This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $50 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A Lord for Christmas: Heart-warming Regency Yuletide Tales is a collection of novellas with both holiday themes as well as those of love, passion, intrigue, and romance running throughout. With each story, you’ll long for your own Lord for Christmas.

Marriage by Twelfth Night by Ella Quinn – Lady Euphrosyne Trevor knows exactly what she wants in a marriage when she meets the Marquis of Markville. But when her father, the Duke of Somerset, refuses the suit out of hand and betroths Euphrosyne to another man, they must find a way to defy the duke and save the only chance they have for love.

The Rogue's Seduction by Lauren Smith - Perdita, London's favorite lady is desperate to avoid a fortune hunter and enlists the help of London's most wicked Rogue to fake an engagement, but her rogue has every intention of claiming Perdita as his wife.

A December with a Duke by Collette Cameron – After a horrific marriage, Everleigh vows to never marry again, but the enigmatic Duke of Sheffield is determined to woo the beautiful widow and make her his own.

A Match Made at Christmas by Jenna Jaxon — Sophia must allow her grandmother to arrange a match for her, the name of the groom to be announced at a Christmas house party. So when Sophia finds the true love of her life, she has no idea if he is her grandmother’s choice or not.

Read an Excerpt from Married by Twelfth Night by Ella Quinn

“Good morning, Markville.” Lady Hawksworth smiled at him. “Euphrosyne, allow me to make you known to the Marquis of Markville. Markville, my sister-in-law, Lady Euphrosyne Trevor.”

As he bowed, he admired her graceful curtsey. “My pleasure.” How old was she? Surely she was out. “Were you not in Town last Season? I am sure we would have met.”

“No.”

Her cheeks colored slightly, not with shyness, but with barely subdued anger, Markville suspected.

“I should have been out last year, but our father decided none of us needed a Season.”

Well, that was plain speaking. He liked her better for it. “What a pity.” Her eyes flashed for a moment. When she turned toward a white horse, he approached her. “Allow me.”

“Thank you.” Lady Euphrosyne reached up for the saddle, clearly expecting him to cup his hands for her foot. Instead, he clasped her waist and lifted her onto the horse. Eyes wide, she stared at him. Now he had her attention. “That was”—she cleared her throat—“unexpected.”

For reasons he could not understand, Markville wanted more.

He didn’t know how strong her reaction was. Her breathing was steady, and the lace ruff hid any sign of her pulse. Only her eyes and words showed her surprise. Did she have a great deal of countenance, or was she cold? With a father like Somerset, Markville wouldn’t have been surprised at the latter, but there was something in the spark of her eyes that made him think she was anything but made of ice. Not to mention the energy he’d observed earlier.

About the Authors:

USA Today bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat. After cruising the Caribbean and North America, she completed a transatlantic crossing from St. Martin to Southern Europe. She's currently living in Germany, happily writing while her husband is back at work, recovering from retirement.

Website: http://www.ellaquinnauthor.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ellaquinnauthor
Blog: http://ellaquinnauthor.wordpresscom/

USA Today Bestselling Author Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She knew she was destined to be a romance writer when she attempted to re-write the entire Titanic movie just to save Jack from drowning. Connecting with readers by writing emotionally moving, realistic and sexy romances no matter what time period is her passion. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award. She is a 2018 RITA ® Finalist in the Romance Writers of America Contest. To connect with Lauren, visit her at www.laurensmithbooks.com

Website: http://www.laurensmithbooks.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurenDianaSmith
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSmithAuthor
Blog: http://theleagueofrogues.blogspot.com/

USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author, Collette Cameron pens Scottish and Regency historicals, featuring rogues, rapscallions, rakes, and the intelligent, intrepid damsels who reform them.

Blessed with fantastic fans as well as a compulsive, over-active, and witty Muse who won’t stop whispering new romantic romps in her ear, she lives in Oregon with her mini-dachshunds, though she dreams of living in Scotland part-time.

You’ll always find dogs, birds, occasionally naughty humor, and a dash of inspiration in her sweet-to-spicy timeless romances®.

Website: https://collettecameron.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/collette.cameron.5
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Collette_Author

Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical romance in all time periods because, she says, “passion is timeless.” She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, Jenna has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise. She tries to incorporate all of these elements into her own stories. She’s a theatre director when she’s not writing and lives in Gloucester, Virginia with her family, including two very vocal cats and one silent one.

Jenna is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America as well as an active member of Chesapeake Romance Writers, her local chapter of RWA. She has four series currently available: The House of Pleasure, set in Georgian England, Handful of Hearts, set in Regency England, and Time Enough to Love, set in medieval England and France, and The Widows’ Club series, also set in Regency England and available from Kensington Publishing in both print and digital.

She currently writes to support her chocolate habit.

Website: https://jennajaxon.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenna-Jaxon/146857578723570
Twitter:: https://twitter.com/Jenna_Jaxon

BUY LINKS: - on sale for only $0.99

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JK77K9V/ref=x_gr_w_bb
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-lord-for-christmas-lauren-smith/1129769409

a Rafflecopter giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Laura A. Barnes will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Rescued for vengeance

Set out to finalize a deal for her brother’s return, Skye MacKinnon instead captures the double agent working alongside her enemy. When she holds her prisoner hostage at her castle, he draws her into an attraction that spirals out of control. After she fights off his spell, she deceives him for her own agenda. As she betrays his trust, she is caught in the web of the evil villain who is terrorizing England. When her prisoner rescues her from the torture, she becomes afraid of her own shadow. As Skye recognizes her love for him, can she overcome her fears, or will she be forever destroyed by the violence of her mission?

Rescued for desire

Chained and left waiting for his own demise, Zane Maxwell is soon rescued by a Scottish goddess. He is enraptured by her charms and drawn under her spell. Her touch and look sink into his soul a connection he cannot resist. While he lures her into his confidence and seduces her into his bed, her only plans are betrayal. When she is captured, he realizes she was only protecting his life. Now he must rescue her and destroy the man who hurt her. Can Zane convince her of his love, or did he miss his chance of a life filled with the woman of his dreams?

Read an Excerpt:

Maxwell walked into the cabin. He pulled a chair next to the bed and settled to watch Skye sleep. Dark bruises covered her face. Her lips were split open and a small crust of blood coated them. Maxwell tightened his hold on the armchair. He remained furious and wanted to kill Shears all over again. He was angry he couldn’t hold her in his arms and soothe away her aches and pains.

Her hair swam around her face framing her in the shadows. He saw in her sleep her fingers held on tightly to the quilt. He raised his hand, wanting to unwrap them from the blanket and hold them, but knew it could frighten her awake. So, his hand hovered above hers, feeling the heat of her body wrap around his fingers. Feeling Skye.

He pulled the chair closer and lowered his head to lay next to her hands. He watched her as she slept. Secure in the knowledge that she was safe. The tears streamed down his face unnoticed as her pain seeped into his soul. Soaking deep inside, drowning him in fear and heartache. His tears soaked the quilt, but he didn’t notice. All he took notice of was her. Skye, he whispered over and over in his head. Maxwell only hoped she could hear what his heart was shouting silently to her.

About the Author:

I have always dreamed of being an aspiring author. I am making my dreams come true, one word at a time. When I am not writing, I am spending time with my family. I love reading books on lazy afternoons, and late into the night. Anytime really. Married 28 years to the love of my life and we have three wonderful children and two sweet grandbabies. Besides writing, I have always wanted to travel. In the last few years we have gotten our passport stamped in England and Scotland. We are hoping to add Italy to the list soon. My debut novel is Rescue By the Captain.

Website: http://www.lauraabarnes.com
Amazon: https://amazon.com/author/lauraabarnes
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16332844.Laura_A_Barnes
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLauraA.Barnes
Lulu: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lauraabarnes
Twitter: https://twitter.com/labarnesauthor
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/laura-a-barnes

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GSGMGDZ/
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rescued-by-the-scot-laura-a-barnes/1129317186
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/rescued-by-the-scot/id1425286514
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rescued-by-the-scot
Lulu: ttp://www.lulu.com/shop/laura-a-barnes/rescued-by-the-scot/ebook/product-23755738.html

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Amazon

Dear Ms. Keane,

Before this ridiculous little arrangement commences, I’d like to make myself indubitably clear: I know who you are, I know that my father hired you, I know why my father hired you, and lastly, your services aren’t needed.

In fact, I want no part of my father’s billion-dollar empire, and him “gifting” me with one of the “best concierges in the county” won’t change that. He’s wasting his money. You’re wasting your time.

However, seeing as how you foolishly signed an ironclad contract with an Act of God clause and my father has strong-armed me into taking this position, it appears as though we’re stuck together—at least until your contract is up next month.

That said, our time together at WellesTech should be relatively painless but please don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t notice when that pretty little stare lingers a little too long or the way your breath catches when our hands graze. You’re fascinated by me and it kills you because you can hardly stand to be in the same room as me.

Think I’m a problem worth solving? An impossible riddle worth figuring out? By all means, go ahead and try. Solve for X. Crack the code. It might even be fun (but only for me, not you).

V/r,

Calder Welles, II

P.S. I dare you.

That was … interesting.
I have to admit, I expected her to throw herself at me today. I expected tension so ripe, we’d have no choice but to act on it—especially since we went all of Friday without so much as exchanging a single word thanks to my father hijacking my schedule. But what I got was a girl who showed up, did exactly what I told her to do, and kept her hands to herself.
I’m not used to this—girls with self-restraint.
But it’s for the best.
Over the course of the past week, my life has become unrecognizable. Throwing a few more complications into the mix won’t help anything. And besides, if I fuck my assistant, that makes me no better than the man whose shoes I’m being forced to fill.
I’m better than that.
She’s better than that.
And I meant what I said—I don’t fuck girls I have to see every day.
“Closing up?” the security guard asks, looking up from his Spiderman comic.
I nod, heading back to my father’s office to grab summaries and lock the door. Five minutes later, I hit the pavement, opting to take the long way home. I haven’t been able to run all week and my muscles are screaming from too much sitting. My body wasn’t designed to be this sedentary.
Popping into a little Eastern medicine shop off Houston, I grab this miracle balm one of my Olympic skier friends told me about. I don’t know what the hell is in it, I just know it smells like nothing and works like magic the instant I rub it into my skin.
I leave the shop and hook a left, passing a trendy Japanese eatery across the street called Kaio, where their waitlist spans months because apparently pancakes shaped like sushi is the next hot thing. A small outdoor dining area is filled with patrons, and the benches outside hold even more, all of them patiently waiting, noses buried in their phones.
Crossing the street, I glance back at the restaurant once more when something catches my eye. Seated at a table for two on the patio is Aerin Keane and an exceptionally handsome gentleman in green scrubs.
I watch them long enough to see him smile, her laugh.
She reaches across the table and bats at his hand.
He rolls his eyes.
They look like they’ve known each other forever, completely comfortable in each other’s presence. Her shoulders are relaxed, his legs crossed.
So that’s why she was so adamant about us not sleeping together again—she has a boyfriend.
I smirk, rounding the corner and getting the hell away before I start to care again, only ten steps later, I’m in the presence of an overly excitable blonde with flailing arms running in my direction.
“Oh my God! Calder? Calder Welles, is that you?” Thessaly Thomas, a socialite-turned-reality-TV-star I foolishly stuck my dick into in my early twenties, practically wraps her entire body around me, nearly letting her mint green Birkin fall to the ground in the process. “I can’t believe it’s you! How are you? Ugh. You look so good. It isn’t fair. I swear you look even better than when we were dating and that’s saying a lot because …”
Dating?
We went on five dates.
I’d hardly call that dating.
And the only reason I knew it was five was because she went all out for our “one-month anniversary,” hiring some C-list band to give us a private concert on the rooftop of her father’s pool club in the Meatpacking District.
“What are you up to these days?” she asks, hand on her hip and smile on her face. Her forehead is smooth, glass-like. And her lips are much larger than I remember. “What’s new?”
She asks like it’s any of her business, like she cares. But I see that thirsty look in her eyes. Rejection does something to you. It makes you want the things you shouldn’t have, the things you can’t have.
“You’re looking good. CrossFit?” She smooths a palm down my arm.
Thessaly knows she can’t have me, and God, does she still want me even after all these years.
“I was just telling Raya—you remember Raya, right? About how you took me skiing in Vermont for our third date. Do you still have your plane?” she asks. “A Cessna, was it?”
Her phone chimes twice, and she lifts a finger before reading a quick text and typing back an even quicker response.
“Sorry about that.” She peers up at me through fake lashes the color of midnight, and she’s still wearing that same dopey grin. “I can’t believe I ran into you on Houston of all places. Do you live around here now? I’m still on Lexington.”
She rolls her eyes, like she’s ashamed to live in a two-thousand-square foot classic six bought and paid for by her parents the day she graduated from NYU.
Thessaly is still talking, though I’ve tuned her out. Something about a mutual friend who thought they saw me in Paris over the summer. It’s kind of crazy, but all my mind can think about in this moment is Aerin smiling with that fucking Dr. McDreamy-looking tool. Her hand on his. Her eyes lit. Her body at ease.
God, she’s so easy to be around—even if she hates me with every fiber of her classy little being.
She isn’t like Thessaly or the other women that tend to hurl themselves at me. Those women have desperation in their eyes, insecurity in their smiles, and diffidence in their demeanors.
They just want me to like them.
Aerin doesn’t.
And I’d be lying to myself if I said that didn’t make me feel some kind of way.
“We should do coffee or something sometime,” Thessaly says, her hand swatting at my arm. It’s like she needs every excuse she can get to touch me. “What are you doing right now? You have plans?”
“Yeah, today’s not good for me.”
She pouts her Kylie Jenner lips. “Your number still the same?”
Indeed. “Yeah.”
Her pout transforms and she rises on her toes. “Great. I’ll text you and we can figure something out. It was great running into you, Calder. Glad you’re doing well.”
How would she know? I couldn’t get a word in.
Thessaly runs her hand along my arm one more time before readjusting her Birkin over her left forearm and giving me one of those cutesy girl waves complete with a shoulder shrug.
I wave back before continuing on my way.
Good lord, that was painful.
Almost as painful as seeing Aerin on a date.

Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.




And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j

Author Links

Goodreads Facebook  Amazon

Baby Daddies

A Me, Myself & I Collection

Fiona Davenport · Rochelle Paige · Elle Christensen

                                                                   Goodreads

 

 

 

BLURB:

This collection is jam packed with baby making goodness. It features three, all-new stories from the duo behind Fiona Davenport.

Her Doctor's Baby by Fiona Davenport: She was hoping he could help her get pregnant, but she never expected it to be the old-fashioned way.

Her Neightbor's Baby by Rochelle Paige: She didn’t expect to join her friend's baby craze...until one wild night with her sexy neighbor.

Her Boss's Baby by Elle Christensen: It was hard to keep things professional when her boss offered perks like seeing him naked.

  

 

 

EXCERPT

I opened my office door with my head down, still reading through my next patient’s chart.

“Ethan?”

My head flew up at the sound of the familiar voice and my eyes locked with gorgeous brown ones that I’d seen filled with hunger and fire the night before. Madison stared at me, open-mouthed, and her cheeks flushed.  

My first reaction was pleasure at seeing her again, but then I remembered why I’d been acting like an asshole all day. Irritation quickly spread through my body. Then…I remembered what I do for a living and why Madison would be waiting for me in my office.

Oh, fuck no.

Over my dead fucking body.

My hands clenched, crumpling the sides of the folder I was holding. The sound broke through Madison’s frozen shock and drew her attention. When she raised her head to look at my face again, I narrowed my eyes and her blush deepened.

I knew the situation needed to be handled carefully, so I swallowed my rage at the thought of Madison carrying another man’s baby and strolled around my desk. I took a seat and placed her file open in front of me.

Raising a single brow, I trained my penetrating gaze on her face and calmly asked, “How can I help you, Ms. Carlyle?”

Confusion floated across her face and she fiddled with a lock of her midnight hair as her head canted to the side, making the tiny stud in her nose twinkle. “Um…I want to get pregnant,” she mumbled quietly.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “You want me to get you pregnant,” I deadpanned.

Madison looked momentarily stunned and stared at me with her mouth slightly open. Then she shook her head and annoyance flickered in her expression before she cleared it. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

I grinned and shuffled through the papers in front of me until I found the one I wanted. “Let’s see. Gynecological history.” I glanced up at Madison who was shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

I read on. “No history of STD. Well, that’s a relief.” I looked up and winked. “I’ve got a clean bill of health too, in case you were wondering.” Her cheeks pinkened but she didn’t say anything. I scanned down until I found the section I was looking for. “Ah, sexual history. Hmmm, this section is mostly blank.” I gave her an admonishing shake of my head. “Why don’t we go over that part now?”

Madison’s face was now beet red and she was twisting her hands nervously in her lap. I wasn’t in the least bit repentant that I was making her squirm. We both knew what was coming.

“Use of lubricants”—I smirked at her and winked again. Then bent over the form and scribbled as I spoke—“I’ll just put ‘unnecessary’.”

Madison rolled her eyes.

“Is your sex drive normal or depressed?” I tapped my chin with my index finger as I pretended to ponder the question. “The answer can change depending on the partner,” I explained. “So, I’ll just write down, extremely eager, according to her most recent lover.”

Madison scoffed, and I pinned her with a hard look, daring her to disagree. We both knew she’d wanted it as much as I had. After a moment, she sighed and gave me a tiny nod.

 

 

 

                                                                      Review

 

 

 

 This is a great collection of stories. In this collection you will read about three different couples who happen to be entwined into each others lives. Three woman wanting love and babies, Three over-bearing over the top alpha males who fall head over heels on love at first sight when they see their woman, and the need for them to impregnate them is so strong. This author duo's writing is also so sexy, fun and enjoyable with these cave-men and their woman. I adore their work. Another must read!

 

 

 

 

 

OTHER BOOKS BY FIONA DAVENPORT

**Almost all books available on Kindle Unlimited**

https://www.amazon.com/Fiona-Davenport/e/B01AOR4P86

Most recent releases:

 

It’s Vegas, Baby

Amazon US → https://amzn.to/2BaC8Wg

Amazon UK → https://amzn.to/2w5WMRC

BOUGHT BY THE BILLIONAIRE SERIES

*Available on kindle Unlimited

 

Bought For Marriage

Amazon US → https://amzn.to/2CD5DAU

Amazon UK → https://amzn.to/2O3LzbW

 

 

 

ABOUT FIONA DAVENPORT

    

Hello! My name is Fiona Davenport and I'm a smutoholic. I've been reading raunchy romance novels since... well, forever and a day ago it seems. And now I get to write sexy stories and share them with others who are like me and enjoy their books on the steamier side. Fiona Davenport is my super-secret alias, which is kind of awesome since I've always wanted one.

AUTHOR LINKS:

Facebook │ Twitter │ Pinterest │ Instagram │ Goodreads

    

THANK YOU!

 

 

 

 

Full links if needed:

Amazon US → https://amzn.to/2yDy7WO
Amazon UK → https://amzn.to/2CLAGbZ Amazon CA → https://amzn.to/2JkKYRK

Amazon AU → https://amzn.to/2Rqiglt

Author Links:

Facebook: http://on.fb.me/1TaPweR

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorFionaD

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1Pc0zTD

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorfionaD/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorfionad/

 

 

 

Amazon

I would kill for her.

Harper


The night Arsen killed my father was the first time I realized the lengths he’d go to keep me safe. He might have done it to protect me, but he was still convicted and locked away for seven years.
And for that entire time I waited for him, knowing that once he was released, things needed to be said, the truth needed to be spoken.
And that day was today.
I loved him, but the look he gave me, the possessiveness and pent-up arousal reflected in his eyes … had me realizing one thing.
Now more than ever, he wouldn’t let me go.

Arsen

I went to prison for Harper, and I’d do it all over again to make sure she was safe. She was all I thought about the entire time I was behind bars, and it was her weekly visits that got me through the years, even if I tried pushing her away.
But after seven years of being locked up, I was finally released … and I was going to make her mine.

Warning: This is a short, dirty story about a hero who will go to any lengths to make sure the woman he loves is safe. With darker undertones and graphic scenes, there may be material some readers find offensive.

Harper

I’d thought about this moment plenty of times, fantasized about how it would be to finally have Arsen to myself. It would be passionate, consuming … filthy. It would take my breath away and leave me a shaking mess.
I knew this because when I looked at Arsen, that’s how I felt. He didn’t even have to touch me, didn’t have to say one word. Just a look in my direction and my knees threatened to buckle, my heart racing … my pussy becoming wet.
So I knew being with him in this way, sexually, possessively … intensely, would be mind-numbing.
And it was.
It is.
I was on the bed, totally naked, my legs spread, and Arsen staring at me like he was barely hanging on to his control.
I knew the feeling.
We were both naked, and as much as I knew we should take things slow, savor this, I knew it wouldn’t go down that way.
I didn’t want it to.
My throat was tight, my mouth dry.
Every hard ridge, dip, and bulge of his muscles was shown in startling clarity, and my heart jackknifed behind my ribs. Arsen was big and muscular, far larger than what he’d been before going to prison. He looked like a man now, hard edges and a fierce composure.
And his tattoos … far more than he’d had before going into prison. They were dangerous, frightening, and even aggressive in their appearance.
And they turned me on even more.
So much strength it made me breathless.
“Harper,” he whispered in this gruff voice, pitched low, deadly. “I want to make this good for you, baby.”
“Don’t hold back.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t want easy or gentle. I just want you.”
I was wet, almost embarrassingly so.
He moved back enough that I could see the long, hard, impressive length of his shaft.
He had a dark line of hair that started right below his belly button and continued its downward path to his cock.
My mouth dried at the size of him.
The thought came to mind that he was so thick and long I didn’t know if he’d fit comfortably inside of me. It was a ludicrous thought, because I knew I was made for him, built for whatever he had to give me. But I didn’t care, because I’d take every last inch of him.
“Harper, baby girl, I’m hanging onto a thread here, and you staring at my dick isn’t helping my self-control.” His voice was sharp, like a serrated blade running across my naked body.
I shivered in response and lifted my gaze to look into his face.
His eyes were half-closed, his head lowered. Arsen looked feral, which matched his outward appearance to a T. He reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking the thick, long length obscenely. “You want this?”
“God,” I whispered, that lone word leaving me. “Yes.” I stared into his darkened eyes again, seeing my beautiful monster standing before me, ready to claim me. “Come here. Take me.”

Jenika Snow, a USA Today bestselling author, lives in the northeast with her husband and their children.

She prefers gloomy days, eats the topping off of her pizza first, and prefers to wear socks year round.

Author Links

Twitter  Facebook  Web  Goodreads  Amazon

Amazon

Dear Ms. Keane,

Before this ridiculous little arrangement commences, I’d like to make myself indubitably clear: I know who you are, I know that my father hired you, I know why my father hired you, and lastly, your services aren’t needed.

In fact, I want no part of my father’s billion-dollar empire, and him “gifting” me with one of the “best concierges in the county” won’t change that. He’s wasting his money. You’re wasting your time.

However, seeing as how you foolishly signed an ironclad contract with an Act of God clause and my father has strong-armed me into taking this position, it appears as though we’re stuck together—at least until your contract is up next month.

That said, our time together at WellesTech should be relatively painless but please don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t notice when that pretty little stare lingers a little too long or the way your breath catches when our hands graze. You’re fascinated by me and it kills you because you can hardly stand to be in the same room as me.

Think I’m a problem worth solving? An impossible riddle worth figuring out? By all means, go ahead and try. Solve for X. Crack the code. It might even be fun (but only for me, not you).

V/r,

Calder Welles, II

P.S. I dare you.

What.
The fuck.
Was that?
She’s the woman my father hired? The girl who spilled her coffee down her shirt after bumping into me in the hall?
That’s fucking golden. I can’t even be mad right now.
It makes perfect sense.
He brought on an assistant who happens to have all of the qualities he thinks I lack. She’s civil, tactful, punctual, classy as fuck.
I bet he thinks she’s going to be a good influence on me, like she can fucking domesticate me and turn me into a Corporate American civil servant.
Poor thing. She doesn’t realize she stepped inside the lion’s ring with nothing but a flimsy whip and a barstool. I’m not that easily tamed.
Regardless, I don’t know her name, but already I’m impressed. She’s not afraid to stand up for herself. I like that. If she’d given me a chance to explain, I’d have told her that’s what I meant when I said she was exactly my type.
I’m not a moron. I know she didn’t think I was flirting with her. I know she didn’t come back over because she wanted me. Quite the opposite. I saw the contention in that caramel-brown gaze of hers.
I also sensed a very raw, very real mutual attraction brewing—and that’s why I called it like it was and referred to her as a snack.
It was for the best.
I didn’t come here tonight to get laid. I’ve got bigger, more important things on my mind.
I watch the pretty little brunette with the black sweater grab her bag from her booth and storm out of the bar, her blonde friend in tow, and I toss back the rest of my Hennessy in one swallow.
Slapping some cash on the table, I take off and head back home, this time opting to walk.
Fresh air.
Deep thoughts.
A strong drink coursing through my veins.
If I’m lucky, these things plus a good night's sleep will work together, helping me come to terms with what I’ve got to do in the morning.
Making my way through a crosswalk, I pass one of those sickeningly sweet couples walking hand-in-hand with that new-in-love look in their shiny eyes.
That kind of thing has never appealed to me, and if I’m being honest, a long-term relationship baked in exclusivity seems like a prison sentence. Who the hell wants someone they have to report to? Someone who has to know where they are at all times? Someone who expects them to be there when they call? Someone who has access to every aspect of their life?
It’s Bridgeforth Academy all over again, only the relationship version.
Pass.

Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.




And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j

Author Links

Goodreads Facebook  Amazon