Hero Interview: Brian Harrison from the Vasquez Inc. series #bookcharacters #romancebooks

 

Everyone please give a warm welcome to Brian Harrison from the Vasquez Inc series, including the latest installment A Shot at Perfect by Lou Sylvre. He’s graciously agreed to answer a few questions for us. Are you as excited as I am to find out more about Brian? *rubs hands together* Then let’s get to it!

Brian, thank you for joining us today!

Thanks for having me! It’s not often I get to speak to readers myself, so it’s a rare opportunity.

If there was one thing in your life you could change, what would it be?

Well, hmm. I don’t know if I should say this, because I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I think I’d like to leave Los Angeles. I mean, Luki Vasquez—my boss—has been really good to me, and he offered me this position, managing the LA office of his security firm, Vasquez Inc. It’s good pay, we have an apartment to live in without having to shell out LA’s sky-high rents, and it’s never too cold out. But LA’s been crazy ever since we got here—Jackie and I—last year. We’ve been the target of some bad criminal stuff, and Jackie’s had a couple of accidents—bad enough to change our lives. Thing is, though, even saying I want to leave this city—I wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until we get the bad guys, as Luki would say. And first we have to find them.

Do you have any regrets when it comes to Jackie Vasquez?

Good question. You know, in a way I regret that he was out on his own in this city’s traffic, riding a bicycle, when he had his first accident. And I sort of regret not keeping closer tabs on him—I didn’t even know where he was when the second one happened. Shit, even before that, I regret leaving him alone so much of the time in London before we moved here—he almost got killed by a psychopath. But in reality, I can’t regret those things because they weren’t really under my control. I’m a Dom, but not the sort that wants to be a 24/7 Master, and Jackie’s not that kind of sub. We’re D/s mostly when we’re in the playroom. He doesn’t want someone taking control of his life, and I guess I wouldn’t do that if he did want it. So I guess I took the long way around to get to this answer, but my real regret? I lost myself for a while after Jackie got hurt. I didn’t give Jackie what he needed, because I couldn’t get over my own fears. That made it more of a battle to get through the tough times—worse for both of us, but I especially regret the way it hurt him. He deserves better.

And then, hell,, I also regret putting my marriage proposal in a fortune cookie. Word of advice—never do that.

When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a cop. I went through a time in my late teens when I really waffled about that—cops get a lot of bad press, and a lot of the time they deserve it. Abuse of power and such. But then I realized that’s all the more reason the world needs good cops, fair and honest cops who are really looking out for people, helping to keep them safe. So yeah, that’s what I wanted to do. And I did—twice. What I do now—private security—isn’t so different, but I’m pretty sure being a cop again is still in my future. We’ll see.

What is your favorite memory?

Oh! Wow. Did not expect this question. I have to say my favorite memory is pretty recent, and of course it involves Jackie. He’s… beautiful, you know. Not just his looks, but the way he carries himself, his sense of humor, and he’s brilliant. He’s also a stubborn, devil boy who likes to push buttons now and then, but even that’s wonderful when I look at the whole package. Uh… Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. So my favorite memory… well, this is my favorite moment from my favorite memory… but why don’t I just let Lou show you. She wrote about it (she doesn’t respect our privacy at all) in A Shot of J&B.

They walked out after all the guests who weren’t staying left, Jackie leading him by the hand through an oak-covered trail with moonlight shining toward them from the open sky of the river. They settled in, opened their bottle of wine, and shared it along with good-natured silence, quiet words from time to time, and a loose embrace. Brian’s arm and larger form sheltered Jackie from a cool breeze off the river, and it added up to more than a friendly hug, but less than sex.

With about two-thirds of the wine gone, Brian set it aside and stood, then reached a hand down to help Jackie to his feet. He was about to suggest they walk back to the house before the family feared they’d fallen in, but facing Jackie, he saw a look in his eyes he couldn’t quite interpret. He seemed neither to plead nor demand, not even to expect, but something in his direct gaze, his slightly open lips, the tilt of his head — they added up to a question, and though Brian’s mind didn’t seem to know the language, his lips and body did.

He leaned in and grazed his lips across Jackie’s once, twice. When he straightened, Jackie’s eyes narrowed slightly, Jackie’s breath rushed out quickly and hitched, Jackie’s fingers fidgeted against his palms — all signs of distress. Brian took a half step back, not letting go of Jackie’s eyes, and held both his hands out between them, palm up.

“Give me your hands,” he said.

Jackie placed elegant fingers in Brian’s broad, strong palms, and when Brian closed them in a tight grip, the younger man’s entire being seemed to relax. Brian

pulled Jackie’s hands toward him and around his back, holding them there as he stepped forward until there was no space between them at all.

Do you have a favorite movie or song? Do you know Jackie’s favorite movie or song?

Well, it’s a little embarrassing, but my favorite movie is Hot Fuzz. (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425112/)

Jackie’s a little more of a romantic than me—also more out there in his tastes. (Don’t tell him I said that.) I don’t know his favorite movie, but a wild guess, it’s something like Too Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar. (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114682/) I do know his favorite song—or at least one of them, and it’s kind of a sad commentary. I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing this with you, but if you know anything about his history, you’ll understand why he… sort of feels the lyrics. The song is one Shawn Mendes sings, “In My Blood”.

What was it like the first time you kissed Jackie?

Huh. I have to laugh a little. You maybe expect me to say it was like, fireworks or starry skies or hearts and cupids and symphonic strains. It wasn’t. It was sweet. It was refreshing. It was like waking up to something bright and surprising and intriguing in the best way. But you know what? All I could think of to say was, “Thank you, Jackie. That was lovely.”

What was your first impression of Jackie?

You see, we met when he was just a kid—sixteen. I met him at his uncles’ wedding in Hawaii. I knew right from the start there was something special about him. He was all natural grace and unusual beauty, and I felt like there was some unidentifiable kind of connection between us. But even though I was only in my early twenties, at that age I couldn’t think of him as a potential partner. I wouldn’t allow myself to, but really it was more than that. I couldn’t think of him that way, but I also couldn’t get him off my mind, couldn’t shake the idea we were more-or-less fated to meet. I didn’t see him again for six years, but when I did I felt exactly the same.

Does Jackie have a pet? Do you get along?

Actually my cat, a rescue named Marley, loves Jackie more than he loves me. Also, we have a dog named Soldier. I rescued him, too, but right now he’s living in Washington State with Luki and Sonny—lots of room to run for him there, none where we live in LA. Truth is, he likes Jackie better than me, too. Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe they both just take me for granted, and on the other hand they know Jackie’s something special.

Do you like to read? What’s your favorite book?

I’ve always liked to read fiction, but I don’t do it a whole lot any more—a matter of time and business. When I was a kid I read lots of books about pirates, of all things. More recently I read those books Lou Sylvre (our author) wrote about Luki and Sonny—the Vasquez and James series. Fun! Because you know, Luki’s such a badass, but reading those books I found out all about his insecurities and soft spots. (Oh, don’t let him find out I said that, okay?)

Hey, thanks again for interviewing me. Made me think about stuff, and it’s been kind of fun. I like the idea of readers getting to know me a little bit. I’m afraid Lou isn’t always real nice to me in the books… sometimes she makes me look a little… well, never mind.

And there you have it folks, straight from Brian’s mouth… Now you know more about our hero from A Shot at Perfect by Lou Sylvre. If you’d like to purchase a copy, you’ll find the buy links below.

 

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Get the latest Vasquez Inc book HERE

 

Stalked Justice by Kate Allenton #suspense #thriller

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Months ago, I almost killed the man who kidnapped my sister, and now the FBI wants me to do it again.

A serial killer is striking at the height of spring break, and the FBI has only one lead—all of the dead women were left to look like me.

I’m the FBI’s last resort to track this deadly predator by using my special abilities.
Only this time, I’m tethered with a tracking device to watch my every move, and without weapons at my disposal.

Not to mention the FBI intends to use me as bait.

The only question left is whether I can outsmart the killer and survive when my name is sitting at the top of his hit list.

 

Get it on Amazon

Only $0.99 or borrow with Kindle Unlimited

 

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Book Blitz: Inherent Truth by Alicia Anthony #suspense #thriller

Inherent Truth
Alicia Anthony
(Blood Secrets, #1)
Publication date: January 14th 2020
Genres: Adult, Suspense

A woman with buried secrets…

An agent with an impossible mission…

An inheritance that will destroy them both…

When Liv Sullivan’s grandmother beckons for help from beyond the grave, the reluctant psychic returns to her small Ohio hometown. Scrambling to make sense of the clues left by the vision, Liv finds herself face to face with undercover agent, Ridge McCaffrey.

Assigned to protect a woman whose gifts unnerve him, for a covert psychic intelligence operation he doesn’t understand, Ridge struggles to place duty over desire. But when a gruesome discovery is unearthed at Sullivan Farm, the truth becomes clear…

Some family secrets are best left buried.

Inherent Truth is the first book in the gripping new Blood Secrets psychological thriller series about the cost of truth and the price we pay for love. If you like pulse-pounding page-turners laced with a touch of romance, and shocking twists that will leave you dying for the sequel, Alicia Anthony’s thrilling debut is for you.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT:

I was ten when I watched my cousin die. Granted, at the time I didn’t know the kid I’d seen through a light blue haze was a member of my family. To me, he was just a stranger, like all the rest. A specter sent from the depths of my brain to wake me up in the middle of the night. I still remember like it was yesterday.

The dream sent our household into a sleep deprived frenzy. Me, screaming for my parents to turn on the lights, tears running in rivers down flushed cheeks. My dad, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbed his hand in circles across my shoulders, consoling me. It took a long distance phone call the following morning for my mom and dad to understand that the dream had been more than a figment of my overactive imagination.

“How did it happen?” My mother’s voice was tight, wobbly as she spoke into the kitchen telephone receiver. It was the only one in the house that was still corded. I watched from the living room couch as she twisted the stretched curlicues of cord around her index finger.

When she slid into a chair at the kitchen table with her hand planted firmly over her lips, heaviness descended on the room, blanketing the air with cold finality. To this day I remember the lead weight in my chest, the struggle for breath. Maybe that’s what he’d felt in his last moments. My mother was still holding the phone in one hand when she turned to stare at me. Eyes wide with some emotion I couldn’t yet interpret. Now, sixteen years later, I can tell you for certain it was terror.

My sixteen-year-old cousin, Curt, had been killed racing home from a party to make curfew. I’d seen it all. Told my parents every detail. The skid on the damp roadway. The slam into a poorly placed telephone pole. Even the good Samaritans who’d stopped in the dead of night to try to dig him out of the twisted wreckage. Smoke filtered up from the heap of metal before I saw him, standing on the other side of the car, smiling at me.

“Tell Mom, I’m sorry,” he’d said. His voice cut short by the wail of a siren.

It’s funny. I can still picture that dream in lifelike detail. But now, instead of terror, there’s a peaceful comfort attached to the memory. I think that’s how it works for me. The visions can’t hold any power over me once I work them out–figure out how to help.

In those early days, I’d been scared senseless. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, flailing to turn a light on, to familiarize myself with reality again. For a while I slept with the bedside lamp on, hoping the luminescence would create some kind of barrier between this world and the next. It was my grandmother who helped me realize it was useless, of course. The dreams were a part of reality–my reality, anyway.

But that awareness of what my dreams were–what that made me–changed everything. The energy in our household sparked with frustration. My mother and father argued. Family outings trickled to a rare occurrence. My life consisted of school, home, homework, and bed, praying to whatever god would listen to let me sleep through the night. Every once in a while some deity would listen, most times, not. I learned to keep what I saw to myself. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Within two years, my mother had run through all the psychiatrists and magic pills she could find to make me normal again. By the time I was twelve, I was spending the majority of my time at my grandparents’ farm, away from the family I’d disgraced and the marriage I’d destroyed. At least, that’s how it seemed to twelve-year-old me.

“I will not allow my daughter to be a freak.” My mother’s words after a particularly heated exchange with my father regarding my condition are what drove me to become the Liv Sullivan I am today.

The “f” word, as I’d taken to calling it, hummed in my skull now, just as it had when I was a girl. Hunkered down on the steps of my parents’ home, eavesdropping through tears, the people I loved arguing about an affliction I didn’t fully understand and over which I had no control.

Of course, if it wasn’t for all of that, I might never have learned I had two choices in life–remain the small-town freak or reinvent myself as a big city fraud. I chose the latter, finding out pretty quick that the best place to hide was in plain sight.

 

Author Bio:

Alicia Anthony’s first novels were illegible scribbles on the back of her truck driver father’s logbook trip tickets. Having graduated from scribbles to laptop, she now pens novels of psychological suspense in the quiet of the wee morning hours. A full-time elementary school Literacy Specialist, Alicia hopes to pass on her passion for books and writing to the students she teaches.

A two time Golden Heart® finalist and Silver Quill Award winner, Alicia finds her inspiration in exploring the dark, dusty corners of the human experience. Alicia is a graduate of Spalding University’s School of Creative & Professional Writing (MFA), Ashland University (M.Ed.) and THE Ohio State University (BA). Go Bucks! She lives in rural south-central Ohio with her amazingly patient and supportive husband, incredibly understanding teenage daughter, two dogs, three horses, a plethora of both visiting and resident barn cats, and some feral raccoons who have worn out their welcome.

When she’s not writing or teaching, Alicia loves to travel and experience new places. Connect with her on Facebook or Instagram @AliciaAnthonyBooks. She’d love to hear from you!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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Broken Wings (Storm Crows MC) by Allegra Grey & Emily Sloan #bikerbooks #MCromance

 

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A dark country road leads newly-graduated Ashlyn Davis to the site of a terrible accident and the side of a dying man. Braving a storm and her total lack of internet or emergency training, she stays with him until help arrives. Under the blood and broken bones, her rescue is hot as hell and twice as forbidden. As the Vice President of the Storm Crows MC, Joker is danger personified, but Ash forges a friendship with him and finds the steadiness she desperately needs in the unlikeliest of places.

 

BUY LINKS

Evernight: http://bit.ly/2ToiSdz

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GRCbGM

Apple: https://apple.co/2OLR6Jd

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2KxHtZk

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2KnUVjE

 

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EXCERPT

The call connected as she got up the nerve to touch his throat again, this time daring to press against his damp, unconscious flesh. He had a pulse. Not strong, but present. The call dropped. “Merde, sheit, hell, dammit…”

Two more tries. First, the call dropped before it even rang. The next connected, buffered by the steady stream of frantic curses. “Please, you’ve got to hurry. It’s a bike wreck, and he’s… I don’t know how long he’s been here. His leg’s busted, and his arm’s pretty bad, too, and his helmet’s still on…”

The 911 lady sounded less than patient. “Well, can you tell me where you are?”

“No, I can’t!” she hissed. “My phone’s got GPS. Can’t you just find me?”

“The county hasn’t upgraded yet.”

Of course. Of freaking course. Why would Pharaoh County ever leave 1957? Panicked tears stung Ashlyn’s eyes, straining her voice. “I’m on the … County Maintenance 20 … North of Oak Grove.”

“How far?”

“I—I don’t know.  A little bit after Route A…”

“Is that where Ryman Dumbrowski’s farmhouse burned down?”

“How would I know? I don’t know a-anything about this place! Google won’t load, and I just … just drive out along Route A, take County Maintenance 20. White Miata in the stupid road! I put the flashers on. Please!”

Powerless to move the ambulance, she fumbled his visor up, half recalling some Girl Scout leader talking about airways, and checking them. The guy made a pained, grunting noise. Ashlyn choked back a sob. I moved him, and now he’s dying. He’s dying now. God, why is this even real life?  

Inside the helmet, his face was a bloody mess, but most of it seemed to be coming from his nose. And he kept breathing. Worst—or best?—his swollen eyes moved. Hard to tell if the slits were blinking or not, but she opted for yes. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” She softened her voice, barely touching her fingertips to his neck again—the only bit of skin both visible and not shredded, sliced, or over obviously broken bones. “Y-you… Can you talk? Your name? What’s your name?”

His eyes, both of which were almost hidden in bruises but might have been brown or black, darted around for a few seconds before they locked on hers. “Nathan,” he said in a raw, rough whisper. The headlights kept his ruined face mostly shadowed, but she smiled, hoping to encourage him.

“Nathan. Okay. Don’t move any more. You had a pretty bad spill, but help’s coming. Um. Eventually.”

Nathan winced and his eyes shut. “Might … be faster … to go to them…” He sounded like he thought this idea did not belong to the same order of likelihood as Mr. Tumnus running out of the nearest oil well.

“Right. Yeah. First, um…” What do they do in TV shows? Come on, what would Grey’s Anatomy say? “Tell me if you can wiggle your toes. Um. Your right ones. The left leg’s … kind of broken. Let’s not move it.” She figured that would take him a minute or two. He had long legs and probably a concussion, so it seemed like a big job.

Thunder rumbled again, and Ashlyn cringed, looking at her tiny, two-seater convertible. She focused on his legs. Big, much longer than hers, plus all the blood and swelling. Crap. Should I take his boots off, or does that make it worse? I should probably tourniquet something… But what if I tie the wrong bit? Didn’t someone say those were bad now?

“Moving.” He didn’t sound convincing, but if he thought his toes were moving, why argue?

“Okay.” She relayed the information into the phone. More syllables cut up into unintelligible nonsense answered. She took a deep breath, tried not to look completely terrified, and got off her knees to settle down onto the road beside him, ignoring the gravel biting into her hip and the unpleasant chill of wet dirt on her bare, shorts-clad leg. Do I keep him talking? If he has a head injury, he’ll die if he passes out. But he was already passed out once… Why the hell didn’t I get a nursing degree? Where is Google when I need it?

Nathan’s head tilted back in the helmet, or maybe it settled into the mud. “Th-think… they’re gonna make it?”

She glanced at him but a second later, her gaze rolled to the sky as fat raindrops landed on her arms and then the top of her head. Of course.

“They’ll be here, Nathan. Hold on.” She ran to her car, frantically tossing through the stuff piled in the passenger seat and floorboard. Her fingers closed around the Hello Kitty umbrella just as the sky opened up. She raced back and dropped next to him with a muffled shriek at the icy water rolling down her spine. Cold-as-hell rain would be Mother Nature’s choice today. Why not?

“I … I can’t believe … I’m gonna die here…” His mirthless laugh turned into a moan.

“Shut up. You’re not dying.” The words came out harsh to forestall any further argument. After two fumbled attempts, the umbrella blossomed above them, shielding Nathan from another mouthful of rain. 

“Well…” His gaze swept over her as he exhaled. “There … there are worse ways to go…” She glanced down to find her light pink shirt clinging to her bra and managed not to roll her eyes. Barely.

“At least your vision’s survived.”  She switched the flashlight app off—the headlights were bright enough. Better not to see Nathan’s injuries while she attempted to keep him conscious. The bone in his arm (or out of it, more importantly) was making her queasy.  Eternities dragged by. At the end of the universe, sirens wailed like a blessed choir of distant angels. Ashlyn sagged in relief until she realized they were still alone.

“Hey, they’re here!” She squeezed Nathan’s right wrist and touched his neck to find his pulse. Weaker, but still there. He didn’t answer.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Allegra Grey and Emily Sloan are a writing team who bonded over a love of history and Sailor Moon, back when the world was young. Allegra is an army spouse, Em is an artist. You can find them on social media, or researching 1% MC’s for the sequel. Or their new YouTube channel, Storm Crows TV.

ALLEGRA: 

FB: @AllegraGrey42 (https://www.facebook.com/AllegraGrey42/)

Twitter: @alle_grey (https://twitter.com/Alle_Grey)

Insta: allegra.grey (https://www.instagram.com/allegra.grey/)

EMILY: 

FB: @EmSloan2 (https://www.facebook.com/EmSloan2/)

Twitter: emsloan2 (https://twitter.com/emsloan2)

Insta: emcsloan2 (https://www.instagram.com/emcsloan2/)

 

Storm Crows TV: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHSa2_Q9o0J0sjnfBSx3Sig/featured

 

 

Cover Reveal: The Wolf and the Sparrow by Isabelle Adler #LGBT #suspense #coverreveal @Isabelle_Adler

The Wolf and the Sparrow by Isabelle Adler

Cover created by Natasha Snow

RELEASE DATE: November 25, 2019

Available to Pre-Order at NineStar Press on November 22nd

Add to Goodreads


Derek never wished to inherit his title as a result of a bloody battle. With the old count dead and the truce dependent on his marriage to the rival duke’s son, Derek has no choice but to agree to the victor’s terms in order to bring peace to his homeland. When he learns of the sinister rumors surrounding his intended groom, Derek begins to have doubts—but there can be no turning back from saying I do.

After the death of his wife, Callan of Mulberny never expected to be forced into another political marriage—especially not to someone like the new Count of Camria. Seemingly soft and meek, it’s only fitting that Derek’s family crest is a flighty sparrow, worthy of nothing but contempt.

Another war with the seafaring people of the Outer Isles looms on the horizon, and the reluctant newlyweds must team together to protect those caught in the circle of violence. Derek and Callan slowly learn to let go of their prejudices, but as they find themselves enmeshed in intrigue fueled by dark secrets and revenge, their tentative bond is all that keeps their world—and their lives—from plunging into chaos.

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Book Blitz: Samba by Melanie Munton #RomanceBooks #Suspense #NewRelease @melanie_munton @XpressoTours

Samba
Melanie Munton
(Sultry Nights, #4)
Publication date: October 15th 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Samba (n): danced to a quick, fast-paced beat, with rapid steps and a rocking, sexy swaying motion; typically has a dramatic climax

Whether Sophie Fuentes wants to admit it or not, her life has irrevocably changed ever since undercover DEA agent Max Romano blew into it. And now that she knows the truth about who he really is, everything has changed all over again. Nothing is as she thought it was. There is no one left she can trust. All she knows for sure is that she wants nothing at all to do with Max and his lies.

Max knows he screwed up majorly with Sophie. But he’s not about to let her shut him out, not when her very life is in danger. She can yell at him, she can hate him, but she can’t deny the way her body responds to him. It might be wrong, but he’s going to use the passion that burns so brightly between them to his advantage. He’ll push her to the brink of her desire until she has no choice but to forgive him.

Their fire burns hotter than ever.

The stakes have never been higher.

The danger has never been deadlier.

But what scares Max the most is that he has no idea what’s coming for them next.

**This is a SHORT story series. Each volume is a short story serial and is an average of 30,000 words. This is NOT a full-length novel series.**

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Sophie

“You say you danced with this guy?”

My head rears back at his lethal tone. “It was just a dance. So that I could ask my questions.”

He hums in the back of his throat. “And I’m sure he was all-too-willing to answer every single one of them. Especially with the way this dress clings to your ass. Are you even wearing underwear?”

I lift my chin, pleased to know he likes what he sees. “Yes, I am. I would expect some gratitude or at least a thank you for helping with your investigation. After all, that seems to be all you care about.”

Someone bumps into Max, shoving him against me. When the movement knocks me back, his hand instinctively goes to my waist to steady me. Our bodies are pressed close together, so it’s difficult to not notice the hard bulge between his legs. A bulge that he thrusts against me with one quick drive of his hips.

My eyes practically roll back in my head at the contact.

“I think you know that’s not all I care about, Sophie,” he breathes against my parted lips. “I care that you danced with another man. That another man had his hands on you. That he thought you were his, even just for a song.” His other hand clasps onto my hip, yanking me to him. “I care a hell of a lot that he wanted what’s mine.”

With both hands clamped around my waist, he sways his hips. Not driving his pelvis into me this time, but moving our bodies together to the rhythm of the sultry samba number the live band just started playing. Our connected bodies instantly sync to the beat, reminding me so much of our first dance the night we met. I go with it and allow him to lead me because I can’t not. This music—this dancing—is in my blood. I can’t waste an opportunity to feel it like this.

“You still think I’m yours?” I manage.

He groans when I roll my hips against him. “Baby, you’ve been mine since the first time we kissed. You really think I’m going to give you up? I don’t care how mad I make you, I won’t stop trying to earn you. Because I want to deserve you.”

His honesty takes me by surprise. And it only serves to make me hotter.

The dance floor is so packed there isn’t a lot of room for extra spins or grand twirls. Not that I want any more space between us. I’m enjoying the feel of Max’s hard muscles grinding against me way too much. The adrenaline from before I saw him still flows through my blood and spikes at his sincere words. I don’t want to go back to being Sophie Fuentes, witness for the DEA.

I want to be Sophie Fuentes, the woman who can bring a man like Max Romano to his knees.

I want to feel alive.

I want to feel la vida—life—emanate from my soul.

Our bodies stay interlocked, pulsating together, as we writhe in our confined space. I love this private world of dance we share. No other man in the world can make me feel like Max does, on and off the dance floor.

Ever perceptive, he picks up on my train of thought. “You didn’t enjoy dancing with him, did you? He didn’t make you feel like this, did he? You missed me, didn’t you?”

I nod frantically, too breathless to speak. Our passion has always had that effect on me. I lose all conscious thought, all control, all inhibitions. I surrendered to my desires with his first hip thrust, and now I’m close to begging for mercy, for a release.

I don’t even realize I’ve whimpered until he responds to it by sucking on my neck. “Christ. You need me. Don’t you, Sophie?”

 

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!

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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#CoverReveal – CINDER (Devil’s Boneyard MC) by Harley Wylde #NewAdult #SilverFox #MCromance #PregnancyRomance @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

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She’s an angel and I’m a Devil. There’s no place for us in this world,
and yet I still want her.

Meg – For ten years I suffered at the hands of a monster, bought at auction and forced to be a slave, at the whim of a Colombian drug lord who also ran underground fights. Then the Devil’s Boneyard came to rescue one of their own and I was free. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is. I only know one thing. Cinder, the President of Devil’s Boneyard, makes me feel safe and that’s something I haven’t felt in forever. But one kiss and I’m seeing him in a new light, and I know that one kiss will never be enough.

Cinder – Meg’s a sweet girl, a little angel who tends to sing and distract me as she cleans my house. I never said she had to pay for her keep around here, but she insists. She’s easily thirty years my junior, which makes me feel like a sick fuck every time I get hard around her, especially after all she’s suffered. Then I royally fucked up and kissed her. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more, even though I know we’re doomed. A threat to my club, and to Meg, has her under my roof 24/7 and I have no idea how I’ll keep myself from giving into temptation. Whoever leaked her information to The Inferno is going to pay in blood. Even if I haven’t claimed her, Meg is mine, and I always protect what’s mine.

WARNING: Scorching hot sex, a club President who isn’t afraid to inflict some violence on his enemies, and a woman who discovers she’s stronger than she thought. Please be advised there are mentions of physical and sexual abuse, as well as human trafficking of teens, even though nothing is described in detail.

preorder links coming soon

 

ABOUT HARLEY

HarleyWylde_March2019

 

When Harley is 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.

You can follow Harley on AmazonTwitter, or Facebook. Get New Release notifications (for US readers) by following Harley on BookBub! Want to talk more about the Dixie Reapers or other Harley books? Join the Wyldlings on Facebook!

Harley’s website: harleywlde.com