It’s here! It’s here! Our invitation to Eden has arrived and today…we begin the journey. The first three books in the Invitation to Eden series are here, so I thought I’d take a minute to explain a little bit about this series. It’s the culmination of months’ worth of planning by 27 amazing authors. Each of the stories shares the same setting, Eden, an island paradise that is beautiful, isolated and…magical. Now…do you have to read all the books or read them in a certain order? No. Think of each book as a different episode of Fantasy Island. However, believe me, you don’t want to miss any of these stories!
So…without further ado…here are the first three Eden books. Out today!
Escape From Reality by Adriana Hunter
When curvy single and struggling romance author Leila Connors receives a mysterious invitation to spend an all-expense paid week on a tropical island, it simply seems too good to be true. Who is responsible for sending the invitation? Why does the envelope smell of dominant male possession? And most importantly, why her? With a string of failed relationships and a career on the down-slide, Leila feels she has nothing to lose and agrees to the trip. But when she arrives at her destination, far away from everything she knows, she can’t help but wonder if she made a mistake. That is until she comes face to face with the incredibly handsome Sebastian Phillips, a tortured stranger with dark secrets, and a man who will take without asking. With just one touch he awakens a desperate need within her. Before too long Leila finds herself caught up in a game of irresistible obsession, where truths are exposed, and the dangerously blurred line between fantasy and reality threaten to drive her to the point of no return.
Jetting to Martinique for a modeling assignment with three of Europe’s hottest magazine photographers—Gustave, Fabian, and Leon—should’ve been easy, breezy beautiful. Never did I expect to look up and see a hole in the ceiling of our plane that was bigger in size than my Birkin bag.
Shit! We’re nose-diving toward Eden Island. I pictured how my New York Times obituary might read when I’m gone, “Taddy Brill, Manhattanite, dethroned descendant of the Austrian House of Brillford royalty, dies at age eighteen, penniless, unloved, and a virgin.” I swear this crap only happens to me. Suddenly, Leon pulls me with Fabian and Gustave. Adrenaline racing through me, our bodies clung as one. We prepared to…crash.The Undergrad Years is a New Adult contemporary miniseries about first loves, independence, and everlasting friendships.
Reader warning: Contains mature content intended for readers 17 and up.
Interact with Avery while reading this story on Instagram and Twitter @AveryAster using the hashtags #UndergradYears #NewAdult. Swag and reader contests can be found on Avery’s blog at: AveryAster.com
You ever really think that you’ll win the lottery? Meet Mr. Right? How about two Mr. Rights? Somehow the universe is handing me everything I want, and I don’t like it. Not one little bit. Because just when you get all your dreams handed to you on a silver platter, that’s when an airplane dumps its sewage on your house. Or your mama’s diabetes takes a bad turn. Or your mobile phone gets stuck in your hoohaw.(What? It happens…) Boring old average me got everything I wanted already, moving from small-town Ohio to big-city Boston to follow my heart. So when the fancy invitation offering me a pile of money to come with the band, Random Acts of Crazy, to perform on an island resort and be their manager arrived, I thought it was a cosmic joke. Enough money to help my mama get what she needed, five days in sunny paradise, and a shot at greatness for the band? Unreal. One big shoe was waiting to drop. On my head. Just like no one really ever finds a naked man wearing only a guitar standing by the side of the road hitchhiking and ends up falling in love with him and his friend and moving halfway across the country for true love, no one gets an invitation to come to what turns out to be a resort where people make what me and Joe and Trevor do together look like a chaste peck on the cheek. But… Well. I guess these things do happen.
I know you’ve been waiting for this one! Well, the wait is finally over. Lexi Blake and Shayla Black’s latest installment in their Masters of Menage series is finally here!
Their Virgin Secretary
Contemporary Erotic Romance/Ménage à quatre
Three determined bosses…
Tate Baxter, Eric Cohen, and Kellan Kent are partners for one of the most respected law practices in Chicago. But these three masters of the courtroom also share a partnership in the bedroom, fulfilling the darkest needs of their female submissives night after night. Everything was fine—until they hired Annabelle Wright as their administrative assistant.
One beautiful secretary…
Belle felt sure she’d hit the jackpot with her job, but in the last year, the three gorgeous attorneys have become far more than her bosses. They’re her friends, her protectors, and in Belle’s dreams, they’re her lovers, too. But she’s given her heart to them all, so how can she choose just one?
An unforgettable night…
When her bosses escort her to a wedding, drinks and dancing turn into foreplay and fantasy. Between heated kisses, Belle admits her innocence. Surprise becomes contention and tempers flare. Heartbroken and unwilling to drive them apart, Belle leaves the firm and flees to New Orleans.
That leads to danger.
Resolved to restore her late grandmother’s home, she hopes she can move on without the men. Then Kellan, Tate, and Eric show up at her doorstep, seeking another chance. But something sinister is at work in the Crescent City and its sights are set on her. Before the trio can claim Annabelle for good, they just might have to save her life.
Today marks the release of not one, but two stories in the Big Easy series. Well…sort of. Prior to today, you could only purchase Crash Point as part of the Riding Desire: Bad Boy Bikers box set. But now…it’s available to purchase individually as well.
Chance has brought Blake Mills back into her life. The textbook bad boy Chloe gave her young body and tender love to ten long years ago. He betrayed her trust, broke her heart, stole from her family…proved just how bad he truly was. Her fury still rages a decade later–so why does she want him more than ever?
Blake never stopped wanting Chloe Lewis. Through years of bad choices, Chloe was his guiding light, leading him away from a life of crime to turn him into the man he’s become, a respectable, decorated member of the NOPD. Now, seeing her again, Blake understands the mere memory of their love, their combustible lust, will never be enough.
When they reach the crash point, will love be enough to save them?
“Chloe. Look at me.”
Her eyelids flittered open, her vision clearly fuzzy. He waited until her focus returned. He saw the moment it happened because a crease formed in her brow. They’d acted on impulse, neither of them considering the consequences of what they were doing until now.
Blake’s heart raced and his jaw clenched as he resisted the overwhelming need to thrust, to pound, to fuck.
“I won’t be another regret.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I know you regret what happened between us all those years ago and I wish there was some way I could go back in time and change what I did, but I can’t. I can’t undo the hurt, Chloe. Can’t fix the mistakes.”
“But I’m telling you right now, I can’t be another regret in your life. If that’s what this is going to be, say so and I’ll stop.”
She didn’t speak for several tense moments. Blake held his tongue, gave her time to decide while silently praying he’d have the strength to leave her if that was what she asked.
Finally, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “I don’t want you to stop.”
How much is she willing to risk for a forbidden fantasy?
Though Bella Carper has crushed on Justin and Ned since her first day on the job, she’s smart enough to know a ménage with her hot bosses is probably number one on the list of workplace no-nos. But a frigid genius wouldn’t say no to their exceptionally tempting offer — a no-holds-barred night of wicked fantasies at a local sex club.
Justin and Ned believe in propriety in the workplace, but falling for their sexy graphic artist has blurred the line between professional and personal. These Big Easy men might surprise their small-town girl with their bedroom habits. But the biggest shock could come the morning after…when Bella discovers what they really want.
“Open your legs. I want to see exactly how wet you are.” Justin tugged on her knee as he issued the command, then felt Ned’s hand on the other. Her thighs parted easily as her skirt inched higher. She tried to tug it down, but Ned caught her wrist, his voice deep, stern.
“Ned,” she whispered, uncertainty creeping in again. There was a difference between talking and doing. They’d test her limits tonight, push her completely out of her comfort zone.
Justin leaned closer, trying to set her mind at ease. Ned was always too intense, his need to control a woman coming out stronger, darker. While Justin didn’t think Bella was balking, she was still a novice and probably not completely confident in her decision to pursue this adventure. “Trust us, Bells. We’ll never hurt you.”
Her expression cleared, showing him just how much faith she had in them. It twisted Justin’s insides, made him warm, happy.
She touched his face gently. “I do trust you. Completely. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Unable to resist any longer, Justin ran his hand along the inside of her leg. He sat close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. The heat of her pussy hit him before his fingers reached their goal. Their girl was on fire.
Then he hit pay dirt. Bella’s eyes closed as he stroked his finger along her slit. She was heat and moisture and sex incarnate.
Ned leaned closer. “Don’t close your eyes, Bella. Look at what’s happening on that stage.”
Bella lifted her eyelids slowly and he watched her struggle to focus. Justin studied her face and realized when she recognized what was happening in the performance.
“She misbehaved,” Ned whispered as Justin circled her clit. Bella bit her lip so tightly, he worried she’d split the skin and draw blood.
Ned continued to talk about the show onstage. “Her teacher is angry with her. He’s punishing her.”
The actor onstage—the professor—had bent his naughty schoolgirl over his desk and taken out a ruler. The scene was an old, familiar one, but Justin could tell from Bella’s responses it was speaking to some hidden desires. Did she like the idea of being punished by an authority figure?
She slid down on her chair—just a little, but enough—to allow Justin better access to her pussy. He didn’t accept her invitation, determined to crank the heat even higher. While the silent actions of her body told him she wanted a stronger touch, he wouldn’t give in until she was pleading, begging. He dragged his finger over her clit once more, making the touch lighter this time.
She groaned softly.
“We’ll punish you the same way the next time you’re late to work.”
Bella’s gaze jerked to Ned’s face. No doubt she wanted to reiterate the time limit she’d placed on this encounter, but neither of them was in the mood to continue that pretense. Justin pressed on her clit again, distracting her before moving lower to circle the entrance to her pussy.
Bella’s breathing became more labored. Between Justin’s touches and Ned’s dirty promises, she appeared to be losing her grip, relinquishing control of her inhibitions.
“We’ll pull you into my office, bend you over the desk, lift your skirt and yank down your panties.”
“I don’t wear skirts to work,” Bella whispered, though it was clear she was turned-on by Ned’s story.
“You will from now on. We’re changing the dress code for you.”
She looked as if she would argue, so Justin went for more distraction, pressing the tip of his finger into her wet pussy.
She closed her eyes, her expression betraying how much she loved this. She gave herself up to the moment.
“I’ll pull a ruler out of my desk drawer and Justin and I will take turns spanking you. I want to see that sexy ass of yours blush as prettily as your cheeks are right now.”
Justin pressed his finger deeper, realizing Ned’s fantasy wasn’t just working against Bella. His cock was so stiff it hurt. The tight clench of her pussy didn’t help. She felt like heaven.
Ned added more fuel to the fire building in her body. “Once we’ve finished punishing you, we’ll take turns fucking you from behind. You’re going to spend hours with our cocks inside you from now on, beauty.”
Lexxie Couper has a NEW RELEASE. It’s part of the phenomenal Heart of Fame series. Want hot rockers? Oh yeah…she’s got ‘em!
Heart of Fame, Book 6
After a horrific accident robs rock legend Levi Levistan and his long-time partner, Corbin, of their dream of becoming parents, Levi is lost in a sea of grief. Until he runs into an old high school flame and their chemistry reignites.
Corbin Smith is intent on bridging the chasm between their hearts. But witnessing his lover’s steamy onstage kiss with a woman jolts him to the core with sexual arousal. And he realizes the key to their healing is standing in Levi’s arms.
As an erotic romance editor, nothing much unsettles Sonja Stone. She’s not even surprised at her body’s powerful reaction to Levi’s kiss. But when Corbin approaches them, eyes smoldering with hunger, his suggestion shakes her to the core.
Sensing their unspoken wounds, Sonja agrees to take a chance on a threesome. Their union is explosively perfect, but something is holding Levi back from sealing their searing emotional connection. Something that could destroy their love once and for all…
This book contains angst, torment, sarcasm, humour, scorching m/m sex, searing m/f sex and explosive m/m/f sex. And a memory of a horrific past that may disturb some readers.
He vaulted up onto the stage with minimal fuss, his movements fluid and far too sexy for Sonja’s peace of mind. Straightening beside her, he brushed down the fronts of his thighs with two slow swipes, his dark eyes never releasing hers.
“Old boyfriend, is all?” he repeated on a whisper, teasing her earlier dismal.
Sonja let her lips curl into a mocking smile. “You’re lucky I even remember you.”
He grinned, plucked the mic from her left hand and tugged her closer to his body. “Levi—” his voice caressed her wildly unstable lust, “—Levi Levistan. I think we dated once, right?”
Before she could answer, he twisted a look over his shoulder toward the karaoke MC standing openmouthed at the control deck on the side of the stage. “Anything by Nick Blackthorne?”
The MC’s head bobbed up and down. Fast. Frenzied almost.
Levi swung back to face Sonja. “Ready?”
She shook her head.
He laughed. And right there and then Sonja knew he was going to break her heart again. It might very well happen the second their duet finished and he went back to his famous life. It might happen before the sun rose if she was lucky enough to buy him a drink. But at some point, she was going to be crying over him again. Because Levi Levistan had never been one for laughing often, or aloud. When he did, when he truly gave himself to the happy response, his laugh was aural Viagra.
Long before she’d fallen in love with his sexual prowess or his musical talent, she’d fallen in love with his laugh.
The very laugh he was giving her now.
Sonja closed her eyes, ground her teeth and, with the same sense of fatality she’d existed in every day of their teenage romance, threw herself into the moment.
Fighting what she’d felt for Levi was never, ever an option.
Opening her eyes, she fixed him with a steady gaze. “All right, let’s—”
The music for Nick Blackthorne’s “Whispers in the Night” began before she could finish. And before she could steal herself against what was to come, prepare herself, shield herself, Levi opened his mouth and began to sing.
Her knees buckled. They always had when he’d sung back in their dating days. His voice was husky and a little scratchy, like he was always recovering from a sore throat. But damn, when it flowed from him in song that rough quality gave the words a rawness unlike any other.
Like most bass players, he rarely sang solo. It was a damn shame, in Sonja’s opinion. She knew why it was the case—Levi wanted it that way—but the rock world needed to hear more of his voice. She wasn’t just being biased. That was the way it was.
A soft nudge in her ribs made her blink.
Levi grinned at her, mirth dancing in his eyes, music throbbing about them in a tempestuous beat. Music. Just music.
Heat flooded Sonja’s cheeks as the realization she’d yet to sing a note slammed into her. Jerking her mic up to her mouth, she opened her lips and damn near spat out the lyrics…from two lines ago.
Levi laughed incredulously while singing the correct lyrics, making the words sound far more devilish than Sonja suspected Nick Blackthorne had ever intended.
The audience laughed along with him and by the next line, also sung with jovial perfection by Levi, Sonja finally caught up and joined in, losing herself to the music. And Levi’s company. When compared to being with Levi, rock didn’t stand a chance.
Oh yeah, you’re about to get your heart broken again, aren’t you, woman?
Five minutes later, the last note of “Whispers in the Night” faded away. A split second of silence filled the bar and then, like the first clap of thunder in a storm, the patrons of Do Re Me erupted in wild applause and cheers.
Flushed with sheer happiness, Sonja turned to Levi and grinned. “You still got it, Stan.”
An unreadable expression flittered across his face, as if her statement shocked him. “I do, don’t I?” And before she could answer him, he spun to the karaoke control. “Mind if we do another, my good man?”
The crowd’s cheers and woops of delight grew louder.
He turned back to Sonja. “Ready to go again?”
She cocked an eyebrow, her heart fast in her throat. “With you?”
Warm, strong fingers laced through hers, yanking her stare to her hand and then up to Levi’s face. He was holding her hand. Holding her hand and smiling at her. Oh God, he was smiling at her. “C’mon, Sonny,” he said, and Sonja didn’t miss the hope in his voice. She’d heard it before. When he’d introduced her to his parents. Before they scoffed at him and told him he was lucky to get a girl, considering how scruffy and moody he was.
She stared into his dark eyes, his fingers firm on hers as if he feared she was going to bolt and leave him up there on the stage alone.
His request wrenched at her heart and, mustering all the feisty spunk left over in her jaded well, she smirked. “Only if you reckon you can keep up with me.”
He laughed. “Never could before, but I always loved trying.”
For two days only, Elemental Pleasure will be free at ARe. It was chosen as part of the Series Showcase promotion.
The small foyer was exactly as she remembered. The room was small enough to be mistaken for a closet if anyone who was not a member found their way in. The walls were paneled wood, the floor covered with the same carpet as the outer room. An empty book cart took up a third of the space. Turning to her right, she examined the panels. Numbers were etched into the wood, seemingly at random.
The Grand Master’s instructions said she was to open box thirty-one. Pressing her finger against the number, she felt a click. When she pulled her hand back, a small tray popped out of the wall. Reaching in, she retrieved a key and a piece of paper.
You’ll find garments in Room C. Right hand corridor.
Wait until you hear the bell.
The note was written by hand. Carly shivered a little. The Grand Master was the head of the Trinity Masters and a man of unspeakable power and influence. No one knew who he was, though there were plenty of rumors. At the Trinity Masters annual gatherings, meetings hidden inside library benefit galas, Carly had done her share of gossiping about who he might be.
Now she wasn’t curious, she was afraid.
Note and key in hand, she moved the cart out of the way and—with another push—opened the door hidden in the back wall. It revealed a narrow elevator. When she pressed the button, the door opened and Carly stepped in. She took a moment to gather herself as the small elevator took her down to the sub-basement. When it stopped and the door slid to the side, she bit the inside of her cheek to center herself.
A long marble hallway stretched out in front of her. Columns supported the double-high arched ceiling, which was a smaller replica of the grand hallway above. Her footsteps rang as she made her way along the hall, the sound bouncing off the walls to echo down to the grand double doors at the far end. There were no books here to muffle the sound. At the midway point, there were openings in the walls, one to the right, another to the left. She’d been down the left hallway before. There were changing rooms there, elegant as the locker rooms in a fancy spa. For ceremonies, all members wore robes to protect their identities, and those with the most need for secrecy had private dressing rooms.
As she turned right, she wondered if that was where she was going—to a private dressing room. Now that she had been called to the altar by the Grand Master, she supposed she’d earned a private dressing room.
After all, she was about to meet her husbands.
Or maybe it would be husband and wife.
Her hands shook, and it took her a few tries to get the key into the lock on Room C. Once in, she found a small, but well-appointed room. A white robe waited on a hook. Normally they wore gray.
Setting her purse on the vanity, she touched the robe. “It’s like a wedding dress,” she whispered to herself.
It would be the only wedding dress she’d ever wear.
In exchange for the Trinity Masters’ help, she’d given up her future, specifically her choice of whom she would marry.
Throughout history, the world had been secretly controlled by relationships that defied societal standards. Some of those relationships had come to light, the most famous of which had been Vice-Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, who’d been in a relationship with Lady Emma Hamilton and Sir William Hamilton. The gossip papers of the nineteenth century had called it an affair between Lady Emma and Lord Nelson, but it had been so much more. The three-way union between them had helped end the Napoleonic Wars, and both Emma and William had mourned Lord Nelson after his death.
The Trinity Masters believed that when three people were united, it created a bond far stronger than the pedestrian two-person marriage, and that these triads—if made between those with power and intellect—had the capability to change the world.
Carly slid out of her clothes, leaving on the corset-bra, panties and garter set she’d bought especially for today. She closed her eyes, trying to still her nerves.
She’d joined the Trinity Masters at nineteen, when the idea of some crazy secret ménage marriage had seemed exciting, elicit. In her twenties, she’d enjoyed herself, knowing there was no need for her to worry about falling in love or getting married. By the time she was twenty-eight and her friends were married, some expecting children, she finally understood what she’d really given up in her quest for success.
However, the consequences of crossing the Trinity Masters were too dire to contemplate, and so here she was, waiting to meet the people she’d share the rest of her life with. That thought sent another shard of panic through her before she beat it down.
She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror, then raised the hood and tugged the chain out from under the robe so it lay on her chest in plain sight, the triangle glinting in the low light. Carly had never shirked from a challenge…or a commitment. She wouldn’t begin now.
Taking a seat on a velvet chair, she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.
A bell rang, the deep sound vibrating through her. She looked up as a door in the wall opposite where she sat opened.
Rising to her feet, Carly threw back her shoulders, lifted her head and walked through.
Quarterback Alex Dare, had it all — an all-star football career and his choice of willing women — until a severe injury forces him into early retirement. Social worker Madison Evans grew up in foster homes and knows what it means to have-not. She isn’t impressed by Alex Dare’s wealth or charm. Not since she fell hard for him once before, only to discover she was just one of his too-easy conquests.
This time around Madison refuses to succumb to Alex so easily. But Alex wants Madison. And if there is one thing Alex does well, it’s to get what he wants. Can he convince Madison to take a risk and dare to love?
Robin Williams quoted this poem in Dead Poet’s Society (love that movie) and Apple’s iPad commercials reminded me of it once more. Go Walt Whitman! The man with the…
Thought I’d start something new on my blog and share a list of monthly releases. Welcome to April’s reading! The list includes books by writers I love!
Today marks the release of The Back-Up Plan. It’s the fourth book in my Second Chances series. This time, no-nonsense lawyer, Kristen, discovers that nothing about falling in love makes sense. Especially when her heart sets its sights on the last man on the planet she wants to spend the rest of her life with, her womanizing law partner, Jason. All rise. Court is now in session!
Just how legally binding is a promise made on a cocktail napkin?
Second Chances, Book 4
Kristen Grey has always been married to her work, but as her fortieth birthday looms, she begins to wonder if that’s all there is to life. When her friend Zoey suggests she come up with a goal for a second chance at happiness, the first idea to pop into Kristen’s mind falls out of her mouth—to find a husband.
One night, after a few too many shots of vodka, it falls out of her mouth again, in front of the last man she wants to hear it. Her annoying, cocky law partner, Jason Mitchell. She’s shocked when he vows to help in her quest to find a man.
After all, he has a vested interest in her success. Years ago, they foolishly made a pact that if they hadn’t found “the one” by age forty, they’d marry each other. Time is running out.
Problem is, as Jason and Kristen try to help each other find love, it becomes more and more apparent that maybe the back-up plan isn’t such a bad option after all.
Warning: The heroine in this story has no objection to how her law partner likes to recess. Legal eagle? Nope. Spread eagle.
Jason stood when a slow song started and the singer on the stage began to croon “Unchained Melody” every bit as beautifully as The Righteous Brothers.
He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
She looked around the bar. “No one else is dancing.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care.”
She accepted his hand and let him lead her to an empty spot in front of the stage. Then he wrapped her in his arms and they began to sway. Soon other people followed suit, coupling up to join them on the tiny, makeshift dance floor.
“One of the top five love songs ever,” Jason murmured in her ear.
“Really? You think so? I’ve never been a big fan.”
He pulled back so he could see her face. “Are you kidding me?”
She shook her head and crinkled her nose.
“Oh man. What the hell happened to your heart, Tin Man? This is a very romantic song.”
She grinned. “God. Please tell me you’re not one of those people who goes for mushy-gushy crap like this.”
They were still holding each other and moving in time, their conversation spoken in hushed whispers. Though Jason pretended to be annoyed with her response, she could see the spark in his eye that confirmed he loved their sparring as much as she did.
“You’re in serious danger of being held in contempt of love court. You have one chance for reprieve or I’ll have to lock you up in my Audi and bombard you with romantic songs until you break.”
She feigned a shudder.
“So what song makes you melt inside?”
She pretended to consider her answer, then said, “‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’. Def Leppard.”
Jason groaned. “You wanna try again or do I need to get my car keys out?”
“Fine. I’m a Clapton fan. ‘Wonderful Tonight’.”
Jason tilted his head, clearly impressed by her answer. “That’s a good song. Why that one?”
She should have known he’d dig deeper. It didn’t matter. She knew her answer. “I guess because it’s not about new love or lust or desire. It’s about a lasting love. That feels more true to me.”
“Wow. Great answer.”
She didn’t have time to reply when he pulled her closer, the embrace becoming more hug than dance. Neither of them sought to break the connection. Instead, they held tight, swaying in place.
When the song ended, Jason let her go, leading her back to the table. Kristen missed his touch instantly.
He must have felt it too. “You wanna go?”
Jason settled their tab, then the two of them drove back to her townhouse in silence. As they pulled into the parking lot, Jason turned the car off, but left the battery running, the radio playing softly.
“Well,” he said.
He was waiting for an invitation inside. She knew it. But the panic she’d held at bay all night found its way to the surface, clogging her throat with pure fear.
She tried to cover it up when a song came on the radio. “I love this song.”
Jason smiled kindly. He could obviously see the nervousness she wasn’t hiding very well. “It’s one of my favorites.”
They sat in silence as the words to “Let Your Heart Hold Fast” closed in around them. It comforted her, calmed her down.
Then she turned to face him. “Jason—”
He shook his head. “It’s okay, Kris. You don’t have to ask me in.”
She leaned forward, grateful for his understanding, while hating him for it as well. Some sick, weak part of her wanted him to demand, to push for this.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered, meaning to give him a quick, platonic kiss. Those intentions flew out the window the second her lips touched his. She’d had two weeks to remember every incredible, intense moment of his first kiss in her office. The memory had consumed her, drowned her in longing.
Now she was here again and unwilling to deny herself one more taste.
Jason clasped her cheeks in his hands and she realized it wasn’t music that melted her, it was the sexy way he held her, coddled her, made her feel precious, delicate, special.
She twisted, trying to move closer, but the damn stick shift kept digging into her side. Jason must’ve noticed because he turned as well, working to move them away from the damn thing. She laughed when he banged his elbow against it.
“Something tells me it would be simpler to make out with a porcupine,” she murmured.
He gave her a crooked grin. “Let’s try something else.” He pressed lightly on her shoulder until she was in her seat once more, her head against the rest. “Lift that lever on the side of the seat and recline.”
What the hell was she doing? She was almost forty years old and making out in a car like a horny teenager. That fact was made even more ridiculous by the idea that her parent-less house was less than a hundred feet away from them.
Regardless, she did as he asked, not quite ready to make the mother of all mistakes just yet. Even so, she was dying to see what he had in mind for now.
She slid her seat back, expecting Jason to follow suit. He didn’t.
Instead he twisted in his own, studying her face. “You’re beautiful, Kris.”
She was touched by the compliment and amused by the slight sound of amazement in his voice. “You sound surprised by that.”
“I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’ve missed that detail all these years.”
Kristen couldn’t respond because he punctuated his statement by resting his hand on her knee and his fingers slipped the skirt higher.
I just finished up edits on Never Been Kissed this weekend. The story will release on Sept. 9. In the book, Shelly decides it’s time to reinvent herself. Tired of being a wallflower, she seeks ways to overcome her shyness…and maybe even find a guy (or two) to kiss as well. Thought I’d share the cover, the unedited blurb and a sneak peek at the book. And don’t forget…The Back-Up Plan is out tomorrow!
There’s a big difference between starting over and simply starting.
Shelly MacIssac had pretty much given up all hope. Hope that she’ll lose weight, that she’ll find any excitement in life, that there will ever be any man in her bed besides Barney, her cat. So when Zoey suggests the wine girls come up with resolutions for the New Year, Shelly latches onto the one everyone expects her to choose—the tried and true commitment to go on a diet and get into shape. However, deep inside Shelly knows she needs to change a lot more than just her physical appearance.
Christian has been licking the wounds of a broken heart for a year, but no more. He’s covertly watched and lusted after Shelly at work and he’s not wasting any more time. There’s something about her that makes him believe she’s the one. Unfortunately, Shelly’s kickboxing instructor—and Christian’s best friend—Lance has set his sights on the sweet blonde as well.
Will it be pistols at dawn or will the two friends discover a more erotic answer to their shared attraction to Shelly? And will the shy beauty accept their racy proposal?
Warning: There is a chance this story will encourage you to go on a diet and begin an intense exercise regime. After all, flavored body lube is low cal, right? And sex is a great way to burn calories.
Lance’s grip tightened on her waist and he leaned closer. For a split second, she thought he was going to kiss her and she panicked until he spoke into her ear loudly. “I think your friend is trying to get your attention.”
Shelly tried to suck enough air into her lungs to get her brain functioning again. She’d been in the bar less than thirty minutes and yet it was shaping up to be the most exciting, terrifying, surreal night of her life. Lance pointed toward the edge of the dance floor and she followed the direction until she spotted Josie waving at her.
Josie pointed at Jake who was standing next to her and mouthed, “Full moon.” Shelly grinned. Damn. She’d picked the wrong friend to emulate. Josie was off to have sex in public with the gorgeous man standing next to her. What a night. Shelly never wanted it to end.
She lifted her finger. “One hour?”
Lance watched the exchange, but mercifully he didn’t ask questions. Instead, he tugged her closer. “Looks like I’ve got you to myself for another hour.”
Shelly laughed. Not because he’d said anything funny. But because she was so incredibly happy. She’d have to buy Georgie the world’s biggest box of chocolate to thank her for her advice.
A new song began and Shelly did something she’d never done before. She let go of all her inhibitions and simply lost herself to the music, the moment. She and Lance picked up the rhythm of the sultry tune, each of them trying to outdo each other with their sexy dance moves.
Unfortunately, reality came crashing down in the form of a blonde barracuda. Miss Size Two jeans/DD boobs knocked into Shelly, pushing her away from Lance. At first, Shelly assumed it was an accident. After all, the dance floor was packed.
The woman said, “Excuse me,” but Shelly noticed she didn’t relinquish the space she’d just cleared. Size Two moved closer to Lance, her dancing an overt sexual invitation.
Lance glanced at Shelly over the woman’s shoulder, his gaze darkening as the blonde thrust her breasts against his chest. Shelly couldn’t tell if it was lust or anger on his face. She didn’t have much experience with either. She’d never managed to provoke those sort of hot emotions in anyone.
Shelly continued to move to the beat, as her mind whirled over what to do. The woman truly was beautiful. And built. And definitely interested in Lance.
He’d have to be blind not to pick up on the signals the blonde was giving him. Maybe it was time for Shelly to step aside. She didn’t want to cramp his style. It had been nice of him to dance with her while Josie was occupied, but it wouldn’t be right for her to monopolize his entire evening.
She took one step toward the table, then froze as a spark of anger flared. If anyone had asked her yesterday, she would have sworn she didn’t have a temper. Shelly could count on one hand the times she’d blown a fuse and all of those had been years earlier, in high school, before life had beaten her down and taught her it just doesn’t get any better.
Tonight had proven to her that was wrong. In the past, she’d taken her lumps in silence because she’d given up.
But dammit, she was tired of lying down and playing possum, while others took and took and took.
So she stole a page out of Size Two’s book. Stepping next to the dancing couple, she accidentally swung her hip too far, propelling the petite woman at least five feet across the floor. Shelly suspected she would have gone even farther if another pack of dancers hadn’t broken her flight.
Shelly raised her hand to her mouth as if mortified by what had happened and said a less than sincere sorry that had Lance laughing loudly.
“Looks like my kickboxing lessons are paying off. That was completely bad ass.”
She grinned. “Maybe if she ate a cracker or two occasionally she wouldn’t be so easy to throw.”
Lance took Shelly’s hands and spun her as the music slowed down. Without a second’s pause, he pulled her closer and started swaying.