Coen Walker has finally found the one girl he’s willing to trust his heart to, but everything is conspiring against them. There’s someone dangerous standing in the way of their finish line — secrets waiting to explode, and emotions are running high.
Lexi Taylor’s possessive ex boyfriend, Patrick will do everything in his power to steal his girl back. Whether she goes willingly or not. If he can’t have Lexi, no one can. Especially not Coen Walker.
This relationship in on thin ice and Coen can’t slow down or he could lose the one person who means everything to him.
Lizzie Hart Stevens is a devoted wife and mother living in beautiful Western Canada.
Her interests include writing, reading, music and tattoos. When she isn't busy trying to keep up with her kiddos, you can find her deep in her writing cave or buried in a steamy hot read. She's a sassy one, with a sexy imagination and she cannot wait to share her stories with you.
Love, truth, and pain lie buried beneath the Sunset at Lake Crane . . .
Faced with a blackmailer’s ultimatum, 19-year-old Erynn O’Neal protects her lover by disappearing from his life. Brokenhearted, she vanishes—and takes a life-altering secret with her.
Grant Alexander crossed the line when he took former student, Erynn O’Neal, as his own a mere two months after her high school graduation. Knowing the truth revealed would shred his career and reputation, he accepted the risks in exchange for the promise of a lifelong love. A heartbeat later, Erynn abandoned him without a word.
Years pass as Grant and Erynn lead separate lives–he as a reclusive author, she as an ambitious reporter. Yet, despite scarred hearts, true love lost is never forgotten, and Grant devises a way to draw Erynn back into his sphere of passion. Their aching hearts begin a tentative détente, but old jealousies flare, devastating truths come to light, and Grant and Erynn must resurrect and overcome the painful secrets of the past if they’re ever to love again.
He stood in front of his desk, tension radiating from the ri-gidity of his shoulders when he asked in a rough voice, “What’s his name?” At the change in Grant’s voice, Brewster sat up on his bed and glanced back and forth between them.
“Avery.”
“You love him?”
She turned to him, hoping he would get the point when she said, “I do.”
She saw it. The flash of hurt before he masked it. “So it’s se-rious?”
“We own a home together.”
He shook his head. “That’s not an answer.”
She held her hands up, palms out. “It’s the only one I have.”
He stalked her, a predatory gleam in his eye. She knew the look—in the right situation, that look alone could get her half-way to a mind-shattering orgasm. Something she hadn’t experi-enced since him. Talk about the wrong time to acknowledge that only he had the power to turn her inside out with pleasure, almost to the point of pain.
“And what about us?”
Her heart tumbled in her chest. She held eye contact. She needed him to understand. So that no matter how close he got, no matter what he did, she would not back down. “There is no us.”
“We kissed,” he whispered. His eyes locked on her mouth. She struggled to keep still and not squirm under his intense stare.
“You kissed me. There’s a difference.”
“You kissed me back.” He laughed without humor. “There’s something. At some point, we’ll have to address it.”
She took a deep breath and tried another tactic. “Aren’t you seeing someone? I mean, you went somewhere Saturday night, a sleepover.”
He smirked at her. “I see someone.”
“So it’s not serious?” The words were out before she thought about what she had done, and his smile grew. She’d showed an interest. She’d screwed up, and his smug expression said he was celebrating his victory.
“I don’t do serious.”
His tone invited no argument, but the reporter in her wanted to know. So did the woman. “Why?”
“I just don’t.”
It was her turn to smirk at him. “Now who’s full of it?”
“Don’t,” he bit out.
“Can’t handle it?”
With surprising speed, he spun toward her. He leaned his face within inches of hers, the muscle along his jaw jumping. “Can you, Erynn? Can you handle it?”
“Absolutely.” She stood her ground, leaning toward him with almost as much aggression as he’d leveled at her. “I don’t do serious because—” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again she saw more agony in those their depths than she thought possible. “I’ll never give another woman enough of me that she has the power to gut me when she walks away. Not. Ever. Again.”
Author Bio
Casey Hagen is a debut contemporary romance author releasing her first book, Falling in Fiji, in October. She writes her stories from the dense, green wilderness of the Delaware National Forest, Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. She’s a born and raised Vermont native with Ben & Jerry’s in her heart and real Vermont maple syrup pumping through her veins.
Over the years, Casey has dabbled in a wide variety of professions. She worked in the States Attorney’s office, created beautiful works of art as a florist, slaved to the public in retail, taught preschool (and potty trained eleven two-year-olds at the same time), and finally, she owned and operated her own residential cleaning business for over a decade. She is also the new Vice President of the Penn Jersey Women Writers Guild.
Casey is the proud mother of three girls, two of which are successful college students…yay! She resides with her youngest daughter, husband, and two cats. Her days are spent in her new office that she proudly admits they would need dynamite to blast her out of! When she’s not working she can be found chasing after her youngest with a camera (much to her youngest daughter’s embarrassment) or on the golf course with her real life hero!
Beth and David’s whirlwind romance has survived a year of long-distance dating—dodging exes, dealing with jealousy, and syncing future goals. Eager to move into the next chapter of their lives together, Beth leaves California after graduation to follow her heart, joining David in his native London.
While Beth keeps busy with her university courses, David focuses on building his music career—recording and touring with his band, Vinyl Fog. They’re young and in love with the world at their feet.
Life seems perfect.
But it doesn’t take long before a series of unforeseen events challenges them like never before. How will Beth and David cope with one battle after another, and ultimately hold each other up while life keeps trying to knock them down?
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Everything was supposed to be perfect. But I guess you can’t plan for these things.
Move forward, Beth.
I gave the textbook another chance, but after reading the same sentence five times, I closed the book and peered out the window, taking in the darkening sky.
Was this all a huge mistake? Should I have just gone with the original plan?
But then I saw him; he was about to come up the steps to the front door—my reason for living. No, it couldn’t have been a mistake. Things happened the way they were supposed to, and we would have to get through this tough time, together.
I opened the book again, wanting to look busy. The last thing I wanted was for David to continue worrying about me. More than anything, I wanted life to go back to normal, even though I knew deep-down that would probably never happen. Nobody could experience something like we did and return to a carefree existence.
Anne Carol grew up reading, writing, and listening to English rock bands—obsessing over one in particular. Continuing her fascination with rock stars, she married a bass player and they now have two sons, also budding musicians. Besides reading, writing, and music, she also loves traveling, going to dance class, watching teen dramas, and exploring social media websites. Anne lives in Northern California, where she enjoys wine and chocolate every night as she works on her next novel.
Title: That Man 1 Series: That Man #1 Author: Nelle L'Amour Genre: Romantic Comedy Release Date: April 8, 2014 Blurb
There’s a new beautiful player in town…
Blake Burns, the sexy head of SIN-TV, who goes through women like some go through water. Until he meets Jennifer McCoy, his outspoken new assistant and development executive.
Newly engaged Jennifer has no idea that her devastatingly gorgeous new boss is the man she kissed, blindfolded, in a game of Truth or Dare. That kiss, that man, that beautiful stranger she cannot forget.
Blake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss either…and he’ll do anything to win Jennifer —even if it means being a beautiful bastard and breaking all the rules.
THAT MAN is a five-part romantic comedy serial with an element of suspense. All books are available and FREE to Kindle Unlimited Subscribers.
“Mr. Burns?” A sweet voice at my doorway diverted my attention, and I looked up from my computer screen. In tandem, my eyes blinked, my body jerked, and my cock tensed. Subtly for her not to notice.
Though her neat auburn bun, prim tweed suit, and tortoiseshell glasses made her look like some bookworm who should be working at a corporate law office, I swear I’d recognize that face anywhere—with its dewy-skin complexion, delicate bone structure, and those expressive, turned-up lips. Someone pinch me. I must be dreaming. But there she was. That girl I’d kissed last night in a game of Truth of Dare. In fact, her lips were still swollen. Holy fucking shit!
“Hi, I’m Jennifer McCoy.”
It took several long moments for my brain to communicate with my mouth. I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “Please come in and take a seat.”
Unlike last night when she was blindfolded and took short hesitant steps, she strode into my office with a strong confident gait and lowered herself onto one of the two armchairs facing me. She placed her shoulder bag and briefcase on the floor next to her and crossed her shapely, long legs. I had the burning urge to uncross them.
“So, Ms. McCoy—”
“You can call me Jennifer.”
Okay, let’s start over. “So, Jen-ni-fer, you come highly recommended by my boss, Saul Bernstein.” God, I loved saying her name. It sucked the air out of my lungs.
She flashed a small smile. Two little dimples winked at her kissable lips. My cock twitched and I continued.
“However, I’m not sure why someone with a passion for children’s television would want to work for a porn channel.”
Without flinching, she held my gaze steady. “Adults are no different than children. They need to be entertained.”
That was a fact. And that’s why we referred to our network and programming as “adult entertainment.” I wasn’t done testing her. Or studying her—especially her eyes. Her blindfold had hidden them from me last night, and after she’d disappeared, I kept imagining what they looked like. I thought they might be brown or blue and deep-set. But they were wide-set and green—the greenest eyes I’d ever seen on a human being. When she blinked, it was if they were two leaves fluttering in the wind. I caught my breath.
“Well, it’s one thing to tell a producer of a cartoon that he—”
“Or she,” she interrupted.
“Or she needs to make the shaggy dog bark louder, but it’s another to tell the producer of a porn flick that his female star who’s being shagged needs to scream louder.”
“Not a problem,” she said flatly.
“Well, then, let’s pretend I’m the producer, and I’m not quite sure what you want. Can you please demonstrate?”
“Sure.” She cleared her throat and then took off her glasses, setting them on my desk. Fuck. Her eyes were beautiful.
My gaze stayed fixed on them as she flung her head back, and a look of torturous pleasure washed over her face. It was identical to the expression on her face last night as I held her head back and fucked her mouth with my tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Oh, baby, yes! Make me come! Oh God! Oh, yes, Yes, YES!” Each breathy “yes” was louder than the one before, the last one a roar so loud I thought the whole office would hear her. Holy shit. This girl was a fucking tiger. Beneath my desk, my cock was applauding. Was this how Ms. McCoy, M.A., came, or was she just a great actress? If the latter, this girl should be starring in porn flicks, not giving script notes.
“Was that loud and clear enough?” she asked matter-of-factly, staring me in the face. A slight blush colored her cheeks.
I felt heated. Flushed and flustered. And I could feel my cock uncomfortably strain against my fly. Fuck this girl. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to work with her, but I had no choice.
Collecting myself, I said, “So, I assume you’ll be able to work long hours. Be on the set if necessary to oversee a shoot. Even at wee hours in the morning.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to do a great job.”
How about a blow job? Or a hand job? I bit down on my tongue.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
She scowled at me. Damn. She was sexy when she did that.
“What kind of question is that? What does that have to do with this job?”
“I’m just curious. Is that a crime?”
“Well, it borders on sexual harassment, and the answer is yes. I have a boyfriend. In fact, a fiancé. He’s a dentist.”
Her tone was defensive. Like she was off limits. I glanced at her left hand. There was surprisingly no ring on her fourth finger. I let it go and instead handed her a thick file.
“What’s this?” She opened the file and gazed down at the stack of papers.
“Your first assignment. This file contains our latest ratings reports. I’d like you to review them and then tomorrow present a full analysis of why our daytime ratings are sagging.” I checked my agenda in Outlook. “Why don’t we say at ten a.m.?”
She closed the file and then retrieved her shoulder bag and briefcase. “I’ll get right on it,” she said, rising to her feet.
My eyes glanced down at my desk. “Don’t forget your glasses.”
She twitched an embarrassed little smile. I handed them to her and brushed my fingers against hers.
“Thanks,” she said, nervously setting them back on her face. “And thanks for hiring me. You won’t be disappointed.”
With that, she marched toward the door and disappeared. My cock flexed. I hoped she was right. The word “disappointment” didn’t exist for Blake Burns.
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Author Bio
Nelle L'Amour is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she's Hollywood royalty. She writes juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.
In addition to the Gloria’s Secret Trilogy, she is the author of the bestselling THAT MAN series, the Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire boxed set, and the highly rated Amazon bestseller, Undying Love. Unforgettable, her latest series, will be published in Fall 2015. Nelle loves to hear from her readers. Connect to her at:
I couldn't sleep last night
There were lions and bears tearing you from my side
I couldn't sleep last night
How you look like my daughter
It's burnt in my mind
And I can't feel anything the morning after you
And I can't tell anyone the morning after you
I couldn't sleep last night
You were chasing the birds till the beast caught your eye
I couldn't sleep last night
How you look like an angel
It's burnt in my mind
I can't feel anything the morning after you
I can't tell anyone the morning after you
And I hope you sleep with a merry gold
I hope you win it this time
And I pray you don't fear the animals
I'll save you, I promise this time
I couldn't sleep last night
There were lions and bears tearing you from my side
I couldn't sleep last night
How you look like my daughter
It's burned in my mind
I can't feel anything the morning after you
I would give anything
