Monday, September 30, 2019

Cruel Boy by Clarissa Wild




Title: Cruel Boy
Author: Clarissa Wild
Genre: Dark Bully Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Rich boys sin best.
Gossip always goes around at Falcon Elite Prep.
Everyone knows Nate Wilson, the most popular football quarterback and every girl’s crush.
But there’s more behind those drop-dead gorgeous eyes and that killer smile …
He’s a notorious heartbreaker …
And he’s got his eyes set on me.
The twisted games he plays are cruel and dangerous.
He teases and tempts me … just to ruin me.
Because I know the one thing he doesn’t want anyone to know.
A big, dirty secret …
And there’s nothing bad boys won’t do to keep a secret buried.







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Excerpt

He’s so close now, all the ridges of his abs underneath his shirt are visible, and it’s almost making me want to reach out and touch them.
Stop this, Sam. Just fucking stop it.
“You make me laugh,” he mutters, placing both hands on the windowsill behind me, caging me inside his arms once again.
Goddammit.
“You piss me off,” I reply.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he quips.
One of his hands slides from the windowsill to my hand, and I freeze. His warm hand feels like lightning shooting all over my skin as it travels up my arm.
“You should know better than to taunt me,” he says, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I like scared little girls … like you.”
His tongue dips out and grazes along the rim of my ear. A chill runs up my spine as he places his other hand on my knee. The oxygen is knocked right out of me when he slides it upward along my thigh.
“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, adding a groan that sets my body on fire. “I like that.”
His hand creeps up my red and black checkered skirt, fingers curling underneath the fabric of my panties.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why am I letting him do this? He’s the bad guy.
He groans again, tugging at the elastic to pull them down. “You’re a filthy … little … thief.”
RIP!
In one quick pull, he’s torn them straight off.
I gasp in shock as he holds my panties in his hand, wearing a victorious grin on his face.
“What the—?”
He brings them to his face and takes a whiff, a delicious moan grumbling in his throat.
“I’ll hold onto these,” he murmurs, stuffing them into his pocket.
And after a dirty look, he turns around and walks off.
“What?” I mutter, ignoring the throbbing sensation between my legs.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Consider it a down payment … I’ll give them back if you give me those pictures within a day. And if you don’t, I’ll find more creative ways to tempt you.”
So that’s what this is all about. Extortion. I should’ve known, shouldn’t have been so gullible to assume he’d ever feel something for me. Playing with lust as though it’s a goddamn tool.
I spit at him, but it lands on the floor. “You’re a disgusting piece of shit, Nate Wilson.”
He doesn’t even look at me when he says, “Believe me, I know.”
Then he closes the door on me.






Author Bio


Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of Dark Romance and Contemporary Romance novels. She is an avid reader and writer of swoony stories about dangerous men and feisty women. Her other loves include her hilarious husband, her two crazy but cute dogs, and her ninja cat that sometimes thinks he's a dog too. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, playing video games, reading tons of books, and cooking her favorite meals.

Want to get an email when my next book is released? Sign up here to receive 4 FREE short stories: http://eepurl.com/FdY71 


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Another Round by Nikki Belaire




Title: Another Round
Author: Nikki Belaire
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

She knows I would die for her. Even if her father is the one who wants me dead.

A call I don’t expect. A job I don’t want. A hassle I don’t need. I’d protected his wife a long time ago, and now the notorious mob boss wants me to keep his daughter safe. I resist the tempting and troublesome mafia princess for as long as I can, but once I take her, there’s no going back, no giving her back. She thinks what we have between us is just a fling, but I know we’re forever. Regardless of what she says or her dad orders. 

Another Round is a friends-to-lovers, older man/younger woman mafia romance and touches on sensitive topics. Reader discretion advised. No cheating or cliffhanger.







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Excerpt

I lead her to the stool where I normally serve her dinner. She climbs up and slides her pert arse across the wood. Crossing her gorgeous legs out of habit. That tempt me more than ever knowing how close I came to having some other bastard touch them.

She takes in the mess on the floor behind me. Anxiety drawing down her face as she peruses the damage. “What happened?”

My palm cups her cheek to turn her back to face me. The only thing I give a damn about is settling things between us. Setting her straight about other men. Or the lack there of going forward. “I dropped it.”

“Andy?”

Now she knows I’m the one who’s lying. Silky hair brushing across my forearm as she tilts her head in worry and disbelief. Making the cords tighten from her concern over my stuff. Over my anger. Over me.

I place my fists on each side of the counter behind her. Locking her in place. Trapping her between my arms. Applying old interrogation methods she won’t be able to fight. “Who was that guy?”

She swallows and licks her lips. Responding to the demand pulsing in my tone.

“Josh. Lauren’s engaged to his older brother Logan.”

Tension surges between us from the proximity of our bodies. From her squirming in her seat. From her looking up at me with no way out from under my gaze. “Are you going to go out with him?”

Never fucking happening but I want to know what she intends. What she mistakenly believes I’m going to allow her to get away with.

“We just met.”

I don’t fall for her dismissive tone. As if the idea is preposterous. As if she’s never considered the possibility. As if I have nothing to be concerned about. “Are you going to go out with him?”

My voice is low, hard, almost unrecognizable even to myself with a possessiveness I’ve never heard. I’ve never experienced until now.

“Lauren is trying to fix us up. A double date. She thinks–”

“What do you think?”

She shivers when I lean closer. My nose nudging her hair out of the way while my lips brush over her ear. A shuddering breath blows against my cheek and fireworks explode across my skin when her hand curls over my opposite shoulder. Steadying herself from me engulfing her.

“He’s n-nice. He’s easy to talk to.”

“Of course he is. He wants to fuck you.”

“That’s all you think I am?” My accusation enrages her, and she twists to the side, trying to face me again. Too small to be at eye level she stares up at me with all the bravado she can muster, leveling me with her disgust. Before I got sympathy and compassion. Now I get unadulterated fury. She’s pissed as hell at me. Almost as much as I am at her. “That’s all you think anyone would ever want from me?”

What she lacks in size she makes up for in rage. Shredding me to the core with the pain in her wracked body. The mafia princess in her full glory as she rolls back her shoulders and gives me a hard shove. “Get the fuck off me!”

Fuck that. My hands encircle her wrists, and I diminish my force to ensure I don’t crush the fine bones under my fingers. “I’m not finished talking to you.”

“Well I’m finished with you. I’m tired of being humiliated. Now let me go!”

The agony in her voice slices through me, and I still. Shocked by her allegation. I’m hung over and my damn head’s spinning from booze and lust, but I know I can’t be hearing her right. “I may have fucked up more times than I can count, but I know I’ve never humiliated you.”

Straining against my grip, she keeps fighting for me to release her. Which will never happen. “That’s all you ever do.”

“Trouble, you’re going to have to explain it to me because I’m totally confused.”

Misery surges in me with the loss of her gaze. Unwilling to look at me. Her shoulders drooping as much as her fire fades. “When I held your hand you couldn’t get me off of you fast enough. And when I kissed you, you rolled away. It’s embarrassing that you don’t want me.”

No one has ever been more wrong than her in this moment. “Look down.” She draws in a shaky breath from the huskiness of my voice. From the need in my eyes and my touch and my body. “Look down at my cock and see how much I want you.”

Her forehead brushes my chin, and I breathe deep, relishing the enticing scent of her flowery shampoo with the top of her head near my lips as we stare at my dick bulging in my pants of its own volition. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

“Then why do you keep rejecting me?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

Once again I fuck up and have no choice but to let her go. Instantly, her arms cross over her chest in protection of her wounded heart. She still refuses to look at me. I force her to, sliding my fingers under her chin and lifting her exquisite face to mine. “If things were different I’d make you mine.”

“I want to be yours.”

Fuck. She is killing me. “You know that can’t happen.”






Author Bio


Nikki writes contemporary romantic thrillers and admits to a weakness for bad boys, especially ones who can't live without the strong women they love. She spends more time in her characters' lives than her own. But, when she's in the real world, her passions include reading, wine appreciating, running, and spending time with her husband and daughter.


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Alma Underwood Is Not A Kleptomaniac by Lacey Dailey




Title: Alma Underwood Is Not A Kleptomaniac
Author: Lacey Dailey
Genre: Young Adult Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Alma Underwood is NOT a kleptomaniac.
But she does take things that don’t belong to her.

The best part about working as a maid in her parent’s motel is pocketing all the random objects people leave behind. From old ticket stubs to the glue that comes with a toupee, Alma has discovered it all and stored it in a tub beneath her bed.

Her greatest treasure isn’t what she found in room six at Great Lakes Motel, but it’s who she discovered in an old, abandoned train car behind her house.

His name is Rumor, and he certainly won’t fit under her bed.

After a quick scan of Rumor’s surroundings, it becomes crystal clear that he’s not just hanging out in the train car for a place to escape. He’s living in it.

With determination heavy inside her, she does the only thing that makes sense to her...
She brings him home.

Turns out, he’s looking for a treasure of his own, and who better to help him find it than her?







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Author Bio


The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book. She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning. When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can find her in the dance studio empowering young dancers and giving out tons of stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza. 

When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather. 


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Bad Apple by Gemini Jensen




Title: Bad Apple
Series: Bad Creed #1
Author: Gemini Jensen
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Bully Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2019



Blurb

Senior year is supposed to be the time of your life. Keyword: Supposed. 

But I’ve just been shipped off to a new school. Sentenced to hard time deep in the heart of Hicktown, USA. 
I left everything behind—my friends, my girl, my band, my ambitions
Besides graduating, I thought there was nothing left to strive for. 

Then, I meet her...
Pretty. Preppy. Popular. Basic. 
Most importantly, daughter of the enemy.

And now I have a new vision...
Rip away her crown. 
Knock her off her pedestal. 
Wear her down until she’s stripped bare. 
She has no idea what’s coming for her. 

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and the Creed family tree is full of bad apples. 
But me?
I’m the most rotten of them all. 







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Excerpt

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” His words come out a taut, restrained, and he stares straight into my eyes, delivering the blow. I guess I’m becoming immune to his antics, because I just nod my head, biting back the smile that desperately wishes to break free.
Maybe you do. But not nearly as much as you wish…
“And you’re still going to give me the most precious thing you’ve got right now, even knowing I’ve got no love for you? Knowing I don’t even like you, not even a little bit?”
I roll my eyes. If he’s trying to scare me away, to make me second guess myself, it’s not going to work. And if that’s the case, I think that speaks more to his own shitshow of feelings and not being able to sort through them, than anything I’ve done.
“Steph says sex angry sex is the best. I’m betting hate sex might be even better…” I shoot him a cocky smirk.
“How will you know? You have nothing to compare it to…”
“Not now, maybe. But I will one day.”






Author Bio


GEMINI JENSEN’s love for reading began at a young age, and her love for writing was born not long after she learned how to put pen to paper. When she was in 2nd or 3rd grade, she won a poetry contest for all the elementary students in her county. 

She has a passion for all things romance-related, particularly angsty, forbidden, and slow-burn romances. Taboo stories are another guilty pleasure. 

An avid reader, she’s been enjoying the romance genre much longer than she should be able to admit, stealing her mom’s books and returning them before anyone noticed they were missing. 

Born and raised in Western North Carolina, she still resides there with her family—her husband and their two kids...along with three dogs, and a rabbit named Ted Bunny. She enjoys anything related to creativity, Disney, and cooking. 


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HATING THE BOSS by Kristen Granata

Today we have the release day blitz for Hating the Boss by Kristen Granata! Check out the release festivities and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: Hating the Boss

Author: Kristen Granata

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About Hating the Boss:

One night. That’s all it was supposed to be. Imagine my surprise when Mr. Sexy in a Suit breezed through the door on the first day of school. Ladies and gentlemen, meet my new boss. Not only does he instantly recognize me, but he accuses me of stealing something valuable from him the morning I walk-of-shamed out of his apartment. When bullying me into a confession doesn’t work, he turns my life into a living nightmare – as if that will coax me into returning what I supposedly stole. But this is my school, and the only thing I’ll be returning is payback. Game. On. There’s only one problem. I wanted him before I hated him, and even now, a part of me still wants him. Somehow, through all of our fighting, through the anger and the pranks, I think I’m falling in love with the enemy.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

I’ve been out of my office for most of the day. There must be a full moon coming tonight because the kids in this school are feral. I’ve had to sign off on six conduct reports and three incident reports. At one o’clock, I fall into my comfy rolling chair behind my desk. My door is closed, and I’m hoping to catch up on e-mails and make a dent in this paperwork piled high on my desk. I place my hand on my mousepad, feeling around for the mouse. What the …? Where’s the damn mouse? I check under my desk and inside the drawers, but it doesn’t take too long for realization to set in. “Goddamnit.” I tear open the door and stomp down the hallway. Raegan’s at the whiteboard in her classroom in the middle of a math lesson. She doesn’t look surprised when I barge into her room and start searching through the drawers in her desk. She does, however, look like a cat who’s been caught with a mouthful of bird. With a bounce in her step, she waltzes over to me. “Good Afternoon, Principal Waters. Can I help you? What is it that you’re looking for?” Glancing at the class briefly, I give her a hard stare and smile. “You know exactly what I’m looking for.” “I can assure you that I don’t.” I edge closer to her, lowering my lips to her ear. Her warm, sweet scent wafts into my nostrils, and I fight the urge to run my nose along her neck. Focus, Waters. Jesus. “Give it back, or things are going to get a lot worse for you around here.” Her eyes blaze as they lock with mine. She closes the gap between us, her chest almost pressed flush against me, and she whispers, “You don’t scare me.” A shiver racks through my body. I can’t decide if I want to strangle her or fuck her right here on her desk. I’m starting to gain a better understanding of people who have a choking fetish. “Hi, Principal Waters!” Hannah’s waving at me with Joshua at her side. I clear my throat and straighten my tie. “Hi, Hannah. Hello, class. I hope you’re all having a great day full of fun and learning.” Raegan chokes back a laugh as she saunters back to the whiteboard. Laugh it up now. You won’t be laughing for much longer.

About the Author:

Kristen Granata is a teacher by day, and an (exhausted) author by night. Known for writing emotional New Adult Romance, she loves creating realistic, flawed characters who struggle through the darkest parts of life and come out stronger on the other side. Kristen is a self-proclaimed "bitter cynic trapped in a hopeless romantic's body." Her characters pack a sarcastic punch, make you laugh, make you think, make you ugly cry - and they will always live happily ever after. If you're a lover of moving, inspirational reads, Kristen's your girl. Kristen was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1986. She moved to Staten Island with her family and lived there for almost twenty years. There she attended community college and became a teacher. Despite her passion for writing, and despite her professors strongly suggesting she become a writer, she took the more sensible route (bitter cynic, remember?) After going through a difficult divorce when she was only twenty-nine, Kristen returned to writing. The raw story that poured out of her led her to publish her debut novel, Collision, in March of 2018. Soon after in August 2018, the sequel, Avoidance, was published. Her third novel, The Other Brother, released in April 2019. Kristen openly shares her mental health struggles with depression and anxiety with her Instagram following. Her message is a beacon of hope to anyone who is suffering: You are not alone. She delicately weaves this theme into her writing, and demonstrates the ability of love to heal trauma. When she's not teaching or writing, Kristen is reading, Instagramming, indulging in her messy love affair with popcorn, and annoying her wife and step-daughters by incessantly singing along to The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

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Book'em Piper by Danielle Norman




Title: Book'em Piper
Series: Iron Badges #3, Iron Orchids #10
Author: Danielle Norman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 8, 2019



Blurb

I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, an area that even the cops avoided.
The only light in my dark, was the boy next door. He was my hero.
And I was his Sunshine, at least that is what he called me.

Liam Kane wasn't just my neighbor, he was my first and only crush. 
He looked after me when I couldn't look after myself. 
When he disappeared my life returned to an endless grey. 

Now after all these years we're face to face. 
But we're standing on opposite sides of the law.    
He's a part of the Heretics MC and I'm a deputy. 

I’m all grown up and more than capable of handling myself.
But I dream about Liam’s capable hands.
Everything has changed... except my feelings for him.







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Excerpt

Chapter One


“Keep talking there, Twinkletoes, I’ll marry your dad and make you my stepchild.” I glared at three teenage girls who were destined to grow-up and be a drain on some man’s wallet as they walked past me on their way to the yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
“God, how manly.”
“I bet she’s single.”
“Hasn’t she ever heard of makeup?”
But seriously, what was up with teenagers these days? I was a fucking deputy in a fucking uniform and they still had the audacity to give me attitude. 
“If I ever say, that I want to be a cop, shoot me, will you?” One of the girls asked her friends.
“They won’t have to, I’ll do it for them,” I said in a low whisper. The entire time they were cataloging my flaws and their disdain for my job, I was straddling my sheriff’s motorcycle, while parked in a convenience store’s parking lot. The owner had been having problems with teenagers coming in after school harassing his patrons. Case and point.
A loud wolf whistle pierced the air, and I turned to find a boy hanging out of a truck. I rolled my eyes as the girls started to giggle. 
“Oh my god, Devin just whistled at you,” one of the girls said.
“I can’t believe it, does that mean he thinks I’m pretty?”
“Oh, Breezy, of course it does. You’re so pretty,” her friends reassured her.
“You really think so? I need to lose weight . . .” 
I smiled as I watched her twirl one loose strand around a finger. The only thing missing was her blowing a giant wad of bubble gum. It was all a little too cliché for me.
The boys in the truck pulled out and the girls got into their car and chased them. In their pursuit they plowed through an intersection ignoring a stop sign and cutting off several cars. 
I rolled my eyes. Fuck.
Nothing beat the feeling of twisting the throttle, the sun beating down on my back, or the vibration between my legs. Holy shit, I couldn’t believe that I just thought that, but it was true. There was just something about being on a Harley, and I was one of the lucky few who got to ride to my heart’s content since I not only rode for fun but also rode for work.
Okay, one thing beat all of that—the adrenaline rush I got every time I flipped on my lights, which I did a second before I went after the pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Some days, karma was a bitch and others she was your best friend, kind of like today. Yeah, Karma and I, we go way back.
“Well, hello, ladies, it seems that you were in a hurry.” I slightly lowered my sunglasses and smirked at three stunned teenagers. “I’m going to need to see your license and registration.”
“I can’t get a ticket; I’ll be grounded from my car.”
“You probably should have thought about that before you blew threw the stop sign and cut off those other vehicles.”
“But we came out of the parking lot and turned right. The stop sign is, like, right there, she already stopped and checked when she came out,” the blonde explained, obviously acting as the leader of the pack from the passenger seat.
“Number one, that doesn’t matter. You have to stop at every stop sign. Number two, you didn’t stop at the one in the parking lot either.”
“Just give me the ticket.” The driver turned to her friends. “I’ll just pay it before anyone knows.” 
“I’m actually writing you for two different tickets for failure to come to a complete stop as well as reckless driving since you cut off those other cars.” I glanced down at the registration I held in my hands. “Oh, this isn’t your name on the title of the car.”
“No, it’s my dad’s. He gave me the car for my birthday.”
“I’m going to have to call your parents since it is in his name.” I glanced down at her driver’s license and bit back a scoff. Breezy Kidd, yes, that was her fucking name, no shit.
“You can’t do that,” the girl in the passenger seat demanded. “This is harassment. You are harassing us.”
I leaned down so I was at eye level. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Umm, actually you do. All three of you have to hand your IDs over to me.”
The one girl in the back seat complied and passed hers forward, but the girl in the passenger seat was on my last nerve. “I don’t have it with me.”
“Here’s the issue. Your friend Breezy is eighteen and has committed enough traffic violations that I can write her up for illegal right hand turn, failure to yield right away, careless driving, illegal lane change, and reckless driving, which is criminal, requires her attendance in front of a judge, and can cause her car to be impounded. So, either you comply with the law or the law will not be in your favor.” 
Breezy jerked her head and stared at the passenger. “Hand over your license.”
“I’d listen to your friend. Because if the car is impounded, I’m going to have to call a squad car to come get you until you present your ID. We need to make sure you don’t have any warrants or that you aren’t a minor.” Finally getting through to her, she grabbed her license from her bag and handed it to me. I looked at the name. Brittany. Why wasn’t I shocked? “Now I’ll start with you, give me your parent’s phone number,” I said to the driver. She called her dad and was instantly in tears. Clearly, she knew how to play him. The girl in the back seat, Mikayla, who’d been the quietest, called her mom, had tears in her eyes, and even apologized to me . . . there was hope for the future yet. Brittany called her mom, and it was clear that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Mom, Breezey got pulled over. Some female cop.” The girl paused, and it didn’t take Neil Fucking Armstrong to figure out that they were bashing me. “Yeah, probably, she looks like she was probably checking us out. You’re right, that’s probably why she pulled us over. Okay. Love you too, bye.” 
When all three were done, I’d written Breezy a ticket with three different citations, and then I let them go. And whoever said that being cop wasn’t fun? 
It was close to quitting time, so I eased into traffic and headed back toward the stations, but before I got far, my radio crackled with an incoming a call. 
“Orange County, Commercial, Signal twenty-nine, Alpha, 441 and Waterbridge.”
I wanted to get home as much as the next person, but I was only two blocks away, and as much as I hated it, this was part of my job too. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, reference signal twenty-nine commercial alpha, I’m nearby. Assign it to me.”
“Orange County copies, seventeen thirty-three. Alarm, Hampton Storage, monitoring company has tried to get in contact with the property owner. Internal motion sensor has not been triggered.”
“Ten ninety-seven.” I stopped talking after giving dispatch the code that told them I was on scene. I dismounted my bike and checked the doors to the main building, which were all locked. I pulled a card out of my pocket and stuck it through the mail slot, proof that I was here and checked. The sign said that they closed at six PM, and since it was ten of six, my guess was that someone cut out early today. 
With nothing of note happening out front, I got back on my bike and slowly drove around toward the back. The alarm was still blaring as I rounded the corner to find the back gates wide open and two men on Harleys parked in front of a closed unit.
Even from forty yards away, I could tell that the men were wearing cuts and not just any cuts, they were members of the Heretics. Orlando had several biker gangs, many being one percenters. Most of them lived by the rule: leave us the fuck alone and we will leave you the fuck alone. But not the Heretics. Nope, they were the bullies. The I-want-to-start-a-fight-just-because-I-can type. The type of gang that will kick someone’s ass because they thought it made them look big. When they were done, their victims were seldom left breathing.
So, I stayed where I was and called into dispatch. 
“Thirteen-seventeen, ten fifty-six, Hamptons Storage on Waterbridge, signal forty-four, expedite, multiple subjects, known signal zero.” That sounded good, I needed backup because they were people who were known to be armed and dangerous. 
Retreating wasn’t an option, I was a deputy, this was my job, and the last thing I wanted was to turn my back on known killers.
At that moment, I wished for a car full of snotty teenagers over these guys, I could handle them. I said a prayer for backup to be nearby and that they would hurry, and I had just finished it about the same time the subjects turned in my direction. I could feel their eyes boring into me. Chills went down my spine, and I flipped my snap on my holster to give my fingers something to do, my heart thumping as the two riders rode over to me.
They were night and day, the one on the left looked like Hollywood’s version of scary biker dude. His cut read Sergeant at Arms, Bladder. 
Bladder
What kind of name was Bladder? He was of medium build, had a beard that could double as a rat’s nest, chains that hung from his pockets to his belt loops, and his face was . . . well . . . all I could do was hear Ham’s voice from The Sandlot. “You know, if my dog were as ugly as you, I'd shave his butt and tell him to walk backwards.”
The other guy also had a beard, but his was what they called a groomed beard—like he actually gave a damn if crumbs fell onto his face. He probably weighed two hundred pounds, and his cut read Candy. I would never understand where bikers get their names. He was on his bike, so I had to take that into account, but I would put him at least six feet.
As I continued my mental catalog, I took in his dirty-blond hair, his muscular arms. I studied the shaped of his face, sloping nose, hooded eyes, and then froze when I locked on to hazel eyes. Eyes that I still saw in my dreams. My eyes darted to his upper lip, and I caught myself before I could lean forward, not to touch him but to get a closer look at the scar there, it wasn’t as pronounced as the one Liam had when we were kids, but that was normal, scars faded over time, right?
It was as if I was eight years old again and he had been reading me Harry Potter. He’d taken me to the park and we both picked sticks to make into wands. When we got back to his house, he’d grabbed a pocketknife and had attempted to carve my name into my “wand.” When he tried to smooth the edges, he pulled back on the blade and lost control and cut his lip. He ended up getting stitches. 
It wasn’t long after that when he left during the night without saying goodbye, but I knew this was him.
“Liam?” I asked.






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AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
GOOGLE PLAY




AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS
GOOGLE PLAY







Author Bio


Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James who won’t stop calling her or asking her out. 

And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50 something mom with grown kids, she's been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and now get her kicks riding a Harley.

As far as her body, she can thank, Ben & Jerry’s for that as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.

Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly silly men).


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