This Kiss Thursday: Rebecca Paula #TKT

tkt headerHappy This Kiss Thursday where we showcase first kisses in our favorite romance and YA novels. This week, Rebecca Paula brings us a historical lipsmack from her book A Proper Scandal.

Are you ready?


Minnie was surprised when his hand reached for hers and squeezed once, twice, and a third time, as Alex pulled her forward into absolute darkness.


She was still breathless after running through the dark streets. She felt the cold sting of the night’s air on her cheeks as he remained quiet, leading her further still. Strange noises surrounded her—wings cutting through the musty air, a building groaning from neglect, then the hopeful scratch of a match being struck.


A small ball of light illuminated Alex’s eyes as he glanced back to Minnie. His hand traveled to her wrist, his cold thumb rubbing life back into her as he traced circles over her skin. “We can stay here tonight.” His voice was craggy and uncertain. “It’s safe.”


After everything that happened, this wasn’t the end she wanted. But how could she fight it off now? Her failure was as consuming as the black cavern they were attempting to navigate.


She stumbled over something large, jerking her from Alex’s grip. Her fingers stung at the sudden disconnect. Minnie stood still, lost in the dark abyss, all alone to wallow in the numbness and shame rooting itself inside her stomach. What had she proved by running away, other than she was a foolish, stupid, reckless, girl.


“This way,” he coaxed.


Minnie shivered, taking a blind step forward. Her hand fumbled in front of her as she tumbled forward in search of Alex. He seemed so far away.


The match extinguished and that small glimpse of hope vanished. She collided into Alex’s back. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and not let go. He was the rooted tree in this raging storm. Without him, she would be ripped away, discarded and left battered. Ruined.


Though she wanted him near, she knew she needed to let him go. It was time to return to Burton Hall. The world made it clear she was no ballerina.



All Alex could do was introduce Anne to a drafty dream and try to keep her warm for the rest of the evening. He had no right looking after her when his cheating robbed them of the roof over their head. Christ, he had nearly been thrown back into the asylum, leaving her alone.


He had grown up surrounded by madness. He had lived it. But this—this foolish charade was no longer child’s play. They had gambled against Lady Luck and lost. This was restitution.


His head throbbed and the unwelcome metallic taste rose in his throat once more. This had become the only place he could feel safe since he first arrived in London. It was cold and broken, but it was all he had to offer Anne. He struck the last match, the flame flickering in the draft as he took the last steps into the darkness and beyond.


Anne drew up beside him and sucked in a breath as the moonlight flooded in through the dilapidated ceiling rafters. For once, he wished she would say something. She had been so quiet since she retrieved him from the station. Alex would do anything to know what was running through her mind.


He took a nervous swallow. “This is going to be mine.” Somehow that secret that he had kept locked away sounded possible now that he had said it aloud.


She must have thought him mad now as she took in the place—the chandelier broken in a heap before them, the curtain moth-eaten and stained, the peeling plaster, the crumbling cherub statue above the stage. His stage. The idea was madness, but he would continue to fight for it nonetheless. To have something of his own, to be able to work for something that brought others happiness, was worthy of a good fight.


She dropped her bag beside him and drifted gracefully up the aisle to the stage. She paused on the steps to search for the source of the silver light flooding her feet, finally discovering the hole in the rafters above. Her head tipped back once she reached the center of the stage. She clamped her eyes shut and lifted her arms into the air and spun, one twirl after the next.


She was beautiful spinning on stage, her eyes closed to their sad reality. Anne didn’t belong with him here in an abandoned theater, and she certainly had no place living in the street. There was magic in that girl. She did something funny to Alex. It drew him closer, always closer.


She stopped and turned her back against a silent audience. He didn’t know what to say. Finally, he settled on, “What is it?”


Anne gave a short laugh, void of feeling. “It’s been a long day.”


An uncomfortable twist happened in his chest. He had just been beaten, he was cold to the bone, yet the pain her words caused was far worse.


She turned to him suddenly, taking a small step forward as she lowered her voice. “We’re in trouble, Alex.”


That small plea was the trouble with Anne Gibbons. He was falling for the guarded girl, not the one who stole and cheated under the guise of her charms. That was a front, a grand lie, to trick the world into surrendering at her feet. He doubted Anne was even her true name.


“Nonsense.” He forced a smile of his own. She smiled for his sake, too. Alex was certain of it. “There is nothing we cannot weather.” He leaned closer, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her.


“I want pretty things again,” Anne whispered into the dark.


Alex knew better. She didn’t just long for pretty things, she aired the regrets they both harbored. He felt regret every day, and now he knew she did as well. He let out a deep sigh. “This is a very pretty ribbon.”


She was so skilled at lies, now was time for one of his own. He would lie and be strong for her if that meant shouldering the burden of their foolish follies. He had survived far worse.


Alex pulled the navy satin ribbon from her hair. “Very soft,” he murmured. His fingers brushed against her neck and they both shivered in unison. “I wonder,” he said to himself aloud. He slipped the ribbon over her eyes and tied it behind her head. “I wonder,” he whispered again, “what happens if you cannot see me?” Anne leaned back into his touch. “Do you see pretty things now?”


Her breath hitched. Anne pulled the ribbon away from her eyes with her bony fingers. “What do you want me to see?” Her voice shook.


He couldn’t tell the difference between the beating of his heart and the heavy breaths escaping Anne’s parted lips. “Whatever will make you happy.”


She smiled then, even with tears brimming in her hazel eyes. “Liar.”


Until now, he had behaved properly. Until now, he was the perfect gentleman when it came to protecting Anne Gibbons. Until now, he hadn’t thought much about kissing her…


Her cold lips pressed against his, sending an icy shock through his body, rooting Alex to the stage.


To share a kiss with her…well, it hadn’t killed him as he feared. The feel of her close was a comfort he hadn’t spent time dwelling on before. He hadn’t realized he needed it until she was there in his arms. Still he pulled away, his lips hovering above hers in fear of what would become of him if they continued.


Anne’s hand rested on his cheek as the silence beat around them. He wanted more, but the loathing had already started to mount in the pit of his stomach.


Her fingers touched his jaw in the way she explored everything in her life—with careful reverence. Her gentle touch made him believe for a small moment that miracles existed.


Her fingers slowly brought his gaze back to hers, his lips closer. She kissed him again, a quiet demand that broke through his disgust one small caress at a time, until he was kissing her back with sweet slowness.



With each breath, Anne sparked to life—her lips growing warmer under his, her skin thawing under the touch of his hands. Alex could bring her back from the brink of her melancholy. He could protect her if she allowed him to do so.


They stood onstage kissing in the dark and cold, washed in moonlight. Except it wasn’t cold anymore. Somehow, he was warm now. They weren’t penniless and hungry, either. With Anne in his arms, he thought himself rich and well-fed, kissing her beneath the warm sun.


Her hands cinched the tattered collar of his coat, her fingers darting over the edge now and then to steal a touch against his neck. Her fluttering made him want to fold himself around her and share the little warmth he could offer. His hand slid back to cradle her head, her silky hair tangled with the navy ribbon, winding around his calloused fingers in a web.


Her thin body pressed against his until her hands circled around his neck and held firm as if she were worried she would be ripped away. Anne was never one to show all of her cards, but she was doing so now. The way she touched him, the way she was leaning into him, her belief in him—wedged its way into a place he never knew he had the capacity to feel.


He failed in having winning fists, and he was a prized idiot for allowing any of this to happen. She had become skin and bones from fighting for her dream beside him in London. It made him sick with guilt. She deserved a proper meal and a warm bed. She deserved to be with people who cared for her and could show that they cared for her. Not with someone broken.


The soft sound of her quickened breath was sweet to his ears as his lips travelled from her mouth to the tip of her nose. He would erase the traces of cold that lingered behind from the freezing London streets.


Alex sighed and closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to rest against hers. Why he ever robbed himself from the luxury of her warmth he would never understand.


On a gentle exhale, her lips brushed against the tip of his nose. “Well,” she said.


Those four letters hung between them, daring him to make sense of what just happened. His mind raced ahead as the words fell at his lips, his eyes still shut tight.


“Alex?” She placed her hand over his heart.


He couldn’t breathe then. It was as if a parade marched over his chest. So instead of speaking, he wrapped his coat around her. Anne nestled against him and sighed so deeply it caused another uncomfortable fissure in his heart. The wetness of her quiet tears bled through his shirt. “Darling,” he whispered, his own voice choked. He pulled her closer and pressed a lingering kiss onto her forehead. If he could keep Anne Gibbons, he would do whatever it took to overcome his circumstances—London be warned.


Want more?

A wild spirit trapped by Victorian propriety, Minnie Ravensdale runs away from finishing school to pursue her dream of becoming a ballerina. She teams up with charming Irish pickpocket, Alex Marwick, who pretends to be her husband when they rent a room together in an East End brothel. But her new independence is threatened when Alex asks for her help in finding a mysterious society lady. Minnie knows who he seeks, but to offer up the answer would mean sacrificing her freedom and returning to her family a ruined woman.

And he has everything to gain…

Alex must find the mysterious woman who rescued him from a hellish asylum as a young boy. Without her, he is a ghost amongst the living—no identity except for the one he’s made for himself as pickpocket and card cheat. When he spots Minnie lost in the East End, he decides her social connections are the solution to discovering his true identity. But when she flees without supplying answers, Alex chases. They cause a proper scandal from the streets of London to Belle Époque Paris, as the pauper falls madly in love for the ruined lady.

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#ListifyLife: Little Things that Make Me Happy

Week three of the #listifylife challenge brings us the little things!

  • First cup of coffee in the morning
  • When my husband has the same food craving as me at the same time (it happens a lot!)
  • When the dogs are cuddly
  • Thinking about a song and then hearing it
  • Movie quotes that totally fit the situation
  • Checking something off my to-do list
  • When the chickens run to me when I go outside
  • Finding a new-to-me author to book glom
  • Clean sheets
  • Jammies still warm from the dryer
  • Needing sunglasses and actually being able to find them
  • A clean desk

5946_10207145254126975_4146799596351558321_nWhat little things make your day?


This Kiss Thursday: Jenny Holiday #tkt

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Welcome to This Kiss Thursday, our celebration of first kisses from our favorite authors. This week, we bring you an excerpt from The Engagement Game by Jenny Holiday.

Are you ready?


When Rosie unlocked her apartment and pushed the door open, she initially thought Marcus had changed his mind and not waited for her. The apartment was dark and utterly silent. Which was a little disappointing.
Which was, in turn, a little alarming.

But then, just as her eyes were adjusting to the faint light coming from the dining room, he said, “Hey.”

It was just a hey. One little syllable. But just like when he’d snuck up behind her at his office, it was a very…compelling syllable. Low and gravelly, he drew it out in a way that went straight to her core.

“How was the underage management consultant?”

She moved deeper into the apartment and set her keys on the table. He had moved a lamp from the living room and was ensconced in a circle of warm light. He wore his work clothes from earlier in the day but had lost the jacket and tie. He shot her a boyish grin, which was funny because he obviously wasn’t a boy. There was the premature gray hair to start with. He was also decidedly not a boy at work. She had only observed him in his natural habitat for a short time, but it had been enough to see that he utterly commanded the situation.

Still, there was a vulnerability about him that she caught a flash of sometimes in the rebel who had broken from his father and forged his own path.

“How old are you?” she asked, not really caring that the question was abrupt and probably borderline rude.

He didn’t seem flustered by it, though. “Forty.”

She sat down. “The management consultant was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“He was…” How to explain? “He was not forty.”

“I told you he was a kid.”

“Yeah, he kind of was. Not living in his parents’ basement or anything—not that kind of kid. He was obviously very successful professionally. But he talked a lot about bands I’d never heard of. He was a bit of a music nerd. Not that that’s a bad thing.” She shrugged. There had been nothing overtly wrong with her date, and yet…

“But he didn’t insult you like the last one. Or do anything creepy or unwelcome.”

“No, not at all,” she rushed to assure him because a fierceness had made its way into his tone. Apparently “fake fiancé” came with a dose of protectiveness. “He was very solicitous. He seemed into me, asked if he could kiss me, in fact.”

“What? Just now? Outside?”

“No. We went to a restaurant in the beaches, and he suggested a walk on the boardwalk afterward. I think he was going for the big romantic gesture because he stopped us under this tree where you could see the moon over the lake.”

Marcus shut his computer and began stacking some papers he had scattered around her table. “And?”

“It was kind of awkward, actually. The first kiss always is.”

He stood and shoved his computer into a bag. “I myself am not a fan of the grand gesture brand of first kiss. That’s not my M.O.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, following him toward the door. “You have moves!” For some reason, the idea of Marcus having a kissing philosophy, of him trying to impress a woman, surprised her. She would have thought he just had to exist for women to be interested in him. But… “I thought you didn’t do relationships.”

“I don’t. But I’m not a monk. I keep things casual, though. I just make sure everyone knows the score. And as for my so-called moves, I just think people put too much stock in the big, all-important first kiss.”

“You think so? Because—”

And then he was kissing her. Oh, God, Marcus was kissing her, his lips gentle, impossibly soft.

But then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped. Which was oddly disappointing.

But he didn’t pull away as his mouth left hers. “I’m more a fan of the low-key first kiss,” he rasped, his lips brushing over her cheek as he spoke.

She was trying to calm her out of control heart, to think what to say, when he was back, framing her face with both his hands this time, pressing his lips a little more firmly against hers, letting his tongue test their seam. She was just about to open for him when—damn him!—he pulled back again.

“Disarm,” he whispered, his lips moving against hers as he spoke. “You can talk while you’re kissing, even.” He trailed a few kisses along her jawline, saying, “Kissing doesn’t have to be such a big deal,” as he went. She was tempted to disagree, to point out that this was, in fact, a Very Big Deal, but she feared that to do so would make him stop. As each kiss deposited a tiny pinprick of electricity on its target, one part of her brain was aware that kissing the fake fiancé who didn’t do relationships was a bad idea. But the other, bigger part couldn’t remember why.

“There doesn’t need to be a big, grand lead up for a kiss to be good,” he went on, having made his way back to her lips and begun nipping the bottom one.

She kissed him this time, and just as her lips hit his, he murmured, “Exactly.” And as she twined her hands around his neck, he pulled her closer, and she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. He didn’t try to hide it, like many men would during a first kiss. He also didn’t try to rub it against her like other, creepier men would. It was just a fact between them—a very impressive fact—and the idea that it was her who’d inspired this response was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. Disarm, he’d said, but dis-knee was more like it because she had to concentrate harder than she would have liked for hers not to buckle under the assault of his mouth. His tongue was making incursions into her mouth, and one hand stroked down the side of her throat and grabbed hold of the neck of her shirt, as if he were trying to anchor her to him. It was maybe the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her, and she couldn’t contain a moan of pleasure.

But she must have been mistaken to assume the shirt-grabbing gesture had been an anchoring one, because all of a sudden, he was gone.

The kiss was over.

She wanted to howl her protest. But there was no way to do that and retain any shred of dignity.

And damn him if he didn’t then wink at her and say, “You have a letter to write, don’t you? I’ll talk to you later,” before slipping out the door.


Want More?

TheEngagementGame_JennyHoliday_low-res Amazon |B&N | kobo |Google Play | ARe | iTunes

What’s a little blackmail between friends…

The black sheep of the old-money Rosemanns, advertising executive Marcus has made his own way in the world—and done extremely well for himself—but his family is still pressuring him to join their investment firm and settle down with a quiet, unobjectionable girl.

Which is why the sexy Rose Verma is the perfect date for his family’s charity ball. A bleeding-heart lefty from the wrong side of the tracks, Rose has never met a stray dog she didn’t love or a polka-dotted mini-dress she couldn’t rock. Marcus has enough dirt on Rose to “convince” her to play along. And if he lets it slip that they’re engaged, all the better.

But all’s fair in love and blackmail, and Rose is ready to play a few cards of her own…

#ListifyLife: Books I Want to Live In

It’s the second week of the #ListifyLife Challenge.

This week: Books I want to live in

  • Born In Trilogy by Nora Roberts. I LOVE the Irish village, Kilmihil in County Clare. I want to see Maggie’s glass and eat Briana’s cooking while reading one of Grey’s thrillers in a cozy room at the inn. These are my favorite Nora books.
  • Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery. Avonlea might be a fictional community on Prince Edward Island–but after reading the books and watching the wonderful series from 1986, it feels real to me. I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
  • Spindle Cove series by Tessa Dare. Ms. Dare never ceases to charm me. I love all her books, but if I had to live somewhere, it would be Spindle Cove (aka Spinster Cove) because…Bull and Blossom!

5946_10207145254126975_4146799596351558321_nWhere would you like to live?


This Kiss Thursday: Bria Quinlan #tkt

tkt headerHappy Thursday! We celebrate first kisses this week with an excerpt from Bria Quinlan and her Young Adult book, Wreckless.

Are You Ready?


His hand brushed over my hair, the shorter strands falling through his fingers before he used it to pull my head back with a light tug.

“Bridget, the only guy you’re going to be kissing who isn’t your boyfriend is me.”

Through the fog of all the punch and wobbly-headedness, I still knew what he was saying. I heard his ticked off tone and felt the tight muscles of his shoulders under my fingertips. I wondered why. Why was he so annoyed, and why did he want to kiss me? At the same time, I heard the message loud and clear—the not your boyfriendmessage.

But mostly I didn’t care. I just wanted to skip the figuring-this-stuff-out and get to the sweet part.


Jake’s mouth came down on mine like he needed it to breathe. I pushed up on my toes, trying to get closer, trying to burrow into him. It was like every moment—even before we’d met—had led up to this one.

He pushed me against the wall, one hand sliding down my waist to my butt to pull me up closer. Closer.

His hand ran along the edge of my panties, and I didn’t bother to wonder how it had slipped under my skirt. All I knew was that if I didn’t get closer to him, I might die. Right there in the hall. Life might slip out of me and leave me limp and nothing on the floor.

I wanted to climb him to get closer to his mouth. I let one leg wrap around the back of his calf, bringing me up higher. Pulling us together, fusing us. There was nothing beyond Jake. Not that hallway, not that party, not that messed up, rebellious night of list breaking.

And, in that moment, I thought that for him there might be nothing else, either.

“Damn, Moore. Why don’t you get a room?” Jake pulled back and behind him I could see Dave. “Oh, I forgot. You already did.”

He slapped Jake on the back and disappeared into the bathroom.

Jake stared at the door and then back at me.

“That’s it.” He wrapped his hand around my wrist, dragging me back up the hall after him. “We’re getting out of here.”

I was just thinking that alone with Jake was exactly where I wanted to be when he added, “You don’t belong here, kindergarten teacher,” and pulled me up the stairs, through the crowds trying to get out of his way, and out the back door.

I had no idea what he was so angry about. Was it about me kissing him like that? I’d never kissed someone like that before…like I’d do anything to not to ever have to stop. Certainly not Tanner. Of course, Tanner had never kissed me like that, either. Compared to this, Tanner’s kisses had felt…respectful.

All I knew was that Jake had stopped kissing me, and if what he’d said before was true, there weren’t going to be any more kisses.

Just a kiss. I’d finally traded in boring and safe for drunk and stupid, and all I’d gotten was one Moore kiss.

I’m not sure if that was a win or not.


Want More?

Wreckless…Where obsession and rebellion collide.

Bridget Larson’s never met a rule she didn’t like. Drawing inside the lines isn’t just a way of life – it’s the only way she can make it through the day. And through it all her BFF Leah has stood inside those lines and weathered the unspeakable with her. Then Bridget catches her boyfriend with Leah–and the last thing on her mind is staying safe.

Salvation… A bad boy and his jacked up pickup.

Jake Moore was everything she needed and nothing he claimed to be. With one night of freedom and a spontaneously scribbled Rebellion List, Jake leads Bridget down every path she thought was forbidden… And into the one place she’d thought was lost to her forever.

Amazon   ~ BN ~ Apple ~ Kobo

#ListifyLife Spring for me is…

5946_10207145254126975_4146799596351558321_nMy friend Roni Loren organized a fun list challenge for the season. If you want to  play along, just use the hashtag #listifylife on whatever social media you use.

This week, the theme is

Spring for me is…

  • Shamrock Shakes
  • Jelly beans
  • the pop of yellow daffodils
  • the unexpected warmth of the sun on your face
  • the smell of freshly mowed grass
  • the crack of baseball bats at the park a block from my house
  • waking up with the sun

What is spring for you?


This Kiss Thursday: Alison Bliss #tkt

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Welcome to This Kiss Thursday #tkt, where we celebrate the first kiss in romance and YA stories. Something about that first one…when two characters slip on a kiss and tumble into love. Nummy.

This week, we welcome Alison Bliss and an excerpt from her contemporary novel, Playing with Fire. Enjoy!



I opened it to find Cowboy filling the space with unnerving eyes, a strange look of desperation on his face, and his mouth held in a grim, firm line. “I should keep my hands off you,” he said with a hoarseness to his voice.

“Um, okay.” Guess he was more repulsed than I thought, because he was going ahead with the insincere apology, after all. “You came back to tell me that?”

“No, I forgot something.” He sounded even more irritated than when I first opened the door.

“Oh. What’d you forget?” I started to turn to look for a set of keys or something else that could be his, but he gripped my arm to stop me.

This,” he said, spinning me back to him and covering my mouth with his.

Instantly, I froze.

Since I’d first met him, I’d always wondered what it would be like to be under that perfect mouth of his, and now that I was finding out, I stood there stupidly with my fish lips smashed against his in the most unflattering way.

But that didn’t deter him. He moved his lips slowly against mine, patiently awaiting my response. And he got one. Within seconds, my passive lips became soft and pliant against his as our mouths began a seductive dance together. His warmth tempered my body, bringing it to just the right degree, until I melted into him, my fingers gripping his shirt as I kissed him back with no physical hesitation.

Mentally, I was still hesitating, though. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered between kisses.

In answer, his hands moved into my hair, tilting my head slightly to the right, as his breath tickled across my lips. “Open your mouth and shut up,” he murmured, bringing my face back to his.

I did as he asked, and his tongue swept inside, delving deep. My good sense flew out the window. He was warm and tasted like wild honey. The insistent rolling of his tongue against mine excited me more, enticing me to participate. Feeling braver than normal, I ran mine across his bottom lip and gave him a little nip.

He stilled.

At first, I thought I’d done something wrong, but my hand resting on his chest pulsed with the acceleration of his irregular heartbeat. Keeping his lips glued to mine, Cowboy spun me around with dizzying speed and planted me firmly against the door. Before I could say anything, he hungrily kissed me. His enthusiasm grew immensely, radiating off him with each insatiable thrust of his tongue, beckoning me with every curl.

His right hand moved lower, past my hip, and cupped the back of my knee, raising it to his waist. My robe lifted higher and left me feeling a breeze in places that shouldn’t be breezy. I arched my hips forward to keep my balance, and the large bulge in his jeans rubbed against the thin fabric of my cotton panties. The delicious friction shot sparks throughout my body, and a purr-like sound rumbled from deep within my throat.

His warm fingers found their way to the back of my thigh, stroking and kneading, as he moved higher and higher. He used the position we were in as leverage to access an intimate part of me and easily slipped two fingers under my panties.

I was long gone. He could’ve taken me against the door with the neighbors watching for all I cared. But as Cowboy’s fingers met damp flesh, he hesitated, then tore himself away from me completely. I could see in his lustful eyes it had taken everything he had to do so.

“One taste,” he said, panting heavily. “That’s all I meant to take.”

Flustered, I swayed unsteadily as my breath synched to his. I had never felt so alive. “I…I’m discombobulated.”

He released a shaky breath and squinted at me in confusion. “You’re what?”


Cowboy frowned with disapproval. “What the hell does that mean?” He stared at me intently, his gaze penetrating me so deep that my thighs trembled.

“It means…” That’s when my sanity came back full force, and I realized what exactly I would have let him do to me against the door. Correction: what I wanted him to do to me against the door. No matter how good it had felt, I couldn’t believe how out of control I’d let things get. “It means you have to leave,” I said with exasperation.

“What? Why? Because you say weird shit and expect me to know what it means?”

“No, I just…need you to go,” I told him, pushing him steadily out the door. Before I lost my godforsaken mind. Again.

He let me shove him out onto the porch, but he turned and grasped the doorjamb with both hands and leaned toward me with a smirk. “Discombobulated, huh? That’s not one of those sex change operations or something, is it?”

Oh, Lord.

Without another word, I shut the door in his face.


Want More?

Title: Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)

Genre: Contemporary

Nothing ignites a fire like the perfect match…

Anna Weber is every inch the proper librarian—old-fashioned, conservatively dressed right down to her tightly clipped flaming red hair. She’s just moved to a small Texas town, and is determined to spend time with her friend before she has to disappear. Relationships aren’t easy for her. She knows too well what it means to be burned. And the last thing she ever wants to do is fall in love…

Especially not with a fireman who’s hot enough to set the entire state of Texas on fire.

Cowboy can’t resist the fiery little librarian, and he’s determined to make her his. Beneath that prim-and-proper exterior is a woman he very much wants to know—if she’d let him. She’ll test his patience. His control. Hell, his very sanity. And for the first time, Cowboy wonders if he’s found the one fire he can’t control…


Book Trailer:

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About the Author: Alison Bliss grew up in Small Town, Texas, but currently resides in the Midwest with her husband and two sons. With so much testosterone in her home, it’s no wonder she writes “girl books.” She believes the best way to know if someone is your soul mate is by canoeing with them because if you both make it back alive, it’s obviously meant to be. Alison pens the type of books she loves to read most: fun, steamy love stories with heart, heat, laughter, and usually a cowboy or two. As she calls it, “Romance…with a sense of humor.”


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Need You Tonight by Gwen Hayes: Released!

Hello Readers!

If you didn’t get the 80’s anthology I was in last month, the good news is that my story is now available all on it’s own. It’s the second book to take place in Silver Pines–but the rad part is that it takes place in 1986. Isn’t that special?

Need You Tonight bookcoverNeed You Tonight

The year is 1986. Think great big hair and a great big love…

Jacob Stone is on the run for a crime he didn’t commit, but when he’s stranded by chance with the only woman he’s ever loved, he can’t deny the need to possess her one last time. Mind, body, and soul.

Typical good girl Becky McDonald has loved bad boy Jacob since they were kids, but even as she gives in to the passion only he can ignite in her, she hides the truth. Truth that might bring him home, but bring him down.

One night of passion. One night of need. That’s all they can have, but it will never be enough.

Need You Tonight is the second book in the Silver Pines Series and takes place in 1986 before Ironwing makes it big. It was previously published in the ’80s Mix Tape Anthology.

Kindle Nook | Apple Kobo Scribd

This Kiss Thursday: Elle Kennedy

tkt headerWelcome to This Kiss Thursday where we celebrate first kisses in our favorite books. This week, amazing Elle Kennedy brings us Hannah and Garrett’s first kiss from her bestseller, The Deal.

Are You Ready?


“Tell you what, I’ll give you a free pass. If you’re too scared to kiss me, I won’t make you.”
“Scared?” I rumble. “I’m not scared, dumbass. I just don’t want to.”

Another sigh rolls out of his chest. “Then I guess we’re back to self-confidence issues. Don’t worry, there are a lot of bad kissers in this world, sweetheart. I’m sure with practice and perseverance, you’ll one day be able to—”

“Fine,” I interrupt. “Let’s do it.”

His mouth slams shut, eyes widening in surprise. Ha. So he didn’t expect me to call his bluff.

Our gazes lock in a stare-down for the ages. He’s waiting for me to back down, but I’m confident I can wait him out. Maybe it’s childish of me, but Garrett has already gotten his way about this tutoring thing. This time I want to win.

But I’ve underestimated him yet again. His gray eyes darken to smoky metallic silver, and suddenly there’s heat in his gaze. Heat, and a gleam of self-assurance, as if he’s certain I won’t go through with it.

I hear that certainty in the dismissive tone he uses when he finally speaks. “All right, show me what you’ve got then.”

I falter.

Fucking hell. He can’t be serious.

And I can’t actually be considering meeting this inane challenge. I’m not attracted to Garrett, and I don’t want to kiss him. End of story.

Except…well, it doesn’t feel like the end of anything. My body is engulfed with flames, and my hands are trembling not from nerves, but anticipation. When I picture his mouth pressed against mine, my heart races faster than a drum-and-bass track.

What the hell is the matter with me?

Garrett inches closer. Our thighs are touching now, and either I’m hallucinating it, or I can actually see his pulse throbbing in the center of his throat.

He can’t possibly want this…can he?

My palms grow damp, but I resist wiping them on the front of my leggings because I don’t want him to know how unnerved I am. I’m wholly aware of the heat radiating from his jean-clad thigh, the faint scent of his woodsy aftershave, the slight curve of his mouth as he awaits my next move…

“Come on,” he mocks. “We don’t have all night, baby.”

Now I’m bristling. Screw it. It’s just a kiss, right? I don’t even have to like it. Shutting that smart mouth of his will be reward enough.

Arching a brow, I reach up and touch his cheek.

His breath hitches.

I sweep my thumb over his jaw, stalling, waiting to see if he’ll stop me, and when he doesn’t, I slowly bring my mouth to his.

The second our lips meet, the strangest thing happens. Pulsing waves of heat unfurl inside me, starting at my mouth and then rippling down my body, tingling in the tips of my breasts before traveling even lower. He tastes like the peppermint gum he’s been chewing all night and the minty flavor suffuses my taste buds. My lips part of their own volition, and Garrett takes full advantage by sliding his tongue inside. When my tongue tangles with his, he makes a low, growling noise in the back of his throat, and the erotic sound vibrates through my body.

Immediately, I’m hit with a jolt of panic that spurs me to break the kiss.

I suck in a shaky breath. “There. How was that?” I’m trying to sound unaffected by what just happened, but the slight wobble in my voice betrays me.

Garrett’s eyes are molten. “Not sure. It wasn’t long enough for me to properly judge. I’m gonna need more to go on.”

His big hand cups my cheek.

This should be my cue to leave.

Instead, I lean in for another kiss.


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She’s about to make a deal with the college bad boy…

Hannah Wells has finally found someone who turns her on. But while she might be confident in every other area of her life, she’s carting around a full set of baggage when it comes to sex and seduction. If she wants to get her crush’s attention, she’ll have to step out of her comfort zone andmake him take notice…even if it means tutoring the annoying, childish,cocky captain of the hockey team in exchange for a pretend date.

…and it’s going to be oh so good

All Garrett Graham has ever wanted is to play professional hockey after graduation, but his plummeting GPA is threatening everything he’s worked so hard for. If helping a sarcastic brunette make another guy jealous will help him secure his position on the team, he’s all for it. But when one unexpected kiss leads to the wildest sex of both their lives, it doesn’t take long for Garrett to realize that pretend isn’t going to cut it. Now he just has to convince Hannah that the man she wants looks a lot like him. Kindle Kindle Kindle Kindle
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This Kiss Thursday: Kate Pearce #tkt

tkt headerWelcome to This Kiss Thursday, the place where we gather literary first kisses. This week, a historical from Kate Pearce called Jilted in January.

Are you ready?



“I… Thank you,” she whispered. “Yet again you have proved my true friend.” She rested her hand on his shoulder, went on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. Her lavender scent surrounded him, making it difficult to breathe let alone think.
For a moment, he just stood there like a pillar of stone, and then his arm closed around her waist, holding her still as he kissed her on the forehead. In the shadowy darkness, he could hear her shallow breathing and the irregular bump of his own heart.
“You are most welcome, Miss Leyton.” He wondered what on earth had got into him, as he didn’t want to release her. He slowly let her go and took an unsteady step backward, almost falling down the stairs.
“Wait!” She darted forward again, and his heart gave a treacherous leap of joy. “You have one of my stockings stuck to your boot.”
He managed to laugh as he awkwardly attempted to remove the infuriatingly silky, clingy thing. “Thank goodness you spotted it. I would’ve had a hard time explaining that to Mrs. Pemberley if she’d encountered me in the hallways.” He went down a few stairs and looked back up at her silhouetted in the faint light coming through from her bedchamber.
“I’ll see you at dinner, Miss Leyton.”
Then he galloped down the rest of the stairs as if the hounds of hell were after him.


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A Year Without a Duke

The duke has died. Long live the duke! The only problem is no one knows who the new Duke of Beckworth is. All of England wonders, but no one more so than the people who depend upon Beckworth for their livelihood. In 1816, a year so cold that the word “summer” is a cruel joke, that livelihood is even more uncertain. However, they are all about to find out, with the duke away, there is nothing more warming than scandal and love…

Jilted in January, book 1

Rose Leyton is stuck at the Duke of Beckworth’s country estate waiting for the return of her betrothed. If it wasn’t for the handsome assistant land agent, Mr. Colin Ford, she might believe she had ceased to exist at all. But when her intended arrives things aren’t quite how she expected.

As the youngest son of an impoverished peer, Colin is all too aware of how it feels to be ignored. His impulsive offer to save Miss Leyton from an unwanted marriage quickly becomes more serious than either of them anticipated. Can they both step out of the shadows and find a way to true independence and happiness?

When matrimonial matters don’t go quite as planned, can one jilted bride and an unlikely hero save the day?

Other books in the series:


Book 1: JILTED IN JANUARY by Kate Pearce;
Book 2: FORBIDDEN IN FEBRUARY by Suzanna Medeiros;
Book 3: SEDUCED IN SEPTEMBER by Genevieve Turner;
Book 4: AN AFFAIR IN AUTUMN by Jennifer Haymore;
Book 5: A DUKE BY DECEMBER by Sabrina Darby