience, but sexy as hell.
The tic in the jaw next to those lips brought Bray back to the matter at hand. He looked up into Sam’s cinnamon-brown eyes as he considered his options.
“I know you’re working with Mase and I have to find him. I’m—”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about, but I have shit to do.”
Sam tried to close the old, paint-chipped door in Bray’s face, but Bray stepped forward, using his foot as a doorstop. He wouldn’t give up that easily. Bray needed to untie his tongue and keep on task, no matter how sexy the guy was.
“Please, I don’t have a lot of time. I just need to talk to him.”
“Look, kid—”
“I’m not a kid. I know he’s pulled some crazy stunts since he got kicked out—”
“You don’t know shit, kid. If you just got kicked out of the military and you’re looking for camaraderie and a job, forget it.”
As soon as Sam said the word ‘military’, Bray breathed a sigh of relief. Sam swore under his breath. So the guy definitely knew his brother. Sam flexed his huge biceps as he crossed his arms. His head dipped to one side as he leaned forward. Bray swallowed then a tiny breath escaped his lips as he imagined the man before him leaning in to steal a kiss. Was this guy Mase’s boyfriend? If so, his brother was one lucky bastard.
“Move your foot. Like I said, kid, you don’t know shit,” Sam ground out through clenched teeth.
“Just tell me what’s going on. Is he okay? If he’d returned any of my emails over the past two and half years, maybe I’d know more about what was happening.”
“You think I can help you?”
Bray gave one sharp nod of confirmation. Sam blew a breath out between his lush lips and dropped his arms to his sides. The crease between his brows eased a bit as he seemed to really look at Bray for the first time. He looked over Bray’s head down the hallway for a moment before coming to some kind of decision.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Bray, Brayden Hart.”
There was a pause. Bray assumed it was Sam digesting Bray’s last name, Mase’s last name.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I got nothing for you, Mr. Hart.”
“How’d you know I was in the army?”
“You got it written all over you, from your close-cropped cut to your military stance.” The guy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve got things to do, kid, so do you mind moving your foot—or do I need to move it for you?”
Bray wet his dry lips as he contemplated his choices. He could call Max for another favor, but if he went that route, he’d need this part to be believable.
“I can just sit out here and wait until he comes home.”
“You’ll be waiting the rest of your life, kid.”
“It’s Bray or Brayden, and I think you have a really good idea when you’ll be talking to Mase again.”
Looking over Sam’s shoulder, Bray took in the shit-hole apartment with its dingy brown carpet and walls so old that the wallpaper was peeling at the corners along the ceiling. A ceiling with tiles that had different-sized brown rings, a sure sign of water damage. Was this how Mase was living now? The thought made Bray’s gut twist uncomfortably.
If Mase needed money… Bray shook his head. Mase would never be the one to reach out, which was exactly why Bray was standing in the hallway that smelled like piss mixed with broccoli farts. Unless the inside of the apartment smelled better, he didn’t see how anyone could even think about putting a morsel of food into their mouth in this place.
If by chance Sam did talk to Mase before Brayden could get to him, he had to figure out a message most likely to get a response. Would Mase come home or even return a call if he knew the truth? Probably not. Bray bit his lip as he waffled. He didn’t like lying, and he especially didn’t like lying to family. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive his father for his ‘little white lie’.
“When you see him, tell him Nickel needs him. Tell him it’s looking like it might be life or death.”
Both those statements taken separately were absolutely one hundred percent true. Nick might deny he needed their older brother, but he and Bray were twins. Bray knew they both required all the support they could get.
When Mase heard those statements together, Bray knew what he’d assume, and he’d have to apologize for it later. For now, he decided it was the best route. He had a feeling Sam would repeat those statements verbatim to his brother.
“Nickel?” Sam asked.
“Nick, my twin.”
“Twins? There’re two of you running around wreaking havoc?”
“Nick wreaks more havoc and we’re not identical, so there aren’t exactly two of me.”
Sam’s only response was a raised eyebrow.
“So you’ll tell him?”
“I’m sorry. There’s no way I can help you,” Sam said with the shake of his head.
Even though Bray was anxious, he hesitated before lifting his foot. He needed Sam to think he was reluctant to leave. Sam was only a couple inches taller than Bray’s five-foot-eleven-inch frame, but he hunched down a little, so they were eye to eye.
“I can’t help you,” Sam said again.
Bray swallowed as energy began to hum under his skin at the man’s direct stare. He couldn’t be lusting after his brother’s boyfriend. Wetting his dry lips one last time, Bray nodded and lifted his foot. The two men stared at each other for a moment longer, until the sound of a baby screaming somewhere down the hall had Bray turning his head. Before he could even suck in another breath, the door in front of him slammed shut and the lock snicked into place.
With a dejected sigh, Brayden looked at the door for another minute. Guilt had his stomach tightening into knots. He couldn’t afford to stand around, though his hesitation to leave would probably work in his favor in case Sam was watching through the peephole.
When he pushed open the door of the building a few minutes later, Bray sucked in some of the fresh air. He didn’t even care that his clothes immediately glued themselves to his body with the humidity Florida was famous for. He was just glad to be out of the stench that had pressed down on him inside the apartment building.
After one last glance at the second floor, Bray walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. As soon as he was in his rental car, he dialed Max’s number.
“How’d it go?” Max said.
“He wouldn’t even admit he knew Mase.”
There was silence on the other end. Max had warned him against making contact with Sam. He’d suggested following him until he led Bray to Mase, but Bray didn’t have that kind of time.
“So, it looks like you were right,” Bray admitted.
There was still silence on the other end of the line.
“Look, Sin. I still need help.”
Bray always struggled calling his friend by his pseudonym. Even though it stood for Super Intel Nerd, calling a nerdy guy like Max, Sin seemed funny to Bray.
“Next time listen to me. You’ve now ruined the advantage of surprising him.”
“Fine. Can you find out where he’s going?”
“Of course I can.”
Bray could hear the light click-clack of Max tapping on the keys of his laptop. Putting the phone on Bluetooth, Bray started his rental and pulled out of the parking spot behind Sam’s apartment building.
“Where’s he going?” Bray asked as he pulled out onto the street.
“I have him traveling out of Miami to Kiev tomorrow with a stopover in Munich.”
Bray tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. This had just gotten a lot more complicated and expensive than he’d anticipated. Was Mase undercover or was he in trouble? If he was in trouble, Bray wanted to be there.
“Looks like I’ll be heading to Kiev,” he sighed.
“I’ll book you a flight that stops over in DC. I’ve got something I want to give you if you’re going to Kiev.”
“I just have to check out of the hotel. Give me a couple of hours to get to the airport.”
Max disconnected the call without saying goodbye, but it didn’t surprise Bray at all. Max was always on to the next problem.
Rae has been secretly penning romances since high school. It started with short stories that grew into full-length novels. When she received her first Kindle and had thousands of books at her fingertips, she became a little distracted from writing. Then one day she read a book that she would have written a different way. She began writing again and hasn’t stopped since.
When she’s not writing, Rae can usually be found reading, walking along the beaches of Half Moon Bay, or taking her geriatric dog to the vet, yet again.
He stole her heart then left without a goodbye. A year later and he’s back, telling her she needs protection—but the only protection she wants is from him.
The pre-deployment fling Navy SEAL Matteo ‘Delta’ Valente couldn’t forget has tortured him for his entire tour. A year later, Delta thought he was over it. Finally, he gets home, but runs into Kendra Larose again. It has been so long—but not long enough. With one look, she stirs something inside him that he’d tried to lock up after all those nights thinking of her, sleeping in dirt with nothing but his helmet for a pillow.
The problem he quickly realizes is that she’s in real danger. Delta’s instincts prove too powerful to override.
Kendra isn’t so convinced. Delta has just shown up, out of nowhere, with big claims that she’s in danger and needs protection? Kendra wants to see the hard evidence. She’s hated him ever since he didn’t call. She’d fallen hard, and he’d broken her heart with no apparent remorse.
A forensic specialist working for LAPD, Kendra has blood samples to run in the lab to get to the bottom of her latest case. The thing that becomes apparent is that her case intersects a little too neatly with Delta. She can’t quite figure out whose side he is on, why he’s back in her life and whether she can trust him or not. So, she keeps one big secret close to her chest.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, sexual harrassment and assault.
Excerpt
Matteo ‘Delta’ Valente ran out of his Californian bungalow a little too damn early in the morning. Hell, he’d only been home for a few hours. After jamming his aching arm through his hunter green utility shirt, he buttoned it, trying to multi-task as he unlocked the dark truck which awaited him in his driveway. He was running behind—again.
For fuck’s sake.
Damn, sleeping a couple of hours a night is bound to catch up with me sooner rather than later. He grumbled as he slipped on his dark sunglasses to protect his hurting eyes from the blistering sun. Even in January, the sun was still beating down on him stronger than a direct RPG blast. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was so damn drained.
“Matteo!” An elderly lady’s voice called out quietly from behind him, her Italian accent pouring through.
He whipped around, checking to make sure she was okay. The tiny old Italian lady stood at the edge of her bungalow’s stoop, a worried look in her eye. Using his hand to flatten back his chaotic dark blond hair, he regrettably realized another thing. He was way past due for a shave.
“Mrs. Romano.” Delta attempted a polite smile at his neighbor, hoping she wouldn’t notice the gashes on his knuckles from the previous night.
Mrs. Romano fretted, wringing her yellow dotted handkerchief as she batted her eyelashes up at him. He gritted his teeth under her gaze, willfully rejecting any concern she had—or judgment.
“Lovely morning, Matteo.” Her voice fluttered, darting her eyes down her empty driveway to the street.
Every other neighbor on the street had bins out. It was garbage day. Immediately, Delta realized that she needed help—but she didn’t want to ask.
“Want me to take your bins to the street, Mrs. Romano?” He shot that same, self-assured smile, like he was the most relaxed man in the world. It was a mask he was used to wearing.
A wide, relieved smile crossed her lips. “Yes, son. Please.”
Wasting no time, Delta moved around to the back of her home and shuffled out her garbage and recycling bins. It was the least he could do to try to keep up the ruse. He wasn’t an idiot. People had been looking at him funny since he’d rotated back from Syria again, three weeks before. Maybe it was the bruises that didn’t seem to heal or the fact that he always looked like he’d been ridden hard and put away wet the night before. Whatever it was, home had stopped feeling like home. He didn’t belong there anymore.
As he finished, Mrs. Romano waited at the top of her bungalow stoop with a homemade pistachio biscotti for him. Her kind eyes and compassionate spirit reminded him of his late mother’s—the last memories he had.
“Thanks,” Delta grunted as he took the baked good from Mrs. Romano.
His stomach was rumbling from the lack of sustenance. He was used to pushing his body to extremes, neglecting his own needs for the sake of his platoon, but things were going too far now.
“You’re a good man, Matteo…a very good man.” Mrs. Romano’s voice cut into his thoughts, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “When are you going to find a Mrs. Valente?”
Delta let out a loud, sarcastic laugh, sloughing off the question. Shrugging, he coyly took a bite of the biscotti and moved toward his truck, waving goodbye. All she saw was his façade, like everyone else. If she only knew.
Mrs. Romano’s gaze didn’t relent as he leaped into the cab. He was in a rush—but it wasn’t just because of where he had to be. It was because of what he needed to get away from. He was damn sure that Mrs. Romano wouldn’t think so much of him if she knew what lingered underneath the surface.
I’m not a good guy. Not even close.
Slamming the gears of his truck into reverse, he pulled out of the driveway of his place, saluting Mrs. Romano on his way out. The fun and games were over. Now, he really had to focus. He was on a mission that morning—and things could get ugly.
Barreling down Oceanside Drive, Delta flipped on the radio—local LA news—and listened to the newscasters talking about a body discovered in South Central in one of the roughest blocks. It had been on the news all morning—tragedy porn for LA’ers. Delta listened for any pertinent intel as he set his GPS for the crime scene. He had questions that needed answers.
Gripping the steering wheel, Delta rolled his shirt sleeves up to let a little heat off, revealing his winding tattoos. It was far too hot for long sleeves, even by LA standards. They were in the middle of a bizarre mid-winter heat wave. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to cover up. There were things he didn’t want anyone to see—like the fresh laceration on his arm that was only going to add another scar.
As he stopped his truck at a red light, he pulled off his sunglasses and absently traced his fingers over the long scar that ran from his cheekbone up to his temple and eyebrow. A little less than two years old, it was a reminder that he should have died in the Syrian mountains. Hell, he should have died in a lot of operations, but undeniably that one.
Now, he was on borrowed time. He could feel it. He was never wrong about those things. He was playing with fire and some sort of fucked up luck that was about to run out.
The light turned green, and he hit the gas hard, not wanting to think about how he was spending that second chance at life. It sure as hell would make a priest cry. His mother had always said that he didn’t need to be led into temptation because he already knew the way.
The drive from his bungalow up into South Central wasn’t fast, but he drove aggressively. He knew how to scare the piss out of LA’s richest, stalling out the fast lane in their luxury cars.
Revving his truck and nearly eating up some dinky coupe in front of him, he peeled off the highway. Rounding the streets in the impoverished neighborhood, he transitioned into a different type of vigilant and cautious. Those streets bled a type of desperation that he’d only seen in war.
Delta drove up to the vicinity of the taped-off scene and chose to park well off in the distance to keep a low profile. Before jumping out of his truck, he popped a black baseball hat on, pulling the brim down low for as much anonymity as possible. He adjusted his long sleeves across his muscled forearms so his unpolished appearance would help him not to stand out too much. He looked like any hungover blue-collar laborer who spent too much time at the gym. Then again, that pretty much described any SEAL.
He walked up to the periphery of a building that police were investigating—an abandoned commercial warehouse. Delta guessed that whoever owned the aging building had been hit hard in the economic crash, so they’d left it to rot. From the insecure doors and broken windows, he would bet that criminals and drifters had been trespassing for a long time.
Delta gripped the police tape surrounding the epicenter and glanced around to see if the cops off to the side had noticed him. They had their backs turned, just for a moment, so he took his chance. As he slipped past, he slunk around the building into the shadows, and he observed. He paused in an enclave, watching cops come and go from the building, listening to the broken conversations of the investigators.
In all his years in the special forces, he’d become skilled at going unseen when he needed to. He could be a goddamn ninja. A lot of it just had to do with confidence—and looking like he belonged. That had turned out to be damn useful the previous few weeks. He’d been on leave from work, but it hadn’t been a fucking vacation. He’d been working on something else—something serious. And, in true Delta fashion, he’d been going it alone.
Crouching low and moving slow, Delta approached a broken window near the back of the building. He checked inside, seeing the room was empty. A ton of blood was splashed across the concrete floor, but there was no body in sight. Fuck. Had the cops already moved the corpse out? He reached into his pocket, readying his cell phone to snap pictures of anything that could aid him. Delta scanned the room for pertinent info. The graying building interior had the feel of an unrealized horror film, and a chill ran up his back as he wondered what the fuck had happened there.
Voices echoed from the front hall of the building, and Delta ducked down outside the window. He could hear the voice of someone entering the room, calling back details of the scene to the front of the building. His first instinct hadn’t been wrong. The victim had been using. And, unfortunately, his second instinct had been right too. She was there.
His body stiffened and his skin prickled, awareness flushing over him. He’d never forget her voice, even though he hadn’t heard it for a while. He’d bumped into her at Carrick’s wedding, just weeks after they’d hooked up, but that hardly counted. Had it already been a year? Hearty, feminine, sincere—every word she said danced out of her mouth. As he tried to regain focus, he slowly looked up and into the open window, enough to fully take in her candid, clever words. Her voice alone ran a wave of sensation up his spine that surprised him, after all that time. But it was nothing in comparison to when he finally laid eyes on her.
Sergeant Kendra Larose’s natural blonde hair bobbed into view. Delta adjusted his position, getting eyes on the interior of the crime scene and a better view of her—a woman he hadn’t seen since he’d deployed, spending the year fighting enemies with half the resolve that she had. A woman who had grown to hate him—and rightfully so.
I can’t let her see me.
After she tucked a stray lock behind her ear, Kendra was focused on the warehouse floor. Delta’s cock twitched as he watched her shift on her feet, her hips swaying. Blood pumped through his shaft as he drank in her body—a form that drew him to arousal so quickly, without fail. Never had he met such a natural beauty as her. Some guys might find her ordinary or plain, but he found her simply intoxicating. There was always just something about her—something that really got to him.
Even at a distance, he admired the machinations of her clever mind. She was looking down at a cluster of blood where a body once had lain, her lips and nose twitching that certain way that showed when she was really deep in thought. She was on to something. How much did she already know? Delta tried to see what she was seeing. He flexed his jaw, wondering if maybe it wasn’t fate that they’d met again. On his own, tracing the source of the drugs had proven to be an impossible task.
And just as a familiar man’s voice echoed through the space, Delta realized he was biting the side of his cheek, breathing heavier than usual and gripping the edge of the window like he was going to snap.
“This city is falling to pieces.” The man scoffed, coming into view.
Delta recognized him immediately as Staff Sergeant Hunter Greenwood. Delta had met the guy a year ago, around the same time that he had met Kendra. The Navy had put on a one-week training course for partners in law enforcement, extending the invite to LAPD. At the time, Delta had shown Kendra the ropes—training her how to safely rappel, while realizing that he needed to train her on protecting herself from creeps. Something about the way that Hunter looked at Kendra…
“He’s another military vet.” Kendra shook her head and furiously scribbled in her notebook. “They’ve already identified him.”
Prickles ran up the back of Delta’s neck as he watched Hunter stalk Kendra in the middle of the crime scene. Everything in Delta’s body screamed for violence as Hunter licked his bottom lip, carefully examining her. The scowl on his face deepened as she furthered her point.
“What do you bet his blood has traces of doxycycline?” Kendra turned to her boss.
“Come on.” He shook his head dismissively, straightening his jacket. “It’s a common antibiotic. Stop.”
“This is real, Hunter. We’ve seen traces of it in the other two bodies.” Kendra glared at her staff sergeant, standing her ground. “There’s a pattern here. Are they being targeted?”
“For what purpose?” he asked, an underlying threat in his voice.
“I don’t know yet.”
Hunter stilled, clearly judging her. The man looked damn tired, like he hadn’t slept for weeks.
“Let’s not start jumping to conclusions,” Hunter snapped back, his eye twitching. “Anything is possible, Kendra. Let’s check with the gangs first.”
“Hunter, please. The first two have been soldiers, not gangbangers,” Kendra replied slowly, flipping through her notes. “But why? Who’s after them—?”
A flash of rage visibly taking over, he cut her off. “We don’t have any reason to believe there are links between cases. This is LA. Murders happen all the time.”
“But there must be a connection.” Kendra glanced between her notebook, the blood splatter and Hunter, apparently confused by his messaging. “It’s this doxycycline. Isn’t it known to be used by the military as an antimalaria drug?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions.” Hunter strode toward her, his face darkening.
“Yes, but doxycycline—”
“You don’t get it.”
“They were soldiers—” Kendra countered again but halted as Hunter’s hand whipped up into the air, matched by a growl escaping his lips.
For a split second, Delta’s protective instinct thrust him forward, ready to fuck the guy up. But Hunter had recovered, using his raised hand to smooth back his hair.
“Fuck,” Hunter grumbled, shaking as he regained control.
Delta stiffened, his eyes wide open. What the fuck is he going to do with that hand? Kendra stumbled back in surprise, audibly sucking in breath. But before Delta could jump to her side, the enraged staff sergeant spun and marched toward the front of the building. Whatever he was up to, Delta saw a man who was losing control—a man who posed a threat. He was a ticking time-bomb. Didn’t she realize it?
Stunned, Kendra stood there alone, tightly clutching her notebook. She bit her lip, trembling, as if trying to get back to work. Delta sat back, confused as fuck at what he’d just witnessed. Delta knew right then and there that he had little choice. Things had just gotten more complicated.
I have to protect her.
Pulling out black gloves from his pocket, he slipped them on, preparing to leave no trace of what he was about to do. The scene before him had validated everything he’d seen since he’d been back from deployment. The body count was climbing.
Moving around the building a little farther, he gained entry to the interior. As he stalked through the shadows, making note of everything he saw, he was careful not to disturb anything, not even caked-on grime from years of abandonment. In stealth-mode, he slid out of the hallway into the darkest corner of the large room, not too far from Kendra. For a split second, he found himself just staring at her, drinking her in—the way she poured over her notebook then sharply analyzed the room before her. He had no doubt that her cunning mind was finding every anomalous detail.
And, yet again, he was proven right.
“And why are you here?” Kendra’s exasperated tone echoed over to where he stood, though she didn’t flinch or glance up from scribbling in her notebook.
Delta sucked in his breath, wondering if she meant…
“Yes, you.” She turned her chin slightly and shot a warning into the darkness, seeming to slice into his core. “Do you think I’m daft?”
Releasing the air in his lungs, he stepped forward—confident and relaxed, offering her a sly look as he crossed his arms. His charming ruse was too goddamn easy for him to make people see his way.
“Sergeant.” Delta shrugged. He narrowed his focus on her, giving her that grin that women loved. “Here we are, crossing paths again.”
“Crossing paths?” She balked.
“That’s right.” He kept his gaze intense, his body squared.
Turning away, she scoffed, “You’re acting like we’ve stumbled across each other at the grocery store.”
She shook her head in deep discontent, seemingly impervious to his charm. A chill ran up the back of his neck, her rejection biting. He hated it—but deserved it. Still, he stood there, watching.
“I’m too busy for this right now.” She spun, crossing her arms tightly, as if shielding herself. Her body language screamed of a woman who would not be fooled again.
“Too busy for me?” Delta pushed.
“I’ll go back to my original question.” She raised her eyebrows accusingly. “Why are you here? This is a secure crime scene, so you don’t belong here. I don’t care what security clearances you say you have.”
All the air got sucked out of the room, and he found himself momentarily searching for a response. Her bright, intelligent eyes left no stone unturned and demanded answers. She anxiously chewed her lip, giving him a rare glimpse of her girlish vulnerability—the type of vulnerability that made him voracious.
“We have a mutual purpose.” Delta let his face become stone cold serious, imparting the intensity he felt.
I’m a mom with three sweet young daughters. I have three jobs – mom, author, and analyst. Years ago, I grew up in a military family, went to a military university, worked alongside the military as an intel analyst, and my husband is (surprise!) a veteran. I’ve tried to write for anyone who wants to feel what it’s like to be with someone from that world – with all the good and the bad.
My heroes are grounded in reality, and are inspired by guys I know in the special forces. Guys who’ve been in combat, tasted war, and fought for what they believed in. They are really heroes, but raw and rough and broken in their own ways.
My heroines similarly come from the best parts of the women I know, and the challenges we all face. The relationships that they fall into have familiar characteristics for many, myself included. These heroines represent all of us, with our good and our bad laid bare.
In my stories, I illustrate, romanticize, and celebrate the harsh realities of duty, service, and sacrifice.
Scott, a Navy SEAL, returns to his childhood beach house to deal with the emotional trauma of his latest mission. When a sniper killed his closest friend, Scott was left dealing with survivor’s guilt and the disturbing feeling that his friend meant more to him. He has always identified as strictly straight, attraction to men being something he has ruthlessly suppressed.
When he finds Kitt, a friend of his sister’s, hiding out from his abusive boyfriend, Scott is once again drawn to someone of his own gender. Although annoyed at the intrusion, Scott also instantly develops an interest in his unwanted houseguest. Keeping his distance is proving to be impossible and his growing desire for Kitt cannot be ignored.
Forced to leave home, Kitt entered into a relationship with a man who turned abusive. Having finally found the courage to escape, the last thing he wants or needs is another alpha male invading his space. But having nowhere else to go, he ends up staying with a man who disturbs him in more ways than one. As scary as the SEAL is, Scott is exactly the type of man Kitt dreams about.
The beach house is small, and the two men cannot avoid one another or the attraction between them. With each passing day, their bond grows stronger. Hesitation slowly gives way to passion. They need to trust their feelings and let go of the things that frighten them, to find safety and solace in each other.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, attempted murder, stalking, PTSD and references to death in a war zone, abusive parents and relationship abuse.
Excerpt
By the time Scott reached the beach house, visions of falling face-down in his bed swam before his eyes. He really should have checked into one of the airport hotels for the night instead of renting a car and heading north. But the driving need for solitude had overridden his better judgment. Even arriving in Boston at o-dark-thirty hadn’t thinned the crowds of people enough to satisfy his jangled nerves. He needed quiet and the mental space that came from being utterly alone to get his head screwed back on right. Otherwise, his time in the SEAL Teams would come to an end. The mere thought of having to leave his Naval career was intolerable to him.
He took a moment as he exited his rental SUV to simply stand and stare out over the ocean. The sun was just rising above the rippling blue-green water, washing the horizon in tones of red and orange. Seagulls screeched in their staccato fashion, as if they were in a constant state of agitation. He welcomed the familiar sound of their mindless scolding. The crash of waves against the rocky shore told him the tide was coming in. He took in a deep breath of salty air tinged with a hint of clam flats and smiled. All the joy of his childhood filled the aching hole that had formed in the middle of his chest. Coming here had been the right call. This was where he needed to be.
His exhaustion momentarily abated, Scott grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the SUV and walked up the stone path to the front door. There was no need to lock his vehicle, not in the low-crime town of Sewall, Massachusetts. It was barely more than a spit of rocky land and had never developed the cachet of its neighbors like Rockport as a fashionable seaside town. It attracted no one other than the dedicated perennial vacationer and was the perfect place to hide away for a while without fear of disturbance. His sister wouldn’t haul her brood up from the suburbs of Boston until August. He could be sure of having the place all to himself…to be alone.
Safe.
No, where had that thought come from? He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. There was nowhere on Earth that he didn’t feel as if he could protect himself. And he understood better than most that death was always lurking around, regardless. One only had to be ready to face it. Defeat it. If necessary, accept it when options had truly run out, but only after fighting to the very last breath. He took in another deep lungful of brisk ocean air with that last thought, irritated at his dark, almost defeatist attitude.
I need sleep. That’s all.
Scott almost sprinted to the seafoam green door, fumbled with the keys to open it and stepped inside the cool, quiet house of his childhood…that was not empty.
He froze inside the doorway and stared at the vision that greeted him. His mind did all kinds of acrobatics as he tried to make sense of what he saw. With the open floorplan of the first floor, he had a clear view of a naked woman standing in the kitchen. She was reaching up to a shelf filled with bowls, her toned arm stretched high. A curtain of long, dark hair swung below her shoulder blades, catching his attention. He followed the movement past the tapered ends, down a slender back of creamy skin accentuated by some kind of colorful tramp-stamp.
The tattoo skimmed a high, tight ass that held his gaze like a magnet. His overtired brain popped and snapped with a sudden spark of need. As exhausted as he was, his body came alive, desire shooting through him to pool in his groin. Even as an involuntary grunt passed his lips, the more rational part of his mind took over. It was trying to put on the brakes because something was off. The woman’s hips were too straight, and her shoulders were a bit broad. As the pieces clicked into place, the beach house inhabitant whirled around with a sharp inhalation. Now, the cock and balls of the man came literally swinging into view.
Scott’s own cock was caught between hardening and deflating again. He could feel it waging a war inside his worn jeans for a few seconds before it gave up in a semi-hard state that he ignored. Nothing to see here, folks. It was the other man’s reaction that caught and held his focus. Across the large expanse, there was visible fear in the dark eyes staring back at him. And the guy did nothing to hide his genitals. Instead, one hand had flown to the base of his throat in a clear defensive gesture. He whipped the other up to hold against his left cheek. But the quickness of the move hadn’t stopped Scott from seeing a livid bruise that marred the pretty skin there.
“Who?” The young man blinked at him for a few seconds, breathing quickly, before he visibly relaxed. “Oh, you’re Karen’s brother, aren’t you?” Although he dropped the one hand from his throat, he didn’t let go of his cheek entirely. Instead, he carded his fingers through his hair, letting the strands hide that half of his face. “She said you were overseas.”
“I was.” Scott stepped fully into the house and shut the door behind him before setting his duffel on the floor. He was careful to keep his movements slow. He’d dealt with petrified villagers plenty of times and knew he had to prove that he wasn’t a danger to them. Build trust. While he was at a loss as to why exactly, he could sense this man needed the same kind of consideration.
“I just got back and have two weeks’ leave.” Not that it had been his idea.
“Take the time, Carpenter. There’s no shame in needing it after what you’ve been through.”
“Yes, sir.”
He’d known an order when he’d been given one, but he still felt some guilt about lying around on a beach while others were out there fighting on his behalf. He pushed those thoughts aside to deal with the more pressing matter. Before he could ask the who, what and why, the naked man was talking again.
“I guess Karen didn’t know that. She said I could stay here until she comes up with her kids.” He dropped his gaze, while still tugging at his hair in nervous fashion.
Scott approached the kitchen area, again keeping his movements slow and non-threatening. “I was going to call her later.” He stopped and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I’m sorry. You have me at a disadvantage. Do I know you?”
The young man flashed his gaze at him before skittering it away. Now that he was closer, Scott could see that his eyes weren’t entirely brown. There was a hint of green there as well. Hazel, he supposed, although he’d never given much thought to eye color before. He forced himself to focus on them, however, because the alternative was to stare farther south. There was a temptation to sneak peeks at parts of the man’s body. He’d always studiously avoided that urge before. He saw more naked men than he did women, that was for sure, and in a military environment where privacy was non-existent, one had to be respectful. Inside a quaint New England house, with the muted dawn shining through the window, making everything soft and almost romantic, the nudity was harder to ignore.
“I’m Kitt Tyler.”
Scott’s attention was tugged back to Kitt’s face—although really, to his lips. He couldn’t help noticing how plump and pink they were. ‘Generous’ was the word that came to mind, like those of old-time movie starlets—the type of mouth that combat men dreamed of kissing as they lay in their makeshift beds. It was what got them up again, fighting for their country. That observation startled him even more. What the hell is my problem? Exhaustion, that was all. What he needed was a solid eight horizontal hours uninterrupted, and that wasn’t going to happen until he wrapped up this unexpected meet-and-greet.
“You’re a friend of Karen’s?” Kind of a dumb question.
Kitt gnawed briefly at his lower lip, once again drawing Scott’s unwilling attention to that spot. “Yeah, I am, but also her hairdresser. I mean, that’s how we first met, and we’ve become friends, too. You know?”
No, Scott didn’t…at all. The last thing he and his sister ever talked about was hair styling, although she always looked great. He knew that she prided herself on being elegant and fashionable for her job as a publisher for some glossy, high-end magazine. She had him on her subscription list, which was sweet, except it all went straight into his trash. What did he care about trendy places to eat in Boston and the best store for thousand-thread-count sheets?
“Anyway,” the guy continued, still playing with his hair and darting his gaze around. “She has like a million pictures of you at home, so I recognized you straight off.”
Not exactly true. For a moment, when he’d turned and caught sight of Scott, Kitt had obviously been afraid. Of what? Scott wondered. Or rather…whom?
Scott ran a hand over his head. The need for sleep was overtaking his initial and visceral reaction to this unexpected guest. “I’m sure she’s bored you to tears with stories about me, too.” His sister was proud of his service, although he feared that she’d put him on a pedestal he didn’t deserve, certainly not after this last deployment.
A ghost of a smile graced Kitt’s lips. That was the moment when it hit Scott that this young man was utterly gorgeous—at a he-could-be-a-model level. Although, he was probably too short for that profession. He was about five-seven, just the right height to tuck into Scott’s shoulder. The new observations sent his brain into another unwanted spasm of discord.
“She has a bit, but I think it’s great how close you two are.” Releasing his hold on his hair, Kitt fluttered his hands and shifted his feet. “Anyway, I’ll pack up and get out of your way. It, um, might take a while for me to get a Lyft driver to come here this early, though. I hope that’s okay.”
“You don’t have a car?” Another stupid question. The driveway had been empty when he’d pulled up.
“No. Um, no.” Kitt stared at the floor again.
Scott could see the distress in the guy’s posture and read it in his expression. He knew when someone was afraid, nervous or angry, even when they tried to hide it from him. He could tell when they were lying about something. Kitt Tyler wasn’t merely a friend of his sister who needed a free summer vacation. There was more to it than that, and given the guy’s skittishness and that bruise on his cheek, Scott could make an educated guess what that more was.
For the moment, however, he was incapable of any further rational thought. He needed that eight hours, then he’d deal with the situation.
“Look,” he said, repressing a yawn. “I’ve been awake for over forty-eight hours straight. I’m going upstairs to get some sleep. No need for you to leave yet. We’ll talk later.”
Kitt’s relief was easy to see. Still, he said, “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Scott turned to retrieve his duffel bag from by the door.
“Oh, I should get dressed now so that I don’t disturb you.”
Too late on that score. “I can sleep through anything, but thanks.”
He made himself not watch as Kitt flitted up the stairs. He didn’t rush when he followed, either, so that he wouldn’t see any more of that undeniably tantalizing flesh. His plan worked. By the time he’d reached the second floor, his sister’s guest had disappeared into the far back room. The sounds of a drawer opening and closing drifted down the narrow hallway. Scott bit back a groan when he realized that Kitt had taken his usual room. That thought had barely formed before the guy popped back out, wearing crotch-hugging cut-off jeans and a tight white crop top. The clothing wasn’t much better than the nudity had been at hiding the guy’s fit physique. Oh, and bonus, now that Scott wasn’t studiously averting his gaze, he could see a belly button ring winking from the flat stomach.
“I took one of the kid’s rooms, if that’s okay?” Kitt looked impossibly young himself. What was the minimum age to be a hairdresser, eighteen? The guy must be straight out of school.
Scott didn’t bother to correct him. Visions of Kitt lying in Scott’s bed were already creeping into his brain. Instead, he waved the issue away and turned into what had been his parents’ old room. Karen and her husband used it now, but she obviously wasn’t coming up any time soon. He may as well bed down in it. He kicked the door shut with more force than he’d intended, but the lure of the big brass bed was irresistible. Stumbling toward it, he did as he’d dreamed of for hours—fell face-down onto the quilt his grandmother had made. He had just enough brainpower left to kick off his sneakers before giving in to the pull of sleep.
His last thought, however, was of the pretty boy at the end of the hall, silhouetted by the glint of the rising sun.
Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.
She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don’t understand why they can’t read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.
Giveaway
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When Brayden stumbles into a covert operation, Sam has to keep him alive. Together they navigate their unexpected attraction and the world of the Ukrainian mafia.
Brayden Hart needs to find his older brother Mason and time is running out. Mason disappeared after being discharged from the military two years before. While on leave from the army, Bray follows a lead his friend has been able to find. When he knocks on the door of a dingy apartment outside Miami, the last person he expects to meet is the gorgeous but grumpy Sam Wheeler.
Sam denies knowing Bray’s brother and turns him away. But Sam is Bray’s only lead. Luckily, Bray’s childhood friend is one of the best hackers in the country and helps Bray follow Sam to Ukraine.
In Kiev, Bray falls blindly into the fray of a covert operation and Sam steps in to keep him alive. While navigating the choppy waters of the Ukrainian mafia, Bray and Sam fall into the bedroom. But what happens when the mission ends?
Reader advisory: This book contains references to historical rape, child sexual abuse and sex trafficking. There are also scenes of violence.
Excerpt
“Look, kid. I got nothing to tell you.”
Bray pulled his gaze from the full lips he’d been watching as the man in the doorway, Sam, gave a flat refusal. He took a deep, calming breath and willed away his body’s response. Maybe he needed to back up a little and explain the urgency of the situation. He didn’t have a lot of time to find Mase, and this Sam guy was his best bet.
The guy blocking the doorway would be hot if his eyebrows weren’t pinched together so tight and his big, full lips weren’t turned down. Hell, he was still hot, even in full intimidation mode.
Sam’s honey-blond hair was longer on top and styled high. His groomed beard was just a few shades darker than the hair on his head and hinted at the tiniest bit of red highlights. Bray lowered his eyes again to Sam’s lips. Both were plump, but the top lip was a little fuller than the bottom one. That was rare, in Bray’s experience, but sexy as hell.
The tic in the jaw next to those lips brought Bray back to the matter at hand. He looked up into Sam’s cinnamon-brown eyes as he considered his options.
“I know you’re working with Mase and I have to find him. I’m—”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about, but I have shit to do.”
Sam tried to close the old, paint-chipped door in Bray’s face, but Bray stepped forward, using his foot as a doorstop. He wouldn’t give up that easily. Bray needed to untie his tongue and keep on task, no matter how sexy the guy was.
“Please, I don’t have a lot of time. I just need to talk to him.”
“Look, kid—”
“I’m not a kid. I know he’s pulled some crazy stunts since he got kicked out—”
“You don’t know shit, kid. If you just got kicked out of the military and you’re looking for camaraderie and a job, forget it.”
As soon as Sam said the word ‘military’, Bray breathed a sigh of relief. Sam swore under his breath. So the guy definitely knew his brother. Sam flexed his huge biceps as he crossed his arms. His head dipped to one side as he leaned forward. Bray swallowed then a tiny breath escaped his lips as he imagined the man before him leaning in to steal a kiss. Was this guy Mase’s boyfriend? If so, his brother was one lucky bastard.
“Move your foot. Like I said, kid, you don’t know shit,” Sam ground out through clenched teeth.
“Just tell me what’s going on. Is he okay? If he’d returned any of my emails over the past two and half years, maybe I’d know more about what was happening.”
“You think I can help you?”
Bray gave one sharp nod of confirmation. Sam blew a breath out between his lush lips and dropped his arms to his sides. The crease between his brows eased a bit as he seemed to really look at Bray for the first time. He looked over Bray’s head down the hallway for a moment before coming to some kind of decision.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Bray, Brayden Hart.”
There was a pause. Bray assumed it was Sam digesting Bray’s last name, Mase’s last name.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I got nothing for you, Mr. Hart.”
“How’d you know I was in the army?”
“You got it written all over you, from your close-cropped cut to your military stance.” The guy rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’ve got things to do, kid, so do you mind moving your foot—or do I need to move it for you?”
Bray wet his dry lips as he contemplated his choices. He could call Max for another favor, but if he went that route, he’d need this part to be believable.
“I can just sit out here and wait until he comes home.”
“You’ll be waiting the rest of your life, kid.”
“It’s Bray or Brayden, and I think you have a really good idea when you’ll be talking to Mase again.”
Looking over Sam’s shoulder, Bray took in the shit-hole apartment with its dingy brown carpet and walls so old that the wallpaper was peeling at the corners along the ceiling. A ceiling with tiles that had different-sized brown rings, a sure sign of water damage. Was this how Mase was living now? The thought made Bray’s gut twist uncomfortably.
If Mase needed money… Bray shook his head. Mase would never be the one to reach out, which was exactly why Bray was standing in the hallway that smelled like piss mixed with broccoli farts. Unless the inside of the apartment smelled better, he didn’t see how anyone could even think about putting a morsel of food into their mouth in this place.
If by chance Sam did talk to Mase before Brayden could get to him, he had to figure out a message most likely to get a response. Would Mase come home or even return a call if he knew the truth? Probably not. Bray bit his lip as he waffled. He didn’t like lying, and he especially didn’t like lying to family. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive his father for his ‘little white lie’.
“When you see him, tell him Nickel needs him. Tell him it’s looking like it might be life or death.”
Both those statements taken separately were absolutely one hundred percent true. Nick might deny he needed their older brother, but he and Bray were twins. Bray knew they both required all the support they could get.
When Mase heard those statements together, Bray knew what he’d assume, and he’d have to apologize for it later. For now, he decided it was the best route. He had a feeling Sam would repeat those statements verbatim to his brother.
“Nickel?” Sam asked.
“Nick, my twin.”
“Twins? There’re two of you running around wreaking havoc?”
“Nick wreaks more havoc and we’re not identical, so there aren’t exactly two of me.”
Sam’s only response was a raised eyebrow.
“So you’ll tell him?”
“I’m sorry. There’s no way I can help you,” Sam said with the shake of his head.
Even though Bray was anxious, he hesitated before lifting his foot. He needed Sam to think he was reluctant to leave. Sam was only a couple inches taller than Bray’s five-foot-eleven-inch frame, but he hunched down a little, so they were eye to eye.
“I can’t help you,” Sam said again.
Bray swallowed as energy began to hum under his skin at the man’s direct stare. He couldn’t be lusting after his brother’s boyfriend. Wetting his dry lips one last time, Bray nodded and lifted his foot. The two men stared at each other for a moment longer, until the sound of a baby screaming somewhere down the hall had Bray turning his head. Before he could even suck in another breath, the door in front of him slammed shut and the lock snicked into place.
With a dejected sigh, Brayden looked at the door for another minute. Guilt had his stomach tightening into knots. He couldn’t afford to stand around, though his hesitation to leave would probably work in his favor in case Sam was watching through the peephole.
When he pushed open the door of the building a few minutes later, Bray sucked in some of the fresh air. He didn’t even care that his clothes immediately glued themselves to his body with the humidity Florida was famous for. He was just glad to be out of the stench that had pressed down on him inside the apartment building.
After one last glance at the second floor, Bray walked down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. As soon as he was in his rental car, he dialed Max’s number.
“How’d it go?” Max said.
“He wouldn’t even admit he knew Mase.”
There was silence on the other end. Max had warned him against making contact with Sam. He’d suggested following him until he led Bray to Mase, but Bray didn’t have that kind of time.
“So, it looks like you were right,” Bray admitted.
There was still silence on the other end of the line.
“Look, Sin. I still need help.”
Bray always struggled calling his friend by his pseudonym. Even though it stood for Super Intel Nerd, calling a nerdy guy like Max, Sin seemed funny to Bray.
“Next time listen to me. You’ve now ruined the advantage of surprising him.”
“Fine. Can you find out where he’s going?”
“Of course I can.”
Bray could hear the light click-clack of Max tapping on the keys of his laptop. Putting the phone on Bluetooth, Bray started his rental and pulled out of the parking spot behind Sam’s apartment building.
“Where’s he going?” Bray asked as he pulled out onto the street.
“I have him traveling out of Miami to Kiev tomorrow with a stopover in Munich.”
Bray tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. This had just gotten a lot more complicated and expensive than he’d anticipated. Was Mase undercover or was he in trouble? If he was in trouble, Bray wanted to be there.
“Looks like I’ll be heading to Kiev,” he sighed.
“I’ll book you a flight that stops over in DC. I’ve got something I want to give you if you’re going to Kiev.”
“I just have to check out of the hotel. Give me a couple of hours to get to the airport.”
Max disconnected the call without saying goodbye, but it didn’t surprise Bray at all. Max was always on to the next problem.
Rae has been secretly penning romances since high school. It started with short stories that grew into full-length novels. When she received her first Kindle and had thousands of books at her fingertips, she became a little distracted from writing. Then one day she read a book that she would have written a different way. She began writing again and hasn’t stopped since.
When she’s not writing, Rae can usually be found reading, walking along the beaches of Half Moon Bay, or taking her geriatric dog to the vet, yet again.
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Author Kelly Collins takes you back to Aspen Cove where life is sweet, the tea is sweeter, and love is the sweetest of all.
Marina Caswell didn’t expect to find herself broken and alone with a four-year-old daughter. She could offer a hundred excuses as to why her marriage failed, but the truth was she’d chosen poorly. After a painful marriage and an ugly divorce, she flees with her little girl to Aspen Cove looking for a place to heal their wounded spirits and mend their shattered hearts. What she doesn’t expect to find in the quirky little town is love in the form of Sheriff Cooper, a man who insists that everything including trust, love, and respect is grown like a garden. All it needs is a bit of attention and care, something Marina has never experienced.
As the local sheriff, Aiden Cooper can recognize trouble at a glance. It usually looks pretty, smells nice, and wears heels. After his last relationship failure, Aiden doesn’t expect love to bloom when single mom Marina Caswell plants roots next door, but when he sees the sadness in her eyes, he makes it his mission to sow seeds of hope and happiness in her heart.
The tiniest kernel of love can grow when the conditions are right, but a weed from Marina’s past threatens to choke out what they’ve cultivated together. Can Aiden and Marina’s love grow and thrive, or will the past seek its revenge, causing their love to wilt and die before it can ever take root?
One Hundred Excuses is a light read, even with the domestic abuse theme. I’ve found most books falling into that category have a bit more suspense and action. This one was very light on both. Or perhaps that’s because I had a hard time reading the book as the character and not an outside observer. It was almost as if someone was telling me the events, so I didn’t feel like I’d been immersed in the story. While there is sex, it isn’t overly hot. I did find the romance between Marina and Aiden to be sweet, and I adored Kellyn.
If you want a quick read to give you that feel-good boost, then you may very well enjoy One Hundred Excuses.
*Disclaimer: The above review is only my opinion. Neither the author nor publisher requested a review. I purchased this title from Amazon.
Going from a professional baseball player to a SWAT officer should’ve been seamless. Should have been.
But it wasn’t.
All it took was one single calendar shoot for word to spread that Nathan Cox was not only no longer playing professional baseball, but he was also the man behind saving the life of Reggie Morton, the City of Kilgore’s princess.
***
Reggie didn’t know that by agreeing to provide the expertise and the know-how for the Police Officer’s Ball that she would be required to actually attend the function.
What she also didn’t expect was needing to be saved—again—by the same man that had saved her life a year ago when she hosted her debut event.
This time in a not-nearly-as-spectacular way. The moment she falls into his arms like a modern-day Cinderella and takes him in in all his three-piece suited glory, she realizes that she’s been fighting the impossible.
Officially Over It is another home run for Ms. Vale. It delivers everything readers have come to expect from her books — drama, action, romance… and chapter headings that make you laugh (and sometimes accidentally snort whatever you’re drinking). You’ll want to scream at the evil villain, cry when all hope seems lost, and sigh with utter contentment when the hero and heroine get their happily-ever-after.
Reggie is strong, determined, and a badass in her own way. Nathan is charming, handsome, and 100% alpha male. What’s not to love about these two?
Get ready for a rollercoaster ride because Officially Over It will have you turning the pages through the ups and downs, eager to find out what happens next!
About Lani Lynn Vale
Lani Lynn Vale is a Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.
When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.
Lani is married with three children and lives in the Great State of Texas.
He should’ve never left his house. He should’ve stayed at home. He has a legitimate excuse—he’s running a fever and he’s fairly sure he’s developing pneumonia. He should have called in sick…but he doesn’t.
He goes to work, because his team is relying on him.
First, he has to sign about eight thousand calendars—all from women who purchased said calendars to benefit the Fallen Officer fundraiser. And when he’s done with that, he has to endure a television interview along with the rest of the SWAT team seeing as they made national news with their ‘Hot SWAT’ calendar that’s sold a million copies to women all over the world.
Needless to say, when Samuel Adams walks into the pharmacy hours later, he only has one thing on his mind. Ibuprofen.
Sadly, he never gets to the Ibuprofen. Mostly because before he gets there, he finds a junkie waving a gun around threatening to kill anybody that moves.
He’s running a fever. That has to be the reason that the girl in the corner begins cursing up a storm and drawing the junkie’s attention. Has to be.
***
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
She tells herself to take a deep breath. Tells herself that she needs to calm down. Tells herself that if she doesn’t get her act under control, things are going to get ugly.
And, of course, that’s when the curse words start flying.
The more nervous she gets, the worse her Tourette’s becomes. Which is, of course, why she stands up and gives the man a perfect target.
Thank God that the coughing giant in the corner makes the same move and saves her life.
And how does she repay him? By calling him every awful word in the dictionary.
Lani Lynn Vale is a Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author of over thirty titles. She is married with three children, two dogs, two cats, a donkey, and a couple (a couple also meaning over twenty) chickens.
When she’s not writing, you can find her curled up in her favorite chair reading.
Lani is married with three children and lives in the Great State of Texas.
Ms. Vale has done it again! I keep saying there’s no way she can top the last book, and yet with every new release she proves me wrong. Now, I never like to give things away in my reviews, so there won’t be spoilers… if you want all the gritty details, go read the book!
I love that our heroine, Hastings, has a noticeable difference to others around her. She’s struggled and at times feels awkward or embarassed even though it’s out of her control. Even better? Our hero accepts her as she is, and takes her Tourette’s in stride. Could their possibly be a sweeter man? Sammy is perfect for her in every way. He’s the alpha male she’s always dreamed of, and while they do have a few hiccups along the way because of miscommunication, it’s clear he adores her.
Add in some suspense, a few heartbreaking moments, and a romance that makes your toes curl and you have one hell of a book you won’t be able to put down — I know I couldn’t!
*Disclaimer: I received an ARC of this title for an honest reivew. The review above is strictly my opinion.
For years Riley has been trying to tempt her brother’s best friend into a relationship. She knows Heath has feelings for her, yet he continually thwarts her attempts to seduce him. When he finally agrees to one night with her, he puts steep stipulations on their involvement. Is Riley willing to meet his conditions, knowing it’s only one night?
The night Riley shows up unannounced at his house, shock keeps Heath from turning her away. After that first taste Heath knows he needs to distance himself, but when he shows up to her brother’s engagement party with another woman, he wonders if this time he’s gone too far.
Riley put the car in park, looked up at the darkened house, and for the tenth time told herself this wasn’t a bad idea.
She couldn’t believe she’d let Scott pawn off the job of watching his friend’s cat while her brother went away with his girlfriend for the weekend. But Heath was out of town and would never know she’d been sneaking around his house.
Not that she planned to snoop. No. She was just here to give the cat some company.
An argument could be made that because it was the middle of the night she really shouldn’t be there. But Heath was away. He’d never know. So what was the harm?
Hopping from the car, she headed for the front door, her purse in one hand, the spare key in the other. She’d already been to see the cat that morning. She’d spent an hour playing with Sage before feeding her and giving her fresh water. Riley had felt bad leaving the poor thing alone, but it felt weird to be in Heath’s home when he wasn’t there. Hell, it was weird to be in his home at all. He made a point to never invite her over.
On multiple occasions he’d made it clear her interest in him was one-sided. He’d actively avoided her since the dreadful night she’d asked him out. Not that he’d allowed her to get close to him before that.
The porch was dark, so Riley struggled a bit to fit the key in the lock. She looked over her shoulder again. Midnight wasn’t the safest time to be out alone.
It was probably a mistake, but after the disaster of a date she’d just endured, she didn’t relish the idea of going home to her empty apartment. She’d rather curl up on the sofa in Heath’s living room and cuddle with his cat.
It wasn’t like she was going through his sock drawer to see how many condoms he kept stocked in his house. She wasn’t going to sniff his shirts or peek in his closets. She was just doing what her brother had asked. Checking in on Sage.
She pushed open the door, and using the light from the street, set the key on the table by the door. Quietly she shut the door and turned to search for the light switch.
That was when someone grabbed her.
Riley screamed, but it did her no good as she was shoved face-first against the wall. Something cold and hard was pressed against her back. A gun. Aimed right between her shoulder blades.
Her purse fell to the floor.
A gruff voice cut through the darkness. “Don’t move.”
“Oh… okay,” she said on a shaky breath. She pressed her eyelids together and tried not to tremble. Who the hell had broken into Heath’s house? Who was dumb enough to break into a cop’s home?
Quickly, yet thoroughly, his large hand began to roam over her. The gun was still shoved against her skin, as his palm shifted down her side, then slipped beneath the hem of her dress to inspect her thighs, and the space between them.
Confused and scared, Riley swallowed.
She tried not to jerk away from the hand as it frisked her. It was intimate, yet professional. Whoever he was, he was fast and practiced. He knew what he was looking for. He wouldn’t find any weapons on her. She never carried a weapon, and in her little black dress she wouldn’t even know where to hide one.
His hand skimmed along her other side and up to her bust.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” The hand paused on her breast. “Who are you?”
“Please, I…” Slowly his words sank in. Her panicked tone vanished. “Your house? Heath?”
Surprised, he replied, “Riley?”
“Oh, thank God.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? It’s my house! What the hell are you doing breaking into my house? It’s damn near midnight!”
It was after midnight, but she wasn’t about to correct him. “I came to look after Sage. Scott’s out of town and asked me to look in on her.” Riley tried to relax her stance. Her hands were still against the wall and his gun was still pressed against her. His warm palm still cradled her breast. “Can you put the gun away, please?”
The metal was removed. He placed the gun next to where she’d set his house key. “No way did Scott mean for you to come here so late at night. What the hell, Riley? Were you looking to snoop around my place?”
She swallowed. He was pissed. And rightly so. She’d probably scared him half to death, but he’d done the same to her. “I was coming home from a date and thought I’d stop by to check on her.”
“She’s a cat. She’d be fine until morning.”
“Right.” Of course she would be. Riley failed to mention her own need for company, for someone to talk to. No way would she admit to Heath that she was lonely. “You aren’t supposed to be back yet.”
“I came home a day early. I was in bed when I heard the front door open. What was Scott thinking by sending you?”
“Sorry. I’ll go.” Riley tried not to let her hurt show. She could cry when she got home. It wasn’t like she had much else to do. Then a thought occurred to her. Was he alone in bed, or did he have some random girl here? He always seemed to have a different date each time she saw him. “I’ll let you get back to whoever you left in bed.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her tone.
“I was alone in bed.” His hand tightened on her boob. “Naked, alone, and enjoying a nice little dream, until I was woken up by someone sneaking into my house.”
Naked? Wait. “I wasn’t sneaking!” she protested.
He rested his other palm on the wall, next to hers. His chest pressed against her back. In her ear he whispered, “What would you call it, then?”
She didn’t know if they’d ever stood this close before. She gulped. “Your hand is on me.” She wanted to smack herself in the head. Way to play it cool.
“You want me to move it?” He almost sounded excited, turned-on. It gave her hope. Hope she knew better than to have.
She closed her eyes. She could smell his aftershave.
Title: Passion, Pleasure, Pain: An anthology of Dominance and submission
Release Date: February 14, 2019
Cover Art: Lesli Richardson
Editors: Sandy Ebel from Personal Touch Editing, Ekatarina Sayanova from Red Quilled Editing LLC, Tracy Damron-Roelle
Keywords: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Dominance Submission D/s, MF, MM, Gay, Historical, Voyeurism, Spanking, Apparatus, Bondage, Interracial, Older hero/heroine, Transgender, Futanari, May/December, Addiction, Dark, MMF, Political romance, Political fiction, Governor Trilogy, Ménage, Shifters, Hotshot, Fire Fighter, Wildfire, Friends to Lovers
In each other they found the piece of themselves they hadn’t even realized was missing.
This D/s anthology was put together by writers who hold author, Doris O’Connor, near and dear to their hearts because the genre is one that was near and dear to Doris as an author. #F*ckCancer #WeLoveDoris
My entire life is one bold-faced, fucking lie. Son of Victor Laurent and sole heir to the entire Laurent fortune built up from a few great grandfathers back in the Civil War times, I’ve been raised—groomed—to be the perfect Southern gentleman. Proper and full of self-control, a man who can keep hold on the vices that help me live my daily life of pure, fucking drudgery.
I know what it means to be controlling not just of myself but of the woman who will one day kneel at my feet. The one who belongs to me, however, is promised to another—and claiming what is mine could cost me everything.
Author Bio:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy 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.
Alixandre Chastain enjoys the darker side of Paris. A Libertine by trade, no flesh is barred from his roaming hands, no matter what lay betwixt their legs. Except when news of his lustful ways reaches his God-fearing parents, they strip him of title and cast him out. Alixandre’s now adrift and with an uncertain future, but an interesting proposition by Comte Phelipe Richelien promises to replace everything he lost with a new world of decadent pleasure like no other. But can Alixandre submit to his new Master? And will his guarded heart be laid bare by one spoken word—Alabaster.
Author Bio:
Kastil Eavenshade is multi-published author pandering her romantic shenanigans. When not catering to the whims of three rescued kitties, she’s dreaming up her next heart-beating tale. No period in history–past, present, or future–is safe from the clutches of her muse.
Her passions beyond writing are drawing, cooking, and watching Pittsburgh Penguins hockey. She credits her parents for her free spirit as they’ve always supported her in every aspect of her life. Without them, she wouldn’t be here. She finds pleasure in writing anything from fantasy to romance-which sometimes parallel each other.
Camilla Maria Campanelli. I’d caught glimpses of the woman when she popped into my Manhattan gallery—there to collect a commission for the paintings we sold for her. So let’s just say I never expected the wet-dream version of Camilla to sashay into Indigo House, an exclusive member’s only club that catered to very specific clientele with extremely particular desires.
Camilla
The night I stepped out on my balcony, I hadn’t intended to be a voyeur though I ended up being one. And what shocked me even more than my uncharacteristic behavior? I’d actually been aroused watching two strangers get their kink on. But I wasn’t into D/s. I’d never even read those Fifty Shades books all my sisters went on and on about.
So why was I affected?
I needed some real, solid answers. And there was only one way to do that.
Author Bio:
London Saint James has lived in many places but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, international bestselling author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.
Barry Reid never imagined becoming friends with three Doms and their subs would change his life so dramatically. When he settled into marriage and family life with his wife, Meg, he set aside his dominant tendencies, happy to lead a vanilla life. With Meg’s newfound interest in BDSM it’s up to Barry to connect with his inner Dom and figure out how they can make the lifestyle work for them—even if it’s only in the bedroom.
Author Bio:
Jan Graham is an author of Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. Her stories contain erotic elements, with some including elements of BDSM. She has numerous published titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of procrastination. Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads, feeds her Netflix addiction and drinks coffee with friends.
For those who enjoy labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a submissive, an aunt, dyslexic, a lover of all things tempting and naughty (including chocolate), a participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and sometimes a wild child.
In short, she is generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center. You can find out more about Jan and her work by visiting the following links.
Wealthy, charismatic, influential and damn near immortal, Lukan Løvensgård looks like natural Dom material, and in fact he has never, but never submitted to anyone in his long life. But among all the bizarre and fantastic people roaming the far planet of Cydonia, there is one who stole his old, cold heart.
Her love comes at a price. Complete surrender.
With her impressive presence and unusual equipment, Helenay is the hottest and trendiest professional Domme in Neu Venedig and she hardly has the time to top for pleasure these days. But she knows what her old friend Lukan needs, something he never suspected. Release from power.
Author Bio:
I have entered that age when looking at beautiful male models in their prime probably makes me a cougar, ahem.
Almost all my heroines are short: that’s because I look at the world from hobbit level. Being so small I am three times more concentrated (read: obsessive) than anybody I know. I am exhaustingly creative in writing, arts, crafts… Sometimes my brain gets friction burns from hurtling at such speed from one universe to the next.
I love animals, plants, and occasionally even people.
Like Highlander I come from a lot of different places. I was born in Italy but lived here and there and consider myself simply and deeply European. I love Europe passionately, its antiquity, its diversity, its quirkiness. All my books are set in Europe, or alternate versions of it.
Major Oliver Cantor, newly back from the continent, has always wanted Deborah. However she is an innocent. A lady who has no idea just what Oliver wants, needs and desired.
Or does she?
She knows he is dominant and wants someone to be his submissive.
She also knows it should be her.
Now all she has to do is persuade him of that fact.
You’d think it would be easy, but…
Author Bio:
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
Her very understanding, and long-suffering DH, is used to his questions unanswered, the dust bunnies greeting him as he walks through the door, and rescuing burned offerings from the Aga. (And passing her a glass of wine as she types furiously.)
Charlie has never been in love because he’s never believed in happily ever after. He prides himself on being a good friend and a good Dom, and that’s always been enough for him, except lately nothing feels right. He doesn’t know if he’s having a mid-life crisis or what, but his best friend suddenly looks hot as hell, and nothing about that is normal.
Ryan’s straight friend Charlie has always had his back: when he came out, when he got married, and when his husband died. He’d do anything for the guy he’s been secretly in love with forever. So when Charlie suddenly proposes a spanking scene under the guise of “relaxing” him, he almost runs the opposite direction. Except, what if this is his one chance to finally show Charlie what real love feels like?
Author Bio:
Erin M. Leaf is a romance novel devotee, the steamier the better, with a specialty in edgy erotic tension.
Ex-boxer Mike Logan struggles to put a brutal past behind and make ends meet as a bus driver. When a young runaway settles for an all-night ride, he seizes the chance to do a good deed—get her home safely. But first, they’ll drive around and talk.
What he doesn’t anticipate is that this broken night angel is also a sexy little minx needing a lot more…and not just the gentle kind.
Author Bio:
Award-winning author Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, historical romance, and dark erotic romance.
As chief of staff to the governor of Florida, Carter has a well-deserved rep as a bastard extraordinaire. But when he’s dealing with two governors for the price of one on Christmas Eve, will the Master find himself outmatched and outmaneuvered by his wily political pets?
Note: This standalone short story takes place after Chief (Governor Trilogy 3) and can be read as a standalone independent from the trilogy.
Author Bio:
Author Lesli Richardson, who is better-known by her more prolific wild-child Tymber Dalton pen name, lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets. She writes a wide variety of heat levels and genres, from mainstream sci-fi all the way to scorching ménage.
The two-time EPIC award winner and part-time Viking shield-maiden in training loves to shoot skeet and play D&D with her friends. She’s also the bestselling author of over one hundred and fifty books and counting, including The Reluctant Dom, the Governor Trilogy, the Suncoast Society series, the Love Slave for Two series, the Triple Trouble series, and many others.
She lives in her own little world, but it’s okay—they all know her there.
Mallory Brown doesn’t go home with strangers, and while she’s all for a great spanking, she doesn’t do BDSM relationships. Fantasizing is more her speed. And when she catches a glimpse of Master Murphy, fantasies fill her brain.
But Master Murphy has other plans. He enters her life full-steam and won’t take no for an answer. While she’s compelled to say yes, is she really ready to say goodbye to her world as she knows it to become permanently entwined with His?
Author Bio:
Ely Valey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.
When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab and Golden Retriever mix, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends and family.
Cain Silvers is the Captain of one of the nation’s best Hotshot fire fighter groups there is, and his world has turned upside-down when his best friend’s kid sister, Chloe Crowley joins the team. Chloe has always made him uneasy with her attraction to him, something he refused to act on because of who she was and how innocent she is.
Chloe wants to make a difference in the world, and following her passion to become one of the few females in an all-male industry is just the start. She’s set on proving herself to her team, but still follows her own rules, ones that could get her into a lot of trouble.
Passion collides with desire in their story, leading up to actions that could burn everybody.
Author Bio:
DC Stone has over sixteen years of investigative experience, including working as a criminal investigator in the United States military. She currently works as an internal affairs investigation manager by day and a romantic suspense author by night. She has her Master’s degree in Criminal Justice and is dubbed, “The Investigative Whisper.” She provides numerous workshops that help authors gain insight into “digging” into a character’s mind to better understand motives, create suspense, and help maintain conflict.
When she isn’t trying to solve a new puzzle in the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and all those crazy characters in her head. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, RomVets, RWA Kiss of Death, and the Liberty State Fiction Writers. She served as the 2014 Vice President and Conference Chair for NJRW. Find her at the following stops: Facebook PAGE, Facebook PROFILE, Twitter, and her Website.
The heart always knows the way.
