Saturday, 18 February 2017
From New York Times Bestseller, Corinne Michaels, comes a new second chance standalone romance.
I spent twenty years waiting for Trent Hennington to open his eyes and see me. But it was all for nothing. He chose to keep himself guarded and let me walk away, proving that my time and efforts were wasted.
I'm done being invisible.
It's time to move on.
A single dance sets my new reality into motion, and I welcome it. After all, Cooper Townsend is perfect. He's kind, sexy, and attentive--everything a girl could want.
I thought I got it right this time.
That my heart could mend, and I would be happy.
Apparently, some things really are just too hard to walk away from.
Say I’m Yours
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Corinne Michaels is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author of The Salvation Series and Say You'll Stay. She's an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife. After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness.
Both her maternal and paternal grandmothers were librarians, which only intensified her love of reading. After years of writing short stories, she couldn't ignore the call to finish her debut novel, Beloved. Her alpha heroes are broken, beautiful, and will steal your heart.
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Wednesday, 8 February 2017
Series: Sydney Smoke Rugby #3
Author: Amy Andrews
Release Date: Jan 30, 2017
Add to TBR
Lincoln Quinn loves rugby, women, and poker. And he likes to win at all three. When his team mates bet him he can’t break through Em’s resolve, he’s more than up for the challenge. But this lady has a shoebox of stipulations before she’ll even go on a date with him, much less use that mouth for kissing instead of giving orders.
Something’s gotta give but this time Em’s not settling. And Linc’s questioning everything he ever knew about matters of the heart.
Each book in the Sydney Smoke Rugby series is a standalone, full-length story that can be enjoyed out of order.
Series Order:
Book #1 Playing By Her Rules
Book #2 Playing it Cool
Book #3 Playing the Player
Pumped to make this phone call. Pumped to hear Em say yes.
“Hi, Em Newman speaking.”
She had one of those teacher’s voices. Firm but kind, with just enough fuck-with-me-and-I’ll-send-you-to-the-principal edge to keep a guy in line. That kind of voice that had never really worked on him when he’d been in high school, but then he’d never had a teacher as sexy as Em Newman, either.
He might have turned up more often if he had.
“I think I’ve been going about this all the wrong way,” he said, picturing her sitting at her desk, her mouth pressing close to the phone receiver so she wasn’t overheard.
“I’ve been going for traditional names. But it’s not Ermintrude. Or Emma. Or Emily or Emmeline. So I’m thinking now your parents might be hippies, and it’s actually something like Ember. Or Emerald.”
There was a long pause then a deep sigh. “Why do you care?”
“I want to be able to call you by your real name.”
“Well, the kids call me Miss Newman.”
Linc chuckled. “Oh. Don’t tempt me.”
Another heavy sigh. “Are you just going to ring me every lunch hour?”
“Sure. If I have to.”
“Don’t you have...push-ups to do? Or something? Balls to kick. Tries to score?”
He grinned. “Training finishes at twelve, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to score right now.”
“Linc...” He’d have to have been deaf not to hear the exasperation in her voice. “I have papers to mark.”
“You are hell on a man’s ego, Miss Newman.” He loved the way “Miss” rolled off his tongue, and a dozen dirty thoughts about naughty teachers with crazy curls bending over to help a student with a problem, their shirts gaping to reveal pretty bras flitted through his head with a predictable effect on his dick.
Who knew teachers could be such a fucking turn-on?
Certainly not a guy who’d spent a good portion of his life avoiding them at all costs.
She snorted. “I have a feeling your ego couldn’t be brought down with an elephant gun.”
He laughed, not even bothering to try and dissuade her from the accuracy of her statement. “The Nerd Chicks are in town on Friday night.”
She didn’t say anything for a beat or two. “You know who the Nerd Chicks are?”
“I do now.”
Linc had spent a long time online last night trying to come up with something that’d blow Em’s mind. He’d finally found An Evening with the Nerd Chicks. Apparently they were three women with science backgrounds who ran a popular YouTube channel discussing all things science and had taken their show on the road.
“We should go together.”
There was another pause, but he thought he could hear her breath hitch. “Top marks for trying, Linc. But it’s sold out. It sold out in about half an hour.”
“Lucky for you I have two V.I.P. tickets.”
He definitely heard her breath this time. Hissing slowly out this time in a long exhale. “Thank you but...no.”
“No? Did I mention you get to meet them afterwards?”
A soft noise that sort of sounded like a whimper or maybe even a low growl caressed his eardrum. “I said no.”
But it was the most unconvincing no Linc had ever heard. He could practically feel her conflict. “Come on, Miss Newman,” he pressed. “Why deprive yourself?”
“Because, Linc,” she muttered, her voice terse, “afterwards I’ll probably fuck you in your ridiculously sexy car.”
Linc’s pulse spiked at her direct prediction. Even if she had sounded utterly depressed over it. He laughed. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. What if I promise to not let you fuck me in my car? Or anywhere else?”
It wasn’t going to win him the bet—but he really didn’t give a fuck anymore. Linc just really wanted to take her to the show. Because she obviously wanted to go.
She snorted. “I can be very persuasive.”
At sixteen she met a guy she knew she was going to marry and she did. They're still living out their HEA and have two new adult children who are spreading their wings and flying the coop. She loves good books, frequent travel and great booze although she'll take mediocre booze if there's nothing else.
Amy spent six years on the national executive of Romance Writers of Australia including a two year term as president and after many years of unofficial mentoring of emerging writers, now runs her own manuscript assessment business, Word Witchery, which specialises in romantic fiction. With unique insight into what makes a story that sells, Amy aims to help every manuscript shine.
She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.
Tuesday, 7 February 2017
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Love On The Malecon
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Saturday, 4 February 2017
But sometimes you’re forced to make the best of the crappy hand you’ve been dealt. I wanted to teach my daughter that. No matter what happens you face your problems head-on.
Never cower. Never give up.
Then someone took her and I had to put my faith in a system that had failed me, and my hope in a man I didn’t know.
Serve. Honor. Protect, are the only things I’ve ever cared about until her case was dropped on my desk. As we searched for her missing daughter, the last woman I thought I’d fall in love with became my reason for living.
Then the world came crashing down around us.
One secret would change everything, but I had one more hand to be dealt. And if I played my cards right, maybe, just maybe we’d get our piece of heaven.
Mick
I stand back and watch Marissa do her thing. As soon as we got back to her place, she went straight into Lori’s room. She walked around, inspecting things, checking to see if anything was out of place. I can see how much she hopes for this search to be different, for things to be out of place. Her shoulders droop in disappointment when she realizes that everything is exactly as it was the last time she checked. Watching that hope in her eyes quickly fade back to sorrow guts me.
Looking up at me with tears brimming in her eyes, she quietly says, “She hasn’t come back yet.”
“I’m going to get her back to you.” It’s not like we haven’t been trying, it’s just been one dead end after another. One minute we think we have something, only for it to turn out to be nothing. She nods her head.
“I’m going to change and then we can go,” she says as she walks past me, leaving me in the room by myself.
I walk around, taking in all the little ‘booby traps’ that she set up. The scotch tape on the drawers, the picture frames with strings attached to them, all in the hopes that she’ll come home and realize that Lori had been there. I can’t even imagine what that constant level of worry and devastation would do to me. I never really thought that I would be the kind of man who cared so much about children, but Lilah changed that for me. She really is the perfect kid.
Walking the room once more, I notice that her clothes haven’t been washed. She doesn’t want to touch anything. I’m about to sit on the bed and see if maybe there is something here that we’ve missed when she walks into the room.
“I’m ready,” she tells me, and I take in her outfit. Gone is the skirt she wore to work, and in its place are tight blue jeans that mold to her body with a bulky sweater that gathers at her waist. The look is finished with a pair of black Chucks. Her hair is tied high on her head in a ponytail, and her makeup free face makes her look like she’s a teenager herself.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I have no doubt that you can, Marissa, but now you have me to help with that. So just give me this, yeah?” The question hangs in the air for a couple of minutes before she finally gives in.
“Fine, I’ll give you this,” she says. “But you can’t scare these people off. If you go into cop mode with them, they won’t talk.”
I walk to her, grabbing her face in my hands. “We are going to get her back. I promise you.”
She nods her head as I lean down and kiss her lips. I was going for a soft kiss, but the minute she leans into me, my body takes over. One arm wraps around her waist as my mouth opens to tangle her tongue with mine. Our tongues dance together, both of us trying to get the upper hand over the other.
She pulls back from me and breathlessly says, “We should go.” She licks her lips before walking to her purse and pulling out two pictures along with her keys.
“Ready.” I follow her out the door, watching as she locks it.
We walk out of her building, and I guide her to my car with a hand on her lower back as I take in our surroundings, making sure that no one is watching us. I hate that she lives here, but I know that she isn’t going anywhere till Lori comes back. I don’t even have to ask her to know that if Lori never came back, she would stay there her whole life waiting, just in case. But I make a mental note to discuss it with her when I bring Lori back.
“I usually start at the soup kitchen down on 5th Street. If there aren’t that many people there, I go to the homeless shelter down the street before doubling back to the soup kitchen. After that, I go to the alley behind the bodega on 7th Avenue—”
The second she says it, I lose my shit.
“Are you fucking telling me that you’ve been down to pier warehouse next to the alley near the bodega? By yourself? AT NIGHT?” The thought of her down there at night by herself sends chills down my spine. Homeless men, women, and junkies gather there, many of them getting drunk or high. It’s fucking dangerous down there, even for me, and I’m a fucking cop with a weapon and experience. I get that she’s worried and feels like she has to do something, anything, to help bring her daughter home, but I am furious that she is so reckless with her safety. I need to take a few calming breaths so I don’t lash out at her.
“What if one of them saw her? What if she was there? I have to do what I have to do. If you have an issue with this, maybe you should just drop me off so I can get what I need to do done.” She continues, “You think this is the first time I’ve done this? I’ve been on these streets every day since she left. I don’t have enough energy left in me to argue with you right now. So are you driving me or not?”
I don’t answer her. I’m still deep breathing. Instead, I start making a list in my head. Change the lock on her front door, follow up on Lori’s Facebook page, and investigate all of her friends, turn her ass pink before fucking her raw. My mind lingers on that last item on my to-do list. Thoughts of her lying across my lap, her ass in the air, pink from my hand, and her drenched pussy ready and waiting for me has my cock springing to life and throbbing in my pants.
“Okay, Mick, just spit it out. What’s on your mind right now?” she asks as she turns her body in her seat toward me.
“Turn my ass pink?”
“Turn your ass pink. With you laid across my lap, I’ll use my hand to turn that perfect little ass a pretty shade of pink.” I stop at a red light and assess her. A second more and I would have missed the pink of her cheeks, the hitch of her breath, the way she pressed her legs together tight. “Right before I fuck you,” I say, and even I can hear the huskiness in my voice.
“I haven’t had sex since Lori’s dad left,” she says without meeting my eyes. My mouth hangs open as she continues, “Which was a long, long time ago.”
I don’t say anything because I hear a honk behind me. Looking up, I see that the light has changed to green.
“Just so you know, if you thought that I slept around, I don’t.” The last part is whispered softly as she turns in her seat again to stare out the window.
I pull over into an empty parking lot, reach over to unbuckle her seat belt, and pull her into my lap. “Look at me, Marissa, and hear what I’m saying. I was a dick when I first met you.”
She places her hands on my chest, her thumbs stroking it gently.
“I can’t take that back, but what I can promise is that I will always treat you with respect. I will treat you like a queen, my queen, because that is what you deserve. You deserve that and so much more.” I kiss her on the tip of her nose. “Let me in, Marissa,” I ask her quietly, holding my breath as my heart pounds so loudly, I’m certain she can hear it. “Let me in, baby, so I can do all of that for you and more.”
“Let me be there for you, Marissa. Let me hold your hand, let me hold you, let me guard the pieces of your heart till she comes back. I’ll take them, one piece at a time, until I have the whole thing.”
She doesn’t say anything else to me, just rests her cheek on my chest and nods. She pulls back and kisses me on the nose. “Can we please go and see what we can find out about my girl?” She climbs back into her seat and buckles her seat belt. “Chop chop! Let’s go, Moro!”
I let out a laugh, feeling lighter than I have in a long fucking time. I buckle my seat belt and put my car into drive, heading straight to the first stop on her list, hoping and praying that tonight is the night we get a lead.
Friday, 3 February 2017
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