Sizzling Scoop - June

Contents: 5... True Criminal Inspiration by Sarah Castille 8... First Chapter Preview: Heating Up Hawaii by Carmen Falcon 22... Editors Corner: Confusion Reigns by Shanon Grey 24… Short Story: Up in Flames by Tory Richards 32… First Chapter Preview: A Summers Journey by Kathleen Ann Gallagher 38… Writing Paranormal with Rebecca Royce: World Building 39… First Chapter Preview: Only Scandal Will Do by Jenna Jaxon 45… Spotlight: Love at High Tide by Christi Barth 47… Spotlight: Kidnapped Hearts by Cait Jarrod 48… First Chapter Preview: Trusting Again by Peggy Bird 56… What’s What with Tory Richards 59… First Chapter Preview: Bella Key by Scarlet Chastian 66… Spotlight: The Georgia Corbin by Kara Leigh Miller 68… Erotic Reviews 71… Paranormal Romance Reviews 73… Romance Reviews

Publisher: Marissa Dobson Assistant & Interviewer: Heather Powell Editor’s Corner Columnist: Shanon Grey Writing Paranormal: Rebecca Royce Writing a Novel Columnists: Ashley Nemer Material in this publication should not be reproduced in any form without written permission. Sizzling Scoop is open to submissions of articles, short stories, please email them to marissa@sizzllingpr.com

True Criminal Inspiration

by Sarah Castille What is your favorite beach read?

For my mother, it has always been true crime. Every summer she stocks up on all the new releases and then shares the gory details of her latest read at family barbeques. But what intrigues her most is not the actual crime, but how the criminals are caught—the clues they leave behind, the reasons behind their actions, and how the police put the pieces together. A bad guy in jail is her happily ever after.

True crime has never been my thing. Give me a romance or thriller any day. But sometimes things rub off on us when we are least expecting it.

When I sat down to write Legal Heat, I wanted to write a romance. After all, as a lawyer for many years, I have seen legal romances of all shapes and sizes, from the forbidden to the hidden and everything in between. I have seen relationships develop into marriages and marriages disintegrate through affairs. I have seen careers destroyed and families built. I have seen scandal and I have seen true love. Law may be black and white but it is tinged with red.

I was halfway through my first draft when I first told my mother about my manuscript.

“How exciting,” she said. “What’s it about?”

“Well...it started out as a romance,” I answered. “But along the way I threw in a little murder, intrigue, knives and guns, coroners and bodies, hot cops, corrupt companies and a mystery to solve.”

My mother laughed. “Sounds like something I’m reading.”

Realization hit me hard. All those years when I thought I was tuning out her descriptions of clever criminals and ingenious police detectives with a nod and the occasional ‘uh huh’, part of me had been listening. Not just listening...absorbing. The world of true crime had entered my subconscious.

“You’ve tainted me,” I told her as she tossed another steak on the grill.

“I’ve inspired you,” she shot back. “After all these years listening to my stories, you should be able to construct the perfect crime. I certainly could.”

Hmmm. Maybe not information to share with the rest of the family.

“So what is the essential ingredient?” I pressed. “What is the key to the perfect crime?” No point dipping a toe in the water. By this point in my manuscript, the bodies were already piling up and I needed a way to connect them.

“Randomness,” she said. “It has to be totally random. If it isn’t random, you’ll eventually get caught.”

Now what kind of story is that?

When I returned to my manuscript, I tried to construct the perfect random crime. But my villain wouldn’t play ball. He insisted on having a motive. He had to have a motive. And it had to be evil, mean and nasty.

So I gave him one. He is a villain after all. And not one to be denied.

But to even the score, I threw my attorneys a few clues.

Unfortunately, in the beginning, they were distracted. My attorneys were more interested in getting it on under the sheets (or on the judge’s desk, or in the boardroom, the shower...). Even with a wake-up call, it them a long time to put the pieces together.

Almost as long as me.

But don’t worry. It’s a romance, after all. Every still gets a happily ever after...well, almost every one.

This summer I’ve stocked my Kindle with the usual thrillers and romances. But I’ve also downloaded a couple of true crime novels. Who knows when inspiration might hit?

Maybe this time, I’ll construct the perfect crime.

Katy Sinclair made it to the brink of partnership at her high-powered law firm with hard work, dogged determination, and the ruthless self-discipline to cultivate a conservative public image. But when she follows an evasive witness into a sex club, she can’t deny herself a red-hot sexual encounter with the seductive bartender who sets her body on fire. She’s sure no one will ever know about her indiscretion— until she walks into the courtroom to find her dirty little secret is the opposing counsel in the most important case of her career.

As the managing partner in a struggling law firm, hot-shot attorney Mark Richards can’t afford any mistakes that might cost him his biggest client.

Like getting involved with his beautiful, determined opponent—the mystery woman he hasn’t been able to forget. But when Katy’s quest for justice leads to death threats, Mark will sacrifice everything to protect her.

Now they’re risking their hearts…and their lives…in a race to catch a killer. Little do they know, the greatest danger lies closer to home.

Warning: This book contains explicit sex, light bondage, violence, murder, steamy shenanigans in the courtroom, naughty sexytimes in the boardroom, and an exceptionally hot hero with a versatile tie. Any objections will be overruled.

Heating Up Hawaii by Carmen Falcon There is just one person standing between Penny Ashbrook’s dream of opening her own PR business or being stuck at her job–the formidable Luc Leoni–her first lover, and the man who lets nothing and no-one get in his way. Seeing him after so long brings all the hidden emotions after a life altering break-up to surface. Pain, denial and…lust.

Luc has made many sacrifices for his career, including Penny Ashbrook, the woman who set his aspirations back a year, but now she has returned and is more alluring than ever. After all these years, he thought a self-made billionaire as himself could master everything, but to resist the strong pull toward the one woman he can't have is an impossible task.

When this unlikely pair is reunited they will have to face the many challenges set in their way, especially an attraction that has only heightened with time and a deadline quickly approaching.

Can their new bond surpass old—and new—fears?

Chapter One Only a few more months. Penny Ashbrook pressed her folded arms on the metal rail of the rooftop bar. She looked at the pallet of orange, yellow, and pink colors dipping into the background as the sun set behind the Dallas skyline. A few more months, and she'd be debt free–and not just monetarily.

Although each day would stretch into the length of a decade, she knew she could handle it.

Hell, hadn't she done just that for the past six months? She'd kept her head high and chin up even though her boss's passive aggressiveness often drove her crazy. She'd pretended not to listen when small-minded coworkers whispered behind her back. At thirty, wasn't she too old to be the talk of the office?

With a sigh, she stood straight and squared her shoulders. The much-awaited networking happy hour was not the place for a therapy session. She glanced around her. A sea of people

occupied the large outdoor area. Elegantly attired men and women sought new contacts and hot leads while munching on caviar hors d’oeuvres and overpriced liquor.

She decided to stare at the blinding sun one more time, in hopes of extracting enough energy to walk around and get moving. After all, her client list wouldn't just materialize in front of her, would it? She'd had to fight hard and strong to get where she wanted to be.

"Penny, I've just run into an old friend of yours," her boss, Charles Dawn, told her while his fingers lightly touched her elbow. He prompted her to turn toward him and the tall, broadshouldered man standing next to him.

Penny flashed her signature smile and squinted to get a sharper view of the man in front of her. An oversized palm tree shadowed him.

She guessed he was at least six feet two, which put her at a disadvantage at only five feet six. His dark gray designer suit looked tailor-made to fit the planes of his large chest, and good God, legs that went on and on.

Old friend? She couldn't remember having friends that looked this intimidating—old, or current. If she was honest with herself, the few friends she had, all vanished like dust after she'd called off her wedding.

But this man… He took a step in her direction, the setting sun illuminating his face as he moved out of the shade. She glanced at him like her eyes were old-fashioned camera lenses, capturing his features in slow motion and adjusting to his figure. His lips, sensual and rich like his clothes, twitched. As soon as her gaze collided with his, her heart skipped a beat for a few seconds only to resume and pound its way out of her beige linen dress.

Luc Leoni.

It couldn't be, could it? To see him again after all these years.

Oh, but it was…

Penny stared into his two-colored eyes—one lighter than a clear blue sky, and the other reminiscent of murky seas. Yes, even they were ambiguous.

"Luc." She cleared her throat, and noticed a couple of fine lines around his mismatched pair.

"Penelope." Luc's velvety voice was like a warm caress. His French accent alone lured women to drop their underwear by his bedside. His deep pronunciation of her name hadn't changed… Pen-ay-looh-paay.

Penny stiffened her back, offered him a professional handshake under Charles Dawn's ambitious grin. Although she wished she could kick Luc Leoni where he deserved, she had to swallow her resentment and go along with it.

Luc took her hand in his larger one, and heat coiled low in her stomach. But instead of a professional handshake, he pulled her closer with a swift movement and leaned down. He kissed her on one cheek, his warm lips brushing gently on her skin. The whisper of a touch between his stubbled chin and her other cheek belted a wire of electricity into her system.

Penny smelled his earthy masculine cologne, where rich woodsy notes blended with a light citrus. Luc Leoni was a fantastic gift wrapping for an unworthy product.

He stepped back.

This can’t be my imagination… The hot breeze ruffled a few lustrous black strands of his hair, warning her that it was all too real.

"What a small world," Charles said. "I did fail to ask where you two know each other from."

Penny tried to swallow her growing apprehension. She must have some really bad karma to face the man who broke her heart, after all those years, in front of Charles: her boss, the father of her former fiancé, and the man who made it hard for her to come to work every day.

"Champagne?" A coiffed waitress offered, her smile widening at Luc, who simply thanked her and shook his head. Penny picked a flute, her fingers tightening around the chilled glass.

"I was an intern at a hotel in New York for a couple of months, and Luc managed that hotel." Penny sipped the sparkling liquid hoping—no—needing to cool her unpleasant ardor.

"How long ago was it, seven, eight years?" Luc scratched his chin as if they discussed a far less important event. She saw an emotion she couldn't—or didn't want to— read in the depths of his eyes.

"Eight years." And two months.

"Oui," Luc said coolly. "You must be married now, with let me guess, two kids? Three?"

"Single." Penny avoided looking at Charles and drank the remaining champagne in one big, clumsy gulp. "No kids."

"Oh." Condescension laced Luc's voice. Clearly he remembered a conversation they'd shared long ago and was using it to embarrass her.

Certainly he didn't have any other motives?

When she noticed the satisfaction in his eyes, Penny's gaze darted to the lime green walls for a moment. Asking about what he had done in those years was futile–she knew all too well.

Those moments when curiosity won the battle against self-preservation and she typed his name in Google, or read a headline about him with a generous pint of cookies-and-cream ice cream beside her. Hell, the last time she'd done that had been only a few days before her doomed wedding day to someone else.

Luc Leoni was in his prime. Mid-thirties, he was the owner and CEO of an exclusive hotel chain. He had properties all around the world and dipped into diverse niches including hotels in dangerous locations, resorts specific for women travelers and for the gay community.

"I told Mr. Leoni what a great asset you are to our company." Charles pulled her from her thoughts, his eyes on her like mold on a dirty shower curtain.

Penny turned her pressed lips into a smile. Something wasn't right. It wasn't like Charles to say nice things about her in public. At least not anymore.

Luc had an unreadable look on his face. His duality went far beyond his eyes. His mother was French, where he supposedly inherited the veneer of cool sophistication that could throw someone off balance. But the intensity that sometimes flashed in his eyes could possibly be from his Italian father, from whom he'd inherited his surname and olive skin. The same intensity he showed in situations far more private.

Luc‌the quiet lion. A lion all right, in name and pride.

"And Mr. Leoni told me he's in the market for a new PR firm," Charles continued with a self-congratulatory look on his face.

"My PR firm is no longer satisfying my needs," Luc said to Charles, but he glared at her.

A shiver zipped down her spine.

Yes, it all made sense… Charles entertained the idea of representing Luc's company. Why didn't she think of it sooner? A big account like Luc's would put their medium-range firm on the map, not to mention all the references they could get.

"I see." Penny nodded, pleased at her nonchalant tone. "We have a lot of experienced consultants at our firm, Luc. I'm sure you will be satisfied." She hoped, if he signed a contract with her firm, that she would never have to deal with him personally.

"I don't know, Penelope. When I heard Charles rave about you, I imagined you would be a bit more eager about acquiring an account," he said with a hint of mockery in his cultured voice, "as big as mine."

As big as his… Penny could feel the flush of crimson spreading across her cheeks. "Luc, I assure you—" "If corporations in the hotel industry are supposed to be your specialty and your lack of initiative is palpable, how does that make your company look, I wonder?"

"How can you say that?" Penny started, blood pounding in her veins. Who the hell did he think he was, to come and try to humiliate her in front of her boss, and then just stand there with that smug look on his poker face? "I will have you know that DG PR & Consultants is a great firm, and you have no right to make assumptions based on a thirty second conversation."

"What Penny is trying to say," Charles said, and the pressure of his fingers on her elbow warned her of what was to come, "is that she is surprised and flattered by your interest. Mr. Leoni, do you mind if I have a word with Penny in private?"

"Not at all." Luc flashed his straight, white teeth and gave her a once-over, leering at her. A hint of a smile formed on his lips, and it was clear he enjoyed the outcome.

Damn Luc Leoni.

He was probably having a nice evil laugh now at her expense, while Charles led her to the indoor area where waitresses went to replenish their trays or close tabs on a sleek computer screen.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked her in a low yet assertive tone. The smile on his lips didn't match the menacing look in his eyes. "Listen to me, Penny Ashbrook–the only reason

I still have you on my payroll is because I promised Darren I wouldn't fire you over what you've done. You damn well deserved to get fired."

Penny breathed in sharply. She was certainly paying a high price for her pride when she'd insisted she pay back the expenses of the doomed wedding day. Maybe going broke would make up for her guilt.

"Mr. Dawn, it's not appropriate to bring this up." Cold sweat broke out on her skin and she wiped it with the back of her hands.

"Fair enough." Charles stepped closer. "I can, though, fire you over losing a big account because of whatever personal views you have of Luc Leoni."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me." Charles's eyes narrowed. "The man needs a new firm, he said so himself."

Penny squared her shoulders. "Mr. Dawn, how did you meet Luc? And how did he know I work for you?"

"I was talking about your work to Harry, my PA, in the men's restroom." He talked smack about me to someone from the firm. No news there.

She didn't expect a warm hug and a blanket from Charles, but at least some basic level professionalism.

Just a little bit more time, she reminded herself. She would finish making the payments, and leave the firm and open her own boutique PR consultant office.

"Mr. Leoni happened to be washing his hands. He heard your name and told me that he was an old friend, and rumor has it, he's in the market for a new PR firm here in Texas as he's expanding his hotel group."

Penny shook her head. "I doubt that he even needs a new PR." "Get over yourself, Penny." Charles interrupted her with an impatient glare. "Mr. Leoni is a world-known hotelier, and he was kind enough to give you a chance. If you don't go out there and secure this account, don't bother coming to work tomorrow morning." Charles smoothed his suit jacket, removing invisible lint from it. "And forget about any references from our firm." ***

Luc stared at the high buildings that reached for the sky among the darkness of the starfree evening. Life worked in mysterious ways.

Who knew he would eavesdrop on a conversation about Penny Ashbrook while washing his hands in his newly acquired hotel? He should have let it go as an odd coincidence. There could be a different Penny Ashbrook from Dallas, not his Penelope. Not the woman who had stolen a year from his success. A year from the life he was supposed to live.

However, he had been unable to take the extra step and reach for the door to exit the restroom, not without knowing for sure.

After he'd learned her occupation from Charles, his heart fluttered. He needed another PR firm badly, and a good one at that. Proposals flooded his PA's email, and he'd been meaning to take a look the past couple of days.

He'd wanted to see Penny, to wave the chance of a lifetime opportunity in front of her, and then take it away. The same way she had done to him.

"Luc." The woman who haunted his thoughts appeared in front of him, standing next to the long swaying fronds of a palm tree. His blood ran hot and thick, just like it had earlier. He wished to ignore the warning his body insisted on shouting at him, but that was a hard task.

A mild breeze swept over her, pushing the smooth strawberry blonde hair from her heart shaped face. Her high cheeks showed a hint of blush around her small straight nose. Luc's eyes dropped to her luscious full lips, covered by bright red lipstick.

A conservative knee-length beige dress and a thick red belt around her waist molded her curves. A man had to be blind not to notice the thin linen fabric tightening against her large breasts, and the indentation of her waist shaped by the belt, which enhanced her perfectly round hips. The surplus of flesh. Not fat, but just enough curves to fool a man into forgetting his tactics.

His eyes trailed past her waist, and he appreciated the delicate calves and the red stiletto shoes.

"You never really considered hiring me," Penny said with an accusatory tone. He put his hand inside his pocket. "I bet you don't even need a new PR firm." Penny folded her arms, her big hazel eyes still unconvinced.

"That's where you are wrong," he answered truthfully. "I'm re-opening a resort in Maui. I had to close it because of a flood a few months ago…when it happened, the former resort manager didn't comply with a couple of safety policies. The authorities found out and bad press followed." He sighed, the damage caused by the torrential rain still vivid in his mind.

"That means you need someone over there." She smiled with determination in her voice.

"Luc, I can be that person. I'm good at crisis management."

Simply say no and go. He noticed a flicker of apprehension in her beautiful eyes, though she tried her best to conceal it with a smile that could fool a less prepared male. A weak male.

Not him.

"Crisis management?" He chuckled. "As in how you stabbed me in the back in the past? As in how you told Allegra about our involvement?" He raised a glass of scotch to his lips.

The wind changed directions and Penny tried to brush some loose strands of silky hair from her face. His palm clasped the round glass. Merde. Why couldn't she look unattractive, out-ofshape, or less beautiful, like he had hoped before seeing her again?

Penny lifted her chin. "Warning Allegra that you were using us both was a public service, not back-stabbing."

"Actions have consequences, ma petite." Luc put his glass down on an empty table, closed his hands into fists, and stared out at the darkness in front of him for a quiet moment, unwilling to think about the long year he had endured because of her. There was no room for emotions where Penny Ashbrook was concerned. None above his waist line, anyway.

He turned to face her again, and she moved her head quickly, like she had been watching him.

"You haven't had it that bad, Luc. You're no saint. I know who you are under this fancy suit." Penny placed both hands on her waist.

"I didn't know your memories of me were still so vivid after seven years." His voice was huskier than he would have liked.

Penny's hands dropped to her sides. "Eight years." She narrowed her eyes. "And you know what I mean. The past is long gone, which doesn't change the fact that I am highly qualified to

represent your chain. I have a busy schedule, but I'm willing to clear it to take over your Hawaii assignment and help you out."

Clear her schedule? The determined look on her face made him laugh, the hearty sound floating up from his throat. "I don't trust you, Penny."

"I don't trust you either, on a personal level. However, professionally, I guarantee that I'll give you one hundred percent." She stepped toward him, close enough that he inhaled the spicy notes of her perfume. Just like the woman herself, it blended stronger notes with much lighter ones. Once he got a lungful of the sweeter scent‌it lingered. "Luc, it's hard for me to admit it, but I really need this assignment, in more ways than one. Plus, I could really use some days out-of-town."

Luc inclined his head, his eyes searching hers.

How could he, in clear conscience, give her an assignment coveted by the largest firms in the country, with more qualified professionals? Professionals with no emotional history with him. Professionals who didn't make his common sense battle a desire which deepened with each passing second. Hadn't he learned anything from the past?

There was no room for reminiscing.

His answer was clear.

He glanced at her, and she arched an eyebrow.

"Give me this one assignment. If you don't like my work, I won't even take a commission and will be out of your hair," she blurted, a trace of anxiety in her voice. Luc cleared his throat.

No. My answer is no. Just say it. The courage to send her away from his life flooded through him. He was about to verbalize it, when he spotted Owen Hays, the hotel's food and beverage director whom he had met earlier, behind her. Although Owen smiled, he displayed a desperate look on his face, much worse than Penny's.

"Mr. Leoni, I apologize for interrupting, but I need to have a word with you."

"Go ahead." Luc ushered him a couple of steps away from Penny, who gave him a sideway glance as if telling him this wasn't over.

"Well, sir, the J-Kees were supposed to play here tonight. There's a big probability that the show will be canceled, and since I knew you were at our bar and expected the press, I thought you should know first," Owen explained.

"Canceled? Why?" Luc glanced at the outdoor stage. The happy hour was coming to an end, and in a bit over an hour the up-and-coming jazz band would start playing, drawing a more mature crowd and also, he was sure, a few bloggers and journalists. He'd been thinking that could be a great moment to start telling the press about his acquisition of this hotel. Free press generated more buzz.

"The members of the band have arrived, but their instruments have not."

"How come?"

Owen frowned. "We aren't sure, we're looking into it. The show is supposed to start in an hour and a half."

"Let's find them other instruments, then. Have you contacted a music store? Have them deliver whatever they need."

"Sir, I've thought of that. These musicians are very particular about what they play and said they won't play until their own instruments arrive. This could take hours. We'd have to cancel the show."

Luc cursed under his breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Where did they fly in from?"

"Their last show was in Austin, last night. We called the airline, but no luck so far."

Frustration leaked into Owen's voice.

Luc had barely taken over the reins of this hotel and problems arose. A concert from the successful band would certainly be great for business. Canceling the show, especially less than two hours from its starting time, would not. Did he really want to announce his buying this property when they couldn't even follow through with a small concert? The band members were in. He glared at the stage, and the maintenance guy giving it a final inspection. Everything was ready to go.

Think, Luc. "I can help." Penny took a step toward them. "I can get their instruments in time."

"I don't believe we have met." Owen offered his hand. "I'm Owen Hays, the food and beverage director."

"I'm Penny Ashbrook." She took his hand with a smile. "Mr. Leoni's new PR consultant."

She stood tall, chin up with pure defiance in her eyes.

Luc shook his head. His new PR consultant?

No. "Owen, will you give us a moment?" Luc demanded, and Owen promptly nodded and got out of the way. He stared at Penny. "I won't be manipulated into hiring you, Penelope."

"Then don't be. This is a business opportunity. I will get your band members their instruments. Their concert will be mentioned in a few blogs tomorrow, not to mention the music section of the newspaper, along with the news that now The Leoni Hotel Group owns this property."

He crossed his arms. "How do you know it's new? That I haven't owned it for a while?"

"Because I knew who the previous hotel group was, and the way that man came to you it left no doubt." She smoothed her dress with her hands, and he knew that following her restless fingers as they trailed across the fabric was crazy. To follow her idea was ludicrous, yet he did the first with no regrets and found himself idly considering the second.

The movement of her impatient fingers drummed against either side of her waist where her hands were now perched.

"How are you going to pull it off?" He knew from having worked with her that she was resourceful, but this was a challenge even for her. At the same time, did he want more bad press, even on a smaller scale, to precede his re-opening in Maui?

A smile quirked up her lips. "That's my problem."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want the Maui assignment."

"Penny, even if you do a good job‌I'm not interested in having you permanently representing my chain." How could he be sure she wouldn't stab him in the back like she had in the past? Perhaps she wanted to do well on the Hawaii assignment, only to screw him after.

Screw. Him. He stared down at her, making a conscious effort not to linger on any body part. He wondered about the softness of her skin. The curve on her neck. Her large breasts. A thrill of excitement ran through him.

"It's okay, I don't want you as a long-term client. All I want is upon the completion of my work, if you love it—which you will—is a list of contacts for companies you can refer me to.

Can't you see it's a win-win?" She chewed on her plump lower lip.

If all she wanted was references, most likely she would do a good job for him. A fantastic job because, well, his standards were high and he didn't intend on making things easier for her.

His Maui resort had a strong emotional tie to him. He wanted it to succeed and re-open the doors more than any other property he had opened in his life. He needed his staff to care about what they did. And if he could be sure of one thing, it was how invested Penny was. He recognized her determination to succeed. And he needed it.

"Go get the damn instruments, Penelope."

Confusion Reigns by Shanon Grey We all trip over word confusion from time to time. We know what we’re thinking, but we put in the wrong word. I blame my fingers when I can. My most embarrassing mistake involved using lathe in place of lave in a sex scene. Ouch.

It is important for us to use the right words and to make sure those words mean what we intend.

Unfortunately, document “checkers” don’t catch them and some editors read right over them. It is your responsibility to know what they are. There are many sites that give good comparisons and definitions. Just Google “confusing words” and pick one. To give you a start, I have listed a few of the more common mistakes writers make. There are a lot more. While proofing, I thought of more than the space allowed. But, this should get you started. Happy Writing!

ACCEPT: to receive; agree to ex: She was determined to accept his proposal.

EXCEPT: to take or leave out ex: She rejected all of the rings except one.

ADVERSE: unfavorable, harmful ex: She had an adverse reaction to the whiskey.

AVERSE: strongly disliking; opposed ex: She was averse to being drunk, not drinking.

AFFECT: v. to influence ex: Anger will affect your decision.

EFFECT: n.: result; v.: to accomplish ex: The effect of the drug was minimized by her abilities. ex: The legacy effects transformation.

ALLUSION: an indirect reference ex: He made an allusion to the legacy.

ILLUSION: a false perception of reality ex: What they believed to be an illusion was real.

ALL READY: prepared ex: They thought they were all ready for her arrival.

ALREADY: by this time

ex: The transformation had already begun by the time she awoke.

ALTOGETHER: entirely ex: She thought their concern was altogether too feigned.

ALL TOGETHER: gathered; with everything in one place ex: They were all together at the funeral.

APART: to be separated ex: Her parents had kept her apart from them and her legacy.

A PART: to be joined with ex: She knew she was destined to become a part of Ruthorford, like it or not.

ASCENT: climb ex: The owl's ascent lessened the loudness of his screech.

ASSENT: agreement ex: She assented to the experiment and hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

BARE: naked; to uncover ex: She was chained to the timber, her bare bottom on the cold ground.

BEAR: to carry; to put up with ex: He will bear the weight of his sins for life.

LAVE: to wash ex: He used his tongue to lave her sensitive skin.

CITE: to quote or document ex: She could cite the letter word for word.

SIGHT: vision ex: The sight of her blood left him numb.

SITE: position or place ex: The cottage was the site of many rituals.

LEAD: noun, a type of metal ex: The metal was simple lead.

LED: verb, past tense of the verb "to lead" ex: She led him away from the cabin.

LIE: to lie down; to tell a falsehood ex: She had to lie down before she passed out.

LAY: to lay an object down. ex: He will lay the stones on the hearth.

COMPLEMENT: n.: something that completes; v.: to complete ex: Teresa served the perfect complement to the steak, a Merlot.

COMPLIMENT: n.: praise; v.: to praise ex: His compliment left her confused.

CONSCIENCE: sense of right and wrong ex: Ian showed a moment of conscience before he bound her.

CONSCIOUS: awake ex: She was conscious when he entered the room.

COUNCIL: a group that consults or advises ex: Ruthorford had its own council, which everyone ignored.

COUNSEL: to advise ex: Even from the grave, her mother counseled her against rashness. (Can be spelled with one “l” or two.)

ELICIT: to draw or bring out ex: The stress elicited a physiological response.

ILLICIT: illegal ex: Ian escaped punishment for his illicit activities.

EMINENT: famous, respected ex: The eminent lawyer served Ruthorford well.

IMMANENT: inherent or intrinsic ex: The sign’s meaning was immanent, yet not easily recognized.

IMMINENT: ready to take place ex: The meeting of Dorian and Morgan was imminent, not to be delayed.

ITS: of or belonging to it ex: The room’s stones glowed, a result of its harmonics.

IT'S: contraction for it is ex: It's a beautiful day in Ruthorford.

LATHE: a woodworking tool ex: He used the lathe to finish the project.

PRECEDE: to come before ex: A hum precedes the opening of the portal.

PROCEED: to go forward ex: He proceeded to pass through the fissure.

PRINCIPAL: adjective, most important; noun, a person who has authority ex: The principal component in the spell was belief that it would work. ex: The principal of the school honored the graduates.

PRINCIPLE: a general or fundamental truth ex: The idea of a portal was based on a principle of string theory.

REIGN: to rule; exercise or power ex: His reign lasted beyond his death.

REIN: leather strap; tight control ex: He was ready to rein her in; he liked that option.

STATIONARY: standing still ex: Fear held her stationary.

STATIONERY: writing paper ex: Although decades old, the stationery showed no age.

THAN: use with comparisons ex: She would rather stay in her room than see him again.

THEN: at that time, or next ex: She sipped the wine, then collapsed.

WHO: used as a subject or as a subject complement ex: Dorian was the man who would gain her trust.

WHOM: used as an object ex: She was a woman with whom he could relate.

Chapter 1 Rachel glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, impatient for five o’clock so she could leave for the day. Not that she was in a hurry to meet her blind date, but she at least wanted to shower and freshen up before he arrived. It was going to be tight, considering she wouldn’t make it home before fivethirty, and Brian was expected at her door at six-thirty. Damn her meddling sister, Luna, and her boyfriend, Todd, for thinking she would end up an old maid if they didn’t find someone for her soon!

She looked in the mirror on the wall opposite her desk, and couldn’t help the smile that covered her full lips. What she saw was what everyone who entered White Enterprises saw—a somewhat attractive woman in her thirties, dressed conservatively in a professional suit, with matching gray heels. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop from laughing aloud. She was even wearing pearls! Black-rimmed reading glasses sat on the tip of her nose, and with her long blonde hair piled up in a loose bun, she eluded a cool professional that was barely worth noticing.

It was her fault for having to dress this way. Three years earlier, she had been desperate for a job, and rejection after rejection had gotten the best of her. Finally, someone in the know had taken pity on her and given her some advice on what most employers were looking for in the specialized, high-end job she was searching for. And it wasn’t a distraction. They wanted a well-educated, professional-looking, unthreatening secretary who was all work and no play. Rachel had to do more than just change her wardrobe—she had to change her persona.

Less than a week later, the new Rachel Masters was hired. And it wasn’t for just any position, but for one of the most coveted receptionist’s positions in one of the most prestigious architectural firms in the city. She had always intended to go back to her normal self, but time had gotten away from her and after a while, she got use to her alter ego. One benefit of dressing older and less attractive was that it kept the men from bothering her. She was thankful for that.

As she freshened up her lipstick she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see the CEO of White Enterprises walking towards the door. Oh, crap! She quickly lowered her arm and dropped the tube into her top desk drawer. A warm flush spread over her at the thought that he may have seen her. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was primping for his benefit, although she would do a lot more than put lipstick on if she thought for one minute that she would get an hour of his time.

In a word, James White was super-hot, and sexy! Six foot plus of lean, solid muscle poured into the casual clothes, he favored. He traveled a lot and she rarely saw him in a suit. Today he was wearing gray slacks that outlined his solid thighs and pulled tight across the bulge of his cock. His white shirt was open, exposing his thick neck, and the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealed powerful forearms. His dark hair was thick and unruly. However, it was the steel blue of his eyes and his sensual mouth that did it for Rachel. She could barely look at him without wanting to eat him up.

She sensed more than heard the door open, and glanced up out of habit. “Hello, Mr. White.”

He nodded. “Rachel.”

His gaze seemed to take her in all at once. When slight humor glinted in his eyes, she looked down and sifted through some papers. Did he sense her interest in him?

“Any messages left for me?”

Yes, from his current girlfriend, the witch! She had stormed into the foyer early that morning, swearing, angry and demanding to see him. It had taken Rachel nearly ten minutes to calm her down, and then another five to write James a note. The woman would have been beautiful had anger not contorted her over-tanned, botoxed features.

She reached for the envelope on top of her inbox and handed it to him. “Miss Thomas left you a note.” She met his gaze briefly.

Rachel watched his sensual mouth turn down as he ripped the envelope open and scanned over the message. She seriously doubted it was a love note. A heavy sign escaped James when he was done, and he crumbled the paper in his hand and jammed it into his pants pocket. The action caused Rachel to glance at the front of his slacks. Lord, how many times had she dreamt of lowering that zipper and reaching inside for what she determined must be a sizable love tool? She laughed to herself at her description of it.

“Rachel?”

Rachel reluctantly glanced up, the heat of embarrassment crawling up her neck. She met his eyes over the rim of her glasses. “Yes, sir?” Had she missed something?

“I asked if you would do me a favor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, Mr. White. What is it?”Rachel held her breath when he suddenly reached forward. Her eyes rounded and she leaned away.

But all he did was pull the pencil out of her bun. She had slid it in there earlier that morning.

“Relax, sweetheart. I just want to write down a number and address.”

Sweetheart? His soft tone, even though it was all business, awakened Rachel’s senses to endless possibilities, of fantasies she had been harboring since meeting him. She thought about her upcoming date, wondering if she could work out some of her sexual frustrations on him. It had been a while since she’d had a good romp.

“I want you to order three dozen Calla Lilies and have them sent to this address,” he told her as he wrote.

“Any note?” Rachel nervously pushed her glasses up her nose and offered a small smile.

“No note. She’ll understand when she receives the flowers.”

He handed Rachel the paper and pencil as he straightened up. “Thank you.” Without another word or backwards glance, he pivoted from her desk and walked towards the elevators.

Rachel released her breath, and reached up to undo the top few buttons to her blouse. God, she was hot, thanks to Mr. Hot! The way that he looked at her only turned the furnace up, and her curiosity. Not about the flowers. It was common knowledge that when James White was done with a woman he sent them three dozen of their favorite flowers. Poor Miss Thomas. She hadn’t lasted as long as some of the others had. And Rachel had met them all at one time or another.

As an unsympathetic smile covered her face. Rachel wished she could see the other woman’s expression when she answered her door to the deliveryman, and realized her status in James White’s life had changed. He and his millions were considered quite a catch. And more than one woman had tried to get him to the altar. Rachel decided he must like variety because most women didn’t make it past the third month. After all, it was the spice of life, wasn’t it? The only thing she knew was that she would like to have a go at him.

Sighing, she glanced at the clock again. Fifteen more minutes. She got up from her desk and went to the front glass door, locking it. Now that no one could come in, she picked up several large manila envelopes off her desk and headed for the elevator. It wasn’t necessary, as there was a mail clerk who delivered the mail several times a day, but it would make the last few minutes go by faster. Besides, James White had one addressed to him.

Punching the button to the tenth floor, she decided to start there and work her way down. When she stepped out of the elevator, it was eerily quiet.

Most of the lights were off. It was Friday, and many people had already left for the long holiday weekend. She intended on leaving James’ mail on his secretary’s desk, located right outside his open door.

“Someone out there?”

It was obvious he had heard the elevator ring when she reached the floor. “It’s just me delivering mail, Mr. White.”

“If it’s for me please bring it in.”

Rachel picked it back up and went into his office. Like the man, it was highly masculine, from the wall-to-wall bookcase to the bar set up in one corner.

The furniture was dark, the leather sofa and chairs showing their age. He glanced up when she entered. His gaze immediately dropped to the front of her open blouse, and Rachel’s body responded in a big way. A pleasant tingling in her nipples warned her they were turning hard. She was thankful she still had on her suit jacket. Yet by the hard gleam in his eyes, she wondered if he could see through her clothes. She resisted the urge to reach up and see if she had undone too many buttons. When James’s gaze finally lifted to hers, she recognized the sharp awareness turning his eyes darker. She stared at him over the rim of her glasses, waiting for him to take the envelope from her hand.

“I notice that most of the time you seem to be looking over the top of your glasses, Miss Masters. Do you even need them?”

His comment caught Rachel by surprise. She returned his smile. “I only need them for reading. If I take them off I’ll lose them.” He looked younger when he was relaxed, more approachable, and not the cool, standoffish, successful man he was.

Why did he have to be so damned hot? Rachel wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there under his scrutiny without breaking out in a sweat.

He had to know how he affected women. If those blue, gotta-have-you-now-eyes raked over her one more time, she was going to do something that would get her fired. She couldn’t help it. Unless she was crazy, there was more than just a little interest in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”He started to walk around his desk toward her. “You look a little flustered.”

She wondered what he would do if she were to tell him the truth. That all she could think about was locking his office door and seducing him into fucking her.

“I’m a little, ah, hot.” She might as well be honest with him. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?” Rachel was proud of how cool and impersonal her tone sounded, when she was melting like a hot candle inside. She turned as he moved closer to her, thinking he meant to leave.

“No but if you’ll wait I’ll take the elevator down with you.”

She tried to ignore that he was right behind her. The seductress in her put a little extra bounce in her step. Rachel knew her legs looked good in nylons and heels that were a little too high. They waited for the elevator in silence and it was during those tense moments that she realized James was so close she could smell his expensive cologne. Without being obvious, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the clean, citrus fragrance of Clive Christian. It was very arousing, and his favorite. The only reason she knew that was because everyone had chipped in to get him a bottle for Christmas. And why not?

He’d been very good to them at bonus time.

The elevator door finally opened and she stepped in, walking to the far corner before turning around to face the door. James was turning too, but not before Rachel saw the knowing smile spread across his handsome face. Oh, god! I am attracted to him and he knows it. It must amuse him! As the elevator started down Rachel forgot all about stopping on the seventh or eighth floors to drop off the other mail in her hands. She was too aware of James and being alone with him in the suddenly small elevator. The silence was unnerving.

Rachel stared up at the numbers indicating which floor they were on and then suddenly the unthinkable happened. The elevator jerked to a sudden halt. She caught her breath and grabbed the side rail to steady herself. According to the light, they were halfway between five and six.

Ohmygod! No! She was claustrophobic!

Chapter 2 “Did the power go out?”

Rachel was aware her voice sounded slightly panicked. It had taken her a long time to get over her fear of taking the elevator. Only because she convinced herself that nothing would happen in the few seconds it would take to go from floor to floor. Maybe she had been a little naïve in thinking that way, but for three years, it had worked. She’d never considered what she would do in a situation like this, besides panic and scream like hell.

Oh God! It’s a long weekend. There’s no way I can stay in this elevator that long without losing my sanity!

She was inside something that resembled a box, no windows or exits, and Rachel knew claustrophobia was going to get the best of her. If she didn’t get out of there soon she was going to have an attack. She could already feel the unreasonable fear reaching up to swallow her, the sensation of not being able to breathe. Of being entombed. In her mind’s eye, she was in a coffin, and everything was closing in on her at a frightening speed.

Her breathing escaladed, her chest felt heavy. Sweat began to run between her breasts. She was aware that James was there. He was pushing buttons that didn’t work. Picking up a phone and then swearing when that too appeared to be broken. The lights were still on so it wasn’t the power. Rachel stepped forward but had nowhere to go.

“Are we trapped?” The walls were rapidly closing in on her. She glanced up at the vent in the ceiling, wondering if they could get out that way. “We can’t be trapped.” She moved in front of James and punched several buttons. “We can’t be!” She met James’ gaze, realizing she must look wild to him. She needed to get out of there, couldn’t he see that?

James pulled her hand away from the buttons. “I’ve tried all that, Rachel. I’m sure—” The elevator jerked, moved down about three feet, and then jerked to a sudden stop again. At the same time, the lights went out.

“No!”Rachel cried out softly, flattening her back against the wall and dropping the mail in her hands. She was going to lose it, fighting down the scream that was bubbling up her throat. “Noooo!” It was pitch black.

“It’s okay, Rachel.” She felt searching hands move casually over her and then settle on her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”

She struggled against him. “You don’t understand,” she said, pushing against his chest.

“You’re claustrophobic.” His tone was firm yet kind. And he was strong. She could feel it in his hands and the defined muscles of his chest. Trying to pull away from him was futile. “I get it.”

“I can’t breathe!”

At just that moment, the emergency lights flickered on. Being able to see again calmed Rachel somewhat, but it threw her into a completely new situation. Something dangerous and a little frightening. James was close, almost leaning into her, his hands held her shoulders against the wall. Their gazes clashed. Her heart was pounding wildly and she was certain he could hear it.

“How bad do you have it?”

His breath was warm against her face. Rachel swallowed. “I can overcome it most of the time, if I think of something else. But knowing that I can’t get out right this minute is the problem. I can’t breathe.”

“Yes you can. Just breathe in deep through your nose and release it slowly through your mouth.” He pulled the glasses off her face and tossed them away. “You’re tense. Try to relax.” His strong hands began to massage Rachel’s shoulders.

She closed her eyes and tried to do what he suggested, then shook her head no and said fiercely, “I can’t breathe. There’s no air.”

“Think of something else.” She felt his hands move from her shoulders to the buttons at her blazer. She could tell he was unbuttoning it, and the next thing Rachel knew he was slipping it off her shoulders. “It might help loosening up some of your clothing.”

Rachel felt a scorching blast of heat envelop her when James’ hands began to pull her silk blouse out of the waistband of her skirt. When his knuckles brushed her skin at the top of her blouse, she realized he was undoing more buttons at her breast. Her eyes bolted open, and her hands encircled his wrists. His movements stopped.

“What are you doing Mr. White?” she whispered.

“Helping you, I thought.” There was amusement swimming in his eyes.

“By undressing me?” If this were under normal circumstances, she would be thrilled. And if she wasn’t still stressed over her current situation.

“You can relax, Miss Masters. Your virtue is safe with me.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Why had she said that? Rachel wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

His soft laughter filled the elevator. “Well in that case, maybe you’re not safe with me.” He nudged her hands away and continued what he was doing.

His gaze followed his hands while he unbuttoned her blouse, and when he was done, he raised his eyes to hers. She detected a slight difference in his breathing, and his features hardened with what she wanted to believe were growing desire. He took his time opening her blouse all the way. She held her breath when he stared lazily at her sexy, black stretch mesh corset.

Rachel loved wearing sexy under garments. She did most of her shopping at a little place called Just for Him in the mall by where she lived. The little number she had on today fit her body like a glove, showcasing her slightly full curves to full advantage. The mesh bodice shaped her breasts softly, revealing glimpses of skin meant to tease a man into wanting to discover more. Into wanting to do more.

James sucked in his breath. “Well, this is a nice surprise. Not exactly what I was expecting.” He flicked the little satin bow between her breasts.

Then wait until he sees my matching G-string. She couldn’t breathe for another reason now. The lust fire in his eyes fueled her desire to a feverish pitch. If he kept this up, she would forget where they were. Which was the point, wasn’t it? Maybe that had been his plan all along.

“What were you expecting?” Rachel closed her eyes again, so she wouldn’t have to see the four walls closing in on them. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

His husky chuckle sounded sexy as hell. “I wonder what else you’re hiding beneath this conservative suit.” It wasn’t a question but more of a curious statement. “You’re still tight. At least you are breathing a little easier. Feeling better?”

She nodded. “As long as I can keep my mind off where I am I’ll be okay,” she admitted.

“What more can I do to help?”

“We need to get out,” Rachel insisted, stating the obvious. “Please, just do whatever you want to keep my mind off where we are.” She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she had just issued a not so subtle invitation. Rachel didn’t care. She’d been wondering what it would be like being with James for a long time. Maybe this was a prelude to gaining first-hand knowledge. She began to shiver with arousal and anticipation. Wondering what she could do to push him further in that tantalizing direction.

“I think I can manage that.”

Did he sound a little too eager, or was she being hopeful? The sexual energy between them kept the atmosphere charged. James’ gaze darkened.

Then his face was moving closer to hers. Rachel caught her breath, thinking he meant to kiss her. She opened her mouth, feeling his breath against her lips. He reached behind her and the next thing she knew he had removed the clip in her hair.

He drew back and watched the cascade of soft hair frame her face and settle beyond her shoulders. Some of it fell over her breasts.

“Damn,” his gaze moved over her with obvious pleasure. “Another nice surprise. I’ve wanted to do that for three years now.”

What?! His admission caught Rachel by surprise. Not once since she’d begun working there had he said more than a handful of words to her, or shown her any undue attention. In all fairness, maybe she just hadn’t acknowledged it because she was so determined to ignore him. Once she realized she was, attracted to him she’d made it a habit to look the other way whenever he was around, hoping to hide the lustful feelings coursing through her blood. Afraid he would guess the truth in her eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. I saw through your professional suits and granny glasses from the beginning. I’m sure you have your own reasons for dressing down but I’ve been itching to get to the real woman I sensed underneath.”

Rachel wasn’t about to go into why she felt it necessary to dress and act the way she did. The man was a millionaire a hundred times over and probably couldn’t relate to the challenges of trying to get a decent job. Especially for a woman who had the credentials, but was considered eye candy and therefore not taken seriously. She had thought those days were long past but apparently not.

It didn’t matter now. What James was revealing thrilled her to the core, heightening her fierce need for him. “Then I hope you won’t be disappointed.

Because there’s more.”

His eyebrows rose with surprise. There was that sexy sensual grin again. “I can’t wait to discover them.”

Rachel brazenly let her blouse slide down her arms to the floor. The smoldering look in his eyes told her he liked what he saw. She glanced past him to the mirror, seeing a bold woman bent on seduction. She had wanted James for so long that she wasn’t about to question her fate. She moved to unzip her skirt but his hands got there first. Without warning, he jerked her closer to him. She gasped.

“Allow me.”

Rachel closed her eyes, listening to the slow pull of the zipper as it followed the line of her hip and thigh. Then coolness touched her skin when the material of her skirt slid away to join her blouse on the floor.

“Fuck!” Her eyes flew open at James’ passionate exclamation. His face was taut with desire, his gaze running over Rachel in a visual caress that set her insides on fire. It was clear the combination of the G-string, the sheer black nylons that stopped at mid-thigh and her heels turned him on. “You’re a gorgeous woman, Rachel.” His tone was sincere.

Before she could respond, his arm slid around her waist and he pulled her sharply against him. Then his mouth covered hers in a rough kiss. Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing his embrace and the hard cock she felt pressing between her legs. She moaned with satisfaction and opened her mouth so their tongues could engage. James wasted no time in accepting her invitation. As their tongues worked against each other, he thrust his hardon further between her thighs and groaned.

Then his mouth left hers, and he kissed his way along her jaw and down her throat. Rachel arched against him with hunger, sighing with pleasure when he kissed her breasts above the corset. Her hands quickly undid the buttons to his shirt while his tongue dipped into her cleavage. Crying out, she clutched the material of his shirt to keep from falling to her knees. His hands cupped her breasts and tweaked her hard nipples until he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

Rachel’s soft cries filled the elevator. She arched her back, and her hands went to his hair to hold him against her. She was so hot she felt like she was going to go up in flames. Her pussy was creaming and soaking her G-string. James worked his way in that direction, kissing her along the way. He moved his hands around to her naked butt, and forced her against his mouth. Then Rachel felt his hot breath over the thin cloth covering her shaved mound.

“Oh god!”His tongue raked over her pussy and she creamed some more. He groaned savagely and tore the G-string away so he could kiss and nip at her naked pussy. When his tongue slid over her aching clit, a mini orgasm raced through her and she quivered violently.

She was still standing, barely, and James was on his knees. He buried his tongue inside her pussy several times in rapid succession, going deep.

She leaned against the wall weakly, panting for breath, moaning when his five o’clock shadow added further stimulation against her sensitive skin. Oh God, he certainly knew how to pleasure a woman. Rachel was sure her bones were turning to mush.

“James!”

That was when he rose to his feet and kissed her again. Tasting herself on his tongue turned her hotter. She undid the front of his slacks and reached inside for his cock. God he was big and red-hot, with pre-cum dripping from the mushroom shaped head. Hard steel covered in soft velvet. Rachel squeezed him before she realized what she was doing.

“Sweet Jesus!” James said hoarsely, thrusting his generous sized phallus into her hand. Rachel moved her hand up and down a few times, while he leaned into her for support. “Fuck! Milk it baby!”

Rachel did as he asked, and was about to drop to her knees when he lifted her against the wall. Without a word, she wrapped her legs around him and he penetrated her pussy in one, smooth plunge. For a moment, they stood there, both breathing heavy and weak with passion. Then lust overtook them and James fucked her hard and fast. She held on, feeling her ass slap against the mirrored wall. His extended cock filled her pussy and she whimpered with each deep thrust.

“You’re so fucking tight.” James mouthed the words against Rachel’s shoulder, before giving her a little bite. It hurt and felt good at the same time.

“Hell, you feel good.”

Rachel covered his mouth with hers, letting her hands trail down the back of his body. She could feel the rippling muscles in his back, and explored the firmness of his butt, clenching her fingers into him. She held him close, squeezing the inner muscles of her pussy around his pounding cock. He knew how to clit fuck a woman. Every time he entered her body, he made sure to enter at an angle that allowed him to glide over her inflamed clit. Before long, she climaxed hard, screaming with intense fulfillment.

Only it wasn’t over yet. James was still fucking her like there was no tomorrow. His stamina at that speed was overwhelming. As Rachel’s body continued to convulse she reached between them and cupped his heavy balls, giving them a little squeeze. That action sent James over the top and he groaned, coming inside her.

“Fuck,” he whispered harshly when his cock stopped jetting cum against her vaginal walls. “I can’t remember coming this hard in a long time. And we forgot protection.”

It had been the last thing on Rachel’s mind. “I’m clean.” She’d just had her yearly physical.

“So am I but what about pregnancy?” he rasped.

She did a quick calculation. “I’m safe for the next couple of days.”

They remained locked together, leaning weakly against the wall until his cock slid from Rachel’s pussy. The air in the elevator felt thick and over warm. Their combined heavy breathing fogged the mirrors. A fine mist of moisture covered them and the scent of sex was pungent. Rachel released a long, satisfied sigh. Sex with James was better than any of her fantasies about him.

“You okay?”

His concern was touching. She smiled. “Very.”

The elevator began to move. Ohmygod! Talk about bad timing. Their gazes met. James moved quickly and hit the button to stop it. Rachel’s eyes rounded with fear but before she could say anything, he hit the button to the tenth floor.

“What, where are we going?” She tried to calm herself. The elevator was moving again and in a matter of seconds, she would be out.

“There’s no way in hell we’re going down like this.” He removed his shirt and brought it around Rachel’s shoulders. Then bent and scooped up her clothing. “We’re going to my office.”

The doors opened. Rachel rushed out, unconcerned with her undressed state. She sucked in several lung full’s of fresh air-conditioned air. A quick glance told her they were alone. The clock on the wall revealed it was almost seven-ten. The whole building was probably empty by now.

James passed her and she followed him to his office. He closed and locked the door behind them. She watched him toss her clothes to the sofa, and turn on a desk lamp. When he turned to face her, his gaze traveled down her body in a lingering, visual caress. Remembering her pussy was exposed, Rachel pulled his shirt around her. A crooked grin covered his face, too sexy for words. Suddenly she felt exposed and shy. They’d just had smoking hot sex in the elevator, where did they go from there?

He walked back to her with a lazy, satisfied look on his face, the glaze of their recent intimacy still evident in his eyes. Rachel tried to avoid looking down at his pants, when she knew they were still unzipped and parted. Excitement filled her senses. Cum was running down the inside of her thigh and she resisted rubbing her legs together to stop the tickle. She began to tingle all over, anticipating that they would fuck again. She’d enjoyed his magnificent cock inside her and wanted to experience it again.

“What do we do now?” she asked when James halted within an inch from her.

“I want to see all of you. Take your clothes off.”

Chapter 3 The deep seriousness of his tone sent a little quiver down Rachel’s spine. She didn’t think about saying no. His eyes were darkening, and the raw desire contorting his features mesmerized her. Still, something naughty inside wanted to push James’ buttons. She wanted to see how far she could tease him before he lost control. He didn’t look like the type of man who took no for an answer.

With a teasing smile, she shook her head and slowly backed up. “And if I say no?”

Eyes that had almost turned black raked down her body. “You didn’t say no in the elevator.”

“That was different. I was, ah, scared.”

“Really?” He slowly began to stalk her. “I thought you were eager for a good fuck.”

Oh god! He knows exactly what to say to turn me on. Her back came up against the door to his office. He didn’t stop until he pressed up against her.

She caught her breath, and refused to break eye contact. His hands went to her hips and Rachel felt his mouth against her shoulder.

“I don’t intend to fuck you again standing up.” His mouth traveled up the side of her neck. “But damn I want you again…now!”

Oh! Rachel shivered wildly, feeling a rush of wet heat flood her pussy. “Don’t you think we should get to know each other a little better first?” At the moment, she could care less about getting to know James better. It was all part of the game.

She didn’t like the sound of his laugh. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“And I know who you are. Right now that’s all that matters.”

He kissed her. Roughly, passionately, and thoroughly, grinding his body into hers, so she could feel his hard cock against her pussy. He thrust forward, separating her pussy lips and setting fire to her clit. Mutual sounds of pleasure erupted around them. She parted her thighs, silently inviting him inside her body. Only James seemed intent on teasing her until she was squirming and gasping uncontrollably. Weak-kneed with longing, she sank to her knees.

And took him into her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” His tone clearly said he wasn’t expecting that. As though with a mind of their own his hips jerked forward until Rachel felt the head of his cock at the back of her throat.

He groaned when she began to suck him hard.

She licked and sucked his shaft as if it was her favorite Popsicle. Tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered at the head. James shuddered violently when she dipped her tongue inside the slit there, his hands going to the back of her head to hold her tightly against him. She felt every ridge and vein that lined his thick cock with her tongue, before moving on to the heavy cum filled sacs beneath it. She sensed he could barely stand. Feeling the muscles in his thighs quiver, Rachel took him back into her mouth. Her hands moved to the back of his slacks and she pushed them down his buttocks.

James had a tight butt. Running her hands over him with eagerness, she explored the crack of his ass with her finger, discovering territory that turned them both a little wild. Only, during sex nothing was forbidden. As she sucked his cock from one end to the other, she gently wiggled her finger into his anus. He grunted low and lost control, spilling his seed inside her mouth. His body convulsed violently until gradually his movements slowed.

Rachel held on to his cock, feeling it deflate inside her mouth. Sensing he was about to pull out she gave him a last hard suck that caused a violent twitching of his body. She smiled, knowing how sensitive he still was at that moment.

“You witch!” James pulled her to her feet by her upper arms and kissed her feverishly. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“It’s not my first time.” Rachel smiled, running her tongue over her lips.

A gruff laugh escaped him. “Go shower, sweetheart. There’s a bathroom through that door.” He indicated a closed door with a nod of his head. “I need a drink.” He walked to the bar in the corner.

Rachel was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door to find a full sized bathroom, complete with a glass shower. What surprised her more was the bedroom beyond the bathroom. She’d heard James sometimes spent the night in his office, only she had pictured him sleeping on the sofa. He certainly seemed to have thought of everything.

She quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. Lathering up her hair and body twice with the fragrant soap and shampoo on hand. Once the soap was rinsed away Rachel let the warm water pelt down her body for a long time. She was loath to get out, enjoying the slight stimulation against her aching, sensitive skin. Her hands moved over her curves, cupping her breasts and playing with her erect nipples. Lately, in between boyfriends, she had been touching and pleasuring herself, a lot.

So, why was she still doing it after James had so thoroughly fucked her? The answer was clear. She was still horny for the man. She’d wanted him for so long that a couple of erotic sessions weren’t going to fulfill the itch she had for him. She let her hands smooth down her ribcage and flat belly, to her clean mound. Her index finger gingerly touched her clit, before sliding into her pussy. James had satisfied her and then some, but the tingle there was proof she was still hungry.

Rachel closed her eyes and leaned against the glass wall. One hand moved up to play with her breast while the other remained teasing and pleasuring her pussy. It didn’t take long before the juices of renewed excitement began to flow over her finger. Oh damn! It was easy picturing James hands touching her and giving her pleasure. If she called him, would he come?

She wasn’t that bold, and continued to finger her clit. Soft moans swirled around her as she gently rotated her hips. Another finger slipped inside her, and a third, until she imagined it was James’ thick cock. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she felt a climax building. She wasn’t aware of the shower door opening, or James entering, until she felt his mouth on her breast, and his hand joining hers on her pussy.

Her eyes bolted open. She didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. James kissed her hungrily, and then flipped her around so that she was facing the glass. He leaned into her, thrusting his hard cock between the cracks of her ass. The next thing Rachel was aware of was his hands caressing her breasts.

“I never leave a woman unsatisfied,” he growled into her ear. “You should have told me you were still hungry.”

His hands fell to her hips and he pulled them away from the glass, arching the lower half of her body against his. Her new position allowed James to slip his cock into her from behind. Rachel cried out with pleasure at the new position. She arched more, and closed her eyes to give herself up to the moment.

“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t think of anything more adequate to say.

“Don’t be. It’s not exactly a hardship fucking you.” His teeth gently scraped the skin on the back of her shoulder.

“It’s just that I’ve dreamt of this for so long.”

“This?” Rough hands glided up Rachel's ribcage to her breasts.

She turned her face so she could see him. “Of us, fucking.”

She was already close to climaxing and James caught up fast, thrusting into her unrestrained. Lord, he felt good! Rock hard and long, appeasing the itch only he could reach. Their gasps echoed in the small shower. The combination of steam and heavy breathing clouded the glass. Moving one arm around her waist to hold her in place, James’ other hand traveled down to stimulate her clit.

“Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” The feeling was too intense. Rachel was sure she was going to pass out from the pleasure when she climaxed. A small scream tore from her as her body shook uncontrollably against James. At the same time, he grabbed her hips and slammed into her one last time, groaning low with his release.

It seemed like forever that they remained pressed against the shower wall. Rachel was exhausted now. Totally spent, yet aching pleasantly. She felt him step away from her. Then the showers spray cease. She rolled onto her back, eating him up with her eyes. Completely naked, James did not disappoint. He was the model of the male species. Tall, well-defined muscles, a handsome face, and penetrating eyes.

Damn him! Why did he have to be so appealing? Rachel wanted him. But with his track record, she didn’t have a chance. At least she finally knew what it was like to be with him. Her fantasies had paled in comparison.

“I don’t think I can move.” She smiled, her tone was very serious.

“I have it covered.”

James picked her up. He stepped from the shower and headed towards his bedroom, then set Rachel on her feet at the foot of his bed. They laughed when she appeared unsteady. He reached up and brushed the wet hair away from her face.

He stared at her for so long that Rachel felt compelled to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “I have some work to do. Why don’t you get some rest?” He kissed her, almost sweetly. It didn’t last long.

Rachel glanced down at his bed, wondering how many women had been there before her. Now that she’d had a taste of James, the thought of him with someone else was torture. It occurred to her that she would probably have to quit her job. How can I continue to work here after this? It would kill her seeing him with other women.

“I can almost see what’s going on behind those incredible violet eyes,” James said, surprising her. “There haven’t been any other women in that bed, Rachel. I know I have a reputation, but there are some areas strictly off limits. This bedroom is one of them. We’ll talk more about it later.”

Needing no further persuasion, Rachel crawled beneath the crisp, cool covers and gradually fell asleep.

Chapter 4 “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

The voice seemed to be coming from a long way off, delving deeply into Rachel’s unconscious and disrupting the hot dream she was having. She moaned her annoyance and tried to burrow deeper into the blankets, too tired to open her mouth and tell whomever it was to go away. Just as she settled back into her dream, she felt the covers pulled from her.

“Do I need to kiss you awake?”

Not yet aware of where she was she nodded her head. “Hummm, yes,” she mumbled, not opening her eyes.

Warm lips covered hers. But it was the hand on her breast that brought her into full awareness. The afternoon’s events came crashing back and she wrapped her arms around James’s neck and pulled him down to her. She felt his smile against her mouth when he lost his balance. Then the kiss deepened and they were both moaning. Rachel squirmed beneath him, arching her back so he had better access to her naked breasts. He needed no encouragement to caress both globes, before letting his hand trail down her body to a more intimate spot.

“Damn. I want to fuck you again. You’re like a drug.” He kissed her nipple, then lost control and sucked her breast into his warm mouth.

“I’m not complaining,” Rachel murmured, straining against him. “You can finish what you started in my dream.”

His mouth-trailed fire down Rachel’s body but her pussy was as far as he went. He kissed it and got to his feet, glancing down at her.

“Come on, sweetheart. We can’t live on sex alone. Let’s eat and then talk.”

Rachel let him pull her to her feet. He was still naked and seemed to have no problem parading around in front of her. If he can do it, I can. Only she chickened out at the last second and grabbed for the sheet, wrapping it around her. With her gaze on his nice butt she followed, him through a door that she thought led to a closet, but turned out to be a tiny kitchen area. It was equipped with all the modern conveniences. Only instead of a table, there was a small island bar with two stools on each side.

“Wow. You ordered food in?” She was ravenous! Eyeing the grilled chicken breast, rice, and spring greens salad caused her belly to rumble.

“Hell, no! I fixed it myself. I told you, this place is off limits. No one other than my personal secretary knows about this apartment. I have very few places I can go and be alone when I need to.” He indicated a chair in front of a place setting. “Wine?”

“Yes, please.” Rachel sat and watched as he poured them each a glass. “So, what does knowing about this apartment mean for me? Do you handcuff me to the bed and keep me a prisoner here?”

James handed her a glass with amusement in his eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t had that thought,” he admitted. “Something tells me I don’t have to worry about you.” He sat down opposite of her.

“You don’t really know anything about me.” Rachel took a drink. “I might be dangerous.”

“Is that so?” His gaze roamed over the sheet she had tucked between her breasts. “You’re definitely dangerous to my libido.”

Rachel was glad the bar covered him from the waist down, and was equally thankful she had thought to cover up her nudity with a sheet. The sudden vision of them fucking on the counter top came out of nowhere and renewed her arousal. Had she suddenly become a nymphomaniac?

“I have a hundred and ninety-seven employees working for me. I make it my business to know everything I need to know about them,” he continued.

Rachel knew about the background checks and the lie detector tests. What else was there? “So what do you know about me?” She took a bite of salad.

James swallowed a mouthful of food before responding. “Let’s see . . . I know you’re particular with the men you choose. You live in a nicely furnished condo with your younger sister. You love animals. And your bra size is 36-D.” He took a drink. “I know I like fucking you.”

Rachel felt a hot blush fill her cheeks. His blunt comment went straight to her tingling pussy. He didn’t mince words.

“You’re a very desirable woman, Rachel. I decided to make you mine a long time ago.”

“You certainly took your time,” she said, unable to ignore the fresh wetness between her thighs. She pretended to show interest in the chicken on her plate, but the silence stretching between them made her raise her gaze to his again.

“I can be patient when I want something worth waiting for.” He took a drink, his eyes remaining on hers over the rim of the glass. “And you were well worth the wait.”

“Well, you’ve had me, now what?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you and what you want.”

Rachel glanced down, wondering that herself.

“Why don’t you start out by being honest?”

She took a deep breath and put down her fork. “Okay. I’ve had a crush on you since almost the first day I started here, when I glanced up and fell head first into those blue eyes. Ever since then I’ve gone out of my way not to notice whenever you were around. Then I started having, ah, dreams about you.” She looked James squarely in the eyes. “Erotic dreams. I developed a serious itch for you.”

“What kind of erotic dreams?” He took a drink, keeping his gaze trained on her.

His expression was hard to read Rachel had the strong feeling that he liked what she’d admitted. “Kind of like what we’ve just spent the last couple of hours doing.”

“And has your itch been scratched?”

Rachel lowered her gaze to her plate. If she said yes, that could mean the end of their delicious sexual encounters. If she said no, he might take it as an insult that he hadn’t satisfied her, when just the opposite was true. She had to be careful because one thing she knew was that she enjoyed sex with James, and she wanted more. Then she recalled his comment about being honest.

Maybe she raised her chin a little too high, and maybe her tone was a little on the defiant side, but she wanted James to know she wasn’t afraid of the truth, even if it might cost her what she wanted in the end. “The itch has been somewhat scratched, for now.”

“Is that a challenge?” One brow rose higher than the other did. “I thought I told you before that I never leave a woman hungry.”

The thought of him with other women rubbed her the wrong way. She wanted to be the only one he was banging up against the elevator wall or taking from behind in the shower stall. For over three years she had seen him with a dozen beautiful women, so it was obvious he had a short attention span. She wondered how long she would last. Should I tell him now that my favorite flower is the Iris?

“I know you have stamina.” Rachel finished her wine.

James leaned over the space separating them. “Just because they’re hanging on my arm doesn’t mean they’ve been in my bed. Believe me, there haven’t been that many.”

How did he know what she was thinking? She was saved from coming up with a clever response when his phone began to ring. Completely at ease with his nudity, he turned and retrieved a cell from the counter next to the sink.

“Yeah?” He swung back to Rachel. “What the hell do you mean the contract wasn’t signed?!” He listened to the person at the other end for a moment.

“No. I’ve decided to stay in town tonight.” A frown appeared between his brows. “You’ve got one minute to explain how that happened.” His words were firm and edged with anger. Rachel was seeing how ruthless James could be when it involved business. “What time is it now? Okay, I’ll meet you in ten.” He flipped his phone closed and tossed it on the counter.

By the whitening of his mouth, he was more than annoyed. “Sorry.”

“You don’t look happy. Bad news?”

“Something that was supposed to be taken care of before closing today.” His tone revealed it didn’t bode well for whoever had forgotten. “Now I have to see to it.”

Rachel followed him back into the bedroom. She silently watched him slip into his pants, and they exchanged a brief smile when he carefully zipped them up. He slipped his feet into leather slippers and reached for his shirt.

“I guess I should be leaving too.” Rachel glanced around for her clothes, finding them on the floor in a wrinkled heap. “I forgot I had a date tonight.”

She said it more to herself while bending for her corset. She was so late she doubted the date was still on. Which was just fine with her.

“You what?”

Rachel gasped when James swung her around.

“You can forget about any date tonight, and tomorrow night, and any night after that. We didn’t finish our talk but I am telling you right now, I don’t intend to give you up anytime soon. You got that, lady?”

She nodded slowly, mesmerized by the fire in his eyes. As his face moved closer to her, she realized he was going to kiss her, and decided to meet him halfway. Rachel let him pull her against him. Her fingers curled into his open shirt and she willingly opened her mouth to his searching tongue. God, I could kiss him all night!

“You’ll be here when I return?” He was slightly out of breath.

I have a choice? Even if she did, her answer would be the same. A warm heat uncurled inside her belly.

“Yes.” “I won’t be long. Make yourself to home.”

Once James was gone, Rachel decided to keep herself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. When she was done and he still hadn’t returned she went to the bedroom closet, pulled out a shirt, and slipped it on. She then turned on the TV and glanced at the clock. James had been gone for half an hour.

Sighing, she sat back to watch an old Friends episode, eventually falling asleep.

Chapter 5 Rachel was vaguely aware of someone joining her in bed, but she was too tired to let it draw her completely awake. Soon pleasant warmth moved against her backside, an arm slipped over her, and she was nestled in the cradle of male hips.

Warm lips tickled her ear. “Are you sleeping beauty or little red riding hood?”

She smiled upon hearing James’ low voice, keeping her eyes closed. “That all depends. Are you the handsome prince or the hungry wolf?” She burrowed closer against his body.

“Definitely the hungry wolf.”His teeth tugged playfully on her lower ear.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Rachel started to roll but he easily kept her against him.

“Go back to sleep, beautiful. It’s late.”

She moaned, not needing much encouragement. If he could go to sleep with a hard-on, so could she. **** Rachel stirred early the next morning. It took her a moment to get her bearings and to understand that she was in a strange bed, and why. Gradually, as everything that had happened the day before came back to her, she smiled and stretched deliciously, rubbing her butt against James soft cock. It hadn’t all been a dream! For the first time in a long time, she woke feeling sexually satisfied and whole, unlike the many mornings after suffering through a night of erotic, unfulfilled dreams.

James was holding her close against his naked body. His soft breathing stirred the hair at the back of her neck and sent goose bumps down her body. When is the last time I woke up with a sexy man in my bed? Not just any man, but the one she really wanted. How was she ever going to go back to the way things were? She remembered his words from the night before. Something about not giving her up anytime soon, but what did that mean?

It didn’t take long before Rachel felt movement against her bottom. Is James still asleep?

Deciding to find out, she gently thrust back, enjoying the feel of his dick as it lengthened and hardened against her. It felt like a hot poker, branding her where it touched. Her body responded, tingling in all the right places. Gradually his hand began to move over her breast, shaping it with his palm while thumbing her nipple. A current of electricity zinged from her nipple straight down to her clit, so strong that it drew a gasp from her.

James’ mouth closed over her earlobe. He nibbled on it gently, and traced her ear with his tongue. His hot breath caused Rachel to shudder. The sensation in her clit intensified and throbbed like a heartbeat.

“When did you come to bed?” she asked softly.

“Just a few hours ago. Business took longer than I’d planned.” He kissed a spot behind her ear. “The downside of owning your own company.”

“I missed you.”

Rachel sighed blissfully when his hand smoothed down her belly, pausing at the top of her pelvic bone. She tried to urge him lower, squirming against his probing cock to make him lose control. Couldn’t he feel her need? Maybe he wasn’t as horny as she was. Well, she would take care of that. Placing her hand over his, she guided him between her legs. She opened to him and positioned his palm over the opening of her pussy, and then squeezed her legs closed.

James’ breath grew uneven. He thrust his cock against Rachel, at the same time slipping a finger inside her, just as she wanted. She moaned with pleasure and moved her hips.

“Damn, you’re already wet for me,” he grated against her ear. “I can’t wait to slide my cock in you.”

His passion-laced tone caused a tiny explosion inside her. Rachel felt herself creaming around his finger. James teased her until her insides were pulsing with desire. He took time to toy with her clit, too, flicking his thumb over the hard, little nub. She began to quiver wildly, hungry for him to penetrate her pussy with something more substantial than his finger.

“James…,” she gasped when he hit a particular spot. What was that? “Oh damn!” She started to shake, the intense yet pleasurable feeling washing over her like nothing she had experienced before.

“What baby?” He was steady pumping his penis against the cheeks of her butt.

Rachel laughed, but it held little humor. “I don’t know. I think, I think you found my G-spot!” Whatever it was, it was highly sensitive and gave her great pleasure.

Now he was laughing. “Don’t tell me that’s a first for you.”

But it was. “Oh God.”His finger stopped deep inside Rachel, giving special attention to a spot in the upper wall of her vagina. “Yes! Ohmygod, fuck, that’s it!” She cried out, trembling passionately. “Right there! Damn that feels good! Don’t stop!”

James teased and tormented Rachel a little longer until finally putting her out of her misery. He pulled her onto her back and mounted her. She was panting and gyrating beneath him, and arched her hips off the bed when he thrust his cock forward, impaling her. He shuddered, groaning deep and low.

“Fuck!” He began to move immediately. While he worked up his speed, he kissed and sucked his way from Rachel’s mouth to her quivering breasts.

She cried out when he made love to them, pulling and tugging on them with his teeth until her nipples were big and hard as berries.

He moved back up her body, and touched his lips to hers. “I like fucking you. You’re so tight and responsive.” He kissed Rachel passionately. His hands moved over her body, rough at times and gentle at others.

Rachel held nothing back, loving James just as thoroughly. She touched him wherever she could, running her hands over his hard frame, exploring muscles that twitched beneath her caresses. Her path took her over his broad shoulders, down his powerful arms, and up his smooth back. She checked out his well-defined butt and clenched her nails into his flesh, urging him to fuck her harder.

“Fuck me harder, James,” Rachel said between kisses. “Fuck me faster!”

With a grunt, James began to pound in and out of her body, like a jackhammer on concrete. They were breathing heavily. Rachel was on the pinnacle of coming and sensed he was too. A small scream escaped her when an exploding climax claimed her, showing no mercy. As she convulsed against James and squeezed his cock, he came forcefully too. They clung to one another until finally he relaxed against her.

It seemed like a long time went by in which they lay that way, against one another, struggling to catch their breath, both glistening with moisture from their exertions. James’ head was on Rachel’s shoulder and her arms were holding him close. She jerked when he slipped out of her, feeling an emptiness that went all the way to her soul. He raised his head to meet her eyes.

“You’re putting my stamina to the test.” He was grinning.

Rachel returned his smile. “Having a hard time keeping up?”

He kissed her roughly. “Hell, no. I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He framed her face with his hands. “And my lips.” He kissed her.

Rachel arched her hips into him. “What about this?” Meaning his cock.

“Definitely that.” James kissed her again as if he couldn’t help himself. “Do you have plans for this weekend? Any other dates I have to worry about?”

Rachel thought about his question for a moment. “That date was a blind date set up by my sister and her boyfriend. That reminds me, I had better phone Luna before she calls our mother, who in turn will notify the police, FBI, and the National Guard. And no, I don’t have any plans.”

“Good. You do now.”

“Oh? You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

His laugh was sexy as hell, and the confident glitter in his eyes mesmerized Rachel.

“Baby, we’re going to spend this weekend getting to know one another. I have a yacht we can take out to the middle of nowhere, just you and me. We already know the sex between us is dynamite, but that’s not the only thing two people should have.”

Rachel remained quiet, a little surprised by what he was saying. She hoped she was reading it right because it sounded like James wanted a relationship with her. “What if we don’t like what we discover? We just, ah, continue with the dynamite sex?”

“You wouldn’t like that, honey. When I’m with a woman, she is the only woman I am with. A strictly sexual relationship leaves the door open for, ah, indiscretions. And I doubt you’ll enjoy sharing me anymore than I would enjoy sharing you.”

“Oh.” “Oh.” He kissed Rachel on the nose. “So what do you say we get a shower, a quick bite to eat, and head down to the marina?”

“I think I’d like to get to know you.”

“Good.” James rolled off Rachel and got to his feet.

Her eyes ate him up. She couldn’t believe he was finally hers. And it appeared he wanted her and not just her body. Happiness filled Rachel. She accepted the hand he offered her and let him pull her to her feet. His gaze roamed down her body and back up again just as she had done. The next thing she knew he reached forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her up against him.

“You have a damn beautiful body. I get aroused just looking at it.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Rachel said. “I have a question, James--what happens if we don’t like what we discover about each other?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “Then we start over, honey. I don’t give up that easy.”

Rachel liked the sound of that. When he lowered his face, she opened her mouth in anticipation of his kiss. His mouth moved against hers firmly, coaxingly, passionately.

Promising tomorrow and maybe beyond.

The End

A Summer’s Journey By Kathleen Ann Gallagher Chapter One Guilt was a hell of a thing.

Savannah knew guilt firsthand. Guilt infused her life so seamlessly, she couldn’t imagine living without it.

However, today…Today guilt threatened to level her.

Today was her daughter’s birthday and her one wish was to hold her.

Savannah trudged up the stairs into the train and released a relieved sigh once she reached the top. Despite the ache in her legs, she had only moments left to board.

Although last night’s discussion with her mother made matters worse, she tried to cast all of her negative thoughts aside. It was her life and her career decision. She’d worked hard to get where she was, despite her parents disapproval. It was their problem if they refused to accept her choices. Savannah tried to ignore the sadness in her heart, but failed miserably.

Each bump and jerk of the speeding train was a vise tightening across her forehead, forcing her to blink away the sting in her eyes. Every year on her daughter’s birthday, she relived the day she made the decision to place her up for adoption. She’d read dozens of books on the subject of grief and had finished treatment, but inside she still longed for her baby. When she found a vacant seat, last call announcements sounded overhead.

As the conductor gave a friendly nod and passed by, his assortment of keys jingled like Christmas bells in his haste to down the aisle to check in the new arrivals.

“Pardon me.” An apologetic tone rang amongst the crowd. A sloppily dressed young woman scolded two whiny little girls and guided them down the narrow aisle. One of the toddlers brushed the side of Savannah’s skirt with a sugar cookie and a renewed desire to celebrate her child’s birthday tugged at her heart. If only I could see her blow out the candles. Savannah turned thirty last month and wanted to live a balanced, healthy life, but she avoided a committed relationship at any cost. Dating took a second seat to her responsibilities at work. The television station consumed her every waking moment.

With her nerves on edge, she slipped into a seat and dropped her bag on the floor. Struggling to flip down the footrest, she gave a sigh. At the next station, the train stopped for a few minutes, and after she slipped off her jacket, Savannah settled in.

A woman headed toward the empty seat next to her. Savannah hoped for an uninterrupted commute. She wanted to avoid conversation on the ride to the city, but she didn’t think of herself as a loner. Time spent with friends and interacting with people meant the world to her. Each night she reported the news through the eyes of the people.

“Is this space occupied?” The new arrival flashed a pearly smile and motioned to the vacant spot. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Savannah found it unusual to see someone so carefree and happy in the morning. There was once a time when she had the same glow. “It’s not a problem. I’ll move my things,” she said. Her jaw tightened as she gathered her belongings.

The stranger nudged her with an elbow and crammed a large package into the tiny space on the floor. With a swift pull of the side rail, she adjusted her seat forward. “Are you on your way to work?” she asked.

Savannah took a moment before she answered. Small talk seemed unnecessary, especially on the anniversary of a day a mother should be celebrating her child’s birth, not mourn a loss. It took strength to put on a smile with her heart torn in half, but she tried to pull herself together. A good image was important to her, so she held her head up and drew in a breath. “Yes, this is my regular morning commute. Do you work in the city?”

“I have to meet with someone.” Despite a gaunt appearance, her tone came across upbeat. Savannah tried not to stare, but the dark circles under her eyes stood out even through the layers of makeup and her long lashes perfectly framed her emerald green eyes.

The muscles in her neck relaxed as Savannah sat back and stared out the window. Luckily, her headache slowly eased and she hoped it wouldn’t return. Her favorite season was summer, even though it brought back the sorrow of the past. When the train passed the water, the warm glow of the sum made it shimmer and it set the mood for a productive day. Savannah vowed to stay focused on her career goals and get through the day, no matter how hard it was.

“They call me PJ.” The woman turned to face her.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Savannah Mason.”

She glanced over and noticed a key chain the friendly stranger clutched in her hands. A display of various photos of children on a beach in an unusual shaped frame caught her attention. Savannah squirmed around and craned her neck to sneak a peek. Three multi-colored areas sat in the center of a silver peace sign.

“I always carry this with me when I travel. It helps remind me what’s truly important in life.” She looked down and hesitated. “My loved ones always bring me great comfort.” PJ raised the picture and allowed Savannah a glimpse of her treasured piece.

“Do you have any children?” PJ asked.

Savannah cleared her throat and quickly looked away. “No. I don’t.” A queasy feeling churned in her stomach.

“You’ll understand one day.” PJ gave Savannah a friendly pat on the arm and returned the key chain to her purse.

As Savannah watched the neon lights flicker across the sign next to the entryway, she pressed her back into the seat, deep in thought. The subject of kids was difficult to talk about; nevertheless, there was something about PJ. The unlikely pair developed a rapport and chatted for the remainder of the ride. They exchanged their philosophies on life as if it were suitable conversation for the morning. Savannah wondered why she found it easy to open up to PJ. Perhaps she needed to confide in someone neutral to divert her thoughts away from the recent family dispute. With the constant struggle with her parents and the pressure to succeed at work, anxiety threatened her sanity. She thought about going to one of the seminars by a self-help guru when a co-worker mentioned an upcoming wellness retreat in Oregon, but decided to put a vacation on hold.

After an unusually pleasant ride, the train stopped in Penn Station. “Here’s my card,” Savannah said as she hurried to scribble her new email address on the back. ”Call me when you have a date for the festival.” A new friendship was in bloom. Whatever the reason, the conversation helped her feel better.

She rushed to be first in line at the exit, threw her coffee cup in the trash, and felt a renewed sense of gratitude. PJ extended an invitation to do a guest appearance at an upcoming charity event. The organization worked with young women from dysfunctional families. Savannah agreed to attend, but was surprised she accepted the invitation in the first place. Between her long hours at work and the many sleepless nights, she normally avoided any weekend commitments.

“I’ll talk to you soon.” She waved as they went their separate ways and pondered her new acquaintance. As Savannah clung onto her shoulder bag, she hurried up the stairs to the street. The morning temperature rose and she slipped on her sunglasses, happy to have remembered to bring them. After a glimpse of her image in a large mirror in front of an upscale shop, she noticed how the lack of a good night’s rest had left its mark. If it weren’t for a decent haircut and the make-up department, she wouldn’t be able to set foot in front of the camera. Savannah loved her new short bob and the way her jet-black hair shined like silk.

In between the tall buildings, the sky’s layers of blue and white looked like a tapestry with the summer sun’s radiance, yet Savannah’s thoughts raced with the details of the morning’s agenda. The aroma from the pretzel vendors was enticing, yet she resisted.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the woman on the train. PJ was younger than she was; however, she exuded the eloquence only life’s experience could offer. Her voice had a melodic quality, which conveyed a sense of peace and comfort. Savannah envied the bond the mysterious woman had with her family and secretly wished she shared a love so great.

Even though she was at odds with her father, the one stable thing Savannah had was her job. It made her feel whole, valued as part of something with meaning. She adored her exciting position at one of the hottest news program on television, which had fabulous reviews and top ratings. On occasion, an opportunity would come along for her to do a special assignment and she jumped at every chance to excel. She knew diligent work ethic was important before she could win the role as anchor. Journalism had first captured her attention as a young girl

when the whole family watched the evening news curled up on the sectional and she’d kept her dream alive. A job as a reporter held many challenges; yet, Savannah knew nothing worthwhile came without hard work. The memory of her father preaching about a diligent work ethic helped early on in life and it worked in Savannah’s favor in broadcasting. She put in long hours and had eagerly traveled all around the tri-state area to cover a story.

After several cab drivers sped by, she managed to get the attention of one of them by waving her arms in the air like a school crossing guard. He stopped at the curb with a screech of his brakes and she hopped inside. She watched as the people around her hurried to their destinations and hoped to get through the day. Before long, the cab pulled up in front of her building.

The studio entrance faced a coffee shop where occasional concerts took place, weather permitting. A dream to be the anchor on such a show and conduct interviews with authors, politicians, celebrities, along with today’s headliners kept Savannah motivated. One day!

A message appeared on her phone and Savannah slid a finger across the screen. The security guard gave a cordial greeting and they chatted while she pressed the button for the elevator. Savannah glanced at her watch and shuffled back and forth. The door opened and she entered, frustrated about her early morning interruption.

“What does she want now?” she murmured under her breath. The call from her mother came at the wrong time and she hoped the call wasn’t an effort to continue the disagreement over how seldom she came to visit. She listened to it. “Call me later. I have something to discuss with you.” Savannah hit the delete button. She wanted nothing more than to finish the day and rush home to hide under the covers.

The magnificent estate in Rumson, New Jersey held many fond memories, but in recent years she’d kept her instance. The house sat along the Navesink River in an area where only the elite resided. Her father’s practice had brought him good fortune and she missed the days when they had their father daughter talks outside by the water.

The town displayed an old world charm and she missed the beautiful tree lined streets, especially in summer when the evening sky took on a sun kissed glow. It was the time of year for outside parties and an early evening stroll on the water. However, Savannah didn’t plan many visits to her parents unless it was an absolute emergency.

It broke her heart when her father had pushed her out of his life.

As soon as she reached her desk, Savannah plopped in the chair and glanced over to her best friend Angela.

Along the wall across from her desk photos of the newscasters from earlier days hung side by side. She took a second to sneak a peek at her idols. A stale cup of coffee left from the previous day sat next to a bag of raspberry butter cookies. With one clean sweep, she dumped them both in the trash. When her computer came to life, Savannah tried to organize her thoughts as she opened her email.

An assignment to cover a ninety-fifth birthday celebration for one of the oldest original members of the famous Rockettes sounded like fun. The elderly woman’s name was Beatrice McDowell and she lived in a nursing home in Brooklyn. Since the interview took place at noon, she had time to go over her mail then brief over the former dancer’s biography. It took time to zero in on key points in her life. The beginning of another monster headache began and her brow twitched as she got up to get a stack of paper for the printer. She rushed back to her desk, sat back down, opened the top drawer, and took out a bottle of Tylenol. With one swift movement, she swung around, and reached for a cup of water from the cooler then quickly popped two into her mouth.

“What are you up to?” Savannah asked, with a curious glare as she looked up and found Angela at her desk.

“Oh nothing,” Angela returned with a devilish smirk and a look of I know a secret all over her face. She placed her cup on the desk, her arms behind her back, and swayed back and forth.

“Tell me, already.” Savannah rested one hand on her waist. “I’m not in the mood for games.” Tension rippled through her upper body.

“The word is that Mr. Carlisle is scouting around for someone to conduct an interview with the best-selling author, Dr. Robert Sinclair.” Angela crouched over and cupped her hand next to her mouth. She blabbed it all in one breath, as if to divulge a top secret.

“I don’t care,” Savannah said.

“A bad attitude certainly won’t get you the job you want.” Angela stepped back and gave a surprised frown.

“Well, I overheard Scott Manning brag how he’s the first choice for the spot. He’s so obnoxious.” Her loud remark carried across the room.

“Keep it down. Scott has done special assignments before. Why wouldn’t he expect to get the job? He is the senior reporter. Isn’t he?” Savannah wondered about the sudden barrage of negative remarks.

“You’re the one who needs this interview. It could help your career take off. His segments are old fashioned, chauvinistic, and further more; I can’t stand the way he looks at me when we ride the elevator together. He’s a flirt, and I know what’s on his mind.” Angela raised her shoulders and folder her arms. “There must be a reason he’s still around.”

“What are you insinuating?” Savannah had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Today is not the day for a debate.

“I’m annoyed with your willingness to let him get all the opportunities. It’s up to you to step it up.” Angela’s enthusiasm made it seem like there was something in it for her. “You’re down to earth approach and sincere charm touches the viewers in a special place.”

“Don’t mind me.” She tried to shake the blues and appreciated her friend’s support. “I’m not getting enough sleep.” Savannah rubbed the back of her neck and slouched.

“Is something wrong?

“I’m absolutely peachy.”

“Come on, let’s hear it,” Angela insisted.

“I have a lot on my mind. Maybe you don’t remember what day it is?”

“Not really,” Angela admitted.

“I’ve struggled with my emotions for weeks, but each year it gets harder. My heart still aches for her. I feel all alone.” Savannah’s voice cracked as her eyes welled with tears.

“What’s going on?”

“Today is my daughter’s birthday and I still envision the horrible place they sent me to give birth.” She reached over and grabbed a tissue from a nearby shelf. “It’s been twelve years and I can’t get her out of my mind.

It doesn’t get easier with time.” She folded her arms and trembled. “I never even had a chance to hold her.”

Savannah lowered her head and the feeling of shame surfaced as if it were brand new.

Angela got up to close the door before she positioned her chair and sat. She reached over and gave her friend a supportive hug. “I know it still hurts.” She looked directly into Savannah’s eyes. “I’ve noticed you were different for weeks, but I thought it was the pressure at work. Why haven’t you confided in me? You know I’m not good at remembering dates.”

“Don’t repeat any of this, please,” Savannah urged.

“You swore me to secrecy back then and I kept my promise.”

Savannah knew Angela loved gossip, but she had faith in her commitment to their friendship.

“Do you remember the night when we visited Washington D. C. during the last year of school?” Savannah tried to keep her voice low. “It felt good to tell someone about my fling with Michael. Sometimes I wish I’d never met him.”

“Does Michael ever try to contact you?” Angela moved closer and rested her hands on her knees.

“No, he doesn’t care about me, or where his daughter is,” Savannah said. “I haven’t heard from him since he dumped me.”

“It sounds like you still have feelings for him. Do you still love him after all these years?”

Savannah nervously twisted a tissue in her hands. “No, I don’t think so, but it still hurts to think about how he dismissed me without a blink of an eye. The mere thought of never being able to tell her why I had no choice, is what makes me feel worse.”

“He always reminded me of a conceited, self-centered jerk, who stared in the mirror and flexed his biceps.

When he posed on top of the lifeguard bench and eyeballed all the girls, it made me sick.” Angela proclaimed her dislike for the popular pre-med student.

“He was my first love and I thought it would last forever.” Savannah tried to steady her hands as she raised her cup to her lips. “I was so happy the night he surprised me with a long weekend trip to the Bahamas. A fire, the moon, along with the soothing sound of the surf set the scene for a night of sweet surrender. It was irresponsible of me,” Savannah admitted. “I felt helpless when my parents banished me to live with a distant family member in another state to have the child. It should have been my decision whether to keep the child, or not, but the financial aspects frightened me.”

“I know, honey. It’s okay.”

“I haven’t slept well in days and every night I have a nightmare where I’m suffocating in a dark room without windows.” Savannah quivered as she described the terrifying scene. “I wake up in a cold sweat, with my heart

thumping as if it was about to burst out of my chest. There’s always a feeling of something heavy over my mouth.”

“That sounds creepy,” Angela said. Her eyes opened wide. “It sounds like PTSS to me.” She took a huge gulp of her coffee. “Have you thought about seeing someone about it?”

“I’m not crazy.” Savannah circled her finger around next to her head. “ “I never said you were crazy.”

Savannah sat back and tried to compose herself. “I needed to let that out.” She wiped her eyes and took a breath.

“I’m here for you. Do you feel better?” Angela smiled and moved over to her computer. ”I do feel better. Thank you for listening to me babble.”

Angela put a finger up to her lips and motioned with her head. ”Shh...”

A member of the writing crew from another office knocked on the doorframe. She hurried over to the printer.

“Do you mind? The one in our office works when it wants to.”

“You can share our office equipment anytime.” Savannah tried to remain professional despite her recent emotional outburst.

“Speak of the devil.” Angela stared out to the hallway.

“Good morning, ladies.” Scott Manning strutted by their door and waved. His dark trousers and plaid jacket makes him look like a model from an old Sear’s catalogue.

“I can’t stand the smug look he gives every morning. A man with a phony smile and shifty eyes can’t be trusted,” Angela insisted.

Savannah knew Angela was right and she tried to set her emotions aside to focus on the day’s assignment. An opportunity to interview a top surgeon and best-selling author sounded like the ideal thing to push her career forward. She knew it would be an added bonus if she got good reviews for it and a glimpse of an Emmy could be in her future.

“Alright you win.”

They put their heads together and searched the web for the scoop on Dr. Sinclair like two gossip rag reporters.

“He’s divorced and has custody of his two young children,” Angela announced.

Red flags instantly went up for Savannah. “Scott would be the one to handle a spot with the perfect little family man. I think we’ve learned enough for one day.”

“No we haven’t. I want to find out what happened with his marriage. I wonder if his wife cheated on him. Or better yet, he cheated on her.” Angela’s eyes opened wide as she continued to search for information.

“You promised to stay out of trouble and now you’re at it again.” Savannah smiled.

World building.

Hello everyone, I’m very glad to be back again talking to all of you! As promised, the last time I wrote, I would talk to you today about Paranormal World Building. I’ve had this on my mind recently and the timing seems perfect for me to share it with you.

Let me explain. I was lucky enough in May of 2013 to attend the Romantic Times convention in Kansas City. A great time was had by all and I learned a ton. But, I digress. (Notice how I do that, a lot?)

One afternoon, after panels, I joined a few friends and went down to a mall to have lunch. A fellow author had her daughters and one of their friends with them. They are bright, sweet, thoughtful, well-behaved teenagers and I hope some day when my own kids get older they are equally as wonderful about being surrounded by erotic romance authors all talking their craft.

In fact, one of the young ladies is a budding author herself. (This does not surprise me, her mother is an extremely talented writer.) She was working on a book she dreamed of writing and it had to do with vampires.

Through the use of some website, and I have no idea which one, she was being asked to generate rules for her book.

What kind of rules you might ask? Well, let me explain.

If you write contemporary, or historical, books you have a set of rules already set out for you. We live on planet earth.

If your book is set in northeastern United States it is likely that in the winter you will get some snow. If you live in the desert, it will be dry. These things are already set up. They are rules of existence and your book must adhere to them. But you don’t have to make them up—oh sure you invent a town but based on where you set it—rules already done.

Sometimes its basic, walk naked through Central Park, run into a police officer, you’re going to get arrested. (Most likely) And so is your character.

If you write an historical novel, you book has to live up to the rules of the day. If women could not vote during your time period, your heroine cannot go out and cast her ballot.

But Paranormals have no such rules. Anything goes, you just have to make sure the reader knows what they are. In dealing with vampires, for example, is the vampire allowed to go out in the daylight or will they burst into flames? Does the vampire need to kill the person it feeds from? ETC. This is really obvious if you read the subject matter.

Vampires in Laurell K. Hamilton are very different from Charlaine Harris’ Vampires. Each book has their rules and even though you, the author, gets to determine what they are, once they are made up, you have to follow them.

To my left during this conversation was a friend who is a very talented contemporary erotic romance writer. She looked at me and informed me that she would hate to have to world build and that’s why she doesn’t write paranormals.

For me, I would hate to write contemporaries. What do you mean my main character can’t telepathically call out for help?

Cheers. See you next time. I think we’ll stay on the subject of Vampires.

Only Scandal Will Do by Jenna Jaxon

Chapter 1 London, 1761 “Put her back in the carriage, now!” Her assailant snarled the brusque command, sending a shiver of fear through Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam.

An unseen attacker seized and tossed her into the coach. Gagged, hands pinioned behind her back, ankles bound together, she lay trussed like a Christmas goose in a cramped bundle on the hard plank floor of the dim carriage, her diaphanous Grecian costume in ruins. Schemes for escape flashed through her head in a dizzying whirl.

The horses jerked forward, the uneven cobblestones of London’s streets jouncing her already aching body.

All because she’d been bored. Doggedly, Katarina tested the bonds securing her hands, strained against the coarse rope then relaxed, seeking play in the cords. None. She muttered a curse and forced her whole body to relax. Tension would never free her. Rough and tumble games growing up with Jack had taught her that.

Jack! God, where was he? Was he alive or... She’d heard one muted cry when they were attacked, then nothing. If her brother were dead, it would be her fault.

Katarina pulled and twisted her wrists. If they had stayed in Virginia, they would have been better off.

London was far wilder than she would have believed. Although she’d heard of women being abducted by highwaymen, she’d thought them only tales--until now.

But when Jack inherited a title, they’d been forced to come to London. The six months of mourning for their father not quite over, Great-Aunt Harriet now commanded the little social life allowed her. The past month found her stuck all day with strong tea and inane gossip about her aunt’s old friends. Finally, rebellion set in. Over breakfast this morning, she’d demanded Jack escort her to a masquerade ball this evening, ironically attired as Athena, goddess of war.

A nasty rut jarred the carriage, making Kat groan. What wouldn’t she give for Athena’s armor at this moment, or at least her spear. She had to admit, though, she’d gotten her wish. She wasn’t bored now. **** Duncan Ferrers, the Marquess of Dalbury, reared his frame back in the worn leather office chair with a sullen sigh at the mound of papers piled on either side of the usually tidy desk. When one removed to Italy for almost a year leaving a steward to look after things, chaos reigned.

Chaos ate up time better spent in pleasant pursuits, such as drinking at White’s, or gaming at Worthing’s, or exploring the delights of Amorina, his special sweet meat at Madame Vestry’s House of Pleasure. Amorina, Madame Vestry herself, had been his mistress for two years prior to his departure. Duncan wondered idly who had replaced him during his absence, and sighed once more.

He opened the desk drawer and withdrew a piece of heavy cream-colored paper, folded and sealed with a blob of blood red wax imprinted with the entwined initials AV. Duncan raised the letter to his nose, closing his eyes briefly at the familiar smell of orange blossoms. He read again his name in the familiar, bold, cursive hand. It had arrived two days ago, but remained unopened. Why had she written?

Amorina was no longer for him.

Duncan threw the missive into the drawer, slammed it shut, then groaned anew. It would take a month to sort through the bills alone. He plucked another receipt from the pile that never seemed to shrink, then stopped.

Damn. Aunt Phoebe’s masquerade ball this evening required an appearance. A nuisance, but a necessity. For the family.

Oh, to hell with business. He flung the bill down and came to his feet. If it had waited a year, it could wait one more day.

He’d turned toward the crackling fire to dispel a sudden chill, when Grayson opened the door to announce, “Mr. Thomas Redmond is in the drawing room, my lord.” Chill dissipated, Duncan grinned, quit the room and hurried down the hall.

“Tommy! God, it’s good to see you again!” Duncan greeted his godfather’s son and longtime friend with a warm handshake followed by a slap on the shoulder.

Round, boyish face alight, Tommy returned the slap, then wagged a finger in his face. “Duncan, you idiot.

Why did you stay away almost a year?” Tommy sprawled in the middle of a Chippendale sofa, stretching long legs toward the roaring fire. “The club’s been deadly dull without your excitements. I swear we have had no more than four duels since you left, none even a contest. Barely any blood drawn at all.”

“My dueling is behind me, I hope.” Duncan seated himself beside his friend, restlessly stroking the goldstriped brocade of the sofa’s rounded arm. “The scandals died down, I suppose?”

Tommy rose awkwardly and strode to the sideboard, drawing the stopper from a decanter of expensive cognac. “Well, there are certainly new ones making the rounds.” He didn’t quite meet Duncan’s eyes.

Talk still going around, then. Damn. Duncan clenched his hand, digging crescent dents into the heavy fabric.

“It’s cold enough to be autumn instead of spring.” Tommy poured a libation with a generous hand. “Here, you’d better drink up as well if we’re going to brave the raw winds tonight.” He splashed amber liquid in a second cut-crystal tumbler and thrust it into his host’s hand.

Duncan raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was going out?”

“Didn’t you get your invitation?”

“I arrived less than a week ago. No one knows I’m home yet.” He leaned forward, head cocked. “How the devil did you know I was back?”

Tommy grinned. “Saw your aunt at the Mayfield’s gala on Monday. She mentioned you landed last week.

Thought I’d give you a day or two to settle in.”

Duncan shook his head. “Leave it to Aunt Phoebe. But what invitation are you talking about, Tom? My aunt’s masquerade?”

“God, no!” Tommy grimaced. “The one to Madam Vestry’s latest auction.” His smile widened to a leer.

“The madam hit upon a fresh idea for an auction. Tableaux.”

“She’s auctioning off tableaux? Of what? Why?” Tommy’s bright blue eyes glittered with excitement. “Tableaux of your deepest desires or darkest fantasies. Haven’t you ever imagined having a fantasy come true? A slave to your master? A pirate with a captured maid? A Roman soldier and a vestal virgin?” The young man chuckled. “I doubt you’ll find a virgin there tonight, though I understand some of these girls are new.”

Those images conjured a wide smile, but Duncan shook his head. Perhaps if things had been different.

“What time’s the auction?”

“Due to start at nine, as usual. Didn’t you get the invitation?”

“I received it, although I didn’t open it.” Avoiding the astonished face before him, he glanced at the mantle clock. “It’s gone eight now. I can take you to Madame Vestry’s on the way to my aunt’s.”

“You’re really not going? I would have believed you’d be keener on this, after the long voyage.”

“Oh, I’m keen enough, but I can’t be seen at Amorina’s. You know that.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Duncan?”

“Left it in Italy.” He stared intently at the fire for a moment. “You heard about my cousin, Roger Ferrers?”

“Killed in a hold-up out on the Guildford road. Sorry, Duncan.” Tommy’s gaze now also focused on the dancing flames. “That’s what brought you back?”

“Yes.” He frowned at the memory. “My aunt wrote, telling me it was my duty to return, marry and produce an heir. Which is true.” He scowled. “Easier said than done, though.” After the series of scandals that rocked him last year, it might be a cold day in hell before he could convince a woman to walk down the aisle with him. “I envy you your two brothers.” Duncan rose, downing the rest of the cognac. Though his favorite, the brandy’s usual warm, nutty flavor seemed harsh tonight.

“You wouldn’t if you were a third son,” Tommy replied. “Having to make your own way isn’t as attractive as you might think.”

“Perhaps its charm would pall after a while.” Duncan laughed, dispelling the bleak mood, and left to don the black domino costume he’d brought from Italy. The cloak, hood and glittering gold half-mask fashioned like a lion’s head concealed him entirely. He’d remain anonymous at the masquerade tonight. Settling the voluminous

folds over wine red coat and breeches, he entered the drawing room and stopped at the dismayed expression on his friend’s face.

“Are you wearing that to the auction?” Tommy asked.

“I’m not going to Madame Vestry’s.”

“Oh, you’re not becoming a Martin Marplot are you?” the young man whined. “What good is it to have you back if you’re going to spoil everybody’s fun?”

“I hardly found it fun to be accused of owning half-interest in my mistress’s brothel,” Duncan spat through clenched teeth. Then he relaxed. “I need a wife and I would wager I’ll have a better chance finding her at my aunt’s masquerade than at the auction.”

“Just come with me for a while,” Tommy pleaded. “Look over the tableaux and think what you’ll be missing.” He frowned, pulling his earnest face into a comic mask. “’Sblood, Duncan, you’re twenty-six years old.

You’re entitled to one last scrape.”

After all this time, he did deserve a night of carousing, by God. “Damned if I won’t. But I’ll still wear this.” He gestured to his unusual attire. “I’d rather not announce my presence at Madam Vestry’s. I suspect I won’t be the only one stopping by the auction before heading to my aunt’s party.” **** The nightmare ride bumped to a halt at last. Katarina had a moment to be grateful for the stillness before the door crashed open and a kidnapper seized her ankles. She struggled to wrench them away, but her abductor resolutely dragged her from the carriage and slung her over the other kidnapper’s shoulder. From this precarious position, she twisted about, gaining a brief glimpse of a short, dark-haired woman, who opened the door of a gray clapboard building.

A curt nod, then the woman lit their way with a single yellow candle down a shadowy corridor. Opening a door at the far end, she lifted the brass candlestick high to examine Katarina’s outfit, then cocked her head. The woman’s features were stark in the harsh light: ghostly white skin, delicate dark brows puckering over a petite nose, and a dark red mouth, pursed to speak. Uncommon beauty coupled with cruel detachment. Turning away, she called, “Marco! Change into the Roman costume now!”

A snarled reply from the dim hallway caused the woman to step toward the surly voice. “You’ll do it or I’ll turn your pretty face over to Nigel.” The discordant sound of her soft, menacing tone sent a chill racing down Katarina’s spine. The dark-haired woman thrust the candlestick at the other kidnapper and rushed off, her full skirts swishing.

As the woman disappeared, the kidnappers hustled Kat into a narrow room barely wide enough to hold its plain washstand and wooden close stool. They plopped her down on the convenience chair and untied the ropes.

As soon as her hands were free, she drew one back for a blow at the nearest brigand, but the tall, thin man pushed a sword into her face and shook his head.

“Lay a hand on either one of us, girl, I’ll carve your face so your own mother wouldn’t know you.” His flat tone and the icy look in his gray eyes told Kat he spoke in earnest. She reached to untie the gag, and the sword tip waved dangerously near her nose. “Nay. The gag stays until the deal is done. Afterward, you can try to talk your way out of it.”

That last statement made no sense, but she lowered her hands as the other kidnapper, an unremarkable man with a jovial face, finished untying her legs. She rotated her ankles, wiggled her toes, tried to force feeling back into them. She needed to be able to run at the first opportunity.

The kneeling kidnapper grabbed first one, then the other foot, stripping off shoes and stockings with lightning efficiency. He stood up, grinning, which made her long to kick him for his effrontery. The man elbowed his companion, remarking, “I’m thinking that’s not all’s coming off before the night’s over, eh Nigel?”

The swordsman said nothing, although a lecherous gleam in his eye told its own tale. Nigel. The darkhaired woman’s threat to Marco now made sense. The woman must employ them all. Had she engineered the kidnapping? Outrage won out over fear, and Katarina narrowed her eyes at the pair, memorizing their features.

They would pay for their part in tonight’s assault when she got out of this predicament.

The woman in charge burst into the room and handed Nigel a white full-face plaster mask. “Put this on her, Nigel. No one will see the gag under it. And for God’s sake hurry. The first auction is already underway.”

Before Kat could protest, the woman’s eyes flashed and she raised a finger in warning. “Use your head, girl. The mask protects your identity. Unless, of course, you wish to become tomorrow’s scandal.” She sped from the room without a backward glance.

Nigel shoved the mask onto Katarina’s face, almost suffocating her. Flailing, she tried to pry the mask from her face and was rewarded with a cuff to her head. By the time the world stopped spinning, she was pressed tight against Nigel’s chest and being borne down the corridor. The rank smell of his sweaty, unwashed body permeated the mask. She fought back a wave of nausea. A thunderous roar emanated from behind a dull red curtain, as though an entire army caroused there. Her stomach cramped with fear.

They stopped before the doorway. The swordsman bent his head to whisper, “If you try to run, to take the mask off--anything at all--my sword will find its mark before the night is over.” Then he heaved her over the shoulder of a blond giant dressed in the purple and white robes of a Roman senator. A soft “ugh” escaped her along with her breath as she landed on his collarbone. She hung there, struggling to breathe, less afraid of suffocating than of what lay beyond the red curtain.

Love At High Tide Christi Barth Blurb: Darcy Trent is lucky Cooper Hudson is on hand to sweep her off her feet—literally—when she nearly drowns while swimming in the ocean. But life-saving aside, Mr. Perfect's timing stinks: Darcy's career is about to take her to the complete opposite side of the Atlantic. Still, a little summer loving with the tall, blond and sexy former cop is far too tempting to pass up.

When his plans to enter the Secret Service went south thanks to a bum knee, Coop retreated to the family beach house to mull his future. Romance is the last thing on his mind, until he fishes a curvy brunette out of the sea. Now, spending time in Darcy's arms seems like the ideal distraction, even if it is just for a week.

But with Darcy's departure date fast approaching and their careers on the line, can they realize in time that their beach fling might become the real thing?

Excerpt: “Thanks for the rescue. If you hadn’t grabbed me, I’d still be doing somersaults underwater. In my book, that qualifies you for hero status.”

An unreadable emotion flickered across his eyes so fast she almost missed it. In a low mutter, he said, “Don’t call me a hero.” He hit the hard-packed sand at the edge of the water and stopped walking.

Modest, heroic and gorgeous. And it didn’t take even a fraction of her eight years of training in cultural anthropology to figure out he was attracted to her. They’d long since hit land, and yet he made no move to put her down. Not that she was complaining. She’d happily continue to sit cradled in his arms. It gave her an up-close view of his chiseled cheekbones, sharp enough to etch glass. Her fingers brushed through the salt-spiked tips of his blond hair. No doubt about it: she’d found the man candy Trina had promised. One bite of him would be as sinful and addictive as a chocolate honey truffle.

“Well, I can’t call you Mr. In-The-Right-Place-At-The-Right-Time.” When his lips curled up showing off his dimple, Darcy’s interest kicked up a notch.

“Good point. I’m Cooper Hudson. Coop, to my friends.”

“Darcy Trent.”

“It’s been a long time since I met an ocean virgin.”

“Oh, but only in the aquatic sense, I assure you.” What? Why wave her long-vanished virginity under his nose? Now he probably thought she had the morals of an alley cat. But hearing the hottest man she’d ever seen use the word virgin threw her for a loop. Not the standard nice-to-meet-you conversation, by a long shot.

He flashed an easy smile. “Don’t worry. I hadn’t planned on delivering you as a virgin sacrifice to appease the volcano gods over at the mini-golf course.”

Okay, now Darcy could add funny to the list of his overwhelming awesomeness. Maybe she really had blacked out and was hallucinating her ideal man while unconscious, underwater. What else could explain such perfection?

“Darcy, what happened?” Trina’s yell preceded her appearance in front of them. After a quick yank upward to her scrap of a top, she rested her hand on Darcy’s leg. “Why’s he carrying you? Did you get stung in the foot by a jellyfish? ’Cause if you did, I’ll pee on it. That’ll take the sting away.”

That certainly settled the whole am-I-hallucinating question. Never, ever would Darcy fantasize about her best friend peeing on her. The situation had to be real. And if Trina in all her adorable annoyingness was real, then her hot hero hunk had to be real, too.

To her dismay, Cooper lowered her to the ground.

“Your friend’s fine,” Cooper announced. “A wave almost rolled her, so she’s a little shaken up, but uninjured.”

“You keep your distance,” Darcy warned with a hand raised to keep Trina at arm’s length. “Don’t even think about peeing on me. Not even if I get attacked by an entire school of jellyfish.”

Trina wrinkled her nose. “Okay, but if the situation arises, just remember that I would be willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Friendship is a beautiful thing.” Cooper’s sardonic tone belied the sincerity of his expression.

Purchase at  Amazon  Barnes & Noble  Website | Blog | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page |Facebook Bio: Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance. Christi is President of the Maryland Romance Writers and lives in Maryland with her husband.

Kidnapped Hearts by Cait Jarrod Relax in the sun and enjoy a hot, romantic suspense between a retired FBI agent and a hometown girl as he keeps her out of reach of a known terrorist while trying to resist her charms.

Small town girl and owner of The Memory Café, Pamela Young, regales in her life with her friends, aptly named the Band of Friends until her life is turned upside down when stolen bearer bonds mysteriously come into her possession.

After a five-year disappearing act, Jake Gibson returns home retired from the FBI and ready to make a mends with his estranged family. A freelance case falls into his lap, involving the woman he’d resisted years ago. Jake will do anything to protect Pamela, even put his life in jeopardy along with his heart.

Excerpt: A scream shot Jake out of the bathroom. He’d been spying on Pamela in a bathing suit that barely covered her luscious breasts ever since she snuck out of the house until nature called him away. In his underwear, he dashed through the sliding doors in his bedroom and spotted a silhouette walking out of the water. Looking through the binoculars, he released a breath. Pamela was okay.

There was something sensual about surveilling her through binoculars. Not quite the upstanding thing to do. Then again, it was his job to watch over her. Outside of tying her to a bed, which wasn’t a terrible idea, he didn’t have any other choice.

Pamela’s next movement shocked him. She unfastened the top of her bathing suit. The discarded top landed on the sandy beach.

Jake sucked in a breath and leaned forward against the railing, supporting his weak knees. Pamela pulled the strings on each side of her too tight bikini bottoms. It slipped away.

Hard as a rock, he observed a butt naked Pamela dash into the water. Jake swallowed as her firm mounds disappeared. The sight hypnotized him until a strange prickling at the base of his neck occurred, his hair standing on end. He surveyed the stretch of beach. Nothing. He focused back on Pamela.

“Damn it.” The realization smacked him in the head like a tree branch. He had been so engrossed keeping an eye on her that he forgot agents roamed the area.

After lobbing his binoculars in a nearby chaise, he descended the deck stairs, bounded down the boardwalk, and scrambled through the sand. “Pamela!” Crap, he should have yelled Betty. The concern dissipated as his mouth watered and his dick twitched. Pamela faced him. Her lush globes swayed, beckoning him. His eyes drifted south as her waist broke the water’s surface. The moon illuminated the dark hair of her mound.

He shoved his lust aside as anger rose. “Anyone could see you.” He grabbed her beach towel from the ground. Within seconds, he stood in front of her, blocking her luscious body from anyone who roamed in the shadows. The problem was he had a direct visual of her feminine form. Like a divining rod looking for water, his male anatomy pointed directly at what it wanted.

He groaned and pressed his hand against the unthinking part of him. The ache made him cranky. “What the hell are you doing?” He moved his hand and touched her arms; her naked breasts touched his bare chest. They both stilled. He wasn’t this strong. No man was. “God, Pamela,” he said on a sigh.

The hunger in her eyes drove him crazy. He wanted his lips on hers, his hands on her firm breasts.

She shifted, and her nipples stroked his skin.

“For the love of God,” he groaned. His voice sounded strained, even to him.

“Should I remain patient?”

His eyes lifted from her breasts that begged to be touched, landing on the mischievous gleam in her eye. “No. Yes. Damn it.” He raked his hand through his hair and sucked in a mouthful of fortified air. “I can’t … but yes, we both need to be patient.”

He grasped her shoulders, turning her until her back faced him. “Raise your arms.” He wrapped the towel around her, commanding his hands not to stray from her shoulders. Despite his efforts not to touch her, he kissed the back of her neck.

She eased away and faced him, her lips turning up at the corners. “Remember, be patient.” She whisked by him.

His body pulsed with need. Wiping his hand down his face, he followed her out of the bay. **** Holding her towel firmly, Pamela trotted up the boardwalk toward the house. Jake’s footsteps sounded behind her. She wanted to reach her bedroom before he could say another word. What had she been thinking to disrobe the way she had?

The discarded bathing suit lying on the beach flashed in her mind. Tomorrow, she’d unearth it. Hopefully, the tide wouldn’t sweep it into the water. If it did, she’d leave some money in the drawer with a note of apology.

She edged around the group of flowering bushes hiding the outdoor shower and washed her feet, then turned to ascend the steps. A hand on her waist stopped her. Jake had caught up with her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The hand dropped, and the voice that responded made her skin crawl. “It’s nice to see you, Pamela.”

Trusting Again by Peggy Bird After years of struggling, Cynthia Blaine is finally getting recognition from Seattle galleries and buyers for her designer jewelry. Her life seems to be on an even keel. Her professional life, that is. Her personal life is less exciting than a cloistered nun’s. After a messy breakup with a man who decided he needed a woman who could help his career more than a mere artist could, she’s steered clear of anyone who could hurt her like that again.

Then Marius Hernandez comes into a gallery where she is working. He’s a successful coffee broker; he’s to-die-for handsome; he’s sexy and charming. And he’s very, very interested in her.

Marius woos her on a sailing trip through the beautiful San Juan Islands during which their romance lights up the summer nights. Soon after they return to Seattle, he leaves on a six-week business trip to Central America, promising he’ll return to her. But just before he’s due back, Cynthia gets a shock. And when she goes to Portland to pour out her heart to her best friend, she has another shock. Marius is in Portland, not where he said he would be. And he’s with another woman.

It’ll take more than a good cup of coffee to get Cynthia and Marius to their happily-ever-after.

Chapter 1 “I love it when she has the men in the audience sing the chorus to ‘Eight Miles Wide,’” Liz Fairchild said. “Hearing deep voices sing about the size of their vaginas never fails to amuse me.”

Cynthia Blaine had known Liz for years, and although she wasn’t surprised by anything the other woman said, she was sometimes still astonished by where Liz chose to say it. However, shushing her was a waste of effort. So was pointing out the startled expressions of the people who’d heard the comment. Liz had never learned to care about keeping her voice down or her opinion to herself.

“You like saying that out loud, don’t you?” Cynthia said.

“No one objects to that word anymore, do they? And if they do, maybe it’ll clear out the place so we can get a table. Otherwise, we’re out of luck. The bar’s full,” Liz said.

They’d just come from a matinee of the Oregon Symphony featuring Storm Large, a performer with a great voice and an amazing repertoire of songs, not all of which were appropriate for the faint of heart, a category which included Liz’s favorite, her signature song. Now, standing at the entrance to the Heathman Hotel bar, the women were hoping to find a table so they could have a glass of wine.

This girls’ afternoon out also included Amanda St. Claire, who was doing a recon for a table in the back. Amanda hadn’t been out much since the birth of her baby and Liz, whose art gallery exhibited both Amanda’s art glass and Cynthia’s designer jewelry, had, as she described it, “arranged the excursion to rectify that.”

Amanda rejoined them just in time to catch the last part of the conversation. “It’s full there, too,” she said waving toward the other room. “There are three empty chairs at a table for four, but there was a guy sitting there. I guess he’s waiting for people to join him.”

“Did you ask?” Liz said.

“No, it seemed rude.”

“If he has the only empty chairs in the place, it’s not rude. If you can’t do it, I will.” Liz headed to the area that served as overflow bar, tearoom, and place to lunch for the hotel restaurant.

In a few minutes, she reappeared in the door to the back room and motioned to the other two to join her.

“Oh, my God. Did we get lucky,” she said in a low voice. “And not just by scoring a table. The man we’ll be sitting with is one of the most beautiful creatures ever to walk the planet.”

“So, Liz, when did you say Collins will be back in Portland?” Amanda asked, trailing behind Cynthia.

“I didn’t and you’re usually more subtle than that. I love Collins but I’m not blind. You’ll understand when you see this man,” Liz said. “And to answer your question, however rhetorical it may have been, this is his week in Portland. He should be home now. With any luck, he’ll even have dinner—” “Holy hell.” Cynthia stopped so suddenly, Amanda ran into the back of her. “Is that the guy you’re talking about?” She nodded toward a man sitting alone at a table for four, a glass of red wine in his hand.

“Yup, isn’t he gorgeous?” Liz asked.

“I know him,” Cynthia said. “He commissioned a piece of my jewelry a month or so ago for his girlfriend.”

“Damn. There goes my plan to set you up. I figured I might find a way for Amanda and me to leave without you so he’d ask you to dinner.”

“Don’t you dare do anything like that,” Cynthia said, raising her voice slightly and emphasizing the “dare” part of the sentence. The last thing she needed was Liz’s heavy-handed matchmaking. It was uncomfortable enough when Liz tried to fix her up with one of her artists. Cynthia definitely didn’t want any attempts to get her together with this man.

Not when he woke up a hatch of butterflies in her stomach every time she thought about him. Ever since he’d walked into the Erickson Gallery, she’d been full of fluttery things on a regular basis. As she was now.

She smoothed the skirt of her plain lavender linen maxi dress, trying to get rid of the wrinkles, then tied the ends of the deep purple shrug she wore over it a little tighter around her waist. It was too late to wish she’d worn something sexier. Or had put her tawny blonde hair up in some intricate roll, rather than a simple braid down the middle of her back. Worn fuckme shoes instead of the flat sandals she had on. Put on a little more make-up; put on any make-up at all.

Oh, for God’s sake. Wearing something else wouldn’t have made any difference. He has a girlfriend. One he spent big bucks on for a birthday present. And what the hell was she thinking, anyway? Even if he wasn’t attached, he was way out of her league. After the whole Josh disaster last year, she’d vowed never to get herself in a similar situation again. She’d barely gotten out of that relationship with any shred of ego intact.

As the three women approached the table, the subject of her fantasies stood to greet them. Cynthia was sure his picture was in the dictionary next to the phrase “tall, dark, and handsome.” Cliché it may be but, in his case, true. He was well over six feet tall, with skin the color of a latte, and thick, black-brown hair that curled around his ears and at the back of his

neck. The first time she’d seen him in Seattle, she’d immediately wanted to thread her fingers through that hair. Lick up the side of his neck until she got to his jaw line, an earlobe, his full-lipped mouth, whatever she could reach to kiss. Put her arms over those broad shoulders. Earn one of those sensuous smiles.

Everything about the man was burned into her brain including what was, she was pretty sure from watching it walk away from her, the best ass in the Northwest. So she knew if she wasn’t careful, before this little unexpected encounter in Portland had ended, she’d likely be drooling all over him like a St. Bernard.

When the man recognized Cynthia, a broad grin spread over his face and lit up his brown eyes. “If I’d known you were one of the women who were table-less, I’d have carried it out to you. With a bottle of champagne.”

“So, the birthday gift was a success,” Cynthia said.

“Absolutely,” he said. “It was the hit of the evening. I’ve been out of town on business or I would have let you know how much my friend appreciated it.” He turned the smile on the other two women. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Marius Hernandez. Cynthia created an amazing piece of jewelry for me to give a friend as a birthday present.”

“This is Liz Fairchild, Marius. She has a gallery in Portland where I have some of my work. And this is Amanda St. Claire. She shows her work at The Fairchild, too.”

“Everyone knows Amanda St. Claire’s art glass. And I’ve read about your gallery, Liz. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve the pleasure of three beautiful and talented women joining me but whatever it was, I hope I do it often.” He gestured toward the table. “Please. Sit. Let me flag down a server and get you something to drink.”

Liz took the chair next to Marius and Amanda sat opposite her, leaving the place across from him for Cynthia. She moved the chair back from the table a bit, sure that if he went back to the slouch he’d been in before he stood, she’d be brushing knees with him and she didn’t think she could handle that.

But instead of inhabiting the chair with a casual sprawl, he sat up straighter, his forearms on the table in front of him which put her hands, not her knees, in danger. Even without touching him, Cynthia was unnerved by being this close to him. She played with the strap of the shoulder bag in her lap, twisting her fingers in it, trying not to watch him. But she wasn’t able to keep herself from sneaking peeks at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Cyn, what do you want?” Amanda’s voice broke through the heated mist that had obscured every other thought as soon as she’d seen Marius. “We’ve ordered our drinks and some food to share. The server’s waiting for you.”

“Sorry, a glass of house red, please.”

“Make that a bottle of the Malbec I’m drinking,” Marius said to the server before asking Cynthia, “Is that okay with you?

I’m drinking red wine, too, and with you and Liz ordering red, it makes sense to have a bottle.”

“I’ve never had a Malbec,” she said, “but sure. Sounds fine.”

“Most Northwesterners who drink red wine stick to local pinot noirs. But this is one of my favorites. It’s from Argentina, from a high altitude vineyard in the Andes. I think you’ll like it.”

“So, Marius, now that we have that settled,” Liz began, clearly finished with the wine discussion, “I’d love to know more about you. You commissioned a piece from Cynthia in Seattle, but are hanging out in Portland. Do you live in Washington or Oregon? Or do you slide back and forth across the Columbia at will?”

He seemed to take Liz in stride, merely smiling at her as he answered. “I live in Seattle. I’m in Portland for a coffee convention.”

“There are conventions for coffee?” Liz said. “Who knew?”

“Coffee’s big business. Especially now that Starbucks has taken it out of the supermarket and made it gourmet. My family has been in the business for several generations and we’ve seen the change. Benefited from it, to be honest.”

“You sell coffee?” Liz asked.

“Not in the sense I think you mean. We’re brokers for coffee plantation owners in Central America. We arrange the deals between coffee roasters here and plantations there.”

“Coffee roasters like Starbucks?”

“Don’t I wish. No, we have several dozen clients in and around Portland, same in Seattle, and a growing number in California.”

“Is your family in Seattle?” Amanda asked.

“Miami. My family came from Cuba when Castro took over.” Before Liz could ask another question, he went on, “My grandfather started the business. My father and uncles run it now and my brother, a cousin, and I are next in line. I was sent to Seattle to open a West Coast office to handle all the business your coffee culture was bringing us. It’s only me, a couple computers, and an assistant but…” His self-deprecating smile didn’t really match the rest of his confident body language.

Which was what Cynthia was staring at—his body. Especially his shoulders. His gorgeous shoulders were clad in a jacket that never wrinkled when he moved, like it was part of his skin. She was sure he had his suits made for him. The one he wore today was brown, the perfect complement to his milky-coffee skin. The fabric looked expensive, imported from someplace like Italy. His cream-colored shirt had French cuffs held together with chunky gold cuff links. She wanted to touch the fabric of the shirt; it looked so soft, so smooth. Maybe it was silk, like his tie, which she thought was Prada.

What the hell was wrong with her? First obsessing about her clothes, now his? What men wore had never been of any interest to her. Women’s clothes barely held her attention for more than the ten minutes it took for her to throw on jeans and a T-shirt every morning. She had to pull herself together. Liz and Amanda were having a normal conversation with this man while she sat like a lump, too busy thinking about things like his clothes—or what was under them—to say anything, much less anything intelligent.

“I guess you must find Seattle a bit of a change from Miami,” Amanda was saying when Cynthia tuned back into the conversation.

“You have no idea. Just about everything’s different, from the weather to people’s idea of fun to the politics. I’ve gotten to like it now. Except for the beaches. Even after two years, I still miss Florida beaches.”

The wine arrived; he tasted and approved it. The conversation went on, mostly around Cynthia not with her. She’d made some progress toward normalcy—she’d stopped obsessing about his clothes. Now, she was intent on making sure no part of her body touched any part of his. When he handed her a glass of wine, she took it without coming in contact with his hand. She kept her knees clenched tightly together and primly set to the side of her chair so there was no chance they would brush his. She avoided eye contact.

But the one thing she couldn’t get away from was the smell of his aftershave or cologne or, who knows, maybe pheromones, wafting across the table. He smelled like some exotic spice she couldn’t name. She had never, in her entire life, smelled anything that good. It was irresistible. Like every other part of him was, from the crown of his head to the justgot-out-of-bed dark stubble on his cheeks and jaw that would feel wonderfully scratchy on her skin. From the body under that custom-made suit she’d stopped thinking about until now, when she started thinking about it again, to his voice that was like a good piece of music, deep and resonant, layered with meaning. And his eyes, oh God, his eyes…

“Cyn, is something wrong? You’re so quiet.” Amanda sounded concerned.

Before she could answer, Cynthia caught the expression on Marius’s face. Damn. He knew exactly why she was quiet, why she was sitting like some well-behaved schoolgirl. It seemed those brown eyes could see into her heart and soul.

“I was thinking about a new piece I’m working on. Sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow and buried his half-smile in his glass of wine.

“Is this for my gallery or are you going to waste it on that place in Seattle where you still have your work?” Liz asked.

“It’s a commission that came from Max’s gallery, that place where the owner has been as good to me in Seattle as you’ve been to me in Portland. And didn’t I just bring you my Victorian neckpieces no one else has seen?”

“I guess I’ll take that as some sort of atonement for giving him your Cleopatra collars first. Not that anyone in Seattle would ever appreciate anything like that.”

A Cleopatra collar was exactly what Marius had commissioned from her, but demonstrating he was as smart as he was sexy, he only winked at her and stayed out of the discussion.

The conversation moved on to subjects less likely to make her discomfited. In response to his questions, Amanda explained to Marius some of the fine points of kiln-formed glass art. In return, he answered hers about coffee buying. In her usual outrageously flirty manner, Liz encouraged him to come to her gallery before he returned to Seattle. Cynthia said little unless prompted by her friends and even then made only brief comments, still tongue-tied by sitting across from him.

An hour later, Marius glanced at an expensive-looking watch, re-buttoned the top button of his shirt, tightened his tie and apologized for having to leave for a business dinner. Before he left, he shook the hand of each of the three women, seeming to linger with Cynthia longer than with the other two. At least it felt like he lingered, taking her smaller hand between both of his, holding it in what felt more like the clasp of a lover’s hand than a good-bye handshake. She noticed, as she had when they first met, that in spite of the beautiful clothes, he had calluses on his hands that could only come from some kind of physical work. It added an aspect to him that fascinated her even more.

She hoped he hadn’t noticed how her hand trembled when he held it. * Marius couldn’t believe his luck. He’d been trying to find a way to get back to the Erickson Gallery for weeks so he could do what he should have done when he’d picked up the gift for a family friend—ask the beautiful artist who’d made the piece to have dinner with him. But he’d been traveling on business for most of the past month, ending up in Portland, where he’d been bored and counting the days until he could get back to Seattle.

Until he decided to kill time before his dinner meeting with a glass of wine. And there she was.

In only two brief encounters, Cynthia Blaine had managed to intrigue him. Curvy where most of the women he’d met lately had been long and lean, her face was clean of make-up, her eyes clear of calculation about what his net worth might be. He had his pick of arm candy, but going to dinner with women who were conventionally beautiful, fashionably dressed, and often more ambitious than he was—which was saying quite a lot—had worn thin. Not that he was looking for a long-term commitment. But someone real seemed like a nice change. And Cynthia Blaine was that—real and talented and beautiful.

When he’d first met her, he’d thought she was equally attracted. But he had wondered if she’d written him off because he was obviously buying a piece of expensive jewelry for a woman even though he kept emphasizing it was for a friend, hoping she’d get the inference. Today he thought the message must have gotten through. The way she’d flushed when he smiled at her, held her body back from touching him, looked away so he wouldn’t know she’d been staring at him all seemed to say she felt the same attraction.

What he hadn’t been able to do was cut her out of her herd of friends without being too obvious or obnoxious. So, he scribbled a note on the back of a business card and left it with the server when he had the bill for the women’s drinks charged to his room. She assured him she’d get it to the woman in the purple dress with the long braid. * Marius was barely out the door before Liz turned on her friend.

“Cynthia, what the hell is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell us about him?”

“Why would I tell you about him? He was just another customer,” she replied. “Can I have the last bit of that cheese?” She reached for the plate. Liz pushed it out of her reach.

“Don’t change the subject. How could you not think we’d be interested in one of the most handsome men ever put on this earth?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tried for the cheese plate again. And failed, thanks to Liz’s determination. “I just sold him a neckpiece for his girlfriend.”

“The girlfriend part, I grant you, is a shame. But, my God, girl, just run down the list of the other virtues: killer good-looking, charming, polite, interested in what we have to say, willing to ignore phone calls while he talked to us, the good taste and money to commission work from you and buy that suit. What’s not worth talking about on that list?”

“I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Liz snorted. “Right. You were stunned into silence just sitting across from him.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Don’t bother, petal. No one will believe you. It was too obvious. Not that I blame you. You could drown in those eyes. And his smile gave me some idea of what it’ll feel like when I get old enough to have hot flashes.” She fanned herself to make her point more obvious.

“Did you notice his hands?” Amanda asked. “I love the way he talks with them. They’re so big and graceful. I bet he could palm a basketball with them.”

Cynthia’s hand was still trembling from the handshake. Oh, yeah, she’d noticed his hands all right.

“A basketball? Honey, he could palm anything I have with them,” Liz said. As the other two women burst into giggles, she added, “Please don’t repeat that in front of Collins. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor when I make comments like that.”

A half hour later, Liz went to pay the bill and learned that Marius had taken care of it, adding one more item to her list of reasons Marius Hernandez was God’s gift to the world. The three women parted at the parking garage across the street from the concert venue, Liz headed for Southwest Portland where the man she lived with waited; Amanda to Northeast Portland, her husband and her new baby, and Cynthia for the freeway back to Seattle. * The dinner hostess at the Heathman always rearranged the desk to suit the way she liked things before she started her shift. Tonight, while she was moving things around, she found a business card with a note written on the back. No one seemed to know who it was for or why it was there. She pitched it into the recycling.

What’s What with Tory Richards When I first started writing romance novels my hubby would laugh, and tell everyone he could that I wrote porn. It would have been funny, if we hadn’t lived in a retirement community. Most everyone was twenty years older than me. And though I would quickly, and adamantly swear that it was romance, not porn, I had to wonder which one of us they believed, and why did it matter. I didn’t even try to explain that I actually wrote erotic romance. We all know erotic, erotica, and porn are the same thing.

Aren’t they? So many people believe that they are. So it must be true. It’s an old debate that neither side is willing to compromise or agree on. As an erotic romance author I decided to delve more deeply into the difference between erotic and erotica. That’s called research folks, something I rarely do. My first stop was the online dictionary. Here’s what I found.

Erotica is explicitly sexual literature or art. Greek, its origin is 1850-54, and according to the World English Dictionary it’s the neuter plural of erotic. (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/erotica?s=t) I guess that means erotic is cleaner. The Encyclopedia says erotica is literary or artistic work having an erotic theme. The word typically applies to work where the sexual element is regarded as part of the larger visual aspect. Sounds like porn to me. However, the definition goes on to add that it’s usually distinguished from porn, which is understood to have sexual arousal as it’s main purpose. Well, isn’t that the same thing? Both are used to stimulate, and ultimately have the same sexual outcome.

Moving right along, I looked up erotic. It’s also Greek, and the origin is 1615-25, according to the World English Dictionary. (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/erotic?s=b) The definition is desire or giving pleasure, strong sexual desire or being sensitive to sexual stimulation, or a person who has strong sexual desires. No where did it say erotic feelings lead to sex, but love is mentioned once or twice. I kind of felt disappointed because the definition seems so blasé. In the erotic romances I read the main characters always end up having hot and heavy sex, and lots of it. If we were to go by the two very different definitions then I would say the majority of us who say we write erotic romance are in reality writing erotica.

Whew! A total surprise to me. Unless I’m way off base it’s pretty clear. Maybe most of us feel better using the word erotic because it’s cleaner, and doesn’t have the stigma attached to it that erotica and porn has.  Sticking with the World English Dictionary, my new best friend, here’s what it says about porn. An unhealthy or voyeuristic interest in a particular subject. Going on to give the examples of property or food porn. Doesn’t take much of an imagination to figure out what they mean. (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/porn?s=b) Would you like chocolate sauce with your nuts? No, that’s too tame. How about whip out that big, hard cucumber, and stick it where the sun don’t shine.

So, here’s my unproven, unsolicited, definition, not found in any dictionary. Or should I say, my opinion. The difference between porn, and erotica boils down to this, porn is just meaningless sex. If it, and by it I mean books, movies, and TV shows have plots, character building, and emotional commitments, than it’s erotica.

I do not read or write porn. It doesn’t turn me on, make me hot, or get my juices flowing. I have to have affection, bonding, a little conflict, intense attraction, and then they can go at it like bunnies. Or wolves, mountain lions, vampire bats, and zombies. Did you know there are romance books out there where zombies are doing it? But that’s a whole other article.

I hope this article clarifies the difference between porn and erotica for some of you. I know that I learned something, which we’re never too old for.

I’ve already begun writing next months article and I can promise you that the topic will surprise you, titillate you, educate you, and probably shock some of you. Until then if you’d like to learn more about me and my books, please visit my website/blog at toryrichards.com. I post something new almost every day.

BELLA KEY BY Scarlet Chastian Romance on the Go Scarlet Chastain Copyright © 2013 Chapter One Moist air hit Madison Jacobs like a hot blanket as she attempted to hail a cab outside the Miami office building. Her meeting had wrapped up sooner than expected and she’d hoped to grab an earlier flight back to Portland. Cabs whooshed by, blowing steamy exhaust-laden air over her face. She hated cities, and Miami wasn't tops on her list. She waved her arm in the air, summoning an old- fashioned checkered cab, which squealed to a stop at her feet.

“How do people handle this?” she asked the cabbie, sliding into the seat. She pinched and tugged at the placket of her blouse, allowing the sad excuse for the cab’s air conditioning to reach the inner depths of her sweat-soaked bra.

“Not from around here, huh?” The cabbie’s grin reflected from the rearview mirror, his eyes darting about eight inches lower than they should’ve been stationed.

Maddie cleared her throat, covered the opening of her blouse and pointed toward the windshield. “How about you keep your eyes straight ahead and take me to the airport? Thank you.”

“Must be a New Yorker,” the cabbie muttered under his breath.

Maddie cracked the window and shrugged. He’d been half right. She’d earned the “New Yorker” title by spending her undergrad years at NYU before taking the job at Milano and Jones Public Relations. After a few years in New York specializing in creating the marketing campaigns for a few B-listed romance authors, she hit pay- dirt. Her hard work had finally paid off when a couple of successful advertising campaigns catapulted her clients to the top of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Maddie soon morphed into M&J’s rep-in-demand. She caught the attention of the company’s C-Suiters who offered her a transfer to the Portland office, as most of her clients lived in the Pacific Northwest. The promotion couldn’t have come at a better time.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her phone from her purse to check her voice mails. A groan erupted from her lips as she squinted at yet another message from Tim. Better to get it over now, she thought. She slid her finger over the message button and pinched the bridge of her nose as she held the phone to her ear.

"Hey Mads, it's me again. Listen. Can we talk when you get back? I know you said you needed space but I don't get it. You up and left without so much as a good-bye. Anyway, let's talk. Okay? I'm sure we can work it out.”

Tim had a point. She hauled her ass out of New York so fast, no one saw it coming, especially Tim. She sucked at breakups.

What better way to get rid of a guy she would never love than move across the country? Three thousand miles seemed like enough distance to gum up a relationship. Truth be told, she had no idea why she wasn’t feeling a connection with Tim. They were perfect on paper. At least, that was what her mother said every chance she had. Maddie made the mistake of

bringing her hotshot Columbia Law graduate of a boyfriend home for Christmas which made her mother practically do cartwheels down the street.

She tapped the delete button on her phone and dropped it back into her bag. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back on the fake leather seats.

"I hope you're on your way to someplace nice. You look like you need to get away," the driver’s voice called from the front seat.

She opened her eyes and stared at the brown eyes looking at her from the rearview mirror. "Huh? What?" She’d hoped her curt tone relayed her ‘I’m not interested small talk’ mood.

"Sorry. I just mean you look like you could use a vacation." She snorted. "Yeah, vacation. Good one." The cab pulled up to the Departures gate and Maddie handed him her corporate credit card. "Have a good vacation, Miss." He handed her the fare slip. Maddie signed for the charges and took back her card. "I'm not—Oh, never mind."

The heat hit her like a wet rug as she grabbed her overnight bag and strode through the airport doors to the ticket agent.

"I'd like to get on an earlier flight to Portland."

The agent took her ticket and after a few clicks on her keyboard, shook her head. "Sorry Miss Jacobs. There are no earlier flights; the one you're booked on is the next one out."

"Figures," Maddie grumbled under her breath.

She took her ticket back and walked through the terminal spotting a number of bars she wouldn’t mind wasting a couple of hours in. She shrugged and shuffled into the Caribbean Breeze. "Yeah, some vacation. I may as well make the most of it."

Maddie slid onto a barstool and ordered a piña colada.

"Starting your vacation early?" asked the bartender.

"No, this—" She pointed to her drink when he set it in front of her. "This is my vacation. How pathetic is that?"

Looking at the many variously sized television screens, her gaze fell on one in particular, a commercial for Bella Key, the farthest island of the Florida Keys. Couples frolicked through the sand and sea. They lounged together on hammocks and drank fruity drinks by the pool. She looked longingly at the screen.

"Do you believe in signs?" Maddie asked the bartender.

"Signs, as in you're fated to do something because of related events?"

"Yeah, something like that, do you believe in them?" "Actually, Miss, I do." What the hell? Why not. "Hmm. Well, then, I'm going to finish this drink and go see someone about a rental car. How much do I owe you?" After settling the bill, she added an extra ten to the tip and slid off the barstool. She found the bank of car rental counters next to baggage claim and approached the nearest one.

"Hello," Maddie smiled at the surfer dude wannabe behind the counter. "I’d like a car for the weekend. What the heck, make it a convertible if you have it."

He offered her a warm smile. “Let’s see what I have to give you.” After a few taps and an exchange of her driver’s license and credit card, he handed her a set of keys. “Would you like a GPS unit?”

“Sure, why not.”

Pulling the dashboard GPS from a drawer, he switched it on and swiped his finger over the screen. “Let me program your destination for you. Looks like this one is set to Bella Key. Where are you off to?”

She smiled and extended her hand. "I’ll take it just how it is."

On her way to find the cherry red convertible, she pulled out her phone and pushed the speed dial number programed for her boss’s private line. Relieved to make it to the third ring, she knew the call would head to voicemail. "Hey Diane. The meeting went well and Anderson will send us the signed contract next week. I know this is last minute, but I'm taking the rest of the week off. I've decided to treat myself to a little side trip before returning. I'll see you Monday." Maddie tapped the screen and grinned. She'd never done anything remotely unplanned like this. She had no vacation clothes with her, no hotel reservations and no idea what she was doing. Yet, she couldn’t feel more alive.

She patiently listened as the rental car attendant gave her a quickie lesson on how to lower the roof of her convertible. "Be careful,” he said as he closed the door. “There's a storm headed our way in a few days." Storms were the last thing on her mind. She’d be damned if she’d allow a little storm to keep her from her impromptu adventure.

Within fifteen minutes she turned toward Highway A1A and headed south with the wind in her hair. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she whizzed by the first sign for the Florida Keys. Her fingers strummed the steering wheel to the beat of a Top Forty song as she inhaled the sweet scent of ocean air. Stopping at the Visitor's Center, she stretched her legs, kicked off her heels and threw the confining pumps into the back seat. She slipped on the cheap pair of flip-flops purchased at the airport and swore they would be her footwear of choice for the duration of the trip. Approaching a white haired woman sitting behind the large counter in the center of the room, she scanned the colorful brochures, picking one for Bella Key. "Hi, can you recommend a place to stay on Bella?"

"What are you looking for? Hotel or a Bed & Breakfast, dear?"

Maddie considered the question. "I'd say B&B. I've never stayed in one before."

The woman took the pamphlet from her hands and flipped it open. "I'd recommend this, this, oh and this one," she said circling each of her choices with a red pen.

"Thank you," Maddie said offering the woman a smile.

She walked back outside and enjoyed the tropical breeze flowing through her hair and the sound her flip-flops made on the crushed shell walkway. Opening her door, she pulled out her iPad and laid it on the hood of her car. She typed in the name of the first place the woman circled. It was tiny and located in the middle of the small island. Too crowded, she thought. A beach view was a necessity. After all, if she was going to do this, she might as well go all out.

The next B&B was a butter yellow two-story Victorian style house on the beach. The advertisement stated, "Come to the end of the world. Make Casa Bonita your first and last stop on Bella Key." Anchoring her hand on her hip, she smiled. Casa Bonita, here I come.

Maddie weaved the convertible along the windy streets of the small Key. Palms swung overhead in the lazy breeze, washing peaceful vibes over her body. Following the only main street of the island, she pulled alongside a dead end sign

and peered at the sea beyond the barricade. Scanning the street, she figured she'd missed the B&B and shifted the car into reverse when she spotted the sunny yellow exterior of a home resembling the picture on the brochure. Her elation fizzled as she pulled into the driveway and saw ‘closed’ dangling from Casa Bonita’s wooden sign. A woman carrying grocery bags from her car caught Maddie’s attention. She pulled in closer to the house and shifted the car into park; her angry bladder threatened a revolt from the grande mocha Frappuccino she bought on the main key.

Pushing open the car door, the white gravel of the driveway crunched under her flip-flops as she stood. "Sorry to bother you, Miss. I didn't realize the Inn was closed."

The woman cocked her head and smiled. Dropping the bags back into the trunk of her car, she approached Maddie’s convertible. "Yeah. Sorry about that. The A/C conked out last week and I had to cancel all my reservations. I thought I reached everyone." She furrowed her brow and glanced at the rental car. “Did you come far?”

"Oh no. I didn’t make reservations; I took my chances and dropped by. It was kind of a last minute decision to come here. I was on my way back home from a business trip when I decided to take a mini vacation.” Maddie gazed wistfully at the flowers leading to the entrance of the B&B. “It seemed to be the perfect place to hide out for a few days and clear my head."

The woman flipped her long dark hair over her tanned shoulder and placed her hands on her slender hips. "Now I feel really sorry. I'd love to have you as a guest but I’m afraid the upstairs guest rooms will be uncomfortable without air conditioning. I can recommend another place if you'd like."

"That'd be great." Maddie pressed her legs together and shifted from foot to foot. "Can I trouble you for the use of your bathroom? This frap went right through me." Maddie jiggled the empty plastic cup in her hand.

The woman laughed. "Of course. Come on in." She led her through the back door, which opened into a comfortable kitchen complete with shiny stainless steel appliances. Maddie looked around approvingly before the woman pointed to the swinging door.

"It's right out that door into the dining room to the right."

"Thanks." Maddie walked through the swinging door into the dining room containing four tables, which she assumed corresponded with the number of guest rooms. She strode into the kitchen a few moments later, disappointed that the B&B was closed, as it was the perfect spot for her stay.

"Thanks again. You're a lifesaver." She laughed and gave the woman a quick bow.

"Glad to help," she said easily. "I'm Soledad, Sunny for short. Welcome to my treasured pearl, Casa Bonita." She turned on her heels and swung around with the grace of a dancer.

"Good to meet you, I’m Maddie. Your place is beautiful and I'd never guess your air conditioning wasn’t working. It’s very comfortable in here."

Sunny sighed. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't even have it on. Tourists like the A/C, especially when sleeping at night. The guest rooms upstairs do get a little stuffy. This couldn't have happened at the worse time, too. There's still a couple weeks left of tourist season," she said with a shrug.

"Can't you get it fixed right away?"

"Out here everything moves slow, especially workers. We're waiting for a part to be delivered from Miami."

Maddie nodded and scanned the kitchen. "Your oven is making me salivate. I just have a little electric one back home and I love to cook."

“May I offer you something to drink?”

“As long as the bathroom offer is still open.” The two women chuckled and Sunny gestured for Maddie to sit at the small kitchen table. Sunny yanked open the doors of her monstrous stainless-steel refrigerator and pulled a glass pitcher from the top shelf. “Sweet tea?” She turned and held the pitcher up.

“Perfect.”

"Where are you from, Maddie?" Sunny asked, pouring two tall glasses of tea.

"Portland." “Maine?” Maddie took a long sip and licked her lips. “Delicious.

Portland, Oregon.” "You're a long way from home. What brings you to Bella Key?" "It's a funny story, actually. Business brought me to Miami, then I was due to fly home today, but something told me I needed a break. A break from everything..."

"I'll tell you what. Why don't you stay here? Since you're from Portland, I have a feeling the lack of A/C won't affect you.

You can take the small room next to mine down here on the first floor. You'll never know we don't have air conditioning.

The breeze is fantastic. The room is free of charge."

Maddie's stomach jumped. "Really? I'd love to stay but I'd have to pay you. I wouldn't feel right staying for free."

Sunny regarded her for a moment. Her eyes lit up as she snapped her fingers. "You like to cook, right? How about you do the cooking while you're here. It'd give me a vacation from the oven. Feels like that's all I've been doing lately. The B&B has been filled to capacity for weeks."

Maddie mulled the offer over and nodded. "Okay. You have a deal."

Sunny smiled and offered an outstretched hand. "Come on. Let's get your things and the rest of my groceries.” *** An hour later, her suitcase sat in a small guest room on the first floor and Maddie stood at the gleaming countertop tapping her finger on the granite deciding what to prepare for dinner. Sunny reached over Maddie and pulled two plates from the cabinet, placing them on the kitchen table. Maddie glanced over her shoulder. “Do you live here alone?”

“Si, it’s just me. Things didn’t work out with my partner, and she left a few months ago. I didn’t realize what a help she was around this place.”

“That’s tough to lose a business partner.”

Sunny snorted. “Not business partner, chica. Slone was my girlfriend.”

Maddie froze as heat crept over her cheeks. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you meant...”

Sunny glided past Maddie and pulled open a drawer. Silverware clanged together as she removed the forks and knives. The skirt of her dress tickled Maddie’s calves as she strode back to the table. “No worries. I know what you meant. I’m so used

to living in the Keys where half of the female population are lesbians. Most visitors assume single women are of that persuasion.”

Maddie busied herself with the wrapped seafood bundles. She opened the white paper to find two of the finest tuna steaks she’d ever seen. Grasping the pink flesh between her thumb and index finger, she flapped it at Sunny. “These look fabulous and I know the perfect recipe for them.”

“Yet another perk for living down here. You can’t find fresher seafood.”

“Were you expecting guests? There are two huge hunks of fish here.”

Sunny let out a sigh. “I’m just so used to buying for more than one person; I can’t bring myself to buy one of anything. Did you notice all the duplicates in the grocery bags?” To prove her point, she walked to the refrigerator. “See? A couple of bottles of orange juice, two pounds of butter and—” She pulled the freezer drawer and reached inside. “—a pair of Ben and Jerry’s pints.”

The two giggled in unison as Maddie took the pint-sized containers from Sunny. “That’s a lot of ice cream. Good thing I showed up to stop you from polishing one of these off, huh?”

“Who’s stopping me? One for me and one for you.” Sunny playfully bumped her hip.

“I’d better hide these.” Maddie winked and hurried to the freezer, tucking the containers in the back corner.

Sunny leaned her back on the counter and folded her arms across her chest, surveying Maddie as she walked back to the stove. “I’m glad you showed up,” Sunny said, nodding.

“Me too. It was meant to be, if only to dine on this perfect piece of fish.” Maddie giggled at her joke.

While preparing dinner, the two women talked easily about their jobs and careers. Maddie was surprised to learn Sunny worked in publishing while living in Miami a few years ago. Soon, Maddie carried two dishes piled high with seared tuna, smashed potatoes and fresh sautéed spinach to the table. Sunny took one of the plates from her hands and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. “This smells incredible.”

“I hope you don’t mind your fish raw. It’s sushi grade and I love it seared.” Maddie glanced at her wistfully.

“I like it that way too, and I have the perfect thing to go with it.” Sunny jumped from her chair and sashayed to the refrigerator, the skirt of her sundress molding perfectly to the curve of her hips. She grabbed a bottle of wine and a to-go container from the shelf.

She handed Maddie the wine bottle, which Maddie uncorked, pouring two generous glasses while Sunny removed the plastic top from the container. “Wasabi from the sushi I had last night.” She spooned a small dollop and pointed it toward Maddie’s plate. Maddie held up her hand. “None for me, too spicy.”

“Oh chica, you must try it.” Sunny scooped a small bit onto the tine of her fork and spread a green smear on the corner of her fish. Piercing a bite-sized piece onto her fork, she lifted it to Maddie’s mouth.

Maddie raised an eyebrow and examined the colorful morsel.

“Go ahead. This is your weekend of firsts. How about starting with a bit of spice?” Sunny’s line of vision shifted from the end of her outstretched fork to lock on Maddie’s eyes.

“Okay.” Maddie took a deep breath, leaned closer and allowed Sunny to feed her. The cool fork tines slid over her bottom lip when the bit of wasabi hit the roof of her mouth. She chewed slowly.

Sunny placed her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in her interlaced fingers. “So?” Maddie continued to chew. “Mmmm. Oh!” The fingers of one hand covered her lips, while she grabbed her wine glass with her other hand. Fanning her face, she gulped a hefty swig of wine. “Wow! That has a kick. You don’t notice it right away but then it packs a punch. My mouth’s on fire...but I like it.” She smiled from the rim of her wine glass as she took another sip.

Sunny flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder and cocked her head. “See, I told you. There’s something to be said for trying things beyond your comfort zone.” Sunny studied Maddie’s face and cocked her eyebrow. “Speaking of being out of your zone... what really brings you out here?”

Maddie took another bite and chewed slowly before answering. “I just needed to escape for a few days. I moved to Portland a few weeks ago and thought that’d solve problems I’ve had with a relationship, but it just seemed to make it worse.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to run away from issues instead of dealing with them head on, chica. Hiding from problems is never a good idea.”

“I know. I just needed some time to think. There’s this guy I dated back in New York. On paper, he’s perfect. Columbia Law, promising career, good looking, treats me like a princess. Perfect.”

“But?” “I don’t know. He just doesn’t do it for me. He hinted around about an engagement and I freaked out. It doesn’t help that my mother’s on my case about settling down with someone. She brings my biological clock into every conversation we have. So when the Portland transfer came up at work, I jumped at it. Now, I’m getting even more pressure from back home. I just can’t deal with it.” Maddie leaned back and drank the last of her wine.

Sunny refilled both of their glasses. “What is it about this guy that doesn’t scratch your itch?”

Maddie chuckled and glanced at the woman. Her eyes focused on Sunny’s full lips as she sipped at her wine. Her heartbeat quickened and she averted her eyes to the window. “It’s so beautiful here. You must pinch yourself every time you wake up in the morning to be able to live and work on Fantasy Island.”

“You’re avoiding my question, you know?”

Maddie stood and reached for Sunny’s plate. “I’m going to take a walk and watch the rest of the sunset.”

Sunny’s delicate fingers encircled her wrist, stopping her from taking the plate. “You cooked, I’ll clean up. Go on out to the beach and enjoy the sunset.”

The Georgia Corbin by Kara Leigh Miller Ali Philips never thought anything could be more devastating than the day Levi and Tucker Corbin, her two best friends—her only friends—moved away. Three years passed without a single phone call, text message, or email from them and she’s resolved to the fact that she will probably never see them again. Until one morning when she comes face-to-face with Levi Corbin in physics class.

Little does she know, the Corbins have returned to Haldeen with only one thing on their minds: winning Ali’s heart. Ali soon finds herself in the middle of a love triangle she doesn’t want any part of. As she tries to reclaim the friendships she’s lost and to adjust to the unfamiliar feelings she’s having, she struggles with making the one decision that will forever change their lives: Levi or Tucker Corbin?

She’s always had a special bond with Tucker and feels most comfortable when she’s with him. But Levi brings her to life in a way she didn’t think was possible and makes her feel things she didn’t think she would ever feel.

Torn between the two, Ali is certain of only one thing–by the time it’s over, she’ll lose one of her best friends.

Excerpt:

Physics lab first thing Monday morning?

Somebody in the administration office had to have hated me. There was no other explanation for it. I should’ve been used to it by then, but I wasn't. It sucked. Then again, every class that wasn't an English class sucked, in my opinion. The first bell had already sounded, but the hallways were still full of procrastinating students. Returning to school after a week-long break was always hard.

"Hey, Cass," I said, catching up to her before she turned the corner. "Where're you going?"

"Trig." She made a sour face. "You'd think you'd know that by now. You ask me every Monday."

I frowned. Cass was in a bitchy mood today. "Have fun." I was eager to get away from her attitude.

"Wanna hang out after school today?"

"Don't you have to babysit your brother?"

Cass smiled mischievously.

"Nice try," I said, "but I've told you. After last time, I'm never helping you babysit again." Last time Cass had conned me into babysitting with her, it'd been a friggin' nightmare. Her little sister had been sitting on my lap, bouncing up and down and laughing when she threw her body back, head butting me. She'd given me a bloody nose. It'd hurt so much it'd brought tears to my eyes. So I'd gone to the bathroom to clean up and change my bloodied shirt. Cass's nine year old brother and his friend spied on me changing and using the toilet. Never. Again.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, my nose was swollen and my cheekbone was black and blue for days after.

Shelby had decided to tell the entire school that she'd kicked my ass.

"C'mon," Cass begged. "You know how much I hate babysitting alone."

"See ya later." I laughed and waved as I walked into my class.

Cass peeked her head in the room. "Will you at least think about it?"

"Fine. I'll think about it." I'd said it just to shut her up, but there wasn't anything to think about. There was no way in hell I was going to put myself in harm's way like that again.

"Well I'll be...don't look as though this class is gonna suck as much as I thought," Brody said, walking towards me.

I smiled. "Hey, Brody." He sat beside me. "Since when are you in this class?"

"I was doing an independent study so I could get some credits for college to help me earn a scholarship, but I was failing. Coach told me if I didn't get my grade up I'd be kicked off the baseball team," Brody said with a shrug. "I was just going to drop the class but apparently it's too late for that."

"Mr. Nash?" Mrs. Dolgen said. She was the only science teacher in the high school and not many students liked her. A lot of people said it was because she gave out detention a little too generously and without good reason. I'd gotten it from her a few times, but overall she wasn't so bad.

"Here." Brody raised his hand.

"Yes, I can see that. Would you mind taking that seat over there?" She pointed to a table on the opposite side of the room.

"Do I have to?" Brody whined.

I stifled a giggle. Last year Brody and I had Biology together, and Mrs. Dolgen was always yelling at us for goofing around. It was probably best that she separated us, but that meant I was still going to be the only one in class without a lab partner. I'd been doing the same work as everyone else all year, but I'd been doing it alone. I should ask Mrs. Dolgen for some extra credit. Although, she'd probably assign me detention for being disrespectful to a teacher. She was famous for that.

"Yes," Mrs. Dolgen said. "Last time you and Ms. Philips were lab partners there were problems."

"I have to disagree, Mrs. Dolgen. I enjoyed being Ali's lab partner last year. We didn't have any problems at all. In fact, I think we worked very well together," Brody said.

"And therein lies the problem. You two worked a little too well together." She came over and stood in front of our table, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

I held my breath. Being Brody's lab partner again would be fun, but he was pushing his luck arguing with Mrs. Dolgen, and the last thing I needed was to get detention again.

Mrs. Dolgen looked back and forth between me and Brody. "Consider today a trial run. I'm doing you a favor allowing you to join class so late, Mr. Nash. Don't make me regret it."

Sizzling Scoop Reviewers (Sizzling Hot Books and Books-n-Kisses) received complimentary copy of the book in exchange for an honest review. This review is my own opinion and not a paid review.

Back in Bliss (Nights in Bliss, Colorado #9) by Sophie Oak It was like Christmas morning when I found Back in Bliss on my e-reader. I couldn’t wait to unwrap my present and begin reading. I stayed up much later than I should have on a work night to finish it up. That’s how good Back in Bliss is.

Logan Green is back in Bliss, but only for a few weeks to help out at the sheriff’s office. Everything changes when Seth Stark strolls into town with Georgia Dawson on his arm.

Seth’s arrival is anything but a happy accident. He always dreamed of a big house on the river and a wife he could share with his best friend, Logan. After building a software empire, his only goal has been to make that dream come true. He just needed the perfect woman. Georgia is still haunted by the dark, troubled Dom who saved her life. She can’t get Logan out of her head. Her boss brought her to Bliss to help him outfit his new summer home, but when Logan Green walks through the door she discovers Seth has something different in mind. Seth has a plan for their mutual happily ever after, but he never dreamed that coming home would put all their lives in danger Back in Bliss is proof that love can conquer all. Logan and Seth have been best friends since childhood. They consider themselves brothers. But Logan is facing demons after being captured and tortured by the Russian mob.

He met Georgia in a previous Sophie Oak book, but let Georgia go because he was so full of pain that he didn’t believe he deserved her. Through some machinations by Seth, Georgia ends up working as Seth’s assistant. Seth believes that he is watching over Georgia for his best friend, but he ultimately falls in love with her. Now, he just needs to convince Logan that the three of them can be the perfect family.

Georgia is a delightful, complex woman. She has four older brothers who have always taken care of her and she enjoys her rich, spoiled princess persona. But underneath that all, she just wants to be somebody’s “someone special.” She loves both Seth and Logan because together they can provide her with everything she needs. Georgia just needs to believe in her own self-worth and fight for what she wants. Her character development throughout the book is a pleasure to watch. I believed that Georgia was able to grow into a woman who earned the love and respect of the entire town of Bliss.

Logan is a broken man when Back in Bliss begins. He is full of such anger and pain that he lashes out at everyone, even those who love him the most. As the details of Logan’s torture are revealed, you better understand why he is having such a difficult time letting go of the anger. I found myself crying along with Logan as he finally allowed love to heal his wounds. Logan’s story and subsequent healing is one of the most poignant stories that I have read.

I am greatly impressed by Ms. Oak’s ability to make Logan seem even more masculine as he gets in touch with his feelings and deals with his fears. Bravo!

Seth reminds me of a little boy who doesn’t understand why everyone won’t just do what he tells them to do since he knows what’s best. His own growth into a man who learns to listen to and understand his partners’ wants and needs just make Seth even sexier.

Amidst all this overwhelmimg emotion is some great, hot sex! The bedroom scenes offer not one, but two hot men to dominate Georgia and show her that she is special.

Sophie Oak has created an amazing extended cast of characters. Returning to Bliss is like coming home. It’s an amazing place where ménage is the norm and the women pride themselves on becoming members of the “I Shot the Son of a Bitch!” club. I loved revisiting those whom I fell in love with in previous books and seeing where they are now. And I am intrigued by the future story for Nell and Henry that has been hinted at.

Back in Bliss is the ninth book in the Bliss, Colorado series. You do not need to have read the others in order to fully appreciate Back in Bliss. However, if you fall in love with this amazing town like I did, you won’t be able to stop yourself from going back and reading them all. But at least you will have something to do while you wait for the next book. Trust me, you want to be Back in Bliss!

Saved by His Submissive by Angel Payne The day that Saved By His Submissive (The W.I.L.D. (Warriors Intense in Love & Domination) Boys of Special Forces) by Angel Payne became available I bought it. I have read several of Ms. Payne’s books so I had high expectations. I am so happy that this book did not disappoint.

“Garrett Hawkins is the most valuable asset to his Special Forces unit—because frankly, the guy doesn’t care if he lives or dies anymore. Since the love of his life, Sage Weston, was kidnapped and killed with her medical unit a year ago, Garrett has turned the shell of his soul into the impenetrable armor of a finely-tuned fighting machine. Being the first tapped for the unit’s craziest missions is just fine by him. The less time for memories, and the agony they carve into his soul, the better.

It’s a plan that works—until one night, deep in the jungles of Thailand, Garrett’s world is upended when memories become reality.

Sage and her teammate, believed dead, are very much alive. Only now that Sage is back in his arms, Garrett doesn’t know what to do.

He has changed in dramatic and daunting ways, especially in the darker tastes of his passion. If he touches Sage again, he’ll want to claim her, restrain her…dominate her.

Is Sage’s love strong enough to let Garrett back in not only as her fiancé, but her Dominant? Can she trust that visiting the new shadows of his life will lead her to ecstasy and not ruin? Or can it be that Garrett’s discipline is exactly what her soul needs to find its way back to life—and love—once again?”

Saved by His Submissive provides a refreshing change to the standard romance novel. Most romance novels follow the standard formula – boy meets girl, they fall in love, have conflict, resolve it and live happily ever after.

But we know that the reality is that even couples in love still struggle as time and events change them. This book looks at what happens when a couple in love faces one of the biggest challenges possible.

Garrett has spent the past year believing that the love of his life was killed. This belief has caused him to close off his heart and bring darkness into his world. A miracle occurs and Sage is alive and back in Garrett’s arms. But Garrett struggles as he tries to reconcile his new sexual interests with his desire to cherish and protect the woman he loves. It’s often difficult to love ourselves or understand how others can accept and love us and Angel Payne tackles that concept with great success.

I truly have one criticism. While it was obvious how Garrett was changed by Sage’s abduction and presumed death, it was not as obvious how Sage was affected. Based upon all that she had endured, she seemed too well adjusted. We see Garrett’s struggle as he learns to accept his dominant side, but I would have liked to see more of Sage’s struggle to adjust to being back.

Ultimately Saved by His Submissive made me smile, it made me laugh and it made me cry. You can’t ask for more than that from a book. It’s always good to find an author that you can count on for a great read. After reading Saved by His Submissive, I have added Ms. Payne to the short list of authors who I will automatically buy a book from. I can’t wait to read the next in the series!

Pursued by the Prisoner by Ann Mayburn Pursued by the Prisoner is an erotic short story about a married couple living out a wife’s sexual fantasy. I found myself quickly immersed in this sexy romp.

Mary has always fantasized about a dangerous escaped prisoner kidnapping her and forcing her to submit to his brutal, pent-up desires. When she receives an invitation from the Institute of Women’s Sexual Satisfaction to live out that fantasy in one of their research facilities, she jumps at the chance. Now she just has to convince her gentle giant of a husband to take control and make her his willing love slave.

Mary and her husband Sean are a happily married couple, but Mary has been hiding a secret fantasy. She has erotic dreams of being kidnapped and sexually tormented by an escaped prisoner. Sean is an ex-football player and looks like the guy from the wrong side of the tracks. He has always been careful and gentle with the woman he loves. Sean wants to give Mary this experience but he is afraid to hurt her. After a thoughtful discussion, Sean agrees to Mary’s request. What he doesn’t expect is to enjoy the fantasy as much as his wife.

Pursued by the Prisoner may only be a novella, but it was an exciting read. Once I started reading, I could not put it down. Ms. Mayburn packs a lot of spark and magic into this story. The love scenes are hot and erotic and they burn up each page. I love that Pursued by the Prisoner involved a married couple secure in their love for each other. The actual emotions involved only enhance each steamy sex scene. The relationship between Mary and Sean was believable and their chemistry leaped off the page. If you are looking for a quick read to get your pulse racing, then I would heartily recommend Pursued by the Prisoner.

Kindred Blood, III: The First by Dawne’ Dominique Kindred Blood, III: The First by Dawne’ Dominique is the third installment in The First series. Kindred Blood, III: The First picks up where Dark Diary II: The First left off. After Aiden and Daniella took care of the vampire behind the serial murders things seemed alright but their new found happiness may be in jeopardy. When they travel to England to take care of business they may get more than they bargained for?

There is nothing thicker—or stronger—than kindred blood.Being married in Scotland sounds like the perfect romantic getaway, doesn’t it? For Daniella Rolfe and Aiden Blackmore, the nightmare they’d left behind was just the beginning. When Aiden is kidnapped, Daniella will go to any lengths to ensure he’s brought safely back to her, no matter the amount of blood to be shed. Together with Spencer Dalton, a private investigator she hired to help find Aiden, they begin to unravel more than they bargained for. Broken vows are the least of Daniella’s worries now.

Daniella feels really bad for the loss in the Talbot family and she is not just going to send condolences she is going to visit them in England. She also has some business to take care of while she is there and the Talbot’s have been key in handling her business for many hundreds of years. They are one of the few humans she does trust. They have proven themselves trustworthy. When they get to England there are a few surprises waiting for her and Aiden, starting with him being kidnapped. Who is behind the kidnapping? How will she find him?

Daniella hires Spencer Daltan, a local private investigator, to help her find Aiden. She knew that he was the one to hire from the moment she saw him. She could sense that he was trustworthy and that he would do anything necessary to find Aiden. They had a certain kinship from the beginning. Dalton was good at helping her find the facts that will lead her to Aiden. He was also good at not asking too many questions that she didn’t want to answer. During the time they spend together they develop a deep friendship she cares about him. When they both come face to face with danger what will happen? Will he pay the price for their friendship? Will she be left feeling guilty for another life? Or will they be able to save Aiden?

I really enjoyed Kindred Blood, III The First. It was full of action just like the previous two installments in The First series. I enjoyed the new characters as well. I think that Dalton was a good addition to the cast. He was a good guy and he was good at his job. I think he fit well into the storyline. I am not sure that I would not ask a ton of questions in his place though. He suspected things were not quite as they seemed and I think I would just come out and ask Daniella what was going on point blank. Kindred Blood, III The First was a book that kept me turning the pages because there was no loll in the plot. I would highly recommend Kindred Blood, The First to anyone who enjoys paranormal romances that are fast paced and full of action.

Hot Blooded by Jessica McClain After finishing Full Blooded last year, I was dying to read Hot Blooded and Amanda Carlson doesn’t disappoint with this exciting new novel. Jessica is on a quest to save her mate, Rourke, from the clutches of the evil goddess, Selene, who happens to be hiding out in her mountain lair. To get to Rourke, Jessica must battle through the dangerous supernatural traps that Selene has set for her, meaning to kill everyone in its path. Selene won’t give up Rourke without a fight and Jessica is willing to do anything to be reunited with her mate.

It hasn’t been the best week for Jessica McClain. Her newly found mate has been kidnapped by a Goddess hell-bent on revenge, and Jessica is positive she can save him. But being the only female werewolf in town comes with its own set of rules and powers...if only she understood them. Aided by two vamps, two loyal Pack members, and one very reluctant human, Jessica must rescue her man while coming to terms with what being a wolf really means.

I loved this book so much! Hot Blooded picks up right after the events of Full Blooded and this book is filled with non-stop action. Jessica is trying to come to terms with her new found supernatural abilities and decipher the alleged prophecy that claims that a female wolf will rule all. The problem is that she has to get her mate back and then she will be able to sort out all the rest. I just loved Jessica’s personality and I instantly related to her. She would do anything to find Rourke and bring him home safely but was afraid to lose any of her close friends in the process.

This book was enjoyable from beginning to end and we learn so much more about Jessica and how her new powers affect the wolf pack. I also love the refreshing take on the werewolf folklore and I am excited to see where Ms. Carlson goes with this in further books. I can’t wait to read Cold Blooded later this year and Amanda Carlson is destined to be a big name in the paranormal genre.

It’s been way too long since I’ve read a book that literally brought tears to my eyes, so a big congratulations is in order for Ms. Dover for officially breaking my dry spell! Love’s Second Chance was a beautifully written, heart-wrenching love story, that will leave the true romantics swooning, and the non-romantics wondering if it would be okay to swoon just this once. I adored everything about Love’s Second Chance and have officially found myself an auto-buy author in L.P. Dover now.

Korinne Anders had it all. She had the perfect job, the perfect house, and the perfect husband. When tragedy strikes, her world takes a devastating turn.

Six months after losing her husband to a car accident, Korinne vows it to herself never to love again. If she doesn’t allow another man in her heart, then there’s no reason for her to feel the pain of loss. This plan seems to work, but is put to the test when Korinne’s best friend can’t stand to see her suffering any longer. Korinne’s long-time friend, Jenna Perry, has an idea and it involves helping her friend find the spark of life in her soul no matter what it takes. Korinne didn’t know that Jenna’s plan meant bringing back a past love, a second chance with the man that Korinne had to leave in college, but always kept a place for in her heart. When Galen Matthews learns of Korinne’s loss and that she’s finally moved back home, he wants nothing more than to be there for her. The love he felt for Korinne years ago has never left him, and now he’s given a second chance to not only mend her heart of her loss, but to also continue the love they shared in the past. Will his love and determination make her strong enough to give fate a second chance, or will her fear of losing another love make her run away? What will Korinne do when she’s faced with a love so powerful that no matter what she does there’s nowhere to run from it?

After the unexpected and tragic death of her husband, Korrine is determined to get past her grief and move on with her life. But the guilt that comes along with overcoming the tragedy, makes that an almost impossible feat. Enter Galen Matthews: the long lost love from her past. (and the one man who might just set her heart back on it’s rightful course again.) He was her college sweetheart, but also someone she never actually fell out of love with.

Now all she’s got to do is let him convince her that the time for them again, is now.

Galen has always been in love with Korrine, and no other woman has ever sparked his insides like she has. And now that he’s got her back in his life, he’s bound and determined to hang on to her, and never ever let go. But getting her to agree that they were meant to be during her grieving process proves to be difficult. It’s a good thing

Galen isn’t the type to give up. And no matter how many times Korrine has to take a step back from him, he’s always going to be there for her in whatever sense that she needs, whether it’s a lover, or as a friend.

I adored the characters in this book. They were real, and heartfelt, and very believable. Korrine broke my heart, but then again, she frustrated me in the sense that I wanted her to let go of her grief and embrace the happiness offered to her! But it was more than obvious that her grief was so real, and raw, making recovery almost impossible. I felt everyone of her emotions though, often times feeling the tears that accompanied the emotions as well. But when she did manage to break free, she proved to be a woman who definitely knew how to stand on her own two feet, and I admired her greatly for the way she held her head high and never let the grief override her completely. I also fell madly, head over heels in love with Galen. What a sweetie he was! Full of so much compassion and love that there was no way I could have asked for a better hero in this story. Oh! And it didn’t hurt that he was oh-so-sexy too. . .

So, let me just say this: if you are looking for a book that will knock your socks off with its sexy times, and then make you cry bucket-loads of tears a few paragraphs later, then Love’s Second Chance is certainly the perfect novel for you! Love’s Second Chance was like a breath of fresh air to me, even though the sadness weighed heavily on my heart throughout its length. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but to me, Love’s Second Chance was honest, and real, and something I don’t get to read enough about anymore.

Ms. Dover chose to write Love’s Second Chance in dual first person point’s of view, and often times in adult contemporary romances, I find that to be a bit off-putting. But I have to say that I wouldn’t have changed it for the world in this book! I was so far suckered into these character’s lives, and their journey to finding happiness, that I lost track of everything and anything around me. (Including my kids and hubby. Oops!) But to me, that just shows how amazing this book was. So yes, I one hundred percent times ten recommend Love’s Second Chance, but please do yourself a favor, and grab a box of tissues if you plan on reading Love’s Second Chance, because I’m more than positive you’re definitely going to need them.

It Had to Be You by Jill Shalvis All Luke wants is a nice peaceful and quiet three weeks off. This is the only reason he is back in Lucky Harbor. But Luke finds himself drawn to his new feisty roommate. But when Ali is accused of stealing Luke’s detective skills will not let him walk away from her but only until the charges are dropped and she is safe.

Available for a limited time, this special bonus edition of IT HAD TO BE YOU includes Blue Flame, a free, full-length novel also by Jill Shalvis.

Ali Winters is not having a good day. Her boyfriend left her, everyone in town thinks she's a thief, and now she's about to be kicked out of her home. Her only shot at keeping a roof over her head and clearing her name is to beg for help from a police detective who's as sexy as he is stern....

After a high-profile case goes wrong, Luke Hanover returns to his hometown for some peace and quiet. Instead he finds a bombshell brunette in a heap of trouble.

As he helps Ali put her world back together, the pieces of Luke's own life finally seem to fall into place. Is this the start of a sizzling fling? Or are Luke and Ali on the brink of something big in a little town called Lucky Harbor?

Love, love, love being back in Lucky Harbor. Jill always does such a great job of sucking me into the world of Lucky Harbor.

Honestly I have not read a book in this series that I didn’t love.

Who doesn’t love an extremely hot man in a uniform with a tortured soul? One who has no chance of saving his heart from the half naked woman screaming on the phone in his kitchen.