Friday, February 28, 2014

Number Thirteen by Bella Jewel: Cover Reveal

Title: Number Thirteen
Author: Bella Jewel
Expected Release Date: March 17, 2014
Genre: Dark Romance
**AUTHOR NOTE - This is NOT a BDSM Romance**



Synopsis
We're thirteen girls, captive, slave to our master. 
A master we've never seen.
Obedience will become all we know in our shallow existence. It is the only emotion we're permitted to feel.
When we're bad, we're punished. When we're good, we're rewarded. 
Our scars run deep. Yet we survive, because we have to... 
because HE teaches us to.
All of us are special, we feel it with everything we are.
He has us for a reason, but it's a reason we don't know.
We've never seen his face, but we know that something deeply broken lies beneath the darkness. With every touch, with every punishment, we know it. 
Then something changed. 
He showed me who he truly is.
Now I want him.
I'll go against everything I know to be with him. 
A monster. 
My monster. 
Loving him is a sin, but a sinner I am. I won't stop until I see every part of him. Even the parts he keeps locked deep down inside. 
I am Number Thirteen, and this is my story. 
No one said it was pretty, or right, but it's mine.




PROLOGUE
My boots crunch in the yellow autumn leaves as I walk towards the schoolyard. I didn’t want to come today, but Momma told me I had no choice. She said school is for smart kids, and if I don’t go, then how am I ever going to get smart? I could get smart, the man on the television tells me everything I need to know. But she claims that I can’t make friends with the man on the television, that the only way to make friends is to go to school. I could have told her that I don’t need friends to be successful, but she’d only tell me I’m being silly.
So I came to school.
I didn’t tell her that there are bullies here, or that every day they push me around and shove me into lockers. That would make me sound weak, and now that my dad is working, and my brother is away because he didn’t like the school here, I’ve had to become the man of the house. There’s no room for weakness.
Momma tells me bullies pick on the kids who are victims. I think she’s wrong. I’m not a victim; I’m just a kid. They pick on me because I’m different. I don’t look at the girls like they do; I don’t try to sneak out to parties. I’m only thirteen. I’m just there to learn, then I go home and I take care of my family, because, I’m the man of the house.
Like I said.
The shrill sound of the school bell ringing, tells me I’m late. I pick up into a jog, rounding the corner and into the schoolyard. It’s a cool winter day, and I have to pinch my coat together to stop it from flapping in the icy breeze. I can see the students piling in the front doors, and I turn my jog into a run. I’m focusing so heavily on the doors, that I don’t see them. A strong hand lashes out, catching hold of my sleeve and tugging me into the alleyway that runs down beside my school.
I always knew this alley was dangerous.
My body is slammed against a hard wooden fence, and I set eyes on my bullies. Four of them. They’re all bigger than me, all of them on the football team. They’re from a few grades up, and they’ve just turned sixteen. The leader of the group, Marcel, steps forward first. He scrunches his nose in disgust, as if I’ve just dragged myself out of a gutter, as if I’m offending him. He leans in close, and I can smell cigarettes on his breath.
Smoking is not cool.
“You’ve been trying to avoid me, Will. Did you really think you could hide at home with Mommy, and never have to come out again?”
I stare at him, wondering why he chose me to pick on. I didn’t even know his name until he flagged me down and shoved my head down a toilet six months ago. I was just a kid, keeping my head down, studying and learning like I should. Now here I am, pressed against a fence, wondering why they decided I was good enough to take extra special effort to attack. I don’t bother answering him; it’ll only make him worse. My answers won’t make a difference. If I answer, I’m wrong. If I don’t answer, I’m wrong.
“Are you fucking mute, you little cunt?”
My body jerks. I hate that word, it’s so…vulgar. I let my eyes move to the four other guys standing like protective pack animals around Marcel. I don’t know their names; they’re not significant enough. The tall boy with orange hair looks nervous, like he knows what’s about to happen could put him in a world of trouble - but he’s still here, still making the choice to stay. The other two guys are stony faced, and fully aware of their part in this attack.
I still don’t answer him. If I just let them beat me, it’ll go away quicker.
“You’re a freak, Will, do you know that?” Marcel hisses, leaning in closer.
Of course I know that. I wouldn’t be pinned against a fence if I didn’t know that.
Bullies are so dumb.
Marcel raises his fist, and brings it down over my face, cracking my nose so hard blood spurts onto his shirt. I don’t cry out, because that’s what he wants, but the pain radiating through my head is nearly enough to make me beg. Nearly. Marcel takes hold of my shirt, and his grey eyes scan my face. He’s panting, as though I’ve shoved him into an alley and challenged him. Like this is my fault. The world is twisted like that, and it’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.
“You know,” he growls, locking eyes with me. “I heard my girl saying how handsome you were the other day. Do you know how much it sucks to have my girl saying that a freak is handsome? Especially a freak that’s only what? Thirteen years old? Your dick would be no bigger than a tube of damned lipstick, yet she thinks you’re handsome!”
I wouldn’t know how much it sucks to have a girl say that, because I don’t have a girl.
Again, bullies are dumb.
“Don’t answer me, you little twerp. It doesn’t matter. I will make sure by the time you leave this alley; you’re not handsome anymore. I won’t have my competition being some little weasel that can’t even speak.”
I taste blood filling my mouth, and my nose is pounding so heavily I’m almost sure I can hear my own heart in my head. I don’t take my eyes from Marcel. They say look danger right in the eye; it gives you power and strength. I don’t feel powerful right now, in fact, I don’t really feel anything. Someone like me doesn’t fight, I’m the underdog, and underdogs are weak. Everyone knows it.
Marcel reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a pocket knife. The heart that feels like it’s in my head begins thumping even harder. I try not to show fear, I try to stand tall and take what he dishes out with strength, but that’s not so easy when your attacker is waving around a pocket knife.
“She said it was your eyes,” he begins, lazily tracing circles on his palm with the blade. “She said they’re the most stunning eyes she’s ever seen. Like the ocean.”
I didn’t know my eyes were like the ocean.
He takes hold of my shirt, yanking me close. “No one is more appealing to my girl, than me.”
They say bad things happen in slow motion, they’re right. I feel Marcel throw me down onto the floor. I feel every movement as my body slammed into the dirt. I feel his body weight coming over me, his knees pinning me down as I squirm. I feel his friend take my arms, pulling them above my head, while another puts a hand over my mouth. With my nose pouring with blood, that makes it difficult to breathe.
I feel the knife ripping into my skin as I thrash my head from side to side, and I can feel the blood pouring down the sides of my face. Each time he attempts to stab me, I move and the knife only slices through the skin around my eye. My pained wails fill the alley, but no one comes to help me. No one is around in the one moment of my life that I need them.
I know what I’ll remember most about that day, and that is the moment he finally manages to drive the knife into my eye.
I don’t feel pain, not right away. Instead I hear the popping sound, as his blade pierces right through. Then I feel pressure as he twists. It’s only when he yanks it out of its socket, that I start to scream. Then the pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Words cannot begin to explain the horror I feel as darkness begins to invade my body. I know my face is covered in blood, because it drips down to soak my hair. I know I bite his friends hand so hard I nearly take off his finger.
I don’t know what they’re saying, or even acknowledge the moment when they run away. All I know was that I am bleeding to death in an alley, missing an eye. Red fills my vision as the blood begins to cover every part of my face. I know I’m still screaming, even though I can’t hear it. All I can hear is an excessive ringing in my ears. I can’t even move my hands to cover my eye, in an attempt to protect the empty socket. I can do nothing but lay and scream, witnessing a pain that I’ll never witness again in my life, and wondering what I did to deserve it.
No one deserves to die.
But I do die that day.
And in my place, a monster is born.

About the Author


Bella Jewel is an Aussie girl through and through. She spent her life in Western Australia, growing up in many different areas of the state. She now currently lives in Perth with her husband, children and mass amounts of pets. She's crazy, fun, outgoing and friendly. Writing is her passion, she started at the young age of 18 but finally got the courage up to publish, and her first novel Hell's Knights was released in August 2013.

Author Social Media Links

Spark (Spark Series #1) by Jennifer Ryder: Release Day Event and giveaway


Title: Spark (Spark Series #1)

Author: Jennifer Ryder

Release Date: February 28, 2014





Synopsis

Not many people know that I, Eevie Lawson, have a problem. An addiction to 

romance novels. I eat them for breakfast. I hide it the best I can, but I need them to 

breathe. It’s how I cope.

I’ve had a swag of book boyfriends, but now that I’m free from the responsibility of 

caring for my three younger brothers, it’s time to find one in the flesh. 

In real life, no girl meets their hero on page one, or even at the end of chapter one. I 

should know. 

My journey is real. It’s not perfect, and it sure as hell isn’t easy—but the fight for

something worthwhile never is.




Buy the Book





About the Author



New Adult and erotic romance writer. My debut novel ‘Spark’, part of a four part 

romantic suspense series will be released on 28 February 2014! 

A sexy imagination, a life-long love of books and a sucker for romance, Jennifer 

Ryder couldn’t stifle her creativity any longer.

Writing steamy adult romance has become her new focus. Living on a rural property 

in New South Wales, Australia, she enjoys the best of city and country.

Her loving husband is ever willing to provide inspiration, and her two young 

cherubs, and sheep that don’t see fences as barriers, keep life more than interesting.

Jennifer placed third in the International Stringybark Erotic Short Fiction Award 2013.


Connect with Jennifer






Thursday, February 27, 2014

Hero by Leighton Del Mia: Release Event and Giveaway


Title: Hero

Author: Leighton Del Mia

Release Date: February 27, 2014

Genre: Dark Erotic Romance Standalone




They call me Hero.

I defend.



Synopsis

Calvin Parish

I protect.

me good.

I ask for nothing in return, and that makes 

Doesn’t it?

That which makes me the ultimate predator also feeds dark impulses I’ve learned to 

control—until I bring her too close. For years I’ve watched her from afar, but what 

started out as duty has become obsession.

I work hard.

I play by the rules.

Cataline Ford

I’m content.

that keeps me hidden.

My scars are quiet and invisible, and 

Doesn’t it?

One fateful walk home, I’m taken by someone I didn’t know I should fear. Captive 

and afraid, nobody will tell me why I’m confined to this hauntingly beautiful 

mansion. I’m given everything; I have nothing. He takes what he needs from me, and 

for that I hate him. But I might have loved him once.

And just because you’re reading this doesn’t mean I survive him.




Buy the Book

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1bMquOu
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/1gCIh88



Excerpt
He’s swimming toward me, closing in, and I retreat until my shoulder blades hit the 

lip of the pool.

“Your fate is in my hands,” he says.

“I accept that,” I say. His surprised expression is so rare that I almost lose my train 

of thought. “What I can’t accept is not knowing my fate. If you’ll just tell me if I’ll 

live or die, tell me what I’m doing here, what my purpose is, and if it’s . . . forever, I 

promise—I will be better.”

“You ask for a lot.” He steps within inches of me so our faces almost touch.

“Tell me that, and I won’t ask for anything else.”

He raises his hand to run his thumb over my cheekbone. The room is silent save for 

the acute splash echo of pool water. His fingers slide down my face and under my 

hair, where they wrap around the nape my neck. “You look sexy when you’re wet, 

Cataline.”

My eyelids threaten to close, but I force myself to hold his gaze.

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “You’d make a beautiful mermaid,” he whispers. 

“But, then, how would I fuck you?”



About the Author


Leighton Del Mia lives behind large sunglasses and under massive headphones. She 

can usually be found behind and under these things at any Starbucks on the West 

Coast, which is where she writes twisty books between sips of black coffee.

Facebook

Goodreads

Twitter

Website






Keep Me (A Hero Novella)


“I will disappoint you. I will hurt you. If I could be different, I would. But I don’t 

think I can.”

Declarations and sacrifices have been made. After three years, a better life is 

finally on the horizon. But when the past leaves marks that are both painful and 

permanent, is there ever such a thing as starting over? Can memories be replaced or 

forgotten—and should they be?

Keep Me is a follow-up novella for Hero readers who want a glimpse of life after 

breakfast. It is only intended to be enjoyed after Hero and is not a standalone. It is 

entirely optional and not essential to the original plot.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

High-Stakes Loving (King's Bluff, Wyoming #2): Release Event and Giveaway


Title: High-Stakes Loving (King's Bluff, Wyoming #2)

Author: Fiona Archer

Genre: Erotica / BDSM

Publisher: Siren Publishing




Synopsis

Former SEALs Quinn and Mike have discovered in King's Bluff, Wyoming, a town 

that embraces ménage and BDSM lifestyles. Even better, they found a sweet woman 

they could love--if they could only gain the shy librarian's trust. Overhearing that 

she adores capture fantasy books, the two Doms know exactly how to get her 

attention.

Trapped between two experienced Masters, Reagan surrenders. They're 

commanding, determined, yet gentle, and everything she ever wanted. Even as she 

learns what it is to be cherished, a secret from the past emerges, threatening her 

reputation. She hires her lovers to investigate, expecting them to be on her side. But 

the damning evidence they uncover rocks their relationship.

As pressure for the truth mounts, danger stalks Reagan. Someone out there believes 

secrets are best left buried.

Long-held misconceptions and fears stand in their way, risking their futures and 

allowing the threat closer. The three must fight as one for their love to survive.

Excerpt

Mike pushed the door closed with the kind of unhurried movement that reeked 

of confidence. He leaned back against the wood, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Quinn stepped forward, hat in one hand and a black gym bag in the other.

She frowned and glanced up at his face.

“A SEAL always keeps a bag handy. Mike and I have everything we need in here.” He 

dropped the bag at his feet, followed by his hat.

“Everything?” She guessed he meant more than a clean shirt and deodorant.

“For tonight anyway.” Quinn stalked forward, his body now so close she had to lift 

her chin high to meet his gaze. “Reality-check time. I’ll ask you again. Do you want 

this, Reagan? Because we’re not some pansy-ass Ken doll version of Doms.” He 

caught her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding them there with one 

hand.

Her pussy throbbed. She tested his hold, wanting, no, needing to struggle. He 

tightened his grip. Firm. Inescapable.

Quinn used his grip to push her up against him. “You’re caught, sweetness. And 

that’s just a preview of things to come. We’re gonna order you about, tie you up, eat 

your pussy till you’re begging us to let you come, say no because that’s the kind of 

bastards we are, then we’re gonna eat you up all over again.” He lifted his free hand 

and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I want to discover all the ways you light up 

when we bury our cocks inside that warm heaven between your legs. You’ll come 

when we say so and not before. Defy us and you’ll be punished. Still interested?”

Dominated. Tied. Theirs.

Her mouth opened but her voice refused to cooperate.

Mike pushed off the door. “We need the words, Reagan.”

“Y-yes.”

Quinn lessened his hold until her hands fell away to her sides. Somehow, the action 

left her…bereft.

“Strip,” Mike ordered.

“Here, in the hallway?” They had to be kidding.

Mike’s mouth pressed down in a harsh line. But it was his cold stare washing over 

her like an icy bath that made her gulp.

She hurried to remove her shirt and tank top. Her fingers struggled to get a grip, as if 

covered in woolen mittens. Why did the guys have to stand so close?

Dragging the tank top over her head, the easy-fit cotton now impersonated skin-
tight spandex, hooking on her elbows until with one hard pull, she managed to lurch 

free. Sexy, Reagan. With her gaze lowered, she dropped the clothing at her feet.

Thank God for front-closing bras. Her breasts spilled out. Don’t think about all that 

pale skin. Just hurry. They’re waiting. The white cotton joined the rest of her clothing. 

After toeing off her sneakers, she pulled her panties down with her jeans.

The cool air wafted over her bare skin. She shivered. There she was, naked in 

front of Mike and Quinn. And yet, every part of her was alive with a slow burn that 

kindled from deep between her legs. She moved her gaze from Quinn’s boots to her 

chest. The hard points of her nipples stood like beacons, screaming her arousal.

Oh, heck, her breasts. She raised her arms.

“Hands by your sides, sugar.” Quinn’s deep voice cut in.

Lowering her hands was like refusing to swim even as the water closed over her 

head. Her fingers twitched. A tightness filled her belly. Standing there, like a horse 

on display, seemed so wrong. Shouldn’t she argue back?

“We’re going to push you, Reagan. Well beyond what you’re used to from a partner. 

In or out of bed.” Mike tilted his head. “Have you been with a Dom before?”

“No.” Only in her dreams. This reality was so much more.

Mike walked behind her.

She forced herself not to swivel around. Look ahead. Chin up.

A line of knuckles brushed against her butt cheek.

She started. Her breasts jiggled.

Mike’s chuckle singed her ears. “Easy, sub.”

She dragged her gaze up to Quinn’s face. The heat of his stare made her stomach 

muscles quiver, as if he’d twirled a feather over her belly button.

“Ever been tied up?” Mike’s hand curved over her hip.

“No.” Her face heated. It seemed so foreign and carnal, talking about bondage in such 

a matter-of-fact way.

“Spanked?”

“N-no.” She coughed past the shag pile carpet coating her throat. “I haven’t done 

anything, besides, you know, normal stuff.” Two lovers at college and an ex-
boyfriend in Sheridan. All missionary men, and she wasn’t talking bibles.

This time Quinn chuckled. “We’re gonna open up a whole new world for you, 

sweetheart.” 



Buy the Book

High-Stakes Loving (King's Bluff, Wyoming #2)






Chloe's Double Draw (King's Bluff, Wyoming #1)






B&N 


About the Author



I live in the sunny environs of Sydney, Australia, and share a house with my dog, 

Letty. Oh, and the flock of cockatoos that take over the back yard each afternoon, 

demanding their feed of Arnott's Milk Arrowroot Biscuits. Things get a little noisy 

around 3.00pm in our household.

My love of romance started back when I was twelve and my mum's stash of Mills 

and Boon novels proved too much of a temptation. At fifteen, I decided the life of 

a romance writer was for me. Some...ah...years later, I've clawed together enough 

gumption to make my dream a reality.

When not sitting in front of the computer, I can be found in the garden or enthralled 

watching a murder mystery DVD. I limit myself to reading other authors' work 

between writing my own stories. Books are my 'shiny' distractions.









FIRST PRIZE

Signed paperback of Chloe's Double Draw

Charm and glass bead High-Stakes Loving key chain

Signed bookmark

RUNNERS UP

2 x $5 Amazon Gift Cards


Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Love, Your Concierge by Jessica Ingro: Release Event and Giveaway

Title: Love, Your Concierge

Author: Jessica Ingro

Release Date: February 25, 2014







Synopsis

Organization – that’s what I do. Control – it’s my middle name. 

Hello. I’m Elizabeth – your personal concierge. My job is to play fairy godmother to the rich and famous. 

The universal rulebook may say to never mix business with pleasure, but its author never worked for 

Grant Morgan, my sexy and brooding client. As a top attorney in Manhattan, Grant is used to calling 

the shots and dominating everything he touches. He also changes girlfriends as often as I pick up his 

dry cleaning. A part of me still wishes I could let him command my body and take me in ways I’ve never 

imagined, though.

One moment of weakness is all it takes to change everything forever.

Addicted – I can’t get enough of him. Consumed – He’s all I think and dream about.

The book has officially been thrown out the window. I’m in love and completely terrified. With lines 

blurred, I find myself lying, cheating and stealing to protect myself from being hurt. But my choices 

affect more than just me and now I’m not so sure what I’m trying to protect myself from. 

Will love be enough to erase all I’ve done? Or have I made the biggest mistake of all?




Excerpt

I walked slowly down the hall wanting to prolong the inevitable. Maybe Grant was angry because he had 

to wait for his file. That could be the only real reason. It couldn’t have anything to do with me. The man 

didn’t even know me and with any luck, he wouldn’t recognize me from the club either. The chances 

were slim that he’d realize it was me, so I wasn’t sure why I was even that concerned. It was silly really. I 

was nobody in the life and times of Grant Morgan.

When I reached the partially open door, I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath before knocking 

on the door.

“Come in,” was barked out in a deep, rich voice that coated my skin like the finest silk.

I pushed the door open further and timidly stepped into the room. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, 

and I felt my body sweating in places that were very unladylike. 

The room was bright. The wall opposite the door was made up of large windows with dark, wood 

shelving below it. Different items and pictures graced the shelves along with a scattering of books. On 

the farthest wall was a wet bar and a doorway to what appeared to be a bathroom. On the opposite 

wall there was a large, masculine wood desk. His office screamed “man”. There was no denying this was 

his space. I itched to take in all the personal things in this room, to find out more about the man who 

occupied it. There was more character here than there was in his whole condo.

Grant was standing behind the desk in a three-piece suit, minus the jacket. A quick glance showed me it 

was draped over one of the chairs in front of the desk. His hair was perfectly coiffed, showcasing a slight 

wave and begging for your fingers to run through it. His crisp, light blue dress shirt was accentuated by 

a navy blue vest and dress slacks. His blue and gold striped tie matched perfectly to the gold buttons on 

his vest. The suit was clearly tailored and fit him like a glove. 

He was utterly fuckable. There was no other way to describe him. Unless you were within a ten foot 

radius of the man himself, you would never truly know what that statement meant. It had to have been 

created just to describe him.

“Ms. Ward. It took you long enough to get here. I presume you have the file I need.”

Breaking myself out of my stupor, I rushed to his desk as he rounded it. As I handed the folder to him, 

our fingers brushed. Instinctively, I tried to pull away from the charge I got from his touch, but his hand 

engulfed mine, and I found my body swaying closer to him. The folder dropped between us, and papers 

flew everywhere. I vaguely registered that though, because my breathing was fast and my heart was 

racing as I looked up into his face. Being in the position to touch Grant Morgan could very well make a 

nun question her celibacy. His scent was utterly masculine. His cologne was both citrusy and woodsy, 

and I found myself wanting to sniff him.

I could see something working behind his eyes, but I wasn’t sure what it was. It was a penetrating look, 

and it scared the crap out of me, so I decided I probably didn’t want to know what it meant.

My face flushed with embarrassment at the situation, and I ducked my head, hoping to hide my riotous 

emotions. I had no way to explain why he made me feel the way he did. I didn’t even recognize myself 

when I was around him.

Without any warning, Grant set me away from him and bent down to pick up the fallen papers. I 

dropped to my hands and knees and started scrambling to help, completely flustered that I was so 

clumsy.

“I am so, so sorry, Mr. Morgan,” I mumbled as I moved quickly on the floor.

Grant cleared his throat, and I looked over my shoulder to see him now standing and clearly staring at 

my behind. His eyes were heated and his voice was rough when he said, “Please get up off the floor, Ms. 

Ward.”

I jumped up as quickly as I could and smoothed my hands down my pants. “Yes of course. I’m truly 

sorry.”

It was as if I was a child being scolded by a parent or a teacher.

Grant rubbed his thumb slowly back and forth over his bottom lip as he studied me, and I tried not to 

squirm. Something about him was just so intense, and to be honest, a little scary. He was an enigma to 

me… Hot, yet cold. Sexy as hell, yet completely intimidating. 

“So, we finally meet. I must say, you are more impressive face to face,” he surprised me by saying.

What the hell was that all about? Was he complimenting me? No, it had to have been a sarcastic jab at 

my less than stellar delivery of his case files.

“Tell me, Ms. Ward. Are you enjoying working for me so far? It’s been what now? A week? Two?”

“A week, Sir,” I croaked out of my parched throat. This just kept getting better and better.

Grant walked over to the wet bar and poured some water into a glass for me, before returning and 

handing the much needed liquid to me.

“Ah, yes. So, are you enjoying yourself?” He watched closely as I drank the cold water and licked the 

stray moisture from my lips.

I sat in one of the chairs across from his desk and set my glass on the desk in front of me. How the hell 

did I answer that? I’d barely done anything for him yet. It wasn’t like he was really challenging me like 

some of my clients. If anything, it was an easy transition taking him on. Ms. Litchfield gave pretty damn 

clear and concise instructions on what he needed done. And what did it matter if I enjoyed working for 

him? Shouldn’t I be concerned with whether or not he was pleased with my work so far?

“Yes, Sir. But the uh… better question would be… um… are you happy with me?” When I said that, his 

eyes flared and his gaze grew more acute.

“Oh yes. I’m very pleased with you so far. So tell me. Do you frequent the White Rabbit often?”

I just about fell out of my chair when he asked me that. He did recognize me and now I felt like a total 

ass. How could I have let myself act so loose and inappropriately?

“No, Sir. Not very often. I was visiting with some friends. Were you there the other night?” In an attempt 

to regain my composure, I chose to play dumb about seeing him there. Maybe he would think it was all 

a misunderstanding. He was far enough away where I could still pretend I didn’t recognize him. We were 

in a club, damn it. There were people all over the place, dancing in and out of my line of sight. It was a 

real possibility.

“Oh, I was there Ms. Ward. And you very well know it.” He sat in his chair behind the desk and leaned 

back, clearly amused that he backed me into a corner with no choice but to acknowledge my behavior.

“Hmmm… perhaps you do look familiar.”

I sat, shocked when he tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was beautiful. Damn.

“Yes, perhaps I do. So, Ms. Ward…”

“Elizabeth,” I interrupted him and prayed he was going to put me out of my misery and change the 

subject.

“Elizabeth,” he conceded. “I noticed you were friends with Valentina Leokov. Are you close with her?”

When he mentioned Nik’s wife, Tina, I was surprised. It was as if we were playing twenty questions, and 

I wasn’t enjoying it. What did he care if we were close? I needed to shut this down.

“I suppose we are. I’m not sure that has anything to do with—” I couldn’t finish my thought before he 

cut me off.

“I’m just trying to get to know you, Ms. Ward. Elizabeth.” He added my first name after my censured 

look.

“Whereas I appreciate you wanting to know more about me, that doesn’t really change our professional 

relationship. As I told Ms. Litchfield, I am prepared to take on any tasks you might need. Laundry, dry 

cleaning, running errands, planning events, and whatever else you see fit. Now, if you don’t mind, I have 

a full day and had to rearrange my schedule so that I could deliver your work to you.” 

I stood and extended my hand, the picture of professionalism. Grant took my hand and raised it to 

his mouth. His sensuous, full lips grazing the skin there and causing my whole body to break out in 

goosebumps. 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you, Elizabeth. I look forward to seeing you again. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Spinning from how quickly he dismissed me, I walked on numb legs down the hall and out to the 

elevator. That man was confusing as hell.

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Author Bio



Jessica is the author of the Love Square series. She grew up in Central New York, where she spends 

her days as a Security Analyst at an IT consulting company. In her free time, she enjoys reading books 

and developing ideas for her own stories. Writing is her secret passion that she's been fostering since 

elementary school, when she wrote her first book about a puppy. It has always been a dream of hers to 

be able to share her stories with the world.

Jessica currently lives in New York with her husband and three dogs.


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