Lia Risso walked in on her fiancé and three other women on Valentine’s Day. Two celibate years later, her roommate creates a profile for Lia on a dating website—without her knowledge—and sets up a date. On Valentine’s Day.
Ryan Walsh, a self-made millionaire and libertine, refuses to commit to any one woman. Tossed from foster home to foster home as a child, Ryan is on guard against becoming vulnerable ever again.
One dinner…one night of dancing and flirting with the attraction between them, puts both Lia and Ryan in danger of heart break.
They have a choice—open themselves to the possibility of hurt or walk away, never knowing what might have been.
My nerve endings stirred as the subtle scent of sandalwood wafted across the table time and again. What man used sandalwood-scented soap anymore? By the cut of his suit and the Rolex on his wrist, Ryan Walsh had money. And plenty of it. Why no expensive cologne? The chick-lure nectar of the gods his type bathed in?
He grinned again, and heat filled the empty place only Mr. Pink had seen or stroked in two years. Ryan’s attention drifted to my lips and lingered as our waiter took his time pouring our wine.
I forced myself to breathe as my treasonous nipples pebbled, begging for attention.
Damnation. I do not want this.
He was too friggin’ sexy for his own good. And by his suggestive grin and the twinkle in his eyes, he knew it too.
“Are you ready to order, Lia?” Ryan asked, his focus staying on my face instead of dipping downward like most men’s did.
Praying my voice didn’t betray my arousal, I turned my attention the waiter. “I’ll have the shrimp Fra Diavlo.”
“And for you, sir?”
Ryan spouted off a few words in Italian, never once breaking eye contact with me.
My lips twitched. Papa would be impressed.
When the waiter ambled away, a smile—a real smile, not the cocky, you-know-you-want-me ones he had offered until then—revealed straight, white teeth. “So.”
His low voice caressed my ears, and I pressed my thighs together. Thank God I hadn’t shaved. No doubt he had little trouble getting women into his bed. Or their bed. Or against a wall.
About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Her current work, the Risso Family Novellas, revolves around four siblings from Boston’s North End.
They fight to protect those who would never welcome them into the human world…
Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
Rise of the Lost Prince Listening List:
Hoobastank – Crawling In The Dark
Godsmack – Serenity
Linkin Park – Papercut
Alter Bridge – Rise Today
Keane – Somewhere Only We Know
BrunuhVille – You And I
Matt Walters – The First Time
Creed – One Last Breath
Mat Kearney – Breathe In Breathe Out
Gabrielle Aplin – Salvation
Her long lashes fluttered, causing spiky shadows to stipple the tops of her cheeks. “I forgot my laptop. I need to get it from my office,” she said. “That’s where I was going when I got mugged.”
“Here you go,” said Dash. He’d gathered up the woman’s things and tucked them back into her purse. “I don’t think he got anything.” He handed the tan bag over to her. “I think we interrupted the mugger. Petúr tried to catch him, but he got away.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking her scuffed-up purse.
“It’s a good thing we were walking past this alley,” said Vibe. “We heard you scream and—”
“Yes,” she said in a robotic voice, nodding. “You scared off the mugger.” She was looking at Petúr in that unseeing, vacant way, the pupils in her eyes large and pulsing.
He inclined his head. “Here,” he said. “Let me help you up.” He gave her his hand. She took hold, and he couldn’t stop himself from noticing the petal softness of her skin. After she was steady on her feet, he thought to introduce himself. No need to be uncivilized. “I’m Petúr.” He pointed to his right. “That’s Vibe.” Vibe gave her a two finger salute. Petúr tilted his head to his left. “And that’s Dash.”
“I’m Wyndi,” she said, her voice becoming less animated. “Wyndi Darlingheart.”
“Of Darlingheart Incorporated?” Petúr asked.
She brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “In a roundabout way.”
What did that mean?
“Roundabout?” Dash asked the question he himself was dying to know.
She glanced at Dash and kept her gaze trained on him for a long moment. A too long moment. Something hot and possessive twisted in Petúr’s gut. He wanted to reach out and turn her pointed little chin back in his direction, away from the other warrior.
“Cromwell Darlingheart is my father,” she said.
That piece of information got the muscle in Petúr’s jaw to working and quickly stamped out the unusual possessiveness he’d been experiencing.
“Father?” he asked, needing the confirmation one more time.
She nodded and looked up. Her sky-blue gaze went to his mouth then flitted up to his eyes, locking with him. She gasped.
The woman welded her beautiful eyes shut and muttered, “Nothing.”
Could she be afraid of him? No. He didn’t think it was fear he saw swimming in the depths of those liquid blue pools. More like realization of him, mixed with feminine lust.
His golden gaze meandered over her, catching on her cleavage a moment, before moving on to the shape of her hips. Curvaceous. He cleared his throat. Her long lashes fluttered open. Unable to help himself, he was staring at her spectacular face once again. She worked her bottom lip over with her teeth.
She was an oddly captivating, deliciously sweet smelling, eye sparkling female with a mouth he wanted to taste. Taste? Really? He mulled that over for a moment. Yes. He wanted… No. What he was experiencing was more than mere want. He needed to taste her. All of her, he realized taken aback.
He’d been with numerous women before in a quick, rough coupling just to satisfy his animalistic desires, however he was having thoughts he’d never had. Animalistic, yes, but….
He studied her, the arch of her brows, the way strands of her hair framed her face. How delicate she was compared to him. Wyndi Darlinghart. He allowed her name—the daughter of the rich scum-sucking asshole who’d purchased Neverland, intent on clearing the land, as well as him and the lost boys out of their home—to simmer.
Her sweet cotton candy scent assaulted his nose once more. His dick stirred beneath the leather of his D-ring jeans. Would she melt in his mouth like the candy would? His brow furrowed. What was wrong with him? He took in another deep breath, allowing her bouquet to linger. Maybe the ache would go away if he just tasted those full lips. No. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away the urge.
Seconds ticked by. Damn it. He couldn’t shake off what he was feeling. His eyes narrowed. Of all the women in the world, why did it have to be this woman he seriously wanted to thoroughly enjoy in a slow, lingering manner?
Because fate is a cruel bitch. That’s why.
“She’s a Darlingheart,” he heard Vibe say.
No. Not say, but project inside his head.
“Right,” he mumbled, but when Wyndi’s eyelids fluttered open, and she locked gazes with him once more, all the hardened steel he’d erected around himself, as well his common sense, fell away.
Crazy though it might well be, Petúr found himself, for the first time in his long life, wishing for more. More time with her. He wanted to talk, and touch, and kiss. Shit. He wanted to kiss her so bad he physically hurt.
He broke the eye contact this time, and turned away. Who was he kidding? He might want more than fast, anonymous, no strings attached sex, but he wasn’t a choirboy either. For what he had in mind, there would be strings. Maybe even ropes.
“We’ll walk you to your office,” Petúr said, unwilling to let her out of his sight, as he tried to tell himself the over-protectiveness was necessary, even though darklings never attacked the same person twice.
“Um…” Wyndi muttered.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. “That’s where you said you were headed, right?”
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and took the lead.
Petúr homed in on the sway of those hips as she walked in front of him. Oh yeah. He might want more. More than he’d ever given or received from any other woman, yet he also wanted to strip this little human, go to his knees, and map her feminine folds with his mouth, listening to her call out his name in a breathy entreaty as he tasted her pleasure upon his tongue.
I see three people on the cover. You know what that means…
Scarlet is back with a hot new release and this is the first in a series! Here to tell you a little more is Scarlet herself:
Did you watch the Super Bowl halftime show? I was super-excited to see Katy Perry perform I Kissed a Girl with Lenny Kravitz. After all, the song inspired my new series, I Kissed a Girl.
The pop lyrics are fun, but do you remember how controversial they were when the song was released in 2008. Katy tells W Magazine, “It was a bit radical to sing about bisexuality, but it was a topic that was on the tip of everybody’s tongue. And even though it was ‘I kissed a girl, and I liked it, and that’s what I like to do sometimes,’ I sang it with a wink. It may be a fun little pop song, but sometimes fun little pop songs most clearly express the zeitgeist.”
Katy started a trend. She helped tear down labels and made it acceptable to experiment. Because, as Tessa Walker says in the opening of I Kissed a Girl in Vegas, “Let’s face it. You can’t always choose what turns you on.”
Here’s a fun fact about Katy’s I Kissed a Girl lyrics: Did you ever wonder why she sings about Cherry Chapstick instead of watermelon, strawberry, or grape? Sure it sounds the best but there’s another reason. Cherry Chapstick = Lady Bits
Consult Urban Dictionary for details then be sure to check out I Kissed a Girl in Vegas. There’s kissing in it. xoxo
Tessa Walker’s business trip takes her to one of the poshest hotels on the Vegas Strip. Nursing a break-up, she can use of weekend of fun and sun. Little does she know, her pool cabana mate is none other than famous chef and restaurateur, Gianna Lucini, who introduces her to the world of great food and forbidden passion.
Life as a jet-set chef isn’t all it’s cracked up to be for Gianna. Like her restaurants, she insists on control in the bedroom and her tastes run anything but plain vanilla. She’s ready to give up on love until Tessa serves up an offer Gianna can’t turn down.
“Mark has another talent you’re sure to enjoy. I’m going to take over for him so he can show you. Just keep an open mind and let yourself go, Tessa.” Her slow words mesmerized me as her strong fingers took over and Mark let go. Her hands were small and soft in comparison to his. Gianna’s fingers traveled across my shoulder blades, loosening tight muscles along the way. I grabbed the edge of the table and slid my chair back a few inches. “Relax,” Gianna whispered. Mark moved to my side and casually leaned against the table. He picked up my hand and rubbed small circles around the sensitive area where my thumb met my palm.
“You have a hard time letting go. Don’t you, Tessa?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and reached for my glass of wine, hoping it’d provide much needed liquid courage. Mark grabbed my other hand before it could capture the wineglass.
“You don’t need that to relax. Let me help you.” His graveled voice rumbled its way through my body and stoked the heat settling low in my belly.
My chair suddenly moved out further and he stepped between my knees, facing me. His gaze moved from me to above my head where Gianna stood. She continued her ministrations on my tight muscles. Mark smiled and his gaze moved back to me. His fingers rubbed the inside of my palm in unison with Gianna’s hands at my shoulders. I’d never had two people touching me in this way before. Every cell of my body stood at attention. Like the rhythm of a gentle ocean, their hypnotic caresses washed away any lingering insecurity.
Waves of pleasure coursed through my body in the secluded room smack in the middle of one of the busiest hotels in Vegas. I should’ve been embarrassed by the attention. I should’ve got up and walked away. Things like that don’t happen to me. However, my ass might as well have been crazy-glued to the chair, because I wasn’t moving. The tablecloth brushed over my bare legs as Mark let go of one of my hands and his fingers brushed my thigh. He lowered his muscled body to his knees as Gianna gathered my hair into a ponytail. Her fingers raked through my scalp while Mark’s fingers drew imaginary lines from my knee to high on the inside of my thigh and back again. I swallowed hard as my pulse quickened. I was sure Gianna could see how fast my heart was beating when she pulled my hair and coaxed my face upward to meet her stare.
She smiled down at me. “I want you to clear your mind and just enjoy the moment. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded and closed my eyes. A flash of pain gripped my scalp as Gianna tightened her hold on my hair. My eyelids flew open and I met her crystal-blue gaze that was the color of a Caribbean ocean.
“Be here with me, Tessa. Don’t escape into yourself. I want your eyes on me, or Mark. Believe me, it will make the experience incredible.”
I nodded again and she loosened the grip she had on my hair. Mark’s tongue had replaced his fingers and he left a warm, wet trail on the inside of my thigh. He released my other hand and both of his hands were making their way up the tops of my thighs and under my short skirt.
Gazing at me, his eyes burned hot and he shot me a grin. “Lift up a little, sweetheart.”
I did as he asked and my lacy underwear was quickly swept from me, losing my shoes in the process. His palms cupped my knees, nudging them farther apart. A wave of insecurity washed over me as his gaze shifted to my sex.
“Remember what I said. Relax and enjoy.” Gianna’s voice filled my ear.
About the author:
Scarlet Chastain is the semi-secret pseudonym of a multi-published, best selling author of sensual erotic romance. Scarlet’s focus is female-centric sizzling stories written about women, for women.
She lives in the suburban shadows of New York City but her heart belongs to the beaches of Key West. Scarlet can usually be found in her favorite chair of her newly acquired writing cave.
If you ask her nicely, she will usually tell you her other pen name. She’s sweet that way.
Thanks to everyone who stopped by and commented. Great answers and especially the “why” part.
Happy New Year from Evernight!
Now that the Christmas cookies are gone, gifts unwrapped, and your holiday visitors have left, you’ve earned some well-deserved TLC. Evernight authors not only have the cure for your holiday hangover, they have fantastic new books for your 2015 reading list, too!
Be sure to visit every stop on the hop and answer each question. The more you blogs you hop, the more chances to win the GRAND PRIZE of an iPad Mini sponsored by Evernight Publishing (one entry per blog). Plus, hop over to each blog for a host of other fabulous prizes.
Now sink into your favorite chair and enjoy your holiday hangover!
To go with the hair of the dog, how a nice getaway read? I’m offering:
An ebook copy of Prometheus Unstitched* (or another book from my Evernight backlist)
PLUS a $10 gift card to Evernight’s bookstore
*Voted the runner up in Evernight’s First Annual Reader’s Choice Award in the Humor category.
Cory Blindbarrow of Blindbarrow Crimefighting Couture, loves her work—from tailoring bulletproof fabrics to engineering concealed weaponry. Kowtowing to the over-sized egos of her superhero clientele? Not so much.
Her newest client, Theo Richelieu, aka Prometheus Man, can see five minutes into the future. Unfortunately, nobody believes him. He’s exactly the type that pushes Cory’s buttons. But he’s also quite talented at engaging (and disengaging) her snaps and zippers. As maddening as Theo can be, Cory can’t deny their supernatural chemistry.
When a sniper targets Cory’s colleagues, Theo appoints himself her protector. His know-it-all attitude soon has her ready to tattoo a bullseye on her forehead. If Theo is unable to convince the headstrong couturier she’s the sniper’s next mark, their happily ever after might never make it out of the design phase.
Here’s a fun little snippet:
Fingers flying she worked her way through the files documenting the Blindbarrow legacy. Some of the designs were classics and withstood fashion’s caprices. Others, such as the trendier ones from the seventies with their ridiculous bell-bottoms, had been long forgotten.
“Let’s see … Tar Man, Tasmanian Tiger Girl, Uvula Woman … oh, she was a cool one…” Cory pulled the file out an inch to peek at the design.
Theo quipped, “And these were the superheroes you took on as clients because they weren’t lame?”
“Hey! You can’t judge a supe by her name! Uvula woman was quite formidable. She could shoot out this appendage from the back of her throat, like, ten feet. If she got that puppy around you, you—”
Enter for a chance to win Evernight’s GRAND PRIZE of an iPad Mini and my blog prize by answering this question (be sure to include your email address to be eligible to win):
If you could have any super power, what would it be and how would you use it?
That’s it! Don’t forget to include your email in your comment so our prize coordinator can collect it.
The last thing that Sarah wants in her life is a relationship. Her track record was horrendous, and the last guy she’d dated had beaten her mentally and physically, landing her in the hospital. Almost a year later she’s back on her feet, thanks in no small part to her best friend Jason. Trouble is, lately she wants more than a friendship with Jason, and it scares the hell out of her. And then he kisses her…
His offense may hit a brick wall…
Jason has been in love with Sarah for longer than he’ll willingly admit to. Since bringing her home from the hospital, she’s grown into a strong, secure, confident woman. After seeing how perfect his best friend really is, he can’t get her off his mind. He’s convinced her feelings match his, and decides to go for it, only to scare her away.
Can best friends become something more? Or will she stay hidden behind her defensive wall?
As a child, Loralynne was always the student getting in trouble for talking in class and at home for making things up. Combining her ability to go on and on and her flair for storytelling, she naturally grew up to be a writer. Originally planning to write fantasy, her muse had other plans. Once she opened herself up to the whims of her muse, she couldn’t type her first sex scene fast enough and now writes romance. Loralynne lives in Upstate New York with her husband, cats, and growing family. You can friend her on Facebook or follow her on twitter under @LL_Summers
Loralynne shares her inspiration for the story…
The story opens to Sarah mowing the lawn on a hot, humid day. And that’s exactly what I was doing when the idea first took root in my brain. My neighbor across the street arrived home on his Harley, and BAM! The whole opening scene was there in my head. I couldn’t type fast enough. There is a large part of my relationship in this story. Jason has some of my husband’s mentality, mostly in how he treats Sarah. I often tell my husband that I don’t deserve him, he is way better to me than I am to him! As for Sarah, I too fell in love with my best friend after leaving an abusive relationship. Thankfully, mine never reached the level of physical abuse, but the signs were all there, and it was only a matter of time. As in the story though, I was quite afraid of my feelings for my husband, because of how close our friendship was and I was terrified to ruin it.
“Why are you carrying me fifty feet?” Sarah asked.
“Because I can. Because I’d be a jerk to make you stumble around on those shoes when you could fall and get hurt. But mostly because it’s my fault they’re broken in the first place.”
“Jason, I’m the one who gave Alex a roundhouse kick to the head in these things.”
“And you have no idea how proud I am of you for that. Doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t there to protect you when he showed up, and I should have been.”
She sighed, settling her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered. If he could beat the shit out of himself, he would. It had been eating away at him from the moment she’d thrown herself at him and wouldn’t let go.
He wanted to kick the ass of every one of their friends, too. Most of them didn’t know who Alex was. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from wanting to knock their heads off for letting Sarah fight him. Hell, it was a good thing for Alex that Jason had been in the bathroom when it all went down. Otherwise, the police would have pulled him off Alex’s bloody, beaten corpse. He owed that asshole. Not just for the beating that had landed Sarah in the hospital, but also for the months it took to put her back together, physically and emotionally.
“What’s the code for the alarm, Sarah?” He’d never asked her what it was after showing her how to change it. He wanted her to feel completely safe from everyone when she was in the house, including him.
“Sarah?” He tilted his head back to look down at her. In the dark, he couldn’t see her blush, but assumed she had when she turned and buried her face into his chest before mumbling a reply. “I didn’t hear you, baby. Tell me again.”
She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I said, it’s your birthday.”
Christ, could he feel more like a dick? If he needed another clue about her feelings, he was a moron. It was a bit ironic, though.
“Wanna know a secret? My alarm is set to your birthday. Kinda funny, huh?” He set her down to dig her keys out of his pocket. “You gonna let all the cold air out, or are you coming inside?” She stood where he’d left her on the porch. Shaking herself, she followed him into the house and he reset the alarm for occupancy, locking the door behind them. “You go ahead and shower. I’ll make popcorn, grab us some beers, and see what I can find to watch.”
“Sure. Can you help me with the boots? My hands still feel all shaky.”
“Yeah, of course. Here.” He fell to the floor in front of her, sitting on his heels and dying a little more inside. This was so not how he’d pictured the night going just a couple of hours ago. He wanted to be peeling these off because she wanted him to, not because she needed him to.
She rested her hands on his shoulders and placed one foot on his thigh. He ran his hands along the supple leather, up and over her calf. He swallowed hard, tamping down his baser emotions. She didn’t need that kind of bullshit from him right now.
Slowly, he pulled the zipper down and slid the boot from her. Lips parted slightly, her breathing grew shallow and rapid. Unable to stop himself, he massaged her foot for a moment before he gently lowered it to the floor. Eyes locked, he pulled her other leg forward and repeated the procedure. Her lids fluttered, a soft moan escaping her when he gently worked his hands up her legs, kneading both calves at the same time.
“Jason…” she whispered, her hands sliding to the back of his neck.
He rose to his knees, conscience be damned. There was no denying the hunger in her eyes, or the tension filling the room. She leaned into him, his hands continuing to massage their way up the backs of her legs until they held her ass firmly. Both breathing hard, they froze, a hair’s breadth separating their lips, hesitating to cross the final line that would end their friendship and start something new.