#preorder Badger (Roosters series) by Harley Wylde & Paige Waren #bikerromance #MCromance #EroticRomance @HarleyW_Writer @AuthorPaigeW @changelingpress

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Badger – I went to prison for ten years after beating a man to death. He deserved it, and then some. I only wish he’d suffered more. Now I’m free, but things aren’t the same as when I left. The little girl I once saved is now a tempting young woman with curves in all the right places. I should stay away, far away, but I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The Pres of my club adopted her, so she’s definitely a no-fly zone, but fuck if I don’t want her with every breath I take. A little sample wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? As long as Griz doesn’t find out, I’ll keep breathing. Sneaking around should be easy enough. I never counted on falling for her, or finding out she was carrying my kid. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m a long-time repeat offender. I can’t walk the straight and narrow. Can I?

Adalia – I’ve worshiped Badger ever since the night he saved me. But what started as a young girl’s infatuation has grown into something more. I know he’ll never see me that way, or at least I thought he wouldn’t. When we’re together, it’s like we just can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s probably against his parole for us to be together, but he doesn’t seem to care. The heat between us is undeniable. He didn’t promise me forever, just right now. But neither of us counted on me getting pregnant, something that wasn’t supposed to happen too easily, and I have no freakin’ clue what to do. I’m scared Badger will run for the hills. He never asked for this, but then neither did I. One thing is for certain. If he doesn’t man up and my daddy finds out, there will be hell to pay. No one can hide from the President of the Devil’s Fury MC.

Pre-Order for August 3rd at AmazonB&NiTunes, and Kobo

Roosters is a multi-author series of stand-alone stories released by Changeling Press. Each book contains an arrogant, alpha hero in a contemporary romance setting. While Badger is an MC romance, not all of the Roosters books fall under this theme. You can find the other Roosters books by clicking here.

 

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This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. 

 

The trip back to Blackwood Falls took too fucking long, and I was feeling anxious. It had been a long damn time since I’d been in a vehicle, and I’d much rather have spent the hour-long ride on my Harley. Soon enough, I’d take it out on the open road, and just let the tension melt away. The only thing sweeter than a ride on my bike was being between a woman’s thighs.

As Demon stopped outside the clubhouse, he tensed and turned to face me. I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth, but something told me it wasn’t anything I wanted to hear.

“There’s something you need to know,” Demon said.

“Anyone die while I was gone?”

“No. It’s about Adalia.”

My breath froze in my lungs as I pictured her wide blue eyes as they’d stared at me in terror. I’d found her in an alley, her clothes torn, and some asshole raping her. I’d seen her around town, knew she was only thirteen, just a kid. Something inside me had snapped, and I’d beat the fuck out of that asshole. Beat him to death. I didn’t regret what I’d done, only wished I’d gotten there sooner. Adalia had watched as I killed that man, and she hadn’t uttered a word the entire time. Not even when I took her to the hospital to be checked out. I’d known it wouldn’t end well for me, but my first priority had been the girl. Anyone else might have gotten off with a lighter sentence, seeing as how I’d been protecting her. But a guy like me with priors? I hadn’t had a prayer. Ten years to give her the peace of mind that the asshole who had touched her was six feet under? Yeah, it was a trade I’d been willing to make. I’d made it then, and even knowing I’d get time, I’d do it again in a second.

I might be an asshole biker with a rap sheet, but there were some things that even I wouldn’t tolerate. Rape was one of them. Anyone harming a kid was another, and that dickweed had done both. As far as I was concerned, the world was a better place without him in it.

“What about her?” I asked.

She’d be twenty-three now. Probably had a steady job, a nice boyfriend. At least, I hoped that’s how her life had turned out. But the way Demon had said her name… had something happened to her while I was gone? Had some other asshole tried to hurt her, and I hadn’t been around to save her this time? My gut clenched just thinking anything bad had happened to her. She’d been such a sweetheart the few times I’d been around her, always a little on the quiet side.

“She’s here,” Demon said quietly.

My heart started pounding, and I flung open the truck door, then reached for my cut and shrugged it on. I slammed the door shut and stomped up the clubhouse steps before going inside. There were balloons and shit everywhere, and the roar of welcome as I stepped inside was near deafening. But as I scanned the crowd, it wasn’t my brothers I was taking in… No, I was looking for her. I didn’t know what she looked like anymore, only remembered her as a teenage girl. She’d been terrified the last time I’d seen her. I didn’t know why she was here, but I had to see her, to know that she was okay. I’d thought about her every fucking day that I was inside, hoping she’d been able to get past what happened to her, had gone on to live a good life. I’d thought about writing her once, just to check on her, but had decided it was best if I kept away. She didn’t need any reminders from me about what had happened to her.

My brothers hugged me, slapped me on the back, and slowly they all parted. At the back of the room stood a pixie of a woman, long blonde hair curling over her shoulders, and a body made for sinning. It was her eyes that nailed my feet to the floor. Blue. And achingly familiar. My gaze traced her features, trying to find the little girl I’d tried to save. I didn’t see even a hint of the terrified teen I’d carried out of that alley. Her features were delicate, much like the rest of her. She had curves in all the right places, and would likely be more than a handful for some men, but I’d be willing to bet she wouldn’t even reach my shoulder. Tiny. Almost like a little fairy. Slowly, Adalia walked toward me, her hips swaying with every step. Yeah, she’d grown up while I was gone, and I’d be willing to bet men fell to their knees to worship at her feet. She looked like one of those plus-sized models, but in a shorter package.

She didn’t even hesitate when she reached me, just put her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. My arms closed around her, pulling her curves against me, and I breathed in her honeysuckle scent. Closing my eyes, I just drank in the moment. She was here. She was safe. And she felt a little too damn good pressed against me. The way my jeans tightened made me want to put some distance between us. I tried like hell to keep the image of her as a thirteen-year-old girl in my mind, hoping my body would stop reacting to the woman she’d grown into, but no such luck. The breasts pressing against me were more than a handful and far too fucking tempting, as was the rest of her.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said, her voice soft and husky.

“It’s good to see you, pretty girl. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.”

“I tried to come see you a few times, but they always said you weren’t allowed visitors.”

I pulled away and smiled down at her. “I had a tendency to get into trouble inside. But now I’m glad you didn’t get any farther than the gates. Prison is no place for an angel like you.”

Her cheeks flushed and she smiled a little. “Welcome home, Badger.”

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Paige Warren

Award-winning author Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha males and the women who love them. There’s nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers, dog tags (especially if he’s ONLY wearing dog tags!), or bad boys covered in ink. When Paige isn’t creating romantic tales, she enjoys reading and watching movies – romances, of course. If you see her out in the wild, you’ll most likely find her at Starbucks, sipping a white mocha with a distant look in her eyes as she figures out the right wording for the next scene in her latest book.

Author Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / BookBub / Amazon Author Page

Harley Wylde

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Harley is the bestselling author of the Dixie Reapers MC series. You can find her at harleywylde.com!

 

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#NewRelease Innocent and Sweet by @MeganSlayer #newadult #contemporary @changelingpress

Innocent and Sweet by Megan Slayer

Roosters, Book 1

Changeling Press

Short Story

M/F, New Adult

SWEET

Anissa Dunn wants one man — Kameron. He’s got looks, brains and a boatload of attitude… and all that muscle. A girl can only take so much, and he’s her heart’s desire. She’s not afraid to give as good as she gets and she wants him to be her teacher in all things carnal.

There’s only one catch — he’s her bodyguard and the rules state she can’t date the staff.

But rules are meant to be broken…

 

BUY LINKS

Available from Changeling Press:  https://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2745

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DVM3N4Q/

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/b5rkBA

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2018 Megan Slayer

I will make him notice me. Anissa adjusted her dress. The cherry-red halter frock hung on her thin frame. So much for the correct fit. She sighed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t put on weight. She debated what to add to improve her figure. If she wore the leather jacket, she’d appear edgy. The clunky boots helped increase her height, so she was fine there. But her bust… drat. She peered down at her chest. A wave of nausea hit her as she thought about her dating past. Guys didn’t want to date a woman with a flat chest — or so they’d told her.

She spied the gel bra cups she’d bought during her last trip to the fabric store. If she had boobs, maybe the guy of her dreams would finally notice her. He had to.

Anissa stuffed the chilly padding beneath the cups of her dress. Her boobs looked huge. Instead of the burst of confidence she’d expected, she hated her reflection in the mirror. The additions didn’t fit her frame. But she had a date and no choice but to do her best to entice him. If fake boobs worked, then fine. She’d take her chances.

She donned the jacket, then grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

Kam stood in the foyer. He wore the same battered leather jacket, faded jeans and dark sunglasses as he always did. He touched his earpiece. “In position.”

Her heart fluttered. Kameron Stone personified sex in human form. Her nipples ached, and she pressed her knees together. She’d never been with a man and wanted Kam to be her first. If she had her way, he’d be her only.

Would he fuck her?

Better yet, would he love her the way she loved him?

“I have the package,” Kam said. “Preparing to leave.”

She frowned. The package. She didn’t have the honor of being referred to by her name. Gaining his attention wasn’t going to be easy. “I’m ready.”

Kam nodded. “This way, Ms. Dunn.”

“Anissa.” He’d used her last name. Dang it. She’d pleaded with him so many times to call her by her first name. Ms. Dunn was her mother. She was just Anissa.

“Ms. Dunn.” Kam escorted her to the front porch, then down the steps. He opened the passenger door of the limo. “After you.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t leave the house without her trusty bodyguard, Kam. She settled on the seat and folded her hands on her lap. Kam would do anything to protect her, and she trusted him, but she was twenty-one and her father needed to put some faith in her. He’d sheltered her from everything. She didn’t resent him for trying — when she turned twenty-five, she’d come into a hefty sum of cash via the trust her mother had left her, but still. She’d gone to an all-girls college, a private all-girls high school and never spent more than a few hours on her own. She crossed her legs, and her skirt rode high on her leg. Did Kam notice? Did he care?

She swept her gaze over him as he sat beside her. Strong and silent. He wore his clothes like a second skin, could eviscerate anyone who tried to get too close, but Kam said so little. Half the time she had no idea if he listened to her. Knowing him, he tuned her out.

“Kam?” She shifted in her seat to face him. Her skirt rode higher. He didn’t pay her any attention, which rankled her. “Kameron.”

“Ms. Dunn.” He seemed to stare straight ahead.

She whipped out her phone. She couldn’t go through with the date. Not now. She sent a text to the driver, requesting he stay in the driveway. She’d sent the itinerary to the security team but saw no point in leaving the house. Kam wasn’t paying attention to her — not in the way she wanted. He didn’t seem to care.

She sighed. According to the magazines she’d bought, her college roommate and the dirty movies she’d watched in the middle of the night, she had to be aggressive and demand what she wanted. Sure… she could be aggressive. She could demand his attention. But she wasn’t sure how.

Anissa switched seats to face Kam. The car rolled to a stop, most likely in front of the house. She parted her legs and leaned back. “Kam.”

If he looked at her, she couldn’t tell.

“Ms. Dunn?” Kam tensed, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Are you okay?”

Nope. He hadn’t noticed her lousy attempts to entice him.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. What a liar…”I’d like to talk to you.”

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. Find out more about Megan and Wendi at: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm Sign up for the newsletter here: http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj

Website, Blog, Fan Page, Amazon Author Page, Bookbub, Instagram, Goodreads, and Twitter

 

Spotlight: Waking the Lion by Lacee Hightower #sportsromance #romancebooks #eroticromance #newrelease @LaceeHightower @evernightpub

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Cold eyes…

Even colder heart…

There’s an instant quick blast of energy when we’re anywhere near. I feel him radiate through me like fire and ice.  He’s so far away, yet so damn close.

He’s the first man I can’t look away from. The only man I’ll take any way … on any terms.

Captain for the Dallas Blue Hawks, Rhett Gentry is unfriendly.  Hard.  Indifferent. Cold as a bitter wind in the Rocky Mountains.  He’s loved hard.  Given his everything.  Lesson learned … never risk another broken heart.

Days are all the same for Rhett.  Work … Promises… Obligations…

It is what it is.

Until it isn’t.

He keeps appearing out of nowhere. He knows I’m interested. I can’t hide the fact. Yet, a man like Rhett is used to women looking his way.  Used to turning a blind eye.

Until he doesn’t.

“I want your trust,” he demands, his stare heavy.

I laugh under my breath at the irony of that statement. Players … Users … They can’t be tamed for anything permanent.

Rhett Gentry is the kind of beauty that has women chasing the puck to be near him.  Giggling like teenagers for a simple smile or autograph.  Tall, dark and handsome, the famous hockey player is hiding a secret.  But I fall anyway.  Our chemistry is undeniable.  Unmistakable.  But as much as my heart longs for his, I fear his past may very well prevent our future.  My heart keeps telling me there’s only one true love in Rhett’s life.

And it isn’t me…

Excerpt:

Someone once said, “The tragedy of life is not death … but what we let die inside of us while we live.” Hardships sometimes leave us bitter. Change our perspective. Lead us into the dark. And swallow us.

Resembling more of a special ops soldier than a trained caregiver, when Rebecca Manning, RN, walks through the door showing no emotion, the moment leaves an ugly, begrudging taste in my mouth. Other than a quick agitating exhale through the nose that’s too large for her small rounded face, she’s silent, only checking vitals and hurriedly entering something into her tablet like she can’t get away quickly enough. Her silence doesn’t sit well with me, so I do what I’ve done each time she’s walked through the door the last four hours. With an exaggerated lift of my chest, I exhale with a long breath of fuck you and hiss, “It’s too motherfucking cold in here.”

She glares at me, holding her temperament in check. “I’ll adjust the air, Mr. Gentry,” she counters in a voice far from feminine.

Another wave of enraged spite sweeping through me, I lift my good arm, giving the silver rolling table an angry push. It ends against the wall with a wrath-intended bang, the dinner tray crashing onto the floor with unmistakable green Jell-O oozing from underneath an overturned small white bowl.

Tubes and monitors are everywhere you look in this horrific place. The smell of sickness and death fills the air. Robotic doctors and nurses going through the steps to mend broken people. Prolonging lives for another day, a few minutes longer. And all I can do is sit here helpless. Hopeless. Not a fucking thing I can do to change the situation.

I detest this place.

Hate this sick world we live in.

Self-reproach fists my gut, my mind drifting to only hours earlier. Driving toward downtown, the radio blaring Guns N’ Roses. Singing at the top of my lungs. Not a damn thing on my mind but the good. The evening ahead. Tomorrow. Next year.

Nothing else to do as I return to reality, I scan through channels of shit I don’t care to watch, freezing as I listen to my own name making the local news.

This can’t be happening.

Was it something I said?

Something I did?

My chest aches. Everything hurts. My shoulder… My gut… My legs… My dick…

Minutes seem like fucking years.

And this hell … is only the beginning.

 

About the Author:

Lacee Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as contemporary, sweet romance with a “twist.” Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of fashion and SHOES, and an enormous hopeless romantic.  Since she was old enough to know what the word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book after both her children were grown.  Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy peeking into another world.

 

Buy Links:

http://a.co/aqV80Sx

https://bit.ly/2l7G0MO

https://bit.ly/2JLvTrC

https://books2read.com/u/md0zew

Social Medial Links:

facebook.com/Lacee-Hightower-Author-495594097304430

twitter.com/LaceeHightower

Instagram – laceehightower8786

 

 

 

#CoverReveal – Ryker (Roosters series) by @HarleyW_Writer #eroticromance #pregnancyromance #bikerromance @changelingpress

I always get what I want, and for now, Laken is mine!

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Roosters is the new multi-author series with Changeling Press. My story, Ryker, can be read as a stand-alone. However, you’ll see familiar characters from the Dixie Reapers MC series, as well as some new people.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Ryker:

After 20 years in the military, I find myself doing my dad’s dirty work. But as the “prince” of the Hades Abyss MC, it’s expected of me. Doing a little recon in a small Alabama town should have been boring as shit, until the hot little minx I met at a bar turned my life upside down. Women always fall at my feet, but this one was different. If I’d known she was a virgin, I may have backed away, but now that I’ve had a taste I just want to keep coming back for more. Little did I realize that I’d just fucked the sister of a Dixie Reaper, and my life was about to become all kinds of complicated. I had to wonder…had she fucked me because she wanted me? Or was it all some kind of setup?

Laken:

My big brother Flicker is always ruining my fun, keeping the guys away from me, so when I finally get a chance for a hot guy to get rid of my V-card, I’m all for it. Ryker’s hot and has that alpha vibe, and the fact he’s ex-military just made me wetter. It never occurred to me that he was a biker, or that I might have just screwed up a big deal for the Dixie Reapers. It seems my sexy Ryker isn’t just some hot military guy. No, he’s the son of the President of the Hades Abyss MC. So I hide like big brother asks me to. Just one problem…Ryker doesn’t leave, and now I’m late. How am I supposed to tell Ryker that I’m carrying his child? When life fucks me over, it does it royally.

Ryker will release in July 2018!

Want to be notified when this story releases? You can either sign-up for the Jessica Coulter Smith/Harley Wylde newsletter or follow me on Amazon! Readers in the U.S. can also receive new release notifications by following me on BookBub!

 

Open Invitation — Roosters! #submissions #opensubmissions #eroticromance #contemporaryromance @changelingpress

Roosters_logo

 2748
Bastard’s New Baby (Roosters 3)
by Raisa Greywood
$3.99
Sale Price: $3.39 Coming Soon

Jackson needs a wife. Siobhan needs a husband. Perfect match – except they can’t stand one…

 2741
Ryker (Roosters 2)
by Jessica Coulter Smith and
Harley Wylde
$3.99
Sale Price: $3.39 Coming Soon

Was it all a setup? Or does Laken really want Ryker – even though he’s the son of a rival MC?

 2745
Innocent and Sweet (Roosters 1)
by Megan Slayer
$3.99
Sale Price: $3.39 Coming Soon

He’ll protect her body, but she’d rather give him her heart.

Authors: Does your contemporary hero have a bad attitude and a complete inability to follow the rules?

Pair him up with a kick ass heroine (Or hero – or two – or three — whatever) and bring him to Changeling!

Rules — there aren’t many!

1) No politics

1) Have fun!

Submissions guidelines:

15K to 30K novella

Contemporary Erotic Romance

Send us your completed manuscript along with a cover letter telling us why we should fall in love with your bad-ass hero. We’ll get back to you faster than a Gooney Bird… (Hmm, well, cargo planes weren’t all that fast, but hey, we’re reading as quick as we can.)

Full Submissions Guidelines available at https://www.changelingpress.com/submissions.php

Roosters: https://www.changelingpress.com/catalog.php?upt=book&ufilter=search&keywords=Roosters

Margaret Riley 
Publisher
ChangelingPress.com
Changelingpress.blogspot.com

Changelingpress.wordpress.com
facebook.com/pages/Changeling-Press-LLC/77772493971

Love Changes Everything by Peri Elizabeth Scott #Contemporary #RomanceBooks

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Simon has developed feelings for the girl who bedeviled him growing up, his best friend’s sister–not that Alys is a girl any longer. She’s a grown-up, beautiful, wonderful woman who makes him crazy. He obtains her brother’s permission to ask her out. And is rejected.

Alys is innocent and plans to stay that way until she meets a man who holds the same moral code, regardless of her lengthy crush on Simon. Privy to his escapades and conquests, her jealousy has turned to distaste and she sets herself on a different path. She wants a man who has refrained from meaningless affairs, who has waited for the special woman. And that’s not Simon!

Simon does the research but Google assures him he can’t become re-virginized and thus Alys is beyond his reach–until one day when he takes her, as a friend, for lunch in his beloved truck. That day, love changes everything.

 

Buy Links:

Kobo  /  Bookstrand  /  B&N Amazon

 

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Excerpt:

“Sorry.” Alys’s response was short but succinct.

Simon waited, but she wasn’t forthcoming with any excuses. “You’re … you’re saying no?”

A quick blink, a sweep of thick, dark lashes before those impossibly golden eyes widened. “I guess I should have said no. But I am sorry.”

It was insane, but he wanted to continue the conversation, even figuring he’d regret it. “Why are you sorry?”

A faint tinge of pink colored her cheekbones and a couple of little white teeth worried a corner of her full bottom lip. “I get asked out a lot. And I know it can’t be easy to get turned down.”

Her reply should have reeked of feminine arrogance, yet it didn’t. If anything, it was considered and thoughtful, and despite the twinge of her rejection, he found himself admiring her for it. But wasn’t that Alys? Kind. Caring.

A hint of surprise followed, confusing him. It didn’t make a lot of sense when he dwelled on it—rarely was he turned down and when it happened, it didn’t bother him. This was different, and a twofer. Huh.

Telling himself it didn’t matter did not stop him from pursuing it like a juvenile trout after a cleverly crafted, manmade fly. “Is there a reason you won’t go out with me?”

Another blink, accompanied by her tucking a strand of silky red-gold hair behind her ear betrayed what he thought was a bit of nervousness, and he thought to back down. Aside from his intense need to have her, Alys brought out some weird emotions in him, ones he might catalog as protectiveness—even possessiveness—and that wasn’t him. Better he let those sleeping dogs lie. He was crazy about her but clearly, the sentiment wasn’t returned.

“Never mind. Forget I asked.” Even to his ears he sounded peevish and decided to add petulant to his rapidly increasing scope of emotions. Time to get gone. He was back to fleeing from her.

She said, “I don’t date men who’ve … been around.

About the Author:  

Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada and pretends to work well with her husband in their seasonal business.

Writing for years, along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has published over 53 novels, including dark erotica and contemporary romance in a variety of genres, and reads most anything she can lay her hands on.

Author Site  / Facebook

 

 

 

 

 

Spotlight: To My Muse by Nicola M. Cameron #RomanticComedy #RomCom #RomanceBooks #ContemporaryRomance #NewRelease @YesItsNicolaC

Ever do something really, really dumb?

When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.

With the help of a strategic lie and a charismatic knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?

Excerpt available here.

  • Contemporary romance, romantic comedy, MF
  • Word Count: 67,000
  • Heat Level 2
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Excerpt

Giving Theresa a thumbs up, I closed the door and turned my attention to the hotel room. It had already been cleaned and the bed was neatly made. A suitcase sat on the valet stand next to the TV, and the dresser and desk held various pieces of paper, notes, and a couple of plastic shopping bags, all the usual stuff when you’re stuck in a hotel room for a couple of weeks.

Of course, the fangirl part of my brain was screeching like a gibbon at me that I was in Tom Morrison’s hotel room. He’d slept in that very bed last night. Sat at that desk to check his email and Facebook. Took a dump behind the closed door of what I assumed was the bathroom. The prosaic nature of that last bit helped me regain some self-control, and I tiptoed (why, I don’t know, I’m an idiot) over to the desk. There was what looked like a script for GearShifter on it, as well as a MacBook Pro, but no Feast of Lovers. Bad Tom, no leaving your expensive computer equipment out where people can steal it.

I wanted to leaf through the script so badly, but I ignored it and kept looking for Feast. Not on the desk top, not on the dresser, not on the TV. I was starting to worry that he’d taken it with him to the location when I noticed the suitcase. I truly, honestly hated the idea of going through his personal stuff, but he might have stuck it in there. I could just lift the lid, take a peek, maybe it was in plain sight—

I had the lid in hand when the bathroom door swung open and a tall, beautiful blonde in a towel strutted out. “I thought I heard you—” she purred, before she saw me. Both face and tone iced over. “Who the hell are you?”

I let out a noise that could have been used as a sound effect for a creaking vault door. The blonde stalked closer, looming over me. Up close, I could see some fine lines around her eyes, but she was still ridiculously gorgeous. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Oh. Oh, shit. My brain informed me that I was currently sharing a room with Claudine Ellery, the actress playing Tom’s antagonist/love interest on the show. What the hell was she doing in his bathroom? Were they dating in real life? Why was I asking stupid questions when I should be turning and running for my freaking life?

And then Fate decided that she needed an even bigger chuckle because the room door opened and Tom Morrison walked in. I caught a glimpse of an apologetic Theresa hovering in the hallway before she was eclipsed by Tom, who was staring at Claudine and me.

Oh, God. He was even better looking in person. Not all actors are, but Tom—he was edible. Curly black hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, and lips that I’d wanted to kiss since the first time I saw him on screen. With faded jeans that fit him perfectly, a dusty white button-down with rolled up sleeves, just the right amount of chest hair peeping out of his collar, and the cutest smudge of dust across one laser-sharp cheekbone, he was every one of my fantasies come to warm, tall life right in front of me.

And I had broken into his hotel room.

That was it. I was going to jail, assuming that the cops didn’t just see “brown person” and shoot me when they got here. At the very least I’d get fired from Golden State. Mom and Dad would disown me, Dada and Dadi would die of shame, and Derek would probably take out an ad in the LA Times saying that I was adopted. My only hope was that Theresa had gotten the hell out of here. There was no reason for both of us to go down for my stupidity—

“Lilian, darling, what are you doing here?”

My brain skidded to a halt. Words had come out of Tom Morrison’s mouth. Friendly words. While he was staring directly at me. Looking, if I may say so, as if he was talking to someone he knew. Which he didn’t, because I may not have remembered sending him my book but I would definitely remember meeting him.

“Um. Hi?” I waved weakly.

“I thought you decided not to come out this weekend.” He crossed to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders as he stared at Claudine. He squeezed my shoulder once, kind of hard, then did it again.

Even with my brain in fangirl vapor lock I can take a hint. I had no idea how he knew who I was, but he wanted me to play along. Plastering a grin on my face, I slipped my arm around his waist and squeezed back. His torso felt like warm rock, and he smelled so good.

“Well, I figured I needed a road trip,” I extemporized, giving him a bright smile. “And I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all, angel,” he purred. Up close, I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. It disappeared as he turned to Claudine. “Claud, why are you in my room wearing a towel?” he asked politely.

She planted hands on slim hips, cocking her head to the side. “Seriously? You have to ask why?”

“Yes, because if I remember correctly, I told you that I had no interest in going to bed with you. In fact, I’m quite sure I informed you of this on numerous occasions. And when I walk into my hotel room and see you wearing nothing but terrycloth while my girlfriend,” this time his squeeze was gentle, “is standing there looking gobsmacked, I have to wonder what the actual fuck you’re up to.”

My face went rigid as it tried to hold onto my smile. Girlfriend? Eeeeeeeee…


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About the Author

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in romance and sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to speculative romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).

 

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