Title: He Saved Me
Series: He Found Me #2
Author: Whitney Barbetti
Release Date: December 18, 2014
Genre: New Adult Romance
Title: He Saved Me
Series: He Found Me #2
Author: Whitney Barbetti
Release Date: December 18, 2014
Genre: New Adult Romance
JulianI’ve come to understand that I’ll always find her. She’s my North Star, my sense of direction. In her, I’ve found my home. She tells me I saved her. But the truth is, she saved me. But nothing good can ever last. Andra’s keeping secrets. She’s holding something back. I’m trying, desperately, to anchor her. To let me in, to let me help. But will all my efforts end up with a ghost of a girl I love?
AndraI’m used to disappearing. Vanishing into thin air, without a trace of who I’ve been or where I’ve gone. But it’s so much harder to do with a broken heart and no hope for a happy ending. Sometimes the only people who can put all the pieces of us back together are the ones we least expect to. That’s what Julian did for me. Julian found me. But now, all Six wants is to keep me locked up, away from the world, away from the Monster. I can’t live like that. It’s not living at all. Because I still have unfinished business. And I’m going to make sure the Monster gets what’s coming to him. The first book, HE FOUND ME, is available on Kindle Unlimited.
GIVEAWAYSInstead of one Rafflecopter with one winner, Whitney Barbetti is going to be doing TOUR STOPS on December 17, 18, 19, and 20. She'll be doing a one-hour takeover at 9 PM EST in the following Facebook groups. Join these groups and stay tuned win paperbacks, swag, and ebooks! December 17: Barbetti's Babes December 18: Grayson's Girls December 19: Three Girls and a Book Obsession Book Club December 20: Dearest Series Fans
Connect with Whitney Barbetti
And ours? Isn't pretty...
Then again, what's pretty about the mafia?
Trace Rooks, thatâs what.
But she only wants one of us, and I'll kill him before I let him have her.
The only problem?
And she may just be our long lost enemy.
Whoever said college was hard, clearly didn't attend Eagle Elite University.
Welcome to hell also known as the Mafia where blood is thicker than life, and to keep yours? Well, keep your friends close, and your enemies?
Enforce/Nixon by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.
Enforce/Chase by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.
Enforce:Tex by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.
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 and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
We are so incredibly excited to be able to bring you the Release Day Launch for Cora Carmack's INSPIRE! INSPIRE is a New Adult Paranormal Romance novel and the first book in her new Muse Series!! Holy canoli, y'all. Go out and get this today!Excerpt: I can feel Wilder’s breath against my lips. More than that, I can see it. The sun has set and the temperature has dropped, and air fogs between us. There’s something about actually seeing it, like our lips are touching, we are touching, despite the distance between. And as we sway from side to side, my heart gradually begins to pick up speed. The strains of guitar music flowing out from the restaurant are nearly indecipherable over the heavy heartbeat in my ears. But Wilder must hear it. His hands are strong on my body, guiding my movements, and I’m practically clay in his palms. We dance, eyes on eyes, lips nearly on lips, and there is lightning beneath my skin each time his body brushes against mine in a new way. His touch is firm, but gentle, never pushing or pressuring, though I can tell from the dark look in his eyes that he’s just as affected as I am. The music shifts, building to a crescendo, and he spins us. My chest pushes tight against his, and I bite back a gasp. I don’t know if it’s the cold or him or some combination of both, but the tips of my breasts are painfully tight. Just the pressure of my bra is enough to rub them raw. I remember the night at his apartment, the way he’d taken his time learning my body. I think of the heat of his mouth on my skin, and the memory alone is enough to make me shiver and clench. He’s back to being business, grown-up Wilder tonight in his button down and glasses. Only now that I know him, it doesn’t seem like such a stark difference. He is neither the straight-laced man nor the tattooed bad boy. Or perhaps he’s both. Regardless of what he’s wearing, Wilder is caring and loyal and strong and so sexy that I’m having trouble remembering why I shouldn’t push him into the backseat of his SUV and crawl on top of him. About Cora Carmack: Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too. Her first book, LOSING IT, was a New York Times and USA Today bestseller.
Website ** Twitter ** Facebook ** Author Goodreads ** INSPIRE Goodreads
Title: Axel Hitch (Book 4: A Celtic Knot Companion)
Author: Cassy Roop
Genre: BDSM Erotica
Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs by Cassy Roop
Kelly Harris is feisty and her strong nature can probably rival that of most men. She isn’t one to take crap from anyone and has a tendency to challenge those who challenge her. A painful childhood left Kelly with a need for control in all things that she is unwilling to relinquish. Being known to dump men after just one date or one time in the sack is her usual style, until she meets Knoxville Tanner.
Knoxville Tanner is the co-owner of the BDSM club, The Celtic Knot. Having had his heart trampled on has left him jaded. The club gave him the ability to satisfy his sexual needs without the risk of commitment. On the night of the club’s grand opening, however, after meeting Kelly…that all went out the window.
Will Knox be able to concede control in order to give the one he loves what she desperately needs; and will Kelly be able to accept the sacrifice and in return give Knox the one thing that she has guarded the most…her heart?[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmvoIgAY6Lw[/embed]
Cassy is a fitness goddess by day and smexy author by night. When she isn't writing furiously on her next novel, she's making books look beautiful inside and out as a graphic designer. She has an unhealthy obsession with peanut butter, pedicures, and all things Les Mills group fitness. She has been known to juggle seven children at a time (not all hers!) and has on occasion been seen purchasing clothes that aren’t athletic apparel (although rare).
She released her debut, The Price of Love, in March of 2014.
The Celtic Knot Novels are her first erotic romance series and Books 1 and 2, Ashley’s Bend and Figure Eight both reached #1 in Erotic Thrillers on Amazon. Book 3, Triquetra, releases September 22, 2014 and book 4 the companion novel, Axel Hitch will release late Autumn 2014.
Welcome to theGRAND REOPENING OF THE CELTIC KNOT!!
Don't miss out...there will be games, prizes, giveaways, special appearances, and a whole lot of Cassy Roop!
Hosted by Dominic, Ashley, Knox, and Kelly!!
With Special Guests...
1:00 - 2:00 PM EST/ 6 - 7 UK Cassy Roop 2:00 - 3:00 PM EST/ 7 - 8 UK Kirsty E Moseley 3:00 - 4:00 PM EST/ 8 - 9 UK Ker Dukey Author 4:00 - 5:00 PM EST/ 9 - 10 UK S.K.Hartley 5:00 - 6:00 PM EST/ 10 - 11 UK Dawn H Sidebottom 6:00 - 7:00 PM EST/ 11 - 12 UK Aleatha Romig 7:00 - 8:00 PM EST/ 12 - 1 AM UK BL Marsh 8:00 - 9:00 PM EST/ 1 - 2 AM UK Cassy Roop
Title: Royal Blood
Series: Royal Blood #1
Author: Amity Cross
Release Date: December 8, 2014
A hit gone wrong, an impossible contract, revenge and the ultimate kicker… falling in love.
Mercy Reid is a runner.
She found the perfect place to hide, until it wasn't.
Xavier "X" Blood always gets what he wants.
He had the perfect arrangement, until it wasn't.
X is the mysterious tough guy from Royal Blood MC who gets shit done. Cross the Club and you get a visit from X. Only one person walks away at the end of it...and it isn't you.
Mercy is hiding something. Something big. Looking to get lost, she runs from one hopeless situation right into the clutches of a monster.
When X and Mercy meet, something more electrifying than sparks fly. Something dangerous, passionate and forbidden.
When you deal in death, there's only one way things can end...
Or is there?
- If you like sparkly unicorns and hearts, Royal Blood IS NOT for you.
- If you like dark twisty anti-heroes and heart stopping roller coasters, Royal Blood IS for you.
- If you like teddy bears and kittens with whiskers, Royal Blood IS NOT for you.
- If you like unapologetic alpha males that drip sex and talk dirty, Royal Blood IS for you.
You have been warned.
Links to Buy
Sliding out of the booth, I sauntered across the pub and ducked behind the counter. Nobody gave me a second glance. They didn’t know who I was, nobody did, but they knew I wasn’t anybody good. Peering through the window on the door, Mercy had her back turned, wiping at her damp T-shirt. I could step into her from behind and show her how hard I was…but that wasn’t the way this game was going to be played.
Pressing the door open with the flat of my palm, she looked up at me with blue eyes that gave away two things. Her hair wasn’t naturally black and by the way her pupils dilated, she was amped up. I was interested in only one of these observations and by the way my cock began to stir, there was no guessing which one was the money shot.
Mercy glared up at me, trying to cover her surprise at my appearance.
“What the fuck do you want?” she spat, dabbing at her tiny T-shirt with a rag. “You’re not allowed back here. Employees only."
I stepped closer, not put off by her tone at all. I’d had worse.
“I don’t give a shit,” I said.
She eyed me, her gaze raking from head to cock and back up again.
I quirked an eyebrow, my lip curling in amusement.
“If you want something, just fucking say it,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are."
“X, what?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. Bitch didn’t miss a trick.
“It’s my name."
"X as in the letter x?" She rolled her eyes.
"Got a problem?" I asked, inching closer.
“Yeah.” She nodded at me. “You’re in a staff only area. You might be all buddy buddy with Weiss, but I don’t know you from shit."
“The mouth on you,” I breathed, totally turned on. I knew she had bite in her, but fucking Jesus H Christ. The more she bit, the harder I got. My gaze rested on her tits. Yeah, I was a tits man through and through and hers...
“You think I’m going to let you fuck me?” she scoffed, her bluntness doing nothing but turning me on even more.
My gaze snapped back to hers. “Who said I was going to fuck you?"
She pressed her hips forward, her groin rubbing into mine. “Your cock."
My hand shot up and grasped the hair at the nape of her neck. With a sharp tug, her head fell to the side, leaving her neck exposed. If I was an asshole, I’d just take her now, but I wasn’t…fuck that. I was an asshole. Asshole was too safe a word to describe the kind of man I was.
“No,” I said, running my gaze down her pale neck and over her tits. “No, I’m not going to fuck you, Mercy.” She gave me a look that screamed ‘offended' and it only made me grin wider. “Not here. When I fuck you, I’m not going to share your screams with anyone."
Her entire body shivered and I knew I had her. Next time, she would come to me.
Letting her go, I let her hair run between my fingers and it took her a beat too long to step back and separate our bodies.
Giving her one last appreciative look, I turned on my heel and exited the ‘employee only’ room. I could wait. My cock strained against my jeans in protest, but this was one desire I was playing out and savoring.
I strode across the bar and pushed out the door, rearranging myself.
I could wait.
Amity Cross isn’t my real name. That’s no secret.
I didn’t want my Mum and my workplace to find out I wrote about doodles and tongue-in-cheek sexual innuendo.
I live in a leafy suburb of Melbourne writing about screwed up relationships and kick ass female leads that don’t take s**t lying down.
Insert more pretentious c**p here.
$10 Amazon gift card + Signed Paperback of Royal Blood
Title: Cadence (Deception #2)
Authors: Ker Dukey & D. H. Sidebottom
Genre: Erotic Romance
Cover Design: Ker Dukey
Photographer: Clyph Jean Philippe
Cover Model: Florian Julien Dutheil
He had her love. Her devotion. He destroyed her with it!
Years I loved Faye Avery from a distance, watched my brother have something he didn't deserve. She was always too good for him. Dante had a need for control and that grew with him from childhood, infecting her to bend to his whim.
When Dante abandoned her, the girl who put his future and needs before her own, I rediscovered the girl who lost herself to the heartache. She blossomed and flourished in the light of the love she deserved - until he robbed me of her. Breaking her down, dimming the essence of the woman she had become.
Dante had a darkness inside him that led him down a path of depravity. He was too far gone. He functioned on corruption, humiliation, power and retribution, and all for something that never happened.
What he forgets is this! I not only wear his face, I carry the darkness inside of me too, and my wrath will coat him with it so thick he will drown under the rain of my reckoning.
He wants Star, a memory of a girl he used to know. He stole Faye, a woman who owns my heart and is the cadence in mine.
I will find him.
I will take her from him.
And then I will kill him.
I have always had a passion for storytelling, whether it be through lyrics or bed time stories with my sisters. I wanted to be an actress growing up so I could live many roles but I learned early on that my mind was too active... I would want to change the script.I would watch films and think of ways they could of improved the story if they took another direction so i thought it best that i tell my own.
My mum would always have a book in her hand when I was young and passed on her love for reading, inspiring me to venture into writing my own. I tend to have a darker edge to my writing. Not all love stories are made from light, some are created in darkness but are just as powerful and worth telling.
When I'm not lost in the world of characters I love spending time with my family. I'm a mum and that comes first in my life but when I do get down time I love attending music concerts or reading events with my younger sister.
You can find me on Facebook where i love interacting with my readers.
::::FOLLOW KER DUKEY @::::
Author of The Heart of Stone, Room 103 and Shadows of Sin series, and the new Blue Butterfly series.
D H Sidebottom is a fulltime mum/author. She lives in Derbyshire, England with her children and two dogs.
She is an avid reader and her tastes range from horror to erotic, but she loves to help new authors get into the ‘scene’. She loves rock music and tattooed guys, and has a weakness for coffee, wine and Belgian buns
::::FOLLOW D.H. SIDEBOTTOM @::::
Book Title: Covert Author: G.K. Moore Genre: New Adult/Romantic Suspense Release Date: December 2, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast PromotionsG.K. Moore loves cake, romances with alpha males and happily ever afters. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, stalking friends on Facebook, watching bad reality TV, traveling, torturing her hubby with ideas for new stories or doing all of the above at the same time. Her debut novel, a romantic suspense, is coming out December 2nd and the backdrop is one of her all time favorite cities, Chicago.
OLIVIAI stared at the lifeless body on the floor, thinking about the blood seeping into the wood and staining it. It would be impossible to clean. The wooden floorboards would have to be replaced. The gun I had just fired fell from my hand. The clattering noise it made as it hit the ground startled me out of my skin. The sight of the gun, lying in a puddle of blood, and the metallic scent invading my senses made me tremble. Maybe I was going into shock. My mind raced, trying to figure out what I should do next, but I couldn’t think of anything. Other than calling him. After six years, I had truly believed I was free from my past. I had been sure he would never be a part of my life again. After all, he had made that choice. But, with a bleeding body on my floor, it seemed that facing him would be inevitable. I took a slow step back, away from the blood pooling near my feet, only to stumble over my purse that still lay where I had left it when I entered my apartment. Keys, my chipped powder compact, three nickels and a quarter, an uncapped pen I’d borrowed from the bank, and my phone skidded out across the floor. Entranced, I watched as my pink lipstick tube rolled over to the door. The sudden urge to cry and scream welled up in my throat. I sank to my knees and reached for my phone—it had fallen near the couch. I cringed at the sight of the dark blotches on the couch’s white fabric. In the daylight, they would be splashes of deep, sticky red. I swallowed the lump in my throat, picked up my phone, and scrolled down the contact list. My thumb hovered over the word ‘HIM.’ I hesitated. Swallowed again. Then, I pressed the dial button. It rang once. “What’s wrong?” he answered. I whimpered at the sound of his smoothly calm voice—a voice that had haunted me for years. I briefly listened to his breathing, wondering how he knew that I needed him. I shook my head and bit back a dejected laugh. Of course, he knew. I wouldn’t be calling unless it was a matter of life or death. “Someone was here,” I whispered as if not to startle the corpse. My voice sounded raspy and thick with unshed tears. For the most part, up until this point, I had actually impressed myself by not freaking out. Now, my well-crafted façade was cracking. I could hear his breathing quicken slightly. “Are you all right?” I soaked in the alarm in his voice, letting it wrap me up like a balm to a sting. I closed my eyes and willed my voice to sound firm. “You need to send a crew,” I said. “Fuck… cleaners?” he asked, letting out a heavy breath. I nodded. After a moment, I realized I hadn’t actually answered. “Yes, I’m in Chicago… in my apartment on the corner of—” “I know where you live. Sit tight. Tiny will be there in no time—” I hung up, not strong enough to listen to his voice any longer. Sitting on the floor, I dropped the phone in another loud clatter and brought my knees to my chest. I wasn’t startled or even fully conscious of the continuous vibrating of my phone. It just danced in the dark, dangerously close to the pool of blood. I watched it, lost in thought of how naïve I’d been. I should’ve known the past would catch up to me—he would always catch up with me. Closing my eyes, I let a sliver of happiness creep up inside. I would see Tiny again. The happiness lasted just until I remembered why I would see him again and was replaced by a sharp pain in my chest. I looked over at the dead body once more and shivered, the sickeningly sweet metallic scent of blood churned my stomach. It was unbearable. I started dry heaving uncontrollably and leaned on my hands for support. I hadn’t eaten all day so there was nothing my body could purge itself of, save for the acid burning the back of my throat. When the dry heaving stopped, I sat back and wrapped my arms around my legs. Leaning my forehead on my arms, I made myself breathe through my mouth. I didn’t want to smell it anymore. And, I was pretty good at convincing myself if I couldn’t see or smell it, it didn’t exist. So, I sat there, rocking myself in the dark, repeating four words like a mantra. He can fix this. It might have been a few minutes, or hours, before I heard the front door creak open. Although I was in plain sight, I couldn’t make myself move from my position. The door opened, but I didn’t raise my head. I heard several pairs of footsteps treading the floor almost imperceptibly as they invaded my home. “Clear,” several voices said at the same time. “Stand guard. We’re coming down in a few,” Tiny’s deep voice called out from the door. The men moved around while Tiny approached me. He took a couple of steps and came to an abrupt stop. “You left the door unlocked.” His tone was harsh, accusatory. Truthfully, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone else might come to finish the job. I could sense Tiny’s stare on me. After a moment, he spoke. “Fuck,” he said. I looked up to him now, but I knew he was looking at the man beside me. I followed his gaze and then averted my eyes. I sniffled, not realizing until then that I had been crying. Straining, I fixed my eyes on Tiny’s perfectly polished patent leather shoes that shone even in the dark. “Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling down in front of me. His words had an almost affectionate undertone, something rare for him. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Was I okay? Hardly. No. I raised my eyes to his. I unlocked my arms and wiped my tear-stained face with my hands. He frowned. “I’m fine,” I said before nodding towards the body. “But... that’s going to leave a stain.” Tiny chuckled and shook his head lightly. I couldn’t help the slight upward curling of my lips, despite the horror I had just gone through. I had lived by so many rules, for so many years that even now, as an adult, I couldn’t help the impulse to follow them. Everything needed to be clean and in perfect order. I shouldn’t be too loud. Speak too much. Attract any attention. And, I certainly shouldn’t have a dead body on my floor. “Come on, Lou. Let’s get you out of here,” he said as he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I frowned. No one had called me Lou in years—these days I went by Livi. I didn’t fight him; I needed to get out of there. “My purse,” I said, looking down at the black leather bag whose contents were still spilled all over the floor. It was truly absurd to worry about something so trivial after all that had just happened, but old habits died hard. Really hard. And, that was my favorite lipstick. “I’ll take care of it,” Tiny said. He placed his hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me gently towards the door. I suddenly panicked. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “We need to go, now.” Tiny pushed again, urging me to move, but my feet remained glued in place. “I-I can’t leave like this, I have to pick up my things,” I said turning around. My eyes watered at the sight of the mess in front of us. “Don’t worry about it,” Tiny said, now grabbing my arm. I shook my head again and tried to pull out of his grasp, but he didn’t let go. “I need to clean up, I’ll probably have to bleach the—” “Lou!” Tiny said, grasping my shoulders and forcefully turning me to look at him. “Snap out of it.” That’s when I freaked out. My whole body started trembling uncontrollably and my breathing hitched. I chewed the inside of my cheek to try to stop myself from crying, but when I bit too hard and tasted the metallic tang of blood, my tears spilled over. A sob escaped me. I covered my mouth with my hands, startled by my reaction. “Damn it,” Tiny said, shaking me slightly. “You need to calm down.” I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, ignoring the taste in my mouth. When I felt in control again, I opened my eyes. “Are you good?” Tiny asked. I nodded. He looked at me doubtfully, so I wiped my face and breathed in deeply again before answering. “I’m good,” I said. “Okay, then let’s get you the fuck out of here.” This time when he guided me, I followed his lead. A man stood guard at the door, but I hardly looked at him. I just saw the bloody mess everywhere. Thankfully, Tiny helped me down the two flights of stairs otherwise I would have crumbled. He stepped outside first, his body tense, prepared to attack any other assassin. Then, he turned back to me and waved me forward. Slowly, I stepped into the cold night. Another man in a black suit stood just outside the entrance. There were four black SUVs with tinted windows parked in front of us with men standing guard in front of them. They had come like an army intent on making a statement--Don’t fuck with us. The sight of them brought back my most painful memories. I hesitated, but Tiny pushed me forward. He walked with purpose, hovering over me. With Tiny, there was never time for uncertainty. He opened the door and carefully, but firmly, helped me inside the car. The driver stood beside his own door, intently scanning the surroundings, and looked up at Tiny’s approach. “I gotta go clean up. Liam will follow you,” Tiny said to the driver. Turning to me, he added, “Tate will take care of you.” “Where is he taking me?” I asked before he could shut the door. Noticing the panic in my own voice, my eyes glazed over in shame; I didn’t want him to see how scared I was of his answer. “Home.” The way he said it left no room for arguing. Still, I opened my mouth. “But—” “This is not up for discussion,” Tiny said. I nodded, resigned as he closed the door behind me. Tate started the car. I didn’t know him, and his grave face was not reassuring. He glanced a final time at the rearview mirror and drove off. I turned around and noticed that one of the other cars was following us. That must have been Liam—whoever that was. I still couldn’t believe Tiny had left me alone with a stranger. His size alone made me nervous and the fact that he hadn’t spoken to me yet was unnerving. Tate was almost too big for the interior of the car, even though he was still not as large a man as Tiny. The driver’s seat was shoved all the way back, squeezing my legs awkwardly into a twisted, painful position. When I decided to slide over to the other side, Tate broke the silence. “Keep your head down,” was all he said. My head snapped up to look at him through the rearview mirror. He didn’t meet my gaze. “I will, but I need to move because you’re crushing me,” I said through clenched teeth. Tate didn’t react. I started pulling at the buckle of the seat belt, trying to release it, but my hands trembled too much. I finally let go, defeated by the device. When I looked back up, I noticed Tate smirking. He was a real charmer. I sighed and decided to stay put and suffer through the numbness in my legs. We finally merged onto the almost deserted I-94 highway. I didn’t want to think about what would happen next and tried to distract myself from those thoughts by examining Tate. He had broad shoulders and, beneath his suit, I knew he would be all hard muscle. I took in his blond hair and brooding eyes, color unknown in the dark, and startled when I noticed his gaze fixed on mine. I was embarrassed to have been caught staring at him and offered a small smile as an apology. His eyes narrowed slightly. My heart sped up, though I couldn’t identify the emotion. My brain seemed to freeze at that moment, unable to process any more information. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out several times, just like my therapist had told me to do when I felt a panic attack coming. Slowly, I calmed myself enough to open them again. Tate was no longer looking at me. Relieved, I stared out the window as we sped through the city. My thoughts traveled to the past. This wasn’t the first time I had killed someone. Six years ago, I had watched a man bleed out on a cold floor while I cried helplessly. The memory of that night was my own private nightmare—a nightmare I thought would only ever repeat itself in my dreams. I was wrong. It was six years ago all over again.
Where she’s been for the last two and half years is a mystery, and so is the reason she left in the first place. Now, though, she’s back in their hometown of Shelton Bay, South Carolina, at the same time Conner’s band Dirty B is home on a tour break.
Sofie Callahan has spent the months since her father’s death avoiding anything to do with her home town. But with her brother in Afghanistan, she has no choice but to return and sort out her father’s house, even if it means facing the boy she fell in love with and revealing the reason she left.
Conner has questions, and when his broken heart and her guilty one collide, Sofie has to start answering them. Their present is rocky, their future unknown. Only one thing is certain:
Sofie’s daughter will change everything.
That kid that could be mine. I get up and let the empty bottle drop to the floor. The woods are eerily quiet, as if it can sense my anger. As if it knows the bitterness that lingers in my veins, as if it knows the burn of not knowing anything. Like the woods, I’m left in the dark. Completely. Branches and twigs crunch under my feet as I increase my pace to a gentle jog. And again, to a slow run. Then to a sprint. The need to know increases with every footstep, as evenly paced as the ticking of the clock. It doesn’t matter that I’ve probably drunk too much beer to be here or that we’ve only been back for a matter of days. I can’t be in this shithole full of memories without knowing. I can’t move on until I know. I can’t forgive her for a single fucking thing until I know—and even then, maybe I won’t be able to. Maybe she’s unforgivable. Instead of knocking on the back door like I did yesterday, I round the side of the house to the front door. The front room light glows softly through the curtains, but the rest of the house is dark. My chest heaves with the exertion of my run here and I grab the doorframe to balance myself. I’m definitely too fucking drunk for this conversation, but what the hell. I bang on the door, once, twice, again and again and again. “Sofie! Open the fuckin’ door!” “Shut up!” she hisses, yanking it open. “The hell’re you doing here?” I smirk, leaning against the wall. “Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that, princess?” “Are you drunk?” Her voice rises a little at the end, and her eyes widen. Those eyes. Fuck, those baby blues that have always undone me. “Drunk? No. If I was drunk I’d be sitting at home like a miserable bastard and not here facing the cause of my misery.” “You’re being an asshole. I don’t have to listen to this.” She pushes on the door, but I wedge my foot in front of it. I let go of the wall and grab the edge of the door. “Actually, you do.” She can’t overpower me, and she knows it, because she lets up and the door swings open. “Why are you here, Conner?” “You have a kid.” She smacks her lips together. “Yep.” “When? When did you have her?” Sofie takes a deep breath in and presses her hands to her stomach. They’re shaking, even as she links her fingers to hide it. I can see that fucking tremble. She whispers something but I’m too pre-occupied by her hands to hear it. “What?” “August last year,” she repeats, still a whisper. August. Last year. My stomach clenches as I meet her eyes. “When? When in fuckin’ August, Sofie?” “August fifteenth.” Her voice hitches halfway through the ‘fifteenth.’ Almost seven months to the day she walked out on me and the rest of Shelton Bay. Adrenaline hums through my body, and I stare at her. At the tears building in her eyes, the quiver of her lips, the bob of her throat as she swallows harshly. It’s no different from the burn in my chest, the twisting of my stomach. “Is she mine?” She shudders and a tear drips from her eye. “Sofie. Is. She. Mine?!”
By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies - usually wine - and writes books.
Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life. Sign - up for her nesletter here: http://eepurl.com/YQvfn
Title: Once Upon A Time
Author: S.K. Hartley
Genre: Romantic Comedy | Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: S.K. Hartley
I don't believe in fairy tales. I don't believe in glass slippers. I don't believe in Prince-Freaking-Charming.
Cinderella can kiss my ass.
I kiss frogs, sometimes even toads. I've given up on meeting Mr. Right, instead it seems all I meet is Mr. Wrong, Mr. Very-Wrong and even, Mr. Lets-Not-Even-Go-There.
Fairy tales are for morons.
Well, that's what I thought until Gabriel Black barged through my life, turning everything upside down. He's hot, sexy and little rough around the edges. But, he's hiding something, something deep. I can feel it, taste it and smell it.
Now I'm left wondering if he's my Prince Charming or my fairy tale villain. Will I ride away safely into the night, dreaming of happily ever afters? Or, will I stumble and fall in ridiculously high heels only meant for women with a death wish?
Once Upon A Time... I met Gabriel Black.
S.K. Hartley is a wife and mother to an oil soaked husband and a tomato sauce covered son by day, by night an International Bestselling Author who's first novel, Finding You, quickly shot up the charts in fall 2013, winning blog awards for the tear inducing writing and breath catching ending.
Since releasing her first novel, she then went on to release two more books in the series, Finding Me & Finding Us, proving that New Adult is vastly popular among readers and writers a like.
Located in the not so sunny North West of England, UK, S.K. Hartley deals with daily battles against Microsoft Office Word translations. Working as a British author who writes in American English is a challenge that's both frustrating and fulfilling.
When she's not doing all the above, S.K. Hartley spends the rest of her time interacting with her readers on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Google+ and also via her newsletter.
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