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What’s your favorite book to revisit?

What’s your favorite book to revisit?

What is the one book that you can re-read a thousand times and always find something new? Do you have a staple book that you can read for inspiration or comfort?

Let us know!

If you’re headed on vacation or RWA this week, what’s in your e-reader?

Happy Book Birthday Morgan

Happy Book Birthday Morgan

Exerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

The steady drumbeat of rain pounded the roof, followed by a rumble of thunder, and roused Nautionnier Knight Morgan Le Aguillon from blissful slumber and an ale-induced stupor, as he stretched long and yawned. As he ordered his thoughts, after a night of drinking and wenching, his favorite pursuits, he grazed warm flesh with his toes and smiled. To his right, a supple female form posed a delicious temptation. To his left, another enticing whore snored none too elegantly, and he sat upright.
Naked, a condition he preferred to the heavy garb of his station, he rubbed his eyes, slid from the bed, belched, and scratched his bare arse. At the basin, he poured water from the pitcher, washed his face, and cleaned his teeth. After running his fingers through his hair, he collected his garb from the floor.
As he stepped into his breeches, he noticed a sliver of light filtering through a hole in the linen that covered the window, and he stepped toward the wall, peered outside—and started.
“No.”
In a strange dance, he sprang into action, yanking on his black chausses, slipping his feet into his boots, and pulling on his doublet. At last, he donned his tunic and grabbed his cloak. From a small bag, he drew a fistful of coins, tossed them atop a table, and made his exit.
On the street, he glanced at the grey sky, realized he was very late, and cursed. “Arucard is going to kill me.”
After locating his destrier, he leaped into the saddle. Flicking the reins, he heeled the flanks of his stallion and sped through the narrow thoroughfares of London, as he had not a moment to spare.
Given the amount of activity in the various businesses, as well as the number of people out and about, Morgan urged his mount faster, until the painfully familiar shadow of Westminster Abbey loomed in the distance. It was then he slowed his horse and continued at his leisure, because he was in no rush to meet his fate.
A Nautionnier Knight in service to the Crown, he had been born into a noble family with valuable connections to the House of Capet, but with equally slim coffers, in the crowded town of Rouen, on the River Seine. At the age of eight, he had been sent to La Rochelle, along with a slew of other second sons, for whom their families had no use and could ill afford, and commenced his training as a Templar, the warriors of the Crusades, at Vauclair Castle.
That was where he forged an alliance with his lifelong friends—his brothers.
After Philip the Fair was denied entry into the estimable Order, he conspired with Pope Clement V to steal the vast treasure the knights had amassed, accused the Templars of heresy, as well as a slew of other foul crimes, hunted, tortured, and executed the great men. Naught in Morgan’s world had been the same, since he fled France and sought refuge in England.
And that was what brought him to Westminster Abbey, on that dark and dreary morning.
At the east entrance, in the midst of a slew of coaches and horses, he drew rein and jumped to the ground. In a series of quick strides, he navigated the cloister walk, which brought him to a double-door entry topped by a Portland stone tympanum.
On the left lingered the other four knights that made up the Brethren of the Coast, along with three wives, and it was another marriage that brought him to the Chapter House steps.
“Reprehensible silk-snatcher, you are late for your own wedding.” Ever the venerable leader, Arucard scowled and folded his arms. “His Majesty was just about to dispatch a compliment of soldiers to hunt you down and drag you hither—after he installed us in the tower.

Want more? You know you do….one-click for your copy here:Morgan (Brethren Origins Book 4)

Author Info:

13563260_1784160338494159_1971736373_nBestselling author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller. A Texan, through and through, Barbara hasn’t been without a book in her possession since she was in kindergarten. She wrote her first short story, a really cheesy murder-mystery, in high school, but it was a Christmas gift, a lovely little diary with a bronze lock, given to her in the fifth grade that truly inspired her love of writing.

After completing part of her undergraduate studies at the University of London, where she developed a love of all things British, Barbara returned home and began a career in banking. But the late 80s weren’t too promising for the financial industry, and every bank that hired Barbara soon folded. So she searched for a stable occupation, and the local police department offered the answer to her prayers.

Initially, Barbara wasn’t too sure about her new career in law enforcement, but she soon came to love being a police officer. And then one uncharacteristically cold and icy day in December 1998, Barbara was struck by a car and pinned against a guardrail while working an accident on a major highway. Permanently disabled, she retired from the police department and devoted her time and energy to physical therapy.

Once Barbara got back on her feet, she focused on a new career in academia. She earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time, featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.

It’s a Spicy Latte Birthday from Brazen

Happy Book Birthday to the following books from Brazen. You can get your copies here and spice up your week!

Bonding Games (Tropical Temptation)

Casual Affair (Slow Seductions)

Chance Seduction (The Seduction Series)

One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

A Little Tease for you….

Excerpt:

“You wanted to give this a try. This, us, thing.”

“I do.” He scrubbed a hand over the bristle of his chin and she fought back the urge to drool. Why did he have to look like a damn Brawny advertisement during their serious discussion?

She joined him on the couch. “Okay. Let’s do it. I’ve made a list of terms and conditions–”

“No terms, no conditions.” His mouth was a hard line of determination.

He slid closer–so that her knee grazed the firm muscle of his leg. Even that slight touch sent an electric spark surging between her thighs. He had her. It was over.

A one hit K. O.

“Then what–”

“You’ll belong to me–”

Belong seems a little caveman-ish–”

“We’re together. That’s it.” He cupped his strong hand around her nape and every ounce of air in her body was gone. There was only him, the mintiness of his breath, and the scorching heat of his firm lips as he kissed her.

She responded to him without thinking, deepening the touch until she lost herself in the swirl of his tongue, the taste of his mouth.

When he pulled away, the room was spinning, moving in slow motion circles and all she could see was the handsome face in front of her. If this was the hard sell, then she’d fallen for it.

Hook, line, and sucker.

About the author:

Allison Gatta is an avid writer of steamy contemporary romance, an obsessive viewer of bad television, and an occasional player of overly-complex board games. In her free time, she thinks up fun, new characters and argues with her family over sci-fi trivia. She is a firm believer that Voldemort would vanquish Darth Vader in a duel.

Allison lives in the bustling city of New Haven, CT with her husband and their scrappy pup, Sophie. She is fueled by coffee and feedback, so feel free to get to know Allison though twitter (@Allison_Gatta), Facebook (Allison Gatta), or her website www.AllisonGatta.com.

Connect:

Author Twitter: @Allison_Gatta
Author Facebook: facebook.com/AllisonGattaAuthor
Author Street Team/Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/440704546277114/
Author Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/Allison_Gatta/boards/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/12541389.Allison_Gatta
Newsletter: https://www.allisongattaromance.com/newsletter

Excerpt:

Lexi wasn’t sure what woke her. Her eyes blinked open. For a few seconds, she couldn’t work out where she was. The room was pitch black, the bed hard and unfamiliar, and a woodsy scent permeated the air. A cicada chirped outside and a frog croaked. She forced herself awake, waited for the fog to lift, and then she remembered.

She was with Adam, in his cabin. In his bed, where they’d made love long into the night.

So what had woken her?

A muffled sound like a soft cough echoed through the house. She rolled over and reached for Adam. He wasn’t there.

The sound grew louder. A painful, drawn-in breath followed by a moan had her sitting bolt upright. Then came the sobbing, like cries wrenched from a tortured soul.

She threw off the covers and slipped out of bed. Holding her hands in front of her, she made her way through the inky blackness. The tormented cries guided her down the passage and into the lounge.

It wasn’t quite so dark in there—the moon shone through the open windows, bathing the room in pale light. Adam lay on his back on the couch. One hand was raised above his head, the other arm flung out over the edge of the cushion. Tears fell uninterrupted down his cheeks, and his face was contorted in an agonized mask. Harsh, barking sobs jarred the stillness around him.

Lexi’s stomach clenched. Tears filled her own eyes. She watched helplessly as once again, Adam endured his unspeakable grief alone.

“Adam?” she whispered but received no response. She edged nearer, crouched before him on the carpet. “Riley?” He didn’t move. She peered closely at him and realized with a start that he was asleep. “Oh, Adam,” she breathed, her heart close to breaking. She took his hand, cradled it in hers and let him cry. Her own tears spilled over, and she wiped at her cheeks.

Time passed, how much Lexi wasn’t sure. Slowly, the distressed sobbing subsided. His cries became more subdued then turned into soft and steady weeping.

Careful not to wake him, she retrieved a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and used it to blot his tears. The knot in her stomach eased as his weeping gradually diminished, leaving only the ragged breaths that rattled his body.

About the author:

An avid romance reader since her early teens, Jess knew one day, when she grew up, she’d have to write her own love stories. And she did. Although the first one was pretty awful.

But once she discovered it was okay to leave the bedroom door open in her romance novels, she decided to leave everything open. Buttons, zips, pants, number of lovers… Which is why her books are all steamy erotic romances.

Jess’s first published story was originally contracted in 2005. Since then, she’s completed over 30 books, and is finally doing the work she loves most— writing romance.

While Jess lived most of her life in South Africa, the last fourteen years have been spent in Australia. From the fast-paced Sydney lifestyle to the laid-back islands and beaches, there’s always another gorgeous Aussie setting for a contemporary romance.

Connect:

Author Twitter: @jessdeewriter

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/jess.dee.921

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jessdeewriter/

Excerpt:

She waited for just the right moment, pushing to her feet when she saw her opening. She was zoned in on her target, gun lifting in his direction—and was suddenly flying through the air.

“Hey!”

Somebody had hold of her and they were going down. She braced herself for impact with the hard ground, but landed on a firm chest instead. A chest that smelled suspiciously like…Zane Price.

She was rolled off his body and found herself staring up at his face. He looked kind of angry. Huh. She wasn’t expecting that. She could feel his package grinding against her pelvis, so she certainly wasn’t mad about anything. A package that was quickly hardening, by the way.

“Did you just tackle me?” she asked in bewilderment.

She saw him swallow as his eyes flew over her face. “I believe I did, yes.”

Their position on the ground was far too sexual—not that she was doing anything about it. His upper body was hovering over hers so as not to crush her, but their lower bodies were in close contact.

Very close contact.

She cleared her throat. “Why?”

“Because you were about to become a casualty,” he whispered. “I saved your life.”

“My hero.” She’d meant it to sound sarcastic. But her voice came out a lot huskier than she’d intended.

He noticed.

His eyes darkened in response.

Everything below her belly clenched with need, a reaction that his own body mirrored. She felt him grow thick against her thigh, and though he didn’t say anything, she knew they were both aware of what was happening south of the border.

“And you’re still on top of me, why?”

“Because part of me is quite comfortable here,” he admitted. “And a different part of me is about to be in a world of pain once I move. I’m trying to decide which part I should listen to.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

He gave a small thrust of his hips against her, making her gasp. One quick grind that allowed her to feel the full extent of his manhood in all of its stiff glory.

She was a goner.

His eyelids lowered to half-mast as he took in her reaction. “Do you want a say in this?”

About the author:

Melanie grew up in a small town in rural Missouri. After marrying her husband, she decided she wanted to try coastal life. A few months later, they moved to North Carolina where she discovered her passion for writing, and they never looked back.

Melanie’s other passion is traveling and seeing the world. With anthropology degrees under their belts, she and her husband have made it their goal in life to see as many archaeological sites around the world as possible.

She has a horrible food addiction to pasta and candy (not together…ew). And she gets sad when her wine rack is empty.

At the end of the day, she is a true romantic at heart. She loves writing the cheesy and corny of romantic comedies, and the sassy and sexy of suspenses. She aims to make her readers swoon, laugh out loud, maybe sweat a little, and above all, fall in love.

Connect:

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/melanie_munton
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/melaniemuntonauthor/
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authormelaniemunton/
Author Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/melaniemunton/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13976464.Melanie_Munton
Newsletter: https://www.melaniemunton.com

An adventure with one turn of a page

An adventure with one turn of a page

Dear Readers,

I have so many delicious books to read and I can’t wait to share them with you.

What amazing books have you read? Are any a RITA nominated book?

If you’re headed to Orlando for RWA have a wonderful week of exploration, learning and fun! I can’t wait to hear about what you discovered.

Stay cool, keep those e-readers full and read, read, read!

Rae

Fast Forward Sizzles

Fast Forward Sizzles

Fast Forward: An Alt Er Love Novella by [Axelrod, Xio]Fast Forward by Xio Axelrod sizzles in this emotionally explosive story of two men who will discover that despite the obstacles they face, fate has already begun its plans for them.

Xio has crafted a smokin’ hot novella about redemption, acceptance, and the ability to let everything go in order to fully find love. Could you do that?

Jessen Sorensen is a rock star and has caught the attention of a very naive Ian Waters. One man knows exactly who and what he desires while the other, still searching and exploring, is unsure.

The chemistry is seriously hot, the story is tender and intertwined with an emotional passion that leaves you completely satisfied with the payout. Well done Xio.

If you could never get over the one that got away, find out if time was enough to bring these two together.

This spicy latte read is four peppers hot for full on, no holds barred sensuality and situations. It’s for mature readers 18+.4 Jalepenos

Get your copy here:Fast Forward: An Alt Er Love Novella

Excerpt

“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a nightcap, or whatever?”
Ian arched his brows. “I wasn’t, actually. No.”
“Ouch.” Jessen flattened his hand over his heart as if mortally wounded. “I’m surprised by how
rude you’ve become, Ian.”
Before he could react, Jessen slipped the keys out of Ian’s hand and jogged up to the door. He
chose the right key on his first try, because of course he did, and strolled into Ian’s home like he
belonged there.
Which he most certainly did not.
This was so f*&!ed up, but Ian followed him inside and flicked on the lights.
Jessen whistled. “F&*k, Ian. This is beautiful!”
And it was. Ian had painted the walls of the main living space in Wedgewood blue, true to the
period in which the house was built, and it set off the pristine, white wainscoting beautifully.
A large bay window let in plenty of light during the day and provided a comfortable reading
spot at night. Oversized furniture in cream twill made up the bulk of the seating.
He’d transformed the formal dining room into a makeshift A-V suite, which housed his iMac and
his Mac Pro, plus his other editing equipment. Unconventional, but it suited him.
“This is really nice, Ian,” Jessen murmured, turning to him. “I’m really happy for you.”
There was awe in his voice and reverence.
Ian suppressed the wave of pride that swept over him. Jessen was the only person he’d told
about his tumultuous childhood, his deadbeat father, and disturbed mother. He was the only
person he’d told about his dream of owning a beautiful home and planting roots in a
community.
Most people never asked about the family of a prodigy, as long as the prodigy kept producing.
Siv knew a bit about his wrecked childhood, but only Jessen knew it all. Every dark and dirty
detail.
Ian had told Jessen everything one night, overwhelmed by the emotions spilling over him after
their first time having sex. Making love. They’d done a lot before then, just about everything,
but it wasn’t until that night that they’d gone all the way.
Ian had given Jessen his all, every little bit of himself. Had spilled his heart and soul to the man
who had cracked open his hard shell for the first time in his life.
And then he had woken up one morning to an empty space in the bed next to him, and a note
on the floor.
I’m sorry.
He still had the note.
Those two words had splintered Ian into a million indiscernible pieces. Pieces he was still trying
to fit back together.
And there stood Jessen Sørensen, in his fucking dining room, glowing like he kept his own
personal sun somewhere behind his rib cage.
“Do you have any coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Could I possibly get a cup?” A smile danced at the edges of his sinful mouth.
“No.”
Jessen laughed. “Please?”
“There’s a Char-bucks on the corner if you want coffee. I am not making you coffee, Jess.”
“Aww,” he pouted prettily. “Why not?”
Why not.
Why not.
“Why not?”
“Yeah.” Jessen was grinning. No, he was smirking.
The bubbling volcano in Ian’s belly erupted.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
The blonde’s eyes widened and the smirk melted away. “I…”
“Seven years, Jess. Seven. F%&king. Years. You walked out of my life in the middle of the
goddamned night, no goodbye, nothing. Just ‘I’m sorry’ scratched on a piece of brown paper
bag.”
“I know, and I…”
“Shut the f*&k up.”
To his credit, Jessen did shut the f#@k up.
To his credit, Ian wasn’t screaming. Yet.
He turned on his heel and stalked into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch. It was
big and plush and the first piece of furniture he’d purchased for the house.
His house.
His.
He felt like his safe haven had been invaded by the enemy from his heartbroken past.
Ian’s chest heaved. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he’d bottled up and walledoff.
And Jessen was right there. Right there.
The other man entered the room slowly, carefully. He sat on the coffee table across from Ian.
No one sat on the coffee table. It was an antique that had come with the house and Ian was
proud of it. But he didn’t give a s%^t right then. Fuck the goddamn coffee table and the man
sitting on it in his five-hundred-dollar skinny jeans.
He wanted Jessen gone, and yet he was terrified to let him go.
“What do you want me to do?”
Ian blinked up at him, confused by this all-too-sober sounding Jessen. “What do you mean?”
“If you want me to leave, I will leave. Right now, just say the word. If you want me to give you
some time, I will.” His gaze softened. “If…if you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”
“What if I wanted you to leave Philly and never come back?” Ian eyed him carefully. “Would
you do that?”
Jessen looked pained, but he nodded. “Eventually.”
“What if I wanted you to go back in time and fix what you broke, could you?”
“God, I wish.” He’d choked out the words.
Ian frowned. Studying Jessen, he noticed a slight hunch in his shoulders. There were dark circles
under his eyes. He seemed smaller, dimmer. It was confusing, conflicting with the mental image
he’d always carried.
“Why are you here?”
Jessen exhaled and rested his elbows on his knees. He knit his fingers together and faced Ian,
his expression more serious than Ian had ever seen.
“I owe you an apology.”
Ian snorted, he couldn’t help it.
Jessen’s smile was slight. “I know, seven years too late, but…I hope…I was hoping…”
“What? Thought you’d pop back up, bat those pretty eyes of yours, and I’d bend over for you?”
“You still think my eyes are pretty?”
“That’s what you focus on?”
At least he had the grace to look contrite. “Sorry.”
“Are you?”
Jessen’s expression morphed into a mask of regret. “Yes, God. Yes. You have no idea how sorry I
am. I ran away, Ian. I ran away from you, and I’ll never forgive myself. Even if you somehow find
a way to forgive me, I’ll never forgive myself. I hurt you.”
“You hurt me?”
“I know I did.”
“No, Jess. You don’t know s#%t. You didn’t just hurt me, you broke me. You fucked up an already
fucked-up kid.” Ian ran a rough hand through his overgrown hair. “I could barely function after
you disappeared. I missed classes, had to postpone my exams, I was a total wreck when you
fucked off and out of my life.”
Ian was shaking, his jaw trembling so hard his teeth chattered. And he was pissed because it
shouldn’t affect him this much anymore, not so many years after the fact. He was beyond this
pain.
“F&*k, Ian…I’m so…” Jessen reached out as if he were going to touch him and Ian pressed
himself back into the cushions.
He could not let that happen.
“I’m so sorry. God, that sounds lame. Even to me.”
“Because it is lame. Sorry? Sorry was seven years ago. Six, maybe. I’d even give you five. But
now?”
Jessen nodded. His gaze flicked toward the door, and Ian panicked.
The thought of letting him walk out in the middle of this long overdue conversation was almost
paralyzing.
“Don’t go.”
Jessen’s gaze snapped back to his. “What? No, I…”
“You were thinking of leaving.”
He nodded. “Yes, but only to give you some space. I had no idea I’d cause…I didn’t think
you’d…”
“You thought I was over you.”
Jessen’s jaw hung open, his eyes wide. For the first time since he’d first met him, Ian saw fear in
Jessen’s eyes.
“Are you?”
Ian wanted to pretend. Wished he could. He wanted to lie, but even after so long he knew it
was pointless. He was an open wound where Jessen Sørensen was concerned. He could never
hide the bleeding from him.
“No, Jess. That’s the problem. I’ll never be over you.”

Author Bio:

Xio Axelrod is a USA Today Bestselling author of love stories, contemporary romance and (what she likes to call)
strange, twisted tales. She also writes erotica as Xio Nin.

Xio grew up in the music industry and began recording at a young age. When she isn’t writing stories, she can be found in the studio, writing songs, or performing on international stages (under a different, not-so-secret name of course). She lives in Philadelphia with one full-time husband and one part-time cat.

Author Links:

Website: https://www.xioaxelrod.com/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Xio-Axelrod/e/B00JCFOOHY
Email Signup: https://eepurl.com/SunFL
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/XioAxelrod
Twitter: https://twitter.com/xioaxelrod
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/xioaxelrod
Instagram: https://https://instagram.com/xioaxelrod/