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Meet the unforgettable men of London’s most notorious tavern, The Wicked Duke. Seductively handsome, with charm and wit to spare, one night with these rakes and rogues will never be enough…

 

One Night for Seduction, the first standalone in the all-new historical and romantic The Wicked Dukes Club Series from New York Times bestselling author Erica Ridley is available now!

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 Synopsis

When the Wicked Duke dares the Duke of Colehaven to find a suitor for an unmanageable ward, Cole immediately accepts. He’s on a winning streak, and besides, how unmarriageable can a pretty young lady be? He appoints himself bodyguard and duenna, only to discover his own desires may be the greatest danger of all.

Supposed wallflower Diana Middleton lives a double life, bringing dishonest businessmen to justice. Shaking off a meddling duke should be child’s play. Yet the more they lock horns, the more she wants to lock lips. Her scandalous secrets would derail his political career. But surely there’s no harm in one little seduction…

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Excerpt:

Movement caught the corner of the Duke of Colehaven’s eye and he turned to see a maid slip into the receiving salon. Possibly sent to offer him some sort of refreshment as he waited but, given how the mission was unfolding thus far, more likely the girl was simply going about her normal routine. Shaw would return at any moment to inform Cole his mistress had no wish to make his acquaintance.

He gave a subtle nod to acknowledge the maid’s presence and moved out of her way to sit upon the edge of a sofa.

The maid tilted her head as if considering him, but the brim of her mobcap flopped too low for Cole to discern the direction of her gaze. Of course a servant wouldn’t be so ill-trained as to stare rudely at her masters’ guests. Likely she was deciding between carrying on with her duties or returning later once the unexpected guest had gone.

“You’re one of Diana’s friends?” came the soft query.

Cole wasn’t certain what startled him more: confirmation that Diana Middleton did indeed have friends, or surprise that a maid would dare to address him directly.

Perhaps that was why his mouth answered automatically, “I’m here to see Miss Middleton, yes.”

Even that small evasion caused a ripple of discomfort beneath his skin. It was none of the maid’s business what the Duke of Colehaven was or was not up to, but Cole prided himself on being scrupulously honest in all his dealings, regardless of situation or class. Yet he could not bring himself to say No, I am not her friend aloud. Honesty was paramount, but so was honour, and he was not here to besmirch Miss Middleton’s.

“Is she expecting you?” the maid asked.

“She is not,” he replied tightly and made a show of arranging his long limbs in the opposite direction as though he had become struck with sudden fascination at the wallpaper on the other side of the parlour.

There. That should put paid to further inquiries.

“Then why are you here?” the maid insisted. “Have you come to press a suit?”

Nothing like that,” Cole blurted out more forcefully than he intended. He gave up on the far wallpaper and turned to glare at the impertinent maid in the doorway.

She was no longer in the doorway. The maid now stood an arm’s width from the other side of the sofa. Her enormous mobcap still flopped too low for her eyes to be visible, but her slender fingers worried at each other against the starched panel of her apron.

The chit ought to be worried. If one of the Middletons caught her interrogating a guest… Or if the head housekeeper should spy her underling shirking her duty…

“Haven’t you anything to do?” Cole said at last. He was not rude by nature, but then again, he normally did not find himself in conversation with other peoples’ chambermaids. Reminding her of her duty was doing her a favour, he told himself. If she lost her post due to such antics, Cole would not be to blame.

“I have more to do than time to do it,” the maid said.

Cole did not doubt this. He gestured toward the opposite side of the parlour. “Don’t let me stop you from what you came to do.”

To his surprise, her lithe hands retrieved a small journal from the pocket of her apron, jotted a quick note with the nub of a pencil, and tucked both objects back inside as though they’d never existed.

“Where’s your chaperone?”

I don’t require a chaperone. It’s Miss Middleton who—” He broke off as a sudden thought occurred to him, unlikely as it might seem. “Are you the young lady’s chaperone? Have you come to assess my character?”

“Did you hope for a stolen moment alone with her?” the maid countered.

“Heaven forbid.” He could not repress a shiver of horror. “I would never be caught alone with a marriageable young lady.”

“You’ve no wish to marry?”

“None,” he replied firmly. And definitely no wish to be compromised against his will.

“Then what makes you think Miss Middleton has any intention to marry?”

“Of course she intends to marry,” Cole said in exasperation. “All proper young ladies hope to find a worthy husband and become an equally worthy wife. What else is she going to do?”

“Mathematics,” the maid replied without hesitation.

He blinked at this non sequitur. “What sort of woman prefers mathematics to marriage?”

“A wise one,” the maid snapped. She ripped off her mobcap and glared at him, revealing a beautiful pair of angry blue eyes. “I’d rather devote the rest of my life to applied sums and long division than spend a single second in the presence of yet another man who thinks he knows what a woman wants without bothering to perform the most perfunctory of information gathering interviews to determine—”

“Miss Middleton?” stammered from his mouth, but Cole need not await verbal confirmation to recognize the truth. “Why are you dressed like a maid?”

“Why are you alone with me in this parlour?” she countered, hands on her hips.

At this unfortunate moment, Cole noticed that when the “maid” entered the salon, she’d shut the door behind her. His stomach bottomed in abject fear. If she hadn’t known he was coming, why on earth was she wearing a disguise? Had she known he was coming?

“Please tell me this was not an elaborate trick to compromise me into marriage,” he managed, every muscle tensing in anticipation of the worst.

“No,” Miss Middleton said, blue eyes flashing, “it is leverage which I intend to use to force you to leave me alone.”

“You mean to extort a duke?” He paused as full realization set in. “Into not marrying you?”

“Is it working?” she demanded.

He rose to his feet with alacrity. “I harbour no wish to marry you. None. At all.”

“Splendid,” she said. “Now hear this. I don’t need you or any man. Understood? If you’ve any sense of self-preservation, you’ll find your way out of this townhouse before someone catches us alone together and both our lives are ruined.”

God help them both.

He dashed to the door and flung it open wide, to prove no nefarious seduction was underway in the guest parlour. But Miss Middleton was right. Lack of misdeed would not be enough. He needed to make haste before the distinct lack of chaperonage in the parlour forced them into an unwanted marriage.

Sensing any act of politeness would only serve to irritate her further, Cole tipped his hat as he swept past her. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Middleton. Have a lovely day.”

“I’m already delighted never to have to see you again,” she called after him, her plump lips pursed in victory.

He smiled to himself as he slipped on his gloves.

That was where the fiery Miss Middleton went wrong. They would definitely be seeing each other again. After all, he had a ten-year winning streak to protect.

And the Duke of Colehaven never backed down from a dare.

About Erica Ridley

Erica Ridley learned to read when she was three, which was about the same time she decided to be a writer when she grew up.

Now, Erica is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of historical romance novels.

The Dukes of War features roguish peers and dashing war heroes who return from battle only to be thrust into the splendour and madness of Regency England.

In Rogues to Riches, Cinderella stories aren’t just for princesses… Lovable rogues sweep strong-willed young ladies into a whirlwind adventure.

The 12 Dukes of Christmas is a laugh-out-loud historical romance series of heartwarming Regency romps nestled in a picturesque snow-covered village.

When not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found riding camels in Africa, zip-lining through rainforests in Costa Rica, or getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest.

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Synopsis

 

When a dangerous conspiracy threatens to tear them apart, he’ll have to choose between his country and the woman he loves…

At the Pleasure of the President, the thrilling conclusion to the twisting, page-turning Perfect Gentlemen series from New York Times bestselling authors Shayla Black and Lexi Blake, is available now!

Decades ago, ambitious Zack Hayes set his sights on the White House. He’s worked his whole life to become the leader of the free world—attending the right schools, marrying the perfect bride—all to aid his campaign. He didn’t realize someone behind the scenes has been pulling the strings to manipulate Zack and the country he loves into a dangerous position—one he will risk his life to wrench free from. The one thing he can’t risk is Elizabeth Matthews.

From the moment she met Zack Hayes, Liz felt the connection. Serving as his campaign manager and then his press secretary, she accepted that her love for him would remain unrequited. Still, she’d thought they were friends, so when he pushed her aside, she felt the stab in her heart. And when she realizes he’s done it to protect her, nothing will stop Liz from standing by his side—not even the men who would use her as a weapon against him.

As shocking secrets are revealed, Zack and Liz find succor and passion in each other’s arms. When the ultimate villain shows his face, Zack may have to choose between his country and the woman he loves…

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Excerpt:

Liz’s hands shook as she turned the lock, shutting herself alone in the library with Zack. This was likely the single stupidest thing she’d ever done, but after years of pining for and being in love with him, she couldn’t walk away without knowing how a night with him would feel.

She should be in her bed right now, trying to find sleep. But she’d seen the light on and known he’d be here. Like a freaking moth to a flame, she’d found herself leaving the safety of her bedroom and walking right into the predator’s den.

Trembling, she turned now and looked at the only man she’d ever truly loved. He needed her tonight. She saw it in his stare, in the way he clenched his fists at his sides. How much character and willpower had it taken him to allow her this choice? She admired him even more for finding the strength, especially since she’d long suspected that under his façade of intellectualism and perfect manners, he hid a beast.

Tonight, she would find out if she’d been right.

Liz had no illusions. He was capable of breaking her heart into a million pieces, and she’d try not to let him. But even if she only got one night with this man, she would take it because she would rather live with foolish regret than stubborn ignorance.

“Elizabeth.”

His voice hummed in the quiet room, caressing between her ears, vibrating through her body. She flushed with arousal.

This was it. This was happening.

She’d wanted him the moment they’d met, but he’d been forbidden. Now, he stood in front of her with his broad shoulders and his dark hair. Not a president, but a man. Herman—at least for the night.

Liz tried to steady her breathing as she crossed the room to him. Finally, she had permission to touch him the way she’d always wanted. Of course, she’d heard him say tonight would be his way all the way, that it wouldn’t be tender, but she wanted one sweet moment she could cling to later before her man turned beast.

She stopped in front of him and reached up, brushing her fingers against the sliver threaded at his temples—the only sign that he was ageing. Naturally, it made him even more attractive.

He caught her hand, clasping it in his big one. “Be sure.”

That was Zack, always putting others first, even when his whole world was falling apart. Even when he needed so desperately for himself.

Tonight, she was here for him in every way. Liz hoped with all her heart he understood that.

She would cling to him through the bittersweet hours until dawn, memorizing every touch. Tomorrow they would go back to their corners, and the turmoil would start again. It would be worse because she would know exactly how good it felt to be in his arms. But their passion could only be temporary because he was right, any chance they’d had at a future had died the day Joy had. After her murder and three long years, how could they ever hope for more?

“I’m sure,” she murmured. “I want everything you have to give me tonight.”

About the Authors

Shayla Black

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Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than sixty novels. For twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past ten years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

 

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https://www.shaylablack.com

Lexi Blake

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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

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http://www.lexiblake.net/

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Gone For You, an all-new small town, second chance romance from Jennifer Van Wyk, is available now!

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Synopsis

I didn’t expect you.

Certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship.

But, my heart is drawn to you and I can’t stop the way it’s beating, demanding more.

This distance between us should have been enough to stop me.

It wasn’t, though. Not even knowing you’re my brother’s best friend could have stopped me from wanting more with you.

The universe has other plans, though.

You say that you’ll stop at nothing to make me yours.

But, our pasts have a way of sneaking up on us.

I hope I’m strong enough to withstand the hurt. Because my heart… it’s gone for you.

Gone for You is a standalone brother’s best friend, sweet and sizzling romance.

she's delicious

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Pre-order the second standalone in the All For You Series, Falling for You today!

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Excerpt:

It’s getting late and the crowd has shrunk in size considerably, including almost everyone that I saw hanging out with the birthday party. But not Liv. Still, even though the crowd is small, they all cheer when I toss a bottle Rex’s way and he lets it drop almost to the floor before bending at the knees to catch it. He stands back up, swoops his arm in the air, releases his grip on the bottle and snatches it again quickly.

Everyone laughs and claps at his theatrics, a few catcalls are hollered from the back area by the pool table. Even though we’ve been at it off and on all night, they still can’t get enough.

He winks at a pretty girl with chin-length, straight brown hair and she blushes as he raises the vodka bottle high in the air while he’s pouring the liquor into the glass, topping it off with a splash of cranberry juice and wedge of lime.

I don’t even know if she ordered it but he gives it to her anyway and she lifts it to her lips. He leans over the bar, whispering something in her ear. She smiles over the rim of the glass and touches his shoulder flirtatiously. I shake my head, knowing exactly who he’ll be spending his night with.

Speaking of…

My skin prickles, a tingle runs up and down my spine. I don’t need to scan the crowd to know where she is. I move to the end of the bar where she’s sitting now, talking with a friend while pretending not to watch me.

The ‘trio of boobs’, as Liv so eloquently named them, sidles up next to her and orders another round of shots. Of course, they’re still here. “Can we get some Slut Juice?” This time it’s a different woman ordering than before.

Liv coughs and I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She bites the corner of her bottom lip and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

“Comin’ right up,” I tell them, knocking my knuckles on the wood. The girls giggle and I hear Liv mumble something about them already having enough slut juice. I’m glad my back is turned when she says it so no one sees how hard I’m working to keep a straight face.

Behind me, I hear the same high-pitched voice from earlier paired with cackling laughter when the girl who first approached me earlier tonight says something about my ass and how she hopes I’m going to cash in on that flaming orgy.

“You’re awful,” one of them replies.

“What? Like you weren’t thinking it?”

“Maybe we can get ‘em both to join us.”

I glance at Liv just in time to see her rolling her eyes.

Drinks mixed, I fill their shots and push them in their direction.

“We’re going to get you to join us sooner or later,” the first one purrs.

“Babe?” I hear Liv call out. Scrunching my eyebrows, I look at her to see who she’s talking to. But her focus is on me.

One of the girls huffs beside me when Liv reaches out and lays her hand on my hand that’s resting on the bar.

“Eth? Did you hear me?”

Eth? “Huh?”

She looks at the girls and sighs like she’s really put out. “When he’s working, he’s so focused on making his customers happy. It’s one of the things I love most about him. Though, I have to admit, it kind of sucks when you don’t even hear what your girlfriend is saying.” She offers them a sweet smile while trailing a finger over my hand. Liv turns and looks at me adoringly and sighs. Places her chin in the palm of her hand not touching me. “But just look at him. Could you stay upset with that face? Isn’t he gorgeous?”

One of the girls starts agreeing while one elbows her in the side. They spin around, hair flying behind them as they stomp away.

“You probably just cost me a tip,” I tease.

“Oh please. You should be thanking me.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that her long, slender fingers are still resting on my hand. The bright pink polish on her fingernails is a stark contrast against my skin and something about it is so completely sexy. I’m also very aware that I haven’t moved my hand either. In fact, if anything, I’m inching it closer to her.

“Thanking you, huh?”

“Uh huh. I probably just saved you from about four STD’s.”

“From who? The…”

“Trio of boobs. Yes. I mean, seriously, who orders slut juice when it’s obvious it’s basically their blood type.”

I bark out a laugh and turn my body so I’m fully facing her. I notice her friend beside us is watching our exchange like we’re the most entertaining thing she’s seen all night. She’s looks to be about ready to pull out a bag of popcorn and settle in for a good show.

“I’m so grateful that you felt the need to step in, pretend to be my girlfriend so they’d back off. I mean, one can only handle receiving so many orgy invitations in one night.”

She lifts a shoulder and I feel her hand flex over mine. “Well, yeah. I’m generous like that.”

I lower my voice and inch closer still. “So it was all for my benefit, huh?”

Liv rubs her lips together and glances down at our hands that are almost linked together now. “Mm-hmm. Your benefit only.”

“No other reason to get those girls away from me?”

“You did seem awfully uncomfortable and I assumed you were being nice because it’s kind of your job.”

I lean on the bar so I’m close enough to say into her ear, “You know what I think?”

She shakes her head slightly and I can smell the faint coconut fragrance of her shampoo waft through my senses. I want to thread my fingers through her hair, bury my nose in it, wrap it around my hand while I tip her head back and taste the long column of her neck.

I flip my hand over beneath hers and curl a finger so the tip teases the palm of her hand. I’m hoping for a shiver in response and smile when I receive it.

“I think you were jealous.”

About Jennifer

JenniferVanWykLogo - Copy

From the Ground Up was Jennifer’s first published novel and now that she was bitten by the writing bug, has no intention of ever stopping. Jennifer makes her home in small town Iowa with her high school sweetheart, three beautiful, hilarious and amazing kids, one crazy Jack Russell terrier. This is where her love for all things reading, baking, and cooking happen. Jennifer’s family enjoys camping, boating, and spending time outside as much as possible. You’ll be her best friend if you can make her laugh and follow up with asking her what to read next. When she’s not writing, you can find her cheering the loudest at her kids’ sporting events (read as: embarrassing them), sipping coffee or iced tea out of a mason jar with her Kindle in her lap or binging on Netflix.

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Kennedy Ryan weaves prose like a magician (or voodoo priestess) without sacrificing heat or page-turning angst to create authentic, living, breathing characters you want to root for to the end. Hook Shot is simply beautiful.” — Emma Scott, Bestselling Author

 

Hook Shot, a deeply emotional standalone set in the worlds of professional basketball and high fashion from Kennedy Ryan, is available now and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

baller binge hoops 99 cents

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Synopsis

Divorced. Single dad. Traded to a losing squad.

Cheated on, betrayed, exposed.

My perfect life blew up in my face and I’m still picking up the pieces.

The last thing I need is her.

A wildflower. A storm. A woman I can’t resist.

Lotus DuPree is a kick to my gut and a wrench in my plans

from the moment our eyes meet.

I promised myself I wouldn’t trust a woman again,

but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Lo.

She’s not the plan I made, but she’s the risk I have to take.

 

A warrior. A baller. The one they call Gladiator.

Kenan Ross charged into my life smelling all good, looking even better and snatching my breath from the moment we met.

The last thing I need is him.

I’m working on me. Facing my pain and conquering my demons.

I’ve seen what trusting a man gets you.

  1. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.

But he just keeps coming for me.

Keeps knocking down my defences and stealing my excuses

one by one.

He never gives up, and now…I’m not sure I want him to.

hook shot an sierra one

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EXCERPT

After talking to Kenan for the last few minutes, and looking under his hood, so to speak, I’ve found that he’s a classic. They don’t make them like him anymore, and if I don’t change the subject, change the course of this conversation, I’ll fool myself that we don’t have to keep things simple and that we could be more than just friends, not just for the summer, but for a long time to come. As long as I’d like.

           “Okay,” I say, switching gears without a clutch and pulling a tie off another of Amanda’s racks. “I think that shirt could work really well with this tie.”

           He doesn’t look at the tie I’m holding up, but keeps his eyes fastened on me. He’s not playing along. I’ve boxed myself into a corner with him. And the quarters are too tight. His scent. His warmth. His intelligence. His thoughtfulness. He is pressing in on me, overtaking my good intentions in all the ways I never thought a man could.

           “Try this on,” I say, blindly shoving the mint green shirt at him.

           When I look at him, he’s already peeled one shirt off and is reaching for the one I chose. I didn’t think this through. Didn’t forecast that Kenan changing from one shirt into another would mean his naked chest. I lose my train of thought and all my chill. Besides my mouth dropping open at the sight of the sculpted terrain of his chest and abs, I give no other indication that he affects me. Taut, bronze skin stretches across his broad shoulders like supple canvas pulled over a frame, the foundation of a masterpiece. He’s a big man. Not bulky, but instead chiselled to the specifications of a master sculptor: arms roped with muscles, biceps like rocks under skin glowing with health. The forearms Chase raved about are lined with veins and sinew. And I die for a great chest. I’ve never seen one more spectacular than Kenan’s.

           Two words.

           Male. Nipples.

           Jesus, my mouth is literally watering at the thought of tasting them, sucking them, licking them. And if that pectoral perfection weren’t enough, the two columns of muscles, four each, are stacked over his lean stomach arrowing down to a narrow waist and hips. I can’t look away. I lick my lips, imagining how he would feel under my mouth. How I’d lick around his nipples and drag my tongue down that shallow path bisecting his abdominal muscles. I’d slip that belt off and sink to my knees. Unzip those pants and take him out. God, hold him in my hands and then take him all the way to the back of my throat. I’d choke on him. A man this big . . . I’d be so tight around him.

           “Lotus,” Kenan says, jarring me from my torso trance. “Should I go ahead and put this shirt on? Or did you need a little more time?”

           I snap a glance up to his face, embarrassed to find him laughing at me. Oh, God. I’m as bad as Amanda. I turn to leave, but he catches my elbow with a gentle hand and turns me back around, walking us behind two of the racks. He bends until he’s almost eye level with me.

           “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, searching my face intently. “I’m glad you like my body.”

           “I didn’t say I . . .” My words trail off at his knowing grin. “Okay. So you have a nice body. I work in fashion. Do you have any idea how many great bodies I see on a daily basis?”

           “I’m sure many,” he says, his smile still firmly in place. “I can’t speak for any of them, only for the way you looked at me.”

           “And how do you think I looked at you?” I ask defensively, forcing myself not to look away.

           In the quiet that follows, his smile fades, and heat replaces the humour in his eyes. “You looked at me the way I bet I’ve looked at you every time you walk into a room,” he says, the timbre of his voice rolling over my sensitive skin like a caress. “Like I would eat you if I could. Head to toe, everything in between.”

           “Kenan,” I protest, closing my eyes on a groan. “We said, friends. We said simple. This is not how you start a simple friendship.”

           His large hand cups my jaw and lifts my chin. I open my eyes, blinking dazedly at him. I wasn’t prepared for how his touch makes me feel. How I instantly crave more of it; want to lean into the warmth; to turn and trace his lifeline with my tongue. Tell him all the things I could discover just from reading his palm and looking into his eyes.

           How can such a large hand feel so gentle, like it’s capable of treasuring, cherishing?

           “Okay, Lotus,” he says, regret and reluctance woven around my name. “Simple. Friendship.”

About Kennedy

KR W Bckg Verti

A Top 25 Amazon Bestseller, Kennedy Ryan writes about women from all walks of life, empowering them and placing them firmly at the centre of each story and in charge of their own destinies. Her heroes respect, cherish and lose their minds for the women who capture their hearts.

She is a wife to her lifetime lover and mother to an extraordinary son. She has always leveraged her journalism background to write for charity and non-profit organizations but enjoys writing to raise Autism awareness most. A contributor for Modern Mom Magazine and Frolic, Kennedy’s writings have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, USA Today and many others. The founder and executive director of a foundation serving Atlanta Autism families, she has appeared on Headline News, Montel Williams, NPR and other media outlets as an advocate for families living with autism.

Connect with Kennedy

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*Blog Tour*

*Blog Tour*

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A strapping bodyguard and a mysterious beauty on the run cross paths and tempt danger in Cozumel…

 

Dangerous Beauty, an all-new sexy and suspenseful romance from J.T. Geissinger is available now!

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Synopsis

For Nasir, former Special Ops military man and bodyguard, his new job seems like an easy-money gig: trail a Russian mobster’s runaway wife in Mexico, enjoy the sun, observe, and report. Just one rule: don’t get too close. But it’s all Naz can do not to watch the alluring dancer’s every move. A closer look is irresistible—especially when she’s in trouble.

Evalina escaped to the island getaway to live an untraceable life—as far away from the past as she can get. But Eva can’t ignore the dark, muscled stud who rescues her from a drug gang. He says he’s an ex-cop on vacation. When providence throws them together time and again, Eva thinks it’s all a beautiful coincidence. Now she’s giving in to a strange new sensation: trust.

But Naz has a mission to accomplish and a secret to keep. Eva has her share of secrets, too. And as the heat flares between them, Naz knows that trust could become the most dangerous impulse of all.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

 

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Excerpt:

I turn to look at her. She’s framed in the doorway with the light bright behind her and her face in shadow, her hair a golden corona around her head. A band of tightness settles around my chest.

I take a step toward her. She takes a step back. I don’t know what she sees on my face, but her eyes are huge and her pulse is throbbing in the side of her neck.

When I take another step and she retreats again, I stop. “Are you afraid of me?”

She laughs shakily. “No.”

“Then why are you backing up?”

“I was hoping I’d be at the wall by now. I need it to hold me up. I’m so excited I think I might faint.”

The band around my chest grows tighter.

“Stay where you are,” I say, holding her gaze. The eye contact feels like a touch, like an electrical current running on a loop between us. It’s probably close to ninety degrees, but the skin on my arms raises in gooseflesh. As I take another step toward her, she flexes her hands open and draws a breath.

She says with quiet wonder, “I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.”

“I know. Me too.”

I advance another step. She’s an arm’s length away. I see it when she begins to tremble.

“This must be what a stroke feels like,” she whispers as I reach out and touch her face.

“Probably not this good.” I slide my hand into her hair, and she bites her lip.

When I move closer, she raises her hands and flattens them on my chest. I know she can feel how hard my heart is pounding. Her breathing is as erratic as mine.

“Oh God,” she says faintly. “I really hope this kiss you’re about to give me is as amazing as the pre-kiss. I think my panties just went up in flames.”

“Not a good idea to talk to me about your panties right now, sweetheart,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her jaw. “I’m barely in control as it is.”

I nuzzle my nose into the soft, sweet spot under her earlobe and drag in a breath scented of her skin. She shudders. I cradle her head in my hands as her fingers dig into my chest. I open my mouth over the pulse in her throat and she moans, low and soft, arching into me.

That little moan sets my entire body on fire.

With one hand cupped around the back of her head and the other around her jaw, I tilt her head back and fit my mouth to hers.

Her lips part. Our tongues touching is an electrical shock. She makes a soft, feminine noise in the back of her throat that makes me feel savage, like an animal.

We stand in the gloom and kiss, deep and slow, until the urge to push her against the wall, lift her skirt, and thrust deep inside her is a hot, heady pulse in my veins. She slides her arms up around my shoulders so her breasts press against my chest. I feel her nipples, two hard points in a lush expanse of skin, and groan into her mouth.

My dick is so hard it’s throbbing.

“I want you to kiss me everywhere,” she whispers, breaking away from my mouth but staying in my arms. She’s panting. Her eyes look glazed. “I want you to take off my clothes and kiss me everywhere like that. Promise me you will.”

I huff out a breath that’s part laugh and part groan. “So it measured up to the pre-kiss, huh?”

About J.T. Geissinger:

Joyce42

J.T. Geissinger is a bestselling author of emotionally charged romance and women’s fiction. Ranging from funny, feisty romcoms to intense, edgy suspense, her books have sold more than one million copies and been translated into several languages.

She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. She has also been a finalist in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.

Her first novel was published in 2012. Since then she’s written eighteen more novels. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, drinking wine, surfing the internet, and daydreaming about all the things she’s going to be when she grows up. She lives near the beach in Los Angeles with her husband and deaf/demented rescue kitty, Ginger.

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*Blog Tour*

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SWY_ebook_1707x2500

 

Shattered With You, the first in the all-new Stark Security series of  standalones, from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner, is available now!

 

 

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Synopsis

 

With his lethal skills and criminal connections, former British agent Quincy Radcliffe has fast become a key asset at the newly formed Stark Security. But Quincy isn’t the man he appears to be.

When the woman whose body he once worshipped and whose heart he broke pleads for his help, Quincy knows he must either turn his back on her or risk revealing his dark secrets to the one woman who can—and will—tear open his old wounds.

For years, struggling actress Eliza Tucker has tried to forget the decadent weeks she shared with Quincy Radcliffe. His smouldering good looks had drawn her in, while his British charm had enchanted her. But it was the wildness of his seduction and the ferocity of his passion that captured her. She’d given herself to him—and he’d shattered her like glass when he’d walked away.

Now, he’s the only person who can help find her missing sister. She’ll use him because she has to. She’ll pay any sensual price he demands. But she won’t fall for him again.

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Download your copy today!

 

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Excerpt

“I think it’s time we get you home.”

“Yes, please.” My pulse pounded in my throat. Hell, it pounded between my thighs. With each moment that passed, I was more and more turned on. I blamed the wine—it’s definitely my aphrodisiac of choice—but those lovely grapes weren’t entirely responsible for this sweet longing. On the contrary, that was all the man.

A man who took my hand and very gingerly helped me down the narrow stairs to the street, where he hailed a cab. “I’ll have to remember you’re a cheap drunk,” he said, his hand sliding down to cup my bottom. I bit my lower lip and leaned into it, then moaned with satisfaction as he nuzzled my neck. “That’s valuable information to store away.”

“If that’s the kind of information you want, I’ll tell you anything. Just don’t stop doing that.”

“Ah, but I have to. Your chariot awaits.”

He stepped around me, leaving me bereft from the sudden lack of contact. He opened the door like a perfect gentleman, then stepped back, as if to close it, rather than sliding in beside me.

“Are you getting in on the other side? I can slide over.”

“You’re going home alone,” he said, and my entire body went cold from the giant bucket of rejection he’d just dumped all over me.

“I—what? Why?” I frowned. “I thought you were buying me breakfast. I thought we were going to—” I closed my mouth because under the circumstances I really wasn’t going there.

“You thought I was going home with you. That I was going to kiss you. That I was going to pull you so close your breasts were crushed against me, and your ass was tight in my hands.”

“I—Quincy…” I shot a mortified look at the driver, who was sitting like stone, his hands glued to the steering wheel as he looked straight ahead.

“Hmm,” Quincy said, then leaned over and handed the driver a ten-pound note. “Sorry to keep you waiting. This should cover the inconvenience.”And then, as if the delay was the only thing odd about this situation, he turned back to me and said, “That would be my very great pleasure, Eliza.”

“But. Wait. What?” I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the shock, but he was making no sense.

He put a hand on the roof and leaned in.

“You’re dangerous, Eliza. You and me, we’re a lot alike.”

“That’s bad?”

“I told you. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh. I see.” I swallowed. And told myself not to cry. I didn’t know him well enough to cry. Which begged the question of why tears were pooling in my eyes. “Well, it was—I mean, I had a nice day. Thank you. It, ah, it was really nice to meet you.” Bastard.

His mouth twitched, and for a moment I feared I’d said that out loud.

“Is that a brush off?”

“What, no. Wait—I thought you were brushing me off.”

“Do you want me to?” Again with that tiny smile.

“No, and you’re teasing me. What the hell, Quince?”At that, he laughed outright. “Now I know.”

“What?”

“If you and I spend much time together—and I certainly hope that we will—when you call me Quince it’s because I’m in trouble.”

I tilted my head and crossed my arms in a display of irritation. And I was irritated. But I was also hopelessly, giddily relieved. “Fine. You’re in trouble. Don’t scare me like that. You acted like you just wanted to send me on my way.”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said, bending lower and speaking softer. But not so soft the driver couldn’t hear.

“I don’t just want to go home with you. I don’t simply want to fuck you. I want to claim you, Eliza. I want you to surrender completely. To give me your trust entirely.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what that means.”

“I think you do. I want control.” He brushed my lips with the pad of his free hand. “To take you how I want you. In the back of a cab like this. In your bed. Tied down. On your knees. I’ll give you pleasure, Eliza. More than you can imagine or have experienced.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can, and I do.” He hesitated a moment, his eyes burning into me. “I can’t promise to save you from whatever darkness is inside you—only you can do that. But there are shadows in your eyes, and I want to be the one to bring back some light.”

About J. Kenner

jkenner

  1. Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over one hundred novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.

Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chick-lit” suspense, urban fantasy,  and paranormal mommy lit.

JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A six time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy) and in 2017 for Wicked Dirty in the same category. Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development as a television show.

Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.

In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practised primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas.  She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.

Connect with J. Kenner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JKennerBooks/

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Stay up to date with J. Kenner by joining her mailing list: http://juliekenner.com/contact/subscribe-to-the-julie-kenner-newsletter/

Website: www.jkenner.com

 

 

Blog Tour & Excerpt

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You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend.

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Kiss and Break Up, an all-new angst-filled, friends to lovers New Adult romance from Ella Fields, is available now!
 

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 Synopsis

 

Dashiell Thane wasn’t a nice guy.

He was an abrasive, demanding, conniving, intolerable brat.

Yet somehow, we’d been best friends our whole lives.

Until our senior year when I finally decided to dip my toes into the dating pool.

 

All it took was one kiss for jealousy, lies, and betrayal to sweep in and propel us heart first into dizzying, hostile depths.

 

You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend.

You’re definitely not supposed to kiss your best friend while you’re dating someone else.

And the absolute worst thing you could do is fall for your best friend.

Unless, of course, you want to ruin everything.

 

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

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Excerpt:

 

I fell to the bed just as a thump hit the exterior of the house, and Dash launched himself through the window.

“Can you ever land gracefully?” Or you know, use the front door. For as long as we’d lived here, he’d snuck in. At first, it was due to being unsure whether my mom would still want us hanging out, but it didn’t take her long to figure out what he was doing.

She didn’t care. When I’d shaken like a mouse cornered in a kitchen, she’d smiled and told me she’d never stop us from being friends. Yet the window always remained unlocked.

Dash kicked off his boots, and they hit the aging floor with two bangs. “I’m all man, baby. Not a fucking cat.”

Hearing him say that reminded me of why he was here. I sprang to my feet, hurtling out into the hall and into the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

Too busy gargling mouthwash, I didn’t answer and spat it into the sink as he appeared in the weathered mirror behind me.

“Seriously?” he asked. “You burp in my face after eating garlic pizza, so this is just fucking dumb.”

“You burped in my face first.” I put the cap back on the bottle, not meeting his gaze. I couldn’t. I headed back inside the safety of my room.

But I had to wonder, as I heard Dash gargling mouthwash too, if it would be considered safe again after this. Would this ruin everything by making it awkward?

“Dash,” I said, wringing my hands as I paced the floor of my room. “We probably shouldn’t be doing this. What if––”

“What if it’s awesome and you fall madly in love with me? Well, we already know I don’t do commitment.”

A tiny laugh skittered out. “No, what if it gets awkward? I don’t want anything to change.”

He took me by the shoulders in the middle of my rainbow knitted rug and leveled me with his vibrant eyes. “We’ve done some pretty awkward shit, so what’s a little mouth to mouth going to change?”

I nodded, exhaling slowly, then I frowned. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I know why I want to, but you? What do you even get out of it?”

He grinned. “You might be my best friend, but I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to stick my tongue down your throat.” He tipped a muscled shoulder. “Let’s just say you’ll be killing that curiosity.”

“You’ve always wondered?”

“I’ve got eyes, Freckles. And I don’t need my glasses to appreciate the sight of something beautiful.”

I blinked. “Wow. That was actually really swe––”

“Shut your inexperienced mouth and kiss me.”

I was still laughing when he grabbed my face, and then I squeaked as the world changed color, and his lips lowered over mine.

My heart became a trumpet, blaring in my ears at the first touch of his lips.

I pulled away, startled and still laughing. “Oh, my God.”

Dash’s hands were warm on my face. “That good? They barely even touched.”

“No,” I choked out, pushing his hands away. “It’s just … a little weird.”

“Weird?” His brows scrunched. “We’ve barely even begun.”

I blew out a shaky breath, unable to look at him as my hands flapped at my sides. I stared at his white shirt, looking at where the cotton met his tanned skin. “I don’t know, Dash.”

“Wanna try again?”

I looked at him then, at the eager glint in his blue eyes. “It’s not weird for you?”

He chewed his bottom lip which was a little fatter than the top. And it’d just been touching mine. Oh, how crazy. “Maybe a smidgen. I can just picture Margot Robbie, and I’ll be good.”

I froze. “Margot Robbie?”

He gestured to my hair. “The blonde hair helps.”

“Jesus.” I swiped my hands down my face. “This is dumb. Let’s just forget it.”

He stood there a moment, glancing around my room. “Why don’t you imagine someone? That guy from the Thor movie. You like him.”

“Chris Hemsworth?”

“Yeah. Imagine him.” Then he grinned, waggling his brows. “Pucker up, baby.”

“You didn’t just say that.” I laughed, plopping down on the edge of my bed.

“Whatever. Are we trying again or what?”

The thought of Byron and that mischievous twinkle in his green eyes, the way he’d wasted no time moving in to kiss me … yeah. I needed to do this.

“Okay.” I shook out my hands, bouncing a little on the bed. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Dash’s lips thinned. “This isn’t a cross meet. We’re only swapping germs.”

“You just had to say that, didn’t you?” My pep had officially vanished.

Dash tugged me off the bed. “Close your eyes and relax.”

I tried, but I was as stiff as a board when his mouth met mine again. He tasted like spearmint and cigarettes, but his hands were gentle as one held my chin and the other glided through my hair to the back of my head. Slowly, with the soft press of his lips on mine and the gentle exploration of their shape, my limbs loosened.

“Open,” he whispered, his voice threaded, rougher.

I did, expecting the invasion of his tongue, but the velvet feel of it only traced the inner edges of my mouth.

Out of all the things I’d expected to feel when he’d suggested this crazy idea, it wasn’t relaxed, and it certainly wasn’t the buzzing sensation currently warming my insides.

“This isn’t so bad,” I said when he pulled back, my voice a low exhalation.

“Good. Now repeat the same to me.” My eyes were about to spring open, but he growled. “Keep them closed. Don’t think, just do and feel.”

Drawing in a quick breath through my nose, I found his stubble-coated cheeks with my hands and lifted myself on my toes. I tried to do the same thing he did to me, but my tongue plunged deeper, meeting the warm softness of his. I licked it, stroking cautiously until I heard him hum, the sound vibrating up his throat and causing our lips to mash together.

His hands became firmer around my head, his tongue greedier, sweeping inside my mouth before my teeth found purchase on his plump bottom lip, and pulled.

He groaned, and it had me staggering back, my heart racing and my breath an unsteady, embarrassing sound.

Dash swallowed, then cleared his throat as he shifted on his feet. His eyes met mine, and I looked away, down to where my mint green toes were curling over the abrasive fabric of my rug.

Awkward. This was so awkward, and I prayed we hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

“So that’s how it’s done.” He grabbed the TV remote and plopped onto my bed. “Got any popcorn?”

I shook my head. “Wait, that’s um, it?”

He started flicking through Netflix. “Well, yeah. Not much else to it. We can practice again before your date if you want, but I’m fucking starving, and we need to re-watch the last season of GoT before the new one is out.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, remembering I’d promised him that weeks ago. Hungry myself, I stepped outside, then scowled at him from the doorway. “Don’t put your socks near my pillow.”

He grumbled but shifted and moved over to the other side of the bed.

 

 

About Ella Fields

Ella Fields is a mother and wife who lives in the land Down Under. While her kids are in school, you might find her talking about her characters and books to her two cats. She’s a notorious chocolate and notebook hoarder who enjoys creating hard-won happily ever afters.

 

 

Connect with Ella

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