Thursday, June 30, 2016

{ promo } review || MINE TO HAVE { release day } by Jade Sinner



I didn't ask for any of it. I didn't want any of it.

I had a life. A playboy reputation and money to burn.

But then it happened...all the things I didn't want...

Most of my family gone—taken by a distracted driver.

My father's multi-billion-dollar conglomerate thrust upon me.

And her, Lacy, my niece (sort of), in need of a guardian.

Here's the moral of this story (the only one): life doesn't give us what we want.

Or does it?

Three years later...Lacy's an adult and right under my nose, almost literally. No longer a girl, she's a woman with sexy curves and a way of taking over my every thought. I know it isn't right—she calls me uncle—but then again...maybe it is time for life to give me what I want. After all, she was given to me.

She's mine to have.

**These characters are not really related.

Warning: This is a fun, dirty book about forbidden love with a predictable HEA. If you like that sort of thing, it's guaranteed to make you grin. There's no cheating, and it's embarrassingly hot. We took a storyline that everyone has heard and pushed it beyond its limits. Then again, this quick read might not be for you, but if it is, we promise not to tell your secret.

If you decide to give Mine to Have a try, know you were warned!

Max will have you calling UNCLE!

Mine to Have-Teaser-1

Mine to Have-Teaser-2


Jade Sinner is two friends, two New York Times bestselling authors, and two chicks with a secret. We like to write sexy, dirty books—the kind of books that would make both of our mothers blush. Since we don't want to see that across the Thanksgiving dinner table, we came together and created Jade. If you have a secret too—if you like to read books that make you not only blush but flush—if you like quick reads, hot guys, naughty love stories, super-steamy sex scenes, and the promise of always having an HEA (Happily Ever After) then we have the books for you. We won't tell your secret if you don't tell ours... Then again, if you like our books and you don't mind telling the world about our dirty little secret, by all means, please, share! We promise to keep writing until we have enough to keep you and your friends busy with bookgasms late into the night! You're welcome!

{ review } .

This new addition of Jade Sinner to the erotica world has been a bit... back and forth for this reader. I'm all about the fantasy and I like a well written erotica from time to time. But there's erotica, and then there's erotica -- straight out of a porn video. If it's written well, I don't care -- I can get lost in the fantasy of it all and be just fine.

I really liked Cherry Popper, and was surprised at how much I liked it due to the fact I wasn't 100% ecstatic about Duncan prior. When I read this synopsis, I knew it was going to play on the fantasy side of the erotica world. For me personally, I didn't feel the emotional connection between Lacey and Max. It was just an almost thirty year old man who wanted his nineteen year old not-really-niece. Don't get me wrong, the sexual thoughts and the acts, as well, were extremely well written -- there just wasn't any sort of connect for me. That and it drives me freaking batty when people do the whole "daddy" thing, and Lacey calling Max 'Uncle' well after their new relationship is established... Just annoyed me.

But that's me.

The fantasy is on point. The sex is sizzling and more than on point.

This was a super quick, steamy read, sure to rock your socks off in some manner or another.

{ promo } LOOK THROUGH ME { first look } by Shannon McKenna

First Look Celebration for Shannon McKenna’s Right Through Me
NYTimes and USA Today bestselling author Shannon McKenna launches The Obsidian Files with RIGHT THROUGH ME, a pulse-pounding tale of thrilling suspense and searing passion. A beautiful fugitive and a biotech tycoon with strange powers must face the lethal rage of a vicious enemy bent on their annihilation.
2 winners will receive a $10 Amazon Giftcard & 2 winners will receive an e-copy of choice from Shannon’s backlist!
Stranger, speak softly...

Biotech tycoon Noah Gallagher has a deadly secret: his clandestine training as a super-soldier gives him abilities that go far beyond human. Yet he's very much a man. When Caro Bishop shows up at his Seattle headquarters with a dangerous secret agenda, his ordered life is thrown into chaos. Caro is a woman like no other—and her luminously sensual beauty cloaks a mystery he must solve.

Caro's lying low, evading a false charge of murder. She means to clear her name, and she'll do whatever it takes to survive—but seducing a man like Noah is more than she bargained for. His amber eyes have the strangest glow when he looks at her—she could swear he sees the secrets of her heart. The desire smoldering in Noah's eyes awakens her own secret hunger, but Caro has to resist his magnetic pull. Anyone close to her becomes a target. The only right thing to do is run, far and fast, but Caro can't outrun Noah's ferocious intensity—or deny the searing passion that explodes between them.

Nothing else matters—until a vicious enemy bent on the ultimate revenge puts his murderous plan into play. Noah and Caro must battle for their lives...and their love...
Find out more at Goodreads | Shannon’s Website  

Exclusive Excerpt:
Welcome to the secret and dangerous world of The Obsidian Files!
I love stories about people forced to widen the idea of what it means to be a human being, as well as stories about what it would be like to be superhuman.  Now that the technology to augment, enhance, even design human beings is becoming an accepted reality, it fascinates me even more.
My hero, charismatic biotech tycoon Noah Gallagher, has a deadly secret—he’s more than human. As a teenager, he was swept up into the Obsidian program, a plan to create super-soldiers using gene splicing and nanotech. Noah led the other modified kids in a desperate rebellion. They barely escaped with their lives and went deep underground.
Now, years later, Noah’s crew now hides in plain sight, careful to mask their uncanny abilities. All except for breakaway element Mark Olund, a psychopath who uses his abilities to enrich himself.  Mark is a threat Noah’s group, so when Mark’s mistress, Caro Bishop, suddenly shows up near Noah’s Seattle headquarters working as a bellydancer, Noah’s sister decides that they need a closer look at her. Preferably one using Noah’s enhanced eyes.
But Caro has a secret, too. She’s running away from a false charge of murder. Mark Olund killed her boss, and has been hunting her relentlessly ever since. She’s the only one with the biometrics to open a safe that will unleash a terrible weapon onto the world.
This nightmare has to stop, one way or another. If no one else can help, she’ll do it herself. But in the meantime, a girl had to eat and pay her rent and bus fare. She’s been bellydancing to survive, and this gig seemed just like any other—until she set eyes on the mind-blowingly handsome recepient of her dance . . .

Caro narrowly missed slamming her hip into the table. For the third time.
Look away from the guy, for God’s sake. Get a grip. It’s just a dance.
But her gaze kept getting sucked back to Noah Gallagher, the birthday boy. Ultra-powerful CEO of the oh-so-myserious Angel Enterprises, cutting-edge biotech firm.
The man was gorgeous. Barrel chested. A dense slab of muscle. Short hair showed off the sharp planes and angles of his face, a wide, strong jaw. He wore shaded glasses, but he’d taken them off a few seconds into her bellydance, and it was incredibly hard to stay focused on the music and remember her moves while being examined with such blazing intensity. It made her lose the thread.
To say nothing of her physical balance.
Holy flipping wow. They said he was turning thirty-two today, but he seemed older, or maybe it was just his expression. Each time she twirled, she snagged a new yummy detail. The shape of his ears. Thick, straight dark brows. Sexy grooves framing a stern, sensual mouth. Sharp cheekbones. His face was a taut mask of tension. But it was his eyes that really got to her.
His scorching laser focus made her temperature rise. He looked like he’d tear you to pieces if you gave him any trouble, despite the elegant suit that sat just right on his huge shoulders. He didn’t laugh or look embarrassed like most men did when surprised by a bellydancer. He just sat there, with the charged stillness of a predator poised to spring. Radiating a subtle sense of danger.
Her smile faltered as she shimmied and spun. Suddenly, she was hyper-conscious of the erotic allure of the dance. She always tried to keep things as light hearted and playful as possible, but his silent, very male sexual energy made it feel deadly serious. As if they were alone, and she’d been summoned for a private, uninhibited performance designed to drive him crazy.
Oh my. What a stimulating scenario that would be.
She was actually getting aroused. For the love of God. Rising panic began to shred the sensation. Enough of this ridiculous crap. She had to get out of here, and fast.
Finish the dance. You need the cash. He’s only a hot guy, not a celestial being. You’re freaking yourself out. Chill. Usually she spread the wealth, bestowing flirtatious smiles on everyone, but no one made a sound. Tension was thick in the air. No laughter, no snickering, no whistles.
Who cared. Her mind was fully occupied with the task of not gaping at Noah Gallagher’s godlike hotness.
This is Caro’s first inkling that all is not exactly what it seems at Angel Enterprises. She has no idea that they know who she is, and still less that they are wondering if she is Mark Olund’s spy. But really, all she can think about is Noah.
Toughen up, cupcake. Take back the power. This was a tough crowd, maybe, but everything was relative. The people in this room weren’t trying to frame her for murder, kidnap her or kill her. And she certainly had the birthday boy’s full attention.
So she’d play with it. That man needed to be humbled. To worship at the feet of her divine awesomeness. She’d dance like she’d never danced before, blow his mind, and melt away, forever nameless. Leaving him to ache and writhe.
That’s right, big boy. Prepare to suffer.
The dance was ending. Caro sank to her knees, arching back in a pose of abandoned sensual ecstasy as the music reached its climax. Stretched before him like a sacrificial virgin on an altar.
Take me, I’m yours.
The pose felt obscene, but only because there were other people in the room. If there hadn’t been, it would have felt right. It would have felt . . . hot.
Caro rose slowly to her feet. Noah Gallagher didn’t applaud.
He just stared as if he wanted to leap over that table and pin her to the ground.
Tension built. The othe people in the room looked up, down, anywhere but at her. Caro smiled brightly. Not fair, to throw an innocent performer into the middle of someone else’s big fat faux pas and make her swim in it. Bastards.
So what. She’d stay dignified. While running for her life, fighting the powers of darkness, scrambling for money. Even if it involved putting on a scanty costume and shaking her booty for rude or indifferent strangers.
Or else one single intense, lustful, smoldering stranger.
Caro has been alone with her problems for so long. She’ll scramble to keep anyone else from getting punished by the toxic mess that is her current life, but she can’t resist Noah’s smoldering, magnetic gaze. Aside from how drop-dead hot Noah Gallagher is, she’s intensely drawn to the strength she senses in him. A strength that could withstand even problems as big as her own.
Still, all Caro dares to hope for is one secret night. That’s the extent of her self-indulgence—but Noah has other ideas . . . and he’s willing to protect what he loves . . .
I hope you enjoy the mysterious and exciting new world of the Obsidian Files as much as I loved creating it! There is still so much yet to discover, so happy reading!  

About Shannon McKenna:
Shannon McKenna is the NYT and USA Today bestselling author of fifteen action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series. She’s also the author of the upcoming OBSIDIAN series, the first of which, RIGHT THROUGH ME, comes out in July of 2016. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love.
Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. The alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she'd ever dreamed, but what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments. She loves to hear from her readers.

Connect with Shannon: Website | Facebook | Twitter

{ promo } release blitz || CLEAT CHASER by Celia Aaron and Sloane Howell

Cleat Catcher Release Day.jpg   

AP new - buy the book.jpg



AP new - synopsis.jpg

What happens when an unrepentant Cleat Chaser meets the player of her dreams?

Nikki Graves has a history of going through the baseball roster with an eye for talent--the kind of talent that keeps things spicy between the sheets. But, once she meets Braden Bradford, catcher for the Ravens, her talent scout days are done. He's the one.

Braden has never met a woman like Nikki, and he can't get enough of her smart mouth and big heart. But life isn't always as direct and certain as the connection between Braden and Nikki. When family objections and career trajectories begin to crowd the plate, will Braden be able to keep his catch of a lifetime?

AP new - excerpt.jpg

I shot back against the cushion, doing my best to act normal. Nik pushed the door open. “Hey, babe. I was waiting for my dessert course.” I made a show of scrubbing my hand across my mouth and face like I was clearing her a space.
“I’m good.” Her tone was flat, and she didn’t even look at me.
What the hell?
Her usual spark was gone. She sauntered over to the side table, and dropped her keys and bag on it.
I glanced down at the laptop screen full of porn. Fuck! I’d been researching some new shit to try out with her, but there was no way she’d believe me. My gaze drifted to the mouse way up under the table. There was no chance I could get to it without giving away my knee situation.
Using my good leg, I tried to gently kick the computer screen closed, and, of course, it only opened wider.
“Have you moved from the couch all night? Did you even shower?” She sighed, still facing the wall like she had no interest in looking at me.
“What’s wrong, babe? What happened?” My mind raced. A lot could have occurred at Estate de CuntMuffin that would set her off. I’d been worried the whole time she was gone.
“I’m fine.” She turned around, and I watched her eyes dart straight to the computer screen. Her brows pinched together and her hands went to her hips.
Fuck me. This won’t be good.
“Nice, Braden. Real fucking nice.”
“It’s not what you think. I don’t look at porn.” I stared in the other direction and mumbled. “Often.”
“Your fingers slip and accidentally type in ‘’” She scowled and began to pace back and forth.
I’d expected her to be upset about the porn, but not this much. I was halfway hoping she’d want to look at it with me. “No. I was trying to find new stuff to try out on you. If you must know.”
Her lips curled like she might smile, and then they mashed back into a thin line.
So close.
“Have they said if you’re going to be traded or not?” She took another step toward me, ignoring all of the pussy acrobatics flashing on the laptop.
“No.” I tilted my head to my lap and ground my teeth while I tried to compose myself. I’d been trying to forget about that shit all day, but the pain in my knee kept it front and center in my mind.
She made a pfft sound and threw her arms in the air.
“Babe, I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to have a clue what you’re upset about. I just don’t.”
A million things rocketed through my mind at once and brought my entire thought process to a crashing halt. My brain buffered slower than the inverted cowgirl pussy nomming scene I’d attempted to watch earlier.
Nik scowled, and then folded her arms across her chest. She stared me down like a closer in the ninth inning. “Think really really hard about the problem we have.”
My eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. “Uhh, your parents?” I glanced back and tried to judge her reaction.
She made a loud sound like a buzzer that startled me.
“Fucking hell. I mean, umm, me being traded?” I held my hands up and shrugged.
“Warmer.” She took another step toward me.
I hated this fucking guessing game. Why couldn’t she just say it? Heat rushed into my face, and my body tensed.
“Can you just tell me? Please. Stop fucking around with me.” I smacked my hand against the back of the sofa, and Nik jumped.
“Maybe my parents were right. Maybe you do have anger issues.” She stomped off a few steps and whipped back around. “Easton!
“Take that shit back. You know I don’t. Maybe your goddamn family just brings it out of everyone. Maybe you’re more like your mo—” I froze stiff on the couch, and my eyes bugged out. I held up my hands. “I stopped myself. You heard me. I did not say it.”
It was too late. I thought my head was going to explode the way Nik glowered in my direction. Her hands were squeezed into fists at her sides, and I could see all the whites of her knuckles. She started toward me like a possessed demon. “Did you say what I think you said?”
Do not answer, Braden. That shit is rhetorical. Adapt and survive.
I shook my head quickly and braced myself in case she resorted to physical violence.

AP new -about the author.jpg

Celia Aaron

Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

Author Links

Sloane Howell

Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

Visit his web page to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.

Author Links


Wednesday, June 29, 2016


St. Martin's Paperbacks | June 28, 2016 | MC Romance
Sinner Tribe, book 4

Love is a wild ride.

After enduring months of torture at the hands of the Black Jacks MC, and betrayed by his own club, Holt “T-Rex” Savage, a junior member of the Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, will stop at nothing to get revenge. But falling for a beautiful woman with dangerous ties to his sworn enemy was never part of the plan…

Raised by the Black Jacks, Naiya Kelly grew up fast, furiously, and with little to lose. But now that she’s put her MC days behind her, she is free to do what she wants—until she meets a man who imprisons her, body and soul. She swore she’d never give her heart to a biker, but Holt is the most passionate, protective man she’s ever known. But will Holt be forced to betray his one true love to exact his revenge?

See where it all began with book 1 of the Sinner’s Tribe series, Rough Justice.

{ promo } THE MATCHMAKERS REPLACEMENT { excerpt reveal } by Rachel Van Dyken

The Matchmaker's Replacement Banner


Wingman rule number two: never reveal how much you want them.

Lex hates Gabi. Gabi hates Lex. But, hey, at least the hate is mutual, right? All Lex has to do is survive the next few weeks training Gabi in all the ways of Wingmen Inc. and then he can be done with her. But now that they have to work together, the sexual tension and fighting is off the charts. He isn’t sure if he wants to strangle her or throw her against the nearest sturdy table and have his way with her.

But Gabi has a secret, something she’s keeping from not just her best friend but her nemesis too. Lines are blurred as Lex becomes less the villain she’s always painted him to be…and starts turning into something more. Gabi has always hated the way she’s been just a little bit attracted to him—no computer-science major should have that nice of a body or look that good in glasses—but “Lex Luthor” is an evil womanizer. He’s dangerous. Gabi should stay far, far away.

Then again, she’s always wanted a little danger.

Amazon US / Amazon UK / Amazon CA / Amazon AU


I hated him.

HATED him.

Hate, hate, hate. I chanted the words to myself that very next morning as I stomped toward his ridiculously expensive house, next to the ridiculously nice lake, with his ridiculously loud red Mercedes parked out front. Jackass.

I’d be doing society a favor if I set it on fire.


The thing was probably filled with so much bodily fluid and disease that if he got in a car accident he’d infect the entire freeway and start a citywide epidemic.

I shuddered.

I compartmentalized Lex into two boxes.

The first box was Childhood Lex, the friend who used to hang out with Ian and me before he moved across town, never to be seen again. He used to ride with me to school, and when I was sick he gave me my own box of Kleenex—never mind that he stole it from his teacher’s desk. The point is, Childhood Lex was a keeper.

Box number two?

Asshole Lex, also known as the version I was walking toward. The Lex I met when I was eighteen, who momentarily stunned me speechless with his godlike beauty, had been a figment of my overactive, sad, hormone-riddled imagination.

On the outside? The perfect man.

With a brooding and sultry smile.

Biceps the size of my head.

Who gave me the distinct feeling that if I ran my hands over his buzzed hair I’d orgasm before he even touched me.

Whatever. I was over it. So over it.

A lot of people had stupid crushes when they were eighteen, right?

Now all I saw when I looked into his stormy blue eyes was syph or the clap, and that was being generous. The dude was a walking STD and seriously tried every nerve I had. He was an ass. Plain and simple, no sugar coating. He was the type of guy who’d tell a chick that she looked fat in a dress or who refused to share the communal breadbasket. See! He couldn’t even adhere to typical manners during mealtime! Just thinking about him had me tied up in knots.

Last year, when I went shopping and stupidly invited Ian along—which of course meant Lex had to come—I was told in no uncertain terms that if I would just stop drinking chocolate milk in the morning I’d be able to fit into a smaller size.

He’d smiled.

His dimples had deepened.

He’d even crossed his arms as if to say, Look, I did you a favor, pat me on the back.

Instead I had kicked him in the balls and tried to give him a black eye, clocking Ian in the face.

My point? Lex. Was. The. Devil.

I made a point of only hanging out with Lex when absolutely necessary, and even then I almost always had Ian as a buffer. But now that he was playing love nest with my ex-roomie, Blake? Well, I was on my own.

Lex opened the door after my third aggressive knock. Black sweatpants hung low on his hips, a vintage Mariners shirt fell open around his neck, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that made his eyes more appealing than should be legal.

“Sunshine,” he said, his smirk deepening as he crossed his burly arms over his chest.

“Dickhead.” I smiled sweetly. “New glasses? They look thicker than last time.”

“Better to see you with.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “There they are.” He reached for one of my boobs.

I slapped his hand away so hard my palm stung.

“Probably not the best way to treat your new male clients.” He shook his hand and turned towards the living room leaving the door wide open. Manners were completely lost on him.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed the door behind me and took off my shoes because I knew if I didn’t he’d give me hell.

He was a freak like that.

For as much ass as he got, it was shocking how much Lysol he used around the house. His clothes were never wrinkled; everything was pristine.

Even his breath.

Damn him.

He drank coffee like a Starbucks employee but never had coffee breath.

It was almost painful, staring him in the face, knowing that everything on the outside appeared perfect—but didn’t match the inside at all, not even close!

Beauty like Lex’s was dangerous and wickedly tempting, like something out of a paranormal romance novel. Sometimes, at night, when I dreamed of Lex getting hit by a car, I imagined him as a vampire roaming the streets in his favorite black sweats, shirtless, shimmering under the streetlights, just waiting for whores to line up so he could take a few bites.

A pencil flew by my head.

“Yo.” Lex’s eyebrows shot up. “We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to get you ready for the next two clients. Daydream about chicks on your own time.”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

He bit on his bottom lip, sinking back in his chair as his eyes slowly roamed from my mismatched socks all the way up to my head. “Okay, whatever you say, Gabs.”

I will not commit homicide. I will not commit homicide. “You know,” I said as I tossed my purse onto the table, “it’s offensive that you assume all lesbians dress like crap.” So what? I was wearing a ratty white T-shirt and ripped jeans, and I was pretty sure I still had mascara on from the night before. It was my Lex repellant. He hated sloppiness.

“Offensive.” He nodded. “Also true . . .” He used the spare pencil from behind his ear to slide my purse over to the farthest side of the table. “It wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than jeans and T-shirts, Gabs.” He sighed. “Say it with me: dresssss—”

I grabbed the pencil from his hand, broke it into two pieces, and handed them back to him. “I wear dresses, just not for you. Dresses are your kryptonite, especially short black ones. I refuse to be a part of your ‘shower time.’”

He snorted. “You wish.”

“Yes. Every night when I go to sleep I pray for Lex to dream of me while he jerks off because yet another girl refused to follow his instructions in bed : ‘Damn it, use the manual!’” I said, using my best imitation of Lex’s voice. I’d only heard him shout instructions to a girl once, and it had scarred me for life. What the hell are you doing? Do I look like I’m satisfied? There’s a diagram! Ugh.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Very funny, and the manual is there for a reason. Do you even know how many chicks get confused when I call out sexual positions? It’s like, get there faster, you know?”

My feelings were torn between fascination and disgust. “So,” I changed the subject. “Let’s train, because I have about ten years worth of Organic Chem homework.”

Lex sighed and held out his hand.

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t need help.”

Okay, I needed help, desperately needed help, and Lex wasn’t just passably smart but a certified genius, at least when he applied himself. I refused to ask him to go over my homework just because Organic Chem was, to me, like reading a foreign language.

He cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Finally, he stood, slowly walked over to the end of the table, and fished the chem book from my oversized purse. “What chapter?”


“If I’m teaching you Organic Chem, at least say Professor Lex.”

“Listen very closely, Lex.” I went over and jerked my book out of his hands. “I didn’t need your help last year when I almost failed biology, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now. Let’s just get this training done so I can go home and suffer in silence, alright?”

“Fine.” He dropped my book against the table and then, without warning, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me against the counter that bordered the kitchen. My butt hit the cupboard . “Up until now we’ve been helping people find their perfect match. Basically acting like a wingman so that the idiots of this world see the girl who’s been standing in front of them all along .”

Why was he standing so close? Did we have to be touching? I told my body not to respond to his proximity, but Lex was magnetic, even if every part of him was evil. My brain was having trouble functioning while his large palms were pressed into the tops of my shoulders.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “And now that you’re allowing guys to become clients of Wingmen Inc., I basically do the same thing. Give them confidence, help them capture the one girl who’s always seen them as the friend—or worse, who they’ve been invisible to.”

“What’s that like, I wonder?” Lex still didn’t release me. “Being invisible . . . Maybe next time a dude ignores you, take notes.”

And another insult.

“Lex.” I huffed out a breath. “Just get on with it.”

“Right.” His eyes momentarily locked on mine before he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses were perched. It was not sexy. It wasn’t. Really. That. Sexy. “So whenever we take on a new client, we give them a list of questions, meet them in a public place, and then use the power of human emotions like jealousy and curiosity to get the other person interested. That’s where you come in. If another girl sees our client as desirable, he becomes desirable.”

“That easy?”

“Sort of.” Lex leaned forward. “But you can’t suck.”


“At anything.” His lips hovered near my mouth. He was starting to freak me out. I wanted to run away, but I was pinned.

“Lex, if you kiss me I will bite your tongue off. I swear.”

“If I was actually kissing you”—Lex released one of my shoulders and placed a finger against my mouth—“you’d know it. This, my frumpy friend, is training.”

His lips descended.

They pressed against mine, then pulled back. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Gabs, you’re going to need to open your mouth a bit more. Guys are stupid. They always assume that more tongue means better kissing, when the opposite is true, but you still need to have your lips parted, not locked down like Fort Knox.”

“What’s happening?” I tried to push away from him.

Lex rolled his eyes. “Gabs, believe me, this is all business. You can even keep your hand on my junk the whole time.”

“What!” I roared.

“So you know without a doubt that nothing about you turns me on.” He grinned menacingly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I do!”

“Hey!” He chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”

“Grabbing your penis is not the answer, Lex!”

“Weird, because it so often is.”

“I hate today.”

“Is it the rain?” He frowned.

“It’s not—”

“It is.”

“Stop that!” I shoved him. “Hurry up and grade my kissing skills so I can go home and study.”

“Kissing, hand holding, hugging, cuddling, laughing, winking—just a few things you need to master.” He was firing off so many horrible, body-numbing words.

“Just hurry up,” I grumbled in a defeated voice as I tried to block out the fact that he was a good-looking ass who offended me with every single breath he took.

“Ah . . .” Lex held up his hand. “One never hurries a kiss.”

“What about a passionate kiss?”

“A passionate kiss isn’t hurried, it’s frenzied. Damn, don’t you know anything?”

Heat swamped my cheeks.

“How many guys have you kissed, Gabs?”

“Plenty!” Five. I’d kissed five.

“You blush down your neck when you lie.” Lex cupped my chin and then brought his lips down against mine again. “Part.”

Sighing against his mouth, I relaxed my lips while his slid across.

He pulled back, wearing a frown of irritation. “A bit more, Gabs. Guys want access.”

I kept my eyes open.

So did he.

I didn’t want him assuming I was into it, which was probably his exact line of thinking. Only keeping my eyes open was an entirely raw experience, watching him watch me while I felt him.

I shivered.

“Cold?” That stupid smirk was back.

“Frigid.” I glared, putting myself down before he had a chance to.

“You read my mind.” He nodded seriously. “Now stop being a bitch, and let me teach you how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss!” I don’t know what came over me—maybe it was the need to prove myself, or possibly it was just stress over the entire situation. Needing to stay in school and hating that he was the answer, I wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped, my hips colliding with his as I mauled his mouth with as much passion as I could conjure up, this time closing my eyes and putting everything I had into it.

With a growl, Lex pushed me back against the countertop. As my butt collided with the edge, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hands dug into my hair, pulling it free from its ponytail while he changed positions his lips demanding a punishing kiss from a different angle as his he gave my hair a harder tug back.

I grasped at his T-shirt, pulling him closer and nearly falling backward into the sink.

And then, just when I was in danger of losing myself to the kiss that would probably be the best kiss of my life, I bit down on his bottom lip.

That move didn’t work out the way I’d planned, not at all. In my head it was smart. I’d piss him off, get him to pull back and leave me alone.

It did nothing of the sort.

Nothing of the sort at] all.

With a hiss he pulled back, fire blazing in his eyes. For a split second that seemed to go on for an eternity, he hovered and I waited, both of us on the edge of something. He wet his lips, I mimicked the movement, and then, like a snake, he struck. His mouth fused to mine in a punishing kiss, one that bruised my mouth while imprinting its essence on my soul.        

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!

You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is .