Two years post college, straight-laced,hardworking, Amaya Davis is making waves in the male-dominated sports marketingindustry. Thanks to an abusive relationship, she’s sworn off men; so she buriesherself in work and her dreams keep her writhing in pleasure. But a chanceencounter at an art gallery opening finds Amaya face to face with NicholasHansen again. He’s the star of her dreams, and he awakens a desire deep withinher.
They decide to partner together in business andin the bedroom, the boardroom, the barn and anywhere else they can break awayto be together. But will Amaya’s insecurities and distrust separate these twoor will Nicholas show her how to overcome her past so they can have a future?
Release Party Jan 3rd
ML Preston was born and raised in OklahomaCity, where she learned early on that she had a gift for bringing worlds tolife with her words. An avid and voracious reader, she was encouraged tonurture her active imagination and quickly found a passion for storytelling.Inspired by her own personal love story, she began to write the voices in herhead, embarking on a journey to share her stories. She spins tales of passionand romance where the lines between race and creed, physical perfection andsocial norms disappear in the face of love. Tales of real love; eroticconnections with a heart and soul that everyone can relate to. She now makes ahome in Texas with her husband and three children, who keep her grounded whenthe voices call on her to tell their story. And they never stop calling
In the ring, I’m trained, powerful, and in control.
And that’s exactly how I built my legacy.
For years I’ve trained to fight, but no championship title in the world has prepared me for the most important fight of my life.
Out of the ring, I’m untamed and reckless.
Which is why my wife of nine years has filed for divorce.
I’m done with living up to the bad boy image my middleweight titles come with. Boxing is my life, but the money and the fame mean nothing to me without her by my side.
This fight is for the woman that I love.
And I can’t lose.
I won’t lose.
USA Today Bestselling Author, E.L. Montes (Emmy Luz Montes) lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, Alex, and their English Bulldog name Butters. She has a Bachelor of Science in Legal Studies.
Ms. Montes worked several years as a paralegal for a mid-size law firm. She had always loved the legal field and found it to be interesting. She more so “secretly” loved to write. Disastrous was her debut novel which was released October 2012. After the release of her second novel Ms. Montes took a huge leap, by leaving her fulltime job to focus on her writing career. She has and continues to write characters with flaws. Ms. Montes said, “No one is perfect and neither are my characters. It makes the storyline a bit more realistic, in my opinion. But I also feel no matter who you are or the life you have lived, everyone deserves someone to love and be loved. I’m a hopeless romantic, and enjoy writing a story where my readers feel like they’re living and feeling every emotion.”
When Devon Bradford entered Nina Petrov’s life, she was broken and alone. He did everything in his power to tear down her defenses, refusing to let her push him away. In the end, it just wasn’t enough. Nina had backed him into a corner, and he ended up doing the very thing he promised Nina he would never do- leave her, just as all the other men had done to her before. By the time Nina’s secrets had finally come to light, Devon had already vanished- she left him with no other choice. In the end, she was forced to make the decision between letting the memory of him consume her, or vanquishing him from her mind forever.
Devon had abandoned Nina in her darkest hour, in what seemed like a lifetime ago. It had shredded her heart, and left her questioning her sanity. The day he’d left her, she’d buried a part of herself, but the memories of him continued to haunt her, leaving her feeling unsure about everything she thought she once knew.
It has been eighteen months since Devon Bradford disappeared from Nina’s life, but she’s worked hard to dispel the demons that once plagued her. One day at a time, she becomes one step closer to leaving her past behind and moving forward. That is, until one fateful day, Devon is hurled back into Nina’s life, and her reality will be forever changed.
As Nina finds herself chained once more to the ghosts of her past, she realizes Devon holds the key to her future. Can Nina really trust Devon this time, or will he leave her to pick up the shattered pieces of her life once more?
Find out in the shocking conclusion of The Shattered Pieces Series!
Stepping into her space, I lifted her chin, forcing her to peer up at me. She tried to look away, but I didn’t let her. I gazed intently into her eyes as she held my stare. I was dangerously close to crossing a line, but in that moment, nothing mattered to me but Nina. She was becoming embedded under my skin. I was becoming lost in her- lost in her beauty, her touch, and especially her mind. With every second that ticked by, I was free falling into her essence. I wanted to plunge into the depths of her thoughts and emotions to understand just a fraction of what made her into the woman that stood before me.
“So this is how it’s going to be between us?” I ask.
Nina stalks towards me, her lips quirking up, and runs her finger from my chest to my lower abdomen as she says, “You mean, we piss each other off all day while secretly wanting to fuck each other?”
I halt her hand a second before she reaches for my belt buckle and grab her by her upper arms, pulling her in close as I trace my lips against her quickening pulse in her throat. I murmur low and seductively, “I guess it’s not a secret, after all, then, is it Miss Petrov?” She pulls back to gaze at me, wide-eyed and speechless. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag. I think I can safely say I won this round.
Kiara Delaney is a passionate writer of fictional romance, suspense thrillers, and poetry. With a unique style of infusing plot twists peppered with a dash of ‘Who done it?’, and authentic dialogue, her books have a way of sucking you in and giving you a solid connection with the characters. She began writing poetry at a young age and evolved her love for writing into her current works after many years of encouragement from family and friends. She is also an avid reader, has a great sense of humor, and cannot function without coffee. She is a true writer at heart, and thus, will remain so until she forgets how words work.
Straighten up, pull it around, and get back on the track.
Declan Reede’s life is in a tailspin. Although he knows what he wants, he can’t see the road that will take him there. Wherever he turns, new secrets, lies, and half-truths threaten to send him crashing off-course. To deserve his family, he must fight his past mistakes and prove himself worthy.
But can someone out to deceive cost him the life he now craves?
**Due to strong language and sexual content not intended for anyone under age of 18**
Michelle Irwin has been many things: a hobbit taking a precious item to a fiery mountain; a young child stepping through the back of a wardrobe into another land; the last human stranded not-quite-alone in space three million years in the future; and a time-traveling madman in a box. All of these feats and many more were achieved through her voracious reading. Eventually, the cast inside her mind took over and spilled onto the page.
The Complete Hope Series Box Set with Bonus Material
Hope for Her – Book #1
What do you HOPE for?
Josh is on his last chance to live up to his family’s obligations, but he meets a girl that his father won’t approve.
Carrington wants to feel special and Josh’s attention is exactly what she craves.
Their volatile relationship has Josh questioning their connection, while Carrington develops feeling for someone else, but they aren’t ready to give up hope.
Hope for Him – Book #2
What do you HOPE for now?
Carrington is ready to be with the man of her dreams.
Jackson has moved on in need of a more normal life.
After an epic kiss, they know their life will never be normal again.
Can Carrington and Jackson find their way back to each other or will their past continue to tear them apart?
Hope for Us – Book #3
What do you HOPE for still?
Carrington’s past haunts her around every corner. A move to Arizona will give her much needed distance.
Jackson is one mediocre season away from being a bust in the NFL. A trade to Arizona with no distractions is what he needs to turn his career around.
Carrington and Jackson are back tougher again.
Are they ready to admit, they have no hope without each other?
What others are saying about the Hope Series:
What happened towards the end, I wasn’t expecting. As I read, I was feeling all kinds of emotions …” Paranormal Yours Book Club R&R
“I want more!!! It just keep getting better and better!” Heather Driscoll
“Their story came together beautifully and they finally got their HEA.” Barb Online Book Club
He walked into class and I turned my head away as soon as he looked at me. It was all rather dramatic, and I didn’t even mean it. It was a reflex. I was embarrassed.
Snippets of the other night and my behavior kept popping in my head at the most inopportune times—I thought back to the way he looked when I showed up at his door.
It was the same look he held now, walking into class. He took care of me, when I half expected him to shut the door in my face. He invited me in, he cleaned me up and put me to bed, and how did I repay him—by ignoring him.
Real mature, Carrington.
I watched him from this angle. I imagined how messy his hair would look if he wore it longer. He carried the ‘rolled out of bed’ sexy look well. It might be why I kept having naughty dreams about him, none as real and explicit as the one I’d had when I woke up next to him.
My face flushed as he turned to stare at me again. I looked away.
I needed to suck it up and talk to him. I figured I had until the end of class to figure out something to say. I would start by apologizing for not returning his calls. Thank him for taking care of me the other night and try and persuade him to give me another chance. He would give me another chance because he liked me. He had asked me out in the first place, right?
My anxious heartbeat slowed to a relaxed rhythm, and I stopped sweating.
I tried paying attention to the professor, but Calculus held no interest up against the saga I created in my own head.
Lost in one of my fantasies, I caught Josh in the corner of my eye, gathering his stuff and walking out the door.
Where is he going?
The entire class turned to watch Josh exit.
I gathered my stuff and bolted down the steps. As I exited the room, the professor held his hands out and asked, “Anyone else need to leave?”
I ran down the hall and out the door. I assumed he exited this way. A desperate squeal escaped my lips, but it morphed into a squeal of excitement. I spotted him as he walked down the path to the student union.
I took off running but began slowing down halfway.
What am I going to say?
I caught up and fell in step two feet behind him. I reached out and grabbed his shirtsleeve and the book in his arm fell with a thud.
“What the fuck?” he said as he turned around. His expression softened, but then it got all hard and stern.
His eyes darted around, and he cleared his throat.
I fought the urge to bolt.
“What?” he yelled. Students stopped and stared.
He bent down to grab his book. I needed to figure out something; in a few seconds, he would stand up and walk away. I needed to speak up, or he would walk away forever.
My mind went blank.
He stood back up.
Standing in front of me, he tilted his head to the side and crinkled his nose. As I still didn’t say anything, he shook his head and turned to walk away.
“For someone who wants to be my boyfriend, you’re not acting like it,” I said.
He turned back to face me. Confusion and frustration spread across his face. I’d said the wrong thing. I dropped my head and turned. When he dropped his books. The sound made me jump, but not as much as when he reached out and wrapped his hands around my biceps. My instincts were to pull away from the sudden contact, but it only made him increase his grip. My stomach fluttered as I searched my brain trying to find something to say that didn’t sound stupid or pathetic or desperate.
He remained silent and pulled me close. I leaned toward him while my mind screamed, No, don’t do it, run away. I shouldn’t be doing this, not out of fear of him, but out of fear of losing control.
My breath increased and my heart was pounding out of my chest. A small part of my brain registered the pain from how tight he held my arms, but another part of my brain overrode the pain and my heart rate spiked with the realization.
Oh, shit. He’s going to kiss me.
And, he did. His lips landed on mine, and it made my head spin. I was thankful for the grip on my arms, because I would have otherwise melted into the ground. His firm hands were a direct contradiction to his soft lips. I felt him pulling away and I followed, seeking more contact, but his grip flexed as if warning me to stop. I didn’t have a second to think because his lips were back on mine, harder this time. He angled his head to the left, and he slid his tongue between my open lips. As soon as our tongues touched, he withdrew, and I sought it out. His grip on my arms tightened, but as my triceps began to shake, he loosened his grip. He let go and wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand touched my chin to tilt it to the ideal angle in order for him to kiss me deeper. He directed this epic moment and I followed his cues. He paused and allowed air to pass between our moist lips, but my lips weren’t done.
He opened his mouth and my tongue found his as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his neck. I pulled him closer, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.
He no longer seemed in control of the situation. He reacted to my every move. I was in control.
Sydney Aaliyah Michelle is a Contemporary Romance writer, a voracious reader and movie fanatic who hails from Texas.
After surviving 5 1/2 years living in China, she had the courage to finally pursue her passion and become a writer.
Sydney has been blogging at sydneyaaliyah.com for three years, where she interviews people about their tattoos, discusses her favorite movie quotes, and journals about her writing and editing process.
Sydney’s novels tackle that dramatic world that is college and professional football and she writes heroins that love their men and the sport that they play.
She identifies the sci-fi action flick “The Matrix” as the best representation of her life in the past. She is now blessed to be awake and doing what she loves.
She can recite the entire script from the 80’s teen comedy/drama “The Breakfast Club” and loves any and everything associated with the Avengers Movie, especially Tony Stark.
When it come to books, Sydney reads different genres, but some of her favorite writers are Stephen King, Alex J. Cavanaugh, J.A Huss, M. Never & Emily Bronte. Under the Dome, The Great Gatsby & Wuthering Heights are her favorite books.
Book Title: The Fool Author: Liz Meldon Genre: Paranormal Romance Release Date: December 21, 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
One night can change everything.
That’s what they always say, and for now, vampire hunter Delia hopes it’s true. After years of mediocre performances, she’s still nothing more than a grunt in her hunter league, stuck on surveillance duty and low-level vamp busts.
So, when her informant drops an amazing lead in her lap, she jumps at the opportunity to take down the region’s rumored vampire leader at an invite-only masquerade ball. Clad in a mask and uncomfortable dress, Delia throws herself into the fray—only to realize she’s woefully unprepared for the night that awaits her.
Also… Some ridiculously attractive guy dressed as the Fool keeps distracting her.
One night. One job. One man. One chance to change her life.
All she has to do is not screw it up.
The Fool is a novella intended for readers aged 18+, and is the prologue for the paranormal romance serial Games We Play.
Music drifted languidly from speakers around the dance hall, and couples whirling around the floor barely missed a beat, moving this way and that, too wrapped up in themselves to notice when the songs changed. It was a more appealing sight than the one she was used to seeing on a dance floor: Kain and his boys grinding up on drunk girls, their sense of rhythm all but absent. Most here were intoxicated, but the costumes gave a degree of modesty, and no one, as far as she could see, was mashing pelvises.
She’d had a few conversations since leaving the bathroom, but the women flying solo were more interested in finding someone to spend the evening with, while most of the men fed her the same dull lines over and over again: Why was she alone? Where was her drink? Did she know her eyes sparkled like emeralds?
Delia had just barely escaped the last guy—his breath rank with alcohol—who kept guffawing in her face whenever he cracked a joke. So there she stood, hovering on the outskirts of the dance floor, unsure of her place.
Arms wrapped around herself, she watched a nearby couple as they danced. They were both young and slim, effortlessly gliding around like they’d done it a hundred times before. Maybe they had.
She blinked quickly, bringing herself out of her daze, and tightened her grip on her clutch as the jingling of bells grew louder. The Fool had found her again.
Throughout the night she’d spied that ridiculous gold and purple mask at a safe distance out of the corner of her eye. Sometimes she actually turned and looked, only to find him chatting with one or two other people.
“Delia,” he said, dipping his head cordially as he stood beside her.
She pursed her lips, noting the barely-there gap between their bodies.
She returned her gaze to the dancing couple. So elegant—hypnotic, even.
“Did you find who you were looking for?”
It took her a second to process the question, and she glanced his way curiously.
“Earlier,” the Fool continued with a nod in the direction of the garden. “You ran after someone. Did you find them?”
“No.” Delia squared her shoulders and let out a small sigh. “Just a look-alike. I don’t think the person I want to see will show tonight.”
“Pity.” The Fool sniffed, his gaze wandering the dancing couples. “Fortunate for me, however.”
She almost laughed. “Why?”
“Because now I can enjoy the pleasure of your company… uninterrupted.”
Delia forced away the incredulous look that flashed across her face, her lips threatening to turn upward in a smile, and finally faced him.
The Fool, however, continued to study the dancers, ignoring her narrowed stare.
“Does this usually work on girls?”
“What?” he asked innocently, sparing her a quick glance, a few of his bells jingling.
“This faux-formal crap you’re spouting.” She cocked her head to the side as she waited for a response.
Slowly, a smile spread across his face, lips pulling back to reveal a set of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I don’t know. Does it?”
“No,” she replied quickly, turning toward the dance floor again just before their eyes could meet. “It doesn’t.”
“Shame. And here I was thinking I’d been doing so well.”
“That’s presumptuous of you,” Delia remarked, her head tilting to one side again, mimicking the slow way the man dipped his female partner. Her fair blonde tresses tickled the floor, and they grinned at one another. Despite herself, Delia suddenly found herself grinning too.
Her skin prickled at the deep rumbly quality of his voice, but she was determined not to react to it.
“… Perhaps I can remedy that.”
She almost told him it was unlikely, all the while feeling a little guilty for her rudeness. After all, he had scared off that psychotic Donovan vamp earlier. Even if he didn’t realize it, she actually owed him. However, before she could get another word in, the Fool snapped at a passing waitress, and the woman hurried toward them with a tray of drinks in hand.
“You seem to have lost the one I brought you earlier,” the Fool noted as he handed her a glass, which Delia took almost begrudgingly. He then looked to the waitress and gently touched her arm as he said, “And if you can manage, perhaps a red wine for myself?”
“Of course, sir.” The woman gave a small nod before hurrying away, moving with more purpose than any of the servers Delia had seen all night. She raised an eyebrow at the Fool again; he wasn’t a vamp power-player, but he had to be someone important in the human world.
He caught her studying him, and then flashed a charming smile as Delia pretended to be admiring his bells.
“Champagne gives me a headache,” he told her, as if that explained the drink request.
Delia shrugged. “Sucks to be you.” The new glass of bubbly liquid, tinged with a rose-gold hue, slid down smoothly, but she vowed that this would be the last of the night. “I love champagne.”
“I know.” He then reached up and brushed his fingertip over her cheek. Delia flinched back, nostrils flaring in alarm. Even after his arm fell back by his side, she felt the warmth of his touch on her skin. “You get a little blush every time you drink it. Quite endearing.”
“Well, that’s some extra-close attention you’ve been paying to me,” she forced out, her breath catching at the intensity of his stare. She cleared her throat as she stepped back, flustered. Genuinely flustered. Because a hot guy in a stupid mask was doting on her, and Delia wasn’t accustomed to men doting on her. The guys in her history weren’t exactly the doting type.
But then again, there really was only one reason a man would dote on her…
Her blush darkened at the thought.
Toasting him with her champagne glass, she took another few steps back, alarmed that he followed slowly.
“Thanks for the drink… again,” she told him. Then, without another word, Delia turned on the spot and cut across the dance floor, not stopping until there was some distance between her and the Fool.
For a short time, she tried to distract herself with the sea of dancers, the swirl of fabric and the flash of masks slowly blending into one living, breathing organism.
Through the fleeting gaps between couples, she saw him. The Fool. Watching her from across the room, he stood quite still amidst all the twirling and whirling, through the swishes of fabric, his glass of red wine in hand. She wasn’t sure why she decided to stay there, directly across from him. Maybe it was the fact that after a night in sultry, but painful, heels, her feet finally decided enough was enough. Time to stay in one place for a while.
Delia chose to ignore the fact that every time she did try to move, her feet were like heavy stones, keeping her in place, in the Fool’s line of sight.
Liz is a Canadian author who grew up in the Middle East. She has a degree in Bioarchaeology from Western University, and when she isn’t writing about her own snarky characters, she is ghostwriting romance novellas, loitering on social media, or taking care of her many animals.
As a freelance ghostwriter, she has written thirteen books, which range from romance to horror, full-length to novella-sized. A handful are currently on the market, and she stalks their “authors” with fiendish delight. She loves writing realistic characters in fantastical settings.
“The sweetest friendships turn into something even better.” —Discovering Taryn
Friendship was the very last thing on either oftheir minds when they bump into each other in the school’s hallway. Taryn wastrying to be invisible, which was working until now. Levi was wondering justwhat he had gotten himself into when he was dazzled by a sweet and quiet girl.
Taryn Green is an orphan from South Dakota.She’s living with her aunt, going to a new high school, and doing her best toremain unseen. It is easy to protect yourself if no one gets close to you. Shedoesn’t count on meeting a boy who just keeps turning up. Sometimes secrets canbe too heavy to carry alone.
Levi Kodallas is an all-American teenage boy. Hedislikes school, loves the outdoors and plays football. School homework getshim into trouble when he asks a classmate to write his history paper for him.He has no idea just how much it could cost him. What if it jeopardizes hisfledgling relationship with Taryn? All of sudden it occurs to him that it’s toomuch to risk
A Nebraska native, A.C. Wilson now lives in historic Abilene,Kansas with her husband and two boys. Always an avid reader, A.C. first fell inlove with historical romances both Regency and Western. The world was a wideopen place where adventures could happen even between the pages of a book.Deciding to give the characters in her head some room to breathe, A.C. startedtyping and hasn’t looked back.
The Black Hills series books are contemporarywestern romances set in the iconic beauty of the Black Hills of South Dakota.The Johnson family holds true to their values of love, duty, family, andloyalty.
Sincethe age of 6 Grace McDonald always wanted to be a Broadway star.
Singing, dancing, acting she didn’t care as longas she was on a stage in the Big Apple.
She wanted that American Dream.
But when tragedy strikes before she’s due to golive out those dreams, it all comes crashing down!
Will she let this stop her or will she followher dreams like she always wanted?
**Some parts of this book contains sensitivesubject matters and might be a trigger for some readers** ***100% of profits will be donated to CancerResearch and Macmillan Cancer Care
Allana lives in Dundee, Scotland with her husband and twodaughters.
She has always had a passion for reading anduntil a few years ago, started secretly writing. She had always debated sharingit but never had the confidence to do so, until now. In her words; ‘Life is tooshort to regret things we could have done and wishing the should’ve, would’ve,could’ve’s.’
She wants to show not only her dithers but toeveryone else, that you can do whatever you want when you put your mind to it.
She loves reading a range of genres,particularly MC, Mafia and romance.
Other than reading and writing, Allana loves tohelp out other authors, watching WWE, dancing around the room with herdaughters, or at the cinema with her husband. She also loves to bake, it’s herstress reliever.
My husband committed suicide two years ago. Leaving me with two small kids Ithought my life couldn’t get worse. Then, I meet Tank, I fought the attractionthat I felt for him. Giving into it might be the best thing that has everhappened to me. As it turned out I was wrong, our worlds do not play welltogether.
The first night I saw Pearl, I knew I wanted her. What I was not ready for, washer fighting against this attraction we have. I want her, I don’t care that shehas kids, or that she doesn’t know shit about the type of life I have. Shethinks that the fact that she’s ten years older than me is an issue… its not.But the biggest thing she’s mistaken on is the fact that she thinks this thingbetween us is just a casual thing. She will be mine and there is almost nothingthat could happen to come between us.
Or is there?
(A Devil’sIron MC Story)
They almost took heraway from me. When I find them they will pay and be put to ground. I will lether heal, but I will not live without her for much longer. She will be mine andthere will not be a day that she questions who she belongs to. I don’t know howI will do this alone, again. My body, heart, mind, and soul are broken and Ijust need to feel something, anything. I have to find a way to get what I want,no need before I go insane with this pain.
I was born on a brisklate April morning and grew up in a small town in the Midwest but, quicklydecided that was not the life for her. I quickly moved away for college andthought better of returning to that small town on a long term basis. Cityliving is defiantly the life for me…
My day job working with people on the Autism spectrum keeps me on the go mostof the time. That is when my two small daughters and husband are not pulling mein different directions.
I am the kind of gal who is quirky, unique, smutty, crazy, hard to hate, harderto love. I have taken my love for telling stories to the next level by puttingmy hat in the romance writing game.
People have three faces, one you show the world,
one you show your family and close friends,
and your true face that you only show yourself.
Seven years is a long time to live behind the protection and safety of high thick walls. Kiera Mason is ready to re-enter society. Starting over with family she hardly knows, a new name, new city, new uncertainty of what her future holds. It’s never as easy as they say. Loss of everything she knows to be true, even who she is or was.
Jacob O’Malley local playboy, Harley riding, tattoo covered owner of a dive bar in downtown Charleston. Jake is content floating through life, bedding who he chooses, never committing. He has never been an emotional type, but when Whitney Anson’s cousin walks into the picture, Jake has met his emotional awakening in the blue eyes of Vivian Anson.
When hot-shot architect Alex West rolls into Charleston to work for Budreau Anson, Whitney decides she’ll let her “serviceman” Jake off the hook for cutting her off to pursue her cousin.
Alex West has no interest in Whitney and her superficial ways, he zeros in on Vivian.
Whitney Anson has been dethroned by her cousin Vivian, and the spoiled socialite isn’t having any of it. She’ll find a way be get what she wants even if it means creating havoc on the ones she holds near and dear. After all, she is the princess of Charleston, or so she thinks.
With all tragedies, they happen so fast, too fast to the point you doubt your own memories about the event. It’s never the same, you are never the same after tragedy strikes and you look death in the face and survive to tell your tale, especially when you look in the mirror and are reminded of the horror you endured.
I shake my head no, “Please stop.” I say pushing against him, “Don’t do this.” I say, my head screaming.
“Tell me… tell me, what you want.” his words are only a whisper.
I close my eyes and feel the heat come to my cheeks. “I can’t do this…” I say opening my eyes and looking into his.
“Vivian, let me do this, let me inside…let me taste you, let me show you pleasure.” his eyes match the intensity of his words as his lips take mine.
He catches me as my legs give out, pulling me into him. His mouth assaulting my lips, his arms holding me in place. My mind and body can no longer resist this gorgeous man. I no longer care. I need to be wanted, desired, I need to feel like a woman.
I run my hands around his waist and up his damp corded back, his muscles tight, tense with the need for me. His mouth and body invading my space attacking my senses. He lifts me, sitting me down on the counter grabbing the tops of my thighs and wrapping them around his waist.
I can’t get close enough,
Please touch me…Vivian, I need you to touch me and let me know it’s okay… say the words…. Tell me it’s okay….
Angela March has accomplished another “Life Goal” of writing a book series. Angela loves any and everything creative. She has taken all the aspects of the stories she likes to read, compiling them into her writing style. Add her own personal life experiences along with a dash of humor. Her *A Southern Series* (3 book series) were written loosely based off her life experiences thus far. And is excited to become a genre crossing writer with her first stand alone Psychological Thriller *Voices in Lavender* due out fall 2014. Angela’s life motto is… You have one shot at life.. When my time is up I want to slide into home saying what a ride… what a wild ride.