Blog Tour – Playing His Way



Playing His Way, an all-new sexy standalone from Erika Wilde is now LIVE!









As the new owner of The Players Club, Brent “Mac” MacMillan is all about dirty sex, wicked sin and carnal pleasure . . . served up his way.  After being burned in the past, he’s always been careful to choose experienced females who enjoy submitting to his dark desires, and are willing to play by his demanding rules without expecting any emotional attachments in return.


Hiring beautiful interior designer Stephanie Randall to create fantasy bedrooms within his club is his first mistake.  She’s curious, flirtatious, and makes his blood run hotter than it ever has before.  Innocent when it comes to all the debauchery his sinful world has to offer, she wants to take a walk on the wild side . . . with him.  


His second mistake?  Saying yes.  And his third?  Falling for the one woman he knows he can never have.








Stephanie strolled toward Mac, a mischievous glimmer suddenly brightening her gorgeous blue eyes, putting him on alert.  “I’d like to attend the Masquerade party at The Players Club on Saturday, to get a better feel for the club and what other fantasy elements might work for your members.”     

He stiffened at her unexpected request.  The temptation of having her in this domain—wanting her but refusing to touch her—wasn’t something he wanted to endure.  And watching her possibly hook up with someone else, like Rick? Complete fucking agony.     

He shook his head.  “I don’t think attending the Masquerade party is necessary.  I’m sure you can come up with a few other ideas without being here when everything is in full swing, which is probably going to be more distracting, than helpful.”     

“What if I want to be here?” the little vixen proposed, her voice holding a hint of a challenge.  “You know, to mix a little business with pleasure?”     

His expression remained composed, his resolve, firm.  “I’m going to have to say no.”     

She tipped her head to the side, studying him much too astutely.  “I can always get an invitation from Jillian, you know,” she said as she came closer and closer.     

“No, you can’t,” he countered.  “I put a freeze on any new invitations until I’m done going through the current membership.”     

She laughed softly, huskily, the sound like a stroke along his cock.  Much like her hand was suddenly stroking down the length of his tie before giving it a playful tug.  “Do I make you nervous, Mac?”     

His hands curled into fists in his pockets, because it was taking extreme effort not to grasp her face in his palms and kiss that soft, plush, impudent mouth of hers—hot and hard and deep.  “Do I look like a man who’d be intimidated by any woman?” he asked, his voice surprisingly steady.     

She thought about that for a brief moment before giving her hair a subtle toss and replying.  “Intimidated, no.” Then a sexy, knowing smile curved her lips. “Nervous, definitely, because if you weren’t a little uneasy about whatever this thing is between us, you wouldn’t have an issue with me coming to the Masquerade party and being at the club.”     

“The last thing you make me feel is uneasy.”  Instead, her presence had lust pumping through him like a heady surge of adrenaline.  She was certainly testing his control.     

Her free hand came back up and splayed on his chest, the heat of her touch searing him through his dress shirt.  “If I don’t make you nervous, then prove it,” she cajoled. “Let me come to the party on Saturday. I promise not to be too shocked by what I see.”     

His jaw clenched as she met his gaze and held it, so bold and brazen when she really had no idea what she was messing with, or what he was capable of.  This woman was no shrinking violet, and she was the furthest thing from the kind of submissive, obedient female he preferred—and Jesus, Christ, his dick was hard as stone for her.  This was a woman who liked having the advantage, who enjoyed a little power play, and fuck if that didn’t make him want to pin her against the wall behind her and make it very clear who really had the upper hand between them.     

“So, what will it be, Mr. MacMillan?” she murmured huskily.  “Inviting me to the club on Saturday, or are you going to chicken out?”

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About Erika:


Erika Wilde (aka Janelle Denison) is the USA Today bestselling author of over 50 contemporary romances for multiple print publishers.


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Blog Tour w/Review – Robbie



Confessions: Robbie, an all new tantalizing contemporary MMM Romance by Ella Frank is available NOW!  


Robbie-Confessions-PRINT-FOR-WEB copy.jpeg


Relationships are complex.

Love ever-changing.

And when it comes to rules of the heart,

they were made to be broken…


That’s what Robert Antonio Bianchi was telling himself, anyway.

Otherwise, he really had no excuse for what—or who—he’d done.


No excuse, except for his lonely heart, a pitcher of margaritas, four Bitter Bitches, and the apparent need to confess all his weaknesses to the two men he knew would bring him nothing but trouble.


But trouble was nothing new.

Just ask his crazy sisters or any of his friends, and they’d be the first to tell you:

If there was a bad decision to be made, Robbie always had a knack for making it.


And thus begins the story of the priest, the princess, and the prick.












If there’s a bad decision to make, I will make it.


DRUNK-DIALING IS never a smart move. But drunk-dialing a married man? That is a monumentally stupid move.


That was the thought rolling around Robbie’s muddled brain as he stood with his best friend Elliot at the bar of CRUSH and tossed back his fourth Bitter Bitch. The conversation he was having with himself wasn’t a new one—or a welcome one, he thought as he swayed on his feet and kind of stumbled into the stool beside him. But forgetting his lonely life with alcohol and men who were all wrong for him seemed like an increasingly good way to cope tonight.


The hum and throb of the bass beat was rattling through him, but instead of feeling the pull he usually did to head out to the dance floor and have fun, tonight it seemed to be having the opposite effect. It was making him think really stupid thoughts.


“You’re so wasted, Bianchi,” Elliot said as he grabbed Robbie’s arm and guided him to the barstool. “What’s that? Your third shot? And how many margaritas did you have at dinner?”


Robbie held up two, then three fingers, and shrugged. “Who cares? Everyone had their New Year’s on Sunday. Tonight’s mine, and I want to celebrate.” “If you celebrate any more, you aren’t gonna remember your first night out of the New Year.”


“Don’t care,” Robbie said, as he waved his hand through the air with flourish and leaned a little too much into the action. Luckily, Elliot was there to prop him up. “I wanna have fun tonight. Do something I shouldn’t.”


Elliot leaned his elbows back on the bar so he was facing the dance floor and said, “Why don’t you get out there and let someone do you instead? You look gorgeous tonight, darling.”


He’s right, I do look cute, Robbie thought.


In his skinny jeans and purple V-neck tee that was practically a second skin, Robbie had gone all out with smoky eyes and a new pink shade of gloss he’d bought a couple of days ago that tasted like—mmm, strawberries. He could totally hit the dance floor, find a willing man, and let him do all kinds of things. But that seemed so boring tonight, so normal, and so not what he wanted. He wanted wild. He wanted adventure. He wanted danger. And when the two men he knew were both those things entered his mind, Robbie quickly shook his head, trying to shake them free.


Stop thinking about them, he ordered himself, but that was easier said than done. One of them was one of the sexiest men he’d ever seen, and the other the most frustrating—and what was worse was that he couldn’t have either of them even if he wanted to. What was with everyone being fucking married all of a sudden? And to each other?


But oh the dreams he’d been having lately. The three of them, all sweaty and naked; they were enough to make him want to


No, no, no. That is the worst idea you could have, Robbie told himself. Drunk or sober.








Plus, you don’t even like one of them. So stop obsessing over it.


“Earth to Robbie…” Elliot said, waving a hand, and Robbie shrugged.


“I don’t know. I’m just not in the mood.”


You’re not in the mood to grind all over a naked man? Okay, where the hell is my best friend and what did you do with him?” Elliot asked as he swept his black bangs out of his eyes.


“I don’t know.” Robbie slumped forward on the bar, dramatic as ever, and looked up at Elliot from under his lashes. “I think I’m in a state of mourning, El, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”


Elliot frowned. “Is this about Logan? I thought you were happy for him and Tate?” “I am, but— Ugh. They just got engaged, and now all of a sudden, he’s married. Married.”


“I know, babe. But you knew it was coming.”


“Doesn’t make it any easier. Knowing there are two more beautiful men off the market forever due to a ring and a piece of paper is just depressing.”


“Two more men?” Elliot said, regarding him with a suspicious eye. “Who else do you know who’s hitched?”


Julien, Robbie instantly thought, as an image of the famous chef came to mind. Julien “the Prick” Thornton. And this time, as Julien’s name ran through Robbie’s head, he made a point to roll the Jul over his tongue the way Julien had when he’d introduced himself that night at the bar. That’s right…Julien “I’m gay, gorgeous, and, oh yeah, married to your worst enemy” Thornton. He was hitched.


“No one,” Robbie said, and pouted. Then he swiveled on the stool to look out at the men gyrating all over one another. “You go and play for the both of us. I’m going to sit here and—”




“Okay that word is too big for my brain right now,” Robbie said, and winced. “Go and feel up the muscles and men for me. Someone should get some enjoyment out of them.”


Elliot pursed his lips. “I don’t know…”


“I’m just gonna sit here. Not going anywhere,” Robbie promised, crossing a finger over his chest.


“Your heart is on the other side, genius.”


Robbie switched sides and did it again. “I’m just gonna drown my sorrows so my body hurts tomorrow and will take my mind off my broken heart.”


“Aww, cheer up, Buttercup. Your Prince Charming will come to you one day soon.”


“Well, until then”—Robbie gestured for the bartender—“I’m going to drink myself into a deep slumber in the hopes that maybe he’ll come on me, or, you know, at least kiss me back to life.”


Elliot placed a hand on Robbie’s arm. “Do not go anywhere. I’ll be back for you.”


“I can’t feel my legs to move, so… I’ll stay. Like a good little boy.”


“Don’t know how good you are, but…” Elliot chuckled, then before he headed out to the dance floor, said, “Where’s your phone?”



Elliot opened the contacts and scrolled down to his name, and then set it on the bar in front of Robbie. “You need me, call. Do not leave this seat.”

Robbie touched his fingertips to his temple in a sloppy salute and then hiccupped. “Yes, sir.”


“Okay. Be back for you soon.” Elliot then turned to the bartender and said, “No more after this for him.”


When the bartender nodded, Robbie’s mouth fell open. “Hello, you’re not my mother.”


“Lucky for you. She’d be spanking your ass right now, not to mention your sisters, and I’m sure you’d much rather have that done by a man who would then pound it afterward. I’ll be back.”


Robbie dismissed Elliot with a wave of his hand, and then took great interest in scrolling up and down his list of contacts, searching for someone to occupy his time. It wasn’t until he saw Julien’s number that he realized how drunk he was, because that was the only excuse he could think of as to why he hit call.

Well that, and: If there’s a bad decision to make, I will make it.






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Confessions: Robbie (Confessions Series Book 1)Confessions: Robbie by Ella Frank
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Robbie has feelings for Julien. He is tying himself in knots over them. He hates Julien’s husband, Joel AKA “Priest”. Making sense of his feelings are causing him pain.

Julien and Joel have talked about Robbie. They have never found anyone who fills the needs they require. He is the only one to posses the qualities they have been looking for. If only they can show him they are serious, and he is very much wanted.

Every page was a revelation. There is something for everyone in this book. I loved that is had humor, heat, and hunks. Even has a cameo by a favorite character. If you enjoyed the Temptation series, you are going to love the Confessions series.

***This ARC copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.

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EllaFrank 10.32.50 AM.jpg

About Ella:


Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust and is the co-author of the fan-favorite contemporary romance, Sex Addict. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!” Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Phillips.



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Teaser – Long Shot



LONG SHOT Chapter Reveal +  Giveaway!





LONG SHOT releases so soon! Next Thursday, March 22!



Kennedy Ryan is giving away a Signed LONG SHOT Paperback + a Special Edition LONG SHOT Candle.


Enter on Kennedy’s site here:

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Think you know what it’s like being a baller’s girl?


You don’t.


My fairy tale is upside down.


A happily never after.


I kissed the prince and he turned into a fraud.


I was a fool, and his love – fool’s gold.


Now there’s a new player in the game, August West.


One of the NBA’s brightest stars.


Fine. Forbidden.


He wants me. I want him.


But my past, my fraudulent prince, just won’t let me go.





Cover Reveal – My Unexpected Love

Title: My Unexpected Love
Series: The Beaumont Series: Next Generation #2
Author: Heidi McLaughlin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 10, 2018 Cover Design: Sarah Hansen @ Okay Creations 
Ben Miller met the love of his life the day he crossed paths with Elle James in their high school cafeteria. New to Beaumont, he took a chance when he approached her. Their first encounter was everything his mother ever read to him about fairy tales. He saw the girl who would be his forever.
From the moment Elle James met Ben Miller they’ve been best friends. Everything they did, they did it together, from late night study sessions, family vacations, throwing bottles off the water tower, going to prom and finally moving to California for college.
However, after the almost tragic accident where she nearly lost her twin sister, Elle’s life hasn’t been the same, and neither has her relationship with Ben.
One fateful decision changes the scope of Ben and Elle’s relationship. For one, it means a new beginning. For the other, it means change.
Heidi is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.
Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland West/Mini Schnauzer, JiLL and her brother, Racicot.
When she’s isn’t writing one of the many stories planned for release, you’ll find her sitting court-side during either daughter’s basketball games.
Heidi’s first novel, Forever My Girl, will be in theaters on October 27, 2017, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe.


Blog Tour w/Review – Off Campus Set-Up

Title: Off-Campus Setup
Author: Maria Vickers
Genre: M/M College Romance
Release Date: March 7, 2018
Levi Cox left it all behind to go to school in California, but nothing could prepare him for what he discovers when he gets there. Between the university screwing up his living arrangements, the weird meddling old woman who runs the boarding house, and the fellow student who instantly catches his eye, life in Cali is more than he expected, and he isn’t sure he’s ready for any of it. College was supposed to be an adventure, but this might be more than Levi can handle. 
Nathan Orion wants to have fun. That’s what he lives for and it’s exactly what his college years are supposed to be about. He’s happy with living the single life and being carefree…that is until the new student at his grandmother’s boarding house crashes into his life. Now he’s been recruited to show the new guy around, and if Nathan has his way, it won’t be just on-campus.
Will there be more, or is this only an illusion? Two men thrown together, not expecting anything, but possibly finding so much more than an off-campus setup.

“This book was very enjoyable!” – Under Covers Book Blog


“Such a fantastic book!” – Goodreads Review


“If you love M/M stories, you will love this one.” – Cranky – The Book Curmudgeon 

I remembered everything very clearly. The first time we met, our first kiss, the first time we were discovered in the same bed by a nosey grandmother with bright yellow hair, and then the fallout when I realized everything was nothing more than a wishful fantasy that was never supposed to come true. 
And now I as scanned this room to make sure nothing got left behind, I realized how much I’d changed and how far I’d come. My imaginary world exploded, leaving me shell shocked and pissed off. 
This wasn’t the first time I’d fallen prey to feelings, wasn’t the first time I’d been hurt, but it would be the last. 
I took a step out of the room and closed the door behind me. This part of my life was now over, and a new one had just begun. 
Life as I knew it had disappeared. Poof. Gone without a trace. And any other of those sayings people tended to overuse. 
It was my own fault really. I should have expected it, should have seen it coming, but I hadn’t. And now everything had changed. Good or bad. I didn’t know yet. Should I be thanking her or blaming her? Both maybe? 
As I closed the door on the small space I’d called my bedroom for the past few years, I realized for the first time I didn’t know what I was going to do or what would happen tomorrow…and oddly enough, that thrilled me.

Off-Campus SetupOff-Campus Setup by Maria Vickers
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Levi is finally getting to pursue his dream. He has arrived at college with a plan. Until he finds he may not be able to live where he thought. Now he has to hurry or go back home.

Nathan knows it is time to grow up. He has not looked forward to living the life his parents have chosen. He wants to choose his future. When he and Levi crash into one another it is a jaw dropping, eye opener. Will the secrets come out and change the course?

Sweet and tender, this story starts out slow and picks up steam. These characters are learning to become the young adults they know they can be. What they find is they can be stronger as a team. Navigating emotions are always hard, it helps to have someone in your corner.

***This early copy was given in exchange for an honest review.

View all my reviews


Maria Vickers currently lives in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing and after she became disabled in 2010, she decided to use writing as her escape. She believes that life is about what you make of it. You have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.
From a young age, she has always loved books and even dreamed of being an author when she was younger. Growing up in the Navy, she used to weave tales for her siblings and her friends about anything and everything. And when she wasn’t creating her own stories, she had a book in her hand. They transported her to another world. She hopes that with her books, her readers have the same experience and that they can relate to her characters. 
Getting sick changed her life forever, but it also opened doors for her that she thought would always be out of reach.



Blog Tour w/Review – Fireball





He’s infuriating…


Dempsey Jones has been a nuisance my entire life, the straight-laced Boy Scout grown up to be a firefighter, of all things. He was the one helping kittens out of trees and old ladies cross the road while I was lighting cherry bombs with my best friend in abandoned buildings, and now that we’re all grown up—even if my Dad doesn’t agree—he’s still just as annoying. 


She’s impossible…


Taite Ridley has been a constant my whole life, the curly haired mischievous daughter of the police chief, charming and devious and alluring. She was wild in ways I never dared to be and too big for our little town. But she’s here, a small town cop, and I can’t avoid her, even if I wanted to. 


And I don’t want to. 


It’s like mixing fire and gasoline and when these two collide, someone is gonna get burned…


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FIREBALL by Nazarea Andrews is now live and just 99 cents for a few days only!

Fireball (River Street Bar, #1)Fireball by Nazarea Andrews
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Taite and Dempsey have known each other since they were children. Been friends and enemies alike. The new dynamic between them has been leaving them both unsettled.

Dempsey wants to try for a future with Taite. He knows that the animosity she shows toward him and the fire department is part of the job. Behind closed doors, there are secrets that may get out. Sooner or later someone in their small town will know.

This was such a great story. Kind of a slow burn, (pun not intended – but I’ll take it.) These characters are such a great balance for one another. They have a lot in common, they both have this electric attraction with such intense heat. It seemed like it was a only a matter of time for this compelling story to find them on the same page.

***This early copy was given in exchange for an honest review only.

View all my reviews

Author Bio:

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

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Cover Reveal – Trident Series

The Trident Security Series has a Steamy  new look!



Find all of Samantha’s Books on Her Amazon Page


Join Samantha and the Ladies of Lucky 13 Book Reviews and News for our March Madness Party. Samantha and many more authors sharing new covers and releases.

About the Author:

A proud member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Samantha A. Cole is a retired policewoman and former paramedic who is thrilled to add award-winning author to her list of exciting careers. She has lived her entire life in the suburbs of New York City and is looking forward to becoming a snowbird between New York and Florida someday. Her two fur-babies, Jinx and Bella, keep her company and remind their mom to take a break from writing every once in a while to go for a walk, which is the best way to deal with a stubborn case of writer’s block.

An avid reader since childhood, Samantha was often found with a book in hand and sometimes one in each. After being gifted with a stack of romance novels from her grandmother, her love affair with the genre began in her teens. Many years later, she discovered her love for writing stories was just as strong. Taking her life experiences and training, she strives to find the perfect mix of suspense and romance for her readers to enjoy.

Her standalone novel, The Friar, won the silver medal in the 2017 Readers’ Favorite Awards in the Contemporary Romance genre out of more than 1000 entries.

While the original planned stories for the Trident Security series have been completed, they have brought many opportunities for Samantha to spread her wings and bring her readers more characters and stories to love. Look for her new Trident Security Omega Team series, Doms of The Covenant Novella series, Blackhawk Security series, and more from the Malone Brothers series, in addition to several standalone projects.

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Audio Blitz – Leaning Into The Fall

TitleLeaning Into the Fall
Series: Leaning Into Stories, #2
Author: Lane Hayes
Publisher:  Self-Published
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 7 hrs and 44 mins
Genre: Romance, Erotica, Bisexual, humor, San Francisco, May to December romance

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Nick Jorgensen is a quirky genius. He’s made a fortune in the competitive high tech field with his quick mind and attention to detail. He believes in hard work and trusting his gut. And he believes in karma. It’s the only thing that makes sense. People are difficult, but numbers never lie. In the disastrous wake of a broken engagement to an investor’s daughter, Nick is more certain than ever he isn’t relationship material.
Wes Conrad owns a thriving winery in Napa Valley. The relaxed atmosphere is a welcome departure from his former career as a high-rolling businessman. Wes’s laid-back nature is laced with a fierceness that appeals to Nick. In spite of his best intention to steer clear of complications, Nick can’t fight his growing attraction to the sexy older man who seems to understand him. Even the broken parts he doesn’t get himself. However, when Wes’s past collides with Nick’s present, both men will have to have to decide if they’re ready to lean into the ultimate fall.


Listen to an audio excerpt & purchase at Audible



Meet the Author:


Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in an almost empty nest.


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Leaning Into the Fall (Leaning Into, #3)Leaning Into the Fall by Lane Hayes
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is book #3, in the Leaning Into series. This book can be read as a standalone novel. To avoid spoilers, and to better understand the series, I recommend reading it in order.

Nick is a tech genius, who tends to forget everything when he is making better things happen in the lab. For real life and relationships – he does not do so well. In the middle of a deal with a deadline, he is hoping for a miracle. Hoping he can still trust those closes to him.

Wes owns an amazing winery where Nick purchased some wine. They meet when Nick goes to the winery, and unexpectedly has the worst run of luck he has had in some time. Despite all the animosity and attraction crackling in the air, Wes does his best to be kind to Nick.

This story actually surprised me. I was not a big fan of Nick’s character after reading the first couple books int he series. His story made me understand him, and why he does what he does better. The flow and pace seem to go along well. The characters make a great couple. The narrator made some odd pronounciations that caught me off guard, but otherwise had a very pleasant voice.

***This copy was given in exchange for an honest review only.

View all my reviews






Meet the Narrator:

Nick is an award winning narrator with a fan following for his work in fiction, specifically in the romance genre. His performances in two of Amy Lane’s books, Beneath the Stain and Christmas Kitsch, made him the recipient of Sinfully M/M Book Review’s Narrator of the Year – 2015. When he’s not in the booth, Nick enjoys spending time with his wife, Jessica, and kids, (aka their beagle Frank and cat Stella), drumming in his cover band, exploring rural back roads with his wife on his motorcycle, or being enthralled in a tabletop role playing game with his friends.  



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Chapter Reveal – Seed


Today we have the chapter reveal for SEED by Cassia Leo! Check it out and pre-order your copy today!



Title: SEED

Author: Cassia Leo

Series: Evergreen Series

Release: March 16, 2018


About SEED:


The explosive continuation of the Evergreen Series from New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo.


The seeds of doubt have been planted. Two to six weeks.


That’s how long it takes, on average, to get a divorce in Oregon. With Jack convinced I betrayed him, I expect to be served divorce papers within hours of moving out. But weeks pass without word from Jack, and the papers never arrive. Though my heart isn’t ready to give up on him, I can’t shake the feeling that we may be better off apart. And Isaac is more than happy to help me move on.


But just as I begin to build some semblance of a life and career, a new and improved Jack arrives on my doorstep. Divorce papers are the furthest thing from his mind as he delivers news that both shatters me and restores my faith in the love we shared. But is it too late for us?


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Chapter Reveal



May 10, 2015


“Stay with me, baby,” I murmured as I stroked Laurel’s hand to keep her from falling asleep. “You realize our son is going to be born on a very special day.”

Her eyes rolled back in their sockets as another contraction hit. “What?” she groaned.
I had been trying to keep her mind distracted from the pain with idle conversation about the things she most liked to talk about. So far, I’d engaged her in a wide array of topics: Stoic philosophy, ridiculous names for baked goods, inappropriate wedding songs, and her favorite topic, names for baby boys.


“His birthdate is going to be May 10th, 2015. In numbers, that five, ten, fifteen.”


She managed to groan and chuckle at the same time. “You’re so American. The rest of the world would say it’s ten, five, fifteen,” she said. She breathed in and out a few times through pursed lips before she continued. “Drea would make fun of you if she heard you say that.”


“It’s a good thing Drea’s not here then.”


As soon as I said the words, I wanted to take them back. I didn’t want to bring attention to the fact that, besides Drea, Laurel’s mom also was not here.


As if on cue, Laurel asked, “Where’s my mom?”


I squeezed her soft hand, which seemed to be getting colder. “She’s stuck in traffic, baby. There’s an accident. But she’s trying to get here as soon as she can.”


I didn’t have to lie for Beth. I had to lie for Laurel. I didn’t want her to worry that her mother was abandoning her in her time of need. This was probably the most important day of Laurel’s life, and her mother couldn’t be bothered to come when called.


Beth insisted this was a private moment for Laurel and I to share. According to her, most grandmothers weren’t in the labor and delivery room to see their grandchildren born. That was the parents’ “job.” She insisted she would get here as soon as the baby was born.

The fact that Beth referred to what I was doing at this moment as a “job” only made me angrier. I wasn’t here with Laurel because it was my job to be here. I was here because I loved Laurel, and this was where she wanted me to be. If Laurel told me to leave, I’d leave. She was the one making the decisions today, not me or Beth or the fucking Dalai Lama.


The midwife came into Laurel’s room just as the baby’s heart rate monitor began to beep loudly. The swift, hollow tap of our baby’s heartbeat had slowed to a slow, muffled thump. The midwife’s black eyebrows shot up as she raced to the monitor to get a better look at the flashing red numbers.


“What’s happening?” Laurel asked, but her eyelids were only half-open as her voice trailed off. “Is the baby… Is the baby okay?”


Maisie, Laurel’s Filipino midwife, lifted the sheet covering Laurel’s legs and her dark eyes became as wide as planets.


“What is it?” I demanded as the doctor rushed in.


“Get Florence and tell the others to get the OR ready,” the doctor ordered Maisie, who quickly disappeared into the corridor.

“Dr. Eastman, what’s wrong?” I demanded.

But as my words fell like stones at our feet, Laurel’s hand went slack. Suddenly, four nurses raced into the room and shoved me aside as they locked the side rails on Laurel’s bed and systematically disconnected her from various machines.

My stomach went sour as they rushed her out of the labor and delivery room to the operating room. As I followed closely behind them, I felt as if I were having an out of body experience. I was watching these medical professionals pushing a gurney with someone else’s unconscious wife. Maybe I’d fallen asleep in the chair in Laurel’s hospital room and this was all a nightmare.

But when we arrived at the double doors to the OR, someone grabbed my arm to stop me from entering. That was when I knew this was really happening.

Before the doors swung shut, I caught a glimpse of three more nurses inside the operating room. They appeared to be hanging bags of blood on IV stands and prepping instruments.


“She’s hemorrhaging,” Dr. Eastman finally said, as I watched what was going on through the windows in the double door.


“What do you mean? How? Why?” I replied as I watched two nurses wheel Laurel’s bed into the center of the OR.


“Mr. Stratton, please look at me.”


I turned toward the doctor and the grave look in his eyes sent me into a panic. “What’s going on? Tell me what the fuck is happening to my wife!”


“Do you remember at a previous sonogram when I said we would have to do more sonograms every three days instead of every week, to keep an eye on the placenta?”
I nodded vigorously. “Just cut to the chase and tell me what the hell is happening to my wife.”


Eastman sighed. “The placenta was not over the cervix at the start of labor, but it seems the contractions have moved it down and Laurel’s losing a lot of blood. We’ll have to deliver the baby via C-section.”


I tried to follow a nurse into the OR, but Maisie and Dr. Eastman stopped me again. “I have to be in there!” I shouted.


“We need to scrub before we can enter the surgical suite,” East said. “Follow me.”


In the washroom, Eastman introduced me to the anesthesiologist, Dr. Brunei, who was already washed up as a couple of nurses helped him slip into a fresh pair of scrubs.


“Doctor, I need you to be straight with me,” I said as I set down the disposable nail brush and proceeded to rub the red Hibiclens soap all over my hands and up to my elbows. “Should I be worried?”

“Hemorrhaging in labor is not ideal, but it’s not uncommon. It’s a situation we’re always prepared for, especially with what we saw in the previous sonograms. You’re in good hands today. We’re going to deliver your baby and replace the blood your wife lost. I just need to verify that neither you nor your wife have any religious objections to receiving blood transfusion?”

I shook my head as I held my arms under the running water. I couldn’t speak. This couldn’t be happening.

When Eastman and I were gowned and gloved, we entered the surgical suite in time to see the nurses using a sheet to lift Laurel’s limp body off the hospital bed and onto the operating gurney, her arm flopped over the edge of the mattress.

Her skin was drained of the usual golden-peach glow. Her fingers were blue.

No. I shook my head, unwilling to accept what I was seeing.


“Mr. Stratton?”


I turned my head to the right and found four-foot-eleven Maisie staring up at me.


“You’re very pale, Mr. Stratton. You should sit,” she said, motioning to a chair on the other side of the room, closer to Laurel.


I nodded as I trailed behind her like a lost puppy. “Thank you,” I muttered, but I didn’t take a seat. I couldn’t rest when both my babies needed me.


Due to the hemorrhaging, Laurel would be put under general anesthesia instead of the usual spinal block used for C-sections. Maisie made it clear that this meant I would be the first person to hold our baby, not Laurel. I knew this would make Laurel sad, when she woke and I had to tell her what happened. But I wasn’t prepared for how I would feel about it.

I held Laurel’s hand through the entire surgery, stroking and kissing the back of her hand and murmuring words of encouragement as if she were awake. When our son was pulled from her womb, his blue skin covered in blood, I stopped breathing. Mere seconds passed before he took his first wailing breath of life, but it felt like an eternity.
As the nurses cleaned him up, I kept a firm grasp on Laurel’s hand while I whispered in her ear, narrating what was happening. I hoped that somewhere in her subconscious mind, she was listening, and maybe someday she could piece together this moment.


Maisie smiled as she approached me with the bundle wrapped in a striped baby blanket.


As I took my son in my arms for the first time, I was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion so powerful, it should have knocked me out of my chair.


Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked down at his puffy, pink face. “This is my boy,” I said with a chuckle. His tiny body moved in my arms and it my chest filled with sheer wonder and joy. I shook my head, unable to believe I’d made something so pure and so real. “This is our son.” I put my finger next to his tiny hand and my heart nearly burst when he grabbed on. I kissed his fingers the way I’d kissed Laurel’s hand earlier and his eyelids fluttered. “Laurel, baby, I wish you could see this.” I looked up at Maisie. “Doesn’t he need to be breastfed or something?” I asked.


She smiled. “They will bring her out of anesthesia in a few minutes, once she’s stitched up. For now, he needs to be held by his papa.”


The words echoed in my mind. His papa.

My face screwed up as I was overcome with emotion. The fear and doubt I’d felt about becoming a father seemed like a distant memory. I’d never been so filled with absolute joy in all my life.

I was a father. I was papa.




Present day


I had let my jealousy and rage distract me from what was truly important. I’d driven Laurel away twice, at a time when my pixie needed me most. I knew Laurel didn’t owe me a third chance, which was why I was going to earn my way back into her arms. And there was only two ways to do that.

One way was to catch the bastard who stole our happiness. The other way might prove more difficult. It would involve closing my case files and admitting that my need for justice was tearing my marriage apart. But I couldn’t do that, not until I gave my quest for justice one final effort. If I couldn’t get justice for my boy by the time Laurel turned thirty next month, I would pack away my case files and do whatever I took to get her back.


I handed my suitcase to the guy wearing the fluorescent safety vest, then I climbed the steps of the private charter plane at exactly eleven a.m. Immediately, I slid my cell phone out of the interior pocket of my sport coat and called my assistant, Jade Insley.


“Good morning,” she answered cheerily.


“Jade, I need you to forward all my calls, even the ones to my cell, to your desk phone. I’m out of town and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”


“Absolutely,” she replied. “What should I tell the partners?”


“Tell them I’m visiting family. I’ll check in occasionally for messages.”

I ended the call and immediately removed the SIM card from my phone, tossing the tiny chip over the side of the staircase before I stepped inside the plane. I gave the attendant my drink order — club soda with lime — then I tucked my cell into my coat. Sliding the burner phone out of the front pocket of my slacks, I took a seat in the plush leather seat. I turned the phone on and shot off a text.


Plane taking off. Should land in less than two hours. We still on for three p.m.?


I’ll be there with bells on.




I pulled my rental car into a space in front of a two-story office building clad in weathered cedar shingles. The dark tinted windows and lack of signage made it look like a place one would go to get illegal plastic surgery. Other than my rented Chevy Tahoe, the only other cars in the lot were a beat up Cadillac Eldorado and a pristine 80s era cherry-red Porsche.

When I stepped into the lobby, I was not surprised to find a directory missing a third of its letters. But I was still able to determine that “SEA D GHE TY PI 2 1” meant Sean Dougherty, Private Investigator was in suite 201 or 211. That narrowed my options down significantly.

I opted not to take my chances on the wood-paneled elevator and took the stairs up to the second floor. The smell of body odor and desperation engulfed me as I walked down the hallway. The first door I saw was 201 and I quickly reached for the doorknob, eager to escape the smell in the corridor, but the knob didn’t turn. I rapped on the steel door a few times, certain that no one would hear me. I was surprised when my knocking was met with a loud grunt from within.

I immediately lifted the right side of my sport coat, my hand hovering over the gun holstered on my hip as I waited for the door to open.

“Who is it?” a gruff voice called from the other side.

“Jack Stratton. We have an appointment.”

The door opened slowly and we both smiled when we realized we both have our hands poised over our sidearms.

I slowly moved my hand away from my weapon and held it up in front of me. “All good.”
The man lowered his hand and pushed the door wide open. “Good to meet you, Jack,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Sean.”

We shook, and I was not at all surprised to find his calloused hand had a killer grip. “It’s really good to meet you,” I replied as I stepped inside suite 201.

My shoulders relaxed instantly when I realized Sean’s office was actually quite clean and modern and smelled like coffee. Not a hint of despair. Sean was a sturdy man in his early fifties, with thick salt and pepper hair and muscled limbs clothed in a crisp button-up and slacks. Not at all what I expected from a gritty private investigator who worked in the ninth circle of office park hell.

“The exterior throws people off. Only the people who are serious make it past the front door,” he said as if he were reading my thoughts. “Have a seat.” He continued speaking as I took a seat across the glass desk. “Hood River PD approved my request to see the file this morning, and I was able to go through most of it before you got here. We’re both obviously most interested in this memo they received from Boise PD. Have you spoken with Detective Robinson yet?”

I shook my head. “She couldn’t say much over the phone. I have a meeting scheduled with her tomorrow. She didn’t seem very optimistic that this would lead anywhere. She hasn’t had a whole lot of luck with sealed adoption records. But I’m working on a piece of software to cross-reference birth records and the NCIC persons files for individuals in Oregon, Washington, and Idaho. I should have the code finalized and ready to run in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I wanted to get you on the case to see if we can track down that adoption decree. I mean, I don’t even have the guy’s name. I’m flying blind.”


NCIC stood for National Crime Information Center, the database shared between the FBI and federal, state, local, and tribal criminal justice users to cooperate on investigations and policies.

Sean leaned back in his desk chair and cocked an eyebrow. “So what put you onto this lead anyway? This is a pretty serious accusation.”

I shook my head as I stared at the manila folder on his desk. “Just a hunch, I guess. I always felt like there was more to Beth than any of us knew.”

“And Beth is your wife’s mother, right?”


I nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, Beth was a great mom and I couldn’t have asked for a better grandmother for my son. She… She gave her life trying to protect my boy. I hold no ill will toward her. But there was always something about her that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“I used to chalk it up to the same mysterious quality Laurel has. A strange, otherworldly kind of beauty and wit. But with Laurel’s mom, there were other signs that I didn’t know the real Beth.”

“Like what?”

“Just general secretiveness when it came to what caused her divorce from Laurel’s father and stuff like that. It wasn’t until someone in our Facebook group passed on the tip to Boise PD about Mike O’Toole that Detective Robinson decided to do a little digging into Beth’s past.”

“So who’s Mike O’Toole?”

I waved off the question. “A dead lead, but it did get Robinson asking questions and that’s why I’m here. The PI I spoke to in Portland told me that it could take years to win a battle to unseal adoption records. She said my best bet, if the suspect is living here in Idaho, would be to try to find someone who could track him down here. So here I am, hoping like hell you can help me find the piece of shit that killed my son, because… I’m on the verge of losing everything.”

Sean is silent for a long while as he stares at the glass desktop, and when he finally looks up, his square face is fixed with a tight smile. “Well, you were honest with me, so I guess it’s my turn for a little show and tell.” He reaches behind him, opens the top drawer of a two-drawer file cabinet, and pulls out a silver picture frame. “This is my Rosie,” he says, placing the picture on top of his desk so I could see the photo of a teenage girl with wavy blonde hair and a beaming smile. “Rose hated when I called her Rosie,” he said, staring at the picture with a wistful look in his steel-gray eyes.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, stopping myself before I could say she reminded me a bit of Laurel.

“Rose was seventeen when she went to an ice skating rink with some friends. Same as she’d done every winter since she was eight years old. But this time, she went outside to have a smoke. A nasty habit. I kept grounding her to try to get her to stop, but she just wouldn’t listen. She was too pigheaded.” He finally looked up and met my gaze. “That was the last we saw of her until her body was discovered two months later, in a creek forty miles away.”

I clenched my jaw as I imagined how I would have felt if I’d had seventeen years with Junior before he was murdered. Or if, God forbid, it had been Laurel who had been taken away from me. I wouldn’t want to live in a world without Laurel.

“That was a knockout punch. I was down for the count. No coming back from that, I thought,” Sean continued. “So I doubled down on how fast I could wreck my life. I was a financial crimes detective at the time, but I began sleeping in my office, poring over the case files day and night. I became obsessed.”


I lowered my gaze as his words shamed me. All the nights I’d spent sleeping on the couch in my home office instead of in the bedroom with Laurel were mirrored in Sean’s story. And somehow, I didn’t think his story had a happy ending.


“Did you find out who did it?”


Sean smiled as he shook his head. “Nope. I lost my job. Lost my marriage. Lost my house. That bastard took my daughter from me, but I willingly gave him everything else. You understand?”

I nodded in silence. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of a single cynical thing to say. I was only in this office because this was my last resort. I couldn’t come back to Laurel emptyhanded. I’d given her every material thing she could ever want. I gave her shelter and security. I gave her my love. But I hadn’t given her my full attention.


Unfortunately, I knew myself too well to know that I would not be able to focus on my marriage and work until I was certain I’d done everything I could for Junior. And, yes, even for Beth. She may have had her secrets, but I meant it when I said Junior could not have asked for a better grandmother. She deserved justice as much as my boy did.


Sean Dougherty and the software program I was working on, which I had dubbed PNW Checkmate, were my last hope. If the software helped us find Junior’s killer, I would expand the software to include all fifty states and territories. For now, I had to focus on this area, and specifically Boise. If Ava Robinson’s suspicions were correct that Beth and Junior’s murders were not random, this was surely the missing piece of the puzzle we needed to help us crack this case. Laurel and I might finally be able to turn the page on this gruesome chapter of our lives.

Sean and I chatted for more than two hours. I filled in any holes in the case file he’d received from the Hood River Police Department. I laid out my suspicions about Beth’s past, information I’d gleaned through conversations with Beth and Laurel over the years. The most interesting tidbit being the time Laurel told me her mother had left her father for a few months when she was about five years old. It wasn’t definitive evidence, but it was one brushstroke in a colorful picture of a woman who lived her life with as much verve as the flowers she so carefully nurtured.

“Whatever you do, do not—I repeat, do not attempt to approach any potential suspects or interviewees on your own. You hear me?” He glared at me with his thick eyebrows raised, awaiting my agreement.

“You have my word,” I replied, probably not as definitively as I should have.

“I’m serious, Jack. Don’t get yourself killed or arrested for this shit. It’s not worth it. Tell me you understand.”

I nodded. “I understand,” I said with a bit more vigor.

He eyed me warily. “I’ll handle all interviews. You’ve got too much at ´stake. Too many emotions that pose a threat here. And I’m the experienced interrogator. So this is not a request. This is an order. You hear me?”

I looked him dead in the eye. “Loud and clear.”




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About Cassia Leo:


 New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book. Find her on…


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Excerpt Reveal – Two Wedding Crashers





Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m going to tell you a little secret: I’ve lost the spark.


You know the kind of spark I’m talking about?


Where butterflies take flight in your stomach from two hands innocently colliding. Or catching your breath when you first meet someone attractive. Yeah, that spark.


Except I haven’t felt that feeling in forever; there is nothing left inside of me.


Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem–but I’m a writer on a serious deadline, and my editor is breathing down my neck for a romantic, Nicholas Sparks type love story. No pressure, right?


That’s how I find myself flying across the country to crash a wedding in the name of research, dress and heels stuffed into my small suitcase.


It should be the easiest book research ever. Drinking some free champagne, basking in the love of two strangers, and tapping into my romantic side. That will be a breeze. I’m a pro. I can handle this.


Until I mistakenly end up in the wrong hotel room, naked as the day I was born, with the sexiest human I have ever met staring me down, wondering what I’m doing taking a shower in his bathroom. I don’t think calling it research will get me out of this pickle.












Crystal-blue ocean shines below me, and if I wasn’t so scared of Zoey and her repercussions for being late, I would take the time to appreciate Mother Nature. Instead I hurry into my room, flop my suitcase on my bed, unzip it, and grab my toiletries.


Not taking a second longer, I strip down, leaving my gross airplane clothes on the floor, and practically skip to the shower where I stop mid stride.


In the shower stall is a black razor, with accompanying shaving cream. That’s odd. Is that courtesy of the hotel? This place is fancy, but not that fancy. Spinning on my heel, I turn toward the sink behind me and spot a white and green toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, and men’s cologne. Shit, turning toward the room, my eyes frantically roam the space, spotting a black suitcase in the corner.


Shit, shit, shit.


Naked, I cover my breasts with my arm and open the closet door only to come face to face with a few hung-up shirts.


Yup . . . I’m in someone else’s fucking room.


And whoever this room belongs to is the neatest person ever because who honestly lines up there toothbrush and toothpaste tube perfectly on the counter?


Reaching for the phone, I call down to the front desk.


“Mr. Wilder, how can we assist you?” Oh yeah, totally not in the correct room.


“Uh, yeah, hi, this is Rylee Ryan. I just checked in. I was given the key to room 625 and it seems to be occupied.”


“Oh dear, let me check.” There is a pause on the phone and then the lady comes on the line again. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss. Ryan. We have you in room 626. Would you like to come down here and grab a new key?”


Is she kidding? The trek it took to get over here ate up enough of my time. I can’t possibly take a shower if I have to run back to the lobby, grab a key, and run all the way back here.


“Would you mind bringing it to room 625? I have dinner plans and have to get changed.”


“Oh, of course. I’ll send someone up with a key right away.”


“Thank you.”


I hop around naked, eyeing my pukey clothes on the floor and the shower in the other room. Twisting my lip to the side, I try to decide what to do. I can be super quick, like really fucking quick. I just need to scrub the puke and throw on a dress, simple. Two minutes tops. The water doesn’t even have to be warm. I’ll write a polite note to Mr. Wilder—whoever that is—leave him five dollars as a kind gesture and quietly leave. No problem with that. Right?




Turning on the shower, I hop in before the water can warm up and hiss from the frosty temperature. I douse soap all over my hands and scrub my neck and body vigorously first, which normally I would wash my hair first but . . . puke. Once I’m satisfied with the amount of scrubbing, I wash my hair, condition it in a minute, do one more soap scrubbing all over my body before rinsing and turning the shower off. Two minutes.
Just in case Mr. Wilder is sitting outside the bathroom, I peek my head out the door, towel wrapped around my body, and call out, “Hello?”


When there is no response, I check that the coast is clear then strut to my suitcase and find a simple black sundress. Not bothering to look for underwear or a bra—I really don’t need one with my perky B-cups—I lay out my dress and dry off.


Hopefully Mr. Wilder doesn’t mind me using one of his towels or his room for that matter. He’s probably some old dude away on his golfing vacation. I hope I don’t give him a heart attack.


I drape my towel over the bed and run my hands through my naturally wavy, black hair. This will have to do. Picking up my towel one more time, I scrunch my hair, trying to soak up all the water just as the hotel door swings open, light blaring through, a tall, dark silhouette shadowed in the doorframe.


I still, frozen from the tips of my toes to the hand scrunching a towel in my hair.
Toned calves and legs are covered by black board shorts, slick to his thighs, a bulge prominent. Narrow waist where his board shorts ride low on his hips, a black shirt dancing across his broad chest, cinching sleeves cuffed over his biceps, and a V-neck providing a glimpse of how far his tan extends. Head cast down, eyes transfixed on his phone in front of him, he doesn’t notice the naked girl standing in the middle of his hotel room. He stuffs his keycard in his back pocket and looks up, startled.


I scream.


He grumbles something unintelligible as I point out the obvious. “Ahhh, my boobs are naked!” It might be a little concerning that I consider my boobs to be the only things naked at this point.


As quickly as I can, I cover my body, towel making a poor attempt to hide my girly bits.
The man turns away, covering his eyes with his arm while muttering, “Oh shit.”


“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask, struggling with my towel. I know damn well the man in front of me must be Mr. Wilder, and this is in fact his room, and I’m the one intruding, but I still feel the need to place the blame on him for walking in on me naked.


“Grabbing my sunglasses,” he says, his voice terrified but also deep and rumbly. “What the hell are you doing here?”


Still trying to cover myself, I scramble to grab my dress and back up to the bathroom.


“Washing my neck,” I answer, nervously, boobs swaying with my erratic movements.
Eyes still covered, he keeps his back toward me but straightens up. “Washing your neck? Is that code for some kind of weird Key West thing?”


I back into the bathroom and make quick attempt of putting my dress over my head and righting it so everything is covered up. Hair still damp as well as my body, I step out into the room and clear my throat, dress sticking to my damp skin. “No, it’s not code for anything. I really had to wash my neck.”


“And you chose my room to do that in, because . . .”


Bending down, I shove my dirty clothes in my bag and zip up, giving Mr. Wilder the heads-up that I’m dressed. At least he’s a gentleman . . .


When he turns around, he eyes me up and down, his gaze curious and heated when he sees just how hard my nipples are from the cold shower . . . and the unexpected peep show.


“I didn’t choose your room to take a shower in.” I move my suitcase to the floor and pull up the handle. “The hotel gave me the key to this room by mistake, and since I had puke on my neck from the airplane—long story—I decided to take a quick shower while I waited for my room. I apologize for taking up your space, but I think we’re skipping an important detail here.” I cock my hand on my hip. “You saw me naked.”


“No, I didn’t,” he retorts rather quickly, despite the slow grin that spreads across his face.
I’m calling bullshit. “You totally saw my boobs.”


“I really didn’t. Your scream scared the shit out of me. I didn’t have enough time to see anything before you covered up.”


Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “You promise you didn’t see anything?”


Hmm. “Okay, because being hotel neighbors and all, that would be extremely awkward if you saw me naked.”


“Good thing I didn’t then.” He rocks back on his heels, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do. Finally he reaches out to the desk next to him and holds up his black Ray Bans. “Just needed my sunglasses.”






Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.


Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.


Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!


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