Book Tour

Mafia Boss

Mafia Boss
The Accidental Mafia Queen Book 1
by Khardine Gray
Genre: Contemporary Mafia Romance
Better to be at the right hand of the devil than in his path…
When you come from a crime family, you have a name to live up to. My enemies know I’m a bastard who shows no mercy—exactly the cold-hearted don my father would want me to be. Except we’re not the one’s in charge. Yet…
The Boss wants me to take over his billion dollar business, and the only way that’s happening is if I can win the heart of his cop daughter. I planned to treat her just like all the other women who meant nothing to me, but everything about her is tempting. Her beauty, her body, her soul. Money and Power. That’s all this was supposed to be about…
Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was finding out that her father has a hidden agenda, and I’m just a pawn in his game.
MAFIA BOSS is The Godfather and The Sopranos with the sexy edge of a drool-worthy Alpha male. Fans of R.R. Banks and Vi Keeland are gonna love this…
**Only .99 cents!!**
Khardine Gray is a contemporary romance author who lives in England with her husband, two kids, and three crazy ferrets.
She is well traveled, cultured, and a woman with a passion for dancing and ice skating.
When not writing you can catch her shopping, indulging on pizza and hot chocolate, or hanging out with her family and friends.
No need to spend money on an airline ticket. Simply pick up one of Khardine’s books to become immersed in the fascinating stories and characters she creates.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive content and a giveaway!
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HEA Inc. – where dreams are made to come true

Everyone deserves a happily ever after, don’t they? Meet Felicity – her goal in life is to be the best fairy godmother that has ever been and to make her family proud. The only problem is that the prince is intent on making love to her. Follow these zany characters and learn the real, twisted story behind the Cinderella fairytale.

Publisher’s Note: This steamy ‘fractured’ fairy tale contains explicit love scenes between consenting adults and is intended for mature readers.

Global Link~ mybook.to/heainc About S. Cinders: S. CINDERS is a multi-genre author with over thirty titles ranging from sci-fi romance, historical romance, new adult romance, fractured fairy tales, to paranormal romance. S. CINDERS lives in the Midwest with her husband and two teenage sons who keep her on her toes. Known as the naughty romance author, you will remember her for her banter and engaging characters. Once you start, you won’t want to stop! Where you can find S. CINDERS? Facebook Profile: http://bit.ly/FBSCinders Facebook Group: http://bit.ly/SCindersSparks Amazon: author.to/scinders Twitter: http://bit.ly/tweetSCinders Instagram: http://bit.ly/InstaSCinders Goodreads: http://bit.ly/GRSCinders Pinterest: http://bit.ly/pinSCinders Website: https://www.scinders.com

Tantalising, glorious and original! I guarantee you have never read a Cinderella story like this. Five sexy stars! ~ Addison Cain USA Today Bestselling Author

Book Blitz

Red is for Rookie


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Mystery, Suspense
Publisher: Elk Lake Publishing, Inc

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RED IS FOR ROOKIE

RED IS FOR RACE

Tracking a kidnapper is an unusual assignment for a private investigator. But Matt is Holly’s lifelong friend. During the race to save him, Holly discovers a lot more than she bargained for. Matt’s in love with her.

RED IS FOR RISK

Holly’s world has never been more dangerous. Her mother’s convinced Holly will end up dead, so she hires a PI to protect Holly. She needs Stryker’s savvy and expertise and is eager for his help, though she risks her heart working with the danger-loving man.

RED IS FOR REVENGE

Stryker’s past returns to haunt him. The kidnapper wants revenge. Stryker risks his life Holly. The dangerous race transforms Holly from a Rookie into a seasoned PI. But with the two men turning her life upside down, can Holly take the heat?



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Excerpt


          As I turned away to retrace my surveillance route, my gaze swept across a man I hadn’t noticed before. He stood near the ballroom door with his back to me. I did a double-take. An off-duty cop. I could spot one a mile away. The way he walked, stood, and observed his surroundings. A cop couldn’t disguise his identity. Calm, professional, strong, he looked as though he controlled the world. With legs braced wide, right foot behind, he kept his piece away from the crowd. Even from the rear the guy looked cocky.

                Someone touched my shoulder. I jumped. While I’d been eyeing the cop, Matt had crossed to my side of the room.

                “Who invited the police?” Matt jabbed a thumb toward the ballroom door.

                “My question exactly. Maybe one of the rich types demanding extra protection. Or maybe the cop’s moonlighting as a bodyguard.”

                Matt rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Maybe. Don’t know.”

                “Whatever. I’ll find out.”

                “You do that.” Matt sauntered back to his side of the ballroom.

                I planned to check the cop out but didn’t want to meet him this way. I had an image to project. I was an investigator. A professional. Strong. Independent. Cool. Granted, I had a lot to learn, but I sure didn’t want to be seen on Valentine’s night appearing to shop for a man. In a town as closely-connected as Dallas, if we met in the line of fire–and I had no doubt we would—he’d never take me seriously. Some time tonight I’d inform the cop I was actually working.

                I policed my half of the room then headed back toward the Champion Wrestler table.

                Big, warm fingers grasped my arm with just enough pressure to make me brake and take notice. The dark-haired, fine-looking man extended his other hand. A sense of recognition nagged me. But I didn’t know him.        

He sat with his back to the wall at the Attorney table catty-cornered to the wrestlers’ enclave. I shook his waiting hand, feeling warmth and solid strength. He wore his dark suit like other men wore uniforms. Daring. Proud. Indomitable. Candlelight reflected mystery in his brown eyes. With the kind of smile you see on a man given an unexpected dish of ice cream, he stood and offered me the empty chair his polished wingtips had guarded. With the chair now free, a bevy of females flew over from different tables and circled him.

                “Sit a while.” 

His compelling expression excluded everyone in the room but me. It was an invitation I didn’t want, but my feet, aching from the unaccustomed spike heels, did. So, I slid into the seat.

“Thanks, but just for a minute.”

                Sophisticated women glared—shoppers vying for the man’s attention. He flashed them a smile and motioned to the nearby Champion Wrestler table. “Those men want to meet you.”

                “I’ll be back.” One woman, wearing heavy eye liner, trailed her hand along the top of the man’s chair and threw him a seductive glance before she moved away. The other ladies stepped over to the strong men’s table.

                “Thanks, man.” One wrestler nodded, his long blonde hair falling into his square-jawed face.

                I turned to the man, a real James Bond type. Unwanted sparks ignited my insides. Too intense to be handsome and too electric to be ignored, he was big, tense, and concentrated. I’d never met a man who looked so ready for adventure.

                Here was trouble masquerading as charm.

                “They’re gonna love this at the office,” Bond drawled.

                I blinked. The heat in his eyes warmed me like sun-melted chocolate. The challenge in his steady gaze stiffened my backbone.

                “The office?” I noticed the bulge under his armpit not quite hidden by his well-fitting dark suit jacket. Tingles trilled my spine.

                “Stryker Black. You’re Holly Garden.”

                Recognition hit me. The out-of-uniform cop I’d spotted standing in the foyer with his back to me. How had he settled in so quickly? His proximity caused my eyelid to do its thing. Most people never see my twitch. I hoped Stryker didn’t. The quivers make me look unprofessional.

“How do you know my name?”

                “Looked up your file at our office.”

                Suspicion brought sudden anger biting into me like the Genesis serpent. To keep my temper in check I whispered. “You’re a police officer?”

                “Used to be. Now a PI. Ace Investigations.”

                I shot to my feet, snagged a four-inch stiletto on the chair rung and lurched forward, catching the table’s edge to keep from landing in his lap.

                “I knew it!” Mom.

 With my nose inches from his ear, his masculine scent broke through my protective aura. Trying not to breathe in his woodsy, nautical aroma, I scooted away.

                Because I wasn’t breathing freely, my whisper sounded weird and nasal. “I want you to leave. At once.”

                “Why should I?”

                I stared and forgot to lower my voice. “You’re not needed.”

                The four lawyers seated around Stryker perked up. Fat and thin, they gazed at me like I was a valuable bequest in a contested will. One leaned so far forward on the table his French cuff dipped into his coffee.

                Stryker remained cool. “I’m sure you’re acquainted with a lady named Violet Garden.” 

                My palms turned sweaty.

                My own mother thought I couldn’t fill Dad’s shoes. She thought I didn’t have the guts to be a detective. She thought I’d fail. Knees weak, I slid back into the chair and gazed down. My fingers itched to fiddle with the clasp on my glittery bag, but I held them still. I couldn’t let the PI see how his words curdled my self-esteem.

                “Security was the word Ms. Garden used.”

                I spoke low, not wanting anyone else to hear. “She didn’t. She couldn’t.” I clamped my lips. Striker didn’t need to know how his words upset me.

                “Hard to believe?” He gave me a hard-boiled, tight-lipped Bogart smile.

                Sitting so close, he didn’t look like a cop. Or a PI for that matter. More like a very, very sexy bad guy. Mafia or something. My throat closed. How could Mom do this to me?

                “Mom asked for you? Personally?”          

“She asked for Ace’s top man.” His dark eyes spoke of secrets, hinted of danger. Pulled me in even as they warned me off.

                I whispered, “Luck of the draw?”

                We’d been talking in hushed tones, but now the PI, a beguiling smirk on his face, spoke louder. “I won the lottery.”

                One lawyer said, “I’ve got to remember that line.”

                The other lawyers grunted agreement.

                Their responses helped me regain my poise. I turned back to the PI. “Okay, you work for our competition . . . and you’re here?” I’d staked out Ace Investigations to see what I was up against, so why hadn’t I laid eyes on him there? And he was an eyeful. Plus, he was feeding me a line. And good at it. Too good.

I scooted my chair away from him. Not that long ago I’d been dumped by another charmer. I wasn’t about to nibble this bait.

                Even if I had wanted to chance another romance, I had a new vocation. I had Dad’s murder to solve and his reputation to sanitize. I needed to prove to the city of Dallas and its entire police force that Dad hadn’t been a dirty Private Investigator. If I failed, our investigative firm would dribble on down the drain. I lifted my chin. Even if I had time to spend with a man, I’d never choose this smoothie. But I did need to size up the competition.

                Investigator Rule Number One – know your enemy.

                So, I did an about face and turned on the sugar. “Stryker, is it?” I smiled sweetly. “I thought I had every PI in Dallas pegged. Glad to meet you.”

                Stryker’s focused expression didn’t change. “Likewise.” He laid a strong hand on my bare arm, raising the hair with a single light touch. “Stay a minute more. Tell me about yourself.”

                A male voice interrupted Stryker. “Let’s be judicious here. Fair’s fair. There’re four attorneys at this table and one lovely woman. Time to share. My name’s Jeff Davidson of Davidson, Hillyer & Greene. I’m sure you’ve heard of my firm. And this is . . . .”

                While Jeff introduced the other three suits, Stryker leaned back and scanned the room, doing his security thing. With me quickly shaking hands around the table, the trio of women who’d huddled around Stryker earlier made their move. Rising from the nearby Champion Wrestler table as if directed by an unseen choreographer, they mobbed Stryker.

                I sucked in a breath. His mouth hanging ajar, Stryker looked stunned. Three wrestlers stood too, pushed aside their chairs, and towered over Stryker. I glimpsed Matt striding across the ballroom toward us, security face on.

                The big blond wrestler, who seemed to be their leader, rasped, “We wasn’t just twiddling our thumbs over here. We was talking with these ladies.” His expression looked downright testy. He raised a fist, looking about to deck Stryker.

                The three glamour girls stepped away from Stryker and melted into the crowd.

Prepared to intervene, I grabbed my purse and wriggled to the edge of my seat, curious to see what Stryker would do. This was plain screwy. Were the wrestlers trying to pick a fight?

                Stryker’s face grew leaner, showing clear bone definition. A paper-thin scar slicing through his cleft chin whitened. He stood and faced the three muscled men, their crimson cummerbunds flashing.

“So?”

                “So, we want our ladies back.”

                “Take them.”

                “Cool it you guys.” I unclasped my purse, thinking I might need my gun.

                The fourth wrestler jumped to his feet, tipping his chair backward. It landed with a thud on the carpeted floor. A solid wall of red cummerbunds circled Stryker. I shot off my chair. One mat-pounder grabbed my arm and hauled me toward his table.

“We want this one too.”

                I jerked my arm loose. My abrupt movement caused my ankle to turn in one of the tricky stilettos.

“Yeow!” I stumbled. Before I could catch my balance, I lost the shoe on my twisted ankle, and fell to my knees.

                Events fast-forwarded. Two wrestlers pummeled Stryker. Someone kicked my evening bag. On hands and knees, I chased it under the Attorney Table to rescue my gun. I glimpsed Matt confronting the other two wrestlers and attempted to squirm out to escort the muscle-jocks to the nearest exit. Crouched on hands and knees, my dress tightened around me like shrink wrap and stopped me cold.

                A lawyer squatted beside me. “Let me help—”

One of the wrestlers slammed him backward with an open palm. With a crash and tinkle of broken glass, the table flipped onto its side. A white and silver rain of crockery and cutlery poured down. A plate of romaine lettuce and blue cheese dressing slapped against my thigh, releasing the odor of salad-splashed velvet. My vision slowed as if I starred in a surreal movie. Mind scanning possible actions, my skirt creeping higher above my knees, I crawled free.

                Was this a diversion for a robbery? I had to take control. Still on hands and knees, I smelled something acrid and sulfuric. The lighted candle centerpiece smoldered at the edge of the tablecloth. With a soft whoosh, flames leapt to life. I grabbed the closest thing at hand, a large slab of prime rib probably from the same uneaten place setting as the salad and beat the flames with the semi-rare meat until they died in wisps of smoke beneath charred beef. Smelling cooked steak mixed with scorched hair and fearful of what I would find, I touched my eyebrows and bangs. Crispy but still there.

                Gasps and murmurings told me the crowd grew around us. Heavy feet shuffled, and I jerked my hand back to keep it from getting trampled. Fists struck flesh accompanied by grunts and colorful language. I couldn’t believe such a brouhaha erupted in our little corner of the big room with so little provocation. Something smelled fishy and it wasn’t the shrimp cocktail sauce dripping onto the carpet. I was about to spring to my feet when a body thudded to within an inch of me and lay still.

                Stryker. One look at Stryker’s bloody face and I all but keeled over him.

My pulse spiked, pushing me into Unthinking Mode. Okay, so I lost it here. Thoughts of my job flew out the window. But only for a few seconds.

Still on my knees, I fished in my clutch for my cell, and dialed 911. Dead zone. Resisting the urge to throw the instrument at a wrestler, I dropped the useless thing back into my purse.

As quickly as the commotion started, it ended. The dull thud of fists on flesh died. Fingers and knees digging into the thick carpet, I lifted one hand and pressed two fingers against the carotid artery in Stryker’s muscular neck. Warm skin. Steady pulsing.

                Lord, please don’t let him be badly hurt.

                With all quiet above me, I assumed Matt held everything under control. I loosened Stryker’s red power tie and rubbed his big, limp hand between both of mine. His lashes, fanned across those high cheekbones, looked longer than any man had a right to own. Other than being a little bloody and lying motionless, he looked fine. Too fine. But I didn’t have to remind myself that Mom hired him. A twinge of joy that it was him, not Matt or me lying on the floor, layered in an uncomfortable guilt that squashed the relief, so I said another quick prayer for the competition PI.

He groaned, and his eyelids fluttered.

                Men’s polished dress shoes, accompanied by glittering high heels, moved close enough for me to touch. One wrestler squatted next to me. “Here, let me—”

                “No. Don’t touch him.” I swatted the man’s beefy hand away from Stryker.

                Stryker opened his eyes, relieving my worry about him. But Mom would arrive any minute for her grand entrance, and I desperately wanted her to gawk at her security being carried away in an ambulance.

I said to the wrestler, “I’ve got to call EMS.”

                Furor at the ballroom doors made me look up. “That was fast. Matt must have gotten through to EMS.” But doubt nagged my brain. Too fast. Way too fast.

                Before I could follow up my hunch, the crowd opened up and two blue-uniformed men, carrying oxygen paraphernalia, a stretcher, and a medical kit hustled to the table.

                The EMS team ignored Stryker who lay concealed by a drooping tablecloth, with only his long legs and feet protruding. One Medic knelt beside another stretched-out body. I struggled to my feet, red dress hiked almost mid-thigh, to identify the victim.

                “Matt!” I rushed over in time to see the medic jab a syringe into my co-investigator’s limp arm.

                Electrical impulses spiked my nerves. I’d never seen an emergency team do that. The first medic finished a cursory check for broken bones, then both men heaved Matt onto the stretcher and hustled him through the crowded ballroom.

                Juggling on one four-inch heel and one bare foot, I elbowed my way through the crowd after them. “Which hospital?”

                They mumbled something incoherent and disappeared through the hotel’s exterior door.

                Lord, please take care of Matt. He’s a good friend. Keep him safe.

                I started after them.

                The blond wrestler clutched my arm, stopping me from following them out to the ambulance. Then he smiled crookedly, straightened his bow tie, and righted his cummerbund. “Don’t look so worried, the PI’s in good hands.”

                I stiffened. “How do you know Matt’s a PI?”

                The wrestler frowned and clamped his lips.

                Shivers snaked my spine. Something was very wrong.


About the Author

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Anne Greene lives in the quaint antiquing town of McKinney, Texas, a few miles north of Dallas. Her husband is a retired Colonel, Army Special Forces. Her little brown and white Shih Tzu, Lily Valentine, shares her writing space, curled at her feet.

Besides her first love, writing, she enjoys family, friends, travel, reading, and way too many other things to mention. Life is good. Jesus said, “I am come that you might have life and that you might have it more abundantly.”

Anne’s an award-winning author of twenty-three books. She loves writing about alpha heroes who aren’t afraid to fall on their knees in prayer, and about gutsy heroines. She hopes her stories transport you to awesome new worlds and touch your heart.


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Book Tour

The Arrangement Duet

On His Terms
The Arrangement Duet Book 1
by Madison Quinn
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Fleeing an abusive relationship normally doesn’t lead to a contract.
After being burned by an ex Nicholas doesn’t trust easily. However, his refusal to have a serious girlfriend threatens everything he has spent the last five years working to accomplish. Somehow, instability in his love life has convinced the public that he can’t manage a multi-billion dollar investment firm. If he doesn’t change things quickly, he’ll risk losing everything he’s worked his entire life for.
To solve his problems, Nicholas hires Kenzie to be his pretend girlfriend. With the terms of their contract firmly in place, Kenzie is confident this arrangement will allow her to ditch at least one of the deadbeat jobs she’s endured to keep from returning to the horrors she left behind.
Keeping their arrangement completely professional slowly becomes complicated as attraction rises to the surface. Both of their futures are riding on this arrangement working and neither can afford to lose the other.
On Her Terms
The Arrangement Duet Book 2
Lines are blurred…
It’s just business,” billionaire businessman Nicholas Parker keeps reminding himself. But when he stares into Kenzie Rose’s eyes, runs his hands along her sexy body, any pretext of business flies out the window.
The stakes are escalating. Someone from his past is out to destroy his reputation, his business, his life. Kenzie, and their fake arrangement is the only answer. But what if the arrangement is not enough? In more ways than one? More than his business is at risk…
When the passion ignites between them, Kenzie wonders if this is more than business. And can she keep her own demons away? Can Nicholas save his business and the woman he’s falling for? The danger is real, and it’s not only his fortune he’s risking, it’s his heart, and Kenzie’s future.
Is he willing to sacrifice his heart for his career? Is he willing to sacrifice everything for the love of a woman? And what will she sacrifice? And what about their arrangement?
On Her Terms is the explosive sequel to the wildly popular On His Terms by Madison Quinn.
Madison Quinn is a mom to three energetic boys who constantly keep her on the go. She’s also a wife to an amazing husband.
She works full time in the human services industry and in her spare time she enjoys reading and writing.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
Release Blitz

Stranded by Cara Dee

Stranded by Cara Dee

Title: Auctioned

Genre: Gay Romance

Pairing: Crime/Suspense

 

Amazon Universal: http://bit.ly/cdw-amazon-stranded

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/cdw-good-stranded

 

Synopsis:

 

Stranded is the second book in The Auctioned Series. Before you read further, you should read Auctioned.

 

“You have my word, Gray. I will get you off this island, and I will bring you home.”

 

It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out job. Nothing Darius Quinn hadn’t done before. But this job had something none of the others did: Gray Nolan.

 

Like Murphy’s Law advised, anything that could go wrong, would. A mission to save one hometown favorite son was turning into a quest to rescue thirteen traumatized young men against odds so steep, he’d need an oxygen mask to scale them.

 

Facing new dangers and an uncertain future, Darius keeps Gray close and is soon forced to accept that this has become much more than an assignment. For a man whose reputation was built on being ice-cold under pressure, Darius is beginning to discover how good it feels to burn.

Excerpt I:

“Can I go to the waterfall and clean up? I feel gross,” Gray said.

Darius hesitated. Several of the others had already been there, though that was before it was pitch black outside. On the other hand, it would be a good idea to redress Gray’s thigh, especially after his stupid swim in the ocean earlier.

“If I go with you,” he decided. It wouldn’t hurt to get himself cleaned up too. His skin itched like nothing else, and perhaps he could wash away some of the tension in his body as well. It’d been one of the longest days he’d ever endured.

It was settled, and he grabbed a medical kit as Ryan extended a bag of something.

“Food and a towel.”

Darius nodded in acknowledgment, and then he trailed over to Gray.

To make the trek easier, they took the longer route along the beach, and when the little stream appeared, all they had to do was follow it.

“Don’t walk too fast, knucklehead,” Darius murmured.

Gray huffed a breath and slowed down a bit. “I just wanna get there—ouch.” He hissed and hopped on his good leg as he held his foot. “Fuck.”

“What happened?” Darius closed the distance, not that he could see shit.

“I don’t know. Stepped on something. It’s fine.”

“Wanna use my shoes?” Darius obviously hadn’t been able to pack proper boots, like the ones Ry had arrived in, but he’d included a pair of sneakers that he’d changed into earlier. Gray was more than welcome to them.

“It’s okay. They’re probably too big anyway.”

Maybe a size or two, but it would feel better than walking around a jungle barefoot. A jungle that, even if small in size by comparison, was alive with countless sounds. This time of year, the humidity wasn’t stifling, but the dampness was still wherever they turned. Leaves glistened in the pale moonlight. Frogs and birds competed with their calls, and the underbrush rustled with the breeze and invisible critters.

“Come on, we’re almost there.” Gray was walking again. “By the way, did you guys contact your sister?”

“Ry’s probably doing that right now. He’s gonna ask her to hold off for forty-eight hours.”

“Why? Can’t you just have her call the authorities to pick us up?”

Darius nodded and sidestepped a tree trunk. “The problem is Ryan and me. There’s a risk we’re not alone in the area, and if rescue arrives and he and I are spotted with all this gear by the wrong people, all this will be for nothing. If they suspect it’s all been one big rescue op…” He didn’t wanna finish that sentence.

Gray seemed to understand anyway. “They might come after us.”

Or their loved ones.

 

Excerpt II:

Even though the situation was serious, it was impossible not to find humor in it. Gray was endearing as all hell when he was high, and Darius was confident he hadn’t administered too much—or too little, for that matter.

“Any nausea?” He smiled faintly and sat up. Easier to see Gray that way, and he was on his back with one arm stretched up while he was trying to pinch stars between his fingers. He wasn’t very successful.

“Nope.” Gray wore a silly grin, trying to grab another star from the sky. “That’s the ninth time you’ve asked.”

It was the second, but who was counting. Clearly not Gray.

“First-time users get sick sometimes,” Darius answered.

“Oh.” Gray yawned and folded his hands under his head instead. “Are we sleeping here tonight? Can we go catch bananas?”

Darius coughed around a chuckle and dug out his battered pack of smokes from his jeans. “We’re staying a few hours, at least.” So far, no fresh blood had painted Gray’s bandage, and Darius was counting his blessings for it. That said, he wanted to be careful and not move around. “Can you wiggle your toes for me?”

Again?” Gray took on the huffy, insufferable tone of a complaining teenager. “See? I’m doing it.” Nothing. Nada. His feet were still.

“You’re actually not,” Darius drawled. “Try again.”

Gray frowned and concentrated, and the tip of his tongue poked out. It was…cute as fuck. “What about now? I’m trying to contact them.”

Darius chuckled once more, and he was relieved when the toes did move. “There we go.”

“Told you,” Gray sang. “Can’t cut off my pulse.”

“Circulation,” Darius corrected with a laugh.

Hey.” Gray pushed himself up and supported his weight on his elbows. The silly, lazy grin was back. “You laughed, gorgeous.”

That made Darius snort, and he lit up a smoke.

“I’m just sayin’.” Gray plopped down again. “I’d let you wear my letterman jacket.”

Good lord, where the hell were the kid’s thoughts this time?

“Mr. Stone-face,” Gray whispered at the sky. “Hottest cover, but the pages are blank. No, wait. I mean, they’re in another language. I can’t read your book. You know?”

Darius’s forehead creased, and he exhaled some smoke. “I can’t even pretend to know what you’re rambling about, boy.”

Gray waved a hand. “I know some things.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, you’re a good man. But then…? Poof. You were born in Greece.”

“I…”

“Because your book is in Greek!” Gray’s triumphant yell echoed and bounced between the trees.

Instantly alert, Darius narrowed his eyes and observed their surroundings. “Keep it down, knucklehead.” They hadn’t searched the whole island yet, and they couldn’t be too careful.

 

Teasers

Death’s Maiden by Annie Becker

JUST ONE MORE WEEK! Death’s Maiden by Annie Becker will be here February 6th!!!

DON’T WAIT — PRE-ORDER TODAY → https://amzn.to/2Em2vcq

BLURB:

When Cassie Martin slips through the top-secret time-bridge to find herself in 1348 Avignon, France, she has high hopes that she can make this trip a quick and magical one, and most of all, keep it secret from her lover Aaron Reegan. She wants to get onto Avignon’s famous bridge, see it and get back within minutes. Then, Cassie comes through the time-bridge the first person to see her is a cruel monk who calls her Hecate and “Death’s Maiden.”

Top-secret time travel facility? Creepy (yet mysterious) fellow reporter Syd Meyer who has lied and betrayed Cassie? No-nonsense ex-Delta force Army Captain who loves BDSM play, has a riding crop – and will use it, if only he can also follow Cassie back in time and find her.

What could possibly go wrong?

GRAB BOOK ONE NOW: Amazon → https://amzn.to/2OlDLWH

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About Annie

Annie Becker is an American author of adventure romance, stories with smart feisty heroines (who don’t always make the best choices), smoking hot alpha heroes, and plots that are edgy and raw… just a bit outside of the mainstream. Time travel, mysterious artifacts, underwater archaeology, alien abduction, EMP survival… you’ll find all of these in an Annie Becker adventure romance! Annie, with a co-author, won Romantic Times’ Awards “Best New Historical Romance” and “Best Romantic Adventure” in the 1980s. The duo penned several books that are widely regarded as some of the best “bodice rippers” of all time. After leaving romance writing for many years, she’s back – with a vengeance – and ready to take readers on wild adventures to places that are all too real. Annie splits her time between her home in Colorado, her son’s home in Virginia and her daughter’s home in London. She loves cats, dogs, her children, her grandchildren, and her husband.

Find Annie Online! Amazon: https://amzn.to/2NTYTUg BookBub: http://bit.ly/2E8NfjX Facebook: http://bit.ly/2DImFOq Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Nknr3W Twitter: http://bit.ly/2OuRD0J Website: https://anniebecker.net