Monday, June 30, 2014

Review by Kitty
Ellora's Cave Wicked Magic by Madeline Pryce

 Ms. Pryce you have done it again.... You are freaking awesome!!! You kow how to grab the rerader and leave us on the edge of our seat with every turn of our electric pages. You can't wait to see what is going to happen next. You can't help feel the passion along with the characters. #WANTINGMORE

Monday, June 23, 2014

We are so excited for this Promo Event for J.L Brooks' Falling Stars Volume #1.

Drugs, Sex, & EDM

It had all the makings of a perfect plot, and for bestselling author Lila Keaton-it was a hedonistic past she kept hidden far away. Many nights were spent crossing the velvet rope, dancing until dawn and bedding one of the worlds biggest DJ’s, Hunter Michaels AKA Arial Assault. 

When Lila’s agent uncovers her thrilling secret, it appears as if nothing is off limits when it comes to pitching the story, whether Lila wants to tell it or not. Despite knowing her reluctance is career suicide, she cannot bring herself to open her heart once more to the man who nearly destroyed it. 

Given the opportunity to escape her predicament, Hunter attempts to reconcile the pain he has caused, and rekindle the passion that was abandoned long ago. When a series of events causes history to repeat itself, Lila sets off unaccompanied through out the west to test her boundaries with the sensual and surreal, and ultimately come face to face with the only thing that can keep her from falling.

Add any of the four here

Add Review here if applicable


JL Brooks is a former columnist turned novelist. What started as a bet changed her entire 

course in life. With a passion for adventure, she believes everyone has a story to tell. 

Chances are she will try to convince you to tell yours. 


Distractions 2013

Rotten- 2013

Stories for Amanda-2013 (Contributor)

Pink Shades of Words-2014 (Contributor)

Twitter- @Authorjlbrooks

Saturday, June 21, 2014

***KINDLE COUNTDOWN SALE*** In anticipation of the release of book two in my Cowboy Way series on 7/21, the first book in the series, JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way), is on SALE for 96 hours starting now! TODAY, it's $2 off regular price at $2.99! It will gradually go up until it returns to regular price on the 25th. Please check it out here: Amazon US -

Amazon UK -

Cowboys are a different breed... They work hard, play hard and love harder. It's all about the ride, until the right woman makes them fall. JUST SHOOT ME (#1, Cowboy Way) HOT EXCERPTS (18+ Only):

Thursday, June 19, 2014

book cover_amie ebook revealTitle: La Cosa Nostra (This Thing of Ours)

Author: Amie Nichols

Release Date: July 11, 2014

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Design: Sara Eirew Photographer & Designer

Model: Sebastiano Tiralongo & Joanna Skrzypczak

amie_book cover full jacket


Harper Troy, like most students, was working her way through college barely making it by. She hears about an opening at a well known gentlemen’s club, The Guardian, ran by a very well known Chicago Family, the Tarseta’s. Even though the uniform is very revealing and the other waitresses are catty bitches, the money is worth it.

Until she meets the youngest Tarseta, Liam. He’s Chicago’s most eligible bachelor and drop dead gorgeous. She feels an instant attraction. Being a known playboy, Harper fights the attraction and his advances.

Liam has his eyes on Harper the moment he sees her. Being different and not falling for his charms, he is determined to break her down. But Harper refuses to be another notch on his bed post.

Just when Liam is breaking down Harper’s barriers, he learns some shocking news that changes everything. Can he make her see they are meant to be together, or will he lose her forever?


this thing of ours2lcn 56lcn teaser 25

About Amie Nichols


I live in Iowa with my amazing, supportive husband. He is my rock and my king, and treats me like all women should be treated (like a spoiled Queen). I have two miniature dachshund's that are my babies, and they love to keep me company when I am writing away on my next WIP. I'm about to publish my 6th book, and can hardly believe how my life has changed. I'm called an author, and still can't believe it. I've have met some amazing woman in my journey so far, and have learned so much (sometimes the hard way). I've been like a sponge soaking up all the information I can on how the publishing world works. It's been a rollercoaster ride so far with its ups and its downs. No matter what, I will never regret anything I've done. You can't succeed if you don't try, and if you don't try you won't succeed. One of my favorite quotes, "If the dream is big enough the facts don't matter". Some other info about me: I love my family, friends, wine, and anything caffeinated. I also love writing HEA. For the same reason I won't watch a movie that I know will make me cry (with the exception of Steel Magnolias), I will never write a book without an HEA. There might be a few twists and turns, a cliffhanger or two, but ultimately my stories will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy inside. For me, reading is entertainment, a way to escape this crazy insane world. If a book leaves me feeling sad, mad, or gut-wrenched, it is not for me. There is enough gut-wrenching sadness in this world, I don't need to read about it too. I started writing 3 years ago, and have no plans on stopping. So keep your eye on me, because with the help of some amazing people and my wonderful fans, this girl is going to be on the New York Times Best Seller's list someday.

Connect with Amie

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads


Tuesday, June 17, 2014


World renowned DJ Tane Miller returns to his hometown after leaving when he was eighteen and never looking back. When he runs into his beloved childhood friend Giselle, his life takes a turn he could never have anticipated. 

Giselle Reece has been in love with Tane ever since she can remember. After learning her lesson the hard way, she realizes that Tane isn’t the man she once thought he was. When he re-enters her life, desperate to make amends, Giselle needs to decide whether she can let down her guard and forgive the man she once adored, or is it time to finally let go?

Tane must now fight for what he wants, even though he isn’t sure he deserves it. The only question is, will it be enough? Or is it too late for him to redeem himself?


Chantal Fernando is 26, a mother of three beautiful little boys and lives in Western Australia. Chase is her debut novel, followed by Kade, Ryder, James and Maybe This Time. She is currently working on a few other projects.

Facebook | Goodreads





Sunday, June 15, 2014

Target This Lily White

CoverOnly.TargetThis   Synopsis: I’m not sure what I was thinking that day. It was a normal Thursday, nothing new or exciting had occurred in the morning. I’d risen from bed, taken a shower and brushed my teeth. I’d then jumped on the 8:05 bus that ran a short distance between my house and the county library where I worked. The ride took its usual 15 minutes before it left me standing fresh faced in front of a building of gothic construction that was my favorite place in the world. After straightening my knee length skirt, I pushed open the door that led into the interior of the library. It was at that moment that my world would change – impossibly and forever. It was a fateful movement of wood that collided with the shoulder of a man that would alter my very existence. It wasn’t fear that I felt at that moment – more like the feeling of being watched. It was the feeling of knowing that danger lurks - the sensation of the hair standing on end at the back of your neck. Looking back on a moment that happened so many months ago, I now realize that I should have listened to that feeling. As I would later find out, the man standing in front of me referred to himself as Master Lucas… …and I was his next target. GoodReads: About the Author: Lily White is a dark writer who likes to dabble on the taboo side of eroticism.  Most of the time she can be found wandering around aimlessly while her mind is stuck in some twisted power play between two characters in her head. You may recognize her in public by the confused expression, random mumbling, and occasional giggle while thinking up a scene. Lily’s favorite things in life are reading, thinking about reading, buying books for reading….and writing. Her other secret pleasure is meeting with her plot editor in public to discuss her books and watching the shocked expressions of the people around her that don’t realize she’s talking about a book.  When Lily is not reading, writing, wandering or freaking out innocent bystanders, she’s sleeping. Contact Lily White: Facebook: Twitter: @eroticlilywhite


Friday, June 13, 2014

Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) **NEW RELEASE**

Carrie Collins has been trying to hold it together for three years, since her husband Sean was killed in the line of duty during an undercover drug operation gone bad. If that and the mountain of bills she was left with weren’t bad enough, her son becomes mixed up with the wrong crowd at school. Carrie feels like a failure as a mother, and does the only thing she can think of to fix things, she goes back to her parent’s ranch.

Her dead husband’s best friend, the man accused, but later exonerated of, Sean’s murder shows up at the ranch with his new wife and offers her a break from the kids and the craziness of her life. Carrie is reluctant to accept, but he won’t take no for an answer. She goes to the R & R Ranch, but doesn’t find relaxation there. What she finds is a tall, charismatic ex-rodeo cowboy who not only ties her emotions in more knots than his lasso, he wakes up her dormant libido.

Carrie fights the attraction, because the last thing she needs is a man like Dylan Thomas in her life, a tumbleweed kind of guy who tells her in no uncertain terms he isn’t looking for a relationship. She knows her kids deserve better and so does she. Her kids aren’t there though, and the temporary fantasy he represents becomes too much to resist.

Dylan Thomas wants nothing more than to return to competitive bull riding after an almost career-ending injury landed him at the R & R Ranch teaching rich greenhorns to ride bulls. A year and a half of catering to those wealthy snobs has him bored and restless, until a curvy brunette convinces him it might not be so bad to hang around for a little while longer.

Carrie Collins takes hard to get to an olympic-class level though, and it takes everything in Dylan’s bag of tricks to get close to her. When things finally heat up between them, he finds out there are a couple of things she hasn’t told him about. Like the two kids she has who show up at the ranch, and the job she has accepted there.

His temporary fling with the cute ranch guest suddenly gets a lot more complicated and permanent. Especially when former associates of her son turn up at the ranch demanding money she doesn’t have. Dylan knows then he’s borrowed a helluva lot of trouble he didn’t need in his life by getting involved with her, but when the opportunity to leave presents itself, how can he leave her in danger?

Clean Excerpt

The loud, throaty rumble of an engine reached Carrie Collins inside the barn and her eyebrows knotted. She laid the saddle blanket back on the shelf, and dusted her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door. Shielding her eyes, she looked at the road to see who was paying them a visit. Maybe it was one of her mother’s friends from church, she thought, but then a slick, black motorcycle emerged from the trees onto the gravel drive leading up to the house and she realized she was very wrong. Neither rider wore a helmet, both wore bandanas instead. One rider was in black leather and the other in white. Concern shot through her, and Carrie considered going back inside to get the shotgun her daddy kept in the office, just in case, but the kids and her daddy were in the house. He could see her from there and she knew he must hear the loud engine too. She walked out of the barn to stand under the tree and wait for them to make it to the barn.

The bike stopped, and the driver put down the kick stand. He leaned down to fiddle with something at the side of the bike and she noticed the pattern on his bandana said Groom of Doom interspersed with hearts over crossed bones. Cute, but definitely not bad ass, she thought, feeling a little better about her mysterious visitors. A man wouldn’t wear a bandana like that if he was a bad guy, would he?

From the curves the white leather suit hugged, it was obvious his passenger was a woman. She swung her long leg over the back of the bike and stood. Carrie squinted and made out that the wording on her white bandana that said Bitchin’ Bride. The man on the front of the bike looked back up, and his sunglasses were gone. Recognition hit her between the eyes and Carrie gasped. “Trace…”

His jaw tightened, accentuating the scar on his left cheek, which he had to have gotten in prison. Trace Rooks was still handsome as sin, but he looked rougher, tougher and much harder than he had when she saw him last in court. When they convicted him of killing her husband, Sean. Heat shot up her throat and gathered as pressure behind her eyes. Trace hadn’t killed Sean, she reminded herself, shoving the old bitterness she’d lived with for three years away. Sean’s other best friend, Seth Copeland, had not only killed Sean, he had set Trace up for the crime.

Seth was in jail now, and Trace was free. But it was obvious from the look in his haunted eyes that Trace wasn’t free at all. Not any freer than she was.

The woman with him glanced at Trace, before quickly walking over to Carrie to extend her hand. “I’m Ronnie Win—“ she started, then a fleeting smile curved her red lips. She glanced back at Trace again, then corrected, “Ronnie Rooks.”

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Trace said with a laugh as he got off the bike and walked over to drape an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders. “Ronnie and I got married in Vegas.”

Married? Trace Rooks? The man her husband said was a world-class player who would probably never get married was married to none other than the Shark Lady. The woman who had represented him during his trial, and recommended a plea deal that sent him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. At the time, Carrie thought the slick attorney was brilliant, that she would get him off scot free. To Carrie, even the three year sentence the judge handed down was pretty damned close to getting him off scot free. But Trace evidently thought otherwise, because on his way out of the courtroom he had threatened to strangle this woman. And now they were married. Unbelievable.

Her eyes locked with the woman beside Trace and Ronnie Rooks full red lips curved to spotlight her perfect white teeth. Carrie ran her hand over her own hair, which she’d done nothing to except pull back in a haphazard ponytail that morning. She hadn’t worn makeup since Sean died three years ago, so she knew she must look a mess in comparison to the striking woman. “Wow,” was all Carrie could push past her frozen vocal chords.

Trace hugged Ronnie to his side. “The honeymoon is over and Ronnie has an election to win,” Trace informed with a surprising smile for the beautiful redhead. “But I wanted to stop by to check on you and the kids. I’ve uh, been meaning to do that for a while.”

What Carrie wanted was to get Trace out of there. His stopping by, or worrying about her at all was astonishing to her. She was embarrassed at the nasty things she’d said to him at the courthouse as they led him off to jail. Those words should have assured she would never see him again. But here he was. Typical Trace. He never knew when to leave well enough alone. Even though he’d been a player, he was a good man. It was the reason he had been Sean’s best friend. When someone needed help, Trace was always there. He was the one who should be wearing the white leather suit.

Well, Carrie didn’t want his chivalry or his concern. She’d been doing just fine on her own for three years now. Seeing him just reminded her of Sean, dredged up old memories she had been trying to bury since her husband died. The kids would feel the same. Chris and Izzy had enough problems right now, and so did she.

Carrie sucked in a breath and forced a smile. “Oh, that’s sweet, Trace, but I’m fine—”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s obvious that you’re not fine, Carrie,” he grated. “Seth might be an asshole, but he didn’t lie about what was going on with you. You moved out here because the kids were out of control, and you lost your house. I want to help you, if you’ll let me.” Trace’s eyes fell to her left hand, and Carrie hid it behind her back. “It’s been three years since Sean died, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring?” he asked incredulously.

Because in her mind she was still married to him. The man she had dated in high school then married when she was eighteen had been the love of her life. Yeah, they’d had their problems, but Carrie knew Sean would always be there for her. Unless he was working, which he did most of their married life. Or he did something stupid. Like get himself killed.

Anger and grief warred inside of her and Carrie spun the ring around her finger with her thumb. Trace Rooks of all people knew how much she loved Sean, how much he had meant to her. He had been Sean’s best friend and the best man at their wedding. Him questioning her about still wearing her ring, like she didn’t have a right to do that, pissed her off. She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanations about how she handled her grief. “I don’t want any help,” Carrie said firmly.

His arm fell from around Ronnie’s shoulder, and his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Well that’s too damned bad, you’re getting it,” he said taking a step toward her. It’s the summer, so the kids are out of school right?”

Carrie’s neck rocked back on her shoulders to meet his eyes. What the hell did that matter? “Yeah, they’re out of school. Why?”

“You ever hear of the R & R Ranch?” Trace asked.

Ranch? That place was a spa for rich people who were looking for adventure. Not somewhere she would ever visit in this lifetime. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“The owner is a friend of Ronnie’s and we’ve made arrangements for you to go there for a week. You need a damned break. Ronnie and I will keep Chris and Izzy for the week,” he said. The woman beside him gasped, and Trace glared down at her, before looking back at Carrie. “I want to see them anyway.”

Before Sean’s death, Trace had been a fixture in her kid’s life. She had tried to shield them from the ugliness of the murder trial, because they considered him an uncle, but Chris knew. She couldn’t keep him away from the television when the trial was going on. The more he watched behind her back, the angrier and more withdrawn he became. Carrie hadn’t had a chance to talk to her son since Trace had been cleared. “Um, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why the hell not? I want to talk to him.”

Carrie didn’t miss the hurt in Trace’s tone. He loved her kids as much as Sean had, but they didn’t feel the same now. Because Carrie hadn’t had time to talk to them. “Chris doesn’t know you’ve been cleared,” she admitted looking away.

“Why haven’t you told him?” he demanded.

Carrie heard the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun being racked and spun toward the barn door. Her tall, lanky thirteen-year-old son stood there with her father’s shotgun to his shoulder, eyeing down the sight at Trace.

“Get out of here murderer,” he growled trying to sound fierce, but his voice trembled.

Fear shot to her throat. Carrie swallowed it down and tried to force calm into her tone, “Chris, put the shotgun down.”

It was true. Chris was out of control, but she had no idea how to help him. Counselors hadn’t worked, suspension from school for smoking pot hadn’t worked, grounding for the summer hadn’t worked. Moving away from the nasty group of friends he’d been hanging out with at the old house hadn’t worked. Carrie was afraid he was going to end up dead or in jail if she didn’t do something. She just didn’t know what to do. He needed a man in his life, a good man other than her father who was just too old to deal with teenagers any more.

Trace stepped forward and spread his arms. “Shoot me,” he invited and Ronnie and Carrie gasped at the same time. “If it will make you feel better and you think it will bring your daddy back, just do it, kid. I loved him too, and I love you.”

Carrie thought Trace must’ve lost his mind. The gun shook in Chris’s hand, and she thought he might do accidentally shoot him. Trace was even bolder though, he showed no fear as he took a step around her, then another toward Chris. Carrie saw Chris’s eyes fill, but his grip on the gun got tighter. His finger moved into the well of the trigger.

“I love you, Chris. I want to help you,” Trace said taking another step toward him. “I didn’t kill your daddy.”

“They sent you to jail. You killed him!” Chris said in a higher voice.

“Seth Copeland killed him,” Trace countered taking another step toward him. “Ask your mother,” he said gruffly shooting a glare over his shoulder at Carrie.

“It’s true, honey,” Carrie said with a waver in her voice. “He’s in jail, and Uncle Trace has been cleared. It was all a mistake.”

Chris swung his eyes toward her, then back to Trace. The barrel of the gun lowered a few inches, and his shoulders relaxed a little. Carrie’s did too, but Izzy picked that moment to run around the side of the barn yelling her brother’s name. Chris tensed again and swung the gun in Izzy’s direction. Carrie screamed, Ronnie gasped, and as if in slow motion Trace shot forward to tackle him around the waist.

The gun exploded and Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, because she just couldn’t look. Her ears rang as the sound reverberated through the trees, and she prayed that she hadn’t just lost her daughter too.

Dirty Excerpt 18+

Ready or not, Dylan didn’t leave or back off. His heat surrounded her, as his body crowded her from behind. His fingers brushed her skin as he pushed her hair aside to lean over her shoulder. He stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, then hovered here a moment with his hot breath tickling the shell of her ear. The richer, deeper timber of his voice vibrated through her, as he finally asked, “You like to bake. Is that why you smell like sugar cookies?” Electricity zipped down her spine when his lips touched down briefly on a spot right behind her ear. Carrie shivered and he laughed.

“Or do you just wear the dough behind your ear to tease me, because you know I have a weakness for sugar cookies?” After a final flick of his hot, wet tongue, he moved away. Cool air hit the wet imprint left by his mouth, and Carrie shivered. Her nails curled into her palms, and she sucked in a breath when they scraped her burn. The spatula clattered to the stove, and she sucked the fleshy pad at the side of her palm into her mouth.

Dylan grabbed her hand to inspect it. “Did you burn yourself?” he asked with concern. “We need to take you to the med shack and get Terri to bandage it. I was headed out there when I heard the smoke alarm, but I didn’t see her out there.”

“It’s fine,” Carrie said tugging her hand away. He didn’t let it go. Instead, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it slowly as he held her gaze. Carrie licked her lips, tasting the sugar cookies she had to taste test before she put them in the oven. “Um, I, ah…” she stammered, at a loss for words as she stared at the blatant desire in his eyes.

“Do you ride?” he asked suddenly.

Her dazed mind spun trying to process the words. “Since I could walk,” Carrie replied once she wrapped her mind around what he’d asked.

“I have a few days off for my arm to heal. Will you go riding with me this afternoon?

You need to relax a little,” he said with a little smile.

Carrie didn’t know how spending time with this cowboy would lend itself to relaxation. Every time she got within three feet of him, she was wound tighter than she had been in years. Being alone with him, wouldn’t help her put distance between them. But her mouth opened, and “Yes,” fell out, before she could stop it.

She only had two days left here, and she couldn’t resist the opportunity to feel like a desirable woman once more. That’s how he made her feel. Something she hadn’t felt in three years, and wasn’t likely to feel again for a long time after she left this ranch. Dylan made her forget her grief, forget her problems. Carrie knew agreeing to spend time with him was just avoidance. Her problems would still be there when she went back to her parents’ ranch. Right now though, he would help her forget for an afternoon.

“Come out to the barn around two, and I’ll have the horses saddled.”

“I can help,” she offered, and her gaze fell to his shoulder. “You’re hurt. You shouldn’t be saddling anything. Are you sure you’re okay to ride?”

He laughed and his smile broadened. “I could ride with one arm tied behind my back.”

“I’ll ride with you, if you let me saddle the horses then,” she propositioned.

“Deal,” he replied and his deep voice vibrated along her nerve endings. When he leaned toward her, Carrie held her breath. His lips touched hers, lingered for a second, then with a playful little nip to her lower lip, he stood back up and smiled. “You taste like sugar cookies.”

“That’s what the lumps of coal in the trash were,” she replied with an embarrassed laugh. “Give me some of those beautiful biscuits, and a few of those cupcakes to take back to the bunkhouse with me.” Dylan eyed them over her shoulder. “I’ll make some gravy to go with the biscuits for breakfast.” His tongue made a circuit around his lips, and her eyes were dragged around with it. Heat settled between her legs, and her lips sizzled.

She would give him the whole damned pan if he kissed her again. But he didn’t. He just stood there staring. Waiting. For her to do something. Oh, yeah, ice the cupcakes and wrap up biscuits for him. Heat shot up to her cheeks, and Carrie walked to the refrigerator to get the bowl of icing. She iced the cupcakes, while he leaned against the counter watching her. Moving around him, she brought the bowl to the sink, then opened the cabinet beside it to look for a container. The one she wanted was on the upper shelf, and she couldn’t reach it even on her tip toes. Huffing a frustrated breath, she balanced on her arms, then climbed up on the counter. Sometimes it sucked being short, she thought, as she stood to drag it down from the top shelf. When she turned around to get down Dylan was right there behind her.

He smiled up at her and put his hand at her knee. “I couldn’t help you get it down, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall,” he informed with a shrug.

Carrie eased down to sit on the counter, and he grabbed the container from her to sit it on the counter, before he nudged her knees apart to make a space for his hips. He slid his hands up her thighs to grip her hips, and Carrie’s heart did a leap in her chest. “And I wanted a real kiss. You’re at the perfect height now for that to happen.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and he licked his lips again. “Kiss me, Carrie,” he invited, not making a move to kiss her. He just waited, while staring at her mouth, which felt like it was on fire. Carrie licked her own lips, then hesitantly leaned toward him, stopping when her mouth was within millimeters of his to catch her breath, to get her out of control heart to slow down.

“Kiss me, Carrie,” he whispered again.

She put her palms on his bare chest and his heated skin felt like smooth silk under her touch. His warm, musky morning scent enflamed her senses, as she closed the space between them to take a tentative pass over his mouth with hers, then another. That evidently wasn’t enough for him, because his left hand moved up from her hip. He shoved his hand into her hair, cradling her skull to pull her closer, as his mouth devoured hers. He feasted on her lips like they were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

His were the best she had tasted in a helluva long time, that was for sure. Minty toothpaste, and the sweetness of the man kissing her flooded her senses. Carrie couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands moved to circle his neck and pull him closer still. He was right, this counter was at the perfect height for kissing and so much more.

The inside of her knee brushed the warm skin at his hip, where his pajama pants rode low. Fire shot up the inside of her thigh to her center and she throbbed there in time with her heart. Without conscious thought, Carrie wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer to where she needed him. Dylan moaned into her mouth, and his tongue courted hers in time with his hips, as he ground himself into her.

His erection hit her in just the perfect spot, and her breath came in short pants as her pleasure inched up with each stroke. When she couldn’t breathe, she dragged her mouth from his and threw her head back. His lips latched onto the side of her neck and he sucked her there. Carrie moaned loudly, thrusting her hips against him, reaching for the release that was just out of her reach. “Oh, God, Dylan…yes, make me come,” she whispered hotly.

His fingers dug into her right hip, as he continued to suck her neck. “Lord, woman…I want to fuck you right here on Penny’s counter,” he growled into her ear, increasing the pace of his thrusts.

That was the hottest damned thing Carrie had ever heard. The only place she’d ever made love was in the bedroom. Behind closed doors. Most of the time with the kids rattling the doorknob, or yelling for her. Just the naughty image of doing it right here that flickered through her mind, sent her tumbling over the edge.

About Becky McGraw:

Becky McGraw is a married mother of three adult children, and a Southern girl by birth and the grace of God, ya'll. She resides in South Texas with her husband and dog Abby.

A jack of many trades in her life, Becky has been an optician, a beautician, a legal secretary, a senior project manager for an aviation management consulting firm, which took her all over the United States, a real estate broker, and now a graphic artist, web designer and writer. She knows just enough about a variety of topics to make her dangerous, and her romance novels interesting and varied. Being a graphic artist is a good thing for her too, because she creates her own cover art, along with writing the novels.

Becky has been an avid reader of romance novels since she was a teenager, and has been known to read up to four novels of that genre a week, much to the dismay of her husband, and the delight of e-book sellers.

She has been writing fictional short stories and novels for fun, as well as technical copy for her jobs for many years. She was a member of the Writer's Guild on AOL, as well as a founding member and treasurer of the first online chapter of the Romance Writers of America, From the Heart Romance Writers. Currently, she is a PAN member of RWA and a general member of FTHRW.

You can find Amazon Bestselling Author Becky McGraw at:

Texas Trouble Series by Becky McGraw: Book #1 - My Kind of Trouble (Cassie & Luke) Book #2 - The Trouble With Love (Sabrina & Cole) Book #3 - Double the Trouble (Karlie & Gabe) Book #4 - Looking for Trouble (Jess & Wade) Book #5 - Trouble in Dixie (Katie & Tommy) Book #6 - Asking for Trouble (Jazzie & Beau) Book #7 - Chasing Trouble (Jenny & Chase) Book #8 - Here Comes Trouble (Terri & Joel) Book #9 - Worth the Trouble (Ethan & Roxanne) Book #10 - Royal Trouble (Wes & Leigh Ann) Book #11 - Trouble With The Law (Trace & Veronica

Borrowing Trouble (#12, Texas Trouble) is now available in the@Amazon Prime Lending Library!

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Thursday, June 12, 2014


Event Organized by ❤MaE Book Tours & Promo Stars Services


  Synopsis The day Maya Owens walked into his tattoo shop, everything Talan knew changed. After officially starting a relationship, he is now having trouble managing Maya—a woman who consumes every part of his being and owns his heart. His need to control her and everything around her drives Maya insane, but he has good reason. After all, Janice is still lurking around and she has a vendetta against his Bitty. In no time Talan wants more, and it’s faster than Maya can handle; things begin to get complicated. Months of frustration and want take them for a ride neither wanted, but now yearn for. Will they make it through the turbulence? And if so, at what cost?

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica

Expected Publication Date: May 27, 2014





Excerpt #1

“What are we doing here?” Maya asked when we pulled up to my shop. This date was about remembering our first meeting, for her to see how I truly felt. Taking her face in my hands, I caressed her cheek with the tip of my fingers and leaned forward to ghost my lips over hers. “Where did we meet, Maya?” I asked, then waited for her reaction. She didn’t disappoint. A small smile overtook her face. “Here.” “So where else would I want our first date to be?” Maya giggled, confusing me. “This isn’t our first date, Talan.” “No? Are you sure?” She nodded, still laughing at my confused state. “I don’t remember taking you—” “Shush,” Maya placed her finger over my lips, “our first date happened right here a few months back. The same night we discussed your tattoos.” “But you said . . .” I trailed off; this having a woman shit was confusing. “I know what I said, Talan.” She sounded exasperated and all traces of humor left her features. “I asked to date, to make us official.” “Why didn’t you just say so?” I grumbled while rubbing my temples. “I did; you just heard what you wanted.” Bitty raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, feed me.” “You drive me insane.” If I didn’t care for this woman, I would strangle her. My words were met with another raised brow and a saucy smirk. “Then I’m doing something right.” I laughed at her reply. What could I say to argue that logic? She had every right to act cocky at the moment. Bitty had me by the balls and knew it. “Stay.” Turning off the engine of my truck, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. Maya stayed inside, waiting on me. “Ready?” She nodded. I unbuckled her seatbelt, grabbed her by the waist, and helped her down. Her small frame slithered down my body, rubbing against my hardened cock. “For you? Since we met.” “Behave.” My warning was met with defiance. Maya’s hands grabbed onto the front of my pants. She pulled me forward; my erect shaft nestled between our bodies, pushing against her stomach. “Feed me.” “Hungry?” I grunted when her right hand dipped inside my waistband. “Commando?” She moaned, ignoring my question. Maya ran the tip of her fingers around the slit, rubbing the liquid there over my swollen head. I shivered while watching, mesmerized, as she brought the glistening digits toward her lips and sucked. “Maya, please. Let’s go eat. You have to be starving.” “I am,” she whimpered, as my flavor danced over her tongue. Maya winked at me then shimmied once more against me. The head of my cock—now purple and swollen—peeked out from the waistband, searching for her touch. “Quit fucking around, Bitty.” Growling under my breath, I tucked my dick back into my pants, much to her disappointment. It’d been torture not taking her, but it was getting worse than before. We were both so close to that moment and we knew it. “I ordered in.” “Warned you; I’m hungry.” She ignored my statement and instead pulled me down to her level. Her eyes shone with emotion, deep and as pure as she was. “Don’t care about food.” Maya bit my lip, hard. “Feed me.” “Fuck.” She killed my will, my need to show her I wanted more from her than just the sweet pussy between her thighs. “First, food, and then for dessert, I’ll give you my cock,” I whispered—more a plea than a bargain—against her lips. She bit down once more and backed away, leaving my lip bruised and tingling. “Tempting.” Bitty stepped back. “Convince me.” “Okay.” I took a step forward and backed her into my truck, my fingers tangling in her hair. She opened her mouth to speak, but my finger over those succulent lips silenced her. “Quiet.” Maya whined against my hold. My hips kept her in place, taunting her, I ground my hardened length against her. “We’re going to enter my shop and enjoy all the hard work I’ve put into this date. Nod if you understand.” She did. “I want to enjoy you.” Bitty moaned at this, and swiveled her hips into me. “Feed you. Don’t take that away from me.” At those last words, a soft expression overtook her face and she stilled in my arms. She sighed. “You win.” “What was that?” I asked needing to hear her say it again. “You win.” Maya smiled and pushed me back with a gentle shove. “I want it all. You, me, and this date . . . the small talk and flirting. Maybe even another orgasm at the end of the night?” She was too cute when showing her neediness. “No more harassing me?” I gave her a playful smile. “For now.” She winked then pushed me toward the front doors of my shop. “Stop.” I turned to face her. Maya’s look was confused, but her confusion turned into that burning need I loved when she realized what I’d pulled from my pockets. “Turn around,” I demanded and she complied. She did. No questions, just obedience. I could get used to that. “I’m going to cover your eyes.” My words were met with a needy whimper. Maya pressed her body closer to mine. The heat coming off her skin seared me. “How do you expect me to behave if—” “Quiet. Not a word,” I whispered into her ear and laid a small kiss on her neck. “Just enjoy.” The small blindfold I’d pulled from my pocket dangled from my finger. Her eyes followed its movement. I wanted her to see the words etched onto the silk fabric, the ones I’d chosen just for her: Marked. It said everything I felt. Every one of my pores, every cell in my body wore her stamp—her mark. Now, she would wear mine.


Excerpt #2

I sat in that empty lot for five minutes before there was a tap at my window. It was Simon. Why the fuck was he here? Rolling down the window, I gave him my best bitch brow. “What’re you doing here?” “Save it, small fry.” He laughed and opened my door. “Boss man just left, and my boss demanded I retrieve you. It’s a preventive decoy.” My expression must’ve matched my thoughts: I’m not following. “If Talan sees you and Esther walking toward the shop, he’ll know something’s up,” Simon explained while shoving a bag at me. I looked inside the bag and arched the brow at him again. “What’s up with the wig?” “Simple. You and Esther have a very distinct hair color and that solves one problem. If we happen to see him, I’ll pull you in closer and he’ll think its Esther getting her fix.” I smiled: Now this made sense. “Good job, young grasshopper. I’m impressed.” Simon flipped me off with an amused grin on his face. “You’re perfect for him, you know?” “He’s perfect for me,” I amended and grabbed his offered hand. The long coat I was wearing prevented him from seeing anything. Fucker still waggled his brow the moment my high-heeled shoes came into view, though. “Talan’s in for one hell of a night.” Simon bit his lip. “I’m happy for him, but dammit, I wish you girls would’ve let us in on this. ‘Moody fucker’ is the nicest way to describe what he’s been like since he found out he was booked tonight.” “I know.” Simon mock-glared at my giggle. “I’m sorry, but all this was necessary. He’s going to—pardon my crudeness—blow his load the moment he realizes what’s about to happen.” “That he is.” He laughed and walked me back toward the parlor. We made it there without incident. Simon stopped in front of the back door, “This is where I leave you, ma’am. Esther has everything else set up. It’ll be you and him once you walk through that door.” “Thanks, Simon.” I pulled him in for a tight hug then watched him stroll off. The nerves were starting to take a hold of me again. Would Talan like this? Who was I kidding? Of course he would. That man has wanted nothing more than to lay his stamp, his creation, on my skin for months. Opening the door, I heard soft music playing in the distance. It made me smile. Our playlist, the one I’d created for just this purpose, played through the store’s speakers. My feet carried me forward. His office door was closed, all the lights off except for his private room—it was lit. Candles and low-lighting illuminated every inch of space. Perfect. Talan’s station was set up: only black ink on his table, gun, needles, cups, cleaning solution and towels … Lying in his chair was my folder, open with the stencil of his design atop the rest. It was a reminder of how he saw me. His equal. His other half. With shaking fingers, I opened my coat and let it fall to the floor. Beneath the fabric I had worn nothing. This was my gift to him. The flesh he admired and made come alive with just the tone of his voice. Bending at the waist, I picked up my coat and carried it to just outside of his door—and dropped it there. Let him find it. Find me.


dream cast





About the Author

1503539_601803483236538_370633924_nElena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would. As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.

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Author: Crystal Groszek
Published: May 12, 2014
Genre: Paranormal Romance



When Evan O’Fion wakes up in a hotel room after being kidnapped by the cocky and mysterious Ezra Volkov, her first impulse is to flee. But Ezra surprises her by giving her a choice: run away and live in darkness or go with him and discover the truth of who she really is.
Does this beautiful, dangerous man have the answers to her questions? And will the truth be worth the heartache it will cause her?
Evan isn’t sure who to trust, but she’s desperate for answers. Armed with her growing Elemental abilities and a fearlessness that borders on reckless, Evan begins a journey into her past and inadvertently unleashes the ghosts that those around her have tried to keep hidden, leading to the most shocking revelation yet.

Excerpt #1:
I sit up, gasping. The last remnants of the dream fade as my eyes adjust to the flood of sunlight. A dream, that’s all it was. Only, it felt so real I’m having a hard time separating myself from the role my mind had me playing.
I inhale deeply and am surprised by the salty tang of ocean air. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and slowly lower my feet to the floor, waiting for my body to rebel. I expect to feel sore and cramped, but I feel completely refreshed. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I know that it’s been at least a couple of days since Ezra knocked me out and took me from Price; I can feel the passage of time in my bones.
My eyes adjust to the light and I’m able to take in more of my surroundings. The room I’m in is simple: white walls, sheer white curtains, even a white bedspread. It’s all very airy and light and I would normally appreciate the elegant simplicity, but right now not so much. No, right now I’m pissed as hell.
Tentatively, I push myself up off the bed. Even though I feel refreshed, I falter when I try to stand. Just when I’m about to hit the floor, hard, a burst of wind rushes by my face and I’m suddenly being supported.
“Morning, Sunshine,” Ezra says softly, looking down at me with a smug grin.
I try to push him away, but he tightens his grip. “Let go of me,” I spit through clenched teeth.
He gives me a wicked smile and releases me. I sink back onto the bed—my legs still Jell-O—and lay back, pressing my palms to my eyes. “Jesus, do I have some sort of sign above my head that says ‘Fuck with me’? Because it sure as hell feels like it.”
I feel the bed sink next to me under Ezra’s weight. I know I should be trying to escape, but I honestly don’t know where I would go if I did. “Where are we?” I ask my voice muffled under my hands.
“South Carolina,” Ezra responds casually. I giggle because he says it more like “Caroliner.” Then I freak out.
“South Carolina?” I shriek, jumping up from the bed. My legs wobble a bit, but I can finally stand. The questions I should have already asked bubble up and flow out of me in a rush. “What did you do to me? Why did you take me? What are you going to do?” I start for the door, expecting Ezra to try and stop me, but he doesn’t. Curiosity beats out panic and I pause in the doorway to look back at him.
Ezra is lying on the bed with his hands folded behind his head as if he’s the most relaxed he’s ever been. I take a half step backward into another dimly lit room, my eyes still trained on him, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“What? You’re not going to try and stop me?” I ask incredulously. His lack of concern is making me nervous.
After a beat, he speaks. “No, you’re free to leave if you want.” I watch as he sits up and looks over his shoulder at me. “I didn’t kidnap you and you’re not my prisoner.” His mouth turns up at the corner and his eyes sparkle with amusement.
“Then, why did you take me?” I demand. “Oh, and hey, why the hell did you kiss me?”
Ezra’s mouth splits into a full on smile. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.” He sits up and scratches the back of his neck and tries to look contrite, despite his smile. I bite my lip to hide a smile of my own. What the hell is wrong with me?
I narrow my eyes at him. “Yeah, well, I didn’t. It was weird and confusing. Why did you do it?”
Ezra pats the bed beside him, indicating for me to sit down. I hesitate only momentarily before complying. There is something so disarming about him right now; he seems more at ease and less shifty than he did back in Price. I eye him warily, making sure to keep some space between us.
Ezra sighs and takes my hand in his, sending a dark, primal surge of energy straight through me. “Because I wanted to? And because you looked like you needed comforting.” Ezra gives me a crooked grin and squeezes my hand. I yank it out of his grip immediately.
“At least you’re being honest,” I sigh. “That’s not something I’m used to. Still, it was wrong of you to touch me like that.”
“I know, and I am deeply sorry for taking advantage like that. It won’t happen again.” I pry my gaze from the polished wooden floor and meet Ezra’s eyes. He looks sincerely sorry and I relax a little, despite my better judgment.
“Can I try something?” I ask hesitantly.
Ezra’s eyes light up with humor. “Of course,” he answers with a smile.
Gingerly, I place my hand on Ezra’s bare forearm; his sharp intake of breath is his only response. Slowly, the dark feeling swells from him to me. It’s indescribable, the way it feels, the way the darkness unfurls and fills me until I feel solid and whole.
“What is that?” I gasp. “What are you doing to me?”
Ezra shakes his head slowly. “I’m not doing anything,” he answers, his voice low and thoughtful.
I tear my hand away like it burns. “Don’t lie to me. I know you can do things, mess with people’s minds, like you did with my aunt. What are you doing to me when you touch me?” I’m aiming for harsh and demanding, but I just sound desperate.
Ezra strokes his chin, looking bemused. “Can you describe for me what it is you think I’m doing?” he asks, sounding like he’s indulging the fantasy of a child or a mentally ill person.
“Fine,” I hiss through clenched teeth. I stand up and head back to the door. “You know,” I say, stopping and looking over my shoulder at Ezra who continues to look thoroughly amused, “for a second I actually thought you might not be the creepy psycho-kidnapper that I thought you were, but I guess I was wrong.”
I take a step toward the door, but am suddenly blocked by the sheepish-looking form of Ezra. His shoulders slump under my accusing glare. “Evan, I didn’t kidnap you; not the way you’re thinking. And I’m not ‘messing’ with you. I can assure you that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I grit my teeth in frustration. Everything that’s logical and rational tells me I shouldn’t believe him, but I do. This whole thing is so messed up. The look on my face must say exactly that, because Ezra’s expression softens with sympathy.
“Just, come back in and sit down. I’ll get you something to eat. You must be starved.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Kind of. Since I’ve been knocked out for, what, days? Thanks to you.”
Ezra goes from concerned to amused in a flash. The cheeky glint in his eyes and the sudden appearance of a dimple at the left corner of his mouth causes my breath to catch. I shake my head to clear away the disturbing thoughts trying to worm their way into my mind.
“You’re right. I’ll explain everything to you; just sit down and collect yourself,” he says, taking my shoulder and gently urging me back into the room.
I slip out from under his grasp and turn to head back to the bed. “Fine. But I need to take a shower. And change these clothes. Seriously, I stink. And don’t tell me to ‘collect myself.’ The last time I checked, we aren’t living in a Jane Austen novel.”
I flop down on the bed and my body immediately thanks me. Maybe I am sore after all. “You better have a really good explanation for what...” I stop mid-sentence when I look back to the doorway and see that Ezra is gone. “Right,” I mutter to myself.
Even though it feels good just to sit here, I’m suddenly restless, my body all too aware of how sentient I’ve been. I stand up and wander over to the window. It’s slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to filter into the room. Outside, the sun is shining over a pristine white beach dotted with tourists who mill about unhurried in various states of undress. Beyond the beach is an endless stretch of blue water that bleeds seamlessly into a clear azure sky.
It’s a relaxing scene, but it does little to soothe my budding anxiety. Now that I’m alone and fully conscious, the gravity of what happened back in Price is beginning to set in; that, and the fact that I’ve apparently been kidnapped. Not that I couldn’t just...
I close my eyes and feel the familiar buzz of power crackle against and under my skin. I know that if I turn around and take a step I’ll be back in Price. That would be the responsible thing to do, head back and face the disaster that’s waiting for me. But, Ezra did say he would explain maybe I should hear him out? If I go back to Price right away, I’ll be going back to locked doors and dead ends; to a guy that I supposedly love who can’t bother to tell me the truth about anything. So, I’ll stay, just a little bit longer. Then I’m out of here.
I feel Ezra’s presence before I hear him. “I hope you like stale bagels, because that’s all they had left over from breakfast,” he says as he pushes through the door. I glance over my shoulder to see him standing frozen just in the threshold, a Styrofoam plate holding a couple of dry looking bagels and a few packets of cream cheese clutched in his right hand.
“Something wrong?” I ask, noting the way he’s standing perfectly framed in the shimmering arch.
Ignoring my question, Ezra leans forward and squints. “What is that?”
In an instant, the arch disappears. “What’s what?” I figure, if we keep answering questions with questions we can avoid this conversation altogether, because I have no idea how he could see that when no one else has.
Ezra frowns after a moment then his mouth folds itself into its usual smirk. “Must have been a trick of the light.” The calculating glint in his eyes says I’m not fooling him, but he lets it slide.
I try not to look too relieved as I sit back down on the bed. Ezra sets the plate beside me and proceeds to look amazingly hot with his left ankle crossed over his knee and his white linen shirt straining deliciously over the muscles in his biceps. What is wrong with me? When we were in Price his looks were easy to ignore, especially with Lex around to distract me. Now, alone in this sparse and tiny room, there is no denying how beautiful this man really is. Focus, Evan. This guy friggin kidnapped you.
“So, you said you would explain. Explain.” I stand up, cross my arms over my chest, and attempt to stare Ezra down. He may have almost a foot on me, but I’m packing some serious heat and he doesn’t know that. Sure, I haven’t exactly figured out how to use my abilities as a “weapon,” but I’m sure I could improvise if I’m put to the test. I’m thinking, electrocution.
To his credit, Ezra has the decency to look mildly impressed. “I will,” he says softly. “Please eat.” Ezra gestures to the plate of bagels that look seconds away from growing mold. I wrinkle my nose and he smiles. “Come on, Evan. I feel bad enough as it is. I don’t need to have you starving, too.”
“You feel bad,” I say incredulously.
“Of course I do. Despite appearances, I’m not exactly a criminal. I had a job to do, so I did it. Nothing more. I regretted it immediately as soon as it was done.” He leans back and rests on his elbows. I notice that the top of his shirt is unbuttoned revealing a patch of soft copper-colored hair.
“A job?” I ask, clearing my throat. Ezra raises his eyebrows and gestures toward the plate. Reluctantly, I sit down beside him and pick up the least offending piece of bread, bite off a chunk and chew. It’s somewhat rubbery, but it doesn’t taste nearly as bad as I was expecting it to. Ezra nods, a pleased look on his face, before continuing.
“Yes. I was sent to secure you and bring you back to your home.” He plucks at a loose thread in the duvet and doesn’t meet my eyes,
I snort a laugh and half choke on my bagel. “You do realize that I was at home. I mean, Price is where I live now. Before that, I lived in Connecticut. I know you’re a foreigner and all, but a quick glance at a map would have told you that South Carolina is a long ways off from Connecticut.”
Ezra smirks. “As it happens, I am very familiar with American geography. That being said, I am taking you to your true home.”
I open my mouth to make some sort of asinine retort, but I stop before saying anything. When it comes down to it, I don’t really know anything about who I am or who my family really is. The weight of emotion that I’ve been struggling to repress comes crashing down on me and I suddenly feel very weak and vulnerable. Tears pool in my eyes and begin to fall down my cheeks with shameless abandon. Ezra’s green eyes widen in horror.
“Please, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Exra pushes the plate out of the way and slides closer to me, awkwardly patting me on the back. When his hand lingers for a second too long, I’m slow to react. There’s something about his touch that fills me, that seeps into all of my emptiest places. I manage to shake the feeling.
“Can you please not touch me?” I say quietly. My voice lacks the conviction I wish it had, and I can tell Ezra senses that, too.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his hand away and placing it on his knee. “It’s sort of like a compulsion.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What? Touching people?”
“No,” he answers with a small smile, “comforting you. I can’t seem to tolerate seeing you in distress.”
I shake my head, unable to comprehend what he’s saying. “If that’s the case, then why the hell were you being so creepy back in Price? Because that was pretty damn distressing.”
“Was I?” He smirks, giving nothing away.
I wipe the tears from my face, thankful that my nose isn’t running. “Whatever,” I say flatly. “Tell me why you brought me here. I can, and will hurt you if you keep fucking with me.”
I glance sideways at Ezra expecting him to look angry or amused, but he just looks sad. “I believe you, what with those amazing elemental abilities you have,” he says quietly, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
I drop the stiff bagel back on its plate and fold my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes at Ezra. “What are you talking about?”
Ezra presses his lips together to hold back his laugh, his eyes clouded with thought. “I had my suspicions before, but you definitely confirmed them last night. Within an hour of us being here every electrical socket and light bulb in this room was fried. I suppose it didn’t happen on the plane because I had you in a deep state of unconsciousness. Once we got to the hotel, I lifted my hold so that you could wake up naturally. As soon as I did that, it was like fireworks in here.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask again blankly. I clench my fists in my lap feeling exposed and slightly humiliated.
Ezra rolls his eyes. “They really haven’t told you anything. What are they playing at?” he asks more to himself than me. I slap his arm to get him to focus.
“Start talking, pretty boy, or I will not hesitate to drop you in a hole in Siberia.” Instead of being terrified like I intended, Ezra laughs.
“You should learn to be patient.” He leans back on his elbows again. The clouds shift in the sky outside the window and the room is cast in shadows. I ignore Ezra’s comment and stand up and head to the door where the light switch is. I flick it up and down but nothing happens.
“I told you,” Ezra says softly, his breath warm on my neck where he now stands behind me, “fried.” I didn’t even hear him move.
“Why?” I ask, turning. I breathe in sharply when I come face to face with Ezra. We’re standing so close I can see the delicate blue veins beneath his too pale skin. I don’t remember him being this pale since the first time I saw him.
When he speaks, his breath is soft and sweet on my face. “One of the main telltale signs of a fledgling Elemental is the inability to control new powers during sleep. Since you fried the sockets and the bulbs, I’m assuming you have the power to summon and control electricity. You’re among a very small and elite group of Elementals. I’d expect no less from someone so captivating.” Ezra smirks and begins to back away. Without thinking, I reach out and grab his wrist to stop him.
“There are others, like me? That can control them all?” I don’t even care how vulnerable and desperate I sound, because I feel vulnerable and desperate. Never once have I ever felt the need to belong, not until now when the hope that I’m not alone is so strong and tantalizing.
Ezra tilts his head to the side and regards me with a curious expression. “What do you mean, ‘them all’?” He takes a step closer and takes my free wrist with his free hand. “Evan,” he persists, “what do mean?”
I swallow hard and ignore the intensity of feeling that pulses through our unbroken connection. “I didn’t mean anything. Forget it.” I drop his wrist and press myself against the closed door, trying to put distance between us, but Ezra follows with a step of his own.
“I see you there, under that mask,” he says, reaching up and placing his fingertips on the side of my face. “You can’t hide from me.”
I take in a shaky breath and laugh. “You’re being creepy again.”
Ezra nods slightly, that sad look back on his face. “The bathroom is just outside, off the living area.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Living area?”
“It’s a suite.” Ezra drops my wrist and reaches around me to turn the knob and pulls the door open, forcing me to step closer to him. Without taking my eyes off him, I slide around the open door and into an equally pristine white living room.
“There?” I ask, pointing toward a door next to the one I just left. Ezra nods once and strolls by me without a glance.
“Get washed up. I’ll go get you something better to eat and something clean to wear.”
“Ezra?” I watch as he pauses in the doorway to the hall, the muscles in the back of his neck tense. “Nevermind,” is all I can think to say.
Without responding, he steps into the hall and shuts the door behind him leaving me alone. I press my lips together to suppress a sigh. My emotions are all over the place when it comes to Ezra.
How far am I willing to go to get the answers I want? And why do I get the feeling that there is something way bigger going on than anything that I could imagine? For the simple reason that there’s nothing else I can do right now, I turn and head to the bathroom.

Excerpt #2:

“Ezra, are we dead?” A blush breaks out across my face and chest. I can’t help but ask, though, because it’s something that’s been on my mind since the word “vampire” wedged its way into my everyday vocabulary.
Ezra drops his hands from my back and takes my hand in his. He guides it up and places my palm flat on his chest. “Do I feel dead?” His heart beats warm and steady against my hand.
“No,” I whisper. I drop my hand and turn slowly so that my back is facing him and pull my hair over my shoulder. “Unzip me?”
“Evan, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ezra says, his voice strained.
I look back at him over my shoulder. “I want you to see me, to touch me.” My blush deepens. “Don’t make me beg.” I look away quickly, embarrassed by the raw need in my voice.
Ezra doesn’t hesitate any further; he reaches up and slowly unzips my dress. When I turn back to face him, Ezra captures my mouth in a painstaking kiss. I feel it in every cell of my body, the rightness of it. I slip my arms around his neck and wind my fingers through his hair. He groans against my mouth, sending my pulse soaring. In my lust-filled haze, I feel him take my hips and guide me so that I’m walking backward in the direction of his bed. As the back of my knees hit the bed frame, Ezra lifts me by the waist and tosses me lightly onto the bed. I barely have time to laugh before I feel the whole of his weight on me. The room quiets to the sound of our breath. “Ezra, I want this. But I have to know, do you?”
“Yes, absolutely.” He shifts his weight, parting my legs with his knees. I wrap them willingly around his waist.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Ezra. I can’t....I can’t be in any sort of relationship right now. I remember what you said, in the field...” Ezra stops me with a kiss. It’s brief and sweet and for a second I forget how much trouble I’m in.
“If you’re done trying to save me from myself,” he whispers against my mouth, “then I’d really like to finish taking this dress off.”

Evan Evolved is the second volume in the Evan Elemental Series Evan Elemental (The Evan Elemental Series)

About The Author:

Crystal Groszek is the author the Evan Elemental series. Crystal began thinking about and plotting Evan Elemental while attending Utica College where she earned her bachelor's degree in English Literature. She currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, Patrick, and her lovably insane puppy, Lenni. You can find more information about Crystal and the Evan Elemental series by visiting her at or You can also reach Crystal on twitter at and on Facebook at

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Evan Evolved (Evan Elemental Book 2) by Crystal Groszek

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