Collins Drake exercises control over all facets of his life. From his business, to satisfying his physical needs … it all happens on his command.
So when a woman shows up at his door and reminds him of a promise they made each other when they were just ten years old, it shouldn’t have the ability to rock his entire world. Yet it does. Because Mia Monroe wasn't just his childhood best friend, she wasn't just the girl he lost his virginity to and hasn't seen since, she's the one exception to his perfect control. And piece by piece, she's about to tear apart his carefully laid plans.
Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me, Resisting Her and When I Break.
She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.
I am so excited about this book by S.C. Montgomery!! Check out S.C.'s excerpt, and all the fun details about the book, and make sure you enter her fantastic giveaway!!
Blogs Taking Part in the Release Day Launch
His fear . . . Her secrets . . . Their choice.
What if the only girl you’ve ever loved lied to you?
Lied to everyone?
Those two blue lines changed everything for Reed Young and Melissa Summers. In more ways than one. And now, he must decide for himself . . .
Man up or walk away?
SC Montgomery has created an emotional tale of first love, difficult choices, and impossible secrets. A deliciously angsty debut you need to read for yourself.
***Reader Warning*** Two Blue Lines is the emotional, honest story of two teenagers whose lives are about to change forever. While not glorified, or portrayed in detail, there are themes of sexual assault and teen pregnancy, as well as allusions to teenage drinking and some foul language. It is all meant to create an honest, relevant novel, but please be aware and read only if you’re comfortable. ***Note, while this novel is a standalone that deals with mature subject matter, it may be helpful to read Lines in the Sand first to understand what makes Reed Young tick and hear about the summer that changed his life forever. Well, before this one.
We were going to be Reed and Melissa again today. Not parents-to-be. Not the kids who screwed up. Not the scared idiots who didn’t know how they were going to raise a baby.
My plan? To excavate the Melissa Summers who didn’t worry about being adopted. I wanted the girl back who loved horror movies and junk food and hot pink and koala bears and that boy band that made me gag and laughed at my dumb jokes. And who was my best friend who loved me.
Selfish, maybe. Necessary, I thought so.
I drove into the glowing horizon until we reached our destination with its signature arching sign and the slowly spinning Ferris wheel, and she sat up with a kid-like grin. “You’re kidding!”
I hopped out and rounded to open her door. “My lady.” I helped her out then whisked her against me and pressed my lips to hers, swallowing her surprised squeak. It only took her a moment to melt against me, her arms circling my neck, her fingers threading through my hair.
I tilted my head, deepening the kiss, tasting her unique sweetness, sliding my tongue along hers. She pressed against me, her little moans rippling down my flesh, riding my nerve endings like electrical shocks.
I loved this.
I loved her.
Call me a sap, but I couldn’t help myself.
S C Montgomery Bio:
SC Montgomery is a self-proclaimed nerd and readaholic. She has dabbled in telling stories since she was very young by letting her imagination play out with her Barbie dolls and her bestie many a weekend. She also writes Contemporary adult romance under the pen name Shauna Allen, and it was in one of those novels that the YA bug bit when she wrote in a teenager loosely based on her own son. Her first story, Lines in the Sand, was penned as a gift for her mother, but was published with her blessing, and it’s just taken off from there.
SC is married with three teenagers of her own, who give her plenty of inspiration and advice, and are a constant source of laughter and new terminology. Besides writing, she loves reading, movies, singing and dancing reality shows and going to the beach.
You can sign up for her newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/RLQQz
Today we are celebrating the release of HERE WITH ME, a contemporary romance title by New York Times Bestselling author Heidi McLaughlin. This is the first book in The Archer Brothers series. Be sure to check out the teasers and contest below!
HERE WITH ME Synopsis:
Ryley Clarke has grown up with the military in her blood, with both parents serving their country. Ryley knows the risks of being married to the military. But when the unthinkable happens, and her future husband is killed in action, Ryley can barely survive... until Evan's twin brother, Nate, helps her pick up the pieces.After serving on a special mission with the military for six years, Evan Archer returns home to find the unthinkable - the love of his life, Ryley Clarke - engaged to his brother, Nate. With Nate on deployment, Evan needs to figure out what happened in his absence, and more importantly, how to win Ryley back from the man he once considered his best friend, but now thinks of as his rival.
Heidi is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.
Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell and two Parakeets.
During the day Heidi is behind a desk talking about Land Use. At night, she's writing one of the many stories planned for release or sitting court-side during either daughter's basketball games.
A bombshell waitress who wants more. A former FBI agent who wants less … except for her.
Imogene Walsh has always been unapologetically confident and ruthlessly opinionated with people, particularly men. No one is spared from her unfiltered mouth, but it hasn’t seemed to deter Cooper MacKenzie. Although he is not the clean-cut, businessman type she’s always thought she should pursue, Imogene is drawn to the sexy outsider who is the hottest topic in town gossip, the fantasy heartthrob women love to speculate about.
She has spent most of her life in the little town of Hera, NY, putting her numerous forgettable relationships behind her and floundering in both her professional and personal life. Work and men—neither have gone well for her. Now it’s reached the point where she wants to stop playing it safe.
It may be time to live up to her tough reputation and take a chance on Cooper, the only man who isn’t intimidated by Imogene’s brash personality. However, it could be a thrilling ride that doesn't end well.
*This is a standalone novel in the FEARSOME Series. Excerpt 1
My single friends are getting married and
caught up in their newfound blissfully wedded lives of creating homes and being
spouses. Meanwhile, I’m being left behind.
Therefore, I did what any normal woman
would do. I grabbed the first bottle of champagne Lois had opened and got busy,
pushing that tinge of sorrow and jealousy so far down my throat all I could
feel was a complacent numbness.
Now I’m losing the cute, little runt, and
I’m lost, stuck in the maze. I stop running and put my hands on my hips as I catch
my breath while Toby’s giggles continue to grow farther away.
“Imogene,” a deep voice purrs my name,
smooth and rich like sweet liquid on his lips.
When I turn around, he smiles. Man, he is
handsome. I’ve always thought so, but tonight, the moonlight captures his tall,
lean form in an unearthly sight of mythical beauty. His shoulder-length golden
hair shines, and his gray eyes stalk me like a wild cat. Being drunk takes my
imagination to thoughts I have been dismissing for months. Inebriation is also what
makes it easy for me to walk quickly towards him and fling my arms around his
neck. Then I pull him down for the kiss I have long fantasized about.
Strong and solid, he resists my brazen
behavior before giving in and kissing me deeply. The smoothness of his
movements comes from experience and confidence and, hopefully, excitement for
One of his hands presses against my lower
back, pulling me tightly to him while the other reaches under my skirt and
firmly holds one of my butt cheeks.
I grab fistfuls of his thick hair as I
stand on tiptoes to kiss him. When we unlock our lips for air, I feel him smile
against my cheek, and then I bury my face against the warm skin of his neck.
“Imogene,” he whispers, his breath tickling
my ear and sending a shiver of tingles through me.
I close my eyes and hold on to him. “I
think I drank too much.”
“I’ve got you.”
I feel my feet leave the ground as he
lifts me up. My head is about to roll backwards before he adjusts me so my face
rests against his hard chest. My arms are still wrapped around his neck as a
sleepy contentment takes over my body. I sigh, and his chest rumbles with a
This is an unexpected turn of events, one
I don’t want to end.
“I’m not banging the Pilates instructor, by the way. I stopped seeing her a
couple of months ago.”
“Okeydokey. None of my business.” I scoot
him out of the room and then pass him to lead him out of the house.
“I thought you should know since you got
a little angry when you mentioned her,” he says softly from behind me as I jog
down the stairs to get him out the front door as quickly as possible.
“Nope. Not angry,” I reply as we reach
the first floor where I throw open the front door and walk out to the porch
with him right on my heels.
“Really? Because your body language says
“How so?” While I internally admit I
sound pissed off, I won’t say it to him.
“Obvious signs. Your lips are curled
under into a thin line, which is hard to do when you have full lips like
yours.” Before I can react to the comment about my lips, he continues, “And
your body went rigid, your arms and hands moving directly in front of your
torso, which is a defensive reaction. You scrunched your eyebrows at me, and then
your chin went out. You probably didn’t notice, but you also took one step
back, away from me, at the same time. You were showing anger and distrust
towards me. They’re little signs and they happen fast, but I’m very good at
This is such an odd conversation; I’ve
never heard Cooper talk like this. “Who are you?” My tone sounds disgusted. I
can’t seem to control myself today.
“Cooper MacKenzie,” he laughs. “I’m a
regular guy, Imogene. But when I was with the Bureau, doing undercover—NARC,
round-the-clock actor, whatever you want to call it—I could profile anyone down
to a T. Even though I’ve switched careers, profiling people, reading them, is
still a habit.”
“You’ve never told me anything about your
FBI work other than what happened with Emma’s father last year.”
“You never asked,” he says in all
seriousness this time.
“Did I do anything embarrassing besides
needing you to carry me to my bed?” I ask hesitantly, slipping my sandal off
his long finger. His hands are large, tan, and rough from working in the
factory and on that fixer-upper house of his I’ve heard about through the
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Whew, good.” I playfully swipe the back
of my hand against my forehead.
“Although, you did maul me. Of course, I
didn’t mind that one bit.” He grins, his eyes lighting up as the heat rises in
“Oh, God,” I mutter, bringing my hands
along with the smelly, dirty sandal up to cover my face.
When I peek at him over my fisted hands,
Cooper smirks. “I have to get back to work,” I say, annoyed.
“So, we’re not going to talk about what
happened?” he asks with amusement.
“No. I was drunk. It doesn’t count as
anything. But thanks for helping me, and I hope your sister likes the
His smile fades as he nods. “She will.”
He stares at me for an extra beat then
turns and makes his way back to his bike. Instead of immediately going back
inside, I stand there and watch him again because it’s just so damn easy to
watch a hunky guy stride to his Harley like he has all the time in the world.
He knows I’m watching him, too.
“And the answer is no!” he shouts as he
turns around and puts on his sunglasses.
“No, what?” I shout in return.
“After you had your tongue down my throat
and before you licked my ear, you asked if I had a tattoo on my ass.”
While, from behind me, I hear Lauren gasp,
I’m mortified again, and he’s enjoying this.
Cooper swings a long, muscular leg over
his bike and sits back into it like a seasoned pro. That confident posture is
amplified with the Harley between his legs. He’s smiling and loving the fact
that he’s shocked me.
“The answer is no,” he reiterates as he
straps on his helmet.
I stand on the porch, mute and thankful
he didn’t shout this in the diner or in some other crowded venue.
“And, Imogene,” he says. “I enjoyed it.”
Pulling me into the bright
sunshine, he takes his safety glasses and gloves off. I stand there dumbly,
watching him, thinking of something clever and possibly rude to say. However,
I’m mostly enjoying the view of how his broad chest and nicely developed biceps
fill out his T-shirt.
He quickly yanks my
glasses and gloves off and pushes me backwards against the brick wall of the
building. I’m about to reprimand him for unnecessary roughness, but then his
mouth is on mine, kissing all of the snarky sense out of me. His tongue roves
around mine like it owns me, causing a small moan of approval to escape me for
his excellent kissing skills. Without caring that we may be on exhibition to
anyone walking by, my hands slip around his waist as his hands slide up my arms
before cradling my head firmly in place for a deeper kiss.
Brushing his lips against
mine, he then lets his beard stubble caresses my cheek before his head drops
into the crook of my neck and he sighs.
He just made my day with
“Damn, you smell good,” he
says into my neck. “Like French fries.”
I pinch his side hard.
“I love French fries,” he adds,
“Stop doing this, Cooper.
I have to get back to work.” I push him off me.
“Hey, I’m just
reciprocating. You were the one who kissed me at the party.
“We both know I was very
drunk that night. I probably would have made out with any guy that crossed my
“You’re perfectly sober
now,” he retorts, holding me in place by the waist. “And we both know you
enjoyed this kiss.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d enjoy
kissing Wolverine, too, but I don’t have time for him today, either. Now let me
go,” I say as I try to wriggle from his grasp.
“Wait,” he commands. I
stop moving because my hormones are signaling my brain to listen to the sexy Viking.
“What time do you get off work?”
He drops his head down so
his nose is almost touching mine. “Imogene, answer the question.”
“I’m going back to do the
shift clean up, and then I’m heading home in about a half hour. Why?”
“Good. I’m leaving here at
four. I’m going to run home and shower, and then I’m picking you up at five and
taking you to that estate sale Archie mentioned.”
I look at him in
confusion. Since when do Cooper and I go shopping together? Since when do we do
anything together other than these two unintended make out sessions?
“Arch said they have a lot
of jewelry there, and Lauren said you two need more pieces because your
inventory is low.”
Between staring at his
eyes and his perfectly kissable lips and hearing him talk about taking me to
shop for jewelry, I’m quite dumbfounded at the moment. It takes me a few
seconds to gather my thoughts.
“Cooper, our inventory is
low for a reason. We don’t have the funds to buy the good pieces right now.”
“It’s a catch-22. Whether
you have the money or not, you need new pieces to make the jewelry, right? So,
if you don’t purchase more stock, you can’t make more things and the business
dies. So I’m taking you there to stock up.”
“Stock up? This isn’t like
buying canned goods at the grocery store. Those antique lockets and beads are
“Right. I have to get back
inside to deal with a minor problem, but be ready at five. Five o’clock. I’m
always on time, Imogene.” With that, he tweaks my chin lightly before heading
back through the side door.
What just happened? I
kissed the guy who’s the type I’m not supposed to kiss, ever again. Then I made plans with him, or rather, he made plans for me.
I head back to the diner
and finish my clean up before the night crew arrives. As I turn in my sales, I
realize the enormous tip Cooper left me is back in my apron. Somehow, the
sneaky bastard managed to slip it back in my apron pocket while we were
S. A. Wolfe lives with her family in New York City. She is a voracious reader of all types of fiction and passionate about writing. She loves connecting with readers on Facebook or email her at: email@example.com.
Welcome to the Cara Davis promo event hosted by IFB Tours. This is to celebrate the release of the first book in her YA Zombie series. Check out the excerpt and author playlist below, and enter to win awesome prizes!
Jack Sunshine’s life is chaos. She’s seventeen and the head of her household following the death of her mother and the disappearance of her stepfather. Having to balance work and home at her age gets further complicated with her forays into dating. And to top it all off, the dead are returning to life.
Jack now has the added responsibility of ensuring her family and friends are safe and sound during this outbreak. It’s almost doable until the tiny enigma of a girl named O comes along. It becomes a question of whether the sick will kill them or they’ll kill each other.
Frances Hopkins, who lived across the street from the DeCoudreauxes, stood in the doorway of the library with heaving shoulders and some kind of internalized grudge against every one of us. Her low growl reverberated, and none of us moved a millimeter as we debated the next move. Frances seemed to be calculating her next move as well, and I couldn’t help but hear Old West showdown music in my head.
“Shoot. Her.” Alexandria gritted her teeth.
“She isn’t doing anything,” Miles argued.
“Let’s just try and skirt past her,” I suggested. It couldn’t have been too difficult; she wasn’t taking up too much room in the rather large doorway.
An argument from Alexandria later and we found ourselves trying to walk past Frances without alerting her. Since it was my idea, Alexandria insisted I go first. I took Lucy’s hand and held her close to me, starting to side-step Frances while holding my breath. I covered Lucy’s eyes with one hand, her mouth with the other; she was starting to cry, and I didn’t want her to get too loud.
I tried to think of everything I possibly could aside from the situation right in front of me. It would only take about five seconds to get past her, I knew, but they would be appallingly long seconds. My grip on Lucy tightened once we found ourselves inches from Frances. I scooted as quickly as I could and was relieved that we made it out into the hallway without incident.
Summer, O and the others followed suit, each without incident, until only Alexandria remained inside the library. She locked eyes with me and I contemplated leaving her behind, given how rude she’d been to Aylen. Instead, I gave her my most reassuring smile and nod, gesturing for her to join us. Miles whispered a few words of encouragement as well, and after a few false starts, Alexandria made her move to shimmy past Frances.
She hugged the wall, her back to Frances and eyes shut tightly. Her spiked heels made the faintest scritching sounds as she shuffled. My sigh of relief at all of us passing by Frances unharmed was interrupted, as Frances whipped around with alarming speed to once again grab hold of Alexandria’s hair.
Before any of us could get close enough, Alexandria was heels over head and slammed against the ground, Frances on top of her and shredding her clothes. There was no way Miles could’ve gotten in a clear shot, both women’s limbs intertwining as Alexandria tried to fight her way out. Miles screamed to me, gesturing for me to kick while he aimed. I looked back to Frances and hesitated before steeling myself and slamming my foot as hard as I could into her face.
Cara Davis is a weirdo. She has lots of partially-written stories that one day will become actual stories. A northern-born southerner, she has the most eclectic tastes you can imagine. Most of her writing is within the paranormal realm, but occasionally she dabbles in fantasy, sci-fi, and contemporary. She has a bachelor’s degree from the University of Memphis that’s going unused.
For more than 400 years, a secret monarchy has survived and thrived within the borders of the US, hiding in plain sight as the state known as Wyoming. But when the king is shot and his seventeen-year-old son, Haakon McHale, is told he will take the throne, becoming the eleventh ruler of the Kingdom of Eurus, the community that's survived for centuries is pushed to the limit. Told through four perspectives, Court transplants us to a world that looks like ours, but isn't. Gwendolyn Rose, daughter of the Duke of Coal, is grudgingly betrothed to Haakon -- and just wants a way out. Alexander Oxendine, son of the Duke of Wind and Haakon's lifelong best friend, already grapples with external struggles when he's assigned to guard Haakon after the king dies. And commoner Mary Doyle finds whispers in the woods that may solve -- or destroy -- everything, depending on your bloodline.
Money. Love. Power. Community. What's your motivation?
Q&A with Cat:
Where did the idea came from?
After writing The Originals, I wanted to write something from multiple character perspectives. Around that time, I was thinking of my home state of Wyoming. A friend had recently driven through, and I thought about how people who aren’t from there don’t really know that much about Wyoming—it could be its own world, hiding secrets. It could be its own kingdom.
Out of all the 4 perspectives, which is the hardest to write?
Surprisingly, the boys’ voices came easiest. (And there used to be two more!) As for one POV being more difficult than the others, I think the real challenge was developing each voice individually with only a heaping handful of chapters per character.
How do you think you’ve evolved creatively?
Any craft grows with practice, and I hope that I’ve become a more controlled writer as I’ve published more books. I’m definitely more of a risk-taker than I was in the beginning, as well.
What 5 things would you like readers to know about you?
That I’m the greatest mommy in the world. (Say my children.)
I love, and am inspired by, wind.
I can kill it at Dance Central on Xbox.
I share a birthday with one of my siblings.
I once met Muhammad Ali.
Before he was the enemy, James Haakon McHale III was just a seventeen-year-old in what most people knew as the state of Wyoming, wishing he was somewhere other than the predawn forest with a rifle in his grip.
“It’s colder than moonlight on a tombstone,” Haakon muttered, blowing on his fist. His thick-soled boots swish-thumped on the hard earth as he skillfully avoided twigs, rocks, and low branches.
Alexander Oxendine—youngest son of the Duke of Wind, wide receiver, video game button masher, and Haakon’s best friend—laughed into his collar. It could’ve been mistaken for a cough.
“It’s colder than a whore’s heart,” Alexander said, his tone cautiously low. They were the youngest members of the hunting party, and were only allowed to take part because of their rank. Haakon could think of a thousand superior privileges.
He glanced around to make sure none of the other men were paying attention—especially his father. Smirking, he said, “Colder than a polar bear’s balls.”
The pair stifled laughter.
“Than a witch’s—”
“Colder than a dead woman’s touch,” Alexander said.
Haakon checked again, dialed down his voice even more, and said, “It’s colder than Gwendolyn Rose’s kiss.”
It was Haakon’s father: dictator, fun-spoiler, and—regrettably for his son—the tenth ruler of the Kingdom of Eurus, also known as the Realm, the monarchy hiding in plain sight in the depths of the Democracy known as the United States of America.
Every schoolchild knew the story. In 1670, after Joseph Dyer’s wife died in the Great Plague in London, he brought his five daughters to what would become the United States one hundred years later, seeking a better life. But it soon became apparent that his family would never thrive under strict Puritan rule in New England–which banned higher education for girls and taught submissiveness above all else, and which centered around extreme religious beliefs that were counter to Dyer’s own.
A friend, John Seymour, who was—controversially—married to a Native woman, suggested that they set out together in search of a new home deep within America’s treacherous unknown. Seymour’s wife had been attacked; her family persecuted. Seymour believed that rather than fighting the Natives, they should live in harmony with them.
Dyer, Seymour, and several other men and their families snuck away. After a long and dangerous journey, together they created their version of paradise: a kingdom that blended the best of England with Native cultures. Dyer was thought of as the Father of the Realm, and Seymour’s Native wife, who ensured their survival through tribal relations, the Mother.
Rather than cause a revolution, the founders decided to keep the kingdom secret. Inside the borders of what they’d eventually stake claim as Wyoming, they’d follow their own rules. Outsiders wouldn’t know they were different because they wouldn’t understand.
Outsiders weren’t to be trusted.
Dyer’s youngest daughter, captivated by the ancient Greek she wouldn’t have been allowed to learn in Puritan society, named the new kingdom Eurus, meaning east wind. She pronounced it “air-us.”
“But the winds here blow from the west,” Haakon had asked his father once—before Dad was King James. That was when it was okay to ask questions. When curiosity wasn’t an imposition.
“That’s right, Haakon,” his father had replied, straw between his teeth. They’d gone on a walk together. The sun was setting on an easy day. His dad had pointed toward the eastern horizon. “The wind here does primarily blow from the west, but our founders blew in from the east. That day, the wind changed directions.”
Haakon frowned away the memory of days never to return, and refocused on the trees. He walked as soundlessly as he could in his camo fleece jacket and vintage Levi’s, his rifle nestled in the crook of his left arm, a round in the chamber. He was on the left edge of the group, three rows behind his father. Evenly spaced gaps between them, the men were like migrating geese, locked in formation.
Geese hunting deer.
“Were you drinking last night?” Haakon’s father had demanded on the way to the meeting point that morning. “Is that why you’re so tired?”
“I’m tired because it’s so early that the birds aren’t even awake yet.”
“Good. Because you know what the consequences will be if you start drinking again.” They’d shared the backseat of the armored SUV; Haakon had done his best to preoccupy himself with his cell phone.
“Yes, sir, I know.”
“You need to turn that thing off before we arrive. And when’s your next haircut? You look slovenly.”
Will you just get off my back? Haakon had thought at the top of his lungs. What he’d said, though, was simply, “Yes, sir.”
There, in the forest, Haakon toyed with the idea of raising his gun and shooting King James square in the back of the head. Right there under his hat, just above the rise of his custom down hunting vest. He could do it. Even with the others present, he knew there’d be no trial, no trip to Corby. But offing his father wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it would make life a lot worse. Because with his father gone, Haakon would be in charge.
Haakon would become the King of Eurus.
The thought made him want to puke.
About Cat Patrick:
Cat Patrick is an author of books for teens. Her debut novel, FORGOTTEN (available now), is about a girl who can remember the future instead of the past, and was praised by NYT bestselling author of Thirteen Reasons Why, Jay Asher, as a "mindbending," one-sitting read. The book is being translated into 21 languages and Paramount bought the movie rights, with True Grit's Hailee Steinfeld attached to star as the main character, London Lane.
Patrick's second (unrelated) novel, REVIVED, is about a girl who's part of a secret government program to test a drug that brings people back from the dead. REVIVED will be available in the US May 2012, and in the UK and Australia Summer 2012.
Patrick lives near Seattle with her husband and twin 3-year-olds, and is afraid of zombies, planes, and zombies on planes.
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads
The worst night of my life just got worse. Nobody explained why I've been dumped in this run down house, or who this hulk with the filthy mouth is. All I know is he wants me, he says I'm his, and I'm ignoring my instinct to run like hell.
When he pulls me into his embrace, I want to push closer to his warmth, his strength, his vicious tattoos.
Can I trust him? Can I trust myself? Or will obeying his wicked words confirm all my worst suspicions?
So sweet, so pure, so confused...I almost feel bad about claiming her. Almost.
Too bad she's a Rossini, and I don't regret making her old man sign her over to me for one second. I was born a Strelkov, a killer and an outlaw, and I second guess nothing.
The instant my hands are on her, I know I've made the right choice. The crazy ache in my lips when they're not on hers doesn't lie. Revenge is a dish best served hot, sweaty, seething with passion, and Anna's tonight's special.
Yeah, she's gonna flip when I shove the wedding contract in her face. But I'm gonna make her my wife in every nasty, beautiful, permanent way I can, even if it means adding a few more scars to my skin and Anna's heart...
“Hope you get those fucking tears out of your system soon, pet. They're not gonna delay a damned thing.”
“What're you talking about? Delay what?” I snorted.
David jerked me against his chest, this time tighter. His hand rolled down my side, pressing my sweater snug. He didn't stop until his brute hand was clapped on my thigh, giving it a possessive squeeze.
Dangerous heat flooded me, rage and lust mingling in the dance I despised. It gave me my answer before he opened his mouth again.
No. Not there. Please!
“You're gonna do your fucking duties like a good wife, same as I'm gonna do mine like your lawfully wedded man. We've got certain traditions we respect around here, Anna. Shit means more to me than breathing. You'll figure that out fast.” He sighed, hissing hot, guttural desire onto my neck, stopping just short of stamping his lips to my skin. “Nothing's gonna stop me from fucking your brains out, love. Nothing. This little contract gives me all the rights and privileges a husband deserves, and I'm not taking that shit for granted. You can whine all you want, but sometime in the next twenty-four hours, I'll be balls deep inside your sweet little pussy. Then you'll understand. Once you have this dick in you, you'll never be able to imagine another, especially not one attached to some pissant who doesn't know shit about blood or sex or ink like I do.”
Shit! I stared deep into his eyes, searching, wondering if this entire thing was some sick bastard's joke.
There was amusement in his eyes, but it wasn't playful. The handsome psycho holding me was deadly serious.
I tried to keep breathing. It wasn't easy when the lust was overpowering my anger, one ruthless piece at a time with his hand so close to where I gushed and ached. I was coming unraveled right there, lusting after a man who filled my heart with total contempt.
He pulled himself away in one rough movement, sending me crumpling down again, clawing at the chair for support. I caught myself and stayed on my knees.
“I'll give you the day to get used to this house and screw your head on straight. Dry those bright eyes,” he said, stepping away and pointing his finger at me. “Tonight, babe, it's just you, me, and a bed. Welcome to your fucking honeymoon.”
About the Author
Nicole Snow is a sweet, unassuming young woman. You'd never suspect the deeply sensual, sometimes depraved fantasies raging behind her eyes.
She started writing erotica to escape the boring drudgery of a desk job. In fiction, there are no rules and no boundaries. Everything is on the table, no matter how forbidden.
Today, Nicole serves up some of the bestselling erotica and erotic romance on the shelves.