Tag Archive for Excerpt

ANTI-STEPBROTHER by Tijan~ Excerpt Reveal

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The sun shone into the room, and it took me a few moments to realize where I was. I didn’t recognize the king-size bed, or the black sheets, but then Caden walked past the open door and all the memories flooded into place.
I slept at his place.
I glanced around the bed… I slept in his bed!
“Your alarm’s about to go off in ten minutes,” Caden called from the doorway. He had a cup of coffee in hand and wore only jeans.
I tried to keep my eyes front and center, but I lost. The tattoos were a nice little zig-zag pattern, pulling my gaze down, all the way down. Caden’s slow, smooth chuckle told me he knew what I’d just done. My cheeks only warmed a little.
I shot him a look, falling back to the pillow. “I feel like this should be the first skip day of my school career.”
“You’ve never skipped before?”
I shook my head, rolling it side to side on the pillow. “Am I missing out? Should I embrace my inner deviant?”
He smirked. “You can skip a class for any reason in the world. It’s your life.”
I sat up, eyeing that coffee. “You were supposed to be the bad influence.”
His eyebrow lifted. “I’m not selling it enough?” He lifted his cup. “You want some coffee?”
“I’m wondering if today is the day I try coffee too.”
“You’ve never had coffee?”
“I’m beginning to think I’m lame.” I thought about it. “Really lame.”
“You slept at some guy’s house last night. Think of it that way.” His smirk was back. “Not so lame now.”
I could do one better. “I slept at a fraternity house.”
“And you drank beer.”
“It was the second night in a row that I drank beer.”
“See? Not so lame after all.”
“You’re right.” I sat up. “I’m halfway to total badass.”
He grinned. “We cuddled last night, and you could think of it as dry humping. You almost got some last night.”
Except I hadn’t, and we were in the friend zone. Why were my hands curling around the covers into tight balls? I glanced down and forced them to loosen, then shrugged, trying to be the nonchalant badass I was.
“You carried me to bed. Almost the same thing.”
Suddenly, the joking was gone, and his eyes burned. I could feel his heat from across the room, and my body reacted, instantly warming even before he said a word.
“Nothing’s the same as sliding inside,” he murmured after a moment. “The feel of being in there, feeling that clench around you, knowing you can push as deep as you want, as hard or gently as you want. Nope. I’ve gotta step off the joke train for a moment here. Nothing is remotely the same as that feeling.”
Fuck. My pulse spiked.
He tossed me a look. “Maybe I’ll cop a feel the next time.”
I pretended to groan. “One more notch on my badass peg. You better cop a feel next time.”
“Is that all I am to you? A notch on the bedpost? I feel so used, Stoltz.”
Okay. My last name. We were back on familiar ground here. But my grin was still a little shaky.
“Get used to it, Banks. I’m only disguised as this plain Jane. Inside there’s a wild woman just waiting to be let loose.”
He didn’t reply.
He stared at me for a few more seconds, then straightened from the doorway. “There’s nothing plain about you, Summer.”

I came to college with daydreams about being with my stepbrother, but what would happen if I fell in love with the anti-stepbrother instead?

Anti-Stepbrother is releasing August 22, 2016!

Pre-order on the following retailers:
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Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2aVR6NU
(September 12th delivery)


He told me to ‘settle, girl.’
He asked if ‘something was wrong with me?’
He said I was an ‘easy target.’
That was within minutes when I first met Caden Banks.
I labeled him an *sshole, but he was more than that. Arrogant. Smug. Alpha.

He was also to-die-for gorgeous, and my stepbrother’s fraternity brother.

Okay, yes I was a little naive, a tad bit socially awkward, and the smallest amount of stalker-ish, but if Caden Banks thought he could tell me what to do, he had another thing coming.

I came to college with daydreams about being with my stepbrother, but what would happen if I fell for the anti-stepbrother instead?

Author Information

I didn’t begin writing until after undergraduate college. There’d been storylines and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach myself how to write. I can’t blame my teachers for not teaching me all those years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I’m hoping I got it right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying my future stories.
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DIRTY TALK by SL Scott ~ Excerpt

dirty talk cover use

Click here to add Dirty Talk to your TBR


~Luke Anders~

“What if I touched you right where you want to be touched?” I slide my hand up her thigh, inching her skirt up slowly. Her breath catches, the quiet gasp making me smile. “What if I touched you right where you pretend to be so protective? I know you. I know you like it dirty . . . maybe even a little rough.”

She finds her voice, though it’s affected, sexy. “A lot.”

“What is that?”

Clearing her throat, she says, “I like it rough. Really rough.”

The right side of my mouth curves up, my hand stalling just below the apex of her thighs when my phone buzzes. I release a sigh. Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I sit up and read the text: Let’s get the fuck out of here. I look back at the black-haired raven I’ve left squirming on the metal barstool next to me. Pity. I’d like to explore exactly how she likes it, but duty calls. Standing up suddenly, I grab my wallet and slap some bills down for the drinks.

“What are you doing?” she demands, desperation lacing her tone as her eyes go wide.

I tuck my wallet back into the inside pocket of my Vittori suit jacket and kiss her on the cheek. Since I’m there, I add with a wink, “I bet we’d be so fucking good together.” Straightening upright, I smirk. “My apologies. I hate to run, but unfortunately, I have a prior engagement I can’t get out of. Maybe we can pick this up another time. I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

She huffs. “You’re a playboy bastard, Luke Anders,” rolls off her tongue in frustrated anger as she spins back to the bar.

I know. Not turning back, I nod. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a playboy or a bastard. Name-calling doesn’t bother me. Not getting laid tonight does.

Pushing open the exit door that leads to the alley, my asshole friends are waiting near the car they’ve pulled around.

The rusting red door slams shut, the click of the lock heard loudly behind me. The alley is quiet compared to the loud music that blares inside the club. “Fuckers.” With my arms out wide, I yell, “What the fuck? Where’s the fire? I was closing the deal.”

“We were saving you, man. Trust me on that.” My best friend is standing in front of the car with his arms crossed over his chest. Danny Weston is one of the best people I know, but right now, he’s pissing me the fuck off.

“Saving me from what?”

“Ask Blaise. He has firsthand knowledge.”

When I shoot an annoyed look in Blaise’s direction, he clams up. With hands up in surrender, he backs away toward the driver’s door. “I can’t help that the ladies love me.” Thus confirming he’s already hit that pretty kitty.

I walk to the passenger’s side of the car, punching Danny on the arm when I pass him. “Shit, man, just give me a heads-up next time. I wasted some of my best lines on her.”

Danny claims the front seat, so I duck into the back seat of a restored 1969 black Gran Torino. Cocky behind the wheel, Blaise takes off before we even have our seatbelts on, and says, “Stop hitting on everyone that takes pity on you then.”

“Fuck you. I can get any woman I want. No one’s taking pity on me.”

Danny breaks into the argument, “You guys really need to find a new hobby.”

“One-night stands are plenty entertaining,” Blaise retorts, smiling.

Danny puts his arm on the back of the seat and turns toward me. “I’m not going to lecture you—”

“Again,” I add.

“Again,” he repeats while rolling his eyes. “But we’ve talked about this a fuck ton of times. She’s not Jane and until you figure out what the hell is going on there, or if anything is going on there, these women are all the same—just another disappointment you’re going to have in the morning because they’re not her.”

Blaise verbally steps in, “Damn, dude, why so deep? You’re bringing me down.”

Danny laughs. I don’t. We’ve been friends for many years now, so Danny knows my game. He knows me well enough to know what I’m doing. Until I sort out this mess with the first woman I ever loved, the rest are just regrets waiting to happen, along with the regrets I can’t take back.
But I know him well too. We relate in a way that Blaise doesn’t understand, on a level that one day he’d be lucky to experience. No matter what I’ve been through with Jane, I’ve loved, hard. I know what it means to love and to be loved. I have no regrets when it comes to Jane, except one: letting her go.


You met Danny’s best friend, Luke Anders in Models on Top. Now it’s time to really get to know this dirty talking, sexy producer in his own standalone contemporary romance.

Dirty Talk will release on September 1st.

Sweet Talk aka Models On Top- Danny is NOW AVAILABLE

& FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2aIyNvh

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2b0IBll


Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde ~BLOG TOUR & REVIEW~

reaper's fire book tour

The smallest spark can start an inferno!

Gage and Tinker’s story is FINALLY here!

Reaper’s Fire NOW AVAILABLE!


New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…

The club comes first.

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker.


Amazon: http://amzn.to/2b80wcP

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Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Uu6bXu

Google Play:  http://bit.ly/1SxRDaQ



Reaper's Fire (Reapers MC, #6)Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde, was everything I had hoped it would be. There is a reason some authors are your go-to authors and this book was just one of many reasons why I love Joanna Wylde’s writing.

LOVE the title, Reaper’s Fire, so much meaning behind the name! Thank gawd my family is away right now, because I was able to read this sexy, hot MC read in one sitting! The Reaper’s series is one of my favourite series, every book has been an amazing page-turner. Reaper’s Fire had a fabulous story line that felt a little more relaxed than some of the other books in the series. I really enjoyed this book because it wasn’t as heavy on the angst, just the perfect balance of angst/romance.

LOVED Gage and Tinker’s story. It was a little different, in that some of the other members of the series didn’t take on as big a role in this story. I love all the sexy Reaper’s bikers. Tinker is another brilliant, strong female main character. Gage is all sorts of sexy-as-hell alpha male biker, I felt he wasn’t as hardcore as some of the other male leads in the series which, made him even sexier to me. Last but not least… Talia. What would a biker story be without a crazy-ass chick in it 😉

For those of you who love to read MC books, Reaper’s Fire is a whole lot of sexy that shouldn’t be missed! Great story that will keep you wanting more, fab characters and lots of delicious sexy-time. Make sure to also read the author notes at the end.

*Can be read as a standalone but you are missing out on some fabulous reading if you don’t read the entire Reaper’s MC series.  Nic

**I was provided a complimentary copy by the publisher**

Signed copy of Reaper’s Fire

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~Reaper’s Fire Excerpt~

“I can’t believe how late it is,” Tinker said, yawning, and I realized the movie had ended. Now she stretched upward, the blanket falling to her waist as her boobs pushed forward.

God, how much should a man be expected to take?

I should’ve stayed away from her completely—that’d been the plan—but something had snapped when I’d seen her out in the courtyard. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d met a woman like Tinker. She was smart and sexy and funny, and she worked damned hard to take care of her family and business. Sure, I wanted to fuck her—you’d have to be gay not to—but I respected her, too.

“I should probably get going,” she said, offering me a smile so sweet I wanted to bite her lips. “I like to check on Dad before going to sleep, and I’ve got to be up early in the morning. I’ve got to package orders for the courier tomorrow—if they aren’t ready by two p.m., I’m screwed.”

I considered rolling over on top of her. Pushing her down into the couch cushions, shoving my leg between hers, and showing her what a real man feels like.

“Cooper?” she asked, looking confused. I blinked a couple times, forcing myself to focus on her face.

“I’m going to watch another one,” I told her, because I’m a goddamn masochist. “You sure you’re ready to head out?”

She frowned, and I could almost read her thoughts. Yes, she should leave. But she wanted me as much as I wanted her. And yeah, I realize that makes me sound like an egotistical ass, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. I saw the lust in her eyes, and the way she licked her lips and stared at my mouth. This wasn’t a one-way street, not even close.

“I guess I could stay a little longer,” she whispered. Christ, she was so sweet and soft. I wanted to bite her even more now. Suck that pouty lower lip into my mouth and shove a finger up her ass.

Break her.

You’re one sick fuck.

Why yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing.

I managed to control the urge, catching her hand instead, giving it a friendly squeeze like some kind of pathetic tool. Her fingers tightened on mine, then she pulled away and snuggled back down under the blanket, raising her feet to rest on the coffee table. I grabbed the remote and clicked through the menu.

Tomorrow I’d do my job. I’d fuck Talia and spy on Marsh and look for any kind of weakness that might end this situation, the faster the better. Tonight, though . . . Tonight I’d pretend this wasn’t a waste of time.

Goddamn, but my dick hurt.

The next hour was torture.

Tinker sat next to me, all cute and classy and absolutely refusing to make any kind of eye contact. I don’t know how she felt, but to me the sexual tension hanging in the air was thick and heavy. I kept thinking about her hand in mine—small, but strong. The hand of someone who knew how to work hard. So far as I knew, Talia had never held down a job, let alone supported herself.

The couch shifted, and I glanced over to find Tinker sliding deeper into the cushions, drawing the blanket up to her chin. Our legs were maybe six inches apart. She shifted again, and then her hand bumped mine under the blanket. She jerked it back quickly, and I caught the hint of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing I liked about her—her skin was so pale that I could see every hint of arousal.

Grabbing her hand, I pulled it over to rest on my thigh. This was a really bad idea, so I pointedly refused to think it through. Her hand tensed at first, then relaxed into my strength. My cock swelled against the fabric of my jeans, just inches from her fingers—it’d be so easy to push her hand toward it, wrap it around my painfully swollen dick, and just go to town.

Tinker’s fingers gave a quick squeeze—almost more of a spasm—and I bit back a groan.

Yeah, okay. Really, really bad idea. I should get off the couch and shut this shit down right now, because I couldn’t afford to blow things with Talia just yet. Instead I found myself leaning toward Tinker, bumping shoulders.


I’d grown a pussy. No other explanation, because I couldn’t figure out why the hell else an adult man would sit holding hands under a damned blanket like a kid.


About the Author


Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter |  Goodreads


Welcome to Paradise by S.L. Scott ~Spotlight Tour~


I absolutely LOVE the Welcome to Paradise series by S.L. Scott.  If you’re looking for some summer fun and romance, this is the series for you!  Check it out 🙂



I thought I was strong… But I wasn’t when it came to Evan Ashford.

The rich, cocky playboy I met within minutes of landing in Hawaii didn’t give me arrogance. He gave me his heart and his hard truths. In return, I gave him everything, including my trust. The man made me weak in the knees, but I soon learned the bad boy surfer had a reputation that preceded him and an image to uphold.

The sexual chemistry was unquestionable, our emotions irrational, but our love was undeniable. Together our pasts didn’t matter. Our different backgrounds were irrelevant. He made me feel his life wasn’t worth living without me in it. He took my breath away and saved each one of them, owning me wholly.

Evan became my life, but with all the obstacles that stood in our way, could he become my future?



Life was perfect. Paradise was found in the arms of a redeemed bad boy. Evan Ashford’s cocky side didn’t stand a chance against true love. He pursued me with an unbridled determination, a passion that couldn’t be denied, winning me over. Our lives are now set… or should have been. But nothing stays perfect forever and happiness comes with a price.

We’ve paid that price.

Sometimes we may not get the answers we seek, but we’ve learned to cherish the gifts we’ve been given. It doesn’t matter what life throws at us or takes away, we’ve found love and we will fight for what matters most—family.

Good Intentions Excerpt

She stops, and with a telling grin says, “You know, despite what you may think, I’m actually not an easy lay.”

I can’t stop the laugh. Trust me, I try. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone how fast you jumped my bones.”

“Jumped your bones? I did not jump your bones. You have clearly forgotten how the events of our first date went down.”

“Well,” I say, rubbing my chin. “It wasn’t really a date from what I recall and you still ended up in my bed… under me one time…” I close my eyes remembering how fucking sexy she was that day. “… on top of me another. Oh, and I can’t forget how hot your ass looked from behind. I clearly remember three different times.”

“I thought it was two.”

“I didn’t include the pool action, so definitely three… at least, and I wore you out, Miss I’m-Not-An-Easy-La—Ouch!” I rub my arm where she knuckles me, then laugh. “You’re feisty, Miss Wray.”

“It’s one of the reasons you fell in love with me.”

“It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. Your easy ways were another.”

She jerks me to a stop in the middle of the lobby. “Oh my God, Evan, you make me sound like a whore.”

Wrapping my arms around her neck, I pull her close, and whisper, “Do you regret being with me that first day?”

“No, none of it.”

“You’re not a whore.” I kiss her on the nose. “You’re not easy. We both knew there was something more between us, something different. We did what we wanted and what felt right.”

Evan and Mallory 2


5 Things with Evan and Mallory of Welcome to Paradise

Mallory: This is funny. *giggles* And kind of hard.

Evan: It’s easy. I can name way more than 5 things I love about you.

Mallory: *leans head on his shoulder* You say the sweetest things.

Evan: *coughs* Ummm…. You got nothing for me other than this will be kind of hard to name 5 things about the man you’re supposedly in love with? *pokes her in the ribs and makes her smile*

Mallory: I can name plenty, but most of those should be kept between us, if you know what I mean.

Evan: I like the way you think… and kiss and… Ow! *rubs arm* Fine. Let’s do this because I know a few other things I’d like to be doing instead.

Mallory: *Smirks* Okay, I’ll go first. I like the way you look when you sleep.

Evan: You watch me sleep?

Mallory: You watch me.

Evan: Touché. Okay, my turn. I like your ass a lot.

Mallory: Wow. You’re just kicking right in with the romantic gestures, aren’t you? *rolls eyes*

Evan: I could’ve said I don’t like your ass. *cocks eyebrow*

Mallory: True. I’ll take the ass-liking instead.

Evan: You are one dirty girl and I’ll show you how much I like your ass lat—

Mallory: My turn again. I like your forearms and the way you can see the muscles moving. You’re strong and it’s really sexy.

Evan: *waggles eyebrows* I like watching you move. You’re quiet, but confident and caring in your actions.

Mallory: Awww, that’s so sweet. So you watch me?

Evan: You watch me sleep, so all’s fair.

Mallory: Ummm… *taps chin* What can I share? What can I share? Oh, I love your back and your body. I should just say I love your body. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen and the most handsome.

Evan: Well, well, well. The sexiest and most handsome *smiles all cocky* I like where this is going.

Mallory: Your turn.

Evan: I love your curves—the ones from your neck to your shoulders and the other ones from your waist to your hips. I like that you have curves. And the ones from your tits… er, I mean breasts. You have a hot body.

Mallory: What if those curves changes or whatever?

Evan: *narrows eyes in thought* I’ll love the new ones too because I love you.

Mallory: *cups his face* Thank you. Well I love that you still open the door for me.

Evan: *surprised* Why would I not?

Mallory: *shrugs* I don’t know. I guess that most guys do that more in the beginning of the relationship. Once they have you… well, most of those kinds of gestures disappear.

Evan: *shaking head* Men suck. I’m embarrassed for my gender and I’ll always open the door for you. I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to do it, so I’m not gonna squander the chance. *rubs hands together* Now back to what I love about you. There’s this way you say my name. It’s in your accent, but it’s mixed with your emotions and makes me smile… feel loved or whatever. It shows you really care about me.

Mallory: *smiles* Evan. Evan. Evan.

Evan: Yeah, that’s it. I especially like when you’re shouting it out while coming.

Mallory: I thought this list was supposed to be rated PG?

Evan: Really? Then we blew that when we first opened our mouths. Oops.

Mallory: I like your lips and the way you kiss me. It’s all passion and romance.

Evan: You took my answer. *leans forward and kisses her* I love the feel of your lips on mine and how when you kiss me, it’s like an invitation. *kisses her again*

Mallory: *kissing*

Evan: *kissing*

Mallory: *kissing*

Evan: *kissing*

Mallory: *dreamy sigh*

Evan: You’re beautiful, you know that.*strokes her hair back*

Mallory: I feel the same about you. *sits on his lap, wrapping her arms around him*

Evan: I think it’s my turn. I love your eyes—the green with gold flecks, the way you look at me like I can do no wrong, the fire in them, and your kind side. I love the way all your emotions can be read in your eyes. They’re quite stunning.

Mallory: *soft smile* Thank you. I love when you call me baby. This may sound strange and I probably shouldn’t admit this since it’s against the women’s movement, but there’s a possessiveness to it that makes me hot for you. It’s just so sexy rolling off your tongue.

Evan: I don’t even know what count we’re at, but we’re done here. *stands up holding her in his arms* I have plans for you and there’s no time like the present.

Mallory: Horny boy.

Evan: I’ll show you horny.

Mallory: Oh, I just bet you will. *giggles*

Quote Pic 2


Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Good Intentions by S.L. Scott

AMAZING SEXY HOT SIZZLIN’ SUMMER READ!!  I was completely sold the first time I saw the cover for Good Vibrations by S L Scott, is was so sexy and fun looking, I knew I had to read this book!  I knew absolutely nothing about the story (I rarely read a book’s synopsis) so I was ecstatic when Good Vibrations turned out to be everything I hoped it would be and more :-)  Right from the first few pages, Good Vibrations had my complete and uninterrupted attention!   No slow start to this story, no sir-eeeeee, it gets right into the good stuff and I wanted more!  Definitely the fun and sexy, with the perfect amount of angst, summer read I was hoping for :-)

Mallory needs an escape so she heads to Hawaii to stay with her best friend Sunny.  Hoping to clear her head over the summer, fate has other plans for Mallory’s summer when it puts a handsome stranger immediately in her path,  but that’s the last thing on her mind (or so she tries to convince herself).  Love Mallory, she made me remember what it was like to be young and falling in love, the good parts and the bad parts.   Evan is tired of his bad boy reputation.  He wants more out of his life but he’s just not sure how to obtain it.  Then he sees her!  Right from the beginning there was something about Evan’s character that kept me wanting more.  And no it wasn’t the fact that his is every woman’s holiday fantasy!  There was something about him that I couldn’t stop thinking about.   Noah is a hot local who is completely smitten with Mallory but I never felt right about him.  Something about him didn’t sit right for me.  Who will win her heart??  All of the characters are fabulous, the good and the bad characters.  

Good Vibrations is exactly the sexy summer adventure that I would have wanted when I was young and carefree.  This fabulous story 

is the perfect sizzling, sexy read you are looking for this summer!  And the ending…. OH EM GEEE!!!  Seriously I nearly messaged S L Scott at 3am to freak out!!!  I will say no more though as I don’t want to spoil it for anyone. 

 I really can’t stress how much I loved Good Vibrations!  Hot story, fab characters!  You won’t want to put down!!!  Make sure to have somewhere to cool off this summer while you read Good Vibrations, I can promise you’ll get hot!  Nic 5/5

Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Good Intentions by S.L. Scott

I absolutely loved Good Vibrations by S.L. Scott and couldn’t wait for the release of Good Intentions. S.L. Scott did not disappoint with the continuation of Mallory and Evan’s story. I found Good Intentions to be a quick read. There was plenty of story to keep my attention focused :-) Not as angst filled as Good Vibrations was, I found Good Intentions to be just as sexy and hot! S.L. Scott sure knows how to write some sexy hotness :-) As far as sequels go I loved Good Intentions, the characters I loved and hated were just as fab as they were in Good Vibrations. The storyline had a great flow that kept me wanting to turn the pages. I loved where S.L. Scott took the Mallory/Evan/Noah storyline, LOVED IT! I’m also excited that there will be a book 3 in this series, YAY!

If you loved Good Vibrations you won’t want to miss out on Good Intentions!  Nic 4/5

Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Good Sensations by S.L. Scott

I’m sad to have finished reading the final instalment in the Welcome to Paradise series by S.L. Scott, Good Sensations, because it means that I’ve finished this fab series. Good Sensations was the perfect way to end Evan and Mallory’s story. *inserts gush* Just like the rest of the books in this series, Good Sensations was everything I had hoped for and so much more. I jumped right back in as if I was hanging out with old friends again.

It’s been great watching the characters in this story grow and evolve and I promise some of the character transformations will blow your mind, who knew! Can’t wait for you to meet some of the new character. Clay Wray…Bahahahaha! Love it! Evan is still one of my favourite dreamy swoon worthy book boyfriends and I think I fell for him even more this time around. *inserts sigh*

I have loved this entire series but Good Sensations is my favourite. S.L. Scott kept me on my toes as there were a few situations I wasn’t sure whether she was going to mess with my head or not. Without giving spoilers away, I will say that Good Sensations had my heart feeling very full while reading it. Not heavy and angst filled, it was light and easy read full of sexiness, romance and fun. Just the read I was looking for to pull me from my funk. Thank you S.L. Scott for this amazing end to an amazing series.  Nic 5/5

slscottAbout the Author

S.L. Scott has a degree in Journalism and is the author of the novels—Naturally, Charlie, and A Prior Engagement as well as several novellas, including Sleeping with Mr. Sexy and Morning Glory–all currently available on Amazon. Pursuing her passion for telling stories, she spends her days escaping into her characters, letting them lead her on their adventures. She is a Contributor to Huffington Post and writes for her own blog along with several other popular sites.

Travelling, music festivals, and surfing are a few of the hobbies she loves, but she doesn’t get to enjoy on a regular basis. She has an obsession with movies, a varied taste in books, and collects Fitz & Floyd teapots. With a memory full of useless trivia facts, and a Keurig addiction, she loves a fun night in with her family as much as a loud night out with her friends.

Scott lives in the lively city of Austin with her husband, two young sons, and two Papillons, enjoying life in the beautiful hill country of Texas.

She welcomes your notes at sl@slscottauthor.com.

Author Social Media Links:


Twitter: @slscottauthor

FB: https://www.facebook.com/slscottauthor

FB Authors Page: https://www.facebook.com/slscottpage

Amazon Authors Page: http://www.amazon.com/S.L.-Scott/e/B009L9SPDK/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Huffington Post Contributor Page: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sl-scott/

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/slscott1

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Slscottauthor



Trifecta by Kim Carmichael ~BLOG TOUR & EXCERPT~



TrifectaCover3 copy

 Traditional Romance That Just Happens to Have Three People

Two men. One woman. It could ruin a friendship, or bring a satisfying twist to their lives. Artist, Jason Morgan, is used to making magic on the canvas. Now he hopes to do it in the bedroom. 

After a failed gallery showing, Jason decides the best way to cure his creative block is to act on his own personal fantasy, and enter into a sexual relationship with his two best friends. 

From the time they were in elementary school, Russell Sinclair has been a willing participant in Jason’s adventures, but this one goes to a new level. He’s intrigued by the idea of sharing one woman, but is challenged by how to fit this three-sided relationship into his traditional life. 

Lauren Redmond is no stranger to fantasy. As the aesthetic sales rep to the top Beverly Hills dermatologists, she is responsible for the majority of puffed lips and filled wrinkles in the greater Los Angeles area. She detours from her steady, secure path when she is offered the opportunity to live the dream with the two men who have occupied her heart since college. The fantasy fast becomes a powerful reality, and Lauren must decide if she is willing to give up everything she has worked for to have a bit of temporary decadence. 

Trifecta explores the boundaries of love, relationships and convention.


He backed away, glancing around the bedroom, taking in the unmade bed, the pile of towels in the corner, and a knit cap on Mr. Robot. The moment his back hit the doorjamb he spun around and ran toward the kitchen. “Lauren!”

“Laurie!” Jason came charging in from the other entrance. 

“Where is she?” Russell raised his arms. The last time he saw her she said she was going into the kitchen with her laptop under her arm. They couldn’t have misplaced her as well.

Jason shrugged his shoulders. “I need to talk to her.”

“I get her first.” Her laptop was on the table, but she wasn’t there.

“That was last night.” Jason crossed his arms.

“Lauren!” Russell yelled again. They had to resolve some things right now, or more importantly, he needed to know something, anything. Everything was off kilter.

“Hold on!” Her voice came out strained from the laundry room.

They both looked at each other and ran forward, bumping into one another in their quest to see who could reach her faster. They collided at the doorway, and Jason slipped inside the small room.

“What’s wrong?”

At Jason’s question Russell squeezed in. Lauren was on her knees, and the contents of her purse were strewn across the floor. “What’s wrong?”

She huffed and looked up at them, spreading her arms out over the mess. “I can’t find my nude pump, my black pants, my flash drive and my pills.”

“I don’t think your shoe is in there.” Jason got down with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I’m missing my favorite pen, my red t-shirt and my grey button down. I’m not sure where my underwear is, and I can’t find my knit cap.” Jason picked up her makeup bag and unzipped it. “Did the laundry guy skip us or something?”

“Did he? Maybe he stole our clothes.” Lauren’s eyes widened. “I swear I have nothing to wear.”

Russell noticed a trend and joined them. “I think your pump is in my closet, I now own everyone’s underwear, and the knit cap is on Mr. Robot.” He took Lauren’s bag from

Jason and dug through it.

“There’s your shirt.” Lauren lifted her chin toward him. “I guess Russell needed it.”

Jason turned to him. “Cool.”

“Here’s your pen.” Russell pulled a lip liner and Jason’s pen out of Lauren’s bag.

“And here’s the flash drive.” He handed each of them their respective possessions.

Lauren took her flash drive and kissed it. “I am also missing my black slip.”

Jason took his pen and held it up like a torch. “I am the current owner of the black slip. I put it on the bed, I thought we could use it again in a bit.” Then he held the pen out like a sword. “What did you need Laurie for?”

“Since I have most everyone else’s things, does anyone know where my things are?”

He pushed Jason’s hand away. 

Lauren raised her hand. “I have a pair of your striped boxers, one of your white shirts and four ties.”

“Ties.” Jason nodded. “That was awesome.” He leaned forward and began herding Lauren’s items into a pile. “Let’s go play tie again. I have a belt I can contribute, at least I know where that is.” He held up his shirt to show them.

Russell turned up to the ceiling. While those ties weren’t four of his best, the game was indeed awesome. He supposed he could wear the same suit he did today, and if

Jason found his grey button down he could borrow it. Now come to think of it, the mess, the lack of knowledge, the total loss of control came in a distant second, third and fourth to playing tie. “We’ll find the rest tomorrow.”

Jason began scooping Lauren’s paraphernalia into her bag. “Sweet. If we need to take a bath after I hid a towel away, we’ll have to share.”



Kim Carmichael began writing eight years ago when her love of happy endings inspired her to create her own. 

A Southern California native, Kim’s contemporary romance combines Hollywood magic with pop culture to create quirky characters set against some of most unique and colorful settings in the world.

With a weakness for designer purses, bad boys and techno geeks, Kim married her own computer whiz after he proved he could keep her all her gadgets running and finally admitted handbags were an investment.

Kim is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as some small specialty chapters.  A multi-published author, Kim’s books can be found on Amazon as well as Barnes & Nobel.  From alcohol to makeup to infrared cameras and even scientific lasers studying the atmosphere, Kim has worked in some aspect of sales and marketing for over twenty years.

When not writing, she can usually be found slathered in sunscreen trolling Los Angeles and helping top doctors build their practices.


Hands On Me – Keith Publications – 9/12 – Part of the Tramp Stamp Line

Closure – Hot Ink Press – 11/12 – Explores a second chance at a first love.

Eternity – Keith Publications – 1/13 – My fallen cupid story.

The Promise – Hot Ink Press – 2/13 – My sexy demon story.

Interchangeable – Decadent Publications – 7/13 – Part of Decadent’s 1Night Stand Line.  Explores a M/F/M love story.

Permanent – Book One of the Indelibly Marked Series – 10/13.   Permanent was chosen as a finalist in the Assent Publishing Great Romance Contest.

Trifecta – Hot Ink Press – 12/13 – M/F/M – A traditional romance that just happens to have three people.





~BLOG TOUR~ Review, Excerpt & Giveaway – Good Sensations by S.L. Scott




GS Amazon GR SW Cover FINAL 1

Good Sensations

Evan Ashford is sex personified. He makes me feel things I never have and crave things I’m not sure I should. Time doesn’t exist when we’re together—all of our worries becoming obsolete. Our tongues touch, and as if by memory, they move in harmony, feeling at peace, feeling at home.

Despite his mother’s best efforts to drive us apart and the miles that separate us, I’m ready—ready to claim what’s mine.

In an instant, his lips are pressed firmly against mine, consuming my words as if hearing them isn’t enough. Desire turns to need as he tastes and savors every syllable ever spoken from my heart to his.

Mallory Wray caught my attention and stole my heart. The emerald of her eyes draws me in, and it’s so easy to see why I fell in love with her. I run my hand over her cheek and into her hair, admiring everything I’ve missed so much. That familiar intensity that formed our bond back in Hawaii exists again. It’s comforting, engulfing, making my chest ache in the most painfully acute way. My heart feels grounded in her. This is right, this is us, I can finally breathe again.

Her hand settles on my cheek and a soft smile appears. “My sweet surfer. What a change a month makes.”

“It’s not the month that changed me. It’s the girl.” I turn and kiss her palm. “You make me want more than I feel I deserve.”

“You deserve everything your heart desires.”

“My heart only desires you.”

“Then I’m yours. All yours. Always.”

Life has taken these two young lovers in different directions. Can their love bring them back together? Will they be able to find their paradise once again?

Goodreads Link https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19108323-good-sensations?from_search=true


My dad straightens his back and clears his throat. “I may not have seen the bill, but I can guess how much it was and I’m just wondering why he has access to that kind of money. He’s not a drug dealer, is he?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know me better than that. You know I wouldn’t date a drug dealer.” I take my napkin, unfolding it slowly as if this is the most interesting thing in the world and doing my best not to get caught up in an Evan’s financial means conversation, so I try to put it to rest. “I’ve told you, his family has a lot of money.”
“The boy is in his twenties and still living off his parents—”
“Clay,” my mom says, touching his arm. “I’ve told you he’s working with his family this semester and transferring in Boulder next semester, so stop giving Mallory a hard time. She’s with a nice guy who, from watching him last night, clearly is in love with her.”
My dad furrows his brow. “I thought he seemed a bit obsessive hanging on her every word—”
Focused intensity. He’s always like that with me. I smile… like a stupidly, giddy smile.
“Look, she’s in love too. Let’s just be happy for her,” my mom says, smiling at my dad. She leans closer and kisses him on the cheek.
But when my dad is concerned about something, he fixates. “I hope you’re using protection. Don’t go messing up your life now.”
“Oh my God, Dad. I’m, uh, so… just never going to talk about that with you,” I stammer, throwing my hands up into the air.
“She’s twenty-two, Clay, and as much as we’re worried about her welfare, it’s really none of our business.”
“You had her two years younger than she is now, Elise. I’m sure you don’t want her giving up her dreams—”
“Dad! I’m being careful. Can we just please end this embarrassing conversation says the-mistake-my-parents-made-at-twenty?”
“You were the best mistake we ever made, honey.” My mom, the eternal optimist.
“What you’re really saying is that I can be friends with certain guys because they don’t want to sleep with me, but not all guys because they do want to sleep with me. This is kind of ridiculous, you know.”
“I never said they wanted to sleep.” He pulls me closer and holds me. “Come here.” He kisses me again—hard this time with no reluctance and all the passion we had in Hawaii is back, making me whole.

Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Good Sensations by S.L. Scott

Good Sensations (Welcome to Paradise, #3)Good Sensations by S.L. Scott

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I’m sad to have finished reading the final instalment in the Welcome to Paradise series by S.L. Scott, Good Sensations, because it means that I’ve finished this fab series. Good Sensations was the perfect way to end Evan and Mallory’s story. *inserts gush* Just like the rest of the books in this series, Good Sensations was everything I had hoped for and so much more. I jumped right back in as if I was hanging out with old friends again.

It’s been great watching the characters in this story grow and evolve and I promise some of the character transformations will blow your mind, who knew! Can’t wait for you to meet some of the new character. Clay Wray…Bahahahaha! Love it! Evan is still one of my favourite dreamy swoon worthy book boyfriends and I think I fell for him even more this time around. *inserts sigh*

I have loved this entire series but Good Sensations is my favourite. S.L. Scott kept me on my toes as there were a few situations I wasn’t sure whether she was going to mess with my head or not. Without giving spoilers away, I will say that Good Sensations had my heart feeling very full while reading it. Not heavy and angst filled, it was light and easy read full of sexiness, romance and fun. Just the read I was looking for to pull me from my funk. Thank you S.L. Scott for this amazing end to an amazing series.  Nic
Good Vibrations Front Ebook Cover 1Good Vibrations (Book 1)

I grab her exploring finger just as it reaches my happy trail—a trail that if I let her wander down further will lead us to do things we can’t take back. Things like three-word phrases being confessed that would end me if I was rejected. Things like selfishly wanting to own her body and doing things to her that would make my fantasies blush. And things like making her promises too soon that won’t do either of us any good. She makes me want a future that’s not possible, and one I don’t deserve.

Listening to my ego got me into this situation. Will listening to my heart get me out.

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/good-vibrations-sl-scott/1115540708?ean=2940016446868


Good Intentions CoverGood Intentions (Book 2)

Two words sum up my summer in paradise—Evan Ashford. 

I have a life back home I must return to, though my heart battles this reality. What started as a carefree summer fling has become so much more. Evan has become so much more. He’s become everything. Cupping his face, I stare into his deep blue eyes, wanting to lose myself once more… needing to know he feels this too.

Although our connection won’t stop the summer’s end from rushing toward us or silence the demons Evan battles, I have faith our love can overcome the obstacles that will undoubtedly arise from us choosing to be together. I still worry… Will our good intentions be good enough? But I’m all in, willing to take the risk, knowing he can destroy my heart if I’m wrong.

Like a riptide, I was forever changed by one woman—Mallory Wray.

Our eyes meet and we spend a moment looking into the others’, reading the fear and the love that mingles within. I move slowly down and kiss her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, and her chin before I kiss her lips again—soft and gentle, not rushed, but sensual. She smiles and I die inside knowing that I won’t get to see her face every day. I’ve been spoiled by this sweet angel giving me all her days and nights. I possessively take hold of her wrists and like so many times before, the air stills as our connection intensifies. I can’t help myself when it comes to her.

I kiss her.

Rain pours down harder and I wrap my arms around her, engulfing her body, her love, her soul.

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/good-intentions-s-l-scott/1116399154?ean=2940148689539


slscottAbout S.L. Scott

S.L. Scott has a degree in Journalism and is the author of the novel, Naturally, Charlie, and several novellas, including Sleeping with Mr. Sexy and Morning Glory–all currently available on Amazon. Pursuing her passion for telling stories, she spends her days escaping into her characters, letting them lead her on their adventures. She is a Contributor to Huffington Post as well as writes for her own blog along with several other popular sites.
Travelling, music festivals, and surfing are a few of her hobbies she loves, but she doesn’t get to enjoy on a regular basis. She has an obsession with movies, a varied taste in books, and collects Fitz & Floyd teapots. With a memory full of useless trivia facts, and a Keurig addiction, she loves a fun night in with her family as much as a loud night out with her friends.
Scott lives in the lively city of Austin with her husband, two young sons, and two Papillons, enjoying life in the beautiful hill country of Texas.

Visit her website at www.slscottauthor.com

Author social media links:

Blog: www.slscottauthor.com

Twitter@slscottauthor; https://twitter.com/slscottauthor

FB: https://www.facebook.com/slscottauthor

FB Authors Page: https://www.facebook.com/slscottpage

Amazon Authors Page: http://www.amazon.com/S.L.-Scott/e/B009L9SPDK/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Huffington Post Contributor Page: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sl-scott/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Slscottauthor

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/slscott1


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~BLOG TOUR, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY~ Every Kiss By Tasha Ivey

Every Kiss_BT Banner

We can’t wait to read Every Kiss by Tasha Ivey!  There just isn’t enough time in the day to read every book we want but this one is close to the top our lists.  Make sure to take a look and add Every Kiss to your TBR!  It’s sure to be an incredible read <3  Don’t forget to enter the Giveaway for a chance at some incredible prizes.



After witnessing Makenna’s journey to find herself again, Callie is reminded of her own struggles with love. No, Wes wasn’t always the easy going guy that he is today. He was moody and unpredictable in the worst of ways, and she was certain to call him out on it every chance she got. Looking back, she’s amazed at how much their lives have changed since they met.

Before tragedy shook them to the very core of their lives. Before her dream career began. And before Wes wasn’t a broody jerk with a closet full of personalities.

Yes, just four years ago, everything was different…

Makenna and Shane are just a couple of lovesick college students, and Callie is doing her best to keep up with the demands of her junior year. Life is boring, and she is totally fine with that. But boring flies right out the window the day Makenna cons Callie into helping with Shane’s brother’s birthday party. She expects a gangly pimple-faced teenager, but Wes is far from it. He is temperamental and opinionated, but he is also incredibly hot and thoroughly enjoys pushing her buttons. And she pushes his right back.

Even though their undeniable attraction draws them to one another, Wes is clear with Callie about one thing. Relationships are off limits. Friendship is all he has to offer, unless of course, Callie is willing to add a few benefits to that. He works hard to keep the reasons for his aversion hidden, but secrets have a way of making themselves known sometimes, no matter how deep you bury them.

Two of those secrets hold the key to unlocking Wes’ fears of the ultimate betrayal. And the other secret has Callie falling even deeper than she ever dreamed.

But she’s unsure of one thing . . . is she enough to save him from himself?


Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18329739-every-kiss?ac=1

Social Media Links:

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authortashaivey

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6949113.Tasha_Ivey

Every Kiss_Ebook


Finally deciding I’m too tired to go across again, I quickly change over to the hot tub. The water is much hotter than the pool, so it stings slightly as I sink slowly onto the seat.

“Ahhh.” It feels that good.

“You’re a kidnapper’s dream come true. You know that?”

I slosh water everywhere as I turn toward the voice. “And you’re my worst nightmare. Why do you keep popping up and scaring the life out of me?” My eyes finally focus on the figure in the chair just across from the hot tub. Wes sits in total darkness but the glow from the water reflects onto the bottle in his hand.

“Sorry,” he offers a sincere apology, sitting forward so that the light illuminates his face. “I saw you walk past my room, so I followed you to see what you were up to.”

I sink to my neck in the water, not wanting him to see me in my revealing bikini. Again. “You mean you’ve been out here all this time?”

“Yep. Which brings me back to my point. You really should be more aware of your surroundings. You don’t ever know who’s watching you. You can’t be too careful, you know.”

I scowl at him. “Babysitting me again, huh?”

“No. Just a friendly observation.” He stands and places his nearly empty bottle on the table next to him, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head and opening the front of his jeans. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”

“It’s your house.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

“My parents’ house,” he corrects. He shoves his jeans down his legs and steps out of the pile of denim, leaving only his boxer briefs behind.

Oops, I looked. I freaking looked. And now I can’t stop looking. I didn’t think he could possibly be hotter than in those clothes he had on today. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to see what’s underneath. I had it right earlier today when I compared him to a Greek statue, but this time I’m seeing it all. Well, except I never saw boxer briefs on any of the statues, they usually didn’t have . . . oh damn, I just looked at his package. Close your eyes, Callie. Abort. Abort!

“See something you like, sweetheart?” He snickers, mocking me with the same statement he made to me this afternoon.

Buy Links:

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/every-kiss-tasha-ivey/1117651746?ean=2940149061532


Tasha Rae IveyAuthor Bio:

Tasha Ivey is a literature fanatic, whose love for the written word fostered her development into the writer she has become. A lover of an extremely erratic mixture of literature, she has been influenced by authors from Jane Austen and E.M. Forster to Charlaine Harris and Alyson Noel. But her biggest influence and literary hero? Nicholas Sparks. Aside from writing, since she doesn’t have anything other than a shriveled up prune on the left side of her brain, she prefers to spend her time being creative in other ways like painting, cake decorating, and various types of crafts. That is, if the constant voices streaming through her head allow her to stop making up stories for a while. Lucky for her, she has a huge supportive family, including her amazing husband and two kids, who doesn’t complain too much when she hangs out with her characters more than she does with them. Sophie, the dog, however . . . she does complain. A lot.





A chance to win one of  3 signed copies of Every Kiss and one of 3 $10 Amazon Gift Card

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~BLOG TOUR, EXCERPT, REVIEW & GIVEAWAY~ Trouble by Samantha Towle


We are so excited to be one of today’s stops on the Trouble, By Samantha Towle, Blog Tour!  An absolutely amazing read!  Be sure to take a look and add this one to your TBR!


Mia Monroe is running. Running from a person she doesn’t ever want to find her. Running from a past she doesn’t ever want anyone to know. Desperate to find a future, that yesterday, she could only dream of having.
Jordan Matthews likes easy. Easy women. Easy life.
Then he meets Mia.
She’s damaged, troubled and has more baggage than any person can carry. But the more Jordan gets to know Mia-for the first time in his life-he finds himself wanting to try hard for something… for someone… for her.
And then life isn’t so easy anymore.
Jordan is everything Mia shouldn’t want. A whole bunch of dirty hotness, tattooed, cocky bad boy, who made his money at poker tables and picked his women up in bars. Yet, Mia finds herself falling for him. Then the past Mia was running from, quickly starts to catch up with her. Because that’s the problem with running… you have to stop sometime.
And when you stop, you get caught.

Genre: New Adult Romance
Release Date: November 20, 2014

Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Trouble by Samantha Towle


My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Samantha Towle I don’t know what to say!!!! Nothing like I expected it to be! So emotional and raw…. An incredible read! I couldn’t put it down!

I had absolutely no idea of what I was in for when I started Trouble by Samantha Towle. Right from the very beginning Trouble had my complete undivided attention. There was something about Mia that had me intrigued until I got further into the story and then…WOW! I was gobsmacked! Honestly, I couldn’t believe the emotion the first few chapters of Trouble evoked….powerful! I couldn’t put Trouble down.

I really felt that Samantha Towle took a very sensitive subject and put a face to it. Trouble was so much more than just a romance. I couldn’t comprehend what this young woman had gone through and it kept me wanting to know more. I fell in love with Mia and Jordan along the way as I watched them both grow. So many times my heart was in my throat but I would like to thank Ms. Towle for not gutting me.

Trouble is the emotional journey of two fabulous characters who try to overcome adversity to find their place in life. I really felt Trouble demonstrated that none of us know what the future holds, no matter how bleak it may seem. If you are looking for and incredible read you won’t want to put down, Trouble by Samantha Towle should be your next read.   Nic

Trouble Teaser #3 Mia POV
Samantha Towle began her first novel in 2008 while on maternity leave. She completed the manuscript five months later and hasn’t stopped writing since. She is the author of The Mighty Storm, The Bringer and the Alexandra Jones series, all penned to tunes of The Killers, Kings of Leon, Adele, The Doors, Oasis, Fleetwood Mac, and more of her favourite musicians. A native of Hull and a graduate of Salford University, she lives with her husband, Craig, in East Yorkshire with their son and daughter.

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Books-by-Samantha-Towle/230032170346603
Twitter http://twitter.com/samtowlewrites
Author website http://www.samanthatowle.co.uk/
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4838933.Samantha_Towle?from_search=true
Goodreads book link https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17257484-trouble?from_search=true

Buy Links:


Barnes and Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/trouble-samantha-towle/1117483235?ean=2940045446235
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/379553
iTunes – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/trouble/id761181638?mt=11&uo=4&at=11lp3T

Want a chance to win one of 5 ebook copies of TROUBLE make sure to enter the Rafflecopter

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~BLOG TOUR, EXCERPT, REVIEW & GIVEAWAY~ Determinism by L.K. Collins


Welcome to today’s stop on the Determinism by LK Collins, Blog Tour.  I have been waiting for Abel and Cara’s story ever since reading Fatalism!  I can’t wait for you to take a look at this FAB read 🙂 


Determinism by LK Collins  Book two in the Life. Destiny. Fate Series

**Each book can be read as a stand-alone!!! 


At what point do you stop fighting the events that have long been predetermined by the course of fate?

Cara Savannah falls fast and falls hard. She always has. The problem is the kind of guys she falls for. They aren’t interested in anything more than a one night stand. Finally fed up with the years of heartache and lack of meaningful relationships, she vows to turn over a new leaf. Cara is going to let love take a backseat and focus on herself.  Most importantly- no more tattooed bad boys. The question is, how long can she manage to evade what fate has orchestrated for her?

Abel Mileski is every bit your typical bad boy on the exterior, but life’s left him broken and jaded. After years of meaningless sex with girls only seeing him for his good looks and tattoos, he sees no value within himself. Ready for a change, he shuts down his desires and immerses himself in his career. However, when fate intervenes, he is completely unprepared. Meeting Cara ignites his desires. She’s not fazed by his ink, and when he tries to charm her, he fails… Stunned by her instant dislike of him, he is determined to find out why.

After months of sexual tension, they make a decision that will forever change their lives. Will that decision be what ultimately wrecks them or brings them back together?

Determinism- https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17877463-determinism

Flirty and Dirty Book Blog’s Review of Determinism by LK Collins

Determinism: Cara and Abel's Story (Life. Destiny. Fate., #2)Determinism: Cara and Abel’s Story by L.K. Collins

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

~First I want to say you can read Determinism as a standalone but I feel you are completely missing out on some amazing background on the characters in this story by not reading Fatalism. This is just my opinion~

I have been waiting for Determinism’s release since I met Abel and Cara in Fatalism! Thank you LK Collins for making Determinism all I hoped it would be and more! It was well worth the wait 🙂 I love how LK Collins writes! Her books are so full of story, fabulous characters and, SMOKIN’ HOT SEXINESS! I promise you will need a cold shower after reading some of the sexy scenes in Determinism, definitely not a flirty read 😉 Determinism will have you turning the pages wanting more, I love when a book has great flow.

I adore Cara’s character, not complicated just a girl guarding her heart while looking for a nice guy to love. I have wanted more of Abel from the moment I read about him in Fatalism. I love that he’s a strong alpha male without being controlling. He’s just determined 😉 It was great getting to know more about both of these characters but Abel’s character was the one that surprised me the most, you’ll see! Marla was another amazing character, very complex. I was very excited to get a little more of Vincent and Alexa but it wasn’t enough, love them!!! Now I can’t wait for Bridgette and Troy’s story. Seriously, I love the characters in this series!

Determinism is just the book you are looking for to keep you warm at night, heck even your husband will be kept warm after you read this one *wink wink*… SMOKIN’ HOT 😉 Great flow, sexy, fun and adventurous characters. If you are looking for a great read without being left full of pent-up angst or a bad book hangover Determinism is just what you are looking for 🙂  Nic
Buy it Links for Fatalism (Book one)-


Barnes & Noble- http://tinyurl.com/krzwmwh



~Ed Sheeran, Kiss Me
~The Cab, Animal
~The Cab, Temporary Bliss
~The XX, Swept Away
~Fun, Some Nights
~Christina Perry, Penguin
~Katy Perry, Dark Horse
~A Great Big World, Say Something
~Imagine Dragons, Radioactive
~MS MR, This Isn’t Control
~OneRepublic, Counting Stars

Book Trailer Link




I open my eyes but my vision is blurry and my head hurts. I clamp my eyes shut and pull the covers over my head. I realize as I lie there that I have a hangover. Damn it, I hate hangovers. I try again to open my eyes, this time with my head tucked underneath the covers. Once I manage to pull my vision into focus I notice that my sheets are dark gray. What the hell? I pull the covers back and blink wildly looking around. I’m not in my room. Shit, where am I? I look next to me and no one else is in the bed. I go to get up and my clothes are thrown all over the floor.


Think, Cara, think. What happened? I remember being at the BBQ, and I started taking shots with Troy. I sit up and look around but there is no sign of Abel. Quietly, I get out of bed and leave the bedroom. As I reach the living room I’m stopped dead in my tracks. Sleeping peacefully on the couch is Abel. He is naked from the waist up and his body is almost covered in tattoos. I thought it was just his arms, but they’re everywhere. I step closer wanting to get a better look at his art when the floor creaks. His sleepy eyes open and he looks at me. I smile shyly at him, not able to remember what happened last night.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

I shake my head, and realize that I feel like I am going to pass out. He sits up and pats the couch next to him. I walk over and sit down. Looking at myself I suddenly realize I’m wearing one of his Denver Fire t-shirts and nothing else. Sitting down I go to grab a pillow to pull on my lap, but he covers me with the blanket he was using instead.

Abel gets up, and as he walks by, I can’t miss the hard on he has. I look up at him and he puts his hand over it.

“It’s just morning wood, kitten. Don’t worry. Nothing like that happened last night.”


Author Bio:
LK is, first and foremost, a wife and a mother. She has always had a mad passion for reading, and recently turned that passion into the love and talent of writing. She writes sexy and erotic adult romance. Fatalism is her debut novel, which is part of the Life. Destiny. Fate Series. The series will contain five books, all of which are their own stories and can be read in order or as stand-alones. 

~Social Media links~

Website: http://www.authorlkcollins.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-LK-Collins/487780241289249
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorLKCollins
Goodreads Author Page:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7023849.LK_Collins


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~PROMO EVENT, EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY~ Reaper’s Legacy (Book 2) by Joanna Wylde


Reaper’s Legacy (Reapers Motorcycle Club Book 2)
By Joanna Wylde
Available Jan. 28, 2014


Eight years ago, Sophie gave her heart—and her virginity—to Zach Barrett on a night that couldn’t have been less romantic or more embarrassing. Zach’s step-brother, a steely-muscled, tattooed biker named Ruger, caught them in the act, getting a peep show of Sophie he’s never forgotten.

She may have lost her dignity that fateful night, but Sophie also gained something precious—her son Noah. Unfortunately, Zach’s a deadbeat dad, leaving Ruger to be Noah’s only male role model. When he discovers Sophie and his nephew living in near poverty, Ruger takes matters into his own hands—with the help of the Reapers Motorcycle Club—to give them a better life.

Living with outlaw bikers wasn’t Sophie’s plan for her son, but Ruger isn’t giving her a choice. He’ll be there for Noah, whether she wants him or not. But Sophie does want him, has always wanted him. Now she’ll learn that taking a biker to bed can get a girl dirty in every way…




Joanna Wylde is a freelance writer and voracious reader.
You can visit her website http://www.joannawylde.net/




Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/reapers-legacy-joanna-wylde/1115811991?ean=9780425272343


By Joanna Wylde



“I’m gonna stick it in now.”
Zach’s voice was rough and full of urgent need.
I smelled him all around me, sweaty and hungry and so beautiful I could die. After tonight he’d be mine for real. His hand reached down between us, guiding the round, rubbery head of his penis as it nudged my opening. It felt weird. He pushed at me and I guess he missed, because it hit me too high and—
“Ouch! Shit, Zach, that hurts. I think you’re doing it wrong.”
He stopped immediately and grinned down at me, the gap between his front teeth teasing. Holy crap, I loved that grin. I’d had the biggest crush on Zach since we were freshmen, but he never noticed me, not until a couple of months ago. My folks didn’t let me out much, but I’d managed to get permission to stay with Lyssa for a night and we’d snuck out to a party in July. Zach had honed in and we’d been a couple ever since.
I’d gotten really good at sneaking out.
“Sorry, babe,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me. I softened immediately, loving the feel of his lips ghosting across mine. He adjusted himself and started sliding into me again, slow and steady. This time he didn’t miss, and I stiffened as he stretched me open wide.
Then he hit a barrier and paused.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He looked back down at me and I knew right then and there I’d never love anyone half so much as I loved Zachary Barrett.
“Ready?” he whispered. I nodded.
He shoved into me and I squealed, pain ripping between my legs. Zach kept me pinned with his hips as I gasped, shocked. Then he pulled out and I tried to catch my breath. Before I could, though, he’d thrust back into me. Hard. Ouch.
“Holy shit, you’re tight,” he muttered. He pushed himself up on his hands, throwing his head back as he pumped into my body, over and over, eyes closed and face straining with hunger.
I don’t know what I’d expected.
I mean, I wasn’t stupid. I knew it wouldn’t be perfect the first time, no matter what the romance books said. And it didn’t hurt that much. But it sure as shit didn’t feel good, either.
Zach moved faster, and I turned my head on the couch to look across the small apartment. His brother’s, apparently. We had it for the night—it was supposed to be our special, perfect time together. I’d expected flowers or soft music and wine or something. Stupid. Zach had pizza and some beer from his brother’s fridge.
“Ouch,” I muttered again as he paused, face twisting.
“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he gasped. I felt his penis throb deep inside, almost twitching. It was weird. Really weird. And nothing like I’d seen in movies—not even a little bit.
Was that it?
Huh . . .
“Oh, fuck that’s good.”
The apartment door opened as Zach collapsed between my legs, oblivious to the world. I couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as a man walked in.
I didn’t know him, but he couldn’t have been Zach’s brother. He didn’t look anything like Zach, who was taller than me, but not by a whole lot. This guy was really tall, and muscular in the way men who work with their hands get from heavy lifting on the job.
He wore a black leather vest with patches over a ratty T-shirt and jeans that had streaks of dark motor oil or grease or something. A half rack of beer dangled from one hand. His hair was short and dark. Almost military. His lip was pierced and he wore a two rings in his left ear and one in his right, like a pirate. Eyebrow was pierced, too. His features were bluntly handsome, but nobody would ever call him pretty. Big black boots covered his feet, and the chain from his wallet hung low across his hip. One of his arms had a full-sleeve tattoo. The other had a skull with crossed blades behind it.
He stopped in the doorway and looked us over, slowly shaking his head.
“I told you what I’d do if you broke into my place again,” he said quietly. Zach popped up and his face went white. His entire body—with one notable exception—stiffened. I felt that exception slither out of me, along with some fluid, and realized we hadn’t even bothered to put a towel down or anything.
But how was I supposed to know we’d need a towel?
“Shit,” Zach said, his voice a tight squeak. “Ruger, I can explain—”
“Don’t fuckin’ explain,” Ruger said, pushing forward into the room. He slammed the door shut behind him and walked over to the couch. I tried to hide my head in Zach’s chest, more ashamed and embarrassed than I’d ever been in my life.
Flowers. Were flowers too much to ask?
“Jesus Christ, what is she? Twelve?” Ruger asked, giving the couch a kick. It shuddered under me, and Zach sat up, pulling away from my body. I shrieked and pushed my hands down between us, trying to cover myself from his brother’s gaze.
Shit. SHIT.
Then it got worse.
The brother—Rooger? whatever the hell kind of name that was—looked right at me as he leaned across my body, grabbing a folded blanket from the back of the couch.
He tossed it over my crotch.
I moaned and died a little inside. My legs were still spread wide, my skirt up high around my waist. He’d seen everything. Everything. This was supposed to be the most romantic night of my life and now I just wanted to go home and cry.
“I’m takin’ a shower and by the time I’m done, you need to be gone,” Ruger said, getting in Zach’s face. My boyfriend flinched. “And stay the fuck outta my apartment.”
With that, he walked down the hall to the bathroom, banging the door shut. Seconds later I heard the shower come on. Zach jumped up, muttering.
“Asshole. He’s such a goddamn asshole.”
“Was that your brother?”
“Yeah. He’s a prick.”
I sat up and straightened my shirt. Thank God I hadn’t taken it off. Zach loved to touch my breasts, but we’d actually moved pretty fast once we got started. I managed to get to my feet, holding the blanket in front of me while I pulled down my skirt. I had no idea where my panties had gone, but a quick look around didn’t reveal them. I leaned over the couch, digging in the pillows, hunting. No luck, but I managed to stick my hand in the disgusting wet spot we’d left behind.
I felt like such a whore.
“Fuck!” Zach yelled behind me. My head jerked up—how could things possibly get any worse? “Holy fuck, I cannot fucking believe this!”
“What’s wrong?”
“The condom broke,” he said, eyes wide. “The fucking condom broke. This has got to be the worst night of my life. You better not be pregnant.”
The air froze in my lungs. Apparently things could get worse.
Zach held the broken rubber out toward me. I stared down at the nasty thing, not quite believing my bad luck.
“Did you do it wrong?” I whispered. He shrugged, not answering.
“It’s probably okay,” I said after another long pause. “I mean, my period just ended. You can’t get pregnant that soon after your period, right?”
“Um, yeah, probably,” he said, flushing and looking away. “I didn’t really pay attention to that shit in class. I mean, I always use a condom. Always. They never break, not even—”
My breath caught and I felt hot tears well up in my eyes.
“You told me you’d only done it once before,” I said softly. He winced.
“I’ve never done it with anyone I loved before,” he said, dropping the broken rubber and grabbing for my hand. I tried to tug away. The mess on his fingers grossed me out, but when he pulled me in tight and wrapped his arms around me, I caved.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he muttered, rubbing my back as I snuffled against his shirt. “It’ll be fine. We’re fine. And I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I was afraid you wouldn’t stick with me if you knew I’d been stupid before. I don’t care about any other girls and I never will. I just want to be with you.”
“Okay,” I said, pulling myself together. He shouldn’t have lied, but at least he owned up to it. Mature couples worked through hard stuff all the time, right? “Um, we should probably get out of here. Your brother looked pretty pissed. I thought he gave you a key?”
“My stepmom has an emergency key,” he said, shrugging. “I took it. He was supposed to be out of town. Grab the pizza.”
“Should we leave some for your brother?”
“Screw him. And he’s my stepbrother. We’re not even really related.”
I found my shoes and slipped them on, then got my purse and the pizza. I still didn’t know where my panties were, but just then I heard the shower stop.
We needed to get out.
Zach glanced over at the bathroom, then winked at me as he grabbed the half rack off the counter.
“C’mon,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the door.
“You’re stealing his beer?” I asked, feeling a little sick. “Seriously?”
“Fuck him,” Zach said, narrowing his eyes at me. “He’s a total dick, thinks he’s better than everyone else. Him and his stupid fucking motorcycle club. They’re all assholes and criminals, and he is, too. Probably stole it in the first place. And he can buy more any time he wants, not like us. We’ll take it to Kimber’s. Her parents are in Mexico.”
We jogged down the apartment complex stairs, then crossed the parking lot to his truck. It was kind of old, but at least the full-sized Ford’s king cab had plenty of room. We’d take it out sometimes, just the two of us, and spend hours lying in the bed under the stars, kissing and laughing. Other times we packed three or four couples in, all sitting on each other’s laps.
Zach hadn’t done such a great job tonight, but that wasn’t his fault. Sometimes life just didn’t follow the plan. I was still crazy about him, though.
“Hey,” I said, stopping him as he opened the driver’s side door.
I turned him around and popped up onto my toes, kissing him long and slow. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, babe,” Zach said, smoothing my hair back behind my ear. I melted when he did that—made me feel all safe and protected. “Now let’s go kill some of those beers. Shit, fuckin’ crazy night. My brother is such a dick.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed as I hauled ass around the truck.
So losing my virginity hadn’t been perfect and beautiful and all that. But at least it was over and Zach loved me.
Too bad about the panties, though.
I’d bought them special and everything.


“Fuck, it’s my mom. I gotta grab that,” Ruger yelled across the table at Mary Jo, holding up his cell. The band hadn’t started yet, but the place was still packed, and he couldn’t hear a damned thing. He didn’t get out much since he’d started prospecting the Reapers. Earning a place in the club was a full-time job by itself, and he pulled shifts at the pawnshop, too.
Ma knew that, and she wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.
“Hey, lemme get outside,” he said loudly into the phone, walking toward the door with long strides. People got the fuck out of his way, and he bit back a smile. He’d always been a big guy, but now that he wore an MC cut?
Fuckers practically dove under the tables when they saw the club patches on his vest.
“’Kay, I’m outside,” he said, moving away from the crowd in front of the Ironhorse.
“Jesse, Sophie needs you,” his mom said.
“What do you mean?” he asked, peering at his bike, parked down the street. Was that guy getting close to it? Oh, not gonna happen . . .
“So are you going?” she said. Shit. She’d been talking.
“Fuck, sorry, ma. Missed what you said.”
“I just got a panicked phone call from Sophie,” his mom repeated. “Stupid kids. She went to a kegger with your brother and now she thinks she might be in labor. He’s too drunk to drive her and she’s having contractions, so she can’t drive herself. I’m gonna kill him. I can’t believe he’d take her somewhere like that, especially now.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”
“Jesse, don’t use that language with me,” she snapped. “Can you help her or not? I’m in Spokane and it’ll take at least an hour to get there. I’ll start making more phone calls if you can’t do it.”
“Wait, isn’t it too early?”
“A little too early, yes,” she replied, her voice tense. “I wanted to call an ambulance but she insists it’s just Braxton Hicks. Ambulance rides cost a fortune, you know, and she’s scared of the bills. She wants to go home but I think she might need the hospital. Can you get her or not? I can meet you there as soon as I hit town. I’ve got a real bad feeling about this, Jess. Didn’t sound like Braxton Hicks to me.”
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, wondering what the hell “Braxton Hicks” were. He saw Mary Jo come out of the bar, smiling at him ruefully. She knew all about sudden phone calls and changes in plans. “Where are they?”
He got the information, then hung up, walking over to his date and shrugging his shoulders. This sucked. He wanted to get laid, and not at the clubhouse. Some fuckin’ privacy would be nice for once, and Mary Jo was wild as they got.
“Club business?” she asked lightly. Thank fuck she wasn’t a drama queen.
“Nope, family,” he replied. “My asshole stepbrother knocked up his girlfriend and now she’s going into labor. Needs a ride to the hospital. I’m gonna go get her.”
Mary Jo’s eyes widened.
“You should leave,” she said quickly. “I’ll take a cab home. Shit, that sucks . . . How old is she?”
“Just turned seventeen.”
“Damn,” she said, shivering with genuine horror. “I can’t imagine having a kid that young. Call me later, okay?”
He gave her a fast but hard kiss. She reached down and offered his cock a quick squeeze. Ruger groaned, feeling himself stiffen. He really needed to get laid . . .
Instead, he pulled away and walked over to his bike.

The party was halfway to Athol, off in some field that he vaguely remembered visiting when he was in high school. He found Zach’s truck easy enough. Sophie stood next to it, looking scared in the summer twilight. Then her face tightened and she hunched over her giant belly, groaning. Now she looked terrified.
Ruger parked his bike and realized he’d have to leave it in the field—no way she could ride with him. Fucking great. Asshat little shits would probably run over it or something. Sophie’s face was white with strain, though. No room to fuck around. She needed to go in the truck, and clearly she needed to go now. Ruger shook his head, glancing around for his brother.
He still couldn’t figure out why a smart, beautiful girl like her would pick Zach, of all people. Sophie had long, reddish-brown hair, beautiful green eyes, and a way about her that screamed feminine softness—a softness he’d spent more than one night imagining with his dick in his hand. Even pregnant in the middle of a field party, she was still gorgeous.
Way the fuck too young, though.
She saw him and winced, reaching around to put one hand against her back, stretching as the contraction ended. Ruger knew she didn’t like him, and he didn’t blame her. They hadn’t met under the best of circumstances, and things between him and Zach went further to shit every day. Ruger hated the way he treated their mom and hated the way he lived his life. More than anything else, he hated the way the little fuck was already running around on Sophie behind her back.
Cocksucker didn’t deserve a girl like her, and their kid sure as hell hadn’t won the lottery when it came to his future daddy.
“How you doing?” he asked, coming up to Sophie and hunkering down so he could see her face. Her eyes were full of panic.
“My water broke,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “The contractions are coming really fast. Way too fast. It’s supposed to be slow with your first baby, it never happens this fast. I need to get to the hospital, Ruger. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered. “You got the keys?”
She shook her head.
“Zach does. He’s over by the bonfire. Maybe we should call an ambulance? Oh . . .” she groaned, leaning over.
“Hang in there,” he said. “I’ll get Zach. I can drive you to the hospital faster than an ambulance at this point.”
She groaned again and leaned back against the truck. Ruger took off toward the bonfire, finding Zach half passed out on the ground.
“On your feet, asshole,” Ruger demanded, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him upright. “Keys. Now.”
Zach looked at him blankly. Was that barf on his shirt? High school kids stood around watching them, eyes wide as they clutched their big red Solo cups of cheap beer.
“Fuck me,” Ruger muttered again, digging down into his brother’s pants pocket, hoping like hell he hadn’t lost them. This was closer to Zach’s dick than he ever needed his hand to be. He pulled out the keys, dropping Zach back into the dirt.
“You wanna see your kid gettin’ born, get your ass in the truck now,” Ruger told him. “I’m not waiting for you.”
With that he took off toward the Ford, wrenching open the door and lifting Sophie into the backseat. He heard a thudding noise and saw Zach climb into the truck bed out of the corner of his eye.
Little prick.
Ruger turned on the engine and popped it into gear, ready to go. Then he slammed it back into park, jumped out, and ran over to his bike. He had a little first aid kit in there. Nothing fancy, but at this rate they might need it. He climbed back in the truck, pulled out of the field and started toward the highway, watching Sophie anxiously in the rearview mirror. She was panting hard and then she screamed.
Every hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“Holy shit, I feel like I need to push,” she cried. “Oh, God, it hurts. It hurts so bad. I’ve never felt anything like this, drive faster. We need to get there fast . . .”
Her voice trailed off as she groaned again. Ruger drove faster, wondering if Zach had something to hold on to. He couldn’t see him back there. Maybe he’d passed out in the bed.
Hell, maybe he’d bounced out. Ruger didn’t care either way.
They’d almost made it to the highway when Sophie started shouting.
“Stop! Stop the truck.”
Ruger stopped, hoping to hell that didn’t mean what he thought it did. He threw on the parking brake and turned to see her, eyes closed, face almost purple and full of agony. She was crouching forward, moaning.
“Ambulance,” he said, his voice grim. She nodded tightly. He made the call, giving the operator the details of their situation. Afterward, he put the phone on speaker, dropping it to the seat. Then he got out and opened the back door, leaning in.
“I’m here with you, Sophie,” the 911 operator told them. “Hold on. The paramedics only have to come up from Hayden. You’ll see them soon.”
Sophie groaned through another contraction.
“I have to push.”
“The ambulance is ten minutes out,” the operator said. “Can you hold on until they reach you? They have everything they need to help you with this.”
“FUCK!” Sophie screamed, squeezing Ruger’s hands so hard his fingers went numb.
“All right. It’s unlikely the baby will be born before they arrive, but I want you to get ready, Ruger,” the operator said, her voice so calm she sounded stoned. How did she do that? He felt about thirty seconds away from a heart attack. “Sophie needs you now. The good news is that childbirth is natural and her body knows what to do. A baby born this fast usually means a very smooth delivery. Do you have a way to wash your hands?”
“Yeah,” Ruger muttered. “You gotta let go for a sec, Sophie.”
She shook her head, but he pried his hands free. He ripped into the first aid kit, pulling out a couple of ridiculously small sanitary wipe packets. Then he attacked his hands and tried to go after hers.
She screamed and punched his face.
Holy shit, girl had some power behind her. Ruger shook his head, then pulled it together, cheekbone throbbing.
Another contraction.
“It’s too early,” Sophie gasped. “I can’t stop it. I have to push now.”
“When is she due?” the operator asked as Sophie moaned long and low.
“About a month,” Ruger told her. “It’s too early.”
“All right. The most important thing is to make sure the baby is breathing. Don’t let it fall on the ground if it’s born before the EMTs arrive. You’ll have to catch it. Now don’t panic—it can take hours to push out a baby, especially the first one. But just as a precaution, I want you to find something warm to wrap around the child if Sophie delivers. You’ll check the baby’s breathing. If it’s good, you’ll lay him on the mother’s bare chest, face down, skin to skin. Then put whatever you have over him. Don’t tug on the cord, cut it, tie it off, or anything. Keep your hands away from the birth canal. If the afterbirth comes out, wrap it with the child.”
That’s when it hit him.
Sophie was going to have her baby right here on the side of the road. His nephew.
Right now.
Holy shit, she needed to get her pants off first.
She wore leggings and he tried to pull them down with her still inside the cab. It didn’t work, and she couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position, either.
“We have to get you out of here,” he said. She shook her head, teeth gritted, but he picked her up and set her feet on the ground anyway. Then he pulled down her sopping wet leggings and panties in one smooth move, lifting one foot and then the other to free her legs from the clinging fabric.
Now what?
Sophie cried out again, face tight as she bore down next to him, falling into a squat beside the truck.
Fuck, he needed something to keep the baby warm.
Ruger glanced around frantically, finding exactly nothing, so he pulled off his cut and tossed it into the truck. Then he ripped his T-shirt over his head. It wasn’t the best, but it was relatively clean. He’d showered and put on a fresh one before meeting Mary Jo.
Sophie pushed for an eternity, crouched down and digging her fingers deep into his shoulders. He’d have bruises there in the morning. Probably cuts from her nails, too. Whatever. The 911 operator’s calm voice encouraged them, saying the ambulance was only five minutes out. Sophie ignored her, lost in her own world of pain and urgency, giving loud, low groans with every contraction.
“Can you see the baby’s head?” the operator asked. Ruger froze. “You want me to look?”
He was pretty damned sure he didn’t want to look. Fuck. Sophie needed him, though. The kid needed him, too. Ruger dropped down to peer between her legs.
That’s when he saw it.
A tiny head, coming out of her body, covered with dark black hair. Holy crap.
Sophie sucked in a deep breath and gripped his shoulders even harder. She let out one loud, long moan as she pushed again.
Then it happened.
Ruger reached down—almost in a trance—as the world’s most perfect little human slid right out of her and into his hands. Sophie started crying with relief as blood streaked her thighs.
“What’s happening?” the operator asked. He heard a siren in the distance.
“The baby just came out,” Ruger muttered, awed. He’d seen a calf born, but that had nothing on this. “I’m holding it.”
“Is it breathing?”
He watched as the newborn opened its little eyes for the first time and looked right at him. They were blue and round and confused and fucking gorgeous. They closed again as the baby screwed up its tiny mouth, sucked in a deep breath and let out a piercing wail.
“Yeah. Fuck. The kid is fine.”
Ruger looked up at Sophie as he raised the baby between them. She smiled hesitantly and reached for her child. Her exhausted, tear-streaked-yet-radiant face was the second most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.
Right after those tiny blue eyes.
“You did good, babe,” he whispered to Sophie.
“Yeah,” she whispered back. “I did, didn’t I?”
She kissed the boy’s head softly.
“Hey Noah . . . It’s mommy,” she said. “I’m gonna take such good care of you. I promise. Always.”


Our last night in Seattle didn’t go so great.
My babysitter, my emergency backup sitter, and my second emergency backup sitter all had the flu. I’d have been screwed if one of my new neighbors hadn’t volunteered to keep an eye on Noah. I didn’t really know her, but we’d been living next to each other for a month and no red flags. Not the best, I know.
You do what you have to when you’re a single mom.
Then Dick yelled at me for coming in late for my shift.
I didn’t tell him I’d nearly missed work altogether because of Noah. And no, I’m not just calling him Dick because he’s actually a dick (although he is). It’s his real name.
That night I truly understood why he was in such a bad mood, because of the six girls who were supposed to be on, only two showed. Two had the flu (genuine—half the city had it) and two had dates. Or I’m assuming they had dates. Their official stories were a dead grandmother (her fifth) and an infected tattoo.
Apparently none of the drug stores in her neighborhood carried Bacitracin.
Either way, things fell to shit fast. We had a band, which put the customers in a good mood, but the live music and drunken dancing made it even harder to keep up with my tables. Also made us busier than usual. We would’ve been stretched even with a full staff. To make things perfect, it was a local band and most of their fans were college students, which meant crappy tips.
By eleven I was already tired and needed to pee in a bad way, so I ducked into the bathroom. Out of toilet paper already (of course), and I knew damned well nobody had time to restock. I pulled out my phone, doing a quick check for messages, and saw two. One from Miranda, my babysitter, and a second from Ruger, the world’s scariest almost-in-law.
Miranda first. I held it to my ear and listened, hoping to hell everything was all right. No way Dick would let me off early, even for an emergency. Ruger could wait.
“Mom, I’m scared,” Noah said.
I froze.
“I took Miranda’s phone and I’m hiding in the closet,” he continued. “There’s a bad guy here and he’s smoking inside and he wanted me to smoke, too, and they kept laughing at me. He tried to tickle me and make me sit on his lap. Now they’re watching a movie that has naked people in it and I don’t like it. I don’t want to be here and I want to go home. I want you to come home. I really need you. Right now.”
I heard his breath hitch, like he was crying but didn’t want me to know, and then the message cut out.
I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control my surge of adrenaline. I checked the time on the message—almost forty-five minutes ago. My stomach twisted and for a second I thought I might puke. Then I pulled it together and left the bathroom. I managed to walk back into the bar and had Brett, the bartender, unlock the drawer where we kept our purses.
“I need to get home, my kid’s in trouble. Tell Dick.”
With that I headed toward the door, pushing through drunken frat boys. I was almost out when someone grabbed my arm, spinning me around. My boss stood there, glaring.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Williams?”
“There’s an emergency,” I told him. “I need to go home.”
“You leave me now with a crowd like this, don’t come back,”
Dick growled. I leaned forward and stared him down, which was pretty easy considering the guy was hardly more than five feet tall. On good days I thought of him as a hobbit.
Tonight he was just a troll.
“I need to take care of my son,” I said coldly, using my deadliest troll-killing voice. “Let go of my arm. Now. I’m leaving.”

Driving home took at least a year.
I kept trying to call Miranda, but nobody answered. When I reached our ancient apartment building, I tore up the wooden stairs to the top floor, shaking with a weird mixture of rage and fear. Miranda’s place was right across from my little studio, and while my thighs and calves hated the climb, I loved how we were the only residents up here. Until now.
Tonight it felt remote and scary.
I heard music and grunting as I pounded on the door. No answer. I pounded harder and wondered if I’d have to break in. Then the door flew open. A tall guy with unbuttoned pants and no shirt blocked the entry. He had the start of a gut and bloodshot eyes. I smelled pot and booze.
“Yeah?” he asked, swaying. I tried looking around him, but he blocked me.
“My son, Noah, is here,” I said, struggling to stay calm and focus on what really counted. I could kill this asshole later. “I’m here to pick him up.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot about him. C’mon in.”
He stepped aside and I ducked past him. Miranda’s place was a studio just like ours, so I should’ve seen Noah right away. Instead I spotted my useless neighbor on the couch, collapsed on her back with her eyes glazed and a dreamy smile on her face. Her clothes were rumpled, her long hippie skirt shoved up above her splayed knees. The phone lay on the coffee table in front of her, next to a bong made out of plastic pens, foil and a Mountain Dew bottle. Empties surrounded it, because apparently weed wasn’t enough to keep her entertained while she failed to babysit my seven-year-old child.
“Miranda, where’s Noah?” I demanded. She looked at me blankly.
“How should I know?” she slurred.
“Maybe he went outside,” the guy muttered, turning away from me as he reached into the fridge for another beer.
I caught my breath.
Across his back was a giant tattoo that looked kind of like Ruger’s, only it said Devil’s Jacks instead of Reapers. Motorcycle club. Bad news. Always bad, despite what Ruger insisted.
I’d think about that later. Focus. I needed to find Noah. “Mama?”
His voice was soft and trembling. I looked around frantically, then saw him climbing in through an open window facing the street. Oh my God. I moved toward him, forcing myself to approach oh-so-carefully. Four flights above the ground and my boy was clinging to a windowsill. If I wasn’t damned careful, I’d knock him off the ledge.
I reached out and clamped my hands around his upper arms, pulling him in and clutching him close. He wrapped around me like a little monkey. I rubbed my hand up and down his back, whispering how much I loved him and promising never to leave him alone like that again.
“I don’t get what you’re so upset about,” Miranda muttered, pulling herself up to make room for her asshole boyfriend. “There’s a fire escape out there and it’s not like it’s cold. It’s August. Kid was fine.”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and forced myself to stay calm. Then I opened them and looked past her.
That’s when I saw the porn on the TV.
My eyes skittered away from the sight of a silicone woman screwing four guys simultaneously. Something terrible took fire in my heart.
Stupid bitch. Miranda would pay for this.
“What’s your problem, anyway?” she slurred.
I didn’t bother answering. I just needed to get my boy out of here and home safe. I’d deal with my neighbor tomorrow. Maybe by then I’d have calmed down enough not to end her miserable life.
I carried Noah out of the apartment and across the hallway to my own door. Somehow I managed to get it open without dropping him, fingers trembling from suppressed rage and a health dose of guilt.
I’d failed him.
My baby needed me, and instead of protecting him, I’d left him parked with a druggie who could’ve gotten him killed. Being a single mom sucked.

It took a warm bath, an hour of snuggles, and four books to get Noah to sleep.
Me? I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again.
The summer heat didn’t help—I swear, the place had zero airflow. After an hour of sweating in the darkness, watching his little chest rise and fall, I gave up. I popped a beer and sat down on our couch, a thousand plans running through my head. First, I’d kill Miranda. Then either I needed to find a new place to live or she did. I also pondered whether to call the cops.
I liked the idea of throwing her and her stoner boyfriend to the wolves. They deserved a friendly visit from the boys in blue.
But since her man was in a motorcycle club, calling the cops might not be the smartest move. Guys in MCs generally weren’t fond of the police, a perspective he and his club brothers might feel the need to share with me once he made bail. Not to mention Child Protective Services would get involved, which could also get pretty ugly.
I loved Noah and would do anything for him. I was a damned good mother. When other girls my age were out partying and having fun, I was taking him to the park and reading him stories. I spent my twenty-first birthday holding him while he puked from stomach flu instead of hitting the bars. No matter how rough things got, I spent time with Noah every day and made sure he felt loved.
But I didn’t look so good on paper.
Single mom. Dad out of the picture. No family around, crappy studio apartment. Probably unemployed after tonight . . . What would CPS make of that? Would they blame me for leaving him with Miranda in the first place?
I had no idea what to do. I took a long pull on the beer and then turned on my phone, where Ruger’s message glowed at me accusingly. Crap. I hated calling him. No matter how much time he spent with us (and he made a point of seeing Noah regularly), I just couldn’t relax around him. Ruger didn’t like me and I knew it. I think he blamed me for destroying his relationship with Zach. God knows, I played my part. I pushed that memory away.
I always pushed that memory away.
If only I unnerved him, too, but apparently that was too much to ask. Instead he just looked right through me, hardly bothering to acknowledge my existence.
Even more frustrating? Ruger had to be the hottest guy I’d ever met. He was all danger and hard muscles, with his tattoos and piercings and that goddamned black Harley of his. When he walked into a room he owned it, because it only took one look to see he was a fucking badass, the type who takes what he wants and never says he’s sorry.
I’d been nursing a hell of a crush on him for longer than I cared to acknowledge, something he’d failed to notice despite his apparent fascination with every other woman under the age of forty within five hundred miles. Well, failed to notice all but once, and that hadn’t exactly ended well.
At least he never brought any of his club whores around (which I greatly appreciated), but that didn’t change the fact that he was one of the biggest sluts in north Idaho.
So that’s where we stood.
Presented with my nonthreatening charms, the panhandle’s sexiest, most prolific man-whore still preferred hanging with my seven-year-old child during his visits.
I sighed and hit the play button.
“Sophie, answer your fucking phone,” he said, his voice cold and unyielding, like usual. “I just got a call from Noah. I talked to him for a while and tried to keep him calm, but then some bitch started yellin’ and took the phone away. Nobody answered when I called back. I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking, but your kid needs you. Get off your ass and go get him. Now. I swear, if anything happens to him . . . You don’t wanna go there, Sophie. Just fucking call me when you find him. No excuses.”
I dropped the phone and leaned forward on my knees, rubbing my temples with the tips of my fingers.
In addition to everything else, now I had to deal with Mr. Being-A-Biker-Isn’t-A-Crime losing his shit on me. Which he would do, I had no doubt. Ruger was scary enough in a good mood. The one time I’d seen him truly enraged still gave me nightmares, and that’s not a figure of speech. Unfortunately, he had a point. When my son needed me, I hadn’t answered the phone. Thank God Ruger had been there for Noah. But still . . . I really didn’t want to deal with him right now, either.
I couldn’t leave him hanging, though, worried about Noah all night. He’d called me a bitch the last time I saw him, and maybe he had a point, but I wasn’t a big enough bitch to torture him like that. I hit the callback button.
“He all right?” Ruger demanded, not bothering with a hello.
“I’ve got him and he’s fine,” I said. “I couldn’t hear the phone ring at work, but I found his message and left about forty-five minutes later. He’s okay. We got lucky and nothing happened, not that I can tell.”
“You sure that asshole didn’t touch him?” Ruger asked.
“Noah said he tried to tickle him and make him sit on his lap, but he ran away. They were completely cross-faded. I don’t think they even noticed when he took off. He was hiding outside on the fire escape.”
“Fuck . . .” Ruger said. He didn’t sound happy. “How high up was he?”
“Four stories,” I replied, closing my eyes in shame. “It’s a miracle he didn’t fall.”
“Okay, I’m driving. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t fucking leave him alone again, or you’ll answer to me. You got that?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. I hung up the phone and set it down on the table. The room felt stifling and I couldn’t get enough air, so I crept softly across the floor to the window. The splintery wooden sash slid up with a groan and I leaned out, looking down at the street, sucking in the cool breeze. The bars had just emptied and people laughed outside, walking along like everything was fine and dandy.
What if I hadn’t checked the voice mail? Would any of these happy drunks have looked up and seen a little boy clinging to the fire escape? What if he’d fallen asleep out there?
Noah could be dead on that pavement right now.
I finished my beer and grabbed a second one, then sat on my ratty couch and pounded it. The last time I checked the clock, it said three a.m.

A noise in the predawn darkness woke me. Noah?
A hand covered my mouth as a large body came down over mine, pinning me to the couch. Adrenaline poured through me too late—no matter how I struggled, bucking my entire body against his, my attacker held me trapped. All I could think about was Noah, sleeping right across the room. I needed to fight and survive for my son, but I couldn’t move and I couldn’t see a damned thing in the darkness.
“You scared?” a rough, dark voice whispered in my ear. “Wondering if you’ll live through the night? What about your kid? I could rape and kill you and then sell him to some sick pedophile fuck. You couldn’t do a goddamned thing to stop me, now could you? How you gonna protect him livin’ in a place like this, Sophie?”
Fuck. I knew that voice.
He wouldn’t hurt me. Asshole.
“I didn’t even have to break through the fuckin’ pathetic lock you have on this shithole,” he continued, shifting his hips over mine, emphasizing how little control I held. “Your window’s open and so is the window in the hallway. I just stepped out on the fire escape and walked right over, which means anyone else could, too. Including that sick fuck who messed with our boy earlier. That bastard still in the building? I want him, Sophie. Nod your head if you’ll stay quiet, and I’ll let you talk. Don’t scare Noah.”
I nodded my head as best I could, trying to calm the racing of my heart, torn between the remains of fear and my building anger.
How dare he judge me?
“You scream, you’ll pay.”
I jerked my head. He pulled his hand away, and I took several deep breaths, blinking rapidly, trying to decide if lunging at him with my teeth would be worth it. Probably not… Ruger was heavy and he covered my entire body, his legs clamping down across mine, my arms trapped deep in the couch. I couldn’t remember him ever voluntarily touching me before—not for four years, at least. That was a good thing, because something about Ruger turned off my brain in a bad way, leaving my body in charge.
I got knocked up the last time I left my body in charge.
I’d never regret my son, but that didn’t mean I should let my libido do the thinking for me again. After I finally got shot of Zach, I’d only gone out with very safe, very boring men. I’d had three lovers total in my life, and numbers two through three were nice and tame. I didn’t need a complication like my son’s biker uncle . . . But I’d caught his familiar scent now—gun oil and a hint of male sweat—which led to an annoyingly predictable response down below.
Even angry, I wanted Ruger.
In fact, I usually wanted him more when I was angry. This was unfortunate, because he had a gift for pissing me off. Life would be so much simpler if I could just hate him. The man was truly an asshole.
He just happened to be an asshole who loved the hell out of my kid.
So now he lay on top of me and I wanted to head-butt him or something, but I also felt embarrassing heat pool between my legs. He was big and hard and right there and I didn’t know how to handle that. Ruger always kept his distance from me. I expected him to let me up now that he’d made his point in the least constructive way possible, but that didn’t happen. Instead he shifted again, leaning up on his elbows on either side of me, holding me trapped.
His legs moved, one coming to rest between mine. Way too intimate. I tried to close my knees, but he narrowed his eyes and slid his hips into the cradle of my pelvis.
Wrong. So wrong . . . And unfair, too, because clenching him between my legs didn’t exactly make my brain work better. I squirmed, needing him to be far away from me. Immediately. Yet I couldn’t help wondering whether I could reach down between us and open his fly.
The man was like heroin—seductive, addictive, and a damned good way to wake up dead.
“Hold still,” he whispered, voice strained. “The fact that my dick’s in its happy place is probably saving your life. Trust me when I say I’m seriously considerin’ strangling you, Sophie. Thinking about fuckin’ you helps balance that out.”
I froze.
I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. We had an agreement. We’d never discussed it, but we both followed it scrupulously. Sure enough, though, he pressed his hips into mine again and I felt his hard length growing against my stomach. My inner muscles clenched, sending a wave of need wrenching through me. This was cheating. The infatuation went one way—I lusted after him, he ignored me, and we pretended nothing had ever happened between us.
I licked my lips and his eyes followed the small movement, unfathomable in the dim light starting to filter through the windows. “You don’t mean that,” I whispered. He narrowed his eyes, studying me like a lion scoping out the slowest gazelle. Wait, did
lions eat gazelles? Was this really happening?
“This isn’t you, Ruger,” I told him. “Think about what you just said. Let me up and we’ll talk.”
“I fucking mean every word,” he replied, harsh and angry. “I hear my kid is in trouble and his mom’s nowhere to be found. I spend hours driving across the state, scared shitless that someone’s molesting or murdering our boy, and when I finally get here I find you in a total shithole with a broken lock on the downstairs door and easy access to your apartment through an open window. I crawl in and find you passed out on the couch half naked and smellin’ like beer.”
He dropped his head down, scenting me and twisting his hips into mine. Shit, that felt good. I actually ached between my legs, it felt so good.
“I could’ve taken him away from you, easy as fuck,” he continued, raising his head, eyes burning through me. “And if I could, so could anyone else, which is not fuckin’ okay. So you’ll just have to sit tight and wait for me to cool down a little because right now I’m not feeling particularly reasonable. Until then, I’d suggest you not tell me what I mean, you got that?”
I nodded my head, eyes wide. I believed every word he said. Ruger held my gaze as he shifted his legs again and then both were between mine and I felt every inch of his dick right up against my crotch. He surrounded me completely, overwhelming me with his strength, and I had a sudden, crazy flashback to that night I’d lost my virginity to Zach in his apartment.
Me sprawled on a couch, legs spread, watching my life fall to shit.
Full circle.
Adrenaline still raced through me, and he wasn’t the only one who needed to cool down a bit. He’d scared me, damn it, and now the bastard was turning me on, a sensation that mixed disturbingly well with the anger and fear already overwhelming my system. I really couldn’t move, either. Ruger dropped his head down next to mine and groaned, grinding his hips into me. A swirl of tingling, tightening, traitorous desire twisted up along my spine from my pelvis. I moaned as he pressed hard against my clit. This felt good. Too good.
My inner slut suggested a surefire way to burn off tension . . .
As if reading my mind, Ruger’s breath caught. Then he pushed into me harder, rubbing his length back and forth against the thin layer of cotton covering my center. Neither of us said anything but I tilted my hips up to feel him better and he stiffened.
This is a bad idea, I thought, arching into him, closing my eyes. I’d wanted him for years. Every time I saw him, I secretly wondered what he’d feel like inside me.
Of course, if we did this, I’d still have to look at his smug, smirking face. He wouldn’t even be embarrassed, the stupid jerk. We had to stop immediately. But he felt fucking incredible. His scent surrounded me, the hard strength of his body pinning and spreading me like a captured butterfly. His nose brushed the curve of my ear and then he dropped lower, giving my neck a slow, sucking kiss, lips dragging across my skin until I had to bite my own to stay quiet. I twisted underneath him and acknowledged the truth. I wanted him deep inside. Now.
I didn’t care that captured butterflies die when they’re pinned. “Mama?”
I tried to speak but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and tried again, the heat of Ruger’s breath playing across my cheek. My entire body throbbed, and he shifted, slowly dragging his hips across mine again, deliberately taunting me.
“Hey, baby,” I called to Noah, my voice unsteady. “Um, give me a sec, okay? We have company.”
“Is it Uncle Ruger?”
Ruger thrust against me one last time before jackknifing up. I sat up unsteadily, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. Noah’s voice should’ve been cold water on my libido, but no such luck. I still felt Ruger’s delicious hardness between my legs.
“I’m here, little man,” Ruger said, standing and running his hands across his head. I studied him in the dim morning light, wishing with all my heart he looked more like my former boss, Dick. No such luck. Ruger was over six feet tall, roped with muscle and annoyingly handsome in an I’m-probably-a-murderer-but-I’ve-got-dimples-and-a-tight-ass-so-you’ll-still-lust-after-me kind of way. Sometimes he wore a mohawk, but the last few months he’d taken to wearing the same buzz cut he had when we first met, the slightly longer hair on top dark and thick.
Combined with his size, his piercings, his black leather club vest, and the tattooed sleeves on both arms, he belonged on a “Wanted” poster. Noah should’ve been terrified of him. But he didn’t seem to notice how scary his uncle was. He never had.
“I promised I’d come get you, didn’t I?” Ruger said softly. Noah crawled out of bed and stumbled over to Ruger, reaching his arms up for a hug. Ruger caught my boy and swung him high, meeting his gaze eye-to-eye, man-to-man. Ruger always did that—he took Noah seriously.
“You okay, bud?”
Noah nodded, wrapping his arms around his uncle’s neck and clutching him close. He worshipped Ruger, and the feeling was mutual. The sight was heartbreaking.
I always thought Zach would be Noah’s hero. Obviously, my instincts were shit.
“I’m proud of you, little man,” Ruger told him. I stood, planning to join them, but Ruger turned away. So he wanted some privacy. I wasn’t going to argue if it made Noah feel safe, but I still strained to hear the conversation as he carried my boy back to bed.
“You did good callin’ for help,” I heard him say faintly. “You ever get in a situation like that again, you call me. Call your mama. You can call the cops, too. You remember how to do that?”
“Nine one one,” Noah muttered, his voice sleepy and thick. A giant yawn caught him off guard and he slumped against Ruger’s shoulder. “But I’m only supposed to do that in an emergency and I wasn’t sure if I’d get in trouble.”
“A bad man touches you, that’s an emergency,” Ruger murmured. “But you did your best, you did what I said. You hid and that was real good, little man. I want you to lie down and go back to sleep, okay? In the morning I’m taking you to my house and you’ll never have to see those people or this place again. But you can’t come with me if you’re too tired.”
I caught my breath. What the hell?
I watched as he tucked Noah in, my mood far from mellow. Seconds later my kiddo was out again, clearly still exhausted. I pulled on a robe and waited for Ruger to come back, crossing my arms and bracing for battle.
He cocked a brow at me, deliberately checking me out. Was he trying to use sex to bully me? That might explain his little seduction-on-the-couch game . . .
“You forget the part about not pissin’ me off?”
“Why did you tell Noah he’s going to your house? You can’t make promises like that.”
“I’m taking him home to Coeur d’Alene with me,” Ruger replied, his voice matter-of-fact. He tilted his head to the side, waiting for the fight he had to know was coming. His neck was thick with muscles and his biceps flexed as he crossed his arms, matching my stance. It really wasn’t fair. A man this frustrating should be short and fat, with hairy ears or something. But it didn’t matter how sexy he was this time, I wouldn’t cave—he wasn’t Noah’s dad and he could step the fuck off. “I’m betting you’ll want to come with us, and that’s great. But he’s not stayin’ in this shithole another night.”
I shook my head slowly and deliberately. I felt the same way about our apartment—it didn’t feel safe anymore—but I wasn’t going to let him just swoop in and take over. I’d find us a new place. I wasn’t quite sure how, but I’d do it.
I’d spent the last seven years honing my survival skills.
“You don’t get to make that decision. He’s not your son, Ruger.”
“Decision’s made,” Ruger replied. “And he may not be my son, but he’s definitely my kid. I claimed him the minute he was born, and you damned well know it’s true. I didn’t like how you took him so far from me, but I respect why you did it. Things have changed now. Mom’s dead, Zach’s gone, and this”—he gestured around the ratty little studio—“this isn’t good enough. What the fuck do you need in your life that’s more important than giving Noah a safe place to live?”
I glared at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Keep it down,” Ruger told me, stepping forward into my space, pushing me back. It was a power play, pure physical intimidation. I’ll bet it usually worked for him, too, because when he loomed over me like that every survival instinct I had told me to roll over and follow his orders. Something quivered down below . . . Stupid body.
“It means exactly what it sounds like,” he continued. “What the fuck are you spending your child support on? Because it sure as shit isn’t this hellhole. And why the fuck did you move out of your other place? It wasn’t great, but it was okay, and it had that little park and playground. When you told me you were moving, I thought that meant you found something nicer.”
“I’m here because I got evicted for not paying my rent.”
His jaw tightened convulsively. His expression darkened, something impossible to read filling his eyes.
“You wanna tell me why—exactly—I’m just hearin’ about this situation?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “I don’t want to tell you anything. It’s none of your business.”
He stilled, taking a series of deep breaths. Long seconds passed, and I realized he was consciously forcing himself to calm down. I thought he’d been angry before, but the cold fury that came off of him now was a whole new level . . . I shivered. That was one of the many problems with Ruger. Sometimes he scared me. And the guys in his club?
Ruger was poison to a woman in my situation, no matter how sweet he was to Noah or how badly my body craved his touch.
“Noah is my business,” he finally said, each word slow and deliberate. “Everything that touches him is my business. You don’t get it, that’s your problem, but it ends tonight. I’m taking him home where it’s safe so I won’t ever get another fucking phone call like that one again. Jesus, you haven’t even done the basics to secure this place. Don’t you ever listen to me? I told you to get some of those little alarms for the windows until I could come over and wire the place up right.”
I steeled my spine and held fast.
“One, you don’t get to take him anywhere,” I said, trying very hard not to flinch or let my voice tremble. I couldn’t afford to show any weakness, despite the fact that I was perilously close to peeing myself. “And two, your asshole brother hasn’t paid me any child support for nearly a year now. Health and Welfare can’t find a trace of him, either. I did my best, but I couldn’t keep up the rent on the other place. I can afford the rent here, so we moved. You have no right to judge me—I’d like to see you raise a child on what I earn. They don’t just give out those window alarms for free, Ruger.”
His jaw twitched.
“Zach’s working the oil fields in North Dakota,” he said slowly. “Makin’ damned good money. I talked to him two months ago, about Mom’s estate. He said everything was okay between you two.”
“He lied,” I said forcefully. “That’s what he does, Ruger. This isn’t news. Are you really surprised?”
I felt suddenly tired—thinking about Zach always made me tired, but sleep wasn’t the answer. He waited for me in my dreams, too. I always woke up screaming.
Ruger turned and walked over to the window, leaning on the sill and looking outside thoughtfully. Thank God, he seemed to be calming down. If he didn’t look so deceptively attractive silhouetted in my window, my world would make sense again.
“I guess I shouldn’t be,” he said after a long pause. “We both know he’s a fuckin’ loser. But you should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have let this happen.”
“It wasn’t your problem,” I replied softly. “We were doing fine, at least until tonight. My regular sitters all have that flu that’s going around. I made a mistake. I won’t make it again.”
“No, you won’t,” Ruger said, turning to face me. He tilted his head to the side, eyes boring through me. He looked a little different, I realized. He’d lost a bunch of his piercings. Too bad it hadn’t softened him up even a little bit, because his expression was pure steel. “I won’t let you. It’s time to admit you can’t do it all on your own. Club’s full of women who love kids. They’ll help out. We’re a family, and family doesn’t stand by when someone’s in trouble.”
I’d opened my mouth to argue when I heard a light knock on the door. Ruger pushed off the window and strode over to open it.
A giant of a man walked in, taller even than Ruger, which was saying something. He wore faded jeans, a dark shirt and a black leather vest covered with patches, just like Ruger’s, including his name and a little red diamond with a 1% symbol on it.
All the Reapers had them, and my old friend Kimber had told me it meant they were outlaws—that I had no trouble believing.
This new guy had shoulder-length, darkish hair and a face so perfectly handsome he could’ve been a movie star. Under one arm he held a stack of broken-down cardboard boxes, tied together with what looked like baling wire.
In the other he held an aluminum baseball bat and a roll of duct tape.
I swallowed and nearly fainted. My hands actually started sweating, because I’m cliché like that. My nemesis hadn’t just come to rescue us, he’d brought along one of his accomplices. That was the biggest problem with Ruger—he was a package deal. You bought one Reaper, you bought them all.
Well, all of them who weren’t currently serving time.
“This is one of my brothers, Horse,” Ruger said, closing the door behind him. “He’s gonna help us move your shit. Stay quiet, but start packing whatever you want to bring. You’ll be staying in the basement at my place. Don’t think you’ve seen my new property,” he added pointedly, which I knew was a dig at me for refusing his offer of a room at the beginning of the summer when we visited Coeur d’Alene. “But it’s got a daylight basement with a kitchen and everything, and you’ll have your own little patio. There’s tons of space for Noah to run around, too. It’s furnished, so only bring what you really care about. The rest of this shit can stay.”
He glanced around the room, judging my furniture. I saw his point. Most of it had been scrounged off curbs next to dumpsters. The finer pieces came from thrift stores.
“How’s the kid?” Horse asked softly, setting the boxes down and leaning them against the wall. Then he hefted the bat, giving it a little toss and catching it with his other hand. I couldn’t help but notice how thick his arms were. Apparently club life wasn’t all drinking and whoring, because Ruger and his friend obviously did some serious weight lifting. “Did the bastard touch him? What’re we dealing with?”
“Noah’s fine,” I said quickly. I eyed the tape, which Horse had failed to deposit next to the folded boxes. “He was scared, but it’s over now. And we really don’t need your help, because we aren’t going back to Coeur d’Alene.”
Horse ignored me, glancing toward Ruger.
“The guy still here?”
“Dunno yet,” Ruger replied. He looked to me. “Sophie, show us which apartment they’re in.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked, glancing between them. Their faces were completely blank. “You can’t actually kill him. You know that, right?”
“We don’t kill people,” Ruger said, his voice calm and almost soothing. “But sometimes assholes like him have accidents when they aren’t careful. Can’t control that—it’s a fact of life. Show us where he is.”
I looked at Horse’s big, strong hands holding his baseball bat and the roll of duct tape, one thumb caressing the silver surface. Then I thought about Noah clinging to a fire escape, four stories high, hiding from a “bad man” who wanted him to sit on his lap so he could tickle him.
I thought about the booze and the pot and the porn.
Then I walked to the door, opened it and pointed across the hall toward Miranda’s studio.
“They’re in there.”

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