Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Going Down Hard by Carly Phillips

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Going Down Hard, a sexy new standalone from Carly Phillips is now LIVE!!!

Going Down Hard by Carly Phillips 

Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Billionaire Bad Boys: Rich, Powerful and sexy as hell.
Derek West rose from poverty to take the tech world by storm. He's sexy, confident and gets any woman he wants. And who he wants is Cassie Storm, the rich girl he's never been good enough for.
She's desperate to save her family's company and there's only one man who can help. But Derek isn't interested in helping. He wants to possess both the company and the woman he's never been able to forget.
His plan? To seduce her out of his head. Except once he's had a taste of Cassie, he doesn't want to let her go. Her family remembers where he came from, and they won't allow it. When the truth about their pasts comes to light, though, it may be Cassie who's going down hard.
*All Billionaire Bad Boys Novels can be read as standalones.*
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Review
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆


Revenge is a dish best served cold.  

Billionaire Derek is after revenge on the family who ruined his and felt that they were better than him.  The fact that Cassie is one of this family and she snubbed his romantic advances.  Cassie has always resented her family's attitude towards people and wants to prove herself in people and wants to prove herself in saving the family company.  Part of this plan involves interviewing Derek....

I loved the fact that Derek is determined to bring Cassie down but she is not who he thinks she is and results in his softening towards her and his plan changes to help her rather than destroy her.  Cassie is unpretentious and willing to work hard what she wants.  There was certainly chemistry between these two that is off the charts hot yet sweet at the same time.  This was a highly enjoyable read.

Read Today!

Google Play: https://goo.gl/ynpok8
Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/PKB0IZ
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Meet Carly Phillips:

Carly Phillips is the N.Y. Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 50 sexy contemporary romance novels, including the Indie published, Dare to Love Series. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, the mother of two nearly adult daughters and three crazy dogs. Carly loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers. 6-1p0a8410_1

Connect with Carly:

Sign up for Carly’s Newsletter at: http://www.carlyphillips.com/newsletter-sign-up/ Sign up for Blog and Website updates at: http://www.carlyphillips.com/blog Sign up for Text Updates of New Releases: http://tinyurl.com/p3upm5s Friend Carly on Facebook: www.facebook.com/carlyphillipsfanpage Hang out at Carly’s Corner! (Hot guys & giveaways!) http://smarturl.it/CarlysCornerFB Instagram: https://instagram.com/carlyphillips Twitter: www.twitter.com/carlyphillips Website: www.carlyphillips.com

Scars and Tats by Kristi Pelton







Title: Scars and Tats
Author: Kristi Pelton
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 21, 2017



Blurb


Scars are tattoos with better stories…

A scarred, lonely woman
A curious little boy
One uninvited, tattooed guest
A nasty blizzard
One cabin
Two guns
A set of handcuffs

What could possibly go wrong?

Mela McKinley fled with her infant son and disappeared four years ago trying to heal the awful scars inside and out. Taking refuge in the mountains of Colorado, not one person had come near their secluded doorstep… though she was prepared for a fight.

In the middle of a historic blizzard, little Beck points out the window to a figure approaching in the snow. After hiding Beck…and fully armed, Mela confronts Jackson Winslow and has zero reservations about shooting him, if necessary.

Ultimately, saving him from the forces of nature, she takes the uninvited stranger prisoner in her home holding the upper hand. While cautiously tending to him, she realizes how much she has missed a man—though this scarred and tattooed man is not who he seems. Once he has invaded her thoughts in a delicious way, her guard is down and suddenly, the tables are turned and now…it’s his turn.

What she doesn’t know is who he really is and what he brings to her doorstep.








Review
Rating: ☆☆☆☆☆

Scars are permanent something that can't be erased weather it's a fiscal scar or emotional. Mela tries her hardest to not always say no to sex with Ian. Ian's mother can't stand Mela she has her confused with her twin sister. A tragic accident ripped her husband away from her. Ari is back to help Mela out in the best way she can think of. She gets mela out with the help of her biker friends. While Mela was in hiding a man. Who she and Beck didn't know was walking around in a snow storm. Mela told Beck to get to his hiding place and to not come out until the signal was given.
Mela is determined to keep her son out of Ian's mothers reach. She is a very good mother, protective. Beck is Melas son he is four years old. He is very wise for the age of four. Jackson was the intruder. He is a lawyer from Denver. He wants to know what Mela is hiding from. Layne is Mela and Becks friend. He taught her about cross fit. Ari is Melas twin sister, her choice of job was bad for her sister. Rock is Aris friend he will do anything to keep Mela and Beck safe.He is part of of scars and warriors MC. Duckie is a doctor and part of the scars and warrior MC. Aris friend. Two is aris friend and part of the scars and warriors MC. Lawyer.
This is my first book by Kristi Pelton and I can honestly say that this book will not be my last. I loved that I was drawn into the story from the first page. I found this book very hard to put down and I loved how well this book is written and how I felt very connected to the characters and how well they were developed. I know that this is one book that I will be able to read again and again.

Purchase Links


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU







Trailer




Excerpt


If only it were still Christmas, I thought, in awe of the amount of snow that had fallen through the morning hours this spring. Beck in his newly four-year-old way pressed his forehead against the floor-to-ceiling window, watching in wonder as his breath formed a pillow of condensation that quickly disappeared. Over and over again.

The teakettle whistled, and I fingered through his hair as I walked past.

“Momma. Snow.”

I laughed. “Yes, buddy. Lots of snow.”

The whistle of the kettle faded when I pulled it from the heat, pouring Beck a hot chocolate and me my tea. The two ice cubes in his mug began to melt instantly.

“Momma, Layne.”

Stirring honey into my tea, I put one more ice cube in his cup and carried the miniature marshmallows over to him.

“No, buddy. We won’t see Layne today,” I explained, sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, which needed wood.

“Layne is right there,” he said, tapping the window.

A sudden chill shuddered up my spine as the hair on the back of my neck stood. In slow motion, my eyes moved to where Beck pointed. The figure stood a hundred yards away, thigh deep in snow. My heart began to pound. The pack on his back showed over his shoulders. I watched through the glass as the steps he tried to take led him in the direction of the cabin.

Sitting my mug on the end table, a jolt of panic shot through me but was quickly calmed by a wave of courage—of confidence.

“Beck. Come here. Now.” My words were terse, and he immediately padded over to me.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know who this is, and my job is what?”

“To protect me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “To protect you. Always.”

He smiled.

“Go. Go now to your cubbyhole. You know where your food is. You know where the water bottles are. You don’t come out until Mommy comes to get you.”

“Or Layne!” he shouted.

“Yes. Or Layne. But you and Layne have a code word and no one else knows that word. So don’t come out unless you hear that word. Got it?” Tears started to sting my eyes, but I fought with every ounce of my being not let them win.

“Yes. Go now?”

“Yep! Go now, buddy. I love you.”

“I love you more!” he yelled as he ran to his hiding spot.

The moment he was gone from my view, I turned my sights on our visitor. Thank God the snow was causing him to struggle. I unhinged the loaded shotgun from the back of the front door, then retrieved the forty-caliber from behind the coffee mugs. Both guns were pumped and cocked with the chambers full in a matter of seconds. Without a coat, I stepped out onto the porch.

“Turn around right now and go back the way you came. Follow your tracks!” I yelled.

He stopped, held his hands out to the side and swayed a bit in the wind. “I need help.” His voice was muffled from the scarf covering his mouth.

“You won’t find that here. Move along,” I shouted, then tucked the pistol into my pants. Raising the shotgun to my shoulder, I nestled it tight, resting my cheek against the cold steel while I sighted him down the barrel. The pistol would be a better choice—but the shotgun may have more effect. Rock’s mom had taught me well.

“Please,” he said weakly, swaying again.

I watched as the snow cascaded. There was no wind.

“Mister. I’m warning you now. Don’t come closer.”

After another strenuous step in the near three-foot-deep snow, he stumbled backward—falling. He lay there for a minute. Hurriedly, I seized the opportunity to grab the binoculars—Beck’s toy, plastic ones, but they worked nonetheless.

Bursts of steam puffed from his mouth straight into the air. One hand rose weakly, then collapsed back down, disappearing into the powdery snow. Through the scratched-up binoculars, I watched as he mustered up enough energy to heave himself upright. Still sitting, he pulled the scarf away from his mouth exposing red, swollen lips. Quickly, I lowered the binoculars, taking him in more thoroughly. His shoes and legs were hidden in the snow. Chunks of snow clung to the North Face jacket he wore. His eyes were heavy…thick lids blinked deliberately and sluggishly.

Snow fell so heavily…a thin blanket covered him in the minute I stood frozen. Making a hasty decision, I dashed into the house once again and grabbed the handcuffs Rock’s mom had given me. From the time I darted inside to when I got back out, he hadn’t moved. Just inside the door, I clicked my snowshoes in place and threw my coat on. The pistol tucked tightly into my waistband, handcuffs in my coat pocket, and ski poles in hand…I began my trek toward him.

When I purchased the snowshoes, I had no real intention of wearing them too terribly much but they’d been on my feet more than I thought they would. Our unwanted visitor was still on his back with little to no movement. His breaths were visible in the puffs of steam in the air.

“Please don’t shoot me,” he begged albeit weakly.

“Why are you here?”

“I got caught in the storm.”

Frozen snot trailed over his upper lip.

“Why were you out here? I mean to begin with. What brought you here? There’re no trails this way.” My demanding questions spewed out quickly.

The puffs of air turned to short raspy pants.

“Lost. I…just…wanted—to get lost.”

I didn’t believe him. Anger consumed me as my hand trembled when I reached to touch him. Be strong always. The second my fingertips brushed his fiery skin; I sucked in a quick breath. He was burning up. Fever. Damn it!

Instantly, I turned around hoofing it back to the cabin and yanked Becks sled out of the corner of the front porch. Within a minute, I was back at his side. A low groan slid up his throat as I lifted him by the shoulders and scooted his upper body onto the sled. After I’d boosted his legs over, I began the trek back to the cabin remembering Beck was still in hiding. My quads and glutes burned from the haul.

Once I pulled him to the porch clearing the steps, I took a minute to breathe. Thank God, I’d trained enough to be able to heave his ass up there. He seemed to have lost consciousness at some point because as I cuffed him, he didn’t flinch. It wasn’t until I’d lugged him inside next to the fire that I exposed his hands—finding bluish tinted fingers. Instinctively, I blew on them as if they were Beck’s little fingers and I’d done that a hundred times when he’d gotten cold. How could this man’s fingers be so cold yet he was burning up with fever?

I tossed his gloves near the fire so they could dry out and warm up. The sooner I could get him out of here, the better. His fingers were swollen.

I hustled toward the hideout. “Beck!” I shouted with a whisper. “WOD. It’s ok. Come here. Mommy needs your help.”

When I pulled off the man’s stocking cap, I was captivated for a moment by his face. Though his cheeks appeared sunken in and dark rings circled his eyes, he was a beautifully, rugged man. His thick brows matched the overgrown beard. The tip of his nose was shiny and bright.

“Mommy. Who is that?”

Directing my attention toward Beck, I gave him a serious look.

“This man is sick. I need you to get me two of your cereal bowls of warm water. Not hot, ok?”

He nodded eagerly, and I watched him grab his stool and heave it into the kitchen. I felt awful keeping the man handcuffed, but I couldn’t take a chance with someone I didn’t know. I heard the water running in the kitchen and, in this moment, I was proud of the way I’d raised Beck. He needed to be independent if necessary—even if at barely four years old.

Hustling to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, I grabbed the lip butter and the ibuprofen. I darted to the kitchen and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge.

“How’s it going?”

“Good,” Beck said, walking slowly trying not to spill any water from his miniature cereal bowls—his tiny hands could barely manage.

We met near the visitor. I took the bowls from Beck.

“Nice job, buddy. Thank you.”

When Beck knelt next to him, my heart skipped a beat. Gripping Beck’s shoulders, I shook him just enough to keep his attention and for him to realize I meant business.

“We don’t know him, Beck. You must keep your distance from him. Deal?”

He nodded, backing up. “Pickle,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “You are so silly. It’s dill not deal.”

My beautiful son smiled, then found a seat on the sofa.

Kneeling next to the stranger, I balanced the bowls of water on his thighs, and then rested his fingers in the water. I tipped his head, angling his neck so his face pointed toward the ceiling. I attempted to pour some of the water through his parted lips. He instantly sputtered and choked—liquid coming back out, but thankfully his eyes opened.

“Mister,” I said.

His glossy eyes tried to focus.

“I need you to swallow this.” I kept his head upright, dropped three ibuprofen into his mouth and then tipped the bottle to his lips. When I saw his Adam’s apple jut out and back in, I knew he’d swallowed them. That was a start.

“Mommy. What’s his name?” Beck asked from the sofa.

His jeans were wet. Jeans? How ill prepared was this idiot for the storm? After I moved the bowls of water, I unfastened his jeans and began tugging them off. The elastic band of his underwear read Armani. Perfect…wealthy and dumb.

I fought looking at his crotch but the damn trunks hugged him tightly, and honestly, there was no ignoring the relaxed bulge. Once I had his jeans off, I laid them out in front of the fire, adding more wood, and then covered his lower half with a quilt. Out of sight, out of mind. And I certainly didn’t need Beck asking questions.

His lips were in pretty bad condition so I slathered a thick layer of the lip butter over them. His lower lip was full…plump. Jesus… narcolepsy really wasn’t my thing. But, hey, he was only unconscious not dead

“Mommy. What’s his name?”

“I’m sorry, Beck. I don’t know. Hold on a sec.”

I reached for his jeans, and, sure enough, the back pocket held a wallet. When I opened it, a Colorado driver’s license lay behind a thin piece of plastic.

“His name is Jackson,” I announced. “Jackson Winslow,” I whispered beneath my breath and stole a long glance at our bearded stranger.

For the first time, I noticed his hair was longer on one side. This man…this stranger was stunningly handsome. Ruggedly beautiful. I shook my head trying to erase any desire. It had been so long since I had felt the touch of a man. Yet, this man could have been sent here to find us…to hurt us…to take Beck. He was off limits.

Night was falling and the moon cast a beautiful reflection off the three-foot blanket of snow. Beck and I played checkers at the kitchen table. The flickering light of the fireplace flung shadows over the walls. Our stranger seemed to be resting peacefully.

Even though I felt bad for him being cuffed, my sole purpose for living sat across from me, and I had to do whatever was necessary to protect him.

“Buddy. Want to sleep in the hideout?”

Beck’s eyes about bulged out of his head.

“Can I?”

I stood up. “Yep. Let’s get you in there and situated.”

Beck hopped out of his chair, dashing up to his room. There wasn’t anything that could make me smile bigger than witnessing his enthusiasm for life. The boy was a spitting image of his father. Most days that was good.

There was no way of knowing or even speculating what the night could hold…so I told Beck he could come out if he needed.

Once he was hunkered down under his covers, inside his tent, with his night light on…I closed the door. I hustled to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, threw on my comfy sweats to sleep in, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before I stared blankly at the heap of man on my living room floor.

When my eyes finally adjusted to the glow from the fireplace, I noticed Jackson twitching. As I crept closer, I saw he wasn’t twitching; his body shook with tremors. Instinctively, the back of my fingers felt his forehead. Wow. He was burning up. Again.

Immediately, I ran to the kitchen, wetting a rag with cold water. Back in the living room, his eyes shot wide as the cold material made contact with his skin.

A small groan echoed up his throat, but as fast as his eyes opened, they closed. Without thinking, I yanked all the covers off of his body. I hated the ignorance of the—smother the fever philosophy. His body needed to cool down…quickly. Leaving him uncovered and with the cloth on his forehead, I got another bottle of water and snatched both the ibuprofen and the thermometer from the cupboard.

When I slid the digital thermometer between his lips, I realized some of the redness was gone. The lip butter was helping. Once again, his eyes opened. For the briefest of moments, our eyes met before his closed again.

At 104, the thermometer stopped blinking.

“Wow,” I whispered out loud, turning the cloth on his forehead to the cooler side.

“Wow,” he moaned or ow, I’m not sure which, but it caused me to sit back a bit, distancing myself. “Aaah.”

My stranger seemed delirious. The fever. It had to be the fever.

“Jackson. I need you to swallow these.” I lifted his head and slid my folded legs beneath him. I dropped four capsules in his mouth, then as gently as possible, I slapped his cheek…his beard was rough to my fingers, but regardless, his eyes opened.

I tipped the cold bottle of water to his lips. “Swallow,” I demanded, and he did. And once again, our eyes connected. Even though I stared down at him, and he was upside down to me, the force of whatever passed between us triggered me to drop his head and jerk away.

What the living hell? Did I know him? My left hand trembled as I set the water bottle next to him. Not that he could drink it. Both his hands were bound by metal. The clock read 10:15. The fever should be down within an hour. I’d check on him them. Other than that, I wanted nothing to do with him.

Sitting on the sofa, my eyes flickered back and forth between the fire and him. I heard Layne’s words in my ear. Information is good. Always find out what you can. I uncovered and picked up Jackson’s wallet from where I left it earlier.

Colorado drivers license. His picture was perfect. Who’s drivers license pic looked that good? Thirty-one years old. Six foot two. One hundred ninety pounds. Blue eyes. Organ donor. Ian was an organ donor and I had no idea if his organs were donated. If he was living inside someone else…

This man had no pictures of girls, family, kids, no pictures at all.

One Visa card.

One American Express card.
And some sort of ID. His picture—he looked younger but still strikingly handsome. United States Attorney. This man was an attorney. My mind raced in a thousand directions. I dropped his wallet at my feet. What brought this attorney in our direction? I couldn’t help but wonder if he came intentionally to my cabin or if this was some kind of fluke. But, if this man was looking for a fight…a war…he came to the right doorstep. I was ready.





Author Bio

Just the fact that someone may be reading my ‘bio’ thrills me. What does one say in an author bio? Well, I LOVE to write! Sometimes characters talk to me in my head (in a non-psychotic way) and I have to get what they are saying out on paper! So, here we are! 😊

I am a part-time juvenile probation officer and full time wife…but I spend the majority of the time helping my two favorite sons (only 2) navigate through life and hopefully become the best humans they can be.

I am a huge fan of the Kansas Jayhawks, the Oregon Ducks and the 2016 World Series Champs—the Chicago Cubs! (I have a dog named Wrigley)

I’m terribly addicted to music—ALLLLL kinds and driving in the car with the sunroof open and radio turned up helps the creative juices flow.

I am deliciously addicted to queso, Dr. Pepper, and cupcakes; but even with all that…I like to slowly kill my body with Crossfit.

People ask me ‘what has been your favorite book to write’—I would have to say my original series. (I think it sold 100 copies) 😊 Someday…I may have to tweak them a bit because my heart was poured into those books—but they need help! Slick was my Amazon best seller…but every one of them mean something to me.

In the end, I truly believe life is taken way too seriously by most…I say enjoy every moment, have an adult beverage and READ!! Cheers….




 Author Links

Bare Wires by Cherime MacFarlane

BARE WIRES
The MacGrough Clan Series, prequel to Wired for Sound (coming soon)
by Cherime MacFarlane

Rhys by D.B. James

Title: Rhys
Author: D.B. James
Genre:  Romantic Suspense
Release Date: February 23, 2017
He has everything planned… except her. Rhys lives a life of solitude — one he’s perfectly content with. That is until his friend Vinny is found murdered. There are secrets and half-truths at every corner, but he’s determined to find out what happened. Averill is exactly where she wants to be in life after years of running. She’s opened her own boutique and can finally breathe again. She thought she was safe… until her world collides with the dark shadows of Rhys’. When he unknowingly puts her in the path of a serial killer, will he be able to protect her? Even if it means becoming the killer he’s trained to be?
D.B. James is an indie author of New Adult Romance. Her debut novel will release on August 19, 2016. In her spare time she's an avid reader. Colleen Hoover, Tarryn Fisher, Teagan Hunter, KA Tucker, Linda Kage, Renee Carlino, and Abbi Glines are a few of her obsessions. She's a Michigan girl through and through but currently resides in sunny Florida. Sarcasm, Supernatural (team Sam!), Harry Potter and coffee are among her favorite things.
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Dare To Dream by CA Harms

DARE TO DREAM by CA Harms
SERIES: A Carolina Beach Novel 
GENRE: Contemporary Romance
AVAILABLE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED 
RELEASE DATE: February 14th 2017



After the sudden death of his wife two years ago, Darren Griffin has finally found peace. He has a good life, good job, two daughters he’d do anything for, and a beautiful home on the beach.
Greer Monroe is grieving the loss of her father. It’s the final rung on the broken ladder that’s become her life—crappy job, no friends, and a cheating ex-boyfriend. At the insistence of her aunt, Greer decides to spend some time at her family’s beach house.
When the glee-filled sound of children’s laughter dances through the breeze, Greer finds herself smiling again. The neighbor girls are carefree, depicting a life Greer has only dreamed about. Husband, children, happiness—a family. And their father, Darren, he’s everything a woman could ever want.
But it is, of course, only a dream.
She can’t stay at Carolina Beach, no matter how much she adores Darren and his daughters. She has responsibilities at home, a mother who needs her. Where there’s love, there’s heartbreak, and she can’t go through that again. And she sure as hell won’t do that to those little girls.
But Darren isn’t letting her go that easily. It’s been so long since he’s felt this way for anyone. Greer is his missing piece, a piece he never thought he’d find.
Saying goodbye is hard, but sometimes starting over is even harder.
Only when they dare to dream again, will they ever dare to love.
Darren’s POV 
“Are they both asleep?” Greer asked as I stepped out onto the deck and handed her a glass of wine. 

“Yes,” I said. “They both slowly gave in after they talked about you for at least ten minutes.” 

She smiled as she lifted the glass to her mouth. I couldn’t help but watch closely as it came in contact with her plump, full lips, distracting me from my thoughts. The way she tipped the glass and the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed was so sexy. 

“I had a great time; they’re both amazing,” she assured me as she lowered her glass and brought it to rest on the deck railing. 

I was lost for a moment watching her profile as she looked out toward the water in the distance. She appeared so at peace, so settled. It was a feeling I wasn’t familiar with. Instead I found myself wanting to do whatever it took to keep her. 

I stepped closer and my movements caused her to look up. Without any further delay, fearing if I didn’t do it now, I wouldn’t make the move, I lifted my hand and skimmed my palm over her cheek as I slid it farther into her hair. 

“I don’t think I told you that you’re amazing,” I whispered as I moved my body even closer to hers, feeling her chest pressed firmly to mine. 

“You did, but I sort of like hearing it,” she confessed as her eyes shifted from mine to my mouth, then back again to meet my gaze. 

There was a silent pause just before I moved in, finally closing that last amount of distance between us. Her lips pressed to mine, and I hooked my arm around her waist and held her as close as I possibly could. A gentle brush of my tongue caused her lips to part, and I moved in, taking full advantage. That was the kind of guy I was, demanding, greedy. I just hadn’t been him for so long. But Greer ignited a need inside me that had been hidden someplace down deep. 

It felt extraordinary to be a man with needs and wants and to act on them again. It was freeing and natural, and I knew in that moment that had I allowed my desires to go as far as my mind was screaming for them to go, I would have had her backed up against the house and panting my name in seconds. 

But I had to move slowly, not only for her but for me. Because Greer, I could already tell, could be very addicting. 

I pulled back from the kiss and rested my forehead against hers, and for a moment we both just remained connected, breathing as evenly as possible. My pulse raced and my body hummed from just one kiss. My lips tingled, begging for more. 

She slid her hand beneath the back of my shirt, and the connection ignited my need again as I took her mouth once more. This time, I devoured her lips. The desire to stop was now long gone, replaced by deep hunger. 

“Darren,” she panted against my mouth as she dug her fingers into my back. 

“I know,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I was telling her I felt it too, or maybe I was agreeing that this was just too much. 

I was torn between stopping this before it went further and taking what I needed. 

“Daddy.” 

My daughter’s voice broke us apart, and I backed away from Greer as if an ice-cold glass of water had been dumped over me. 

Greer fumbled to right herself and knocked her wineglass onto the floor in the process. The look on her face gave me all the confirmation I needed that the moment we’d shared was now over.
A little about me. Let’s see where to start.
I love HEA stories, as long as they come packing a little heat. I need some excitement, some angst, and moments that make me fan my face are always good too. I am an Illinois girl, born and raised. Simple and true, it honestly doesn’t take much to make me happy. I love the little things; they truly mean the most. I may have a slight addiction to my new Keurig—oh my, that thing is a godsend. And so fast too. I have two children who truly are my very best friends, and their faces never fail to put a smile on my face. I have been married to my husband for sixteen years, and even though at times I want to beat him with a stick, I would never change the years we have had. We have learned and fallen, only to pick each other up, dust off the ache, and help each other make it right.
I am one of those authors that adore my fans. I love to hear from you. After all, it is because of each one of you that I continue to write. I look forward to your feedback.
Be sure to follow me to stay up-to-date on all my upcoming releases.
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