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⭐Excerpt Reveal ⭐ THIS BOY by Jenna Scott⭐

  THIS BOY (This Boy Trilogy #1) by Jenna Scott Release Date: November 17th
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55720142-this-boy   Preorder TODAY! Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HlS0bO Apple: https://apple.co/3o35NVD Kobo: https://bit.ly/35BWeVl Nook: https://bit.ly/2I4VjF1 Google Play: https://bit.ly/3karC3v     Blurb: Nothing in Camilla’s life will be the same after This Boy… Camilla dreams of the day she can leave her life behind. Saying goodbye to the mother she’s never been good enough for, to the bottles there’s always money for, to the bills there’s never money for—and most of all, to being the help in someone else’s dream home. But the scholarship to her new private school that gives her a real chance at a future comes with one big catch—Hunter Beck. It’s his home her mother cleans. His little brother that Camilla babysits. It’s his face that she dreams of at night, and his cruel voice that taunts her every day. Hunter is the most popular boy in school, and she’s his favorite target. She hates him, but even more, she hates how drawn she is to him. Becoming his debate partner seems destined to end in disaster. As she’s drawn further into his world, he alternately pulls her close and pushes her away. But behind the roller coaster, Camilla senses true emotion. A man she wants to know hiding inside the boy. She’s so close to getting everything she wants. Getting into college. Leaving this town forever. She’s let nothing get in her way so far. So why does it feel like Hunter Beck might be the boy who ruins it all?         About the Author: After growing up in the midwest, Jenna Scott moved to Los Angeles for the endless summer. As an introvert in the city, she loves to people-watch in coffee shops, writing down the stories she makes up about the other patrons. Besides her fiction habit, Jenna also enjoys photography and her collection of houseplants.   Connect w/Jenna: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jenna-Scott-103874804845334 Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20824729.Jenna_Scott      
Posted in Excerpt

★★Excerpt Reveal Lord of London Town by Tillie Cole★★





















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Cheska Harlow-Wright was born into a life of luxury and privilege. She has

never wanted for anything. A comfortable future as a married London socialite

awaits her. But since the age of thirteen, Cheska has harboured a secret—an

unshakeable fixation on a boy who could never offer her anything close to

comfort. A boy steeped in sin and draped in depravity. A boy born into the

possessive embrace of darkness.


When Cheska’s seemingly perfect world is ripped apart by an unknown but

deadly enemy, there’s only one person she can run to. One person in the world

who has the power to keep her safe. The one person her weak and shattered

heart craves.


Arthur Adley. The new head of the most feared crime family in London.


Forced too young to take the helm of the Adley firm, Arthur has become even

more ruthless, formidable, and cold than ever before. His enemies are circling,

and he must fight—and kill—to maintain his family’s place at the top of the

London crime underworld. There is no room for weakness, emotion, or loss of

control.


But then Cheska smashes back into his life with the force of a wrecking ball.

She has no place in this dark, vicious, and bloodthirsty world. And worse, she is


the solitary chink in his impenetrable armour. He’s already pushed her away

once, but this time she desperately needs him. She’s broken, lost, and in danger,

and he is the only one who can help.


Arthur must protect her. He must destroy those who dare to threaten her, hunt

down those who would take what is his. He would raze all of London to the

ground to keep her safe… but can he also protect himself?


The infamous Dark Lord of London Town faces his most brutal battle yet—the

crippling weight of the past, the unrelenting enemies lurking in the shadows…

and the havoc that Cheska’s presence is wreaking on the granite fortress that

was once his heart.


Dark contemporary Romance. Contains sexual situations, violence and

sensitive subjects that some may find triggering.






CHESKA




“If you stare at that bloody yacht any more, you’ll burn a hole in its side.” I looked from Arthur’s yacht to Arabella. She was lying on her lounger on the sun deck, head tilted back, her SPF-drenched dark skin shimmering under the blistering Marbella sun.

I took a sip of my mojito, letting the mint and lime cool me down. I saw a few of Arthur’s friends on the deck. But he wasn’t there. I hadn’t seen him since the night in the club. Not long after Ollie Lawson and his friends came, Arthur and his boys had disappeared. I had no idea where to. But they hadn’t come back.

My cheeks blazed when I thought back to him looking at me right in the eyes as he fingered the girl on his lap. As her eyes rolled back and she moaned out loud as her orgasm barrelled through her.

A hand waved in front of my face, pulling me back from the other night. From Arthur … his dark hair, blue eyes and black-rimmed glasses that just did something to me. I couldn’t read him. He was as impenetrable as Fort Knox. Even when his gaze had been locked on mine, I couldn’t get a bloody read on him. He gave nothing away. It was as if he was soulless. As if he lacked any basic emotion.

Cool.

Calculated.

Deadly.

The hand before my face moved faster. When I shook my head, withdrawing myself from thoughts of Arthur and those eyes that were as unbreakable as a bank safe, it was to see Freya. She smiled, but I could see a tinge of worry in her dark eyes.

She studied me, then put her palm on my forehead as if checking my temperature. I moved her hand away. “Frey,” I said, sighing. “I’m fine.”

“Just checking you haven’t got a fever or anything. Or heat exhaustion.” She took a sip of her Chardonnay. Her purple bikini somehow made her Irish features look more pronounced, and made her curves look like something out of a Renaissance painting.

“I’m completely well.”

Arabella sat up and moved her Gucci sunglasses from her espresso eyes. Her curls framed her beautiful face. “You do know that yacht belongs to Alfie Adley, don’t you?” Her lips were pursed with worry. “That guy you keep staring at is Arthur Adley. The Arthur Adley, heir to the Adley firm and their empire of death and destruction.”

“I know who he is. I have done since we met at thirteen, remember?”

“Yeah, we remember,” Freya said. “But do you? Alfie Adley was there to cash in on a debt your father owed. He wasn’t there for a night of drinks and billiards.”

“I know that,” I snapped. Freya and Arabella glanced at each other as though I’d lost my bloody mind. Maybe I had. All I knew was that, over the years, Arthur had become an obsession of mine. And now he was here. In the flesh. Docked next to us. Looking my way with that steely gaze that seemed to make my knees weak and my mind lose all of its senses.

“Daddy made a mistake. He explained it all to me. He made a bad investment.” I shrugged. “He sorted it and hasn’t had dealings with the Adleys again since.”

“Yet, here you are, wanting to fuck Arthur every which way to Sunday.” Arabella raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for my response.

The sound of raucous laughter came from the Adley yacht, and I glanced over. Just then, Arthur walked out onto the deck, a large gin glass in his hand. He seemed more often than not to be drinking gin, I’d noticed. It must have been his drink of choice—straight, with ice, no mixer. He was shirtless, wearing navy-blue shorts, his black-rimmed glasses firmly in place.

Christ, he was perfection. His skin was slightly kissed by the sun, and his dark hair looked like onyx under the midday sun’s rays.

As if feeling my stare, he looked over, his eyes landing straight on mine. His cousin, Charlie, followed his gaze, his eyes narrowing on me as if I were a problem he wanted to solve. My breathing came faster as Arthur didn’t look away from me. Not even when Freddie Williams stood beside him and started talking in his ear.

“Seriously, Cheska,” Freya said, and I reluctantly looked at my best friend. “Go fuck your boyfriend or something. Get any thought of Arthur Adley from your head.”

Arabella laughed. “Can you imagine taking him home to your daddy? He’d have a damn heart attack.”

“Maybe Arthur isn’t as bad as you think,” I said.

“They’re East End gangsters,” Freya said. “They’re murderers! We’ve all heard the rumours.”








Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.

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Posted in Excerpt

⭐⭐Excerpt Reveal NO GOOD by Stevie J. Cole & LP Lovell⭐⭐

  NO GOOD (Dayton #2) by Stevie J. Cole & LP Lovell Release Date: October 15th   Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53602464-no-good   Preorder: Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3jWME4X Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2GHF4wP Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/3lVqNg2 Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/33893FR     Blurb: He was the reprobate king of Dayton high. I was the bitter princess cast out of my kingdom. And we were at war. It started off with a lie, and a one-night stand gone terribly wrong. Although I knew nothing good would come from my encounter with Bellamy West, the small town’s gorgeous bad boy, I didn’t expect him to throw jet fuel onto the already flaming wreckage of my life. Then step back with a sexy smirk on his face to watch me burn. And burn I did… He got me fired. I got him arrested. We were enemies until we weren’t. Until one touch went too far, and I found myself craving each dirty word. Every filthy promise. Bellamy West was no good, and I wanted to be bad. Screw falling for Prince Charming, I wrote my love story with the villain. And for that, I paid…     Excerpt: I wondered if Bellamy had taken that blonde home or into a bathroom, or out to his car, and the jealousy whirring inside me grew. I never expected to be anything to him–I never wanted to be anything to him, so why in the hell was I letting this get to me so bad? Sighing, I wrapped the thick towel around me and went back to Jackson’s room to grab one of his shirts. “You know where his shirts are, huh?” I’d barely set one foot out of the bathroom before my gaze landed on Bellamy closing the door and locking it. A sliver of guilt rose inside me, then annoyance. Because why in the hell should I feel guilty? Folding my arms over my chest, I glared at him. “I’m surprised you could tear yourself away from your new friend. She seemed very attached. Limpeted even.” “Right…” His chin dropped on a not-so-funny laugh before he started across the room. “You look really comfortable in your guy’s towel…” He kept coming closer. And closer. Of course it crossed my mind to tell him that Jackson was not my guy, but then that blonde girl popped up like a bad smell, and well, I never pretended to be a rational human being. My body hit the footboard of Jackson’s bed, and Bellamy was right there. In my face. ““And you know what?” he said, his voice deep and rough. “I fucking hate it.” Tension mounted, so thick I could hardly breathe. Then Bellamy grabbed the back of my head and slammed his lips against mine in an angry kiss, shoving me back on Jackson’s bed. “I hate you so fucking much.” He ripped the towel away, and his mouth was all over me–Lips and throat and breasts. Hands groping every bit of bare skin I had. “I hate you more.” “Seems like it.” His fingers reached between my legs. There was nothing gentle about the way he touched me. Just fingers reaching until they stole my breath. “Is that why you’re so wet for me, baby girl?” I moaned into his mouth, each stroke of his hand contorting my body like it was his own, personal puppet. It felt like there was a bomb waiting to go off, and this bastard had been holding the detonator since the first time I’d met him. His fingers worked deeper, his tongue teasing my neck before he gripped my waist and rolled me on top of him. One hand went to my throat, the other still pressing into me, teasing and pushing while I straddled him. “Show me how much you despise me.” With no shame, I ground over his hand, loving the way his grip on my throat tightened while I chased something I desperately needed. Something he’d been teasing me with for weeks. Heat built in my body. I was seconds away from absolute bliss before he threw me back on the bed. “And like hell I’m letting you come first this time.” He worked his belt loose, yanking his dick out and tugging on it before he straddled my bare chest. “You remember how I told you I was gonna come all over your pretty, rich girl face?” I shouldn’t have wanted it, but I did. I needed Bellamy to be every bit as unhinged for me as I was for him. My anger bled through me as I raked my nails up his thighs, and grabbed his hips. And then I swallowed his dick, almost gagging when he touched the back of my throat. “Fuck…” His hands went to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he thrust forward. I dug my nails into his thighs. Hard, threatening him with a tiny bit of teeth, and he fisted my hair. His abs tensed. His muscles trembled. God, he was beautiful, and the sight of him had my frustrated body strung tight, on the edge. Right when I knew he was about to come, he pulled away, grabbing his dick and pumping over it. His head fell back on a deep groan that echoed around the room as he came on my chest. “I always knew that would look good on you, baby girl.” He swiped a finger at the corner of my mouth. The door rattled, breaking the silence before a bang sounded over the wood. “Drew?” Jackson’s voice came from the other side. Shit, shit, shit. I just let Bellamy come on me, in Jackson’s bed. I scooped up the towel and wiped myself clean. “Do not answer that door!” I slapped his arm. “Give me two minutes,” I called. Bellamy pushed off the bed with a glare. “And the shittiest part of this story: I actually fucking liked you…” Guilt lanced through me, and again, I should have just said: Jackson was a friend and it wasn’t what it looked like. But then I remembered exactly why I’d let him think I was more than friends with Jackson. “About as much as you like that blonde downstairs, I’m sure.” I dove for the chest of drawers, taking out a t-shirt and covering myself right as he flipped the lock. He yanked open the door, then tucked himself back in his jeans. “‘Sup Bennett?” Bellamy’s massive frame filled the dimly lit doorway, practically dwarfing Jackson. “I’d at least let her clean my come off her first…” Jackson’s arm drew back, but before he even moved to throw a jab, Bellamy knocked him clean out. Holy. Shit. “Bellamy! What is wrong with you?” I gasped. He just knocked the guy out in his own house. “I told you I was gonna fuck up your life, Drew…”         About Stevie J. Cole: Stevie J. Cole likes to write realistic stories with raw, gritty characters you should hate but can’t help but to love. She’s obsessed with rock music, loves sloths, and has an unnatural obsession with British accents. Her books are not recommended for the faint of heart.       Connect w/Stevie: Website: https://www.steviejcolebooks.com</a Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorsteviejcole Twitter: https://twitter.com/StevieJCole Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/StevieJCole Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7736491.Stevie_J_Cole Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stevie-J.-Cole/e/B00K9PK3EY Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/stevie-j-cole   **********************   About LP Lovell: Lauren Lovell is a ginger from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards. Lauren loves a mildly…or not so mildly psychopathic hero, and a dark, twisted tale. If you like like your boys very very bad, then hop on in. Connect w/LP: Website: http://lplovell.co.uk Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lplovellauthor Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/308860072628711 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lp_lovell/ Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Authorlplovell Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7850247.L_P_Lovel Amazon: https://amzn.to/3b04aBV Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lp-lovell NL Signup: http://lplovell.co.uk/newsletter  
Posted in Excerpt, New Releases, PreOrders

❀Excerpt Reveal ❀ BUT I NEED YOU by Willow Winters❀

  BUT I NEED YOU (This Love Hurts Trilogy #2) by Willow Winters

Release Date: October 20th  

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54304548-but-i-need-you  

Preorder But I Need You: https://geni.us/On2C  

Start the Series Today!!

THIS LOVE HURTS is on sale for 99¢!!!!
 

 

  Blurb:

Some love stories are a slow burn. Others are quick to ignite, scorching and branding your very soul before you’ve taken that first breath. You’re never given a chance to run from it. That’s how I’d describe what happened to us. Everything around me blurred and all that existed were his lips, his touch… The chase and the heat between us became addictive. Our nights together were a distraction, one we craved to the point of letting the world crumble around us. We should have paid more attention; we should have known that it would come to this. We both knew it couldn’t last, but that didn’t change what we desired most. All we wanted was each other… This is the second book in the This Love Hurts trilogy and This Love Hurts, book one, must be read first.  

Excerpt: “How long?” “How long have I been watching you? You have so many questions that you already know the answers to, don’t you?” All I have to do is remember the first week I moved in when the power went out. There wasn’t an ounce of me that suspected anything. That was years ago… Years. The answer sends goosebumps down my shoulders that don’t stop until a shiver takes over. “I have unusual ways, invasive, I know. But I tried to stay away and let you be. This is how I managed. And then… you kissed him. You fucked him. It … it’s taking a lot of effort to not be jealous. He’s been there for you and you’ve seen it.” I can barely breathe listening to him. “You told me not to be scared, but I am.” I admit the truth out loud because it’s too much. It’s far too real. “You’re a good girl for telling me.” Good girl. From anyone else I would snap, there’s a trigger inside of me wound tight and it would spring free. But from him… He adds, “We’re going to have to work on that. Lie down and let me help you.” “What do you want?” my voice trembles. “Again… You already know the answer.” He’s not wrong. I know what he wants, even my body is aware as my nipples harden against the soft cotton of my nightgown. As if he’s read my mind, his nearly silver gaze drops to my chest. “Fear is a funny thing, isn’t it?” He comments but remains where he is, “I bet you’re hot too, aren’t you?” All I can think about is Cody. Marcus may know things, but Cody may not. And whatever I do here, it could come back on a man who has done nothing but protect me. “Marcus … I’m with—” “I know. I saw it all. I saw you kiss him again yesterday. Really kiss him like you love him. You do, don’t you?” There’s not an ounce of anger, only knowing. “Marcus —” “I’m not mad. You don’t have to be afraid. But I deserve a chance. I don’t regret much in life, but I regret not taking you when I had the chance.” “When was that?” I question only to allow more time. To give space to the moment.” “Questions. So many questions, my Delilah.” Sitting straighter, his fingers wrap around the arms of the chair, as if he’s holding himself back. “I answered you, I gave you more information than I should.” “You told me not to be scared, but–” “If you’d like, I can make it easier on you.” I can only nod. “Lie down, Delilah.” With trembling limbs I do as he says, slowly, lifting the covers for a moment, glancing at the sheen of light against the gun still within reach. He lets me take his time, all the while I listen. “Close your eyes,” he whispers and they’re the most seductive words I’ve ever heard. If only sinning with your eyes closed saved your soul from the devil. Every little hair stands on edge when I hear the creak of him rising from the chair. My chest rises and falls chaotically, every fight of flight instinct screaming with adrenaline. “Don’t turn around,” he commands and I’m certain his steps are deliberately loud as he rounds the bed, walking behind me and then slowly, the weight of him is felt, the cool air from a raised comforter kisses my skin. With my eyes closed tight, he climbs in behind me and I have to part my lips to inhale. It’s a staggered breath that’s suffocated in his heat as he gets closer, inch by inch. Until his hard chest is nearly against my back. Every breath I barely graze him. With one more adjustment, his erection presses against my ass. A whimper leaves me and it’s then I feel his shadow weighing down on my. His fingers slip the loose hair down my shoulder and he whispers along the curve of my neck. “He likes to kiss you here… I understand the desire.”  

 

About the Author:

Willow Winters is so happy to be a USA Today, Wall Street Journal and #1 Contemporary Best Selling Author! Willow started writing after having her little girl, Evie, December 2015. All during her pregnancy with Evie she continued to read and she only wanted to read romance. She was reading a book a day — sometimes two. In January 2016 Willow was staying up late with Evie and just thinking of all these stories. They came to her constantly so she finally sat down and just started writing. She always wanted to do it so she figured, why not? Today Willow cannot be happier for making that decision!  

Stay up to date with Willow:

Sign up to Willow’s newsletter and receive EXCLUSIVE content, sneak peeks, and FREE books monthly: http://eepurl.com/b98e3D

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Posted in Excerpt

★★Excerpt Reveal ★BULLY KING by Andi Jaxon ★★Y’all I am reading this now and it is powerful!

  BULLY KING by Andi Jaxon Release Date: October 15th   Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53467444-bully-king   Preorder: Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2F9aZ8z Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3bzWCGl Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2GC3kQY Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/3jV1rxg     Blurb: I’m the pastor’s son. He’s the star quarterback for a small Kentucky high school. While the town worships him, I pray for God to take my life. He makes my life a living hell by making me his victim. This perverse game we play could end us both. How can something that feels so right be so wrong? The price if the truth is discovered is death, but I can’t stop. Neither can he. No one can know. Can I risk it? Is Roman King worth dying for? **This story is a m/m bully romance including dubious consent, assault, talk of suicide, and is intended for readers 18+. Please proceed with caution.**   Excerpt: “Jonah.” My name is growled. Roman grabs my shirt when I spin around and pulls me into a classroom with no lights on. Did he not hear the sermon? We can’t be caught together. Expecting to hit the wall, I stumble into the gloomy room with Roman shutting the door behind me. “What are you doing in here?” He doesn’t answer me, just grips my shirt again and pushes me against the wall where we won’t be seen by anyone walking past the door and he’s pressed against me. His lips are harsh and demanding against mine. He’s pissed off, but I’m too hurt by my father’s words to be angry yet. It’ll come, but right now, my heart is heavy and broken. Gripping his face, I kiss him back just as hard, frantic for his touch. My tongue duels with his and my teeth latch onto his lip. He growls, the rumble of it vibrating my chest. He’s pressed against me, mouth to thigh, and hard as steel. Blood pumps through my veins, filling my cock at his closeness. He reaches for my pants, and I break our kiss. “Roman,” I pant, my hands reaching for his wrists. “Why do you come here?” His question catches me off-guard. He’s still crowding me against the wall, his deep blue eyes searching my face for something, but it’s hard to think with him this close to me. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m a son of God.” Confusion leaves me open for his next assault. Roman’s lips crush mine, taking no prisoners. This kiss is hard, demanding, brutal. It’s exactly what I need. The pain, the desperation. I kiss him back just as hard, biting at his lips, sucking on his tongue, ravaging his mouth. My dick aches in my pants, hard, desperate for attention. Roman’s body moves against me, his dick just as hard behind his zipper. Reaching down, he grabs my leg and pulls it around his hip to get a better angle. His thick cock sliding against mine has my eyes rolling back into my head and he swallows my moan. My hands grip his shirt, pushing him away from me, forcing him to let go of my lips. We stand there for a long minute, panting, not saying anything. “We can’t do this here.” I’m finally able to get the words out. Roman smirks that damn look that says, “I can do whatever the fuck I want.” His hands cup my ass, forcing me to grind against him. My eyes close and a groan rumbles from my throat. “Stop,” I pant. “We can’t do this here. Not in the House of God. It’s sacrosanct. It’s wrong.” “Does it feel good, Jonah?” Roman lips brush against my ear. “My dick against yours?” “Yes,” I hiss through clenched teeth, pleasure overriding the common sense part of my brain. “Does it feel right? Me touching you like this?” His teeth nip at the skin of my neck. “Huh? Does this feel perverted? Does this feel like something you can just stop wanting?” Roman’s hand moves to the front of my pants once again, his palm pushing and stroking against my dick through my pants. My hips buck against him on instinct, wanting more. His lips drop to mine again, shutting down all logical thought. My hands move to his hair, pulling on the gold locks he wears so proudly.         About the Author: Sarcastic and snarky, I love to laugh and read dark fucked up shit. I write about tortured pasts and hot sex, a happily ever after that has to be worked for. My stories tend to be a little dark but with some comic relief, typically in the form of sarcasm. I like to dabble in a little of everything when it comes to stories. Romantic suspense, MM, a bit of erotica, with plans for Greek retellings, maybe some fairytale retellings, and some shifters. I write broken people who fight for their happily ever after, in all the many forms it takes. I married a sexy man in uniform who let me spawn and am now raising a mutinous army of hell raisers that I created myself, all while he defends our country. I drink too much coffee and am sexually frustrated for your freedom. If you see me online, I’m probably sitting in a closet, hiding from my kids. I have a ridiculous addiction to Archer, Sherlock, Supernatural, and The Big Bang Theory. I live my life spewing TV quotes and sarcasm. I’m a self confessed ass, not easily offended, and I love to laugh, almost as much as I love sleep. My laundry is rarely folded or put away and I have probably only showered once this week. I hate schedules and planning, I have calendars, planners, and my phone yet can’t remember anything. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep 3 kids alive but I really need to become an adultier adult. Connect w/Andi: Website: https://www.andijaxon.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andijaxonauthor Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/andiandajsjunkies Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/andijaxon Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorandijaxon Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17435346.Andi_Jaxon Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/andi-jaxon Amazon: https://amzn.to/35bPejB NL Signup: http://bit.ly/AndiJNewsletter  
Posted in Excerpt, Giveaways, Uncategorized

♥ Excerpt Reveal + Giveaway ♥Falling into You by A.L. Jackson ♥ #excerptreveal #giveaway

Falling into You
A Falling Stars stand-alone romance from A.L. Jackson
Coming September 21st


I swooped her up. She squealed in surprise, and then she wrapped her arms around my neck and melted into me.

I carried her into her room. The whole time, I kissed her slow and desperate.

She whimpered and sighed, that honeyed tongue playing and dancing and teasing against mine.

Strokes and licks.

Desire lapped and sizzled and flamed.

Growing in strength.

I only stopped long enough to shut her door and click the lock before I set her in the middle of her room. “Let me look at you.”

“I think you’ve been lookin’ at me all night,” she teased.

A rough chuckle curled up my chest. “Not possible to pay attention to anything else when I’ve got heaven staring back at me.”

Heat crept up her chest and splashed her cheeks.

Girl so fucking sexy and so fucking sweet.

“You wreck me, Violet. Absolutely destroy me.”

“You ruined me the first time you touched me.”

“Hope you’re good with me touchin’ you time and time again.” It came out a warning.

She breezed out the wisp of a sigh. “I’m just fine with you ripping me apart while you’re keeping me together.”

Lust burst in my blood. A dam breaking way and sweeping away all control.

Need overwhelming.

Crushing.

Guts tied up and body aching to get lost in this girl.

“Gonna devour every inch of that delicious body,” I muttered, voice scraping the heated air.

Energy banged against the walls.

Trembled underfoot.

“You better.” I heard it for what it was. A demand.

My hands drove into her hair, and I jerked her mouth against mine in a punishing kiss.

She returned it, this girl giving me her all.

My hands found her neck, and I rode them all the way down to tease at her nipples through the clingy fabric. “This dress. This fucking dress, Violet. You are killing me, baby. Can’t handle how bad I want you. Every second. Every day. Not ever gonna let you go.”

“That’s good because I won’t let you leave me.” She pushed her hands to my chest and ran them up under my jacket, shoving it from my shoulders. I twisted out of it and let it drop to the floor, my hands rushing back to grip her by the hips.

I tugged her against my throbbing cock. “Feel that? What you do to me?”

Violet whimpered, and she started jerking through the buttons on my shirt. “I want to feel it. Want to feel it all.”

Yes-fucking-please.


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"Gripping, passionate, romantic and suspenseful, Richard and Violet’s love story is perfectly imperfect. It's also everything I could hope for and a whole lot more!!!!"
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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, FALLING INTO YOU, releasing September 21st.


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.


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★★EXCERPT REVEAL★★ The Anti_Boyfriend by Penelope Ward

Title: The Anti-Boyfriend
Author: Penelope Ward
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: August 31, 2020
Blurb
From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new standalone novel.
At first, my neighbor Deacon frustrated me.
Sure, he was great-looking and friendly.
But our walls were thin, and on occasion, he’d bring women to his place and keep me awake while he “entertained” them.
As a single mother to an infant, I didn’t appreciate it.
So, finally it was my turn.
When my daughter wouldn’t stop wailing one night, Mr. Manwhore came knocking on my door.

Miraculously, at the sound of his voice, Sunny stopped crying. And when he held her…she eventually fell asleep in his arms.
Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer.
After that night, we became friends.
He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff.
But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer.
Until one night we crossed the line.
Our friendship turned into a complicated mess.
I’d gone and fallen for a guy who’d sworn off commitment and kids.
I knew Deacon was starting to care for me too, even though Sunny and I didn’t fit into any plan he’d ever imagined for himself.
He was wrong for me—so wrong that I’d dubbed him the “anti-boyfriend.”
Then why did I wish more than anything that I could be the one woman to change him?
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Excerpt
Copyright © 2020
By Penelope Ward
Today, just as I got back to my door, Deacon was exiting his apartment.
“Oh, hey, Carys-Like-Paris. How goes it?” He flashed a wide smile.
When people ask me my name, for some stupid reason, I sometimes answer, “Carys, like Paris,” particularly when I’m nervous. That was the case the first time I met Deacon.
A whiff of his amazing smell put my body on alert. He looked handsome as always. Today he wore a camel-colored suede coat with a shearling collar. His blue eyes, which stood out against his tanned skin, glimmered under the fluorescent lights overhead, which also brought out the copper tint to his otherwise medium-brown hair. He was at least six-foot-two—a beanstalk to my five-foot-four self.
This was my opportunity to bring up last night. But now that he was right here, towering over me, his musky smell saturating the air, I seemed to have lost the words. Still, I was determined to speak up now or never.
My heartbeat accelerated. Here goes. Still out of breath from my sprint up the stairs, I said, “Well, honestly, in answer to your question… I’d love to say I’m doing great, but I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. So, I’ve been better.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Actually, it’s sort of your fault.”
Deacon’s forehead crinkled. “My fault?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if you realize this, but your bed is right up against mine, on the opposite side of the wall. Your…interactions…last night woke me up, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep.”
Boom.
There.
Said it.
Deacon closed his eyes momentarily. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were right behind me.”
“Yeah. It’s basically like I’m…right there.”
“Well, that was rude of me. I should’ve invited you to join.”
What? It felt like all my blood rushed to my head.
He held out his palms. “I’m kidding. Bad sense of humor comes out when I feel awkward, I guess.”
Slipping a piece of my hair behind my ear, I brushed off his comment. “I know you’re kidding.”
“Totally kidding.” He smiled. “But I’ll try to be more considerate now that I know you can hear everything. You should’ve said something.”
I tilted my head. “How exactly would that have worked? Barging in on two naked people? That’s why I’m saying something now.”
“Solid point. But I take it last night wasn’t the first time you overheard things?”
I looked down at my feet. “No, it wasn’t.”
“You could’ve banged on the wall or something.”
“I’m not one to rudely interrupt someone’s…personal happenings. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. We don’t need to discuss it further.”
“Maybe we should come up with a code.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, If I’m disturbing your peace, you play a song and crank it up to send me a message.” He snapped his fingers. “Something ironic like ‘The Sounds of Silence’ by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Can’t exactly crank up a song when a baby is sleeping.”
His smile faded. “See? That goes to show you how clueless I am. Clueless and so sorry, Carys. Truly. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
“It better not, fuckboy!” a voice shouted from behind one of the apartment doors.
Deacon and I turned around in unison. I noticed Mrs. Winsbanger’s door move across the hall. The old lady must have been listening in. She lived alone, and I often spotted her peeking out her door, spying on people.
Deacon grimaced. “Mrs. Winsbanger loves me.”
“Apparently I’m not the only one who overheard things last night,” I said.
His face turned red. His embarrassment was a bit surprising. I’d expected him to be more cocky.
“I’ll move my bed to the other side of the room. That should help.”
“Well, that would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not.”
Happy to have the conversation over with, I let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll let you get going.”
He didn’t budge and seemed to be examining my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem frazzled.”
Well, yeah. I didn’t get good sleep, I’m trying to get things done in possibly the only hour of the day I have free, and we just had the most awkward conversation EVER.
“This is just me—my life. I have what could be barely more than an hour to eat my lunch and have some quiet time before my daughter wakes up from her nap.”
“Ah.” He scratched his chin. “How old is she now?”
“Six months.”
Deacon knew I was a single mom. He’d run into me one day and helped me bring groceries in while I tried to juggle Sunny and her stroller.
I was just about to head back inside my apartment when his voice stopped me.
“Do you need anything?”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. “Like what?”
“Something from the store? A…coffee, maybe? I’m just headed out to run a quick errand, but I can stop somewhere on the way back.”
“It’s the least you can do, monkey balls!” Mrs. Winsbanger chimed in from across the hall.
She was apparently still listening.
“Did she just fucking call me monkey balls?” he whispered.
At that moment, I lost it. Laughter got a hold of me, and it took almost a minute before I could even speak. Deacon laughed, too, but I think he was more cracking up at my reaction.
“No idea why she just called you monkey balls. But I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks.”
After I finally calmed down, Deacon repeated his earlier question.
“Anyway, as I was saying, can I get you a coffee or something?”
His offer gave me pause. It was rare that anyone asked if I needed anything. I had a couple of good friends in the city, but they worked and had busy social lives. It wasn’t like they were around in the middle of the day to run to the store for me. And given that it was fall in New York, it was getting chilly out. I had to have a damn good reason to take Sunny out in the cold.
Honestly, I was dying for a latte from Starbucks. Running to the coffee shop was definitely something people without babies took for granted. It wasn’t worth having to bundle Sunny up.
“I would love a vanilla latte from Starbucks, if you pass one on your way back,” I finally said.
“Done.” He smiled. “That’s it?”
“Just one pump of vanilla would be great.”
“One pump. Got it. Anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough? It’s hardly a necessity. I shouldn’t be taking advantage.”
“Take advantage of me. What else do you need? Seriously. It’s the least I can do after disturbing your peace last night.”
Take advantage of me. Yup. Mind straight in the gutter. “You’re not my gopher.”
“Carys….” His baritone voice turned serious, and he repeated in a slow and exaggerated manner, “What. Do. You. Need? I could run to the store.”
There was something else I desperately needed.
“Diapers?” I said hesitantly.
“Okay.” He laughed. “You’re gonna have to help me out with those. I’ve never purchased them in my life.”
Before I could tell him what size, he handed me his phone. I was all too aware of the brief touch of his hand.
“Enter your digits. I’ll text you from the store to make sure I get the right kind.”
I did as he said before handing him back the phone, once again enjoying the contact from that brief exchange. Cheap thrills were as good as it got these days.
He put it in his pocket. “Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, you can let me know when I text.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Talk to ya in a bit,” he said before heading down the hall.
I stood by my door and watched him walk away. The view from the back was just as good as the front. And moreover, it seemed Deacon was just as lovely on the inside as he was on the outside.
“One pump my ass,” I heard Mrs. Winsbanger say before she slammed her door.
Author Bio
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
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★RESTRAINT by Adriana Locke is coming August 3rd to KU!!★

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RESTRAINT by Adriana Locke

Release Date: August 3rd (Amazon & KU

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Blurb:

Blaire Gibson knows better than to have one-night stands.

She prides herself on her decision-making skills. It’s the one asset that has never let her down. But even the best thinkers have weaknesses. Hers is a delicious business mogul with a quick tongue. Unfortunately for her, that tongue is good for more than just talking.

Holt Mason doesn’t need to justify anything to anyone.

He wants Blaire. He pursues Blaire. And he gets Blaire because that’s how his life works.

Until it doesn’t.

What begins as a single night in a hotel room spirals into an unusual agreement. As late nights provide the space to trade secrets and walls come tumbling down, more is shared than just pillow talk.

They both should’ve known better. They should’ve shown restraint. Because when guards are dropped, hearts get hurt.

*RESTRAINT is a brand-new standalone romance from USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke.

Excerpt:

There’s a look in his eye, something behind the brazen façade, that intrigues me. I haven’t given a man more than a dirty look in longer than I can remember. Who has the time? Who has the energy? Who wants to deal with that bullshit?

But as I stand on the porch of this beautiful home in the middle of a perfect southern evening, I remember Sienna’s instruction to enjoy my vacation.

“You don’t know enough about me to be right,” I volley back, continuing the banter because I can’t help myself.

“I disagree.” He shifts his weight, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll tell you three things about you besides the obvious. If I’m right, you’ll go to dinner with me.”

I think this over. I didn’t tell him anything about me, not even my name. There’s no way he can actually come up with one thing, let alone three, that’s deep enough to warrant a dinner date.

If nothing else, it’ll be a fun little experiment and a chance for me to prove that men don’t know everything.

“Fine,” I say. “But you have to impress me. Hair color, eye color—those types of things don’t count.”

He grins. “Absolutely not. There’s no fun in that.”

“All right. Shoot.”

“Your name is Blaire,” he says, catching me off guard. “You like gummy bears but feel like it’s a childish thing to enjoy, so you try to be discreet about your obsession. You prefer the red ones and hate the green ones. You like shopping but hate spending loads of money on things you think are a waste.”

My jaw almost hits the floor.

“And,” he says, taking a step closer to me, “you don’t date because you don’t have time. You also find men to be barbaric, adolescent creatures which, may I add, I find offensive.”

“How could you possibly know all that?” I demand.

The heat rolling off his body clamors into me, upping the beat of my heart tenfold. I hate my reaction to him and I hate even more than I can’t control it.

“Lincoln said your name. You dropped the candy from your purse in the airport and I just happened to notice you had it hidden in a little pouch. All the red ones were gone and it was chock full of the green. Your lipstick was a type my mother uses, so I know it’s expensive as hell,

but your earbuds earlier weren’t a name brand so I put together you don’t value them as much.”

“I just lose them constantly,” I say, still sorting his observations.

“And now you lost our bet. Ready to go?”

My summer dress billows in the breeze, reminding me, once again, I’m not home.

This wouldn’t be like a dinner with a man I see regularly or could even see regularly if I wanted to. He lives almost a thousand miles from me.

What could one dinner hurt?

“Fine,” I say, stepping around him. “But I’m driving.”

About the Author:

USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.

She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.

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★Excerpt Reveal ★ Seducing The Enemy by Shayla Black★

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Once he takes his pound of flesh from her, will she steal his heart?

I’m Jett, self-made billionaire.

I have everything I could ever want—except revenge.

Eight years ago, my best friend and I planned to start a business together…

Until I fell for his little sister.

After he found out, he stole my idea and made a fortune.

She took his side and stabbed me in the back.

Now he’s in financial straits, while I’m richer than I ever dreamed.

So I made Whitney a bargain: forty million dollars in exchange for a week of her body.

But now that she’s in my bed, what if it’s not animosity I feel?

What if I fall for her again?

SEDUCED BY THE ENEMY

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“What’s your offer?” she demands.

“In a hurry? Why don’t we have a drink? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

She scoffs. “Let’s not pretend I matter to you.”

I raise a brow at Whitney. She does matter…but admitting that would only weaken my position. “Humor me. After all, it’s my forty million dollars.”

“Fine.” She lifts one delicate shoulder like she doesn’t care, but I can read her. On some level, I get to her and she hates that. “Vodka cranberry. Make it a double.”

I acknowledge her with a curt nod, then I motion to the bartender, who takes our order.

“You’re not drinking with me?” She scowls.

“I never drink.” I haven’t since that summer.

Whitney’s gaze probes me for a long moment. “Because you’re a control freak?”

You have no idea.

I smile. “You can call me names and divert the subject all day. That doesn’t change why we’re here.”

“So you’re going to lend Vance forty million dollars to save his company—”

“Which should have been our company.”

“You lost that lawsuit.”

“Because your brother is a lying, thieving snake.” And you helped him, didn’t you?

She arches her dark brow at me. “Is all this charm how you’ve become so successful?”

Life has apparently roughed up my sweet princess and given her a stronger spine. I like it.

Breaking her will definitely be more fun.

“No. I’m successful because I’m ruthless.”

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of nearly than eighty novels. For over twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eleven years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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🌟Excerpt Reveal 🌟Thoroughly Whipped by Tillie Cole #excerpt reveal #tilliecole #hysterical #mustread

 

 

 

I, Faith Parisi, love my life. I have the best job—resident sex-advice diva for Visage magazine—I have the best friends, and I live in the best city in the world. Things are pretty damn fabulous. That is, until Henry “Harry” Sinclair III comes crashing back into my world like a bad case of herpes.
I hate the way Harry’s lip curls in contempt whenever he sees me. I hate his bright blue eyes and those inexplicably offensive dimples. I hate his stuffy English accent and the stick that’s permanently jammed up his aristocratic ass. More than anything, I hate that he’s now my boss.
But my professional prospects start to look up when a chance at writing Visage’s big summer feature falls into my lap. Success won’t be easy. I’ll need to let go of all my inhibitions—not that I have that many of those—and jump, stiletto heels first, into a hedonistic new world. An exclusive, secretive world, filled with leather, latex, and Manhattan’s elite.
Pulling this off will take every ounce of daring I have, and every ounce of focus. I can’t afford to get distracted by anything, least of all my new boss, his arrogant mouth, or the way the ice between us seems to be slowly melting away…

 

Genre: Romantic ~ Comedy

 

“Holy shit,” Novah whispered, leaning into me. “Little boy blue blood is all grown up!”

I rolled my eyes. “You do realize he’s only a year older than you, right?”

“I’ve only seen him in pictures, Faith. Unlike some, I haven’t been graced with the younger duke’s company before this moment. Let me bask in his mighty presence.”

“He’s not a duke yet. That happens when his old man kicks it and passes down the title. And nobody is graced with that dick’s presence. He’s arrogant and so rich it’s made him beyond stupid, and he walks with a permanent pole shoved up his ass. Il duko has no redeeming qualities whatsoever,” I snapped and folded my arms across my chest to exaggerate my point.

The object of our musings hovered in the doorway to the conference room. He was conversing with Sally, our editor, and Henry Sinclair II, his father. Or, as his father was better known, King. Apparently, it was quite the amusing nickname among the British elite. Oh, how they must have chortled at the “cheeky” reference to their most famous royals. But to us, his American working-class worker bees, calling himself King Sinclair just made him sound like an entitled douchebag, too full of his own importance.

“Well I, for one, wouldn’t mind delving into those khakis the duke trainee wears so well and deep fishing for said pole in his pert, tight posterior, if you know what I mean.”

I took hold of Novah’s arm and met her eyes with my most serious expression. “It’s irremovable, Novah. That pole is wedged in deep, like oil-rig deep. You’ll need a fucking crane to hoist it out. A crane, Novah.”

Novah waved her hand in front of her face. “Jeez, Faith. Even that image has my thighs clenching.” She whistled low. “I could never be that close to his peach of a tush. I’d end up biting his firm, toned, polo-playing cheek. I know I would. Or at least give it a swift lick. I’m better off keeping my distance so as to not be arrested.”

“You’re sick.” I smirked as she crossed her legs tightly.

“I never claimed otherwise.”

“Right, minions!” Sally shouted, standing at the front of the room. The staff grew silent. Our editor clapped her hands with impressive speed. She forced a smile. It wasn’t a good look on her. She appeared constipated whenever she attempted “friendly.” Or as though she were battling a mild-to-medium case of hemorrhoids.

“Today’s a big day here at Visage.”

I held my breath, waiting for more, dread seeping into the very marrow of my bones. My skin itched in irritation seeing Henry “Harry” Sinclair III stepping out from behind his father. No, I prayed, hands lowering into a death grip on the arms of my chair. I looked up toward the heavens. God, I know we’re not always on the best of terms. I drink, cuss, and enjoy fornicating far too much for your liking, but please, please, please, do not say he is here for—

“As you may have heard, Mr. King Sinclair is slowly taking a step back from the running of HCS Media Group and focusing solely on his British investments. He is still very much ‘in charge’ on the global stage, but he has decided to start delegating the US enterprises to his son, Henry Sinclair Junior.”

I closed my eyes and felt Novah’s hand grip my thigh at this revelation. “So today I have the great pleasure to welcome Henry as the new CEO of Visage Magazine and the New York Journal and everything that falls under that impressive umbrella.” The people in the conference room broke out into somewhat enthusiastic applause, and I reluctantly opened my eyes. I’d hoped if I kept them closed, this would somehow turn out to be a bad dream. But as soon as I opened them, my gaze railroaded right into Henry’s or, as I liked to call him, the eternally entitled ball-sack.

Fuck my life. What had we mere mortals done in the world to deserve three of these Henry Sinclair jerks on the planet? His father was an asswipe of the highest order, and I’d heard the grandfather, who’d created the empire, had been the worst kind of human being. His grandson had apparently followed suit. Henry didn’t smile at me. His nostrils flared and his lip curled up. I wasn’t sure if he was silently passing gas or exposing the fact that he disliked me as much as I disliked him.

King Sinclair nudged his son from his malevolent reverie. Henry pulled his hands from his pockets, nodded curtly, and instantly became the leader I was sure he had been molded to be since birth. “Good morning, I’m Henry Sinclair, but please call me Harry. Only my teachers ever called me Henry.” He smirked a little at that. I blinked slowly in confusion. I had never seen him smile. This was a barely-there smile and, no matter how brief it was, it indicated Harry wasn’t always the dour bastard he appeared to be.

“I know most of you have never met me, but I’ve been living between New York and England for the past few years and am extremely happy to be taking over here at the New York Journal and therefore, of course, Visage.” Visage was the in-house style magazine, which went out every Sunday along with the Journal’s other Sunday offerings. The in-house magazines of such prestigious newspapers had always been considered the ugly stepsisters in the world of newspaper publishing, but I loved it here. Always had…until, I feared, now.

 
Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.
After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.
Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.
Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.
When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesn’t need that extra square of chocolate.
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