Sale Blitz :: Enzo

Title: Enzo
Series: Jinx Tattoos Book 1
Author: Shyla Colt
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Neglected, abandoned by a heroin-addicted mother, and placed in foster care at ten, Enzo Jordan has learned one thing…love hurts. At thirty-five, he has a successful tattoo shop and his choice of women. The one-night stands are getting old, and the love he holds for his best friend, Aibhlinn is impossible to hide. When the attraction between them reaches a boiling point, he’s forced to choose between facing his fears and walking away. 
Aibhlinn Leahy has been in love with her best friend for years. The Irish-born comic book artist has poured time, energy, and love into the wounded man. His choice to walk away breaks her heart but frees her to explore a new future.
Life is a cruel and amazing thing. An abandoned baby brings the two back together, and they’re forced to examine the love that has long existed between them. This is a story of pain, scars, and fear. We all have demons to battle. The real decision is who’s in control…us or them?
*** Enzo is Book One in the Jinx Tattoos Series but is a STAND ALONE novel***

Enzo Chapter One

Enzo


The alarm mocked him as he woke to limbs tangled with his own. The blonde from the night before snuggled into his side. He ran a hand through his hair and rested his head on the pillow. Overnights weren’t his norm, but waking up alone on today of all days wasn’t an option. He had a love-hate connection with the day of his birth, and thirty-four was too old to deal with shit with liquor. So…he fucked in excess and kept his liquor consumption to a minimum instead. Normally, he would be ready to go for round three, but all he wanted was silence…some peace. He moved away from the blonde and rolled from the bed, ready to wash away the night before.

 


“Time to go home, sweetheart,” he said.

 


She stretched her arms above her head, letting her blanket fall to her lap. Her perky breasts were perfection and obviously fake.

 


Still, Enzo took a moment to appreciate her investments.

 


“You sure I can’t tempt you into breakfast?” she purred.

 


“Positive, got somewhere to be.”

 


She pouted her plump red lips.


What kind of makeup shit lasts overnight? The thought of the chemicals involved made him shudder. “As amazing as you were last night, I’ll have to pass.”

 


She huffed and tossed the blankets aside, swinging her shapely legs over the side of the bed as she stood. She was petite, tanned, toned, and plastic. It made her easy to look at, have a good time with, and say good-bye to.

 


Not that he ever felt bad. She knew what she was getting into, they all did. He made it clear he didn’t do seconds and wasn’t looking for more than a mutual exchange of pleasure. Still, some of them seemed to think they would win some magical lottery, and things would change in the morning. He’d seen Tracee around the tattoo shop a million times. She was an ink chaser.


She wanted a tattoo artist for an old man in the worst way. He made it clear she was barking up the wrong tree, but she kept coming around. He wasn’t looking to have a significant other, and her desperation to land someone who would take care of her made his skin crawl. This would kill two birds with one stone.


“You’re a real ass, Enzo, you know that?” Tracee asked as she poured her body back into her skin-tight black dress.

 


“You already knew that, though, Trace. We knew this wasn’t more than a night of fun.”


She cocked her hip and narrowed her eyes. “You sure about that, sweetheart? We had a lot of fun. Imagine that in your bed every night.”

 


“Not looking for that, Trace,” he said with a shrug.

 


“Would you say the same thing if I had my head stuck in a book and my body covered from head to toe?” Tracee scoffed.


“What the fuck did you say?” Enzo asked, stepping forward.


The color drained from her face. She snatched up her sky-high heels and fled. “Nothing, see you around,” she muttered, skittering out the door before he could respond.

 


People wondered about him and his best friend, Aibhlinn. They didn’t think a man and a woman could be friends without jumping in the bed together. His theory was the exact opposite. Sex ruined things. It broke up lifelong relationships, made people paranoid, and upset the natural order you first had before romance entered the picture. No, his spitfire Irish lass with the piercing blue-green eyes and flowing chestnut mane would remain off limits forever.

 


The very thought of her made him smile. Even on his darkest day, she never failed to bring him a little happiness. He walked to the front door of his house and locked the door behind Tracee. A quick glance at the clock told him he had about thirty minutes to get his ass into gear. He walked back over the maple hardwood floor and into the bathroom. The white on white tiles and glass shower enclosure made the room appear more open and easy to get into and out of, which made the space tolerable.


Turning on the hot water, he sank onto the bench at the far end of the massive stall and let the gathering steam clear his pores and his muddled head. Lack of sleep and beer had him feeling sluggish. After a few minutes, he rose to his feet, stepped under the spray, quickly soaped down, and rinsed off.

 


He was pulling on his plaid button up when the doorbell rang. A few moments later, the lock turned.

 


“You decent, birthday boy?” Aibhlinn called with that slight lilt he’d grown to love.

 


“Yeah, I’m coming out now,” Enzo called back. He appeared in the doorway and smiled.

 


Dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged her thick thighs, and large ass, she was mouthwatering.

 


Off limits didn’t mean he couldn’t admire her assets. An off the shoulder Pink Floyd sweater displayed tantalizing porcelain flesh. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun that showed off her long, slender neck.

 


“You ready to go?” she asked.

 


“What? No breakfast?” he shot back.

 


She rolled her eyes. “Smart ass. We’ll be back for that later. If you don’t hurry, we’ll miss the sunrise.”

 


He nodded his head and walked toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist as they hugged. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks for coming, Ave.”

 


“Where else would I be?” she whispered.


Anywhere, with someone worthy of your time and affection. It was his deepest fear. That she would enter a romantic relationship and their friendship would go by the wayside. It was selfish wanting her to remain his number one girl…she deserved more. It worked for them now. They were both artists obsessed by the act of creating.


The years were passing swiftly, and she’d gone from unknown to sought after in her career field. First come loves, and then comes marriage. He snarled, pushing the thought of the day she, too, left him far in the background of his brain.


“Come on, I’ll drive,” she said, pulling him to the door.


He allowed her to manipulate him.


At five-foot-eleven, she still lacked the strength to move him if he resisted. Along with fucking, he liked to workout. It kept his head from getting overcrowded and allowed him a healthy way to work out his frustrations. Locking the door behind them, he followed her to the black SUV.

 


She hit the fob and unlocked the door.

 


Enzo was at the driver’s side, opening her door before she could protest. He knew how to treat a woman. He wasn’t so fucked up that he felt a sick need to use and abuse them. His mother, the angel who adopted him and straightened his ass out, would skin him alive if he ever went that route.

 


“Thanks, Enz,” she said, climbing into her seat.

He made his way to the passenger side then leaned his head back against the headrest, and zoned out as she pulled out of his driveway and headed for their destination.

 


Fog hung in the air, creating a thin layer of white. The haze turned the massive structure that was their destination into something mystical, or creepy, depending on how one looked at it. Bundled against the fall chill, they made their way from the car and into Ault Park, in the direction of the pavilion.

 


After the climb, his eyes drank in the frosted landscape. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

 


This park held good and bad memories. His birth mother brought him here many times. Originally, he thought it was because she was a good mother who loved the outdoors and knew he loved to be among the beauty the park offered. As he grew, he understood it was a public place to get her fix. No one thought twice of a man, a woman, and a child walking through the woods.

 


He would never forget the first time his brain registered the cash she gave Uncle Ian was for drugs. The tiny brown squares were heroin. They’d found her body here on his sixteenth birthday, needle still in her arm, eyes vacant, and body cold. She’d turned a day he already loathed into something even worse.

 


He inhaled, embracing the chilly air that crept down his throat and into his chest.

 


The ache meant he was alive. That he’d survived against the odds. Thinking of the days scrounging for food in garbage cans, stealing from the stores, and running drugs for dope boys to feed his starving gut…he shuddered. She’d always saved the most fucked up shit for his birthday, like an anti-birthday gift. That last day she’d left and never returned was his twelfth birthday.


He bowed his head in solemn remembrance. All the bullshit made it hard for a guy to feel joy on the day he came into the world and landed in a pile of festering shit. But that’s not where I am now. He glanced over at the woman standing beside him as the sky yielded from an inky blue to a purple, and a dusky orange. The sun’s rays turned everything golden, and for that moment in time, things were clean and new. The world was a hopeful place. The darkness was banished.

 


“Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; but only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay,” he whispered, quoting Robert Frost’s “Nothing Gold Can Stay”. There was a man who understood how to live in the moments before dawn ended. He hadn’t gotten there yet.


Ava tangled her fingers with his, and he let her. She was a blazing white light in the murkiness. His Irish angel on his shoulder, constantly encouraging him to do better, insisting he reach for his dreams, and repeatedly telling him he was worthy. She was the best present he’d ever received, on the same day his mother left this Earth. Perhaps that’s why he liked having her with him on his birthday.

 



Past


He sat in the back of the room, sketching in the expensive pad Mrs. Jordan had purchased for him as a birthday gift. As far as foster parents went, Karen and her husband Bill were one of the rare ones. Not only were they decent, they seemed to enjoy having him and the other boys there. The children who moved in and out were more than a paycheck; they were a chance to change lives. He thought it was an act at first. Now, he understood they were the genuine article. He’d been here six months, and other than bumping heads on being accountable for his whereabouts, it had been fairly smooth sailing. The high school was the same as any other, but he dug the art teacher, Ms. Leahy. The Irish woman with bright red hair, blue eyes, and a melodic accent encouraged him to hone his skills.


She said he had the potential to be a great artist. It was something he’d never really heard before. Writing and poetry were a means to escape from the shitty surroundings he often found himself trapped in. Artists and writers understood pain in the intimate way a boxing coach knew the mechanics of fighting.

 


“Hey, that’s good.”


He continued to darken the area of the crow’s wing.

 


“Hey, did you hear me?”

 


Peering up, he found himself lost in an ocean of an intense blue-green gaze. He blinked and took in the entire package.


The girl leaning over his shoulder was dressed from head to toe in a black dress with black tights and tall black boots. Her deep red lipstick stood out against her pale face and made her hair look more red than brown.

 


“You talking to me?” he asked.

 


“Yeah. I like the way you’re shading that in,” she replied, gesturing toward the paper.

 


“Uhh, thanks?”

 


She laughed. “That’s about the usual response to me.” She held out her hand. “Aibhlinn Leahy, I’m Ms. Leahy’s daughter. I just transferred to this high school.”

 


So, she didn’t know to stay away from the degenerate foster boy yet. “Enzo,” he said, quickly shaking her hand.

 


“Ahh, it’s nice to meet someone else around here with a unique name.”

 


He snorted. Heads turned to glance back at them. He scowled, and they faced forward. “Look, you’re new here, so you don’t know any better. But…I should warn you. Being seen with me will get you labeled as an outcast.”

 


“And now, you’ve intrigued me,” she said with a smile that showed the tiny dimple in her right cheek.

 


He shook his head, not willing to be the bad boy to some good girl gone wrong. “I should also mention, I don’t like people.”


“Oh, you’ll like me, I promise.” She sank onto the seat beside him and set down her pad. “You like comics?”


He blinked, trying to keep up with her crazy topic jumps. “Yeah.”

 


She opened her page. “Me too.

 


The impressive comic strip of Wolverine made him whistle. “You did this?”

 


“Yeah, need to work on my shading in certain areas. Which is why your work caught my eye.”


So, it’d been a self-serving thing. That he could understand. “Your detail is on point. I could use some pointers.”

 


“Then I’ll help you and you can help me,” she offered.

 


“Deal.”


He had no way of knowing it was the start of a lifelong relationship that would in many ways define him as a man.

 



Present


Aibhlinn

 


After they returned from Ault Park, Aibhlinn studied Enzo from beneath her lashes. He seemed more sullen this year than he had previously. “What’s wrong?” she asked, setting his bowl of steel cut oats and toast in front of him.

 


“You know I hate my birthday,” Enzo replied, and pushed the oats around with his spoon like a petulant child.


His pouty expression was adorable. She tried not to smile at the picture he presented. It was all too easy to imagine what little Enzo looked like once upon a time. “No, this feels like more than that,” she said, frowning.


He glanced up at her and sighed. “We’re getting old.”


She snorted. “Speak for yourself, grandpa. We’ve barely hit our thirties.”


“Yeah, but you know how fast time flies. We’ll blink, and it’ll be our forties.”

 


“So?” she asked, shaking her head.

 


He shrugged. “Makes a person wonder what their contribution to the world is, or why they were brought here in the first place.”


“What about Jinx Tattoos? You guys are taking names and kicking ass. You just did an interview with the local paper. That’s not something a mediocre shop does,” she said.


“Yeah, I mean, business wise I’m doing okay, just…”

 


“Ahh, so we’re talking about an ailment of a spiritual nature, then?”

 


“Ave.”

 


“What? If it’s not logical, it’s of the heart. Why do you always get antsy when I mention this?”


“Because I don’t know if I believe in this shit. I mean, what kind of God lets all this crap happen to innocent people”

 


“One who believes in free will. He allows us to do what we choose, even when it’s soul killing and bat shit crazy acts.”


“Why?”


“Because, if He didn’t, we’d be nothing more than puppets. This forces us to be accountable for our actions.”


“You believe that? After everything?” he asked.


She sighed. “After what happened to my father you mean? Yes. He made bad decisions, and it cost him his life. Catalyst being, my mother got out of there and made a better life for us.” Her heart turned to lead as she thought about her father and his obsession with purifying Ireland. They’d lost him to a bomb. He lived by the gun, and he died by it. Her mother had distanced herself from his associates and casually applied for a working visa. The rest was history.

 


“I’m sorry.” He set his spoon down and placed his hand over hers. “That was shitty of me.”


She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You asked an honest question. I try not to think about that too much, Enzo. It’s no use rehashing a past none of us can change. If anything, I used it as a model for what not to do. We can’t control the things that happen to us. But we can decide what to do with the rest of our life afterward.”

 


“You make it sound so damn easy, Ave.”

 


“Ack, I never said that. I’m a bag full of crazy on a good day and fully aware I’m a thirty-four-year-old comic book author who has a sorely lacking social life, a D.O.A. love life, and very few friends.”


“You’re brilliant, and you know it,” Enzo countered.

 


She laughed. “To you maybe.”


“More than me. I’ve watched you work your ass off to get where you are. I remember when you were pounding the pavement submitting your resume everywhere, doing any sort of pro bono work you could to get your name out there. You worked a bevy of craptastic jobs to support yourself while you went after your dream. Now, you’re well on your way to achieving them. Own that shit.”


Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she glanced away. She would never possess his swagger. Some days her plentiful contracts felt like a streak of good luck, though she had the work history to prove it to be anything but that.

 


“One day some man is going to swoop in and whisk you away from me. Then who’ll be here to call me on my shit?”


“Your mother, and come on, you know that’s never going to happen. I’ll always have time for you.” It could be you if you’d let yourself try with me.


“Even after you get hitched and pop out a few babies?” He met her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his thoughtful expression.


Something she couldn’t name crossed his face.

 


“Well, thank you for marrying me off and knocking me up.”

 


“What? We both know you’re dying to have kids.”

 


“With the right man…someday, yes. At this point, I’ve never had a relationship make it to the one year mark. I’m a lot to handle, and it’s going to take one hell of a man to get me even half as well as you do.” She willed him to finally see what was in front of him. They were a key and lock, made to fit and always working in tandem. It was a rarity.


“We’re not getting any younger, Ave. That day is coming around the corner.”

 


Unless you step up to the plate. She glanced out the window, afraid he would see the longing in her eyes. Maybe he’s trying to tell me we are never going to happen and I need to move on without him. And my ass is too stupid to realize it. “I don’t feel the crush of age the way you do. I think it’ll happen organically. Life has a way of putting you on the right path eventually. For now, I’m in love with my life. I love my vintage two-bedroom apartment in the charming historic building. The freedom of being a freelancer, and the point I’ve reached in my career. Why borrow trouble worrying about what may or may not happen?”

 


“Just like that?” Enzo snapped.


“No, it’s a conscious choice I make daily. You know I live in my head. I’ve been in the dark before…really deep. I’m trying not to return there. I didn’t like it much the first time.”

 


Enzo nodded and shoveled a spoonful of oats into his mouth. He was a brooding thinker, her creative best friend. Most only saw the successful tattoo artist with a hot bod, and what they took for a short fuse. While he might have some anger issues about certain events, he never flew off the handle or did anything impulsive. He was a brooder. A deep thinking individual who camouflaged his sensitivity with humor, crassness, and walls.

She’d scaled them one by one over the years, but an unbreakable obstacle remained. She forced herself to eat her breakfast. Times like this, it was best to let the silence remain between them. His birthdate was always rough. She never really understood why he wanted her with him. He never went into detail, simply saying it made him feel better.


She was a sucker that way, not wanting to bring up painful memories of his past. Maybe I should practice tough love? How could she when the majority of his formative years had been hell? The things that happened to you in the first five years shaped your life forever, she knew that more than most.

 


They finished their meal, and she took the plates away, washing them by hand to give herself time to figure out how to best approach him.


“So what movie are we starting with?” she asked, wiping the kitchen island down. The horror movie marathon had grown legendary. People would show up with birthday offerings, popcorn, candy, and snacks. He celebrated the traditional way with family the day after his birthday. This day was just for them.


“The bloodier, the better,” he answered.


“Hmmm, classic or modern?”


He leaned in closer. “That depends on what you have in mind.”


“Dead Alive or Saw, the first film.”


“Hmmm. Dead Alive. I could use a bit of laughter with my gore.”


“Excellent choice. Morning margaritas?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow up.


He laughed. “Yeah right.”

 


She laughed with him and retrieved a bottle of scotch and two glass tumblers. Setting the personalized glasses onto the counter that she’d brought back from Ireland on a visit, she moved to the fridge for the ice. “You get the movie cued up, and I’ll be in a minute,” she said.

 


“On it.”

 


Aibhlinn then pulled out the plastic black ice tray and cracked the round ball of ice out of its mold. Setting one gently into a glass, she repeated the process, proud of the habits Enzo picked up from her. Her love of fine whiskey was another trait she’d inherited from her father. Back home, people took their drinks quite seriously. While her mother could drink with the best of them, she wasn’t as particular on her pick of poison.


She poured them both a healthy dollop and placed them—along with the bottle—onto a chocolate wood breakfast tray she’d bought. It was amazing how many of her touches she could see throughout his house. If she’d left it up to him, the place would still be a barren bachelor’s pad. The man could be his own worst enemy. It was like he didn’t believe he deserved happiness. She entered the room, set the tray on the black table in front of the couch, and sank onto the soft grey cushion.

 


“You ready?” he asked.

 


“Let the horrorathon begin,” she replied solemnly with a nod.

 


He snickered and pressed play.

 


As the movie began, she tucked her legs under her and leaned into his side. It was the only time she could get this close casually. His body exuded heat, and the scent of something dark and delicious seeped from his pores. She knew the brand of body wash he used, but it was something about his chemistry that turned the scent into an indescribable buffet for the senses. Content, she let herself get lost in the movie.

 


“The nineties gave us such great one liners,” Enzo noted as the priest showed off his ninja assassin skills while claiming to kick ass for the Lord.


She laughed. “Well, yeah, but so did Peter Jackson. He’s a special kind of sick and twisted, though he hides it well these days. I mean, Meet the Feebles?”

 


“Truth. I’d like to see him do another horror movie.”

 


“It’ll never happen. He knows where his bread and butter lies,” she said.

 


“That’s the double edge sword of fame I suppose. When you’re just making a name, you’re not expected to do anything in particular. The world is your playground, and the only limitation is your imagination. Then you get recognition, get labeled, and wind up stuck in a box. He’s still making Lord of the Ring films how many years later?”


“I don’t know, he has a cult film following, too, though. That’s something to be proud of. Plus, there was District 9. That was a step back toward those movies where he really flexed his creative muscles and stepped ‘outside of the box’,” she said using air quotes.


“Yeah, that’s true. I forgot about that one. I actually liked it a lot.”

 


“I know. I did, too.” She smiled up at him.


“Well, you do tend to have pretty good taste.”


“Shut up, I’m awesome,” she retorted.


“Yeah, you are. Thanks for hanging with me.”

 


“Hey, traditions are meant to be kept,” she replied, careful to keep things light.


They returned their attention to the movie, and she allowed herself to enjoy his closeness.

 


A knock sounded on the door halfway through the movie.


Enzo pressed pause. “Got to be Rhys. No one else gets up this early.”

 


“I’ll get it,” Aibhlinn said, eager to put some distance between the two of them. It was a little too easy to pretend things between them could be romantic behavior. She peered out the window above the door and grinned at the sight of the blond male with green eyes. The baby of the brothers, he had a lightheartedness about him. She opened the door. “Rhys.”

 


“Aibhlinn,” Rhys cried, sweeping her up into his arms.

 


“I told you about treating her like a doll,” Enzo barked from the couch.


Aibhlinn giggled.

 


“Should we royally piss him off, then?” Rhys asked.

 


She nodded her head.

 


“When are you going to let me make an honest woman out of you?” Rhys asked, loud enough for Enzo to hear.

 


“I don’t know. What do you have to offer?” Aibhlinn asked in a sultry voice.

 


“Okay, seriously?” Enzo grumbled.

 


She and Rhys laughed.

 


“What? I only came here to see Aibhlinn,” Rhys defended.

 


“No way, man, it’s my day. Get your own girl,” Enzo growled.


Rhys’ eyes widened.


Aibhlinn quickly looked away, ignoring the blood that rushed to her face.


“I am,” Rhys said.


“Pain in my ass,” Enzo stated as his voice drew near. He entered the living room and scowled at his brother who held out a bag.

 


“Don’t shoot the messenger. It’s from Mom.”

 


“And she told you to bring it to me at the ass crack of dawn?” Enzo asked.

 


“She said first thing, and then proceeded to call me to make sure.”


“What is it?” Enzo asked.


“No clue, bro. She gave it to me last night when I was over there for dinner. Happy womb liberation day.”


“Thanks,” Enzo grumbled.

 


“Well, I’ll let you two do whatever it is you do when you’re together,” Rhys said.


Enzo rolled his eyes. “I’m starting to think you have a crush on my girl for real,” Enzo accused, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.


“All I’m saying is, Netflix and Chill has led to many babies, so please be safe,” Rhys teased.


Enzo stepped forward.

 


Rhys moved back, laughing. “I’m headed to the gym now. I got an early appointment that’ll take a good chunk of my day up.”

 


“Where do they want it?” Enzo asked.

 


“A back piece. Luckily, it’s not their first. I always cringe when first times come in and try to do a back piece in one sitting.” Rhys shook his head.


Enzo snorted. “Call me if you need anything.”

 


“We won’t, and if we do, I’m calling Noah. It’s your day.” Rhys and Enzo fist bumped. “See you soon, pretty girl,” Rhys said, giving her a hug before he disappeared out the door.


She spun around. “Open the bag.”

 


He laughed and removed the red tissue paper. “Oh, man, she did good.” He pulled out a bulky box set. “We are watching Kill Bill next.”


She leaned in and read the description. It was a gift set featuring Quentin Tarantino’s best and bloodiest. “I love your mom. She’s so cool.”


“Trust me, the feeling is mutual with your mom. Come on, let’s finish our movie before we’re interrupted again.” Enzo led her back into the living room.

 


Once again, she was lost to her thoughts of what if. Enzo was the sun. She had no choice but to keep circling him.

 


We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well,

 

But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.

 

“Things We Dare Not Tell” ~Henry Lawson

 

Translations:

 

A leanbuh (uh LAN-uv): My child

 

Shyla Colt grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, but has lived a variety of different places thanks to her wanderlust, interesting careers, and marriage to a United States Marine. She’s always loved books and wrote her very first novel at the age of fifteen. She keeps a copy of her first submission letter on her desk for inspiration. After a lifetime of traveling, she settled down and knew her time had come to write. Diving into her new career like she does everything else, with enthusiasm, research and a lot of prayers, she had her first book published in June of 2011. As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there’s never a dull moment in her household.She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company. A self-professed rebel with a pen. Her goal is to diversify romance as she continues to genre hop, and offer up strong female characters.

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Blog Tour :: Fighting to Dream (The Elite: Book Two) by Nicole Flockton

Title: Fighting to Dream
Series: The Elite: Book Two
Author: Nicole Flockton
Genre: Adult, Sports Romance
Published: September 28, 2016
At the 2016 Rio Games, Olympic runner Drake Roberts is chasing a dream, a dream that isn’t his. For as long as he can remember it has been his father’s dream for him to be an Olympic gold medalist. Now an injury could rip away everything he’s worked so hard for.

Tamara York has her dream job. She’s part of the team that keeps the Olympic track and field athletes in peak condition. With plenty of growth potential, no one is going to deviate her from her goals, until she sees Drake hiding his injury. Now she has to help Drake to a full recovery while resisting his charms.

Can time spent together help them realize that love as well as dreams are worth fighting for?

Fighting to Dream Excerpt © Nicole Flockton 2016

Drake Roberts bounced down into a squat, grimacing at the sharp needle of pain in his knee. He grit his teeth and rose up again, hoping against hope his coach hadn’t seen his face. He’d told Len his knee was fine. That he was fit to compete in the Olympics.
Now he was here at Rio.
These games were going to be his last. He hoped to win a medal. He didn’t care what color. Anyone would do. If he won, his dad would stop lamenting how he’d missed out on Olympic glory and his son had achieved what he hadn’t been able to do.
Some would say Drake was living his father’s dream. He couldn’t deny it, he was. When he’d won silver at the world championships last year for the 1,500m race, he thought that might be enough for his dad, after missing out on a medal in the 2012 Olympics. Unfortunately, his win had only fueled his father to push him to work toward trying for another Olympics. After all, his father said, he got silver and if he worked harder he could get gold.
So now, here he was, in the training room at Rio, nursing an injury he’d hidden from his father. He’d told his coach it was okay but he’d aggravated it when he’d taken a run around the Olympic track the day after he’d arrived. He should’ve given his knee a chance to recover from being cooped up in a plane for over eight hours.
While the buzz of being at the Olympics was something you couldn’t adequately describe to anyone, unless they lived it themselves, and he wanted it all over. Once it was done he could announce his retirement from competitive running and his life wouldn’t compose of getting up at the crack ass of dawn to practice and travelling all over the States from meet to meet. He might be able to have a normal life. Although what was normal? If he didn’t win gold his father would no doubt push him to try again for the 2020 Olympics. He would be thirty then. He really didn’t want to do another four years of training.
Drake closed his eyes as he squatted down again. This time the pain was sharper. He blew a breath out as he rose up again. How many more squats was he going to have to do?
“You’re knee bothering you, Drake?”
He swiveled around at the sound of the voice over his left shoulder, the movement doing nothing to help his knee.
Behind him stood Tamara York, the team’s assistant physical trainer, easy on the eye with her honey blond hair caught in a high pony-tail and crystal blue eyes, curves in all the right places. Not so easy on the rehab exercises she had him doing when he first injured his knee. She was also the last person he wanted to know how sore his knee actually was. He knew the other guys on the track squad talked about seeing if she’d go on a date with one of them, none had tried though, they’d all been warned by TJ the head physical trainer that she was off limits. And seeing as most of the guys on the squad like their balls, they obeyed TJ.
Like Joey with is sure fire, How you doing line to get the girls, Drake flashed Tamara his signature melt-your-panties smile and winked. “Nope all good here. But if you feel the need to give me a rub down, I won’t say no.”
The crossing of her arms over her chest and raised eyebrow told him if he’d been standing in a bar, he’d be wearing her cocktail or whatever she was drinking all over his face.
While he knew it was a sleazy line action, and he could have TJ’s wrath come down on him for flirting, he didn’t care. He didn’t want Tamara anywhere near his injury. He didn’t want her telling him his Olympic run was over before it even started.
“Does that really work for you, Roberts? Or am just the lucky one you want to practice your cheesy lines on?”
“It can be whatever you want it to be.” Yep, he was certifiable to keep on being super sleazy with Tamara. He hoped she would walk away and be none the wiser to what his body was going through.
“Right, well I’ve been watching you and I’ve seen you cringe through every one of those squats. If you want to compete in these Games, I suggest you come see me in the treatment room after you’ve finished your practice.” She walked away, back straight, her pony-tail swishing from side to side, giving him no chance to object to her edict about their meeting in the treatment room.
Great, how could his coach and TJ miss the pain he was in but Tamara hadn’t? Unless she was watching him because she was interested in him.
Drake chuckled to himself and pushed the thought away. There was no way Tamara was even remotely interested in him. He was just the unlucky one she’d decided to observe that day.
Forcing his attention back to warming up his body, he slightly modified his actions when completing the rest of the exercises in the hope no one else noticed his discomfort.

Bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than taking characters and creating unique situations where they fight to find their true love.

On her first school report her teacher noted “Nicole likes to tell her own stories”. It wasn’t until after the birth of her first child and after having fun on a romance community forum that she finally decided to take the plunge and write a book.

Apart from writing Nicole is busy looking after her very own hero – her wonderfully supportive husband, and two fabulous kids. She also enjoys watching sports and, of course, reading.

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Release Blitz :: Widower by Angie Merriam

The 4th Book in the Laundromat Chronicles Series is LIVE!!!

 

 

 

 

Jase had it all. Happily married with a little boy, his life couldn’t be more perfect, until an ugly accident steals his entire world. Forced to move on without his family, Jase tries to pick up the pieces of his life.
 
When he makes a trip to the laundromat, Jase finds the one thing he never thought he’d have again, family. Can he get over his loss and learn to love again, or will he be forever bound to the live his life as a widow?




 
(Buy Links Coming Soon)
 
 
(Please Delete if not reviewing)
 
 
 
Angie Merriam resides in the beautiful Pacific NorthWest and is happily married to her best friend. She and her husband have three wonderful children and two crazy cats.
When she’s not writing she loves barbeque’s with family and friends, photography, movies, music, and of course reading. She was influenced by the works of Diana Gabaldon, Stephanie Meyer, Nora Roberts and Danielle Steele.
 
 

 

Release Blitz :: Captivate Me by Ryan Michele

Title: Captivate Me
Series: Ravage MC Book 5
Author: Ryan Michele
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: September 27, 2016
Cover Design: Melissa Gill @MGbookcovers
Photographer: Sara Eirew
The Ravage MC is a family. Always has been, always will be. But life took them all on a different path, a path where they suffered loss, betrayal, and heartache. 

 


Now it all comes down to this moment: a day of reckoning. After all, now they know the cause of all the turmoil their lives have become. And only one thing is on their minds: vengeance. 

As with everything else, revenge comes at a price. And sometimes, the cost is far greater than one can bear. 

Can they live with their choices and the consequences? 

Or will the entire club feel more pain and loss?

** Please note, this is the final, full-length novel in the Ravage Motorcycle Club series. It is told from several different points of view, including but not limited to Buzz, Bella, Breaker, Pops, and Ma. Of course, in true Ryan Michele fashion, there are twists, turns, suspense, and action to keep you on your toes and the pages flying. Add in a feisty romance with alpha male hotness, including a m/f/m ménage scene, and like all the Ravage novels, it is intended for mature audiences only. **
INCLUDES A LIMITED EDITION
BONUS EPILOGUE WITH PURCHASE!

TO READ AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
Ryan Michele found her passion in making fictional characters come to life. She loves being in an imaginative world where anything is possible and has a knack for special twists readers don’t see coming.
She writes MC, Contemporary, Erotic, Paranormal, New Adult, Inspirational, and many more romances. And whether it’s bikers, wolf shifters, mafia, or beyond, Ryan spends her time making sure her heroes are strong and her heroines match them at every turn.
When she isn’t writing, Ryan is a mom and wife living in rural Illinois and reading by her pond in the warm sun.
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Excerpt Reveal :: A FOOL FOR YOU by Katee Robert

It’s just a belated goodbye, right? No harm, no foul.

 

A FOOL FOR YOU
Foolproof Love #3
Katee Robert
Releasing Oct 3rd, 2016
Entangled: Brazen

 

It’s been
thirteen years since Hope Moore left Devil’s Falls, land of sexy cowboys and
bad memories. Back for the weekend, she has no intention of seeing the man she
never got over…or the two of them getting down and dirty. It’s just a belated
goodbye, right? No harm, no foul.
Until six weeks later, when her pregnancy test comes back positive…

Daniel Rodriguez hasn’t forgiven himself for how things went down with Hope all
those years ago. He knows she’s better off without him, but when she shows up
on his doorstep, panicking because she’s pregnant with his baby, he can’t help
seeing it as a chance to make up for the past.

Too bad Hope has no intention of going along with his plans.

 
Pre-Order
 
 Chapter One
Hope Moore held her breath as she passed the sign declaring Welcome to Devil’s Falls. She hadn’t
crossed the town boundary in thirteen years, not since she sat next to an open
grave as they lowered her brother into the ground. Not since she turned her
back on her entire life here, whisked away by her parents to the best medical
facilities Texas had to offer.
She touched her
knee. She’d never cheered again, never run track, never done any of the things
she’d had planned when she was eighteen and had graduated high school with
stars in her eyes.
Stars in her eyes,
and love in her heart.
Neither had lasted
past that car crash.
Oh, it had taken the
love a lot longer to die than it had her knee, but Daniel Rodriguez made sure
she knew where she stood with him.
She caught herself
taking her foot off the gas and picked up speed again. There was no telling if
she’d see him while she was here, but it couldn’t matter. She’d moved past what
happened that night, moved past the disappointment that she’d almost let sour
everything else about her life. It might not have happened like she planned,
but she’d made the best of her college experience, and she’d gone on to create
a successful little niche for herself, helping people and institutions with too
much money on their hands create trusts and scholarships for those in need.
And now Hope was back
in town to finally do that in her brother’s memory.
She pulled onto Main
Street, heading for the only lodgings someone out of town with no relatives to
stay with would consider—Sara Jane’s B&B. It was a nice little place, but
Sara Jane was nosy to a criminal degree and gossiped more than anyone Hope had
ever come across. The second she checked in and went up to her room, everyone
with a phone would be getting a call letting them know that she was back in
town.
It wasn’t that it
was a secret, but she couldn’t help but feel that she’d always be John Moore’s
little sister, the one who survived when her older brother—her better in a lot
of ways—didn’t. She knew that was her own insecurity. She’d had too many
years of therapy to believe anything else, except in her darkest heart of
hearts, the place she didn’t let see the light any more than strictly
necessary.
But it was hard to
ignore that little voice when driving through Devil’s Falls. No, not through.
To.
This was her destination.
Her parents hadn’t
been too thrilled about her coming back, even for a limited time, but even they
couldn’t deny that this scholarship she was here to set up was a good thing—the
right way to honor John. He’d been in the middle of a full ride at the
University of Texas when he was killed, and it made sense to set it up to allow
other kids the opportunity he’d never be able to realize.
She pressed a hand
to her chest and pulled into the nearest parking spot against the curb. God,
even after all this time, it still hurts.
Most days it didn’t. He’d been
gone long enough that she’d processed her grief as much as one person could
process grief, and she was able to focus on the good memories.
Most days.
Her eyes focused on
the sign she’d been staring blindly at, and she frowned. Cups and Kittens. That was new. In a
town as mired in the past as Devil’s Falls, change was something of a novelty.
Or maybe she was biased in a negative way, because the only thing this town
held for her was memories. Some bad, mostly good, all dust now.
Pathetically
grateful for something external to focus on, she climbed out of her car and
looked at the cheery window painting depicting kittens frolicking in between
flowers.
The B&B could
wait a little while longer. Her meeting with the town board wasn’t until tomorrow,
so there was no reason she couldn’t do a little poking around in the meantime.
Thirteen years was a long time. If anyone had asked her, she would have joked
that she hadn’t expected anything about Devil’s Falls to change while she was
gone.
Apparently she’d
been wrong.
She pushed through
the door and froze in the face of a pair of cats staring at her from their
perch on a table overlooking the big window in the front. The sight surprised a
laugh out of her. “Cups and Kittens, indeed.”
“In the most literal
sense.”
She glanced over at
the woman behind the counter, a third cat lounging near the register.
Familiarity rolled over Hope. “Jules Rodriguez.” Daniel’s little cousin. Not so
little anymore. Last time she’d seen Jules, the girl had been lanky to an
almost awkward degree and had braces with bright green bands. She’d grown up
pretty, and there was more of Daniel about her now than there had been when she
was a kid.
Or maybe I’m just
back in Devil’s Falls and seeing Daniel wherever I look.
Jules’s dark eyes
cleared. “Hope? What are you doing back in town?” She hesitated. “I don’t
suppose you’re here to sweep my brooding cousin off his feet and shove him back
into real life?”
Her mind tripped
over itself trying to keep up with the other woman’s verbal gymnastics. Jules
had always been like that, now that she thought about it—a bright and bubbly
steamroller. She tried to weed her way through what the woman had just said,
but there was only one thing she could focus on. Daniel. Always Daniel. “What
do you mean, back into real life?”
“Well, you know.”
No, she really
didn’t. She studied Jules’s face, the way she wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Is
he okay?” She hadn’t missed the way Quinn Baldwyn had frozen up when she’d
asked that same question a few weeks ago at his sister’s wedding, and worry had
been simmering in the back of her mind ever since, no matter how many times she
told herself it wasn’t any of her business. Daniel was a grown man, and he had
always been more than capable of taking care of himself—and everyone else
around him. Things changed, but she couldn’t see that changing.
Jules shifted, her
hand darting out to pet the calico on the counter and then darting away when
the cat swiped at her. “Define okay.”
It was none of her
business. It stopped being her business a very long time ago.
But that didn’t stop
her from clearing her throat and asking, “Is he…is he married?” Did he build
the house we always talked about and have those two wild boys and one sweet
girl? Does he bring his wife waffles for breakfast in bed on the weekends?
Oh my God, stop.
But Jules was
already shaking her head, her mouth turning down. “Nope. No wife, no kids, no
serious relationship in, well, thirteen years.”
Hope blinked.
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was.” A
calculating look came into her eyes, but then she shook herself and it was all
guileless enthusiasm. “What are you doing for dinner?” She rushed on without
waiting for a response. “We’re having a little thing with Quinn and my friend
Aubry, and, well, I kind of went and married Adam Meyers.”
Some things really do change. She remembered Adam, the wild-eyed boy who’d
grown into a wild-eyed man, better than she remembered Jules. No one had
expected him to come back to Devil’s Falls after he blew out of town that last
time, let alone to settle here and…get married. “Wow. What’s Daniel have to say
about that?”
“He was best man at
our wedding.” Jules laughed. “Though he was pretty furious at the beginning.
Here, sit down. You look like you could use a coffee, and I’ll tell you the
story since we’re generally pretty dead Thursday nights. Then I’ll close up and
we can go to dinner. The boys will love to see you. Quinn was just talking
about you the other day.”
Hope wasn’t sure she
actually agreed to any of it, but the next thing she knew, she was drinking
coffee while a cat curled up in her lap and listening to Jules’s wild tale
about a fake relationship that turned into a real relationship. Somehow in the
middle of that, she was bundled up into Jules’s truck, and by then it was too
late to change her mind.
She settled into her
seat, consoling herself with the fact that Jules had very specifically not
mentioned Daniel’s name. There was no reason to think he’d be there, but it would
be nice to reconnect with some of her old friends. As much as it had hurt when
things went south with Daniel, knowing that she’d lost Quinn and Adam, too, had
just been salt in the wound. She’d chased them around since she could toddle
after her big brother and his friends, and they’d turned into true friends over
the years. She understood why they hadn’t reached out, but she wasn’t going to
turn down a chance to catch up with them.
It would probably be
the only nice thing about being back in Devil’s Falls.
“Not interested.”
“You haven’t even
heard what I’m asking.”
“Don’t need to.”
Daniel Rodriguez leaned down and unbuckled Rita’s saddle and hefted it off the
horse’s back. They’d had a good run today, the hot sun making it impossible to
think too hard about anything other than whether a human being could roast
alive in Texas in August. He hadn’t yet, so that put the odds ever so slightly
in his favor.
All he wanted was to
finish here and head back to his place for a cold shower and an even colder
beer.
It would just
fucking figure that the universe had other ideas. He glanced up, but Aubry
Kaiser hadn’t moved. In fact, with her arms crossed over her chest and her chin
up, all signs pointed to this adding up to an argument he couldn’t possibly
win.
Damn it.
“No.”
She frowned harder.
“It’s your birthday. You can’t just sit at home by yourself.”
“Since it’s my
birthday, this is the one day a year I should be able to do exactly that
with no one bitching at me.” He regretted the harsh words almost as soon as
they were out of his mouth, but Aubry wasn’t like his little cousin. She was
meaner than a rattler and twice as likely to bite.
She narrowed her
amber eyes at him. “Your cousin misses you.”
That explained why
she was out here when he knew for a fact she thought horses were akin to
goats—as in, the devil’s own creatures. Hell, she was giving poor Rita a
suspicious look even while guilt-tripping him using the one person in his life
he couldn’t say no to.
Which doesn’t
explain why Jules herself isn’t here.
“She sees me on a
regular basis.”
“This is your
birthday.” Aubry sighed and rolled her eyes, looking put-upon. “Look, it goes
like this—Jules has worked really hard to put together a surprise birthday
party for you, and if you don’t show up to be surprised, she’s going to be
crushed.”
He stared. “I don’t
want a surprise birthday party.” The fact that it was no longer a surprise said
a whole lot about Aubry’s priorities, and he couldn’t blame her for that.
“Look at my face.
This is the face of a woman who doesn’t give two fucks what you care about.
What I care about is Jules, and that means you’re going to go shower off
the smell of that animal and show up at their house in an hour, right on time.”
She paused, her brows slanting down in an expression that was downright
forbidding. “You helped me out not too long ago, so I’m going to do you a solid
and give you the lowdown. Ready?”
Fuck, no. “Sure.”
“Jules is worried
about you. Really worried. If you don’t show up tonight, she’s going to take
that as a sign to go forward with plan B.”
He knew he was going
to regret it, but he still asked, “What’s plan B?”
Aubry gave a tight
smile. “A full-scale intervention with everyone in your life, including your
parents. The kind where they sit you down in a circle and each speak their mind
in the most uncomfortable way possible until you’re ready to beg the ground to
swallow you whole.” Her smile dimmed. “She’s worried about you, Daniel.”
Everyone seemed
worried about him, though they usually did him the courtesy of at least trying
to hide the looks exchanged when they thought he wasn’t looking. The whispered
conversations with his various cousins and his parents. The never-ending work
that was only there because they were throwing him a goddamn bone. It didn’t
seem to matter that he hadn’t done anything requiring an intervention. He’d
just stopped enjoying the company of people, mostly because he was such shitty
company these days. But try telling that to the family, and they acted like he
had just confessed to being an ax murderer.
At least Jules had
mostly stayed out of it. Up until today.
He
grabbed the curry brush and went over Rita’s back. Aubry was right. Showing up
to a party he didn’t want on a day he sure as fuck didn’t feel like celebrating
was vastly preferable to the alternative. “Explain to me what the plan is.”
She gave a grin that
did nothing to reassure him. “Dinner and drinks. It’ll be nice. Adam and Quinn
miss you.”
“I see those
assholes every day.” Kind of hard not to when they worked the ranch alongside
him. It felt right to have Adam back, to have Quinn there, but at the same time
it was a constant reminder that they were a man short.
And it was his
fault.
“It’s different and
you know it,” Aubry continued, obviously enjoying how miserable he was. She’d
always been a mean one, which never failed to amuse him because Jules was her
polar opposite—as bright and happy as a spring day. Rita shifted in her stall,
and Aubry went even paler than she was normally. “Dinner starts at six. Don’t
be late.” Then she was gone, moving at a clip fast enough that a less cautious
man than Daniel would call it running.
He waited a good
five minutes before he followed, hauling the saddle into the tack room and
sorting out the bridle. He didn’t begrudge Quinn his happiness—or Adam, for
that matter—but sometimes it sure as fuck was hard to be around them and their
women. The fact that one of those women was his little cousin barely entered
into it.
He headed for his
truck and took the pitted dirt road leading around the edge of his parents’
property to the little house he’d built a few years ago. It wasn’t anything
fancy, but it got the job done, and it was far enough outside town that most
people thought twice before stopping by unannounced.
Most people not
including his family.
The shower did
nothing to ward off the feeling of pending doom. It wasn’t that he didn’t like
Jules or Adam or Quinn or whoever the fuck else was going to be at this damn
party, but he wasn’t in the partying sort of mood. Truth be told, he hadn’t
been in that mood for over a decade. It was almost enough to make him call the
whole thing off, but the knowledge that Jules would have no problem bringing
the party to him got him moving again. Not to mention the potential intervention
he needed like he needed a hole in the head.
At least if he went
there, he could hang out for the appropriate amount of time, make his excuses,
and slip out while everyone else was occupied. Two hours, tops.
Feeling
significantly better, he pulled on a pair of his favorite old jeans and a
T-shirt and grabbed his keys. It struck him as he walked out the door that he
was thirty-fucking-four years old. How the hell did that happen? He
shook his head. He knew damn well how that happened. One day turned into a
week, a month, a year, a decade. All while he kept on keeping, the world
changing around him, but never changing enough.
He glanced at his
watch. “Two hours starts when I get there.”

 

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee
Robert
learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. She found romance
novels at age twelve and they changed her life. When not writing sexy
contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games
with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and
planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

 

Start the Series Today

Release Blitz :: Loving London by Ellie Wade

Title: Loving London
Series: The Flawed Heart Series #3
Author: Ellie Wade
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 26, 2016

 

FLAWED
I left.
I followed my dream,
To write, to feel, to live.
But my life has no meaning without Loïc.
I’m fading.
I’m not whole, not me,
Without him.
Loving Loïc is how I breathe.
FLAWED
She’s gone,
I’m a hollow waste of space.
I can’t feel, can’t breathe, can’t fight,
Without London.
She’s who I am,
What I am supposed to be,
What I am supposed to do.
Loving London
Is how I live.

Ellie Wade resides in southwest Michigan with her husband, three young children, and two dogs. She has a Master’s degree in education from Eastern Michigan University and is a huge University of Michigan sports fan. She loves the beauty of her home state, especially the lakes and the gorgeous autumn weather. When she is not writing, you will find her reading, snuggled up with her kids, or spending time with family and friends. She loves traveling and exploring new places with her family.

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Sale Blitz for FIGHTING DIRTY

#OneClick for ONLY .99 cents
 
FIGHTING DIRTY
Worth the Fight #5
Sidney Halston
Released Jan 5th, 2016
Loveswept

 

If
you love the MMA romances of Vi Kreeland and Kendall Ryan, Sidney Halston’s
Worth the Fight series will knock your socks off! In Fighting Dirty, a
geek-chic cage fighter proves that appearances can be deceiving . . . and
oh-so-tempting.
With
his preppy clothes and horn-rimmed glasses, Enzo Silva is the last dude anyone
expects to find in a mixed martial arts gym. A wealthy Brazilian banker who
never had to fight for anything, Enzo’s stuck in the amateur circuit—but he
burns to make the pros. Maybe that explains the heat he feels whenever he’s
around Jamie Lynn Calhoun. The pint-size, magenta-haired bartender with the
Texas drawl is everything he’s not . . . and everything he craves.
Tough
as nails and independent to a fault, Jamie Lynn—JL to her friends—works hard to
pay her bills and keep life simple. Enzo is doing his best to complicate that.
Even though she likes to bust his balls, he’s got some kind of a nerdy-hot vibe
that makes JL wonder if she might finally be able to let her guard down. It
might do the boy some good to spend some time in her world, where blood, sweat,
and victory are as sweet as the first taste of real love.
Only .99 cents
 

 

 

Sidney Halston lives her life
by one simple rule: “Just do it.” And that’s exactly what she did. At the age
of thirty, having never written anything other than a legal brief, she picked
up a pen for the first time to pursue her dream of becoming an author. That first
stroke sealed the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Halston lives in
South Florida with her husband and children.

 

Release Blitz:: Millionaire

The 1st Book in the Laundromat Chronicles Series is LIVE!
 
Cash Green has it all. Money. Career. Penthouse. Women. What Cash doesn’t have is love. He’s never wanted more than his one night stands and casual flings. When he accompanies his grandmother to the Laundromat as a favor to her, a strange woman causes him to question his entire way of life.
 
Just when the millionaire thinks he’s ready to leave behind his playboy ways, his past indiscretions come back to haunt him. Can Cash be the man he knows he was born to be or will the call of the past destroy his future?
 
 
Buy Links Coming Soon


 
(Please delete if not reviewing)
 


 
Angie Merriam resides in the beautiful Pacific NorthWest and is happily married to her best friend. She and her husband have three wonderful children and two crazy cats.
When she’s not writing she loves barbeque’s with family and friends, photography, movies, music, and of course reading. She was influenced by the works of Diana Gabaldon, Stephanie Meyer, Nora Roberts and Danielle Steele.
 

 

Cover Reveal :: Endless Obsession

3…2…1….

COVER REVEAL!

I’ve silently watched her for a year, staying hidden in the shadows, biding my time.

She may know me as two different men, but she doesn’t have a clue what I’ve done.

She unknowingly became mine the minute my eyes touched her beauty.

But I’ve done things. Things she may not be able to forgive.

I know all her secrets, her habits, her preferred coffee, what she does in her spare time, her favorite lingerie brand, even that she sleeps naked.

At night, I watch her from her window. During the day, I watch her from my computer. She innocently bares her heart and body to me, and I soak up every single fucking second.

I’ve stayed away, but I’m tired of watching from afar. It’s time Poppy finds out just who I am and what I’m willing to do to take what’s mine. She may hate me when she finds out my what I’ve done, but she has no choice but to accept it.

She will be my wife.
She will mother my children.
I will claim every part of her heart, body, and soul.
Anything else is unacceptable.

Poppy Lexington has become my endless obsession. I will become her uncontrollable addiction.

  

The woman frantically tries to get the key in the lock before he reaches her, but isn’t fast enough when he stops at her back. She spins around as he bends at the waist, trying to catch his breath. Fucking asshole is so weak he can’t even catch his breath after jogging twenty feet. Again, my dick takes notice at the harsh look on her face as she watches the guy.

He stands and says something to her. I can’t hear through the window of my Lexus, but whatever it is, causes the woman to curl her lip up in disgust. She cocks out a hip, throws her hand on it, pokes his chest with her other hand, and screeches loud enough for me to hear. “You pig! Stay the hell away from me!”

A rumbling laugh escapes my lips as I witness the firecracker take down the idiot in front of her. She’s so different than the woman I know. I can’t really blame the guy for trying. After all, I’m just as fascinated with her as he is. Hell, I’ve been watching the woman for a year now. The first time I saw her I had just walked out of Colt’s office. He’s a good friend of mine, who also happens to be a client. Something caught my attention, and I looked over and nearly fell to my knees at the beauty sitting on the brown plush leather couch in the waiting area. After unsticking my jaw from the floor, I turned to him to demand he tell me who she was.

“Poppy Lexington,” he supplied, looking down at a file in his hand. “She’s here for an interview for the receptionist position.”

Without thinking, I told him immediately, “Don’t hire her.”

Even though my eyes were glued to Poppy, I still felt his questionable stare.

“Refer her to my office. Make up some excuse if you have to… I don’t care. Just get her to my office.”

When he didn’t answer after several seconds of silence, I turned to him and caught him watching me warily. I raised a brow in question. No words were spoken—none were needed. He knew I was serious by the look on my face.

Since that day  I’ve lived, breathed, and slept Poppy. I know where she lives, obviously, and I also know where she works, who her family and friends are, her favorite foods, and how she takes her coffee. I know what she does on weekends and holidays, what size shoe she wears, what shampoo she uses, and the brand of her toothpaste. I know her mortgage and car payment, when they are due, what credit cards she has, and even the purchases she’s made with them. I know the layout of her house, what’s in her closet, that she likes expensive lingerie, and that she sleeps nude. The first time I witnessed the latter, I damn near lost control and gave myself up. I ended up jacking off in a pair of her silk panties.

Sick? Yes, absolutely. But it was either that or crawl into bed with her, which wasn’t an option. I’m not up to getting thrown in jail for breaking and entering, or taking the chance of her finding me out. Fuck no. I need her too much. I need her to know and accept me, without making a mess of things.

It wasn’t until recently, the last few months, that I’d gotten into a position where I could approach her the way I want to. However, I’m not ready yet. I’m having too much fun with my current game with regards to her. A game she knows nothing about, but still participates in. Hell, who am I kidding? This isn’t a game, it’s more of an uncontrollable obsession. I love watching her, knowing she’s oblivious to it. It turns me on more than I’ve ever been before.

I think it may be time to change things a bit though. Make it more thrilling. I plan to reveal myself to her soon, my body is in constant demand of that, and I know my control will snap soon, but the timing needs to be perfect.

I have a key to her house and frequently visit her while she sleeps. When I can’t be there in person, which has happened too much for my liking, I can always pull up the video feed I have on my phone and computer. Yes, I have cameras in her house, as well. The woman has completely taken over my mind and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. Not that I want to. Poppy’s mine, she just hasn’t been informed of it yet.

Some might say I’m sick and demented, that I should be locked away for my obsessive behavior. That may be true, but I’m not the typical kidnap-the-victim-and-rape-and-torture-stalker. I have no desire to hurt Poppy. I won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. I won’t kill her if I can’t have her, but I’ve embraced my obsession and will use every damn thing I have in my power to prove to her that she belongs to me, and only me. She will know that I’m the only man for her and that I will love, cherish, and worship the very fucking ground she walks on.


Alex Grayson is originally from the south, but has recently moved to Northern Ohio. Although she misses the warmth of Florida and often times detest the cold of Ohio, she absolutely loves living in the north. Her and her husband bought a house on two acres of land and live there with their daughter, son, one dogs, two cats, eight ducks, and three chickens. She hopes to eventually get a couple of goats to add to their country way of living. Besides her family and home, her next best passion is reading. She is often found with her nose obsessively stuck in a book, much to the frustration of her husband and daughter. On more than one occasion Alex found herself wanting a book to go a certain way, but it didn’t. With these thoughts in mind, she decided to start writing stories according to her own visions. Although this is a new endeavor for her, she hopes that readers find her concepts on romance intriguing and captivating. Alex welcomes and encourages feedback, of any kind. She can be contacted at alexgraysonauthor@gmail.com.

    

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