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Drink Wine and Be Beautiful
-- EXCERPT: Snake Charmers and Donkey Carts Marrakech THE HAWKERS’ CRIES FILLED THE SQUARE, the guttural sounds of Arabic throbbing in Manuela’s ears. All around her, men yelled out in that strange language. Men were everywhere. They brushed past her in the marketplace crowds, and she shrank back. Unfamiliar smells filled the air. She clung to Adriano’s hand as they walked through the Jemaa el-Fna square, willing herself not to cry. A cobra reared up his ugly head, its black tongue flickering, only a few feet from where she stood. She bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming. The snake swayed from side to side as the snake charmer played music on his pipe. A fat man in dirty robes approached her with another snake, trying to wrap it around her neck. She stumbled backward, afraid she might faint, but thankfully Adriano was pulling her away, toward the dark, labyrinthine streets of the souk. Here she would do battle with the scooters and the donkey carts, but at least there were no snake charmers poised to place a slimy, wriggling serpent around her neck in exchange for coins. Manuela breathed in deeply. It was all too much. The blood coursed through her veins at double-speed. Her heart pounded in fear and revulsion. She leaned in closer to Adriano, his comforting solidity managing to calm her and provide her with the courage she lacked in this odd city. “Min fadlak,” said a robed man, indicating his wares. Manuela instinctively shrunk from his attentions, but Adriano stepped closer, examining the delicate lamps shining in the dark marketplace. Their intricate patterns cast colorful, elaborate illuminations through inky night sky. Even she could recognize its mystic beauty. “Kam else’er?” said Adriano. The two men began haggling over the price, and Manuela stood silently, a spectator to the show. Life was a spectacle here, but one she took no pleasure in observing. Three days into her holiday in Marrakech, Manuela felt only anxious and confused. The streets were too narrow. She had to remain vigilant not to step in the droppings left behind after the donkey carts passed. There were too many people pressed too closely together. People stood so close when they spoke to you. Adriano told her it was rude to step back, but she couldn’t help herself. The yells in Arabic sounded harsh and threatening to her ears. The sights and sounds, the colors and smells were too exotic. Manuela could only relax when they returned to their riad in the evening, though even there she could not completely escape the lingering sense of foreignness. The wooden keyhole doors were too small, and she kept bumping her head on their frame. The sweet smell of spices filled the apartment with a cloying scent she was unable to banish, even after opening the windows for long periods of time in the hopes of airing the room. She would step into the shower and rinse the city’s dirt and grime from her body, before enveloping her skin in a soft robe. When Adriano pushed her gently down to the bed, a sense of familiarity would calm her, and she could temporarily forget all about the stresses of this chaotic city. Yet each morning she felt drained and exhausted once again, unable to face another day, desperate to return home, where things were safe and familiar. She longed to hear Italian spoken in the squares, to enter a restaurant and know that familiar foods were on the menu, to be capable of conversing with the shopkeepers. To belong. But what could she do? Adriano seemed to thrive in this new environment. He craved exotic places. Where had he learned to count in Arabic? He and the hawker were aggressively shouting figures back and forth, and she saw the spark of excitement in Adriano’s eyes. For her, this city was hell on earth. For him, an exotic tale out of Arabian Nights. She breathed in deeply once again, attempting to quell the panic attack she could feel working its way through her body. The hawkers came closer with their oils and their soaps and their leather slippers. She closed her eyes and suppressed the desire to scream. Back home, her days were spent cutting through the red tape of property purchases in Tivoli and placating demanding clients. Her hard-earned vacation was supposed to relax her, not cause greater stress. She’d begged Adriano to go back to the Sardinian resort they’d visited this past spring, with its well-designed bungalows, soft, white sand beaches, perfectly ordered rows of umbrellas and beach chairs, and crystalline waters beckoning just before them. Just smelling the salt air caused a sense of well-being to wash over her body. She’d thought Adriano would book the tickets for the resort, as they discussed. It was charged to her account, after all. Instead, he stopped off at her house with two tickets to Marrakech. “You’re going to love it,” he said, kissing her on the neck. “It will be an adventure. I swear, you’ll never want to come back to Italy.” She sighed. Not wanting to return to Italy wasn’t the problem. It was Morocco where she never wished to set foot again. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Hidden Justice
Broken Promises
-- EXCERPT: Hidden Justice In this excerpt our main character, Justice Parish, has been informed via email that the mission she’s worked on for years is being delayed for another two years. Furious, she charges into the Spy Makers Guild office to confront the boss of The Guild––her adopted mother, Mukta Parish. Justice Head full of steam, I march through the Parish empire’s headquarters in Philadelphia blowing past sharp corridors, glass walls, and attractive businesspeople in power suits. I won’t let Momma put my mission on hold. I don’t care about a few complications. This is our best chance to take down a global trafficking ring. We find a way. I near Momma’s office and her executive assistant—straitlaced Lorena of the cotton button-downs and starched pantsuits—blocks my path to the closed mahogany doors. She crosses her arms. “She’s busy.” Huh. A human barricade. Good thing I’ve been trained for such an event. I run straight at her. She cries out for me to stop and holds her ground. Kind of what I wanted. Veering left, I lift my booted foot, plant the arch against the edge of Lorena’s desk, toe into a leap, and vault over her. She ducks and cries out. Instant classic. I land with a thud. “Thanks, Lorena,” I say, pulling open the office door. She’s still sputtering vague threats as I close the door with a click. The satisfied grin slips from my face. Momma isn’t alone. The man—built like a hot night of unforgettable, wild blond hair like a sandstorm, eyes the color of the ocean after a lazy day in the sun, and beach-bronzed skin—drives the air from my lungs. Come on, give a lady a warning. I’m used to finding stodgy business-type people in Momma’s office. Everyone, including blondie, is staring at me, expecting me to say or do something. Like a deer caught in beautiful blinding blue headlights, I stare at the man. I’m usually more successful at hiding my feelings, trained in it and all. But this high-pressure situation—Jack-be-nimbling Lorena, barging into a business meeting, and finding this perfect hot stranger—has me off my game. Sandesh Hearing the administrative assistant’s loud objection and the thud of something I can’t puzzle out I go from corner-office mode to time-to-take-someone-down mode. A woman burst through the doors. First thought: I hope I do have to take her down because that body underneath me would make my day. Second thought: Sucks to be wearing a damn monkey suit. Third thought as her eyes sweep my body: There are no thoughts. Her mischievous dark gaze and the fan and flutter of those thick eyelashes swallow every decent thought from my mind, replacing them with open desire. -- Broken Promises In this excerpt, Fee’s long lost love has returned home for her mother’s funeral. She’s in an emotionally difficult place—blaming herself for her mother’s death. Brooks is trying to comfort her, rescue her from her own harsh criticism. Fee felt the warmth of Brooks’ hand reaching toward her, as if to coax her head up, but he didn’t touch her. She lifted her chin. A knuckle of skin was pinched between his creased brows. “Why are you so hard on yourself?” She was being hard on herself? “I’m being honest.” He should try being in her head for two seconds. “You can try it. I won’t break. Trust me, you can tell me whatever you think about me.” She kept her eyes pinned to him, open, inviting, and waiting. Drawing in a deep breath, he reached forward, swept his finger lightly across her forehead, down her cheek. His touch, electric and warm, sizzled through her with breathtaking speed. His pupils dilated. “Querida, you are a song that my heart never stopped singing. And when I’m with you, the music is everywhere.” The rich tone of his voice caressed her senses. Warm delight prickled her skin. She’d meant mean stuff. Kind stuff… well, she had no defense for that. But she would not cry. Not in front of him. But maybe something else… Tiptoeing, she did something that, an hour ago, would’ve seemed unforgivable. She lifted her face to his and kissed him. She’d intended to catch and release, but the second she met his smooth, full lips the need that had been burning in her for eight long years erupted. She fisted his shirt, pushed her tongue boldly through his wet lips and into his warm mouth. A surprised pause was followed by him gently tugging her hands from his shirt. She let go, put her arms around his neck, and held him in place. So good. So Brooks. So long denied. The hot heavy length of desire unfurled inside her and she disappeared into that need. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her closer. Their low sighs and grinding bodies left no doubt what would happen next if they kept it up. Maybe that’s what she wanted. Maybe, forgetting this way would be best. He pulled back. “Fee…” Catching his breath, he disentangled her arms from his neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sort of seeing someone.” Oh, my God. She snatched her hands from inside his. Of course, he was. He was a beautiful man. Kind and… beautiful and… Oh, my God. She covered her hot cheeks with her hands. Why hadn’t she asked? Why had she just assumed it was okay to kiss him? “No. I’m sorry. I…” His eyes filled with regret and maybe pity. Two things she frantically didn’t want to see. She didn’t know where to look. She snatched the coat he still held in his hand. “Let’s go.” She raced down the hall into the foyer, head spinning. Brooks caught up to her and grasped her arm. “Fee. Wait. Please.” She pulled away. Held up her hand. Shook her head. That motion, along with the overwhelming scent of rose and lily condolence flowers, flipped her stomach. “I can’t, Brooks. Whatever it is you need to say about that kiss, about the woman you’re dating, about us….” She willed her voice not to break. “Not today. Let just go. Okay?” 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #The Highlander's Enchantress by Violetta Rand #Historical Romance @Xpresso Book Tours29/5/2023
The Highlander’s Enchantress
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: He tugged their joined hands onto his lap so she had to turn and face him again. “Live.” “Live?” “Thrive.” “Aye.” She seemed to understand now. “Prosper, regardless of yer circumstances. What better way to spit in the bastard’s eye?” She rewarded him with a soul-warming smile—soul-stealing, really. Pretty white teeth, each one a precious pearl, and perfectly formed lips stole his attention. And the sound of her tinkling laughter… He was doomed. Cast into the pits of agony because this untouchable—forbidden—woman stirred something inside him that had long been dormant. Perhaps never there before. There were dozens of local lasses worthy of his affection and respect, but they all paled in comparison to this striking woman. She was fire and ice, sunlight and moonlight, sweet and bitter, and any other paradox his addled mind could create. “Why are ye staring at me?” she asked, appearing uncomfortable. “I hold ye in the highest esteem, lass—yer tenacity and iron will to survive.” Again, her features softened at his words. Aye, he’d have to tread carefully with this one. She missed little if anything. If only he could reach out and caress her cheek—provide comfort and reassurance with tender kisses. For a brief moment he forgot himself and leaned closer, his mouth hovering just above hers. Adam’s heartbeat intensified, and his mind swirled with anticipation of what she would taste like. What it would feel like to hold her in his arms? But as their gazes clashed, he remembered her words, how men always wanted something… Damn it, she was beautiful and smelled so lovely and looked so perfect. Be the honorable man ye were raised to be…
GIVEAWAY! --
Crashers
-- Only 99¢ for a limited time! -- EXCERPT: For KXXX TV and KXXX AM Radio News, this is Katie Carlson with your mid-morning eye-in-the-sky traffic report, and it’s an easy one: It’s messed up EVERYWHERE! So far, the 405 South is backed up all the way to the 101. So, if you are going into Hollywood this morning, you are going to be late for that audition. Also, there is an injury crash on the Eastbound 10. So, if you are heading into downtown LA, you might want to bring a magazine or get some knitting done. If you are going to LAX, forget it, call mom back east and tell her you will be driving out instead. Just Kidding! Any way, this is Katie Carlson with the Los Angeles mid-morning traffic report. Enjoy your commute everybody, NOT! * * * As the blare of the clock radio on the night table jolted her awake, Shari Barnes rubbed her eyes, blew her long brown hair out of her face, and snuggled into Nathan Townsend’s chest. She curled her body around his middle and took a deep whiff of his salty, masculine neck. But she couldn’t ignore the voice on the radio. “Monday morning traffic,” she sighed. Nathan matched the sigh and put his arms around her. “At least you don’t have to drive over the hill.” “Yeah, I would just die if I had to drive into Beverly Hills every day to work in a beautiful office.” Shari giggled and disappeared under their thick blue comforter for a few more moments of sleepy-headed bliss. She felt Nathan stretch up, and a moment later the radio shut off. Then he slid down next to her in the single bed they shared in their Studio City apartment, a few blocks north of Ventura Boulevard. The constant drone and rumble of another L.A. morning came clearly through the open window: cars honking, rock music blaring, the frantic scurrying sounds of the film shoot a few blocks away. Shari ran her bare feet up the inside of Nathan’s thigh. He jumped. “Shit, your feet are cold.” He pushed her legs off of him. “What time is it?” she murmured between kisses. “Um, seven.” He nuzzled her neck and she felt him becoming erect against her. “No time for that!” She threw off the covers. “Gotta be at work on time for once; gotta get my asp out of bed.” “There’s a snake in the bed?” Nathan grabbed her with both hands and gave her belly gentle nips. “Yeah, of the one-eyed variety.” Shari leaped to the floor and padded naked into the bathroom. She turned the hot water in the shower to high and stepped in, filling the small bathroom with steam. She had just poured a green drop of shampoo into her palm and was running her hands together when the flimsy yellow and white shower curtain flew back and Nathan grinned in at her. She smiled back, surprised by neither his arrival nor the partial hard-on that preceded him. “Mind if we join you?” he asked. “There’s enough shampoo for everybody,” Shari said as she rubbed her hands across her scalp. He stepped into the stall, pulled the curtain closed and began to lather her hair for her. She put her hands on his back, feeling the taut muscles and the water streaming there, but did not reach down between them. It took him about five seconds to realize it and hold her away. “You okay?” “Fine….” “Don’t lie; I can always tell when you have something on your mind.” “You know me better than I know me,” she said. “You know it.” He pushed her wet hair over her shoulders. “Come on, give.” “I was thinking maybe I should get a second job.” “You’re worrying about money again?” “Well, I have to shoot my student thesis film this year or I won’t graduate. But where am I going to get the money I need?” “How much do you need?” “At least five figures.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Some Day Soon
-- EXCERPT: “Don’t do that,” I say. “Don’t shut me out.” “Go away,” she warns. “No,” I say. “Talk to me, Sammy.” “I can’t!” she yells at me. I step toward her, lowering my voice as emotion threatens to crack my voice. “I can’t help if you keep fucking pushing me away.” “Stop it,” she spits the words. “I’m not going to leave you,” I say, holding onto her hands before she rips them away. “Nothing you say to me, nothing you do is going to convince me you aren’t worth it.” Her chest heaves as tears stream down her cheeks. Her lips are parted, ready to fight back, ready to tell me how wrong I am, how I won’t understand. This moment is do or die, leave it all on the table. I take another step toward her, and crush my lips against hers, showing her how I feel before I tell her. “I love you,” I pant against her lips. “I think I’ve loved you since the first day I met you when you wore white to my sister’s fucking wedding.” I laugh. “I fucking love you, Sammy girl. Don’t push me away. You can shut the world out. Just leave me in this one with you.” She leaves her forehead pressed against mine, our noses breathing in the smell of one another. “I can’t,” she whimpers, swallowing down the building emotion. “I can’t love you, Noah. I can’t risk losing you.” Her voice cracks with each word. My ears ring as though a bomb has detonated near us, and I guess, in some metaphorical sense, one has. “You lose all the fucking time when you push everyone away,” I say, my voice cracking under the pressure of each word. “Isn’t it worth trying to stay for once? To work through it rather than shut me out?” “I’ll never be what you need,” she says. “I’ll never be able to give myself to you completely, to trust you fully.” “Bullshit,” I snap. “It’s not bullshit. You made a mistake ever thinking you could change me.” She sighs before hammering the final nail in our coffin. Her eyes locked on mine full of honesty and meaning. “I was your biggest mistake. You’re just too stubborn to acknowledge it.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Curses and Chaos
-- EXCERPT: “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a rumble came from the dark recess of the doorway at my right, a familiar voice that should in no way be here. The athame in my hand was at Theo Acosta’s gut before I ever really gave my hand the command to move. Theo Acosta was the biggest pain in my ass, but unfortunately, I couldn’t get rid of him. As second in command of the Acosta pack, Theo had been in my business since the day we’d met. I’d managed to avoid him while in the middle of my little murder spree, but if he was here, the jig was up. “I’m looking for a job,” I quipped, tilting my head to the side like I was a little soft in the head. I mean, we were in a strip club, after all. “The ABI can’t pay all the bills, you know.” That was a bald-faced lie, but given my glamour and outfit, it sure as shit looked like the truth. How he could see through said glamour was a little concerning, but I couldn’t think about that right then. He gripped my wrist as he plucked the blade from my fingers like he was taking it away from a toddler, moving into the harsh illumination of the club’s neon mood lighting. He’d gotten a haircut since the time I’d seen him last. His usual shoulder-length locks were cropped close to his head in the back and left a little longer in the front highlighting his strong jaw and fabulous cheekbones. It suited him, the bastard. I’d never met someone so pretty and so shitty all at the same time. “Bullshit, Jacobs. You’re up to something.” The green of his wolf lit in his eyes, showing me just how pissed off he was. “You’re always up to something.” In two and a half years, Theo hadn’t trusted me one bit—not that I’d given him a reason not to. He had some beef with all witches—Wren excluded—so him warming up to me just wasn’t going to happen. The rest of the Acostas loved me. Mari and I painted our nails together. Dayana and I shared dessert recipes. And his mama? She adored me. But Theo? No such luck. “Of course, I’m up to something, you dope. I’m trying to get enough power to break the Fae in your dungeon, or did you forget about him while you were being so judgy? So why don’t you go home, mind your business, and I’ll get the answer to all our problems, mm-kay Pumpkin?” Those green eyes narrowed to slits as his jaw solidified. “Eleven witches are missing, Jacobs. No one has found the bodies, but I know they’re dead. You planning a takeover? Expanding the coven for dear, old daddy?” I ripped my wrist out of his hold as well as the blade. “No, you moron. I’m getting enough power to make that Fae do what we need him to do before Nico decides to get himself killed. How many packs would love to take over Savannah, hmm? Five? Ten? And how well will your pack fare without a true Alpha when they come? How long do you think Nico will hold on without Wren?” “Bull—” The tip of my athame was at his throat in a blink. “No coven will help me—help us,” I hissed. “And no, I didn’t ask my daddy for help because the last thing we need is Josiah Jacobs in Savannah.” 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #French Quarter Flirt (Broussard Brothers 2) by Melissa Chambers @Xpresso Book Tours27/5/2023
French Quarter Flirt
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: He started to walk away, but she took him by the biceps. They were becoming familiar with one another’s bodies with the dancing and the feigning of their relationship. “What do you want? Pretend all obstacles are out of your way. You can have anything you want. What is it?” He searched her eyes, concentrating on her hard. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him this serious. She knew he had the potential to be serious, because he was a lawyer. But the Garrett she knew was all fun and games pretty much all the time. This Garrett was new to her. This Garrett intrigued her. “I want…” She could see his mind whirling, his lips begging to speak the words, but he was holding back. Then something in his face changed, and she could see his resolve waning. He slipped one hand behind her back and the other under her legs and before she knew what was happening, he was carrying her down the beach toward the ocean. “Garrett, what the hell?” “You asked what I wanted. I want to throw your ass in the ocean.” “Garrett,” she said on a laugh, because he couldn’t be serious right now. “Garrett, put me down. I mean it.” “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to throw you in Lake Pontchartrain?” “This is an ongoing obsession?” “Absolutely.” They approached the shore and he jostled her, getting a better grip on her. A strong wave rushed at Garrett’s ankles, but he didn’t move out of the way. “You’re getting your good shoes all wet. You probably need to wear those tomorrow night.” “If you think I’m bothered by a little ocean water in my shoes, then you don’t know me at all.” She clasped her fingers together at the back of his neck, feeling like a girl half her size. Savannah had lived in a big body her whole life, and here was this man picking her up like she was a waif. “Well, if you think I won’t be bothered by being submerged in freezing cold ocean water in this dress and these shoes I do want to wear again, you don’t know me at all.” “I’ll go in with you.” “That makes it so much better,” she said, pursing her lips at him. “Come on, Sanderson, do something wild with me.” As Savannah gazed into Garrett’s dancing eyes, she understood one thing all too clearly. Whatever he was selling, she was buying. She kicked off her shoes. “If you’re game, I’m game.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Let’s take the plunge.”
GIVEAWAY! --
The Keeper
-- EXCERPT (Book 1): “Victoria,” a sultry, baritone voice revealed my name. I stilled. Its tone washed over me, quickening my pulse. Taking a deep breath, I glanced to my left. Getting caught up in Xavier’s heated blue stare was not something I thought would happen tonight, or ever again for that matter. Dressed in gray pants and a white button down shirt, he stood with his arms crossed. The sleeves were rolled up to expose his defined forearms. And more tattoos, just like he’d hinted at. He was motionless except for the subtle way his ring-clad thumb stroked his lower lip. He didn’t wear a tie and the shirt remained unbuttoned at the top, but my assumption that he’d look hot in a suit, or some variation of it, was correct. I finished the rest of my bourbon in one swallow and put the empty glass down. “Nice to see you again,” Xavier said with a sly grin. “Alright, wait a bleeding second,” Cade interjected. “How do you—” His eyes widened. “This is the one from the pub, isn’t it? The one that got you all hot and bothered.” Bennet draped his arm over Cade’s shoulders. “How about you and me go downstairs for a drink.” Without waiting for a reply, Bennet guided him to the stairs, where they disappeared down into the crowd. “You seemed pretty involved in your conversation with those two.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Did I miss anything good?” “Not as good as what just walked into the room.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Hitting on him wasn’t an option. Or maybe it was. Yep. It definitely was. I’d blame it on the bourbon but that was a lame ass cop-out. He was hot and I felt more than a little frisky. “I see.” He slid his hands into his pockets and before I knew it, stood inches away from me. He smelled so good. Not of cologne or body spray or any of the manufactured crap some men seem to think they need. Just soap, shampoo and him. His scent reminded me of the outdoors. Fresh and earthy, like vetiver. “Shouldn’t you be doing the rounds with your friends?” I asked. “Not necessary.” “Are you a soccer player too?” “Soccer,” he mimicked with a grin. “Yes. I play football.” I bit my lip to stifle a laugh at his correction. He leaned toward me, invading my personal space the way a five star general crosses enemy lines, with precision and a healthy serving of arrogance. I was essentially caged between him and the railing. It took quite a bit of effort not to slide my fingers up his chest and unbutton the rest this shirt. Or tear it open and watch all the buttons scatter. “Did you come here with someone tonight?” he asked. “Like a date?” “Yes, like a date.” “No.” “Lucky me.” A mischievous smile pulled at his lips. “Guess that means we’re on a date now. Or at least picking up where our last date left off.” “Hardly. I’m not so sure you’re my type.” “I’m everyone’s type.” “I’m not everyone.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Neptune’s Window: First Glance
-- EXCERPT (Book 1): Demanding spirits barged their way into Aries’s mind, each voice trying to outdo the other. For a moment they went away, allowing her to bask in the silence. But as soon as she took a step toward the school, their clamor started back up. Aries ran behind a row of palm trees, shielding herself from streams of cars and pedestrians as the high-pitched aggravation attacked her senses. “Not today…please not today,” she begged no one in particular. Out of sight, she dropped to her knees and picked at the grass as the noise escalated. “Dammit. I said stop.” Giving in, she put her hands in her lap. With her index finger, she wrote the alphabet on her leg. She needed deep concentration to make the connection. She waited for a clear voice to come through, dreading – yet at the same time accepting – communication with the dead. After tracing a Z on her leg, she started over with A as a faint whisper formed. Unable to make out any words, she slowed her pace and drew the letter B. She kept repeating this action, taking deeper breaths each time, trying to match the frequency of the spirit. She’d almost given up when a clear voice said, “You need to find out the truth, Aries.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Atilla
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Solena I didn’t know why I was here. This wasn’t my scene. The music was too loud, the women too wild, and the smoke nearly choked me. So why the hell hadn’t I turned around and gone home? The man at the end of the bar was the only reason I hadn’t run for the hills. I’d seen him around town. In fact, he often came to the café where his daughter worked. The pregnant teen was working on her GED and waiting tables. I’d once been in her shoes, so I could sympathize. Except, I didn’t get to keep my baby. I’d been fifteen when my boyfriend didn’t take no for an answer. The result had been a little boy. One I’d never even gotten to hold. My parents had told the doctor to take him away before I even got a good look, and I had no idea where he was now. I’d tried to find out, but I had had no luck. The place my parents supposedly used for the adoption had never existed. My stomach churned every time I thought about it. What had happened to my little boy? Was he okay? Did a loving family get him? Today he was especially on my mind, since it was his birthday. Which was the second reason I’d come here. I’d wanted a distraction so I wouldn’t think about him. Obviously, it wasn’t working. I took a swallow of the cocktail I’d ordered and tried to get the courage to speak to the President of the Savage Raptors. He’d always seemed nice when he’d stopped by to visit Casey. We’d exchanged a few words here and there. Every time I got close to him, my heart raced, and I fought the urge to reach out my hand and touch him. Something about him called to me. I’d never been the type to go for bad boys or rough men. Atilla looked like both, and yet, I’d seen how gentle he was with Casey. Perhaps it was that side of him I yearned for. More than once, I’d gone to sleep hugging my pillow, wondering what it would be like to have Atilla lying next to me. I didn’t know what I found so fascinating about him. I knew people would say he was too old for me. Their opinions didn’t matter. I’d never been so drawn to someone before, and I found him to be the sexiest man in town. Possibly in the entire world. “You going to keep staring at him or go make a move?” someone asked from beside me. I startled and glanced in the man’s direction. Spade was on his leather cut, along with Vice President. “Was I being that obvious?” I asked. Should I wipe my chin? Had I been drooling over the man? Wouldn’t be the first time. One of my co-workers once threw a napkin at me after Atilla left the café. I’d literally been salivating over him like a dog after a bone. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure you’ve seen him wave off every woman who approached so far. I have a feeling he won’t turn you away. You’re different from the other women here. I can’t quite figure out why you came to a party at the clubhouse. You don’t seem like the sort to do this kind of thing.” “I’m not. It’s my first time doing anything like this, and I’m extremely nervous.” Spade smiled faintly. “You came for him, didn’t you?” I nodded. I couldn’t deny it. The alcohol in my system hadn’t been enough to give me the courage to go up to him. I wasn’t sure anything could help me. What was I expecting from this, anyway? I wasn’t the one-night-stand type, and I didn’t think the man had come here to find a girlfriend. When I’d thought about getting a drink and possibly getting closer to Atilla, my brain hadn’t gone as far as the next step. I yearned to speak with him. Get closer to him. If he kissed me, I might die from both pleasure and a shock to my system. In all this time, I’d never desired anyone. With Atilla, I found myself watching him whenever he was nearby, and wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to him. I couldn’t help but think if a man like him were part of my life, things would be different. It wouldn’t change my financial issues, but having someone to lean on, to give me their support and a little affection would have meant the world to me. Not just anyone… him. It had to be Atilla or no one. Truth be told, I hadn’t slept with anyone since that one time. Then again, I didn’t consider what my boyfriend had done to me to be considered sex. He’d raped me. I knew it. He knew it. Everyone else thought I’d given consent, then changed my mind after the fact and made a fuss over nothing. Even my parents hadn’t believed me. “Maybe I should just leave,” I said. “Or you could follow me.” He snatched up my glass, and I hurried after him, keeping an eye on the open beverage. I knew nothing about these men, or what they were capable of. He wouldn’t put something in it, would he? I chased him down, only to come to a halt next to Atilla. Spade set my glass on the bar beside Atilla’s beer, then motioned to the empty stool. “Sit. Talk. But stop staring at him like a creeper.” My cheeks warmed, and I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Atilla’s lips kicked up on one corner and I saw the amusement in his eyes. I sat down and took another swallow of my drink. Then drained the glass. Atilla motioned to the guy behind the bar and before I knew it, I had a fresh drink sitting in front of me. “You’re Solena, right?” he asked. He remembered my name? It pleased me more than it should have. It wasn’t like he said I was special or anything. Just because he knew who I was didn’t mean anything. For all I knew, he remembered every person he ever met. “Yeah. I work with Casey at the café.” Way to state the obvious, idiot. “So, why did you come here?” Atilla asked. “To see you.” I winced. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out. It seemed the alcohol was affecting me more than I’d realized. “That right?” He grinned. “And what were you hoping to gain from it?” “I don’t know,” I admitted. He eyed me up and down. “Well, you’re showing off more than you usually do, but you’re still overdressed for a place like this.” I looked around the room and noticed most of the women were naked already. And the things they were doing… I quickly turned my head. It felt like my face was on fire, and I knew I could never be like those women. Not that I condemned them for being so free. It just wasn’t something I could ever do. I had stretch marks from my pregnancy, and a little extra around the middle. I’d be too embarrassed to strip naked in front of everyone. “Come on. I’m getting a fucking headache. Grab your drink.” Atilla stood, picking up his beer. I picked my cocktail up and followed him toward the back of the building. He entered a door at the end of the hall and flipped on the lights. It looked like a boardroom. Well, a rustic version of one. The wood table looked sturdy. He pulled out one of the leather chairs and motioned for me to sit. “Is it okay for me to set my glass down?” I asked. He snorted. “Not going to hurt anything.” With the door closed, it was far quieter than it had been in the main room. The fact we were alone made butterflies riot in my stomach. I didn’t know why he’d brought me in here. Did he expect something? 
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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