An Act of Courage (Acts of Honor Series – Book 4) by KC Lynn is now #LIVE! #OneClick this #NewRelease today!
“They say you will always remember your first kiss, but in my case, that’s a lie. Because any kiss I had before this one was obliterated the moment his lips fell upon mine.”Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2mHPjkRAmazon UK: http://amzn.to/2ndIDyYAmazon CA: http://amzn.to/2n6ho9dAmazon AU: http://amzn.to/2nrDUdx
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🔥❤🔥❤ Synopsis 🔥❤🔥❤
Going back to work was supposed to be a painless transition, but when my new boss turns out to be an arrogant, cocky jerk, he quickly turns my professional life into a world of torture. Okay, fine, calling him an asshat before knowing he was my boss wasn’t my finest moment. Hating him should be easy. I just never counted on him being so gorgeous or charming when he’s not annoying me.
I expected my new assistant to be professional and punctual, but all I’m getting are dirty looks and rude comments. I should fire the little hellion, but instead all I can think about is bending her over my desk and breaking every rule I’ve ever made for myself.
One look. One touch. One night. If we break the rules, our lives will never be the same again.
Good thing rules were made to be broken. And besides, it feels so good to Tempt the Boss
Beep, Beep, Beep. My hand snakes out from underneath the warm cocoon of my blankets. Grabbing my phone from the side table, I shut it off and bring it under the blankets with me. Seven minutes later, I feel it vibrate under my pillow between my hands.
Pulling myself up and swinging my legs out of the bed, I walk downstairs, going straight for the coffee machine. Thank god for this programmed machine, because the coffee is ready for me to drink.
I blink my eyes a couple of times while I turn on the light over the stove. With it lightly dimmed, I lean against the counter and look at the clock. Five-thirty on the nose. Smelling the coffee, I slowly take a sip to not burn my tongue. My brain jolts awake as the hot, strong brew rolls over my tongue.
It’s the calm before the storm. In thirty minutes, I will have to get the kids up and get them ready for the bus that is always here at exactly seven-ten.
I look into the dining room, taking in the hurricane that is my children. Opened backpacks linger on the floor near the chairs, papers are tossed on the table, homework they finished but haven’t put away. No matter how much I tell them to clean up the table before they go to sleep, Gabriel, who is ten, and Rachel, who is six and a half going on twenty, always leave it until the last minute. Something they inherited from their father.
I look around the house—the open concept floor plan makes it easy to see into the rooms around me—taking in the changes that the house has gone through in the last six months. No more men’s sneakers at the door. No more suit jackets hanging on the back of the chair at the table blending in with the backpacks.
Nope. Nothing. Nada. Taking another sip of the coffee, I let my mind wander to when it all changed.
Walking up to the children’s school for the parent/teacher interview, I am running late, of course. I had to pick up Gabriel from soccer practice, while rushing Rachel to gymnastics, then we grabbed McDonald’s in the car on the way home. Eating my cheeseburger in the car is why I now have a mustard stain on my shirt. Pulling a scarf that I find in my backseat, I throw it over my neck hoping it covers the stain.
Once in the school, I make my way to the classroom of Gabriel’s teacher. I run down a list of things that I need to get done when I get home. Thinking about the birthday parties that the kids are invited to this weekend. The gifts are already sitting in the trunk waiting to be wrapped. I hope that Jake will at least be available on Sunday.
Stay-at-home mom. That is my job, and I love it. Sometimes. Most times. More days than not. My husband, Jake, is an ad executive in the biggest marketing firm in the city. He spent the last eight years working his way up the ladder. His long work hours are our sacrifice until he gets that corner office, then he can cut back a bit. At least, that’s what he keeps saying. I still stand by my conclusion he is a workaholic.
We met when I was fresh out of college; I had just started working at the same agency he did. Not the one he’s with now, but the first agency he worked at after college. I was hired as the office temp assistant. Since it was a small office of only five, it was normal that we spent all day together. Those long hours together resulted in us becoming good friends. Becoming a couple was the natural next step. I don’t think it surprised anyone when we walked in on a Monday morning holding hands, both of us looking at each other with our hearts in our eyes.
Getting to Ms. Alvarez’s door, I knock once and then walk in. Looking around, I’m shocked to see Jake sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, while Ms. Alvarez sits in hers.
Walking up to him, I lean down and kiss him on the lips. “Hey, I didn’t know you would be here,” I say, sitting down in the chair next to him.
He nods at me and then looks down at his shoes. I don’t know how to describe what came next, except to say that my world crashed around me. It’s like my heart knew it. It’s like my body knew it had to go into protection mode.
“Lauren,” he says, still looking at his shoes. I look down at them wondering what he is looking at exactly. I will never forget them. Brown, with light brown laces. Stain free, scuff free. Clean.
It is at this point I start to panic, start to think something is wrong. “What’s the matter?” I ask him and then look over at Ms. Alvarez. She is gorgeous with beautiful thick, black curly hair that is always styled perfectly. Whether she wears it in a ponytail or loose, you can’t help but envy her fantastic hair. She always looks so put together, but right now, she’s looking at my husband nervously as she blinks away tears, and her hands clasped together in her lap are shaking.
“I’ve met someone.” The breath I have been holding rushes from my lungs. My legs go so weak, I feel it so strongly even though I am sitting. My heart is beating so hard and fast, I hear it echo in my ears. My mouth gets dry, and my hands start to tremble as I feel that heart starting to break.
“What?” I look at him and then at Ms. Alvarez. “Jake, now is not a good time. Not here.” It’s like I’m begging him to not tell me. Like I’m begging him to take it back.
“I love her,” he says with a whisper, and then all the pieces to the puzzle start coming together. Gabe’s tutoring classes that Jake would always pick him up from—the ones they’d always be late getting home from. I look at my son’s teacher and see a tear run out of the corner of her eye while she smiles at my husband. My fucking husband—the one who made vows to me. The one who promised to love, honor, and cherish me for the rest of his life.
“You?” I say to him and then look at her. “You slept with my husband?” I ask her while I feel Jake’s hand on top of mine. I shake it off, not wanting to feel his touch right now. Not wanting him to try to comfort me.
“It was me. I started this. I did this, not Camilla.” He tries to reach out and touch me again. Getting up from the chair, I start to pace the room. Thoughts are running through my mind. How did I not know? How did I not suspect? Was it because I was too tired for sex? Was it because I still needed to lose the extra ten pounds that I had lingering on me? Was it because I was too tired at the end of the day to even talk to him?
Stopping in my tracks, I look at them. He has now stood up and so has she. A desk still separates them. “We had sex last night,” I tell him, and he doesn’t continue to look at me; instead, he looks at her.
“It was the last time. Kind of a good-bye kind of thing,” he says, now looking at the floor.
“A good-bye thing.” I now raise my voice. “A good-bye thing?” I shake my head. “How long? How long has this been going on? How long have you been sleeping with your student’s married father?” My voice is firm, anger starting to rush through me.
“Lauren, let’s not—” he tries to say, but I don’t give him a chance. I yell, and this time loudly, “How long? How long have you been sleeping with her and coming home to me? How long have you been telling me you love me and lying about it? How fucking long, Jake? How much of my life is a lie?”
They both look at each other. “Seven months,” he answers right before there is a knock on the door. The principal sticks his head inside “Oh. Mr. and Mrs. Watson, is everything okay?” The poor man doesn’t see anything coming.
“Oh, we are totally fine.” My voice starts to rise, while my hands start to shake. “I’ve come to attend my son’s parent/teacher conference only to be told his teacher is fucking my husband. Looks like in addition to tutoring her students in math, she also offers sex ed lessons to their fathers! She deserves a raise.” I laugh humorlessly. Maybe I’m having a stroke. Maybe, just maybe, this is all a dream. “But other than that, I would say everything is perfect.”
I walk to the chair that I have been sitting in, picking up the purse that fell off my shoulder while my life fell apart. Grabbing it, I turn to walk out as Jake grabs my wrist. “Lauren, wait.”
I yank my wrist away from him, the force shocking both of us. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I hiss before I walk past the principal and right into the hallway, where I’m greeted by the president of the PTA, Colleen.
The tears have now started to freely fall down my cheeks. “Oh, honey, I just heard.” I look at this woman who I thought was actually my friend. I tilt my head to the side. “You knew?” I don’t really need her to answer, since she puts her head down to look at her hands she is wringing together.
I can’t stop the angry laugh that bursts from my mouth. I’m that oblivious spouse who everyone makes fun of. I’m that wife who said it would never happen to me. I’m that woman who they all feel sorry for. I’m her. That poor, clueless woman who can’t seem to keep her husband from falling dick first into a sexy, twenty-something woman. I look around to see who else is looking at us.
The secretary, the principal, Colleen, and four of her posse, who are there trying to get parents to join the PTA, Jake, and her. “Does everyone know he was having an affair? Was I the only one who didn’t know?” I throw my hands out to the side, turning on my heel as I walk out of the school, vowing never to return.
I get in my car and make one phone call to Kaleigh, my sister. I don’t know how much she understands between the sobs and the yelling, but ten minutes later when I pull up to the curb of my perfect house, she is there throwing Jake’s clothes out of our bedroom window. They land right in the front of my house on the lawn.
It takes her a full five minutes to toss everything out. I stand here, still in shock, still in a daze, looking at the mountain of his clothes. Clothes I bought him. Clothes I picked out. Clothes I washed, ironed, and put away. I don’t see Kaleigh come from the side of the house with the gasoline container in her hand. I just see her pouring it all over his clothes. She walks over to me, handing me the packet of matches. “Let’s burn this motherfucker down.”
And we do. Till one of the neighbors calls the fire department, who rush out, three full trucks, lights blaring in the night, an EMT, and one police cruiser. I sit here on my lawn, watching the flames rising up from the pile of everything that he owns before the whole mess is drenched in water.
The second alarm sounds, bringing me out of my trip back into that nightmare.
“Gabe! Rachel! Time to get up, guys! Mommy starts her new job today,” I yell, hoping they hear me. I take another sip of my coffee before I make my way upstairs to get ready for my new job. Yay me…
🏵🏵🏵 About The Author🏵🏵🏵
When her nose isn’t buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she’s in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It’s a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn’t listen to her…
🌼🌼 Review by Tasha M 🌼🌼
Where do I start telling you about a book that will bring you to your knees, Gut you, make you Heart Sigh with Happiness. How do I tell ladies that have come to adore Christopher as much as I have, how he is so much more than we love and expected. No words can do him or this story justice…..
K. C Lynn has given us gutt-renchening before but this, this is different cos we know this little boy and how damaged he was. We know how he has lacked love and understanding but we always saw his true worth, we always knew how loved he was when Faith found him. And By-God was it Beautiful and Magical watching him realise it.
Only Strongest of Women know how to take care of Men as Damaged as Cade and Christopher. These boys are so lucky to have her but more so Christopher and he is even more blessed cos he has Alissa, watching him love her and do what was best for her was Beautiful and at times Heart shattering. But these boys are not stupid they know when God hands then a second chance and when they grab on, they do so Gripping tightly with both hands. Christopher would move Heaven and Hell for his Ladies but for Alissa he would go Beyond that if needed, he would lay down his life for her. And he did it many times without even blinking. That’s the strength and bond of their love.
Alissa she knew what she was getting into when she fell inlove with this tortured Soul and she knew she would battle all his demons even when he wasn’t strong enough to do it. She stood by him and held his hand even when he was against himself, she did that and way more. Only True, Honest unconditional Love and Courage can see you through what they went through. True Love will always win, it can be your Absolute strength, and it’s the only thing that can Heal a shattered Soul.
These two are such an amazing couple they prove Time and anger can never diminish love. Even if Christopher doesn’t see it Alissa has always seen them at the finish line Smiling, happy and stronger with thier own HEA. I loved seeing that. I loved knowing once he works through the all his baggage he is only gonna know Beautiful Bliss.
Grab this book ladies. I know there will be times you are a blubbering mess but it’s all so worth it especially knowing this will Heal and lead to Christopher and Alissa getting all the happiness they deserve finally.
Also for all the Cade and Ruthie lovers like me you will definitely not be disappointed.
This book is just So Magical and Beautiful. I hope you all love it as much as I did…
One More Night by Sarah O’Rourke
Buy Link: http://amzn.to/2mORllb
Crenshaw Jacobson met the woman of his dreams…and he was determined to spend every night possible with her. But Waverlee Armstrong was leery of commitment, having been abandoned by her family at an early age. She knew that she loved Shaw…but can she learn to trust him and spend just one more night? Instalove *** Novella *** Standalone
Written as part of Fiona Davenport’s Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World!
Shivering against him as she parted her lips to speak, Waverlee moaned as his tongue swept forward, stealing the opportunity to deepen their kiss. And holy moly, the man could kiss. And not just any old kiss either. It was the-steal-your-breath-I-can’t-live-without-his-touch-because-nothing-else-in-the-world-matters kind of kiss a girl spends her life dreaming about. Their tongues danced together for long minutes as everything else faded away. The people. The noise. Everything took a backseat to the fierce passion Shaw created with a simple touch of his mouth to hers.
Forcing herself to find her voice when Shaw lifted his mouth from hers to take a deep breath, Waverlee flashed a furtive glance up at his darkened eyes. “Wow,” she breathed shakily, clutching handfuls of his light blue dress shirt in her fists as the world seemed to spin at warp speed, “I..I…don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that before,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat as his finger swept against her lower lip.
“Then you best hold on real tight to me, baby, ‘cause I’m just getting started,” he replied, dropping his head to steal another deep, wet kiss from her lips as he curved one big hand around her neck, wrapping her silky hair around his fist and tugging gently.
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What is the Sex, Vows, and Babies Kindle World?
From sexy stories with married couples fighting against outside forces to keep their happily ever after in the Sex & Vows series to unexpected pregnancies that lead to happy marriages in the Yeah, Baby series… the Sex, Vows & Babies world is full of over the top alphas, sassy heroines, insta-love, wedding bells, and growing families. Although the wide cast of characters in both series have managed to find the loves of their lives, there’s bound to be plenty more out there who could use Sex, Vows & Babies in their lives. A creation of the fabulous Fiona Davenport, the Sex, Vows & Babies Kindle World is filled with creative stories from amazing authors who pay homage to the original books!
Check out all of the books in the Sex, Vows, and Babies Kindle World >>> http://amzn.to/2mAadmU
✮ ✮ ✮ COMING SOON! ✮ ✮ ✮
“He’ll stop at nothing to get this tightly buttoned up woman, completely unwound beneath him.”
HIS TO SEDUCE by Stacey Lynn is releasing in just one week!! #TeaserTuesday
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2mjJCNh
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2mUK85Z
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2lBxKHK
Books A Million: http://bit.ly/2mjnnqJ
An honorable man who’s lost his way . . . A career woman who hides behind her button-up suits . . . Unexpected romance is the specialty at the Fireside Grill as Stacey Lynn’s captivating series comes full circle.
Becoming an ER doctor had been David McGregor’s mission ever since he could remember. But after tragedy strikes at his hospital in Chicago, David runs away from the guilt—all the way back to Latham Hills, Michigan, where he takes a job tending bar at his childhood friend’s restaurant. That’s how he meets Camden Reed, and the way Camden refuses to give him the time of day should be a turnoff. Instead, he’s drawn to her tough, tightly wound exterior, and soon David realizes that he has a new mission: to see her tightly wound beneath him.
Camden’s fighting tooth and nail to resist the desire she feels for David. Growing up dirt-poor, raised by a single mother, she worked twice as hard to get where she is today, and she doesn’t have any patience for the kind of guy who’d give up a decent paycheck to sling drinks. But when the sexual tension finally combusts between the sheets, Camden discovers that people aren’t always what they seem. As David pushes her past her limits, Camden begins to loosen up—and to trust that, when she falls, there will be someone waiting to catch her.
Amazon : http://hyperurl.co/yp79mu
Nook : http://bit.ly/2c1BhJm
Kobo : http://bit.ly/2lHKnfG
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🔥🔥🔥🔥 SYNOPSIS 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Stolen by the Arziani Georgian crime mob as a child, 152 was raised and conditioned to be a Mona—the most subservient of the Arziani Blood Pit slaves.
Gorgeous and kind, she has been and under the imprisoning influence of the Type B drug and under the command of the Blood Pit Master’s sister, Mistress Arziani, for most of her life, until the Master calls her back home to Georgia.
He wants her under his total control, and Master always gets what he wants.
But when 152 is gifted to the Blood Pit’s fearsome champion death match fighter as a prize, 152 suddenly finds out that the men who appear most brutal, may just own the kindest hearts. And love may be found, even when living in hell.
Freedom, family, love, 152 will have to fight for what she wants and ultimately make an impossible choice.
❤❤❤❤❤ Excerpt ❤❤❤❤❤
He nuzzled his cheek against mine and said, “He wants you.” He stilled. In a flash, the cruel soul from last night possessed his being. Snapping his head up, lips curling, he hissed, “My High Mona. My pretty delicate petal. I don’t want to let you go, but it will serve a higher purpose.” His cheeks flushed with excitement. “Then I can own you completely. When my empire is secure, I can have you all day and all night. I will possess you in every pos- sible way.”
My blood turned cold at his words. Feeling a wetness on my wrist, I glanced over and saw blood trickling downward. Master saw it too and clicked his fingers at Maya, who was hovering like a shadow in the corner. “Clean it, chiri,” he snarled. Maya rushed to the water and wet a cloth, immediately cleaning my wrist. I tried to meet her eyes, but she kept her head down.
When my wrist was clean, I stared at the silver bracelet and im- mediately knew it was the drugs. Instead of a single injection, this would give me regular, automatic doses. The male in the white coat quickly moved around the table, unshackling me from the bed. Master helped me stand. When he did, he stepped back and ranged his gaze all over me.
“Perfection,” he whispered. I could see genuine pride in his ex- pression. Reaching down to his crotch, Master palmed his harden- ing length. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured. No sooner had his words left his mouth and he withdrew his hand than the ruthless Master of the Blood Pit suddenly reappeared.
With a surreal blankness now on his face, he walked out the door and called for a guard. When a Wraith arrived, Master in- structed, “Take her to him. Lock her in his cell.” He smiled that sadistic smile and added, “Don’t let him out until he fucks her.”
I heard Maya’s almost inaudible gasp beside me. But I raised my head and prayed that my fear wasn’t showing. Master pointed to the guard. “Follow him.”
I walked forward. Just before I reached the guard, Master gripped my arm and slammed my back against the wall. Before I could catch my breath, he smashed his lips to mine, ravishing my mouth with his.
Master abruptly pulled back, then stormed toward Maya. I didn’t understand what he was about to do, until he gripped her by the back of her neck and slammed her small body against the wall. I stood, motionless, as Master lifted his hand and sliced it across her face. He was taking everything out on her. She was too young to take such a cruel hand!
Desperate, my eyes drifted to Maya’s, and my heart cracked when I saw in her eyes that she was no longer in the room. Merci- fully, she had taken herself elsewhere.
By her reaction, I realized this wasn’t something new. Master had done this to the young girl before. Beat her. Hurt her, as though she was nothing . . . not even a human at all.
I felt sick to my stomach.
“Move!” The guard beside me ordered, as I stared helplessly at Maya hurting on the floor.
The male who had attached the bracelet worked on something at the back of the room, offering Maya no help. A surge of anger burned within me.
“I said move!” the guard snapped. I forced myself to follow him out of the room, ignoring the young boys in the cages, and into the hallway. When we reached the forked section, this time we went down the right hallway and descended. Unlike the left hallway, where it grew lighter the farther we walked, this hallway grew darker and danker.
My fear grew with every step we took. Then we reached a nar- row hallway. There was a wider hallway to the left. I started when, from that direction, I heard the loud sound of males shouting. I swallowed back my nerves when the guard walked straight ahead. The noise faded the farther we traveled, until we arrived at a small section housing only a few cells. It was much quieter here.
I tried to understand where we were. The guard walked past the cells. I tried to peer in, but unlike others I had seen, these had some semblance of privacy. I heard soft moans coming from one. Instinc- tively, I knew that a female was being pleasured.
The guard stopped and reached for the door before us. When the door opened, the guard looked at me and snapped, “Get in.” I hesitated when I looked inside. I couldn’t see anyone in there, the room was so dark.
When I didn’t move, the guard gripped my arm and hauled me forward. He pushed me inside. I stumbled, landing on the hard ground of the cell. My heart beat hard as I lifted my head. When I did, pure terror seized me.
Sitting on a mattress before me was him. The Blood Pit Cham- pion. The Arziani Pit Bull. Master’s greatest warrior.
And he was glaring at me.
Unmoving. Hatred spewed from his hard gaze.
I drew in a short breath, but it was cut off when 901 rolled to his feet. He stepped forward, his huge body towering above me. I choked back a scream.
He was the most intimidating male I had ever encountered. And I was trapped in his cell.
Completely alone. In the unwelcome company of a killer. And there was absolutely nothing I could do.
After she was gone, I walked over to the windows and drank in the scene. The Town Center was high enough that it had an unblocked view of downtown Manhattan, Brooklyn, and beyond.
Giddiness surged through me, starting like a pinprick at my center and moving out through my veins in all directions until even my fingers and toes felt warm.
I was really here.
I made it.
It wasn’t the way I thought it would be, but in the end, it still came out of my time at Harvard. I’d always known that connections made the difference in a career, and here I was. Finally. At the top of the world, looking out.
I couldn’t stop grinning.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” a male voice came from behind me.
Still smiling, I glanced up and caught his reflection in the window.
And everything disappeared.
The world that had buzzed below, the beautiful scene, the excitement that had unfurled through my body—all of it evaporated and all that existed in its place was a pale, hollow shell of myself and the man in the perfectly tailored suit behind me.
I turned to look at him directly. Our gazes smashed together, and my legs nearly fell out from under me.
“Donovan,” I rasped. It was a miracle that I managed to find enough voice to say that much.
And there was so much more that had to be said. So much more that I hadn’t prepared for. Which was ridiculous since I’d talked to him so many times in my head over the years, practiced so many conversations, but never did he show up out of the blue looking so dastardly handsome in a dark gray three-piece suit, his face rugged with scruff, his eyes hazel and earnest despite the playful smirk on his lips.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I wasn’t even sure how to breathe anymore.
He broke our gaze to nod out the window at the skyline, walking toward me as he said, “I’m sure you found the Empire.”
Though his focus was now on the scenery, I didn’t take my eyes off him as he approached. He didn’t stop until he was right beside me. So close our shoulders would touch if I coughed. Tension ran off him like foam spilling over from a mug of beer. Good tension. Bad tension. I wasn’t sure if there was a difference when it came to Donovan.
Which was why I was screwed if he was here.
Why the hell was he here?
“I thought you were in Tokyo.” I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’d gotten more refined with age, and rougher at the same time. His hair was short and his curls gone, giving him a polished look he lacked before. The lines by his eyes were more defined and his expression seemed harder than I’d remembered. It made him sexier.
As if he was a man who needed to be sexier than the one I knew.
“I came back two months ago,” he said offhandedly. “That’s it right there.” He leaned his face in close to mine as he pointed to the famous structure. “Do you see it?”
Fuck if I cared about the Empire. I was in Donovan Kincaid’s orbit. What else was there in the world?
Dirty Filthy Rich Men, an all-new contemporary romance from NYT Bestseller Laurelin Paige is coming March 27th!
Dirty Filthy Rich Men by Laurelin Paige
Publication Date: March 27th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
From NYT Bestselling author Laurelin Paige, discover a whole new world filled with sex, love, power, romance and dirty, filthy rich men.
When I met Donovan Kincaid, I knew he was rich. I didn’t know he was filthy. Truth be told, I was only trying to get his best friend to notice me.
I knew poor scholarship girls like me didn’t stand a chance against guys like Weston King and Donovan Kincaid, but I was in love with his world, their world, of parties and sex and power. I knew what I wanted—I knew who I wanted—until one night, their world tried to bite me back and Donovan saved me. He saved me, and then Weston finally noticed me, and I finally learned what it was to be in their world.
And then what it was like to lose it.
Ten years later, I’ve found my way back. Back to their world. Back to him.
This time, I’m ready. I’ve been down this road before, and I know all the dirty, filthy ways Donovan will try and wreck me.
But it’s hard to resist. Especially when I know how much I’ll like it.
🔥🔥🔥 EXCERPT 🔥🔥🔥
The sweat running down the valley between my breasts was reminiscent of fingers moving along me. I was hot, my body flushed, my heart racing. Everything in me felt alive, ready to tear through my skin like another entity wanting to escape.
I was drunk, and I felt incredible.
The bodies pressed tightly against me, moving sexually, suggestively, made me feel even better. It made me feel alive. I moved with them, swaying to the music, inhaling the scent of sex and alcohol that seemed to surround me. I was sure a lot of people would be fucking tonight. No doubt it would be dirty, their inhibitions having been left at the club as they took home a random person. It would be the kind of sex that drunk people had, sloppy, carefree.
I wasn’t a good girl. I didn’t follow the rules. And my life was less than memorable. I lived like today was my last, because for all I knew it would be. It could be.
I came to this club when I couldn’t stand the box that was my life, the one that was sealed tight, no airholes, no light getting through the crack. I got wasted, danced until my body was covered with sweat, my muscles sore, and some poor, hard-up frat guy got off in his jeans by grinding against my leg. I was a wreck in many ways, and I had no doubt that people assumed I was slutty by the way I dressed, by the way I moved on the dance floor.
But how I dressed and acted didn’t make up who I was: a virgin who was lost, who had no one, nothing. I was an inexperienced woman who came here and danced because I wanted a little bit of release…the only kind I ever got. How I felt here was like being consumed by the water, of being helpless but weightless, of being sucked down to the very bottom where no light was permitted.
I wasn’t light. I was darkness wrapped up in a five-foot-five frame, with dark hair, a wild streak, and no one to stop me.
Maybe I was a contradiction to myself, a lost girl who didn’t know what she wanted in life. But it’s who I was, how I got through each day.
I embraced it, knowing that maybe my upbringing made me this way, that having an absentee mother, a drunk for a father, and a penchant for getting slapped on occasion by said parents had shaped the woman I now was.
I wasn’t broken, but I was damaged.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with my parents or what I didn’t have growing up: love. Maybe I was just born this way.
Either way I didn’t try and stop it. I didn’t try and change.
“You look good out here dancing, girl.” The feeling of a guy behind me, of his hands on my hips, his hard cock digging into my lower back, had dual sensations moving through me. “You feel good,” he said again, his voice thick, aroused, slurred from the no doubt many drinks he’d consumed. “What’s your name.”
I thought about lying, pretending I was someone else. Instead I said, “Sofia.”
I wanted him to get off, because knowing I had that kind of control, that kind of power, fueled me. But on the other hand I felt disgust, mainly for myself. I felt and smelled his hot, liquor-laced breath along my neck. I shivered, and the way he groaned made me assume he thought it meant I was into this.
I wasn’t, but I didn’t stop from grinding on him.
I lifted my hands, closed my eyes, and just thought about something else. I wasn’t here, wasn’t trying to get this guy to come in his pants. I was far away, so distant that nothing could touch me. I was the one who had control, and that control made me feel free, alive.
“Come home with me. Hell, let’s go back to my car.”
“Come home with me. Hell, let’s go back to my car.”
I shook my head. He needed to shut up.
“Come on, girl.” He ground his dick against me again. He felt small, even though he was hard.
“No. Either shut up and dance with me, or go find someone willing to go home with you.” I didn’t even know if he heard me over the rush of the music, but if he said one more word, I’d just go get a drink.
He tightened his hold on my hips, digging his small dick into my back. “I bet you’re wet for me right now, aren’t you?” His breath was hot, humid. It was acidic and I gagged.
I was bone-dry, not even the teasing of arousal playing over me. I never felt anything when I danced with these guys. It was what made me feel free, made me feel powerful in an otherwise unstable world. I might not have any kind of control with my personal life, with my finances, with anything that could ground me, but at this club, where the drinks flowed, the sex was potent, and my power was immense…I was the one in charge.
I’d been called a dick tease, a bitch, whore, a cunt…any and all of the above. None of that mattered. They were verbal bullets, and in this club I wore my bulletproof vest.
I pushed away from the guy and made my way to the bar. He was either cursing me out or had hopefully moved on to someone more receptive to what he was actually after. But when I got to the bar, the people crammed together, shouting, lifting their hands to get one of the three bartenders to come their way. I decided tonight was done. I’d hit the bathroom, then call a cab.
Pushing my way through the throng of bodies, the air stale, humid, the heat suffocating, I said a silent prayer that the line to use the bathroom wasn’t up the ass. But there were still a few girls ahead of me. I leaned on the wall, resting my head back against it, and stared up. I noticed the video camera aimed right at me. There were several in this hallway, two in the back, one pointing at me, and another aimed at the dance floor.
I had no doubt there were a dozen more at other locations. Although this place was wild on most nights, it also had a reputation for being safe—well, as safe as a nightclub could be. It had just been renovated by the new owner over the last year, a man I’d heard rumors about, and one I never wanted to meet.
Dark and dangerous. Violent and psychotic. He’s not a person you want to meet in a dark alley. He’d just as soon slit your throat for looking at him the wrong way.
Rumors, of course, but it was those words, whispered by everyone and anyone, that told me there had to be a little bit of truth behind them.
I feel sorry for anyone who pisses off Cameron Ashton, because he’ll solve that problem with a shovel and a six-foot-deep hole.
Pushing off the wall when it was my turn inside, I used the facility, went over to the sink to wash my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl who stared back looked sad, and not in an emotional way. My reflection showed a hot mess. My eyeliner was starting to smear under my eyes, pieces of my dark hair stuck to my temples, and the lipstick I had on, once red and vibrant, now looked dead and colorless.
I finished in the restroom, pushed my way through the crowd, and finally opened the door that led outside. The cool night air washed over me, and I involuntarily closed my eyes, moaning softly. It felt good out here, the crush of bodies and heat a distant memory the longer I stood here.
The alcohol that had once numbed me, clouding my head with the nothingness, started to clear. Maybe I hadn’t been as drunk as I’d thought. Being behind those doors was like another world. The lights, music, the people trying to get off any way they could, brought you down low to a depraved, sticky and disgusting level. It’s what I loved.
I needed to get home now, had work in the morning, had to get back to my shitty life. I fished my cell out of the miniscule handbag I carried with me, dialed the cab service I had memorized, and told them the address. Coming here for the last year should have had them knowing me by name. As I waited for them to arrive, ten long fucking minutes, I moved away from the front doors and leaned against the wall off to the side.
I glanced up, the streetlight close by bright but not quite reaching me fully. Looking to my left, I noticed another security camera, this one pointed at the front doors. Never let it be said this place didn’t have their shit together.
The sound of a lighter going off to my right had me glancing over. I saw the flare of the flame, smelled the scent of the cigarette as its owner inhaled and then exhaled.
I exhaled. God, of course the guy from inside, the one with the small dick and the need for me to go home with him, would be out here. I didn’t bother replying, didn’t want to engage. Instead I turned my head in the other direction and glanced at a few people across the parking lot smoking. I felt the lightest touch on my arm.
I glanced to my right, and before I knew what was happening, that light touch from the asshole turned into him pulling me farther into the shadowy side street.
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🔥🔥🔥 SYNOPSIS 🔥🔥🔥
It wasn’t until Cameron that I knew what real darkness was…or that I’d crave it so much.
I’ve let the world weigh down on me; pull me under until nothing makes sense anymore. Maybe that’s how I let myself get into the mess I’m currently in? Maybe that’s how I’m in my current situation with a man I knew could save me from a fate worse than death. Even if being with Cameron, giving him the very part of me, the only part that’s worth anything—my body—might very well ruin me, I have to survive.
Drug lord. Crime Boss. Murderer. I should fear him, be horrified by what he wants from me, by who he is. But instead, I find myself wanting to please him, wanting to give myself over completely.
Because I know that gives me control over him.
Cameron Ashton reins over the gritty underworld, the danger and violence of depravity, from his throne. A pistol is his sword, and apathy is his second-in-command. I know he’s dangerous, know he’ll break me and not think twice. But he’s my only chance, the only way I’ll survive.
He’s possessive and controlling. And he does own me, every part of me. The darkness in him runs stronger, deeper than it ever had in me. Maybe we’re not so different? Maybe giving up my control to Cameron, giving him my very soul, makes me the powerful one?
Maybe, in the end, I’ll be the one who owns him.
Warning: This is a filthy, dark romance. There may be subject matter and triggers that are sensitive to some readers. In the end, this IS a romance, albeit a twisted one. If you’re looking for a story that gives you the warm and fuzzies, this is not the book for you.
American Prince, the highly-anticipated follow up to American Queen by Sierra Simone is available now!!
American Prince by Sierra Simone
Publication Date: March 7th, 2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Epic Stars!
American Prince is the second book in the American Queen Trilogy. It continues the story of Ash, Embry and Greer, but this time giving us insight and backstory of Ash and Embry’s meeting and history together.
“Colchester had wrinkled up that sweet forehead. “Why would I write a memoir?”
“For when you run for President. You can’t be a President without a book first.” And those wrinkles would get deeper, and he’d look so puzzled and handsome at my joke that my ribs would fracture from the pressure of it. And then to make that fracturing stop, I’d change the subject and say, “Bet you miss those nights in Prague.”
The American Queen Trilogy is such an amazing and epic story of war and politics, of love and heartbreak, of lies and scheming. There are so many twists and surprises in American Prince. It is heart-wrenchingly beautiful, but also Hot with a capital H!!
“And it’s bullshit that a tear and look could have just as much weight as a bullet in my shoulder, as a burning village, as the bodies of the men I’d vowed to protect in those godforsaken mountains.”
I got lost in this story but even more lost in the gorgeous words and imagery created on each page. Whenever I had to put my ereader down, I would have to shake myself and come back down to earth from wherever the pages had taken me!
“I’m done running from you,” I said honestly. “I tried and it didn’t matter—you haunted me everywhere I went.”
“And you haunted me,” he murmured, rolling over to press his lips against mine once more. “My little prince.”
And so the next act in our tragedy began.”
I’ve been many things.
I’ve been a son and a stepbrother. An Army captain and a Vice President.
But only with Him am I a prince. His little prince.
Only with Maxen and Greer does my world make sense, only between them can I find peace from the demons that haunt me. But men like me aren’t made to be happy. We don’t deserve it. And I should have known a love as sharp as ours could cut both ways.
My name is Embry Moore and I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States…for now.
This is the story of an American Prince.
In an instant, he was on me, straddling my thighs, one hand yanking my head back so I had to look up into his face. “Don’t play games with me,” Ash warned in a low voice. “Not tonight. Not after what you did. You don’t even want to know the things I’m thinking about right now.”
I could barely breathe. Pain sang out from my shoulder and hunger sang out from my thickening cock. I was at the mercy of a monster—in the hands of an angry god, as they say—and I’d never felt more alive. It was like kissing his boot, like that first moment I’d been shot at in the trees—the whole world came to life, the forest thrumming and the leaves rustling and my blood and heart all part of this incredible symphony of magic and music that was playing all the time, if only I had the ears to listen. Being with Ash was like my battle high, the fragility of life so apparent, the thrill of surviving it so exhilarating. Surviving him.
“Take it,” I said, my fantasies from all those years ago coming back and making me stir underneath him.
“What?” he asked quietly.
“Take what you’re owed. Take what you deserve for saving my life.”
His lips parted, his eyes hooded, and he pulled my head back even more, exposing my throat. “And what exactly do you owe me?” he asked. “What exactly do I deserve?”
I met his eyes, which were almost black in the dark. “Whatever you want.”
“What I want will have you flat on the ground with tears in your eyes. You think you want to give that to me?”
“No.” I swallowed. “I want you to take it from me.”
He went still.
“Let me thank you,” I begged. “Let me make you feel better. Use me. Use me how you need.”
“Oh, that’s what you want, is it?” he breathed. He leaned in, his thighs on my throbbing erection, and I felt his own, an iron bulge pressing into my stomach. It was massive. He’d tear me apart with it. “You won’t let me have you any other time, not with kisses or love letters, but when you’re bleeding and I’m furious, that’s when you’ll open yourself to me? That’s when I get to have this?”
How could I make him understand? That it had to be like this? That I had to be conquered, not wooed?
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