Beneath the Stars Excerpt Blitz
A Friends-to-Lovers Rockstar Romance from A.L. Jackson
Coming February 22nd
Beneath the Stars is coming 02/22, and I’m thrilled to be a part of the except blitz. Check out the fire that is coming to you in this friends-to-lovers romance!
“Just how strong are ya, Mag Pie? Think you can sling me on that back and carry me inside?” He managed to only half slur the words.
Droplets of giddiness dripped into my chest. A well gathering fast. “You’re asking me if I can lift a Mack truck?”
“Hell, no. Just if you can tackle a stallion.”
He waggled his brows, though it was sloppy and goofy and kind of adorable, and god, how easily I could fall for this man.
Like slipping into quicksand.
“What would you say if I wanted to try?” I whispered, throat so tight it was difficult to speak.
He grunted. “I’d say that sounds like a mistake.”
“I thought you said I needed to make a few mistakes along the way?” I lifted my chin, my eyes searching his face in the darkness.
He forced a grin that felt wholly faked. “Ahhh…a few mistakes are called for. But believe me, baby, you don’t want this kind of tragedy.”
He shook his head to cut me off. “Don’t.”
I glanced back at the house. “I really should get Royce. He can help me get you inside.”
Rhys huffed out a laugh, shoving off the darkness that had gathered around him like a violent storm. He cocked a playful grin. “Think I’ve received my full allotment of death threats from your brother today, thank you very much. I can make it just fine.”
“Let’s just say he made our boundaries very clear.” He gestured at the bare space between us. “Just so you know, we’re already crossin’ them.”
I scowled. “When?”
I huffed a sigh.
“Richard?” I offered instead.
“Nope. Good as new. Can’t keep a good man down.” His words were all slurry and mushed together.
He hopped up like he was going to prove the point.
Only he stumbled three feet to the side.
A goliath who swayed.
I jumped up and rushed to his side. “Whoa there, cowboy. You keep it up, and you’re definitely going down.”
He leaned against me, slinging his arm over my shoulders.
The man heavy and hard and pure masculinity.
He staggered a bit, and I struggled to keep him upright, because holy crap, he was made of brick.
Suddenly, his nose was in my hair. “Why you gotta smell so good, Mags? And this dress.”
My brain was short-circuiting with him this close.
With the words that slipped from his mouth so errantly.
With the way his fingertips grazed over the silky fabric in the barest brush.
It consumed my flesh.
But it was my heart that was at risk.
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“AL Jackson wrecked me and put me back together with this book. I fell for Rhys and Maggie’s story from page one!”
-Jessica Prince, Romance Author
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A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, BLEEDING STARS, FIGHT FOR ME, CONFESSIONS OF THE HEART, and FALLING STARS novels. Watch out for her upcoming stand-alone, BENEATH THE STARS, releasing February 22nd.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.
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Reader Group: http://smarturl.it/AmysAngelsRock
“What the hell?”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he snarls, cornering me until my spine meets a row of coats. “Your whore mother marrying my father changes nothing between us.”
I almost want to laugh, because I don’t like this new arrangement any more than he does.
However, it’s comical just how much it’s ruffling his feathers.
“Awe, what’s the matter, Trenton?” I taunt. “Afraid I’ll—”
Words die in my throat when one hand slams across my mouth and the other one hovers over my throat, threatening to squeeze. “I’m not afraid of anything, Stray.”
He utters the last word with so much venom I nearly wince. Out of all the cruel nicknames Knox has given me over the years, this one hurts the most.
Because it’s the truth.
Ever since my dad died, I’ve felt lost and abandoned.
Like a kitten who lost its way and will never find home because they don’t belong anywhere.
He leans in close, his ruthless stare burning a hole right through me. “But you should be.”
A shiver runs down my spine, not only because of his threatening words and the hostility they’re laced with…but the lethal way he’s looking at me.
As if he’s contemplating the best method to kill me and dispose of my body afterward.
I’ve heard all the rumors going around school.
His mom was murdered when he was thirteen…
And his dad sent him to a mental institution for a year while he covered it up.
Because Knox was the one who did it.
People weren’t terrified of him just because he was a bully who got off on terrorizing others.
They were terrified because he was a legitimate psychopath who was capable of homicide.
Until now, I wasn’t sure I believed any of the gossip.
At six foot three he towers over my five-four frame, but I force myself to peer up and look him right in the eyes. “Go to hell.”
Deep down I’m petrified of the lunatic, but I refuse to let him see that.
My breath hitches when he presses his body against mine and the hand looming over my throat constricts. “I live there.”
Live? More like ruled because as far as I’m concerned, he’s the devil.
My retort falls by the wayside, though, when he leans in and his mouth brushes mine.
I’m about to ask what the fuck he’s doing, but a sharp sting shoots through my flesh when his teeth clamp down on my bottom lip and I taste a hint of copper.
I try to pull away, but that only makes the pain worse.
Thinking quick, I knee him in the balls.
With an aggravated grunt, he finally releases his hold.
I expect him to be pissed so I brace myself, preparing for another attack, but to my surprise there’s a trace of amusement in his expression.His tongue darts out and I see the glint of metal from his piercing as he swipes the blood gathered on his lip. “Welcome to the family, sis.” About the Author: Ashley Jade loves to tackle different genres and tropes within romance. Her first loves are New Adult Romance and Romantic Suspense, but she also writes everything in between including: contemporary romance, erotica, and dark romance. Her characters are flawed and complex, and chances are you will hate them before you fall head over heels in love with them. She’s a die-hard lover of oxford commas, em dashes, music, coffee, and anything thought provoking…except for math. Books make her heart beat faster and writing makes her soul come alive. She’s always read books growing up and scribbled stories in her journal, and after having a strange dream one night; she decided to just go for it and publish her first series. It was the best decision she ever made. If she’s not paying off student loan debt, working, or writing a novel—you can usually find her listening to music, hanging out with her readers online, and pondering the meaning of life. Check out her amazon page and Facebook page for future novels. She recently became hip and joined Twitter, so you can find her there, too. She loves connecting with her readers—they make her world go round’. Connect w/Ashley: Website: https://ashleyjadeauthor.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Ashley-Jade-Author-788137781302982/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ajadeauthor Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ashleyjadeauthor/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14175946 Bookbub:https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ashley-jade Amazon: https://amzn.to/2RGsIJ9
DOOR OF BRUISES (Thornchapel #4) by Sierra Simone
Release Date: November 30th
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Twelve years ago, our fates were sealed with a kiss.
We are all, for better or worse, doomed to love each other until death do us part. My heart belongs to Proserpina and St. Sebastian—even if he no longer wants it. Even if she has left it behind to follow him.
Delphine’s fled back home, and Becket’s holy calling is in peril.
And now only Rebecca and I remain at Thornchapel to face the unknown.
The door is open. The door that shouldn’t exist; the door that people have died to close. I don’t feel like the lord of the manor…I don’t feel like a king or a wild god. I am a friend and a boyfriend and a brother—and a failure at being all of these things. But the door doesn’t care about my guilt. It only cares about the sacrifice I’ll make to close it.
As the bruising dark of Samhain approaches, so does the fate of our circle, of Thornchapel and the village and the valley beyond it. And I must don the crown, because one thing is still true, even if I must face it alone.
Here at Thornchapel, the kings must go to the door.
Here at Thornchapel, all kings must die.
He lifts his head; the deep brown of his irises is almost obsidian in the barely-lit foyer. They remind me of the earth at Thornchapel—near-black and wet, filled with secrets. His eyes could eat bones.
They’re already eating mine.
He draws in a breath. “You knew,” he says in a juddering kind of voice, “because you always know. Do you know that I don’t want to leave? Do you know that I want to go back upstairs with you? Do you know that I’d let you do anything to me right now? Anything you wanted, Auden, anything at all.” He steps closer, his lips parted, his hands slowly turning so his palms face me in offering.
Outside, I hear the trees lashing and fretting in a sudden, gusting wind.
“Anything,” I echo.
His pulse thrums just above the collar of his borrowed shirt. “Anything.”
I could have him now. If I wanted.
If I pushed, he’d break. If I pulled, he’d fall. All I have to do is say yes to this churning, crashing need inside me, and I could have him at my feet, I could have him on his stomach and I could be inside him with my palm against his throat and this blazer crushed between us.
And he’s looking at me like we’re sixteen again and about to kiss in a bed of flowers, like we’re starting over at the very beginning and there’s nothing between us, nothing but delirious, innocent lust—I could have him.
I could have him.
But having and loving are only sometimes the same thing.
I take a step back. “You’ll be late if you don’t go now,” I say. The words come out gentler than I feel them; they feel like razor-wire leaving my mouth.
“Auden . . . ” he says. Pleads. “But I—I miss you.”
He says it like I don’t miss him in return. He says it like I’m the bad guy here, like I’m the one who left, and maybe this is the hardest part of loving someone, maybe this was always the test. Not letting him leave, but making him go.
I take his hand, wrapping my fingers around his so that my thumb rests on the Guest family ring. My hand is shaking. My entire body is shaking.
Outside the trees are thrashing and behind my eyes it feels like all I can see is forest and rain. I drag in a breath, forcing the feeling down inside me, as if I can tamp whatever it is back into my belly, as if I can pretend that I don’t want to run and chase and hunt. I’m not a king, I’m not so twisted up in Thornchapel that even the trees feel my lust and my pain. I’m just a London boy with a non-Smythson bag and good hair. I’m just a friend and a brother and I’m going to do the right thing, because I’ll pay any price not to have St. Sebastian look at me like he did at Lammas.
Because I’ve finally, finally learned that I can’t choose us for him.
He has to do it on his own.
“Listen,” I say. “You and Proserpina will always be my air and my water—the very things that make up my blood—and that hasn’t changed, because it will never change, it can’t. I can’t.”
I put my free hand against his stomach, pressing the ejaculate-damp shirt into his skin. Mine, the gesture says. My own thing.
“This is me. But you are you, and I love you as you are, and don’t you see it? Don’t you feel it? You were right about me. A few minutes alone with me, and I have you dressed like a doll and wearing my cum, and if you spend the night with me, I’ll have you shivering and spent and marked all over. If you come back to Thornchapel, I will never stop looking and reaching and wanting. I can’t be trusted.”
He’s shaking his head, even though I’m only repeating his own words from Lammas back to him. “You can’t be trusted,” I remind him gently. “You had your reasons for leaving. Have they changed so much that you can abandon them all now? Truly?”
He’s stopped shaking his head now, and he’s staring up at me with a look so hopeless I can’t stand it.
This is what no one told me about love, about being the Thorn King, about everything.
You can be broken, and still you must let people break you again and again.
You must help them break you, if necessary.
You must allow your own sorrows, your own torments and regrets, to be subsumed in the face of their own.
You must cut yourself apart piece by piece and plant those pieces far and wide in the lives of those around you, and then you must not lament when they don’t take root. You must cut yourself apart and do it all over again. As many times as it takes.
As many times as it takes.
“Go, St. Sebastian,” I say, letting go of his hand. I can still feel the worn crest of his ring against my thumb. The G surrounded by twining, twisting thorns. “Just go.”
He swallows. Whispers, “I’m sorry.”
And then finally, mercifully, he turns and opens the door. I watch him take the steps with the vague stagger of a dying man, and then I watch him slope off into the night, shoulders hunched forward and head down.
I think he’s crying.
I know I am.
About the Author:
Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.
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K. Bromberg has revealed the cover for Hard to Hold!
Releasing: December 1, 2020
Cover Designer: Helen Williams
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Model: Lucas Loyola
New York Times bestselling author, K. Bromberg, is back with a heartfelt, standalone romance and a new hero to steal your heart . . .
The contract with Major League Soccer was supposed to help repair my damaged reputation. Then I discovered that I’d made a deal with the devil: the player I’m supposed to recruit is none other than the bad boy, star Premier League footballer, Rush McKenzie. British. Tattooed. Sexy. A man currently at the center of a huge scandal. The goal? To convince him to stay in the States. But what’s wrong with a little fun in the meantime? No strings. No sweet nothings. Just a way to pass the time while we’re both struggling to prove our true selves to the world. If someone found out our relationship was anything more than professional, it would only serve to prove all our critics right. *** I never should have agreed to take the fall. But I did and I’m a man of my word. Even if it means risking everything I’ve worked for. The only bright side is Lennox Kincade. Gorgeous. Defiant. Rumor-tainted. Totally off-limits. Sharing a house with the gorgeous sports agent should have been a fun distraction from the turmoil. Someone to help pass the time while the tensions back home die down. But what started as nothing, ends up as something I never saw coming.
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New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary romance novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines and damaged heroes who we love to hate but can’t help to love. A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow and her mind scattered in too many different directions. Since publishing her first book on a whim in 2013, Kristy has sold over one and a half million copies of her books across eighteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over thirty times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by the streaming platform, Passionflix, with the first movie (Driven) out now. With her imagination always in overdrive, she is currently scheming, plotting, and swooning over her latest hero. You can find out more about him or chat with Kristy on any of her social media accounts. The easiest way to stay up to date on new releases and upcoming novels is to sign up for her newsletter (http://bit.ly/254MWtI) or follow her on Bookbub (http://smarturl.it/KBrombergBB)
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Facebook Group: http://smarturl.it/DrivenFB
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