Anywhere and Always Book 1
Published: December 2019
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
One wild and passionate Caribbean night leaves Annelise with amazing memories…but what happens when her vacation fling reappears as a VIP client?
Deserted by her fiancé only three months before their wedding, a devastated Annelise decides to go on their Caribbean honeymoon alone in the hope of thawing the deep freeze of her emotions. Tripping and landing on top of the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen, a sexy French-Canadian stranger, is as surprising as it is mortifying.
Rémy Gaspard is staying at his family’s remote tropical resort to get some work done after a difficult visit with his sister, but instead, he finds himself drawn to the sad young woman he sees from across the beach. When she quite literally falls into his lap, he can’t believe his good fortune.
Their passionate vacation romance is cut short by a troubling accident and they part ways, but neither can stop thinking about the other. When they meet up again in Montreal, seemingly by accident six months later, their attraction is just as strong…or stronger. As they face the challenges of misunderstandings, suspicions and a shadowy menace that won’t leave Rémy’s family alone, one thing becomes clear. Their love remains strong, anywhere and always.
Book 2 in the Anywhere and Always Series: Snowbound with the Billionaire is Coming Soon!!!
She scrambled up as quickly as possible, but not before she pressed up against the length of a tall, muscular man. He was warm and smelled of the ocean and the wind—and also a bit spicy, like some of the more exotic seasonings used in the local dishes. As she brushed herself off and stood as swiftly as she could, she just had time to realize that he smelled…incredibly good. For someone I apparently fell on like a ton of bricks. Smooth. Real smooth, Annelise.
“I’m so sorry!” she apologized, feeling a hot blush rise from her hairline to her ears and even onto her chest. She knew her cheeks must be flaming.
The stranger, dressed only in faded board shorts that might have been red once but were now a washed-out salmon, was covered in sand. It dusted his tan, muscular chest and sprinkled his dark-brown hair. He might have looked silly if he hadn’t been… Well, the only words that sprang to her mind were ‘unbelievably gorgeous’. No, that wasn’t true. She also thought ‘scrumptious’ and ‘hot as hell’. Mentally recalling herself, she realized he hadn’t responded to her apology.
“Do you speak English? Español?” Annelise hoped he spoke at least a tiny bit of English, because her Spanish was abysmal. “Oh my gosh, did I hurt you?” she continued, worried.
The man sat up with a little shake, and his mouth quirked into a wry smile, making his dark eyes crinkle at the corners. “No apology needed. I must have fallen asleep. I’m fine. No harm done. Although”—he gestured at the empty beach—“it was an unlucky coincidence that you should choose this one spot to walk onto.” His accent sounded French, and his tone was compelling as he spoke, inviting her to share his amusement, not only at their situation but also possibly at life in general.
Annelise felt an unfamiliar smile tug at the corners of her lips. “I’m so glad you’re not hurt. And ‘unlucky’ should be my middle name,” she answered, the words out before she could recall them. It was totally unlike her to talk about her personal life with a complete stranger. Alone. On a deserted beach. Totally alone. She took an unconscious step backward.
The stranger didn’t look as though he’d been lying in wait to trip unsuspecting tourists, though. He looked as if he belonged—and as if he was mildly interested in what she was saying. If he’d looked too interested, she might have shut down, but instead, she found herself answering the questioning quirk of his dark eyebrow.
“I’ve…had a bit of a setback recently in my personal life,” she said. It was the understatement of the century.
“Sounds like it was a bad one. Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, just two strangers watching a Caribbean sunset and talking about their personal lives. It suddenly occurred to her that he was the first person besides the unobtrusive security guards that she’d seen on the private beach this entire trip. She’d actually begun to think she must be the only guest at the cabanas. Her thoughts turned suddenly suspicious.
“What are you doing on this beach? It’s supposed to be private and definitely a no-trespassing sort of place.” Her mind turned to the prominent guns she’d seen the security guards carrying, and she wasn’t sure if she was trying to intimidate or warn the stranger.
The white of his smile on his tan face was stunning in the sunset. “Thank you for the warning, chérie, but I am a guest here…in the owner’s cabana.” He gestured with one long, muscular arm and Annelise noticed a path she hadn’t seen before, leading to what looked like a giant house. It was much larger than her own spacious cabin.
“Oh, right. The owner’s French, isn’t he?” Annelise answered, trying to recall the details she knew of the resort. She’d learned about it from her colleague, and the owner was a big-time client of the financial services firm where she worked.
“French-Canadian,” the stranger corrected, raising his eyebrow again, “but I’ll let it slide just this once.”
“Sorry…I know there’s a big difference,” she hastened to apologize. Great, she’d now offended a close friend of a client who could get her fired.
The stranger shook his head. “I was teasing. I’m not so easily offended,” he said, bending up his knees and wrapping his arms loosely around them before motioning toward the soft-looking hollow next to him. “Care to join me? You can’t beat the view.”
About the Author
Aurora Russell is originally from the frozen tundra of the upper-Midwest (ok, not frozen all the time!) but now loves living in New England with her real-life hero/husband, two wonderfully silly sons, and one of the most extraordinary cats she has ever had the pleasure to meet. But she still goes back to the Midwest to visit, just never in January. She doesn't remember a time that she didn't love to read, and has been writing stories since she learned how to hold a pencil. She has always liked the romantic scenes best in every book, story, and movie, so one day she decided to try her hand at writing her own romantic fiction, which changed her life in all the best ways.
Release Date: July 28
Falling in love is one thing that you can’t control.
Lanie Moore likes her life to be perfect.
She doesn’t have time for a love life.
Brixton Crane flies by the seat of his pants. Permanent plans aren’t his thing. This world traveler just planted some roots near his childhood home.
When a sick child needs their help, the careful Lanie and the free-wheeling Brixton agree to work together.
But neither expected that their perfect match might just be their polar opposite.
And if they’re brave enough to tear down their walls, the perfect love might be the one once deemed imperfect.
Grab Your Copy Here!
Meet S.E. Rose
S.E. Rose hails from the Washington D.C. area. She currently resides with her husband, two children, and always at least two cats.
While she works at a desk during the day, her evenings and weekends are devoted to writing and editing her romance novels.
She loves all things wine, coffee, tea and dark chocolate; that’s right, dark chocolate.
In her spare time, she enjoys photography, traveling, going to concerts, and reading.
Connect with S.E. Rose
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SMITTEN by Lauren Rowe
Release Date: July 27th
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54151404-smitten
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I met Alessandra at a party. Tried to impress her. Was almost positive I was going to fail.
I think I said something along the lines of, “I’m a Goat called Fish who’s hung like a bull—but not really. I’m actually pretty average.” Smooth. I know. Try not to be jealous.
When she laughed—and I mean, really laughed—I knew she wasn’t like the other girls I’d been meeting on tour. Hell, she wasn’t even in the same stratosphere as those fangirls and gold-diggers.
At one point during the party, Alessandra said, “There’s nothing like a girl’s first love.” I knew she was talking about the first smash hit by my band, 22 Goats. Alessandra said it was the first song she’d heard by us and it “hit her like a ton of bricks.” Ironic, seeing as how I was having the same reaction from being in her presence.
I made it my mission to impress her. Give her the kiss of a lifetime that night. But since I’ve always been the dude with zero game, nothing went according to plan.
I’m not giving up, though. I’m going to win this girl over. I’m done sitting on the sidelines, watching the bad boy getting the girl. This time, the nice guy will finish first. Even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.
Smitten is an all-new standalone friends to lovers romance!
About the Author:
Lauren Rowe is the USA Today and international #1 best-selling author of newly released Reed Rivers Trilogy, as well as The Club Trilogy, The Josh & Kat Trilogy, The Morgan Brothers Series, Countdown to Killing Kurtis, and select standalone Misadventures.
Lauren's books are full of feels, humor, heat, and heart. Besides writing novels, Lauren is the singer in a party/wedding band in her hometown of San Diego, an audio book narrator, and award-winning songwriter. She is thrilled to connect with readers all over the world.
Connect w/ Lauren:
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/760337070730959
RESTRAINT by Adriana Locke
Release Date: August 3rd (Amazon & KU
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Blaire Gibson knows better than to have one-night stands.
She prides herself on her decision-making skills. It’s the one asset that has never let her down. But even the best thinkers have weaknesses. Hers is a delicious business mogul with a quick tongue. Unfortunately for her, that tongue is good for more than just talking.
Holt Mason doesn’t need to justify anything to anyone.
He wants Blaire. He pursues Blaire. And he gets Blaire because that’s how his life works.
Until it doesn’t.
What begins as a single night in a hotel room spirals into an unusual agreement. As late nights provide the space to trade secrets and walls come tumbling down, more is shared than just pillow talk.
They both should’ve known better. They should’ve shown restraint. Because when guards are dropped, hearts get hurt.
*RESTRAINT is a brand-new standalone romance from USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke.
There’s a look in his eye, something behind the brazen façade, that intrigues me. I haven’t given a man more than a dirty look in longer than I can remember. Who has the time? Who has the energy? Who wants to deal with that bullshit?
But as I stand on the porch of this beautiful home in the middle of a perfect southern evening, I remember Sienna’s instruction to enjoy my vacation.
“You don’t know enough about me to be right,” I volley back, continuing the banter because I can’t help myself.
“I disagree.” He shifts his weight, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll tell you three things about you besides the obvious. If I’m right, you’ll go to dinner with me.”
I think this over. I didn’t tell him anything about me, not even my name. There’s no way he can actually come up with one thing, let alone three, that’s deep enough to warrant a dinner date.
If nothing else, it’ll be a fun little experiment and a chance for me to prove that men don’t know everything.
“Fine,” I say. “But you have to impress me. Hair color, eye color—those types of things don’t count.”
He grins. “Absolutely not. There’s no fun in that.”
“All right. Shoot.”
“Your name is Blaire,” he says, catching me off guard. “You like gummy bears but feel like it’s a childish thing to enjoy, so you try to be discreet about your obsession. You prefer the red ones and hate the green ones. You like shopping but hate spending loads of money on things you think are a waste.”
My jaw almost hits the floor.
“And,” he says, taking a step closer to me, “you don’t date because you don’t have time. You also find men to be barbaric, adolescent creatures which, may I add, I find offensive.”
“How could you possibly know all that?” I demand.
The heat rolling off his body clamors into me, upping the beat of my heart tenfold. I hate my reaction to him and I hate even more than I can’t control it.
“Lincoln said your name. You dropped the candy from your purse in the airport and I just happened to notice you had it hidden in a little pouch. All the red ones were gone and it was chock full of the green. Your lipstick was a type my mother uses, so I know it’s expensive as hell, but your earbuds earlier weren’t a name brand so I put together you don’t value them as much.”
“I just lose them constantly,” I say, still sorting his observations.
“And now you lost our bet. Ready to go?”
My summer dress billows in the breeze, reminding me, once again, I’m not home.
This wouldn’t be like a dinner with a man I see regularly or could even see regularly if I wanted to. He lives almost a thousand miles from me.
What could one dinner hurt?
“Fine,” I say, stepping around him. “But I’m driving.”
About the Author:
USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather's nice and there's always a piece of candy in her pocket.
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/booksbyadrianalocke
Series: Classical Badboys Duet #2
Author: MV Ellis
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 27, 2020
Cover Design: Sarah Paige @ Opium House Creatives
We never play by the rules. In life, in music, or in bed. Rules are for those who give a f#ck what other people think. The only opinions we care about are our own.
We love each other like brothers, only closer. We’re each other’s biggest support and greatest rival, and we give each other everything. In life, in music, and in bed.
We’re the family we chose, not the one we were born with. Our bond is stronger than blood.
No woman has ever been a source of strain on our relationship.
Until we meet Quincy.
With her, something feels different.
She’s the piece of the puzzle we never even realized was missing.
But the friction she causes between us is like nothing we’ve ever felt toward each other, and it’s threatening to tear us apart.
I had her first. She wants him more. Why do I need to make her mine?
MV ELLIS knows what it’s like to fall head over heels in love with a badass musician. She followed her heart halfway around the world to be with one. She moved from London to Sydney after a steamy holiday romance with a sexy bass player in sultry Brazil.
Twelve years, two children and a dog later, and she’s still smitten. All this with a guy she sat next to on a bus for 36 hours! She has toured internationally as a ‘WAG’, and her experiences inspire her writing.
Ellis’ love of romance began when she was 11 years old, after a summer spent secretly reading her auntie’s books. She’s been a sucker for an alpha hero and strong heroine ever since.
An avid reader, Ellis always knew that she’d write a book of her own one day. She was right about that. Following a career spanning advertising, marketing, and social media, she finally wrote Catching London in 2017. She has continued to expand the Heartless Few series beyond Catching London, with releases planned through to 2020. In addition, she has launched a new four-part
series, Rough Ink series, set in the sexy world of a New York tattoo studio. Expect the same sexy badass guys, angst galore, witty banter, scorching bedroom scenes, and kickass sassy women; but with a whole new world, and cast of characters to get to know and love. Zed, the first book in the series launched in June 2019.
I hate him.
I want him.
He’s a jerk.
Hate the Player, a slow burn and hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is available now!
“Roses are red, violets are blue, stay away from Andrew Watson’s *ahem* because no other women ever do.”
That’s quite the way to start a conversation at a casual lunch, huh? Grilled chicken, French fries, and pelvic-fatigue, oh my!
And that’s not even the worst of it.
My friend Raquel didn’t pull any punches when she warned me about my brand-new co-star and his notoriously player-esque ways. Apparently, my most important mission on my first role in a feature film is to stay immune to his charms.
Are you kidding me? Production costs on this movie are in the hundreds of thousands a day, and staying away from a panty-whispering, vajayjay-charmer is supposed to be at the top of my list? Pfft. Puh-lease.
It doesn’t matter that he’s annoyingly attractive, uber rich, crazy famous, and lusted after by ninety percent of the female population; Andrew Watson is trouble with a capital T—especially for a woman like me.
As a preventative measure, I’ve decided to go ahead and hate him.
Don’t worry, you guys, I’m completely in control. There’s absolutely no way I’m going to do something stupid like fall in love with him.
I can hate the player but still secretly love his addictive game.
I’m sure of it.
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4 Heart Review by Ashley
I swear every time I read a book from Max Monroe I'm left with the giggles and swoons and Hate the Player was no exception. This enemies-to-lovers rom-com was full of humor and heat.
I absolutely adored Birdie. She was sassy and stubborn. Talented and kind. And so out of her element when it came to Andrew that she didn't know what to make of him from one minute to the next. That man was too charming for his own good, he knew it and he used it to his advantage. Not only to rile Birdie but also to help her focus. He knew exactly which buttons to push to coax the performance he knew she could give.
There was so much sexual frustration you could cut it with a spoon. I was waiting to see just what it would take to tip them over the edge and, let me tell you, it was well worth the wait. But it was Andrew's kindness that did me in. I even got a little weepy right along with Birdie at the overwhelming sweetness of some of the things he did for her. It wasn't long before the hate turned lust morphed into something else. Add fears and pride to the mix and things got complicated fast. It left Birdie and Andrew wondering what just happened.
Now, Hate the Player wouldn't be a true Max Monroe rom-com without a few key cameos. The ones here were perfectly timed to give Andrew and Birdie just the nudge they needed to get out of their own way. And that ending...Hollywood couldn't have written a better HEA if they tried.
True to my name, I’m about to take fucking flight. At least, I would if I could.
In this moment, it really would have been helpful if my trainer hadn’t successfully eliminated all the extra flappy meat on my upper arms. Surely, if I got them going fast enough, the wind beneath those bat wings could have carried me up and through the ceiling of this place.
C’mon, you big baby, I coach myself. You can do this.
One cavernous breath into my lungs and then another and another, and eventually, just before my vision turns tunneled, I will my feet to move away from the door.
Gleaming marble floors, golden statues, and a freaking fountain in the center, the lobby of Capo Brothers Studios is everything I should have expected and more.
If everything is bigger in Texas, then everything is most certainly richer in LA.
I check in with security quickly, my voice only a little croaky thanks to the frog in my throat, and head for the elevator bank at the far side of the lobby.
I’m to head to the fifteenth floor, I’m told, and then go straight down the hall to the glass doors on the left at the end. There, I’ll find William Capo’s office—the head honcho and only surviving brother of Capo Brothers.
My cowgirl boots are noisy on the marble floors when I do as instructed. The sound you make when you walk is such a small detail—one I don’t normally think about—but the echo of their clack today makes my heart feel like it’s knocking into my rib cage and each step across the ornate floor is merely a sound effect.
Fifteen floors eclipse quickly—clearly, they’ve spared no expense on their elevator—and the hallway that leads to William’s office seems strangely one-directional. Like once I go down it—once I take this step—there will be no going back. Which is probably why, after forcing myself to go the distance to the end, I pause at the open door, the points of my booted toes just shy of crossing the line.
“Good morning.” A pretty assistant dressed in a white power suit greets me before I’ve even cleared the threshold of the door, and all thoughts of escape are dashed. Like it or not, I’ve just been shoved over the line. I will my feet to do the same as she continues to speak. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Birdie Harris,” I answer and have to swallow hard against the dryness threatening to close my throat. “I have an audition.”
My nerves are so obvious, the assistant offers a sympathetic smile.
If she were from my childhood hometown in West Virginia, she’d most likely be thinking Bless her heart.
She taps something across the keyboard of her iMac and places her hand to the Bluetooth at her ear. “Mr. Capo, I have Birdie Harris here.” Immediately, she looks away from the computer and meets my eyes. “They’ll be ready for you shortly. You can take a seat over there.” She points behind me, back through the door and across the hall to what I’m assuming is a fancy-schmancy waiting room of some sort. I haven’t encountered a place in the building that doesn’t have some sort of gilded or marble inlay, so I highly doubt I’m going to step through that door and into a room styled by the set designer for Saw. Though, I can’t say some sort of torture device wouldn’t be completely misplaced right now. I’m already doing a pretty good job of mentally waterboarding myself with worry.
I offer a little nod, keeping my twisted, sicko thoughts to myself. I doubt they’re interested in hiring a woman on the brink of a hysterical episode.
The secretary quirks a brow, and I realize, though I’ve nodded my affirmation of understanding, I’ve yet to move.
Good God, Birdie! Go sit down.
Annoyed with myself, I turn on my boots and march across the hall so violently, it’s like there’s an invisible person helping me along with a heavy hand at the nape of my neck.
When I cross into the room, a man is sitting on a swanky leather sofa with his booted feet up on the coffee table. He glances up briefly before returning his eyes to the phone in his lap. Embarrassed, I smooth my clomps instantly.
You’re a gazelle, Birdie, not a herd of buffalo, I coach. Move like it.
With his attention occupied, I survey him more closely as I move to take a seat across from him. He’s wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and his jawline would make steel beams look weak. Seriously. Confronted with an earthquake, I would seek shelter right under the eave of his jaw.
I’d love to get another peek at his eyes just to study the color, but fearing the eye contact that would require, I’m careful not to make any overt noises that might draw his attention again.
When he smirks, a devilish proposition-like smile at the screen of his phone, I don’t have to wonder anymore.
Oh no. I know exactly who this man is.
The very man Rocky warned me about and I subsequently Instagram stalked. A laundry list of different women dotted through his timeline, it confirmed everything Rocky told me and then some.
All relaxed and cool, he sits on the white leather sofa with one arm outstretched across the back. Confidence and charm ooze from every freaking cell in his body. No doubt, Andrew Watson is more than capable of commanding the attention of everyone in the room, no matter the situation.
No wonder he’s one of Hollywood’s most famous actors.
The only time I have that kind of quiet confidence is when I’m onstage, singing my songs, lost in the music I created.
Just play it cool, Birdie.
On a deep breath, I force the uncertainty and unease out of my shoulders and settle my ass into the sofa across from him. He shifts again, crossing one ankle over the other and casually adjusting the denim at his crotch.
My eyes are immediately drawn to his bulge, and thanks to Rocky’s colorful descriptions of his favorite appendage, a little penis-shaped soldier is burned in my brain. After a few seconds of imagining the shape of his helmet and intensity of his salute, I jerk my gaze away in a panic.
Jesus. As if this audition wasn’t screwing with my head enough! Now I have Saving Ryan’s Privates, a military-themed porno my head just made up starring Staff Sergeant Dick Richardson, complicating things even more!
I must make a noise I don’t realize--the sound of my saliva gurgling in my throat while I choke on it, perhaps—because Andrew looks at me with curious eyes. I try like hell to keep my calm and act like I haven’t just gone to mental war with the soldier in his pants, but there’s only so much hysteria containment my mind is capable of.
“Uh…hi,” I say, trying so dang hard not to glance back down at his crotch that I start spewing diarrhea of the mouth about goddamn military-themed movies. “I never saw A Few Good Men, but I hear Tom Cruise was good in it.” When I realize what I’ve just said makes absolutely no sense to him—punctuated perfectly by his eyebrows drawing together noticeably—the gurgling saliva turns into a full-blown choke, and suddenly, the only way to breathe is through a hacking cough.
Holy shit, I’m too anxious to be around other humans right now! Also, I’m going to kill Rocky for putting this crap in my head about this guy’s penis.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I hold up my hand in some kind of gesture. I’m not sure of its technical name, but its meaning is clear--please forget I exist right now.
He asks me once more, but I nod, and once the embarrassing coughing fit passes, I meet his piercingly gray-blue eyes—seeing their color is strikingly unavoidable now—and I offer a halfhearted smile.
“Sorry,” I apologize. I didn’t mean to drag him into an impromptu SNL sketch where I choke on spit and say ridiculously inappropriate, off-the-wall things. “I guess you could say I’m a little nervous.”
His responding smile gleams so bright, I have to wonder if he has an endorsement deal with Crest toothpaste. His mouth would make a dental hygienist get on their hands and knees and thank the Lord above.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. There’s no need to be nervous around me,” he responds, punctuating his words with a wink.
If my mind were a screenplay, the nerves would be exiting stage left.
Did he seriously just wink at me after assuming that I’m nervous to be in his presence?
Surely, I’m hearing this wrong. No one is that obsessed with themselves…right?
“Excuse me?” I ask, and his megawatt smile is still ever-present.
“If you’d like me to sign an autograph or take a selfie with you,” he enunciates slowly, as if my being able to understand him clearly was the problem. “I can probably sneak that in before I have to head in there.”
His autograph? You have got to be kidding me. He sure is a cocky bastard—and for the first time today, I’m not even talking about his dick.
Like the tip of a match being swiped across the edge of a matchbook, aggravation bursts into my veins.
“I’m here for an audition,” I assert.
Unfazed, he quirks a brow as if to say, my invitation for an autograph still stands.
Attractive or not, this guy is one of the biggest asses I’ve ever been around.
“I’m Birdie Harris. I’m auditioning for the role of Arizona Lee.”
And I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna land this acting gig just to spite this prick.
About Max Monroe
A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
Connect with Max Monroe
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BLAZE (Virtues & Lies #3) by Alexandra Silva
Release Date: July 27th
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53622037-tba
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Burn, Book #1 is FREE TODAY ONLY!
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Scorch, Book #2
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Some people come into our lives.
Some get ripped away from us. Others keep you
He pushed me away until that night.
The streets bled. The dark lingered.
And he came for me.
My dark prince. Blazing assassin.
All the barriers dropped, and he was mine.
One night. One breath. One heartbeat.
Now we’re running for our lives. Friends and
foes at our heels. But I’m not a runner.
I’m not a princess or a queen.
If you touch what’s mine...
And I’m coming for you.
About the Author:
Alexandra Silva is a lover of words and romance. She blames the classics and a nutty English teacher for her obsession with books and fiction. Come rain or shine with either coffee or wine in hand you can find her with her nose stuck in a book and her head in the clouds. She lives in London outnumbered by her very loud boys, with her very own hero and their two wild cats—Jack and Jill.
Title: Love in Motion
Author: Angela K. Parker
Genre: Contemporary/NA Romance
Release Date: July 14, 2020
The thing about love…
It’s kind & beautiful, soft & hard, forgiving & emotional, but love can also be blind. Love can twist and turn you into someone unrecognizable.
That’s the way it was for Josie and me. She became my everything. I fell heart over mind, allowing her to take the only thing that I could call my own. The life I envisioned for us was blurred by secrets, hard to overcome. She made me question whether what we had was based on truth or a lie.
Dalton was an obstacle in the way of what I’d always shied away from, and the only way to reach my end was through him. So, I made a choice to get close to him, even when I shouldn’t have. We were never meant to be what we became. I didn’t intend for something forced to turn into something real. In the end, Dalton was so much more than just a means to an end. He held the key to everything, including my heart. It was his to have, to hold, to break, and to mend.
That’s the thing about love…
It can’t be forced. It just happens, and once it’s in motion, it’s impossible to stop.
Wendy’s Book Blog - “Engaging tale!!” Goodreads Review - “Amazing read! I feel like Angela Parker's books are getting better each time i read a new one.” Goodreads Review - “I was so engrossed in this story that was so well written with characters that were so well detailed that as I turned each and every page I felt like Joselyn and Dalton pulled me right into their story as it unfolded!”
Angela K. Parker is a country girl with a big heart. She's a South Carolina native with a passion for writing, reading, music, & math. When she’s not engaged in any of the above, she’s spending time with her family or catching up on the latest movies. She’s always had a very active imagination. Now she’s putting it to good use.
Between the Pages
They stepped out into challenging weather — the rain had picked up in intensity while they were dining, coupled with a buffeting wind that made even walking a few hundred yards unpleasant work. Eric was holding her close, and mellowed by the food, the drink, the music, Emmy leaned into his body, instinctively seeking the warmth radiating from him.
“This time, I’m not letting you go home alone in this godawful weather,” he said, steering her towards the car that pulled over at their level.
Emmy would’ve resisted, but her body betrayed her, too happy to spend longer wrapped in his warmth and to escape being lashed by the wind and drenched by the rain. The car was warm and spacious, its leather seats comfortable, the driver a silent presence behind a glass screen, while Eric was next to her, his arm now slipped behind her shoulder, in a loose familiar hug that neither threatened nor excluded further action.
He smelled masculine and enticing, with a hint of discreet cologne, and when she found herself inhaling deeply, he in turn pulled her in a little closer, until her head was on his shoulder and her whole body tingled with slow-burning arousal. It was both so very wrong and so perfectly right as they sped through the rain-soaked night, the city lights flickering in every puddle and wet surface they passed, the low hum of the engine lulling her into a sensual torpor.
The movement was almost imperceptible, but his hand was suddenly near her face, and his thumb brushed lightly against her full bottom lip, which sent unerring messages of lust through her body. His thumb stroked her mouth two, three times, before she parted her lips, and heard him draw a shuddering breath. Oh. Oh. He was at least as into this as her, clearly.
Next thing she knew his mouth was on hers, his hand sliding to the back of her head as he kissed her tentatively. His lips were warm, soft, and gentle on hers, the kiss light, but it set off a wave of desire rippling through her body, the strength of which shocked her. Eric was obviously holding himself in check — he was taking his time, dropping kisses from one corner of her mouth to the other, feather light touches that were unraveling her entirely. He tasted of bitter coffee and dark chocolate, and somehow these had just become the most delicious and exciting flavors in the world.
His tongue flickered out, sweeping against her lip, electric, and she couldn’t contain a whimper of raw need which in turn spurred him on, from tentative to more demanding, until she surrendered her mouth to him, and God, Eric Oswell could kiss.
He pulled her closer to him, chest to chest, her nipples erect and aching pressed against his solid frame, and she ran a hand up his shoulder and into his hair, fingertips cradling his head as the kiss deepened. His hands were stroking her neck and back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and Emmy became aware of a deep throbbing need in her that was threatening to overwhelm her sanity. She wanted more, more of his insatiable mouth, more of his agile tongue, more of the masculine scent that was invading her senses.
When he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, drawing shaky breaths as they both tried to regain control of themselves, she realized she was trembling. Also, that the car had pulled over in what, upon close inspection, turned out to be her street. Time to call it before they hit the point of no return, and no matter how desperately she wanted him to come up to her apartment, there was absolutely no way she was going to ask him.
Can’t Tie Me Down!
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