Come A Little Closer by #KimKarr


Come A Little Closer

Join New York Times Bestselling Author Kim Karr on another emotional journey in her next release, Come A Little Closer, on March 28th!

What happens when bad meets good? Get ready to find out. Only this time the bad isn’t who you think it is. It was a one-night stand, until she forced him to change the rules.

Keep reading for an excerpt!

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I haven’t always been this bad…

Up until recently, I was the kind of girl who wore white cotton panties and bent at the knees rather than the waist.

Pomp and circumstance changed all that.

Jaxson Cassidy was my first taste of bad, and I liked it more than I should have. Just not in the way I was meant to. I couldn’t help myself though. I found him irresistible. That sexy grin, those skilled fingers, and that dirty, dirty mouth were a lethal combination.

I wasn’t supposed to want him. I wasn’t supposed to let him put his hands on me. I wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things…but I did.

He wants to keep me close.
I should push him away.
He says he can help me.
I’m not so sure.
For some reason, he thinks there’s good left in me.

What if he’s wrong?

Everyone knows a good boy can’t turn a bad girl around.
Everyone knows it’s always the other way.
Everyone…except him.



There was a dominance in his body language I couldn’t deny.

Heeding his invitation, I stopped before him. He stood and his towering height overwhelmed me, but when he pulled the empty barstool out and grinned at me, I felt electrically charged. “Hi.”

Slowly, I climbed onto it. For some reason, I couldn’t stop my knees from wobbling. “Hi,” I tried to respond, but it sounded more like a squeak.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I opened my mouth to say something more but found no words. Instead, my breath hissed out as a slow leak.

What was I doing?

I should have been running in the other direction. I didn’t have time for careless flirting. I had a job to do. One I knew I would never really be able to do.

Settling myself on the luxurious white leather stool, I crossed one leg over the other. As soon as I did, his heavy stare rolled over my face and then down my body. It felt like he was surveying every inch of me.

Suddenly, I wasn’t cold anymore. Heat roared through me like a fire being doused with gasoline.

The way he was looking at me was anything but subtle.

He was anything but subtle.

I didn’t care. I didn’t want subtle. I wanted bold.

A flash of thunder cut through the window, illuminating his face. His stunning features. Hard jaw. High cheekbones. Strong forehead. Full and curved mouth. Edible lips. And those eyes, they grabbed me and wouldn’t let go—like he saw the blackness inside me and wanted to add some light.

Ridiculous, I knew.

That smug grin he was wearing spread across his lips as he sat back down. The movement caused his dark hair to flip forward over his eyes. He pushed it away, and the gesture broke the trance I was in. Thick-lashed eyes shined as brilliant as the brightest lights I’d ever seen and amusement seemed to sparkle in their dark color.

All of a sudden I felt dizzy. Lost. Reborn. Taken back in time.

He was Eros.

I was Aphrodite.

He was Cupid.

I was Venus.

I let my bag drop to my feet beside my suitcase.

He twisted in my direction. “Crazy weather,” he said in a voice that was deep, cultured, sexy.

It made me shiver.

Half a nervous laugh snuck out of me. “You’re not kidding.”

Out of nowhere, the bartender set two heavy crystal glasses of amber-colored liquid in front of stock-photo guy and myself, and it shocked me. I hadn’t ordered anything, most especially not whiskey.

“Should I add this to your tab?” the bartender directed, and not toward me.

“Please,” stock-photo guy answered.

Embarrassment washed over me. He was with someone and I had misread him completely.

Hopping to my feet, I felt unsteady in my heels. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked if this seat was taken. I’ll get out of your way.”

Moving fast, he rose to his full height. He was close. So close. Floored by over six feet of hotness, his scent hit me immediately. Something manly, with a hint of the ocean. I took a moment to breathe it in and tried not to wince when the pain in my ribs struck.

His strong hands steadied my hips. “No, don’t leave. The drink is for you.”

And I felt. Felt his touch race down my hips, knot in my stomach, and make my toes curl.

If he was Cupid, I’d been struck by his arrow.

My gaze darted up, up, up, and when our eyes locked, my pulse started to race. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a flight,” I stupidly said.

He was a bad idea.

Staying was a bad idea.

This whole thing was a bad ideaand yet it already felt so good.

He dipped his head, those dark eyes going liquid with a heat I felt between my thighs. “In case you haven’t looked at the monitors, no one is going anywhere right now. All the planes are grounded until morning.”

I laughed, and it wasn’t an act. “I know that,” I replied. “What I meant was that drinking is a bad idea when I have such a long night ahead of me.”

His eyes flickered to my lips before returning to mine. “Exactly. It’s going to be a very long night, which is why drinking seems like a really good idea.”

No alarm bells rang. Instead, I smiled. I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Sit,” he said, moving back to his stool.

For a moment I forgot everything and allowed myself to get lost in the darkest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Without thinking anything through, I sat back down. “Maybe just one.”

The look he gave me screamed sinful bad boy.

“Reading Hotlanta?” I asked, pointing to his bag.

With a shake of his head, he blew my comment off. “More like reading crap.”

Okay, I had no response to that, and luckily I didn’t need one.

He lifted his glass. “To passing time,” he toasted.

The way he looked at me when he spoke made my pulse jump and nipples pop. Ignoring my body’s reaction to him, I lifted my own. “To passing time,” I repeated, clinking his glass.

I didn’t really have time.

I had a job to do.

I couldn’t stay with him.

Could I?

I was stranded at the airport, after all.

I lowered my glass and sighed.

Tough day?” he asked after taking more like a gulp of his whiskey.

“Yes,” I responded truthfully.

He took another long sip of his drink and let his eyes linger on my thighs. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

In that moment I was no longer Sarah, the lonely rich wife or the wandering mistress or the high-priced call girl I had been sent here to be. I wasn’t acting. I didn’t want to. I was just being me. Albeit, a well dressed-up version of myself, but still me.

Following his lead, I practically guzzled the potent liquor. Once I’d drained it, I figured why not talk. Setting my empty glass down, I told him, “I had to make a decision today and I have no idea if I made the right one.”

In truth, I already knew it was the wrong one.

Being here was wrong.

Being with him was wrong.

And yet, talking to him felt right.

I shouldn’t have come here to steal what wasn’t mine, no matter the reason. It wasn’t me. I didn’t earn what these men had. And I hated myself for even thinking about taking from them.

It was then I looked into his eyes and saw that very familiar feeling of loathing. Those dark eyes I thought had been filled with mirth were actually brooding.

What did he hate himself for?

I wanted to know.

Was I a way for him to forget? If so, did it matter? Either way, I wanted to be the one to ease his pain.

And I had no idea why.

He downed the rest of his glass and signaled the bartender. “You know,” he said, “sometimes I think the only way to get by in this world is to step off for a while.”

I glanced at his bags on the floor. “Is that what you’re doing? Stepping off for a while?”

The bartender placed the entire bottle of Macallan Rare Cask in front of us, and hot photo-guy picked it up right away. “Something like that,” he answered as he poured. “My ex-fiancée got married yesterday, and I was there.”

“Ouch,” I said.

He nodded and finished pouring. “Yeah, hence the heavy drinking. So what’s your story?”

It felt wrong to lie, so I didn’t. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. “I was recently fired.”

“Ouch,” he offered back with a wicked grin and set the bottle down to hold out his hand. That strong, confident, dominant hand. “I’m Sundance.”

I raised a brow. “As in Butch Cassidy?”

“The very same. It’s a nickname, actually.”


Hot name.

I liked it.

I took his offered hand, and the electric current that ran up my arm was stronger than the alcohol flowing through my veins. “Sarah.” The lie slipped out, and I couldn’t take it back. Then again, I didn’t think it really mattered. “And stepping off for a while sounds like a really good idea.”

He leaned closer and lifted his glass. “So, Sarah, what are we going to do to make that happen?”

My brow lifted curiously. “I’m open to suggestions,” I said, the alcohol taking over where reason should have stepped in.

He drained his drink. “Are you?”

The way those two words came out sounded like an invitation. I was in the middle of downing my glass when I lowered it. “Yes, I am. I mean, within reason, of course.”

“Good to know.” He tossed me a panty-melting grin and poured a little more into his glass.

“Why? What do you have in mind?” Ignoring my one-drink rule, I drank a little more, knowing exactly what he had in mind. It was written all over his face—in the way his eyes seemed to have turned the darkest shade of blue, the way his sinful mouth curved ever-so-much, and the way he leaned in even closer to me.

When he was a breath away, he raised the sexiest brow in answer. “We could take this somewhere a little more private.”

I smiled back. A silent, “Yes, I’m interested.”

One rule,” he cautioned.

Now I raised the brow. “Rules already? I don’t even know you,” I joked.

And that’s the way I like it,” he deadpanned.

In that moment I knew what he wanted.

To be anonymous.

To be free.

And to get fucked.

I wanted all of those things, too.

He went on. “We don’t talk about our lives,” he murmured, kissing behind my ear.

I allowed my head to lull back, silently agreeing to his rule because even though he couldn’t possibly know it was the only way I could be with him, it was.

His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of my throat, and I knew that somehow I had gone from the one doing the preying to the one being preyed on.

And I was okay with that.

Maybe stepping off for a while was exactly what I needed.

About the Author:

Reader * Chocolate Lover * Writer * Coffee Lover * Romantic * Beach Lover * Yoga Beginner

Kim Karr is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of eighteen novels. Best known for writing sexy contemporary love stories, she enjoys bringing flawed characters to life and creating romances that are page worthy. Her stories are raw, real, and explosive. Her characters will make you laugh, make you cry, make you feel. And her happily-ever-afters are always swoon worthy. From the brooding rock star to the arrogant millionaire to the Football Player. From the witty damsel-in-distress to the sassy high-powered businesswoman to the boutique owner. No two storylines are ever alike. If Kim‘s not writing, you can find her wandering through antique stores with her husband, trying out new fitness classes with her sons, venturing out to new coffee shops with her daughter, or with her nose stuck in a book.

Link with Kim!


#ThursdayShare 187





Title: Oceanside

Series: Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #3

Author: Michelle Mankin
Genre: Rock Star/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 10, 2018


Oscar night.

Rock star legend, Ashland Keys should be on top of the world, but the blond
blue-eyed SoCal surfer is disillusioned with fame, done with drugs, bored with
the groupies and sick of all the fake f*ckery.

A rising star, Fanny Bay is nominated for best original song in the same
category as the Dirt Dogs band, but the novel redhead with the corkscrew curls
and the slight Canadian accent would prefer to chart a course with a different

Hollywood is not for her.

He’s full of regrets, darkness and secrets.

She’s full of hope and light and has mysteries of her own.

He’s her reserved hero.

She’s his gypsy rose.

He’s water. She’s fire. Together, they don’t make sense.

But he’s what she’s always wanted, and she just might be everything he needs.


Pre-order Links






Oscar night
“Ash,” I corrected. “My friends call me Ash.” My voice
sounded gruff from the weight of the things I wanted to explore further with
her. Things that I wouldn’t, couldn’t pursue. Bad timing to meet someone who so
intrigued me if the test turned out the way I feared. And even if it didn’t,
she was too young, too innocent. Not at all right for someone like me.
“Ash,” she repeated, my name sliding so easily between those
recently wetted ruby red lips of hers. I imagined them wrapped around my shaft
and knew I wouldn’t have turned her down if she had offered to do to me the
things the groupie had. My cock was certainly interested in her. It didn’t care
about timing or right and wrong. It was all about action. 
“I’m sorry you got drawn into my mess,” she continued. “I
think that under different circumstances we might have been friends. It’s
difficult to find many of those in our profession. Genuine ones, I mean. But I
think it’s better if we just go ahead and say goodbye right now.”
“How so?” The lust thundering through me made it difficult
to focus, but I did get that she was giving me the brush off. And even though
wisdom dictated that I take the hint—it was the logical thing to do after all
given our differences—the alpha male in me said, ‘Fuck logic.’
“Because my stepfather wasn’t kidding around. He means what
he says. You don’t want to be on his bad side. I don’t want
you to be on his bad side. And that’s where you would end up if he thought you
were a friend of mine.”
“Someone who steps in front of him when he’s twisting your
arm and hurting you, you mean?”
Her eyes wide, she nodded.
“Well, fuck that bullshit.” My gaze grazed the red welt on
her arm. “He’s the one who should be worried about getting on my bad side.”
She smiled at my vehement response and smiling she was more
than just cute. She was a wrecking ball to my resolve, Prettier in person than
in any of the videos I had seen of her and so enticing in that little yellow
halter top with the tempting bow dangling between her shoulder blades. I
imagined untying it and taking those pins out of her hair. What would those
glorious red curls feel like around my…. No… I reined those thoughts back and
settled for tracing her subtle curves with my gaze instead. No sex. Not with
her. Not with anyone. Not for a while. Potentially not ever. I wouldn’t put
anyone at risk if there was even a chance they would get infected. Ironic to be
sure. Divine justice for my own irresponsible behavior over the years.
The familiar icy dread returning, I had to remind myself
that no diagnosis had actually been made. I had momentarily forgotten my
apprehension in her presence. That song of hers was so fucking full of hope it
had me expecting a miracle. And that hope sprang from within her. She was the
source. No wonder her star had risen so fast. Just a handful of minutes with
her was all it had taken for me to realize it.
“I…I wasn’t expecting to run into you tonight.” Her eyes
twinkled like stars emerging in the sky as the sun relinquished its hold on the
day. “I had hoped to, sure, you know, since I love…your music so much.” A few
more spirally crimson curls shivered free of their pins as her hands fluttered
in front of her chest. “It’s just now that I’ve actually met you for real.” She
gave me that utterly beguiling guileless look. “I’ll never be able to look at
your picture the same way again.”
“No reason to settle for a photograph, Fanny. You have your
things to do tonight, and I’ve got mine. But afterward, there are a lot of
parties. I’m sure we can manage to bump into each other again. Maybe talk some
more.” Unwise, Ashland. But yet doing the ‘whoever and whatever the fuck I
wanted’ rock star entitlement thing was a hard habit to crush. I might not be
able to take this where I wanted with her spread out on the sheets beneath me,
but I wasn’t ready for whatever the hell this was to end yet, either. So
shouldn’t I leave myself an opening? A contingency plan? I had been walking
around like a zombie. But what if the diagnosis wasn’t what I feared? What if I
received favorable news? What then? Who then? As I continued to stare into
those starlit eyes of hers, I felt something shift and lock into place that was
startlingly certain. Her. If I had a future on the other side of this, I wanted
that future to include her.
“There is a reason.” She shook her head. “Samuel Lesowski.
My stepfather. You two didn’t exactly hit it off.”
“You’re an adult. He doesn’t have to know everything you do,
does he?”
“No.” Her face brightening, she shook her head excitedly and
more curls escaped.
“What do you say then? How about this? You be just you and
I’ll be just me. A girl from Beverly Hills and a guy from the beach. None of
the other stuff. It’s not important. I’ve got a hurdle I have to clear next
week, but afterward I can come back to LA. We could meet somewhere.”
“I don’t know.” She captured and wrapped one of her curls
around her finger while blinking uncertainly at me through the thick fringe of
her crimson lashes.
“There’s a coffeehouse,” I plowed over her reservations. “The
Cosmic Cup in Manhattan Beach. It’s by the water. Quiet. Close enough to where
you live, but a fair enough distance from the bullshit of LA. How about
Wednesday at ten o’clock?”
“But nothing. You wrote that song, ‘Tomorrow Today’, right?
Make every moment count. I believe that. We can’t control time, but who says we
can’t manipulate it. We bumped into each other tonight for a reason. Don’t you
think we owe ourselves a chance to find out what that reason is?” 


Also Available



99c for a limited time


Author Bio
Michelle Mankin is the New York Times
bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels.
Rock Stars. Romance. Redemption. 

Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a
BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of
Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock
‘n roll industry. 

Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with
the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are
young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome
that may prevent them from ever getting there. 

Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal
romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series. 

Catch the perfect wave with irresistible surfers in the ROCK

Romance and self-discovery, the FINDING ME series is a
Tempest spin off with a more experienced but familiar cast of characters. 
Exploring the sexual double standards for women, the ROCK
F*CK CLUB series is a what-if the groupies called the shots instead of the rock

When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town
listening to her rock or NOLA funk music much too loud, she is putting her
daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends,
sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend.
Love Evolution
Love Revolution
Love Resolution
Love Rock’ollection  TEMPEST series (also available in audio):

Irresistible Refrain
Enticing Interlude
Captivating Bridge
Relentless Rhythm
Tempest Raging
Tempting Tempo
Scandalous BeatThe MAGIC series (also available in audio):

Strange Magic
Dream Magic

available in audio):

Oceanside FINDING ME series (also available in audio):

Find Me
Remember Me
Keep MeROCK F*CK CLUB series:

Rock F*ck Club (audio coming soon)
Rock F*ck Club 1.5

Author LinksFACEBOOK

Readers, bloggers, and attendees of the Naughty San Diego signing are invited to join Michelle on a walking tour through the streets of Ocean Beach as featured in Oceanside on Sunday April 15, 2018


Limelight (NSB #4) by #AlysonSantos


Limelight (NSB #4)

Step into the limelight on March 12th.
LIMELIGHT by Alyson Santos is coming soon!
Keep reading for an excerpt!


I’m unpredictable.
A genius, an underachiever.
I’m the song, the voice, the passion, the pain.
I am failure.
I do music because it’s what I am, but sometimes that’s not enough.
A slave to my nature, I wait for it to show mercy and drop a gift in my lap.
Because the music chose me.
I’m its victim not its gift.
She destroyed my career.
Ruined my life.
Pushed me from the shadows and exposed my lies.
She’s the fire that destroys lesser men,
and now her flames are aimed at me.
She loves to watch me burn,
but the part we never saw coming?
Sometimes it takes a fire to ignite a spark
And slay the darkness.



“Hey, rock star,” she purrs, homing in on me. I feel the amusement of our audience. Just as long as they keep it to themselves.

“What’s up? Enjoy the show?”


Eye-fuck. Yep, that’s a thing. Those curves, too. I glance back at the guys who are pretending… no they’re not even pretending.

“I’ll be back down to pack up.” I take Becca’s arm amidst a chorus of farewells. If all goes well, they’ll each have their own girl by the end of the night. Well, except Reece who remains faithful to his imaginary lady. He’ll make a real woman happy one day.

Now I’m snickering.

“What’s so funny?” Becca asks as we board the elevator.

“Nothing. You cool with heading up to my room for a while? The guys can be a lot to take when they unwind.”

“Fine with me.” The flirty tone is back. She even takes my arm to reinforce it. “You guys were so so good.”

I manage a quick smile. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. Like, one of the best shows I’ve seen.”


“I’ve seen a lot, too.” She supports this by listing every single one of them as the elevator crawls to the 9th floor. I clench my jaw while counting each number on the slowest climb ever.

“Did you know I bought the songs from your first EP? Even before you were big. I’ve been talking about you guys for years. Ask Rach.”

“That so?” Don’t know Rach.

“Yep. Omigod. Look,” she pulls down the neckline of her shirt to expose a tattoo on her shoulder. It’s the candle from the cover art of our Candlelight EP. “See? Toldya.”

I guess she thinks tattoos come with timestamps?

“I’m honored.”

Shit. I was hoping for an easy night.

The elevator finally finds our floor, and I motion for her to exit.

“Ooh! And polite too? Such a gentleman.”


“Which is yours?”


“Omigod. I love that number.”

Of course she does.

“You’re not gonna believe this but my dorm room freshman year was 907!”

I check my phone but there are no urgent messages to get me out of this.

“You want a drink?” I ask as we move inside.

“Really? Omigod! I can’t believe this is happening! My sisters are going to die!”

I force a nod as my brain runs through a quick inventory of recent groupie failures:

DEA Girl.

Regret and Bolt Girl

Natasha—Assault Girl.

With that track record, of course I’m about to hook up with Omigod Girl.

Maybe I need to try celibacy for a while.

I find her enraptured with the minibar when I tune back in.

“They’re so adorable! Omigod, look at this one. Ahh! What are you having?”

“Help yourself. I need a minute.”

I lock myself in the bathroom and lean against the sink. I can do this. I need this, just…

Shower. Perfect.

“I’m gonna rinse off,” I call out, unnecessarily I learn when her face appears in the crack of the door.

“Want some company?”

“Thanks, but it’ll be quick.”

I click the lock and soothe my head against cool wood. This is my life. These are my connections.

It used to be enough.


A hot shower and booking a high-profile gig do wonders for my mood. I shake the water from my hair and wrap a towel around my waist. I feel somewhat guilty about my harsh appraisal of groupie Becca as I pull open the door, especially when she no longer hovers right outside. Maybe she’s not as clingy as I feared. Clingy ones are the worst. Another hard-learned truth that required Luke’s intervention on tour.

I cross into the main area of the room and…

“Uh, hi,” I say to the four additional girls in my room. My room. My crowded, invaded room.

“Oh hey, babe! These are my sisters: Rachel, Liz, Elisa, and Lara.” They look nothing alike, as in: “Sorority sisters!” she shrieks for the sake of my confusion.

They all laugh at that and—shit.

“I hope it’s okay. When I told them about us, they just really wanted to meet you. They were at the show too.”


“We love your music. We play your stuff at the house all the time,” the redhead says.

“All the time,” Becca clarifies with an emphatic nod.

“That’s great. Uh, you mind if I get dressed?”

“What if we said yes?” The Blonde’s lashes flutter with mischief straight out of a ‘50s movie. A six-some? Is that even logistically possible?

I force a tight smile, and open my suitcase.

Whispers and giggles scatter behind me like I’m back in middle school. It’s not attractive and not at all how I planned for this night to go. No, I’m a pair of jeans and a t-shirt away from returning to the green room with the guys. Maybe they’ll be more interested in a college orgy.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to help pack up our gear. You ladies want to hang down in the green room?”

“We’d rather hang here.”

Becca is right there when she says it, and I take a step back.

For two seconds I hesitate. They’re cute. I’m horny… and then I remember my track record.

DEA Girl

Regret and Bolt Girl

Assault Girl

Omigod Girl who’s now multiplied into five Stalker Girls

Shoulder-Luke screams: Is it worth five Stalker Girls?

Is anything worth five Stalker Girls?

Then again, they’re cute and I’m horny.

I suck in a breath and grab a change of clothes. “Thanks for the offer, but as I said, we’ve gotta pack up. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Aww, you sure?” Becca asks. “We don’t mind waiting.” Her fingers trail up my arm, and I don’t know why I’m surprised by her boldness. She’s done nothing but overstep boundaries since the moment we met. I was okay with that until she multiplied.

“Sorry,” I say with a shrug, and back out of reach. “I’ll meet you down there.”

A chorus of whining reinforces my decision, and I’m relieved when they take the hint and file toward the door. I smile apologetically through a veil of disappointed looks as it clears out.

What the fuck?

I lower myself to the bed and run a hand through my hair. I’m twenty-three years old. A musician. Single. Why the hell can’t I find a sane girl? Not asking for a soulmate here, just a girl who won’t freaking try to kill me or invite an entire sorority house to intrude on our night together. Am I being unreasonable?

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with an update from the Queen of Kingdom Crazy.

Start the series now!
FREE with Kindle Unlimited

About the Author:

I’m a writer, musician, and cat lover. I also have an alternative music obsession. Seriously, it’s a real problem.

I write what needs to come out, whether it’s pain, tears, or laughter. I write people and relationships, about the beauty and horror of what we do to ourselves and each other. I write Love. Vengeance. Compassion. Cruelty. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness. Darkness, and the incredible way humans destroy and heal each other.

I like to eradicate barriers, refusing to be confined by the laws of physics or limitations of reality. I will befriend a vast population of possibilities and introduce them in ways that might surprise you.

Connect with Alyson!

Join her group:


#MondayShare 154

Night of the Wild Stags by Golden Angel


Need a taste of Night of the Wild Stags by Golden Angel?

This reverse harem shifter romance is off-the-charts HOT…

Go on, don’t be shy!


Alec wouldn’t even let her help. He sat her down at the counter, got her a glass of water, and made her a sandwich, chattering to her about the cabin and his brother and cousins the entire time. Apparently Dorian had gone to check out the property, the way he always did when they first arrived, making sure there had been no intruders while they were away and everything looked normal. Gavin was also napping, although he had shifted form and gone outside to his favorite place to do so, and Riley was in the garage tinkering with ‘something.’ Alec didn’t seem very interested in exactly what his brother was doing, but Kiara felt her curiosity rising. If she had a besetting sin, it was surely her desire to always want to ‘know.’

Which was how she ended up asking Alec questions she hadn’t intended to ask as they ate their sandwiches. He had seated himself beside her after preparing their food and his elbow kept brushing hers as they ate. The light touch was distracting, but in a pleasant way. There were little tingles in her stomach that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her hunger, because they kept increasing rather than going away as she ate.

“So… Jesse told me some things about deer herds, like you and your brother and cousins…” she said, her voice trailing off. She blushed as Alec looked up to meet her gaze, his own expression open and friendly. Since Jesse hadn’t known for sure, Kiara figured her ignorance might not be too strange even though she was a deer too. Pudu deer and red deer were obviously different. “Um… she said… that you might mate… um…”

“As a herd?” Alec asked, prompting her. Kiara felt her face flush bright red but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know the answer, so she nodded. Alec winked at her cheekily. “Yes, I’m pretty sure we will.”

The immediate feeling of jealousy rushing through her was startling, but Kiara pushed it away. Her doe made an odd growling noise in her head.

“How will you know when you’ve found her?” she asked. The tingles in her stomach had finally disappeared and had been replaced by an odd sinking feeling. Jesse had explained that some shifters found their ‘fated mate’ and their animals supposedly knew immediately when they’d found each other. Although Jesse hadn’t experienced it, one of her mate’s siblings had. Other shifters fell in love and claimed each other, usually using a bite… but Jesse hadn’t been sure what a deer herd mating would look like. She hadn’t known anything about them at all.

“Weeell…” Alec drawled out the word, setting down the quarter of a sandwich he hadn’t already devoured. He swiveled on his stool until he was facing her, leaning one elbow against the counter, placing the other on the back of her stool. Kiara felt breathless as he basically caged her in, but not with fear… her pulse was starting to race, and her lungs were tightening, but in a good way somehow. She felt her eyes widening as he leaned in towards her, his voice lowering to a seductive murmur that had her leaning in closer as well, so she could hear him better. “For one, we’d all have to be attracted to her. Our stags would have to be attracted to her as well. We’d want to get to know her. To court her. Show her what life with us could be like. And then when the time came, we’d claim her the way deer shifters do.”

Kiara was beginning to feel dizzy she was so breathless. Leaning in closer to Alec, he leaned in towards her as well, and she thought he might kiss her at any moment. Some part of her was screaming out a warning, saying she should pull back now, insisting this was a terrible idea and not to fall for his lines, but the rest of her just wanted this moment. This one moment, even if it never happened again when she felt like the heroine in the books she loved so much, where she felt desirable, and hopeful, like anything could happen, and happily-ever-afters were possible.

“How do deer shifters claim their mates?” She whispered the question, because she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to be any louder, and she didn’t need to be anyway with how close Alec was to her.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Well, it would start with something like this.”

Then he leaned in and kissed her.


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Kiara Arrio is on the run and dying when four tall, dark, and gorgeous strangers find her in a crumpled heap along the road to the hospital she was desperately trying to reach.

The small herd of stag shifters are immediately drawn to the injured woman, taking over her care as she recovers from her illness. They’re entranced by Kiara’s strength, her sass, and her sweetness, and do their best to woo her, hoping to claim her for their own.

There’s just one problem: Kiara already has a mate. And she certainly didn’t run away from one only to find herself with four more.


Night of the Wild Stags is a steamy standalone shifter Reverse Harem Romance, HEA guaranteed, set in Golden Angel’s Big Bad Bunnies world. It is not part of the BBB main story line and it is not necessary to read the BBB series in order to read this book.

About Angel

Angel is a self-described bibliophile with a “kinky” bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn’t get them out, she’s pretty sure she’d go just a little crazy.

She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.

She believes the world is a better place when there’s a little magic in it.

Find Angel Online!

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Everywhere Unraveled

Title: Everywhere Unraveled
Author: Fiona Keane
Genre: YA Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Fueled by coffee and rainy days, shelves of books consuming her home in the Pacific Northwest, and a vivid imagination, Fiona writes about love because she believes the world needs more of it. She could spend eternity lost in a story, taken into someone’s thoughts while she is left lingering there long after the pages have turned. Fiona works to meld themes in the current world and spin them into stories of longing, determination, and hope. Her characters are relatable and relevant, as they battle their own fictional version of existence.Author Links:

Buy Links:
Everywhere Unraveled:
I told myself not to look up, not to see the hurt I knew was there, but I didn’t listen to the wimpy voice inside my mind. I listened to my heart and his voice instead. He was feet away, approaching with hesitation, and his hazel eyes were hauntingly void of the magnetic golden sparkle that beckoned my heart.
“Soph.” Jameson’s fingers wrapped around my shoulders, slowly shaking me to reality. He was crying. His eyes were moist, threatened by tears.
“I…I’m sorry.” I fell into him, my body crashing against his with such a force that we nearly tumbled onto the pavement. His arms tightened around my back, adhering us to one another. It was a bittersweet suffocation because I knew I still had to leave. I needed to breathe.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered above my head, lifting a palm to press my face against his chest. I was beginning to sniffle, more tears obstructing my vision, when I struggled to wiggle from his hold.
“Please let me,” I replied, lifting my head back to see his face. He had aged in the last hour alone, fearful, unsure, and lost. Just like me.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere.” I inhaled, absorbing what I could of him while tightly closing my eyes.
The soft crackling hum of his anxious voice flowed into my ears, torturing my confidence. “Let me come with you.”
“Not this time, Jameson.”
“At least let me take you somewhere so I know you’re safe.”
My head shook, a heavy sigh trembling from my lips. “Jameson?”
“Yes, Soph?”
“This might sound strange, but do you remember the first time we touched one another? Like when our hands…”
He interrupted me, his eyes knowingly scanning mine. “At school. I was leaving late because I had to finish an art project and you wouldn’t let me drive you home. I tried to take your hand. And…yes, I remember.”
“The feeling?”
“Yes.” He nodded, swallowing in anticipation of my words.
My lungs slowly steadied, only a few ragged hiccup breaths dribbled from my throat. I blew some air out, steadying my nerves before continuing. “I can’t forget it. It’s like an electric current that just runs through my body now, like it’s part of my bloodstream and part of some system that keeps me…”
“Alive.” His expression softened, comprehending my words entirely.
“And,” I continued, blushing through my damp cheeks, “when you promised youd keep away my nightmares, the first time you spent the night in my room. You let me sleep on you when you barely knew me.”
“I wanted to know you. I told you that, Soph.” Jameson released his hold around my body and lifted his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks tightly. “You broke down my walls, Sophia Reid. I can’t move forward without you as my foundation. I won’t.”


Follow Me Back

Follow Me Back

The next seductive, unforgettable stand-alone romance in the FIGHT FOR ME series from NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson . . .

Coming February 5th

“This is why I read romance.” – Lauren Rowe, USA Today and International Bestselling Author
The next seductive, unforgettable stand-alone romance in the FIGHT FOR ME series from NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson . . .
Kale Bryant. Arrogant. Gorgeous. Commanding.
This ER doctor is married to his job. His only vice is one-night stands and short-lived flings. He learned a long time ago loving someone isn’t worth the risk.
Harley Hope Masterson. Beautiful. Brave. Sweet.
The owner of a small coffee shop knows what it’s like to struggle. Embroiled in a bitter divorce, she’s threatened with losing everything.
When Kale accepts a new position down the street from Hope’s shop, he begins to question every wall he’s built around his heart.
He wants her in a way he hasn’t wanted anyone.
One touch is fire.
One kiss, and he’s spinning out of control.
But taking her won’t come without consequences.
Hope is in for the fight of her life. One neither of them saw coming.
Now Kale must decide if loving her is worth risking it all.
She will fight with everything she has.
But sometimes even hope needs a hero . . .
Be notified of LIVE RELEASE on Amazon

© 2018 A.L. Jackson Books



I watched him stride across the café toward the door, hating the way everything tightened when he did.

His or mine, I wasn’t sure.

But it was there.


Pressing on my heart.

I couldn’t stop from watching him through the big windows as he started down the sidewalk, the man a scorching silhouette in the blaze of the day.

But he didn’t climb into his car that was parked at the curb.

He began to pace.

A pace that looked like indecision and turmoil.

Back and forth right on the other side of the window.

His head tilted back toward the sky, as if it might hold an answer, before he set his coffee and the lollipops down on one of the open tables, dug in his pocket, and pulled out his phone.

“You’re an idiot,” Jenna hissed from beside me. “That guy likes you, and he’s literally the hottest thing to ever walk through that door. And he bought All. The. Lollipops.”

Maybe that was part of the problem.

“I don’t get simple,” was my response.

“What if he doesn’t want simple?”

I would have answered her, told her that in the end, everyone did. They always took the easy way out when the going got tough. Except the café phone rang. I moved for it, thankful for the distraction, something to keep my feet from rounding the counter and running after him.

Because what the hell would that accomplish?

I lifted the receiver from the wall and pressed it to my ear. “A Drop of Hope. How can I help you?”

“Go out with me.” His gravelly voice echoed through the line.

A surprised sound whispered from my lips, and Kale was suddenly at the window, his face pressed to the glass, hand shading his eyes so he could see inside. His other hand was holding his cell to his ear. “Go out with me, Hope. Just dinner. Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. Couldn’t after I saw you the first time at Olive’s on Friday night. It only got worse after I saw you here Monday morning. I don’t know what it is about you . . . but there’s something that makes me want to figure it out.”

My breaths were hard pants, my heart a jackhammer in my chest. “My life’s complicated, Kale.”

“And I’m offering you a night away from it. Don’t you at least deserve that?”

I wanted to beg him, what then? What happened if I fell for that smirk and that smile and those tender eyes?

Fast and hard?

I could already feel myself slipping. My heart tipping his direction.

What happened if Dane found out?

What then?

But I was so tired of that man controlling every aspect of my life, even after I’d made the decision to cut him from it.

Jenna was suddenly in my face, gripping my wrist, her voice a hard, demanding whisper. “You tell him yes, Harley Hope. Don’t you dare hang up that phone without telling him yes. You deserve something just for you. Just for you.”

Indecision swarmed, questions and worries and want.

But it was the feeling balled in my stomach that trembled the floor beneath my feet.

The urge to reach out and touch on the beauty and tenderness that swam in his eyes. To discover if it was real.

The throb of desire that begged, a whisper in my ear that goaded—just one touch.

The hidden need to feel those hands skating my flesh.

I guessed I’d thought I’d never crave that again, my life fulfilled, my spirit content in knowing I was living for what was right.

Jenna squeezed tighter, my bossy best friend mouthing the word as she angled her head with the demand. “Say yes.”

It was at the same second Kale fisted his hand against the window, his forehead rocking against it, his own words a petition. “Come on, Hope. Say yes. I promise you, you won’t regret it.”

A hint of playfulness came out on the last, but it didn’t matter, because I was agreeing.

“Yes,” I murmured, wanting to feel something good even though I wasn’t so much a fool that I didn’t know I was making a mistake. That in the end, it wouldn’t hurt.

Because it already felt as if this mattered.

As if he mattered.

“Okay. One night. Just dinner,” I reiterated.

He breathed out in what sounded like relief. “Just dinner.”

As if anything could ever be as simple as that.

Do you want a quick mobile update letting you know Follow Me Back is live?

Text “aljackson” to 33222 


Be notified of LIVE RELEASE on Amazon


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, and BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for A.L. Jackson’s upcoming novel, FOLLOW ME BACK, the second stand-alone novel in her brand-new FIGHT FOR ME SERIES.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

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#MondayShare 95

First Life

Title: First Life

Author: Rose Garcia
Genre: YA Sci-Fi/Paranormal
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Dominique has survived the final attempt on her life only to discover that someone connected to her future will suffer her same fate. Determined to spare this innocent loved one from being hunted for lifetimes, Dominique and her remaining allies travel to first life with a mission to alter destiny. When Dominique and her companions arrive in the past, they are confronted with a reality they didn’t expect, and are shocked by a turn of events that threaten to change everything they know.
A prequel that starts where Final Death leaves off, First Life delivers heart-stopping action and gut-wrenching emotional turmoil. Be sure to read Final Life, Final Stand, and Final Death before delving into the unpredictable world of First Life.

Rose Garcia is a lawyer turned writer who’s always been fascinated by science fiction and fantasy. From a very young age, she often had her nose buried in books about other-worlds, fantastical creatures, and life and death situations. More recently she’s been intrigued by a blend of science fiction and reality, and the idea that some supernatural events are, indeed, very real. Fueled by her imagination, she created The Final Life Series—a Young Adult science fiction/fantasy series about people who have the ability to control the energy in and around them. Rose is known for bringing richly diverse characters to life as she draws from her own cultural experiences. Rose lives in Houston, Texas with her awesome husband and two amazing kids. You can visit Rose at
Author Links:
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Buy Links for Final Life Series:
Final Life: (FREE)
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Final Stand:
Final Death:
First Life Pre-Order Link: 




Infiniti chewed her ghostly bottom lip as I stomped to the center of the room, barking orders. “Dominique, get to the back of the room. Trent, come with me.” Trent and Dominique stayed close, neither one wanting to break from the other.
“Oh my God, Fleet, they’re gearing up,” Infiniti said, her translucent form alternating between being in the house and looking outside. “They’re putting on vests and things.”
“We gotta move,” I urged Trent and Dominique. “Now.”
“Yeah,” Infiniti echoed. “Like, right the hell now.”
Trent planted a kiss on Dominique. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” Letting go of her, he came over to me.
With no time to focus on anything but our mission, I gripped his hands. “Concentrate on your energy. Think of the Boardman, think of the year 1868.” Standing with Trent, a Supreme Transhuman with incredible yet unharnessed abilities, I had to believe he could help me get to 1868. He kept glancing at Dominique. I gave his hands a death-grip squeeze. “Listen, man, I need you to be right here with me, got it?”
He blew out, his stare fixed on me. “Got it.”
“Good. Help me get there, and I’ll get the job done. Okay?”
“Okay,” he answered. “And I’ll break our connection right before you time jump.”
“Exactly,” I said. 
“Okay,” Trent muttered. “I can do that.”
I had no idea if he could do it or not, but it didn’t matter. We needed to act. With my face cast down, I closed my eyes and pictured the Boardman River area in my mind. Back in 1868 we lived in small, simple cabins—Stone and Caris, Dominique’s parents, were in one cabin with Dominique. My brother Farrell, our friend Jake, and myself were in another. There was also a third cabin for visitors. Traveling to a time and space I inhabited would merge my current self to my other self. All I needed to do when I arrived was find Tavion and kill him. 
“They’re coming to the door!” Infiniti cried out in a panic.
Commanding my power to flow from me, I kept the cabins, the woods, and the river clear in my mind. “Go there,” I whispered.
My skin warmed. My insides tingled. My body lifted off the ground. Opening my eyes, I saw shades of gray and blue energy swirling about the room. The vapors crackled with sparks. Heat started filling my airways. It was working.
“They’re ready to kick the door down!” Infiniti screamed.
Dominique held up her hands, protecting herself from the tornadic-like activity in the house, her hair whipping wildly about her face. Infiniti dodged from inside to outside, giving a play-by-play account of how the police were about to bust in. Trent’s body shone as bright as a blue-bathed sun. I could barely look at him.
“1868! The Boardman!” I hollered to Trent. A surge of weightlessness took over me. Seconds away from the time jump, I yanked my hands from Trent’s, but couldn’t break away. His hold was iron-clad. If he had any chance of staying in this time, he needed to release me before it was too late.
“Trent! Let go!” 
In flashes of energy-filled chaos, a host of cops charged into the house. Trent turned to face them. “Get back,” he said in an eerily calm voice.
The cops slammed up against the ceiling and stuck there, like rubberized toy figures with sticky-glue on them. Their weapons clunked to the ground. Infiniti shrieked. Dominique lunged for Trent. Everything went black.



#ThursdayShare 58



DOn't Be Afraid front


A Second Chance Contemporary Romance

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew,

knew that they were put in your life for a reason?

The one person that would be not only your best friend,

but would be your absolute everything?

That’s how I felt the first time I saw him.

That one day when a few little words changed our entire lives forever…

Don’t be Afraid, he said.

Life can change so quickly.

One moment you can be smiling and feeling as if you’re walking on clouds and the next, everything you love, everything you treasure crumbles at your feet.

I told him to fight, I told him I needed him.

We needed him.

But there are just some fights that can’t be won…

He was my angel then, and he’s still my angel now.

In a way, I believe he’s still looking out for us, giving us a future.

Sometimes it’s as if I can still feel his presence,

guiding us and keeping us safe.

So, I won’t be Afraid.

I’ll live. I’ll fight.

It’s what he would have wanted.

I’ll do it for him…

Releasing January 30th

Add to Goodreads:




I sat in the darkness with my legs curled up in the chair, my body shielded by the large blanket I had wrapped around me. I’d thought of going to bed a long time ago, but instead, I was listening to the Pat’s breathing patterns.

This was his third night sleeping in the hospital bed in the center of our living room, and though he hated it, I knew it was easier for him to sleep on than our old worn out couch.

Each night after he’d fallen asleep, I tried to go to bed, but I eventually found myself back in the living room, watching him and listening to his breathing. I guess I needed it for my piece of mind. Though his breaths were weak and labored, I still needed to be able to hear them. I think in some weird way it was comforting.

When he was asleep he wasn’t angry or fighting to push people away. He was just peaceful. I needed to see him this way, I guess, because the hard times were beginning to drown out those happy memories and each day I found it more and more difficult to hold myself together.

The room was dark, save for the illumination from the light above the sink in the kitchen. The gentle hum of the refrigerator was the only other sound. I’m not sure at what point I allowed myself to fall asleep, but I was jolted awake by the sound of his raspy voice filtering through the darkness.


I sat up straight and the cover slipped from my shoulders as I leaned forward, looking him over from head to toe. My heart raced as the thought of being here alone with him when something catastrophic happened. The moment my eyes reached his, I found him staring back at me.

“Is everything okay?” He shook his head, and my heart seized in my chest. I stood and walked toward his bed, my hands shaking as I did my best to stay in control of my fears. “What hurts?”

He lifted his hand and rested it over his heart.

I stared at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry.” I could sense whatever it was on his mind was hard for him to face as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Please don’t hate me.”

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

“Why would I hate you?” I took his hand and offered a gentle squeeze. “I could never hate you, Patrick.”

“I’ve been such an ass and knowing this, but unable to control it breaks me.”

“You’re going through so much,” I said as I sat on the edge of his bed.

“So are you.”

I closed my eyes for only a moment when he ran his fingers through my hair that hung loose over my shoulders. “I’ve allowed the fear to consume me and gave it the power to make me forget what I have. I’m just scared.”

I opened my eyes, and his cheeks were wet from the tears he tried to control.

“I’m so scared of everything I’m gonna miss. I’m scared of not being here to protect you an Abigail.” He took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want you to be alone, Sawyer.”



C.A. Harms is like any other addicted reader. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. She hasn’t always been a lover of Romance and had once been addicted to a good Mystery. Just recently she has taken on a new liking and now is a full blown Romance novel addict.

She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. You will always find her with her kindle or paperback in hand as it is her favorite pass time.



Title: Pulse

Author: KE Osborn

Series: The Luminous Rock Series #1

Genre: Rockstar Romance

Release Date: January 17

She makes my pulse race.
From the moment I laid eyes on her in that ridiculous giraffe onesie, I knew this girl would rock my world.
Effa’s the lead singer of the world-famous rock band, Luminous.
And I’m their new lighting tech, Kaden ‘Mercs’ Mercury.
Going on tour with an all-female rock band would be simple you’d think, but these girls aren’t an easy push-over.
All the while things back home are taking a turn for the worse, and I’m losing a battle of my own that might come back to bite me on the ass if I’m not careful. My only distraction from the ensuing chaos – a bubbly blonde lead singer, destined to brighten my life.
But with an all-male backup band, tensions are bound to run high when jealousy flares, and lines are blurred.
She sets my pulse racing, but am I enough to kickstart her heart?

Sweat beads on my brow as I pant and huff from the heavy lifting and packing. But eventually, the space is cleared, and now the room that looked like chaos has an open floor. There’s currently two stacks, one for lighting and equipment, and the other for their costly instruments and amps.

This is how it must be done. This is the breakdown that will happen at the end of every show, and this is how things will be run with me in charge. I hope the Luminous crew is ready for me.

I’m fucking hot. All this exertion has me working up one hell of a sweat. My white shirt is sticking to me uncomfortably, so I figure I’ll just take the fucker off. I pull it up over my head and flop it onto my shoulder. Wiping my brow with my hand, I let out a puff of air as I hear a round of applause from behind me.

I jump, spinning so fast I almost slip over, as I turn toward the back of the stage. There I see a tiny framed woman sitting on the end of the stairs staring at me. If that wasn’t strange enough that she’s appeared out of nowhere, she’s wearing a giraffe onesie—in Phoenix, Arizona, in the middle of a scorching hot July. She continues clapping like she’s excited, and I turn around wondering what she’s clapping at. As I look around us, I don’t see anything particularly exciting. So I stare back in her direction as she smiles at me brightly.

“You did amazing!” she calls out.

“Umm… what?”

She looks over at the equipment I’ve been working hard on, for the last probably three hours, and she smiles again. Her smile is unnerving me. She’s far too pretty and far too old to be wearing a giraffe onesie.

What’s with that?

“All that heavy lifting, and not to mention the sorting… I never would have thought to do that! It’s so… organized. It’s much better than how we were doing it.”

I raise my brow, looking around to see if I’m being Punked or something, but again, no one else is here. So I look back to her. “When you say how we were doing it, you mean…”

She jumps from the stage and walks toward me, the giraffe onesie seems almost too big for her as she saunters forward, her cute button nose wrinkling as she continues to smile that dazzling smile at me. It’s so confusing, she looks like a kid, but the face beneath that childish outfit is all woman. She’s so strange. This woman is peculiar, whoever she is.

“Us… the band.” She waves her hands around. “We’re not a very organized bunch. But you seem to know what you’re doing, and that’s great. You can keep us in line, right?”

“You’re with the band?”

She giggles, the sound husky yet delicate at the same time. My cock twitches and I tense my muscles not liking the strange effect this woman is having on me.

“Sure am. I’m Effa, that’s short for Effervescent… you know like the bubbles that make people happy. I like to be the bright light in people’s lives and lift people up when they’re feeling down. I’m the sparkle, the pizazz if you will,” she chatters on while bringing her hands up to her face and twinkles her fingers like she’s doing those stupid spirit fingers from that movie.

A lump forms in my throat as I look at her not knowing if she’s being serious or not. I’m not sure how to take this little interaction we’re having. But the smile on her face and the calmness in her eyes tells me she’s dead serious.

“Wow! That’s ahh… great?” I reply more like a question, kind of unsure what else to say.

She nods, putting out her hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things. I’m assuming you’re Kaden? Our new lighting tech?”

I place my hand out to shake. My fingers overlap hers. Taking in her tiny hand, I almost envelop it entirely while warmth shoots up my arm when I take hold of her. Then I shake it, once. My reaction shocks me slightly making my answer to her question delayed, so I look back up at her with a half-smile. “Mercs. Everyone calls me, Mercs.”

She giggles that fucking adorable giggle again, and I take a deep breath as she assesses me, looking at my obvious bare chest. “Mercs.” My name rolls off her tongue as she raises her brow. “Sounds expensive… like a fast car.”

I grin and tilt my head. “Na nothing like that. My last name’s Mercury… nothing fancy.”

Her eyes light up, and she bounces on her toes. “Oh, my! Are you related to Freddy? Please tell me you are! He’s a lyrical genius. A melodic mastermind. A gifted God. Oh praise Gaia, please tell me it’s true?” she asks, grabbing my other hand and gazing desperately into my eyes looking so full of hope.

I almost feel sorry that I’m going to have to disappoint her. Wincing, I shake my head with a grimace. “Sorry, no relation. But I do love Bohemian Rhapsody.”

She gasps. “Oh man, me too! That and A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton. Oh, Gaia, that song gets me every time.”

I let out a bemused laugh. Those songs couldn’t be more polar opposite if they tried. Shaking my head, I look down to see our hands are still joined, and she looks down too and chuckles rubbing her thumbs over my skin. It sends a tingle up my arms.

“Your skin is really smooth for a roadie. Do you moisturize?”

I laugh again. What the hell is with this chick? She’s something else. “Umm… no. Just my natural umm… softness?” The last word comes out in a higher tone, and I’m not even sure it’s what I meant to say.

She tilts her stature and brings my hand up to her cheek, placing my open palm on her face. Her cheek is warm and velvety soft to the touch. Her cheeks are flushed slightly pink against her pale face, which I’m pretty sure has little to no makeup on. Even though, she still looks stunning. I tense up wondering what the hell she’s doing. I look around to see if anyone’s watching, but there’s definitely no one around. I look back and notice her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling wide while holding my hand with hers.

“Umm…” I murmur as she sways from side to side like she’s in some kind of trance.

“Shhh… I’m feeling your energy.”

My muscles tense completely and I swallow hard wondering what the hell kind of world I’ve stepped into.

I’m pretty sure I am being Punked.

Ashton, you can come out now!

“My energy…” I ask and trail off in a hushed tone like somehow I’m going to interrupt her flow.

What the fuck?

“Yes, you have a calm energy. But for some reason, you’re very tense right now. You also have a nervousness about you, like you have a big problem weighing you down.”

I furrow my brows at her detailed, and somehow completely accurate reading of me, and I pull back in shock. My hand dropping from her face as our fingers finally disconnect.

She opens her eyes and looks at me with a weak smile. “It’s okay, I know I’m eerily accurate at these things.”

I step back and take a deep breath. “How can you tell all that from me touching your face?”

She half-smiles, her bright, happy demeanor changing slightly. “I can sense things. I’m in tune with the world and its energy. Some say it’s hippy shit. Some say I have psychic abilities. I don’t really know. I call it my gift. Gaia gave it to me. It helps me sing. Helps me give my gift to the world so I can connect with people… you know?”

I furrow my brows. “Can you read minds and shit?”

She bursts out laughing, so hard she bends over grabbing at her stomach, her giraffe hoodie falling forward over her face, looking actually a little bit cute as she rambles on it a fit of hysteria.

I tilt my stature in annoyance, and as if to sense my annoyance she stands up straight and looks at me, still giggling, but shaking her head and sighing with a long puff of air.

“Oh Mercs, you kill me. No. No one can read minds. That’s parlor tricks. I don’t have ESPN or whatever it’s called.” I bite my lips and try to hide my smile. “I’m just me. Effa. Lead singer of Luminous, and you are our savior. Thank you for fixing us. I can’t wait for you to make our stage shows far more like betterer or… something like that.”

I laugh and nod my head. “Betterer… that I can do.”

“Great! So Luke has sent through all the details of our show to you I’m assuming?”

I nod. “Sure has. Including the set list. I downloaded all the songs and choreographed a lighting show for it based on the live stream of the Cali performance. So it’s similar, just with a few improvements and tweaks. You’ll still have all your lighting cues, they’ll just be better… and, more importantly, on time.”

She smiles wide then lets out a heavy sigh. “I think I’m going to like having you around, Mercs. I like people who are organized, seeing as the roadies are so unorganized. We need people on our team to keep us in line. You might be just the man we need.”

“I’ll do my best, Effa,” I reply and she nods.

Her face takes on a more serious tone than before. “That’s all I ask.”


Australian author K E Osborn was born and raised in Adelaide, South Australia. With a background in graphic design and a flair for all things creative, she felt compelled to write the story brewing in her mind.
Writing gives her life purpose. It makes her feel, laugh, cry, and get completely enveloped with the characters and their story lines. She feels completely at home when writing and wouldn’t consider doing anything else.

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Full Contact


FULL CONTACT, a brand new standalone by USA TODAY Bestselling Authors
HJ Bellus & Kathy Coopmans is releasing January 10th!

Pre-Order available now: iTUNES | NOOK | KOBO


FULL CONTACT by HJ Bellus & Kathy Coopmans
Sports Romance
A mafia princess. The nation’s favorite football player. Can they make it work?
An unlikely matching of the stars.
The opposites had it all for one year.
Justice Bexley, the daughter of Cain and Calla leaders of The Diamond Syndicate, sacrificed true love to protect Liam. Her selfish action destroyed them both.
Liam Blake moved on with his prestigious career. However, his outlook on life was never the same. If his parents could fight for true love with a Pinky Promise he can keep moving forward. At least he tried convincing himself of that.
Some say true love has a way of finding its way back. Justice and Liam know better to believe. That’s up until the day they find themselves in a heated meeting.
She owns a new football team.
He’s coming back from an injury and thirsty to prove the nation wrong.
Years of pent-up anger and hatred may fuel an epic second chance love story or ruin both of them for good.
Find out in FULL CONTACT by HJ Bellus & Kathy Coopmans.
Pre-Order your copy: iTUNES | NOOK | KOBO
Full Contact Teaser 4.jpg

I’ve canceled my date for the evening. Natasha something or other. Hated to do it to her after meeting her at the gym and promising her she could show me around town.

I don’t need her or anyone else showing me around. Well, maybe one person, but I can’t seem to pull my head out of my ass to try and apologize to her. I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret again, and in my position regret needs to stay as far away from me as I’ve been of Justice.

I step into the crowded bar called Whiskey Jacks. The few locals I’ve talked to say it’s the happening joint in downtown Boise, even on weekdays. The scene is not my usual. Especially at the moment, since half of the people in here have stopped talking, mouths dropping to the floor when I walk by.

My mood is shit, so I nod and smile. Shake a few guys’ hands and keep moving.

I came here to play football and seek revenge. It seems revenge has a funny and twisted way of blowing back on me. I’m experiencing it firsthand with every glimpse of the only woman I’ve ever loved. She’s everywhere.

Thoughts and dreams on the field. Hell, she’s even in my bed at night when I have my hand wrapped around my dick.

Seeing her is gutting me. It draws back so much pent-up frustration that there are days when I wished I hadn’t let my injury get as far as it did. If it didn’t, I might not be here right now, might not have admitted that my feelings for her are still alive and burning inside of me.

I knew my shoulder was causing me issues before it gave out on me. Little did I know that a flare-up of bone spurs caught in between my muscles would trigger my shoulder to freeze.

It happened so fast when I threw the ball down the field that I had no time to react before I was slammed into from both sides, heard it crunch with the impact from the ground. It shattered and ripped all the way up my neck. It fucked me all up.

Enough to where I had two surgeries within three months, multiple therapy sessions, and a backup quarterback who finished out the season and took our team to the playoffs. The guy respectively ended up taking over my position.

I was let go during negotiations. I knew I would eventually heal, but there was no way in hell I was sitting on the sidelines watching someone else do my job. It’s not in my DNA. Football is the one true love that’s never let me down. I get a natural high every single time I step on the football field. My mom always reminds me how I carried around footballs since I was one.

“Shit,” I grumble to myself, shaking my thoughts free. Justice Bexley has poisoned everything in my life. Now even thoughts of football take me right to her.

I suppose they should, being that she’s technically my boss and the sight of her gets my dick hard and raises my blood pressure to the roof the few times I’ve caught her watching us practice. She’s going to be involved in my life more than she was when we were dating.

The thought of her owning me in a way has me wanting to prove to her more than to myself that I’m ready to help this team, her family, and the fans bring us to the top.

“What can I get you, number eleven?” The busty redhead leans over the bar more than necessary, giving me quite the cleavage show.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to bait the nasty words I want to spew back at her. Ever since the first press conference announcing my arrival, shit like this happens everywhere I go. After Justice left me, I loved it; hell, I welcomed it. Now, it’s old and quite pathetic.

Even the way some of the female reporters act drives me nuts. I’ve rolled my eyes more than I’ve answered their questions.

“Shit,” I mutter. My mind taking me to the press conference coming up. If I thought the first meeting was hell, then this one with her will be hell on damn steroids. Playing nice with the camera all the while sitting next to Justice. Her scent making me drunk and hard as fucking stone. Yeah, not a good sign for the press. No doubt in my mind they won’t feel and see the tension. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they aren’t circling around us like sharks just waiting to ask about our past either.

That ought to be a goddamn stampede gone wild.

“Crown and coke. Double.” I turn on the barstool pretending to study the crowd, hoping the woman behind the bar remembers she’s here to do a job and not pick me up. This will be my last drink for a long time. Hell, shouldn’t even be having it in the first place, but I’m only human, after all.

“Here you go, handsome.” She slides the clear tumbler full of dark amber liquid my way.

I pull out a twenty and slide it across the bar before going to another barstool in the corner. I take one pull of the drink feeling the whiskey burn all the way down. In an odd way, the fiery liquid calms my already hyped-up, fueled nerves.

That is until I see a flash of blonde hair shaking her sweet ass on the dance floor. My spine stiffens along with something else when my eyes stay glued to her backside. Fucking hell.

Once I focus in on the vision, I swear out loud to everyone and no one at all. “Son of a bitch.”

Those damn leather shorts are tight as hell, and those legs of hers that go on for days have always been my greatest weakness. Back then, she knew it and would expose them all the time. Justice is fit athletically. That sweet body of hers is combined with curves that were created to drive men wild. I stare at her long, exposed legs rocking with the song. “Hey, Blake.”

I hear a distant voice but ignore it, choosing to watch Justice dance with another woman. The friend’s face is familiar. I know I should be able to place it, but I can’t focus on a damn thing except for that tight little ass.

Fingernails run along my shoulder, forcing me to look away from the dance floor. A petite little brunette this time. A damn gorgeous one at that. Voluptuous body and a face to match, but she does nothing to my rock-hard dick desperately trying to punch a hole through my zipper.

I’m so damn distracted I offer up a weak smile and glance back to the dance floor to see a man walk up behind Justice and grab her from behind. His hands are touching my favorite thing I’ve ever held in my hands. Her.

I see every single shade of red. It’s one thing to have to be around the woman, but it’s something totally different when another man is involved. Justice spins around, and the soon-to-be dead man wastes no time putting his mouth on hers.

Hell to the motherfucking no.

It’s the final straw that snaps me in half. A broken man seeing white-hot flashes scatter all around and not thinking rationally isn’t a good combination, but it’s a force so torrid I lose all sense of control.

I stand up, my angered body gently shoving the brunette next to me away. For one tiny second, I contemplate on guzzling my drink down. “Fuck it.” There isn’t enough alcohol to numb me right now.

In six long, powerful strides I’m on the dance floor next to them, and when the pencil dick asshole slides his hand down to her ass, I lose all sense of reasoning. I am pissed.

“Justice,” I growl and watch the man turn five shades of white from either whatever she said to him or from seeing me with my fists ready to knock him the fuck out.

Cascades of blonde locks tumble over her shoulder as she whips her head in my direction. She was in the middle of ripping the man a new asshole, I’m sure of it. She halted once she heard her name.

She lifts a perfectly sculpted brow, her anger directed toward me. Yeah, this feisty little princess and me need to have words.

I don’t say another word before grabbing her upper arm and leading her out of Whiskey Jacks. I don’t give two shits she may have left her purse behind either. I don’t stop until we are out on the sidewalk. The chaotic storm inside of me that just hit an all-time high doesn’t give a shit about anything right now except telling her off.

“What in the fuck?” I growl, nearing my face to hers.


“Goddamn right, it’s Liam. Quite the little stunt out there on the dance floor.” I dig my fingers into her hips as I tug her to me.

FULL CONTACT is a standalone, crossover novel between Pinky Promise by HJ Bellus and The Wrath of Cain by Kathy Coopmans.