Blog Tour: Just This Once by Mira Lyn Kelly

Just this Once 

(The Wedding Date)

by Mira Lyn Kelly

Blurb:

He can't have her.

So he moves in with her...

What could possibly go wrong?

As heir to a chain of luxury hotels, Sean Wyse III always gets what he wants. So when he sees a freeloading roommate taking advantage of his spunky best friend, Molly Brandt, he doesn't hesitate to step in. He kicks out the roommate...and moves himself in.

Molly loves quality time with Sean, but spending nights with him one wall away threatens to wake the crush she thought she'd gotten over. A crush Sean knows nothing about, which might be a problem...considering how hard Sean's been working never to think of Molly that way.

The Wedding Date series:

May the Best Man Win (Book 1)

The Wedding Date Bargain (Book 2)

Just this Once (Book 3)

The Decoy Date (Book 4)

Available for purchase at 

Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Nook | iTunes | Kobo

Excerpt

Sean took a step back and ran his hand through his hair, pausing when he realized the state of disarray Molly’d left it in. “You messed up my hair,” he accused, his grin telling her that he knew how much she’d liked doing it.

She shook her head, unable to play along. “You’re messing up my mind.”

The half smile fell away, and then Sean was stepping closer, his eyes going serious. “If this is about the dancing, Moll—”

“It’s not. It’s about you and me figuring out how to get past this inconvenient attraction and get back to just being friends.”

Sean sighed, looking relieved. “You’re right. I keep hoping whatever’s going on between us will go away on its own. That if we just ignore it, eventually it will stop being an issue.”

Molly nodded, then shook her head and stepped into Sean’s space. “Or maybe… Okay, I know this is going to sound nuts, and it probably is, but I was talking to Jill inside and…” And this sounded so stupid, she couldn’t believe she was even thinking about suggesting it, but then Sean ducked low, putting his face back into her line of sight and giving her that smile that promised she could tell him anything.

“What is it?”

“Do you ever really wish you could have a doughnut, but you know you shouldn’t? Like you’re trying to cut back on bad carbs or processed sugar, or maybe they were just out of doughnuts when you went to the stand and you figured you’d just wait until you could get one another day, but then all day you think about the doughnut, because you didn’t just have it when you wanted it, so when you finally, finally see a chance to get the doughnut again, you make a really bad decision and buy, like, all the doughnuts they have and eat and eat and eat until you’re sick to your stomach and filled with regret?”

That endearing smile had left Sean’s face, but being Sean, he was taking her question to heart. He rubbed a hand along his jaw and cocked his head to the side. “No. I bust my ass at the gym so I don’t worry about carbs and sugar, and when I want a doughnut, I get one. And I mean, this sounds pretty obnoxious, but if I really want a doughnut and the stand doesn’t have one, I call down to Jerry, and I’ve got one in the next twenty minutes.”

Molly blew out a breath in a silent plea for patience. This guy ran the most successful hotel in the city, could do her taxes in his head, and knew the answer to every Jeopardy question every time they watched the show…and yet he couldn’t see where she was going with this?

“Say it’s a special doughnut and—”

“I’m more of a bagel guy.”

Maybe she should have used an éclair.

“You’re the doughnut, Sean!” she snapped, exasperation wearing her thin. “You are the doughnut I’m craving. The one I keep thinking about when I’m supposed to be thinking of other things. You. And all I was saying is that maybe what we need to do is give in just a little. Have a taste to curb the craving… Before we crack and wake up surrounded by shredded Dunkin’ Donut bags and a bed filled with crumbs.”

Sean had stopped moving. Heck, he looked like he might not even be breathing, he was so still. Except for his eyes, which had gone dark and serious as they searched hers.

“Molly, what kind of a taste are you talking about?” he asked, his voice gone gravelly rough.

She swallowed past the anxious knot in her throat. “A kiss. Not more than a doughnut hole.”

His stare dropped to her mouth. “You’re talking about now? Here?”

She angled her head, taking in the setting. The concrete was cracked, and Dumpsters lined one side of the alley, while fire escapes hung overhead. She looked at someone’s discarded McDonald’s bag and nodded. “Yeah, this is probably perfect for our needs.” At Sean’s raised brow, she explained. “It’s not romantic, so I don’t have to worry about you getting caught up in some princess fantasy. We’re only semiprivate out here. While if we were at home, we’d have zero chance of getting interrupted.”

“Plus, the assortment of sexable surfaces on hand back at your place.”

“I know. Don’t get me started. But here, the atmosphere isn’t really conducive to going too far. You know what I mean?”

The muscle in his jaw bounced, and he met her eyes. “You worried about things going too far?”

He wasn’t? “No. But better safe than sorry, right?”

He moved a step closer, his single slow breath seeming to fill out his chest and broaden his shoulders. “Sure.”

She swallowed hard. “Honestly, it’s probably going to be gross when we finally do it.”

Sean nodded, close enough now for his hands to settle on her hips. “If you say so.”

Her hands met his stomach, her fingers briefly catching the fabric of his shirt before coasting up to rest lightly on his shoulders. “Just a taste,” she whispered, her lungs tight as their eyes met.

“Just enough to satisfy the craving,” he corrected, lowering his mouth to hers so slowly, she knew he was giving her this last chance to back out. Maybe she should have, but after all the years of wondering, being this close to knowing what Sean’s kiss tasted like was something she couldn’t back away from.

And then…contact.

About The Author

USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in fine arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover he’d been living right around the corner from her. They live in rural Minnesota.

 You can find her at

Website │ Facebook │ Twitter │ Pinterest │ Goodreads

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Spotlight & Giveaway: What Happens in Summer by Caridad Pineiro

What Happens in Summer 

by Caridad Pineiro

Blurb:

"One Summer Night is the perfect escape! It's tender, funny and sexy, with wonderful characters you'll fall in love with. You can't go wrong with Caridad Pineiro."—RAEANNE THAYNE, USA Today bestselling author

She knows the kind of man he is:

The kind who breaks hearts.

But a hot summer at the Jersey Shore

Might be just what they need to light up their lives...

As the only daughter of a single mom, Connie Reyes swore she would never put herself in a similar position. But when she runs into oh–so-tempting Jonathan Pierce at a wedding, she knows she must stay away. She'll fall for him—hard. And he's not the type to stick around. So far the only loyalty he's shown is to his rescued puppy.

Ever since he left town after their teenage fling, Jonathan hasn't been able to forget about Connie. He can't wait to show her the man he's become. And when the night finally comes, their mutual desire will lead to unexpected consequences...

Spotlight & Giveaway: The Only Thing by Marie Harte

The Only Thing 

(The Donnigans)

by Marie Harte 

Blurb:

What do you do when a "fake" relationship is so much better than the real thing?

Hope Donnigan is finally getting her life together. She's working a job she likes, has some amazing friends, and is steering clear of Mr. Wrong. Now if only she could get her mother to understand that. Maybe a hot tattoo artist from the other side town is just the ticket to teach her mom a lesson.

J.T. Webster fell for Hope months ago at his sister's wedding. So when she propositions him to be her fake boyfriend to get her mother off her back, he's all in. The only problem is J.T. had no idea their pretend relationship would be better than anything real he's ever had…

Available for purchase ast

Audible | Kindle | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | Nook 

Excerpt

“J.T.?”

He froze for a moment, feeling déjà vu. He kept hearing Hope Donnigan’s voice in the weirdest places. Although she had actually been at his dad’s on Friday. He turned to see her standing by the wall-mounted screen to his right. Huh. She was really here.

“Hope?”

She wore open toed sandals showing off dainty, blue painted toenails. Shapely legs disappeared under a knee-length, floral sun dress. A cropped sweater hid her shoulders. She looked like the essence of summer, and he wanted to kneel down in worship. Innocence radiated from her in waves, as if begging him to muss her a little and show her just what heels like those would look like on either side of his head.

He should have felt dirty for wanting to muddy that innocence. Instead, he grew more aroused. Hell.

“Hi.” She smiled at him.

His heart raced. Damn, that dimple slayed him every time.

“He says hi back,” Suke said dryly. “I’m Suke, one of the harder working artists around here. I take it you know J.T.?”

Hope nodded. “Great place. I hadn’t realized it was down here.”

As she and Suke spoke, he watched them interact. Hope didn’t seem to care that Suke had tattoos up and down her arms, piercings in her nose and lip, and spiked black hair in a dare-to-be punk style. Nor did she seem to mind the way Suke was eye-fucking her.

“Hey.” He growled; he minded.

Suke grinned. “I’m leaving for the day. You need me to stick around and lock up? Maybe walk Hope out to her car?”

“Go.”

Suke chuckled and left.

“She’s nice.”

He laughed. “Suke? She busts our balls on a daily basis, but we love her. Now what brings you to the lion’s den?”

She grinned. “Is that what this is? The sign outside said Tull Paint & Body.”

“Yeah, a play on Auto Paint & Body, like a car paint shop. I worked for my dad before I opened the place, and some of him stuck.” Jesus, he was babbling.

“Tull?”

He shrugged, searching for calm. “My dad was a Jethro Tull fan. Sounded cool when I was twenty-five.” He paused, shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t tuck a stray strand of her golden hair back behind her ear. “What’s up, Hope?”

She flushed, now looking uncomfortable. “Ah, this is kind of awkward. I have a favor to ask.” She didn’t say any more.

She looked so damn adorable. He couldn’t help himself. He had to mess with her. “Okay. So you want a baby without the commitment. I get it. You want to make one right here or in the back room? Do you have some paperwork for me to sign first? You know, about rights for the kid?”

“What? No.” She blinked at him. “Have you done that before?”

“Nah, but I can’t think of a more awkward conversation. So now that I know you’re not here to use me and abuse me, what can I do for you?”

“Ah, actually…” Her face turned bright red.

He gaped. “Shit. Really?” He took a step closer. “You want to abuse me? I’m game.”

“J.T.” She blew out a breath. “I have a problem. And I kind of dragged you into it.”

“Color me intrigued.” He led her to the high-backed purple leather chairs by a coffee table, on which a print portfolio of their work lay, along with some other tattoo mags.

“Sorry,” Hope apologized. She crossed her legs to sit demurely in the chair, and his heart threatened to leap from his chest. He wondered if she felt the same sexual chemistry he had since the first time he’d laid eyes on her.

Probably not, since she didn’t seem affected by him. She was shy, gorgeous, and could have any guy she wanted with the crook of her finger. He couldn’t imagine why she needed his help, but whatever. He was game. And truth be told, he felt protective of her. She was a weird extension of family his sister had married into.

“Hope? Just tell me.”

“It’s my mother. She’s such a pain.” Hope glared, and he was taken aback by the fierceness out of a woman he’d never seen be anything but pleasant. “She was on me about dating some rich guy. A doctor this time. Then she was riding me about my job, my lifestyle, being boring. You name it. She jumped on my nerves and ground them to nothing.”

“Ah, sorry.” He still didn’t see what part he had to play in this.

“So I mentioned I was dating someone. A tattoo artist who had baby mommas everywhere and had done time. Have you done time? Because that would be good.”

He blinked. “Huh?’

Like a steamroller, she continued, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend the next time I have to go to dinner at Mom and Dad’s. And you need to be awful.”

He didn’t like the tone of this drama. “What? Play the big bad black man to scare your lily-white mom?”

She snorted. “Please. If only it was that easy to scare Linda Donnigan.”

He relaxed, more than glad to know she couldn’t care less about his skin color. “Then what do you need, exactly?”

“My mother loves men and women of all races, genders, and sexualities. But she’s a snob. It’s all about money and success to her. If you’re not dying to be president, you’re nothing.”

“President as in…?”

“The top of whatever your career is, or the actual POTUS. With Linda, it could be either,” she said wryly. “I have no drive to be more than Cam’s assistant right now. I work at my cousin’s investment firm, and I’m basically a glorified secretary. But I’m okay with that.”

“You don’t sound okay.” She sounded frustrated.

“I am. Mostly.” She sighed. “Look, none of this is your fault. I needed someone I thought my mother wouldn’t like.”

“That hurts.” He wasn’t lying.

“It’s not personal. She doesn’t know you, J.T. But she’s not a fan of tattoos at all. And you look tough. So I thought, who do I know who would freak my mother out?”

“Me?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I just need you to pretend to be my new boyfriend a few times. Then we can ‘break up’ and she’ll never know.”

“I have met your mom, you know. It was brief, at Del’s wedding. She might remember.” He frowned. “Then again, she was drinking that night.”

“She’s good like that.” Hope leaned closer and grabbed his hand.

The feel of her smaller palm against his had sweat break out on his forehead. He stared into her honey gold eyes and felt himself nodding. 

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Spotlight & Giveaway: Until There Was Us by Samantha Chase

Until There Was Us 

(Montgomery Brothers)

by Samantha Chase

Blurb:

He'll have to play his cards just right for her to take a chance on him...

Megan Montgomery has always been careful...except that one time she threw caution to the wind and hooked up with a sexy groomsman at her cousin's wedding. But that was two years ago—so why can't she stop thinking about Alex Rebat?

Alex has been living the good life. He loves his job, has a great circle of friends, and doesn't answer to anyone. The problem? There's only one woman he wants and she ran out on him after one amazing weekend. But now that Megan's coming back to town, Alex hopes he can convince her to take another chance on him...and on a future that can only be built together.

Montgomery Brothers Series:

Wait for Me (Book 1)

Trust in Me (Book 2)

Stay with Me (Book 3)

Return to You (Book 4)

Meant for You (Book 5)

I'll Be There (Book 6)

Until There Was Us (Book 7)

Available for purchase at

Kindle | Amazon Paperback | iBooks | Kobo | Nook

Excerpt

Tugging at the hem of her dress for the hundredth time, Megan silently cursed the fact that she’d let her mother talk her into it. The navy-blue fabric clung to every ample curve and was shorter than the dresses she normally wore, and all in all, she was feeling very self-conscious about the whole thing.

She was surrounded by family and knew she shouldn’t be feeling anything but happy to be here, but old insecurities still lingered. Okay, maybe they had resurfaced thanks to her ex constantly harping on her about losing weight. Megan wasn’t fat—she knew that—but she was definitely not slim. She envied her cousin Summer. She had the kind of body Megan had always wished she had—slim—and she looked good in everything. Whereas Megan had to worry about how every article of clothing she had would fit or if it would be too clingy.

Another tug at the hem of her dress as she looked around to see where Summer was. They didn’t get to see each other nearly enough and maybe…

“Excuse me?”

Megan turned and saw the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. He was tall with sandy-brown hair and a smile that seemed almost too perfect. She swallowed hard, convinced he couldn’t possibly want to talk to her.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, and Megan’s heart beat wildly in her chest.

She looked around and wondered whether someone had put him up to this. But he didn’t look the least bit insincere. If anything, he seemed slightly amused by her confusion.

She cleared her throat and nodded. “Um…yes. Thank you.”

His smile broadened, and it was almost lethal. He had dimples too. She had to stifle a sigh when she noticed them.

“I’m Alex Rebat,” he said, extending his hand to her. “I’m a friend of Zach’s. And you are?”

Blushing because his voice was as magnificent as the rest of him, she replied, “I’m Megan Montgomery. Zach’s cousin.”

She shook his hand, but he didn’t release hers. Instead, he led her onto the dance floor where a slow song was playing. At first, Megan felt a little self-conscious about dancing with a stranger, but as soon as Alex gently wrapped his arm around her waist, all negative thoughts disappeared.

They swayed together to the music as if they’d danced together for years.

They talked as if they’d known each other forever.

And they were both more than ready to move off the dance floor and find someplace quiet to talk after their fourth dance.

Alex kept her hand in his as he led her from the banquet room to the lobby and finally out to the garden. The sun had gone down, and the entire area was lit with hundreds of soft-white twinkly lights. To Megan it looked like something out of a fairy tale while she felt like she was living in the middle of one.

Hand in hand they walked along the paths as Alex told her about his job as a physical therapist, and the more he spoke, the more she wanted to know about him. He had confidence and passion as he spoke about his work and his life, and she found herself hanging on his every word. And when he asked about her—her job, her life—she felt inferior in comparison.

So she’d given him a brief overview of her IT career and her life in Albany before turning the conversation over to him. The smile he gave her told her he knew what she was doing.

“Not big on talking about yourself, huh?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Megan blushed as she shook her head. “There isn’t much to tell. My job is fairly boring compared to yours. What you do really makes a difference in people’s lives—and after seeing all you did for Zach, I’m in total awe of you.”

They stopped walking, and Alex moved so he was standing in front of her. “Don’t,” he said, his voice a little gruff. “Zach did all the hard work. I was merely there to help. Not every case is as successful as his. He had the drive to do it, and he worked hard to make it happen.”

Both his words and his voice were so intense that Megan was overwhelmed with the urge to reach out and touch him—not just hold his hand but…soothe him. Comfort him.

And she did.

Reaching up with her free hand, she gently caressed his face and heard his sharp intake of breath. This wasn’t her—she didn’t do things like this, wasn’t this forward—and yet she couldn’t help herself.

“Megan,” he said softly as his head lowered toward hers.

She wasn’t an overly romantic person and didn’t believe in things like this actually happening, and yet the instant Alex’s lips touched hers, Megan swore she saw fireworks. Normally she was a little more timid, inhibited, but something about Alex changed that. Wrapping her arms around him, she melted against him—reveling in the heat of his body, the feel of his lean frame against hers. The feeling must have been mutual because she heard a low growl come from him as he pulled her even closer.

Never before had she been kissed like this—it was the kind of kiss that started slowly, and they both sank into it until it kept going and neither wanted it to end. Megan’s hands raked up into his hair, and when they were finally forced to break apart for breath, in only a matter of seconds they dove in for another taste.

For a few glorious moments, they had been cocooned in their own little world out in the garden, but it didn’t take long for other wedding guests to start coming out and walking around, and the mood was broken. Alex never stopped touching her though—everywhere they went her hand was in his, and she found she was thankful for the constant connection.

Over the course of the wedding reception, they danced again and talked and laughed, and Megan was nearly bristling with anticipation by the time Gabriella threw the bouquet. At that point, she knew she and Alex could leave. When she noticed other guests getting up to go, she looked over at Alex and said, “So…”

He was sitting beside her, and the expression on his face told her everything she needed to know.

He wanted to leave.

And he wanted to leave with her.

Casually they walked around and said their goodbyes separately. Out in the lobby, Alex took her by the hand—or maybe that time she took his—and they made their way down the massive hallway that connected the banquet hall to the hotel. Several times Megan had looked around to make sure no one saw them—and not because she was embarrassed but because she didn’t want the interruption. If she didn’t get Alex alone soon, she swore she’d spontaneously combust!

The ride in the elevator seemed to take forever, and she swore the walk to her room was a mile long. But once they were inside and the door was closed?

Perfect.

About The Author

Samantha Chase is a New York Times and USA Today bestseller of contemporary romance. She released her debut novel in 2011 and currently has more than forty titles under her belt! When she’s not working on a new story, she spends her time reading romances, playing way too many games of Scrabble or Solitaire on Facebook, wearing a tiara while playing with her sassy pug Maylene…oh, and spending time with her husband of 25 years and their two sons in North Carolina.

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Spotlight & Giveaway: I Am Justice by Diana Muñoz Stewart

I Am Justice 

By Diana Muñoz Stewart

Blurb:

She's ready to start a war

Justice Parish takes down bad guys. Rescued from the streets by the world renowned Parish family, she joined their covert sisterhood of vigilante assassins. Her next target: a sex-trafficking ring in the war-torn Middle East. She just needs to get close enough to take them down...

He just wants peace

Sandesh Ross left Special Forces to found a humanitarian group to aid war-torn countries. But saving the world isn't cheap. Enter Parish Industriesand limitless funding, with one catch—their hot, prickly 'PR specialist', Justice Parish.

Their chemistry is instant and off-the-charts. But when Justice is injured and her cover blown, Sandesh has to figure out if he can reconcile their missions. With danger dogging their every move, their white-hot passion can change the world—if it doesn't destroy them first.

Available for purchase at 

Kindle | Audible | Amazon Paperback | Barnes & Noble | iBooks| IndieBound

Excerpt

Standing in the ornate bar, only half-full of patrons, with music playing softly, Sandesh felt Justice’s sultry invitation to dance run down his body like a hot finger.

He couldn’t control the hungry leer that traveled the silky, blue dress that spanned her body, her hips, and the satisfying curve of a great ass like a warm hand.

Damn, he wanted to rest his own hand against that fine ass, pull her to him. The short, midnight-blue dress showed off sun-drenched legs. Her nipples pressed against the deep-blue hue and stood at attention under the drape of fabric that swooped and rested against her breasts.

And, ah, her lips. So full.

So damn sure.

A grin that announced the game was won and dinner was ready all in one lazy, long predatory stretch. Part of his body throbbed in response. The rest of him was pretty damn annoyed.

Wasn’t she the one who had suggested they keep it PG? Was she playing games?

Justice’s eyes, soaked in velvet onyx and framed by midnight lashes, narrowed. “Okay, I give. You eat me up with your stare and then you hesitate. What is it with you? Do you have something against strong women?”

Sandesh snorted. “For someone so direct, you are seriously clueless.”

“I’m clueless? Buddy, you have no idea of the opportunity for friction and fun you are passing up right now.” He had to laugh. Had to. Not just because she was quick and funny, but because she was all of that—not afraid to speak her mind, heat and energy, and the promise of friction and fun.

His fingers left the edge of the cold espresso and sought out her hand. He needed to feel all of that energy and fire pressed up against him. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

She didn’t resist. Another surprise. She’d taken his hesitation personally. He’d thought she’d make him pay for that. But she didn’t. She simply bequeathed him with a that’s-more-like-it smile. Seriously, this woman was scorching hot.

“At this Moment” by Billy Vera and the Beaters played through the speakers. Not what he would’ve expected here.

He pulled her to him as they hit the empty dance floor. She curved into him, drawing a sound from his throat that was as involuntary as breathing. She purred into his ear.

“That’s one.”

His hand slid along the silk fabric of her dress, down her back to her smooth, round, and hot-as-hell ass. And there he went. Zero to sixty. He cleared his throat. “One?”

She ran a tongue over his earlobe and inside his ear.

That warm, wet stroke sent tremors zinging low into his body. Her sultry voice meshed with that teasing tongue and vibrated through him. “I’m counting how many different ways I can get you to moan.”

He growled, a raw, desperate sound that even to his own muffled ears sounded like raging intent.

She laughed. “Two.”

Okay. Definitely time to divert the conversation. Complex math, anyone? Or a subject destined to slow down any hot moment. “Have you spoken to your mother about our progress here?”

She laughed, as if she could see him wrestling control from the moment. She moved her mouth close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck. “No. But I’d like to meet your mother. You’ve met mine. It’s only fair. What’s she like?”

“You’d like her. At least who she used to be.”

“Used to be?”

“She’s been sick for a few years. Early-onset Alzheimer’s. She’s at a care center. I have friends and family scheduled to sit and read with her every night I’m away.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She looked past him for a moment, then returned her gaze to his. “So what you’re telling me is that while you’re away on your humanitarian mission, you’ve organized it so your mother will always be watched over by a close friend or family member. You do realize I already want to sleep with you. You don’t have to sweeten the pot.”

He laughed. Only this woman would think talking about his mom—meant to cool things off—was sexy.

“Sandesh, I’m serious.” She began to roll her hips.

His eyes rolled back in his head.

That. Felt. So. Fucking. Good. Nothing like a violent hard-on to give a woman the upper hand. Her hand. His hard-on. Settle. Settle.

Fuck it.

His lips came down on hers. There was an instant and overwhelming zing of electricity. Mindless of where he was, he tasted her, tickled, and teased her mouth open. Her wet response, the moan against his lips as his tongue played back, caused fire to erupt down his body.

Dubdubdub, dubdubdub, pulsated through him. He couldn’t tell what throbbed faster—his cock or his heart. He deepened the kiss. She opened wider, accelerated the roll of her hips.

Time to go. Time to get her off the dance floor and into his bed. Or her bed. Which room was closer?

The phone in his pocket buzzed. Justice stiffened in his arms. She pulled her sweet mouth away. “You should answer it.”

He tightened his grip on her. He ran his nose down her face, inhaled her lavender-warmed-by-the-sun scent.

“Ignore it.” Please. God. Ignore it.

“Your mission.” Justice shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

Oh. Shit. Not happening. He looked into her eyes, her endless depths, midnight-and-mystery eyes. She was serious.

She stepped back.

Fuck.

He answered the phone. It was Salma. The tremor in her voice doused the fire in his body. A tsunami would’ve had less impact.

“Sandesh, please, I need your help.” 

About The Author

Diana Muñoz Stewart is the award-winning, romantic suspense author of the Band of Sisters series, which includes I Am Justice (Sourcebooks Casablanca). She lives in eastern Pennsylvania in an often chaotic and always welcoming home that—depending on the day—can include husband, kids, extended family, friends, and a canine or two. When not writing, Diana can be found kayaking, doing sprints up her long driveway—harder than it sounds–practicing yoga on her deck, flying, climbing, or hiking with the man who’s had her heart since they were teens. 

Find Diana Online:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Spotlight & GIveaway: Caught Up in a Cowboy by Jennie Marts

Caught Up in a Cowboy

(Cowboys of Creedence, #1)

By Jennie Marts

Blurb:

Rockford James was raised as a tried-and-true cowboy in a town crazy about ice hockey. Rock is as hot on the ice as he is on a horse, and the NHL snapped him up. Now, injuries have permanently benched him. Body and pride wounded, he returns to his hometown ranch to find that a lot has changed. The one thing that hasn't? His feelings for high school sweetheart and girl-next-door Quinn Rivers. 

Quinn had no choice but to get over Rock after he left. Teenaged and heartbroken, she had a rebound one night stand that ended in single motherhood. Now that Rock's back—and clamoring for a second chance—Quinn will do anything to avoid getting caught up in this oh-so-tempting cowboy…

Available for purchase at 

Audible | Kindle | Amazon Paperback | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo | IndieBound


Excerpt

He snuck a glance at her as he drove past the barn. Her wavy hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but wisps of it had come loose and fell across her neck in little curls. She looked good—really good. A thick chunk of regret settled in his gut, and he knew letting her go had been the biggest mistake of his life.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it. Images of Quinn haunted his dreams, and he often wondered what it would be like now if only he’d brought her with him instead of leaving her behind. If he had her to wave to in the stands at his games or to come home to at night instead of an empty house. But he’d screwed that up, and he felt the remorse every time he returned to Rivers Gulch.

He’d been young and arrogant—thought he had the world by the tail. Scouts had come sniffing around when he was in high school, inflating his head and his own self-importance. And once he started playing in the big leagues, everything about this small town—including Quinn—had just seemed…well…small. Too small for a big shot like him.

He was just a kid—and an idiot. But by the time he’d realized his mistake and come back for her, it was too late.

Hindsight was a mother.

And so was Quinn.

Easing the car up in front of the house, he took in the festive balloons and streamers tied to the railings along the porch. So much of the house looked the same, the long porch that ran the length of the house, the wooden rocking chairs, and the swing hanging from the end.

They’d spent a lot of time on that swing, his arm around her, talking and laughing, as his foot slowly pushed them back and forth.

She opened the car door, but he put a hand on her arm and offered her one of his most charming smiles. “It’s good to see you, Quinn. You look great. Even in a pirate outfit.”

Her eyes widened and she blinked at him, for once not having a sarcastic reply. He watched her throat shift as she swallowed, and he yearned to reach out and run his fingers along her slender neck.

“Well, thanks for the lift.” She turned away and stepped out of the car.

Pushing open his door, he got out and reached for the bicycle, lifting it out of the back seat before she had a chance. He carried it around and set it on the ground in front of her. “I’d like to meet him. You know, Max. If that’s okay.”

“You would?” Her voice was soft, almost hopeful, but still held a note of suspicion. “Why?”

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say as they drove up to the ranch, but now his mouth had gone dry. The collar of his cotton T-shirt clung to his neck, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Dang—he hadn’t had sweaty palms since he was in high school. He wiped them on his jeans. He was known for his charm and usually had a way with women, but not this woman. This one had him tongue-tied and nervous as a teenager.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen Quinn, I know I screwed up. I was young and stupid and a damn fool. And I’m sorrier than I could ever say. But I can’t go back and fix it. All I can do is move forward. I miss this place. I miss having you in my life. I’d like to at least be your friend.”

She opened her mouth, and he steeled himself for her to tell him to go jump in the lake. Or worse. But she didn’t. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, as if trying to decide if he was serious or not. “Why now? After all these years?”

He shrugged, his gaze drifting as he stared off at the distant green pastures. He’d let this go on too long, let the hurt fester. It was time to make amends—to at least try. He looked back at her, trying to express his sincerity. “Why not? Isn’t it about time?”

She swallowed again and gave a small nod of her head. A tiny flicker of hope lit in his gut as he waited for her response.

He could practically see her thinking—watch the emotions cross her face in the furrow of her brow and the way she chewed on her bottom lip. Oh man, he loved it when she did that—the way she sucked her bottom lip under her front teeth always did crazy things to his insides.

“Okay. We can try being friends.” She gave him a sidelong glance, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “On one condition.”

Uh oh. Conditions were never good.

About The Author

Jennie Marts is the USA Today bestselling author of award-winning books filled with love, laughter, and always a happily ever after. She is living her own happily ever after in the mountains of Colorado with her husband, two dogs, and a parakeet that loves to tweet to the oldies. She’s addicted to Diet Coke, adores Cheetos, and believes you can’t have too many books, shoes, or friends.

You can find Jennie at

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Spotlight & Giveaway: Hot Pursuit by Julie Ann Walker

Hot Pursuit 

(Black Knights Inc. Book 11) 

Julie Ann Walker

Blurb

Welcome to Black Knights Inc.

What appears to be a tricked-out motorcycle shop on the South Side of Chicago is actually headquarters for the world's most elite covert operatives. Deadly, dangerous, and determined, they'll steal your breath and your heart.

Fighting for his life is pretty much standard operating procedure for Christian Watson, former SAS Officer. Doing it with bossy, beautiful BKI office manager Emily Scott in tow is another matter entirely.

Available for purchase at 

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Excerpt

What was he doing?

What the bloody hell was he doing?

Emily didn’t realize it, but all her acts of caring, her selfless moments of kindness—from waking him from his nightmare to pulling him into the cab of the pickup truck—had torn open his chest, ripped out his heart, and served it up on a platter.

Then, when she had stepped in front of him, ready to take a bullet that was bloody well meant for him, he had stopped pretending that what he felt for her was lust mixed with a heavy dose of vexation. Stopped pretending that he wasn’t completely arse over teakettle about everything she did, everything she said. Each smile. Each laugh. Each witty quip.

In that moment, he had known. Heart. On. A. Platter.

All she had to do was take it.

Unfortunately, he was the one taking.

Taking a kiss she hadn’t granted. Taking a taste she didn’t return. Taking advantage of a beastly situation.

Had he lost his mind? Had he forgotten the unwritten rule? The one that was bold, underlined, and all in caps?

Not to mention, he’d lost control of himself, of the moment. He blamed it on the memory of Emily in that bastard’s grip. The sight of her there—a pistol to her head, her eyes wide with fear, but her jaw gritted tight because she refused to give in to it—was forever tattooed onto the backs of his eyelids. He knew he’d see it when he closed his eyes at night.

It took effort, but he ripped his mouth away from Emily’s and dropped his hands. Curling his fingers into fists, he locked his jaw until his molars begged for mercy.

“Whaaa?” She blinked up at him through the rain in confusion.

“Sorry.” He ground out. The word was guttural. Hard. “I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head, water flying from the ends of his hair. “Just…sorry, okay?”

Her mouth opened in a bewildered little O. That mouth that tasted like mint toothpaste with a lingering hint of buttered toast. His favorite flavor used to be Welsh cakes, but now it was Emily. Emily and her mint toothpaste with lingering hints of buttered toast.

“That won’t happen again,” he assured her before grabbing her hand and towing her toward the others.

He had thought for sure the man in the black pants and the white shirt was dead. Ben’s shot looked as if it had drilled the bloke directly in the heart. Which meant Christian felt like a total prat for stopping to ask Emily why she had stepped in front of him—for stopping to kiss her—when they arrived in time to hear the decidedly alive man whisper his name. “Philippe Dubois.”

“You’re Boss’s friend,” Ace said, applying pressure to Philippe’s wound. “You’re the former Armée de L’Air commandant.”

“Oui. C’est moi,” Philippe managed, water dripping from his chin and earlobes. He wasn’t wheezing. That was good. Meant the bullet hadn’t collapsed his lung.

“Don’t try to talk, Philippe,” Ace told him. “Rusty, call airport security.”

Christian was already pulling his mobile from his soaking hip pocket. The rain had let up. No longer a deluge, it was now more of a steady drip. “We don’t need security. We need an ambulance. This man needs to go to hospital.”

He dialed 999 without hesitation and waited for his call to connect. Dropping his free hand back to his side, he was startled when Emily grabbed it, threading her fingers through his. They felt dainty, delicate. And freezing wet. He desperately wanted to kiss them warmer, kiss them dry.

Glancing at her, he blinked the water from his lashes but couldn’t stop the questions in his eyes. So you forgive me? For taking without asking? For kissing you when you’ve given me no indication you were interested?

Before she could answer, an operator’s voice sounded in his ear, all efficient and bored. After explaining the nature of Philippe’s wound and what had happened in the vaguest of terms, he gave the operator their location. When she asked for his name, he growled, “That’s not what’s bloody important. What’s bloody important is a man’s been shot and needs help. Hurry!” He abruptly hung up. “Help is on the way,” he announced.

Philippe’s white shirt was soaked with blood despite the pressure Ace applied.

“Damnit,” Christian growled, looking around for something to stanch the bleeding. Nothing else for it, he decided, dropping Emily’s hand—he really, truly hated doing that—and shrugging out of his coat. Next came his sweater. He tossed both pieces of clothing to her.

His white cotton undershirt was wet and sticking to his skin, but it would have to do.

About the Author

Julie Ann Walker is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of award-winning romantic suspense. She has won the Book Buyers Best Award, been nominated for the National Readers Choice Award, the Bookseller's Best Award, the Australian Romance Reader Awards, and the Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA award. Her books have been described as "alpha, edgy, and downright hot." Most days you can find Julie on her bicycle along the lake shore in Chicago or blasting away at her keyboard, trying to wrangle her capricious imagination into submission.

You can find Julie at

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